#dean winchester x ofc

[ginabaker1666]

Wake Up Call

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Reader

Rating: Mature (this is just PWP)

Summary: Dean and the Reader find themselves with a moment alone in the Impala, and Reader makes sure they take advantage of it.

I wouldn’t admit it to anyone but, some nights I enjoyed curling up with Dean and sleeping in the Impala. When a motel was just too far of a drive, or he got that itch to do something spontaneous, the two of us would more often than not end up curled up together in the back seat. He’d wrap us both in an old blanket that he had stashed in the trunk; somewhere between the holy oil and witch killing bullets, we would manage a romantic moment alone.

There was one exception, however, and that was when Sam was with us. It was no longer romantic, the car just became a motel on wheels. Sam would stretch himself out in the back and we’d pass beers back and forth between us, share some mindless chatter, and then the sound of Sam snoring would eventually lull us both to a mediocre sleep. Dean and I would struggle to find a spot in the front where the steering wheel wasn’t pressing into his ribs, or the emergency brake handle wasn't poking into the small of my back.

This was one of those mornings. I stirred from sleep, and as my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized I was laying on the front seat, legs tucked up, head in Dean’s lap. Looking up, I took a moment to admire his sharp jaw and the slope of his nose as his breathing came in steady inhales and exhales. I always thought he was handsome, but when he was asleep and the weight of his troubles weren’t crushing him…he was even more so. It was then I realized he had slept sitting up, head back and neck bent. He would be howling about it for days.

Gently, I slid my hand over his thigh, my other hand bracing against the top of the seat as I took a careful peek into the back seat. I expected to find Sam, awkwardly bent with his flannel balled up behind his head, but was surprised to find that the back seat of the Impala was empty, save for Sam’s flannel from the night before and a half empty bottle of mouth wash. Grinning, I decided to steal a few moments of quiet with my favorite person, in our favorite place.

“Dean…”

“Hnfg… no.”

“Dean…” I tried again, letting my fingers dance over his stomach and up, under the hem of his black T-shirt.

Just as I moved in to press my lips against his, his hand came down over my wrist and stopped me from exploring his skin any further. One of his jade green eyes opened, looking at me wildly, as if to ask how I could be so mean and torture him while his brother was asleep not five feet away.

“Relax… it’s just us…” I grinned.

“Where’d he go?”

“Don’t know… don’t care at the moment… I’m alone with you.”

He gently released his grip on my wrist, and opened his other eye before grinning brightly.

“Then feel free to continue,” he husked, bringing a hand up to thread through my hair. “This is my favorite kind of wake up call.”

I just smiled as he used the hand in my hair to guide my lips back to his. When his lips finally pressed against mine, it felt as if I was floating, and the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth was Dean holding me against him.

“I know you want to take your time and enjoy this but…” I murmured against his lips, hands fumbling with his belt while his moved to hastily untuck my shirt and pop the button on my jeans.

“Baby, you know I love it any way I can get it with you,” Dean smirked. “It’s always good.”

He made quick work of shoving his jeans and boxers down just far enough to expose his hardening length, his head falling back against the seat as I quickly kicked off my boots and shimmied out of my jeans and underwear.

“I’d tell you to take your top off but…”

“Later,” I promised, grabbing a fistful of his black T-shirt and tugging him over to the passenger side of the car.

Dean quickly yanked his own flannel off, balling it up and putting it behind my head with a not so subtle wink, before descending; one knee on the bench seat, the other leg planted firmly on the floor. His hands slipped behind my thighs, pulling me as close as possible before stopping; his eyes were half lidded but focused on me as one hand slid up, past my knee, up, up, up until he was able to cup my jaw, thumb running idly over my bottom lip.

“I never get tired of seeing you like this.” “Could say the same about you, Handsome.” I grinned, the words turning to a moan as Dean shifted his hips forward until he was buried to the hilt.

“Fuck, thats the best feeling.” He groaned, dropping his head to my shoulder.

“Reminds me of when you whisked me away for a joyride when we were kids.” I sighed, pushing a hand into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp.

“Except we were in the backseat and parked by the beach… way more romantic.”

“Still romantic,” I whispered, lifting my hips to give him a little nudge of encouragement.

“I hear ya,” he ground out. “I’ve got ya, I’m right here.”

My hands fell from around his neck down to grip his biceps as he pulled out and thrust back in, the slow drag of him as he pulled out coupled with the sharp, pleasure-pain sting of his hips meeting mine as he picked up speed was something I would never tired of.

“… this is gonna be short lived baby… fuck!”

The Impala rocked beneath us as Dean’s thrusts became harder and more erratic, his gaze on me absolutely wild.

“Dean… fuck, please!”

“You close, sweetheart?”

“So close…”

Even in his own haze, before another word could leave my mouth, before I begged for more than he was already giving, he knew. Bracing one hand on the back of the seat, Dean dropped his other hand between our bodies, his thumb finding my swollen clit like a magnet, and began drawing tight circles over the sensitive nub.

“That what you needed?”

“Yes…oh god, Don't stop…right there…I’m-“

The words died on my lips as my orgasm crashed down around me. If I was tethered by Dean’s lips on mine before, then this was life support, and Dean was the only one capable of keeping me from flatlining. His eyes were locked on mine as he gave one final, deep thrust, his own orgasm on the heels of mine, our lips meeting as he worked us both through it.

As the aftershocks wore off and our breathing returned to normal, the two of us remained tangled in each other’s embrace in the front seat of the car.

“Normally I don’t advocate for you putting pants back on but…” I gave a firm squeeze to Dean’s backside in good jest.

“No one wants to see my ass.” He grinned, gently pulling out of me before searching for the roll of paper towels that he kept stashed in the glove box.

“That’s not true.” I rolled my eyes.

“Okay, no one except you wants to see my ass.” He winked, ripping off a few sheets before passing them to me.

I quickly cleaned up before pulling my underwear and jeans back up. We moved silently, but together, Dean balling up the used paper towels and tossing them outside the car, leaving the window cracked for some fresh air.

“C’mere…” he grinned, leaning back in the drivers seat and opening his arms for me.

I slid across the seat, snuggling into his side, bringing my legs up on the bench as Dean wrapped his arm around me.

“Thank you for my wakeup call.” He looked down just as I looked up, a smile on his face.

“You’re welcome,” I leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I can’t say my motives were entirely without self benefit though.”

“Oh I know.” He chuckled.

We stayed like that, tucked up together, watching as the sun rose higher, and the world began its day.

The sound of boots on gravel startled us, Dean immediately looking into the rear view mirror to see who was coming.

“Sam?”

“Yea… looks like he picked up breakfast.”

“The big lug,” I chuckled. “He’s gonna know we had sex in here.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time and sure as hell won’t be the last, sweetheart.”

Before I could respond, the back door creaked open and Sam lumbered in. He was balancing a tray of coffees in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. He tossed the greasy bag up front, not caring that it missed the seat and landed on the floor by Dean’s feet.

“Come on, guys…” he groaned.

“What?” Dean cut his eyes to his brother in the rear view mirror.

“Could you two at least try and wait till we find a motel?” Sam griped, passing two coffees over to me. “And don’t say it’s house rules.”

Turning the key in the ignition, Dean grinned at me before cutting his eyes to his brother in the rear view.

“Shut up and drink your coffee.”

#Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester Smut #Supernatural Fic #Dean Winchester x OFC #Gina Baker Writes

[virtualreader]

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.”

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?

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

#dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural #spn #hbo supernatural #the winchester brothers #supernatural fanfiction #dean supernatural #sam winchester #supernatural fandom #spnfandom #sam and dean #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x reader fluff

[waywardxwords]

I Always Have

Summary: Dean reluctantly agrees to visit a haunted house with you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: Slight language, small mention of claustrophobia, fluff!

A/N: Day 3 of the #flufftober2023 (@flufftober) prompt challenge! The prompt is: "Wait, you love me?" - "I always have." Side note: if you are on my tag list, I am planning/attempting to post once a day during the month of October. I know that’s a lot of tags and mentions, so if you’d like to be removed you can do so through the Tag List linked in my bio.

Enjoy!

Haunted Houses weren’t really Dean’s thing…well, of course real haunted houses were. But this was different. This wasn’t haunted by real spirits or monsters; mostly just local high school and college students who needed extra money in the fall so they dressed up like ghosts and ghouls. 

Dean had always hated the idea of actually visiting a haunted house. “You’re gonna pay money to go into an old building and have idiot kids try to scare you? Seriously? That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.” 

“It’s not just a haunted house, Deanie,” you had egged him on with the nickname he didn’t seem to appreciate. “It’s the pumpkins, and the apple cider, and that fun feeling of experiencing fall and Halloween as a kid.” He had just rolled his eyes. You loved getting under his skin, and as much as you would tell Sam you didn’t know why, you knew (and Sam knew, for that matter).

“Would you two just kiss already?” Sam had teased you from the kitchen of the bunker one night after you had poked and pushed on Dean so hard he had given up and retreated to his bedroom. 

“Ew,” you had forced yourself to shudder at the thought. “Don’t make me puke.”

He laughed so hard he tossed his head back as he did it. “Yeah, okay. The tension between you two is about to make me puke, so do me a favor and just keep it outta the main living areas, got it?” He wasn’t able to dodge the sponge you had been washing dishes with as you tossed it right at his head. 

So here you stood on this October night in the bunker looking at Dean blankly. You blinked twice. 

“You comin’ or not?” He drawled with mock frustration as he pulled his army green jacket over his red and black buffalo plaid flannel. He grabbed the keys off of the counter top and looked at you expectantly. 

“You’re taking me to the haunted house?” You still didn’t believe him. 

“I was plannin’ on it, but you better hurry the hell up before I change my mind,” he grumbled but couldn’t hide the tug at the corner of his lips as you practically squealed and ran by him to get your jacket. 

“Dude,” Sam eyed his brother as soon as you were out of ear shot. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” Dean held up his hand and went to wait for you in the Impala. 

“What made you change your mind?” You finally asked as Dean pulled the Impala into a parking spot in the dirt field. There were tons of other cars—this wasn’t just a haunted house, but a haunted trail as well and you could hardly hide your excitement. 

“I was tired of hearin’ you bitch and moan,” he shot you a cheesy, over exaggerated smile with his eyes squinted. You rolled your eyes and flung the door open. “Hey, careful with my Baby!” He chirped, his face suddenly morphed into a small scowl. 

“I’m not gonna hurt your precious car, Deanie,” you teased as you met him by the front of the Impala. Each step you took almost had a skip to it, and you couldn’t help yourself as you slipped your arm through his and linked it just at his elbow. 

You weren’t sure if you imagined it, but you felt like his demeanor softened. The two of you walked like that as your boots crunched against the gravel and dirt. There were quite a few others there and a line had formed. The trail was dark but lit by yellow glowing lanterns strung from trees and solar path lights on the ground. 

“Fifteen dollars per person,” there was a teenaged boy at the front of the line with a cash box. Dean’s scowl returned. “Cash only.” He added on at the end. 

“Seriously? Fifteen bucks?” He looked at the kid who just pointed to the sign taped to the front of the table he was at. It read in printed font, ‘$15 per adult’. “Great,” Dean fumbled in his back pocket for his wallet. 

“I got it, Dean. You brought me here and I know it’s not your thing,” you reached for your cross body bag to fish out the money. 

“I got it,” Dean huffed as he retrieved a $20 and a $10 from his leather wallet. “Here.” He handed it to the kid. The kid nodded you both into the event. “What first? Trail or house?” 

“Hmm,” you pondered, your excitement had returned. “Let’s do the trail first.” Your eyes wandered for a second and a squeal left your lips again before you could reign it back in as your gaze noticed a booth just ahead. 

“Jesus Christ,” Dean mumbled, but there was a slight chuckle tucked behind it. 

“Apple cider!” You practically pulled him towards the stand. There was no line, so you were under the lights of the vendor almost immediately. “Two apple ciders, please.” This time, you were sure to pull out your wallet first. 

“That’ll be six dollars,” the woman returned with two cups of cider. You handed her the cash and handed a cup to Dean. 

“Cheers!” You beamed as you clinked your paper cup against his. You noticed a small eye roll from him, but he obliged and took a sip. 

He made a sour face. “Why do you love this stuff?” He rubbed his lips together to get the sweet sticky substance off. 

“I think the real question is, how do you not love this kinda stuff,” you threw back at him as you looped your arm back through his and slowly walked towards the trail. “Halloween is so magical, Dean! It’s literally the best time of year. I think they’ve even polled people on that and determined it is actually the majority's favorite time of the year.”

“Yeah, well, they forgot to poll me on that one,” he grumbled. “We fight this stuff every day. Not this stuff, because it’s fake. But the real deal—the kinda stuff that could kill us. How are you not jaded by that?”

You took a moment before you answered. Your feet stopped moving, so Dean’s stopped too. He turned to look at you as your arm fell out of his. 

“When I was a kid, my Dad loved Halloween. I swear, his whole mood changed when fall rolled around. He built a wooden casket and rigged it with fishing wire to open when our front door opened. We scared every kid that came to our house. And kids would literally come from all over to get spooked,” the memory brought a smile to your lips. “I didn’t even want to trick-or-treat half the time. I just wanted to be at home with my Dad scaring the local middle schoolers. My Dad could be difficult,” your smile fell for a moment as other memories tried to make their way through—memories that Dean was well versed in at this point in your friendship. “But when Halloween came around? Man, those were the best days.”

Dean was silent as his eyes watched your face. He saw the emotions ebb and flow as you spoke. He nodded once. “Okay, then,” he said simply. “Let’s go get spooked.” This time, he held his arm out for you to link yours through, causing you to smile. 

The trail ended up being more hilarious than terrifying. But you and Dean had thoroughly enjoyed watching others jump and yell as they made their way through. 

Next up, the haunted house. This was a little bit different than the trail, as the hallways were so tightly constructed, only one person could walk ahead at a time. You shuddered slightly as you waited, but it was enough for Dean to notice.

“Oh, come on,” he teased as he glanced over his shoulder at you. “You’re not scared, are you?”

Your face scrunched at him as you gave him a slight nudge. “Not scared,” you emphasized. “Just jumpy…” sounds of other haunted house goers ahead of you erupted from just inside the corridor–it made you excited all over again. 

It was your turn to enter the main hallway next. They paused between groups to give everyone the full experience. Dean led the way with you closely behind. The house was even darker than outside, if possible, so it took your eyes a second or two to adjust. 

There were fake cobwebs and a strobe light tucked away somewhere that sent flashes of light in the hall. Screams filled your ears, and you weren’t sure if they were from other patrons or if there was an audio playing in the background—probably the latter. Your eyes danced around in sensory overload as you tried to take it all in. As Dean rounded the first corner, you missed the memo that there were holes cut out in the wall, so when the first pair of hands reached out followed by someone growling behind the plywood, you couldn’t help the way your body jumped or the scream that followed. 

Dean tossed his head back in laughter and turned briefly to look at you. Your heart beat pretty hard against your chest, but you still reached out to swat at him. He surprised you by catching your wrist with his large palm and carefully pulled your arms so they were around his middle. He held them there, and you realized he was giving you something to hold onto. 

“Alright, Kat Harvey,” he referenced your favorite Casper-loving character from the classic ghost movie. “You’re alright.” The hum of his voice vibrated through the layers of clothing on his back. Even though you didn’t feel scared anymore, you couldn’t pull your arms away. 

You inched behind Dean throughout the rest of the haunted house, laughter erupted from both of you as teenagers tried to scare you. It was refreshing to see Dean laugh—truly laugh—and it made you smile. 

As you exited the house, he released your hands he had clutched against his middle and cleared his throat. “That was…”

“I know, I know,” you rolled your eyes as you shook off the empty feeling you felt without his touch. “It was lame, you can say it.”

He hesitated for a moment as he looked back to the house and then shrugged towards you. “Nah, I was gonna say it was actually kinda fun.” A smile tugged at his lips. 

“Oh…” you grinned back. “Yeah, it was fun. Thanks for bringing me here, Dean.” You tucked a fallen strand of hair behind your ear and turned to head back to the parking lot. 

“Where are you going?” He asked. When you turned back, you noticed he hadn’t moved from his spot. 

“Uh…back to the car? That was all you had signed up for…heck, you kinda threw me a bone agreeing to do both the trail and the haunted house.”

“Nuh uh,” he shook his head. “I spent thirty bucks to get us in here. There’s a pumpkin carving booth over there. You said ‘pumpkins, apple cider and haunted houses’. We’re doin’ all three, dammit,” he said firmly but followed it up with a smile. 

Your eyes beamed at at him and you bit your bottom lip gently before striding back over to him, “God, I love you.” Your breath caught in your throat after the last word and you froze. With widened eyes, you refused to meet his gaze. 

There was a long pause that felt much longer than it probably was. But very quietly you heard his voice, “Wait, you love me?”

You paused again, but put on your big girl panties and turned to him slowly. “I always have.”

His eyes watched you closely for a moment, and then he moved to you so smoothly. His lips brushed against yours for a moment before he pulled away, but went in for another. 

“I love you, too,” he murmured gently just as your lips parted. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach before he held his arm out for you once more. “Let’s go carve some pumpkins.” He smiled at you, and this time you knew it was different. It was a smile of contentment. Like everything he had needed, had come to fruition in that moment. 

“Let’s,” you beamed back at him as you tucked your arm through his. He leaned towards you for one more kiss before you made your way to the pumpkin carving station. While you weren’t sure what this meant or how your life was about to change, it didn’t matter at that moment. You had pumpkins, apple cider, haunted houses and Dean Winchester at your fingertips. And with that, you couldn’t think of a more perfect autumn evening.

Thanks for reading!

Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lyarr24

#flufftober2023 #flufftober #03 #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural ff #spn fanfic #spn ff #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic

[eclecticpatrolroadlawyer]

Chapter 3

Summary: Bucky and Y/n are in arranged marriage. Bucky is having an affair. This is all it is about... Let's see where Y/n's fate lies... Should we?

Pairings: Bucky x reader, Bucky x Dot, reader x Dean Winchester

Genre: angst, affair, unrequited love, blurb

Illicit Affairs

chapter 1 chapter 2

5 months later after Dot and Bucky's meeting (i.e. 3 months earlier)

Dot's POV

Taking a deep breath, I enter the restaurant with a gentle smile, scrolling through my phone to check for any messages. Spotting Bucky at a table, looking out the window, I smile and walk up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder to make my presence known.

He jumps a little at the sudden touch, turning to see me, a breath of relief escaping him. "Oh. It's you…haha yeah, it's you," he says, his tone a mix of surprise and nervousness. Ignoring his initial reaction, I reply with a smile, "Yes, of course, it's me—on our date, whom you were expecting." I tease him playfully, and he chuckles, shaking his head. "No, no… nothing… Yes, you are right, my bad, doll."

As Bucky chuckles at my teasing remark, I decide to add a bit more to lighten the mood.

"You know, for a moment there, I thought I might have been replaced by a secret agent or something. I mean, the way you reacted, I half-expected you to say, 'The eagle has landed, mission accomplished,'" I quip, a playful glint in my eyes.

Bucky bursts into a genuine laugh, his earlier tension dissipating. "Well, you caught me off guard. Next time, I'll try to keep my spy skills in check," he jokes, raising an imaginary spy hat.

We share a laugh, the atmosphere lightening, and I take a seat across from him. The initial surprise forgotten, we settle into the easy rhythm of a date, enjoying each other's company amidst the cozy ambiance of the restaurant.

In the midst of our date, he excuses himself for a bathroom break, and as I patiently wait, a soft glow emanates from his phone. Intrigued unintentionally, I glance at the screen, revealing 24 unread messages from someone labeled 'wife.' The weight of that word hits me like an unexpected storm, and my breath catches. I double-check, my eyes fixated on the screen, and time seems to come to a standstill. Emotions surge within me—a tumultuous blend of confusion, heartache, and an unfamiliar ache that words struggle to define. It's an unusual feeling, foreign yet poignant, as the realization dawns that I might have merely been a fleeting moment in the tapestry of his life that he shred.

As he returns from the bathroom, I attempt to hide the inner turmoil, plastering a smile on my face. The weight of the discovered messages lingers, creating an invisible barrier between us. We resume our conversation, but my mind is a filled of thoughts, swirling with unspoken questions. The restaurant buzzes around us, but something's off.

As the evening unfolds, the once vibrant colors of our date now seem muted. There's a feeling like things were messed up—the threads of his life kind of tangled. Silence wraps around us, punctuated by the clinking of cutlery and distant chatter. The air between us gets heavy, and we sit in quiet, the noise of the place highlighting the unspoken things hanging there.

"Are you okay?" His hand on mine grounds me, but I'm lost in a whirlwind of uncertainty. I nod quietly, my lips parting, struggling to find words to calm the chaos within.

Questions torment me—confront or ignore? Logic demands answers, but my heart quivers at the thought of the truth. I stare at him, silently pleading for reassurance, as if hoping he'll unveil this as a prank, a figment of my imagination.

The unsettling image lingers, and with a heavy sigh, I unconsciously let out, loud enough for him to hear, "It's all a mess." Each word carries the weight of confusion, hurt, and a yearning for things to make sense again.

Days pass, the weight of the unanswered questions lingering between us. The air is thick with tension, and I find myself unable to carry the burden of uncertainty any longer.

One evening, as we sit in a quiet corner of the park, I gather the courage to break the silence. The golden hues of the setting sun cast a warm glow, yet my heart is heavy with the unspoken.

Taking a deep breath, I look into Bucky's eyes, searching for the truth I desperately need. "Bucky, there's something on my mind, and I can't keep pretending everything is okay. I saw those messages, the ones from your 'wife.' Can you please help me understand? I need to know what's happening."

The words hang in the air, and the park's serene ambiance contrasts with the storm brewing within me. His reaction, his response—everything is poised on the edge, waiting to unravel the tangled threads of our story.

"Bucky," I shake him gently, my voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Who's she? Are you married?" I ask again, louder this time, my hands shaking as I cling to the hope that it's all just a misunderstanding. "Tell me it's not true. TELL ME IT'S NOT WHAT I THINK IT IS!" I shout, unable to contain the rising panic and anguish within me.

My outburst attracts a few curious glances from passersby, but I try to regain control, taking a deep breath to steady myself as tears well up in my eyes.

"I… I need to go," I whisper, a quiet plea to escape the unbearable truth. As I make to leave, I see the disbelief in Bucky's eyes, his shaky breath betraying his inner turmoil. His silent plea begs me to stay, to listen, but I can't bear to look at him any longer. Disappointment floods me as I meet his gaze, shaking my head in silent reproach. Closing my eyes, I let a few tears slip down my cheeks before gathering my purse and walking away, leaving him alone at the table.

After reaching home, I close the door behind me, leaning against it as tears cascade down my cheeks, finally allowing myself to release the flood of emotions I've been holding back.

"I trusted him," I whisper to myself, the words heavy with betrayal and disbelief. I sink to the floor, clutching my legs to my chest, burying my face in my hands as I cry. Each sob feels like a dagger to my heart, a painful reminder of the shattered trust and broken dreams.

As the minutes pass, I cry like a child, the weight of my heartache crushing me. I curse myself for being so foolish, for letting my guard down and allowing myself to love so deeply. Bright colors of hope and happiness that once filled my heart now seem distant and faded, replaced by a darkness that threatens to consume me once more.

The pain is unbearable, a relentless ache that pierces through every fibre of my being. I feel lost and alone, abandoned by the one person I thought was my safe haven. It hurts—oh, how it hurts—more than I ever thought possible.

"I gave it my all, and he gave me nothin' at all," I murmur to myself, the words heavy with resignation and sorrow. In the quiet solitude of my home, surrounded by the echoes of my own pain, I confront the harsh reality of unrequited love. Despite pouring my heart and soul into the relationship, it feels like I've received nothing in return but heartache and disappointment. It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that I gave everything I had to someone who couldn't—or wouldn't—meet me halfway.

The days stretched on, each one a painful reminder of the shattered pieces of my heart. I bury myself in work, in hobbies—anything to distract myself from the gaping void left by Bucky's betrayal. But no matter how busy I kept myself, his absence lingered like a haunting shadow.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the world outside grew still, there comes a hesitant knock at my door. My heart skipped a beat as I approached, uncertainty mingling with a flicker of hope.

Opening the door, I am met with the sight of Bucky, his usual confident demeanour replaced by an uncharacteristic vulnerability. "Can we talk?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with regret.

Part of me wanted to slam the door shut, to shut him out like he had shut me out. But another part—a part that still holds onto the memories of love and laughter—couldn't turn him away.

I nod silently, stepping aside to let him in. We sit in awkward silence for a moment, the weight of our unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispers, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I messed up. I never meant to hurt you."

His words stir something inside me—anger, hurt, but also a lingering spark of longing. Against my better judgment, I find myself drawn to him, the magnetic pull between us undeniable.

Before I can stop myself, I close the distance between us, my hand reaching out to touch his cheek. Our eyes meet, and in that moment, the floodgates of desire open, the tension crackling between us like electricity.

One kiss leads to another, and soon we are lost in a hunger that had been brewing quietly. Clothes fell away, our inhibitions tossed aside as we surrendered to the primal longing that surged within us.

In the heat of the moment, all thoughts of pain and betrayal melted away, replaced by the intoxicating rush of passion and desire. We collapse into each other's arms, spent and breathless, even though I know it is wrong, even though he has a wife.

Soon I find myself entangled in an illicit affair.

Make sure nobody sees you leave

Hood over your head, keep your eyes down

Tell your friends you're out for a run

You'll be flushed when you return

Take the road less traveled by

Tell yourself you can always stop

What started in beautiful rooms

Ends with meetings in parking lots

And that's the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and longing stares

It's born from just one single glance

But it dies, and it dies, and it dies

A million little times

Leave the perfume on the shelf

That you picked out just for him

So you leave no trace behind

Like you don't even exist

Take the words for what they are

A dwindling, mercurial high

A drug that only worked

The first few hundred times

And that's the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and stolen stares

They show their truth one single time

But they lie, and they lie, and they lie

A million little times

And you wanna scream

Don't call me "kid"

Don't call me "baby"

Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

You showed me colors

You know I can't see with anyone else

Don't call me "kid"

Don't call me "baby"

Look at this idiotic fool that you made me

You taught me a secret language

I can't speak with anyone else

And you know damn well

For you, I would ruin myself

A million little times

Note: Hey guys! Hope you like it. English is actually my second language so if there's any mistake you can inform me by messaging me privately. And PLEASE REBLOG AND DON'T STEAL MY WORK. Please like and comment too so, that I can know your views. Thank you for reading guys! Have a nice day and please comment if you wanna be tagged in.

Taglist: @angstysebfan @cjand10@learisa @themorningsunshine @binkszamsstuff

@dreamerglassesgirl @winterslove1917 @perfectpieslimeprune@nikkivillar @bethexo07 @vicmc624 @pattiemac1 @ozwriterchick @rqse-writes @mega-kittyglitter-1

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #y/n insert #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #bucky barnes blurb #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes cheating #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #cheating angstG #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural deans #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester angst #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction

[deangirlsstuff67]

Wanna Touch?

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Nipple and Clit Piercing, dirty talk, fingering, oral mentioned, Unprotected sex, P in V, cum play, creampie, PWP

Summary: Dean's been with his share of women, but none have ever had piercings.

Masterlist | Patreon

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Dean's always been a charmer. Could get into any woman's panties with just a sexy smirk and wink. Y/N was no different, you'd have to be blind not to fall in love with the man.

The boys saved y/n ass on a solo hunt one day years ago and since then the three have been inseparable. Even added Cas and Jack to their little family along the way.

You never allowed yourself to cross the invisible line you placed in the sand. You also highly doubt Dean sees you any other way than a friend. Knowing your luck he sees you like he sees Charlie, a little sister.

Friend zoned by your own doing.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean and you are training yet again this week. It started when you went to the gym this morning sexually frustrated after dreaming of a certain green eyed hunter.

Hoping hitting the bag will relieve some tension.

Wrong.

Dean found you a hour later asking if you wanted to do some training. Knowing it was a bad idea you agreed, at least he would be touching you. Nothing turns you on more than playing with fire.

That's how you found yourself in this situation. Dean has you pinned by your throat against the gym wall. Both of you breathing heavy and staring at one another. His leg is between your thighs while he's hard body is pinning yours.

In your spandex work out shorts you have the perfect feeling against your clit hood piercing. He's rubbing in all the right ways without knowing it.

Your mind is a fog of desire as you drown in the sound of his husky voice. All of a sudden a moan slips from your lips,silencing Dean.

Embarrassed and even more frustrated than before you try to wiggle out of his grasp. That make fires and your eyes roll when you hit your piercing again.

God that feels amazing.

You feel his thigh move slightly drawing another breathy moan from you. "Well shit." Then he does it again.

Move. Moan. Move. Moan. Pretty soon your riding his thigh. Dean brings his lips to yours, taking them in a deep passionate kiss. You bite down on his lower lip causing his hips to jerk into your body. His hard and big.

Soon it's not enough. You need him to touch you. "Dean, please."

"I got you sweetheart." You feel his large hand descend down your body and beneath your waist band. You have done laundry yet, and just prefer to be commando.

"Youre going to kill me y/n." His calloused fingers spread your lower lips wide as he finds your clit. Just when you thought he was going to put you out of your misery, he stills.

Looking at his shocked face you begin to think he's regretting this, "what's wrong?"

"Fuck that's hot." He flicks your piercing, watching pleasure wash over your features. "Never gotten to play with one of these before." He flicks it again, this time smiling as he watches you. "Oh baby, I'm going to have fun with you."

Before you can respond He is knuckle deep with two thick fingers in your dripping core, thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit, purposely hitting the jeweled ring every time.

Moaning in your ear he asks, "you're dripping sweetheart , all this from my hands on your body?"

"Yes Dean."

He quickly works you over. Has you clamping down around his fingers as he works you through it. Pulling his fingers from your shorts he puts them in your mouth and you suck the taste of yourself from them, making him groan.

"Next time baby. Right now I need to be in you."

Releasing his fingers with a 'pop', "god... yes"

He holds you against the wall still, wrapping your legs around his waist before pull his sweats just far enough down to release his huge cock. Looking down you see his perfect cock glistening with pre cum and angry.

Dean captures your lips with his again as he thrusts himself to the hilt in your velvety walls. You cry out with the stretch he causes as your body struggles to take him.

"Son of a bitch y/n, you feel amazing." Then he begins to slowly thrust inside of you.

After a couple minutes you need more, "Dean... more please. I need more."

Dean doesn't have to be asked twice. Smiling before taking your nipple through your sports bra and snapping his hips fast and rough into your tight core.

"God damn even your nipples are pierced." He bites down on one, sending you into the strongest orgasm you've ever experienced. "Going to have to play with these later."

You feel his rhythm faulter as he's release grows closer. Three more hard thrusts and his fingers rubbing your clit into another small orgasm, thanks to his new toy, you feel find splatter your inner walls in warmth as rope after rope of cum fills you.

His cum begins to leak past his cock as he slowly thrusts into your soaked pussy to completely empty himself. Groans and whimpers fill the otherwise silent room.

He's head on your chest you both try to catch your breath for a moment. His now softening cock slips from you, your combined juices begin to leak from your opening.

You feel a low growl vibrates your chest, "fuck, look at you leaking my cum and making a mess." His fingers begin to play with the mess between your legs, "shit that's fucking sexy as sin."

You feel him grow against you leg. Round two it is.

#dean girl #dean winchester #jensen ackles #supernatural #spn fanfic #dean x you #deanwinchtser #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x original female character #dean winchester x reader

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

Black Tie Optional: Final Part

Summary: The last time we saw Vanessa, she was swooning over Dean’s lasting impression. Now, we fast-forward a year to see what she’s up to.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC Vanessa Martinelli, (eventual) Sam Winchester x OFC Emma Olsen

Warnings for this part: 18+ ONLY, SERIES FINAL REWRITE BECAUSE FUCK THAT REBAR, "one thing about Dean Winchester is, if a Toddler handed him a toy phone, he'd answer it"

Words in this part: 4,800

Author's notes: Follow-up to Plus One.

Thank you, @brrose-apothecary and @stusbunker for the read-throughs and greenlight.

text divider by @talesmaniac89

Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

FINAL PART

The wedding party hits a few pubs on the way back to the hotel. Vanessa declares herself to be the “only sensible adult in this car” at their first stop and makes Sam take her place in the front passenger seat for the rest of the ride.

Dean watches her in his rearview mirror as she and Emma snap selfies in the backseat. From the very first moment he met her over a year ago, Dean knew she was special. She’s beautiful, yeah, but she’s so real and funny and smart.  

Vanessa finally meets his gaze, and her eyelids flutter like they always do when she sees him like it’s the first time. He wonders if that’ll ever fade. Dean smiles, and she smiles back.

They pull up to the last bar and pile out onto the curb. 

Dean rounds the hood of the car to where Vanessa is waiting for him as Sam and Emma make their way inside.

“Ya know, that little twinkle in your eye and this dress’re makin’ it hard for me to be a gentleman.” He steps close and reaches for her wrist, pulling her into him.

“Who told you to be gentle?” Vanessa slides her hands inside his unbuttoned jacket to wrap her arms around his waist. When her fingers bump against cold steel, she tenses. “Oh-” 

Dean clasps his hands at the small of her back and looks down at her. “Just in case. OK?” 

Vanessa relaxes in his embrace and nods.

“Kay,” he mutters, dropping a kiss to the crown of her head.

She questions whether she should be troubled by the gun at his back. But she isn’t; in fact, the discovery serves to crystallize what she knows about him into the perfect shape of a man she trusts with her life, and her heart.   

“A’right, Big Guy,” Emma coos as Sam helps her out of the Impala for the last time of the evening. “You and me, utility closet.”

She smooths her hands over her hips and tosses her hair over her shoulders. 

Sam cocks a brow as he lets the heavy backdoor close. “Well, then, I guess we better get movin’.”

Emma giggles, taking off in a sprint with Sam hot on her stilettoed heels. 

“They’re stealing our moves!” Vanessa laughs as Dean helps her onto the curb.

“Borrowing, kitten. No one’s takin’ that broom closet from us.”

Vanessa’s chest warms from his words and the look in his eyes. At one point, she thought Dean would be nothing more than a thrilling memory and story to tell, which sustained her for a while. Now, though, the ability to savor each moment, knowing that once their door closes tonight, he will make her feel like the most deserving, most treasured woman in the building, if not the galaxy, is sure to leave her wanting when he leaves tomorrow. She knows that now. 

“Yo, lovebirds,” Nicole calls. “Let’s get inside so they can announce the bride and groom and start dinner.” She nods toward the ballroom, and Dean and Vanessa reluctantly unwind from each other’s embrace to follow her and the others. 

Emma and Sam are MIA, but Nicole summons enough grace not to call it out. Once the wedding party and their dates are seated at the head table, Toni and her new husband enter the room. The guests cheer, and the first dance begins. 

During the first toast, the missing couple materializes at the head table, disheveled and flushed. Dean snorts a laugh as Sam takes a seat beside his date.

“Sammy, I gotta tell ya,” Dean leans across the table toward Sam. “I like the effect this girl’s got on you.”

Sam seems to blush darker, if possible. “Me, too,” he admits, flicking his bright gaze to meet Dean’s as Emma burrows into his side and the staff serves them salad.

The second course is served while Dean quietly immerses himself in a scenario where he and Sam aren’t hunting the sister of the Almighty. They’re bartenders or electricians with mortgages and dogs and car payments. The only reason either of them breaks a bone or bleeds is because of a mundane accident. They get eight hours of sleep at night and eat three meals a day. He regularly attends weddings and birthday parties with his beautiful girl at his side.

“Should we dance?” Vanessa’s voice creates a fissure of reality in his fantasy.

“Or maybe you don’t dance.” She tucks her chin to her chest and bats the thick dark lashes that frame her cerulean eyes. 

Dean’s momentarily speechless as his daydream twines its way around the very real, very tangible, very beautiful woman facing him with anticipation. She blinks, and he can almost feel the weight of his imagined existence settling around them, shimmering in the pin lights that hang from the rafters. 

“Dean?” Vanessa tilts her head with concern.

“It’d be an honor,” he answers, pushing away from the table to stand, offering her his hand.

Vanessa grins as she slides her hand across his open palm and stands to face him. “Such a gentleman.”

“Hmm. There’s that word again.”

They saunter toward the dancefloor, hand in hand and eye to eye, in time with the bluesy beat from Chris Stapleton’s cover of “Tennessee Whiskey” until they reach the edge. Dean drags her close with a flourish, one heavy hand at the small of her back, fingers teasing the skin that’s bared by the low-cut back of her silk dress, and the other lightly clasping her fingers in his palm. She rests her free hand over his heart and lets him lead the way. 

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are?”

“You did. The last time was about 30 minutes ago, between the mixed greens and beef tenderloin.”

Dean nods. “Then I’m due. You’re beautiful.”

Vanessa smiles.

“Did I tell you how good you smell?” Dean draws small circles over the silky skin of her lower back.

“Probably.” She smirks, and he grins back.

“Did I tell you how hard it’s gonna be to wait another- wait, how long do I have to wait to get you naked?”

Vanessa throws her head back with a hearty laugh.

They dance through Chris Stapleton, John Mayer, and Calvin Harris, chatting with Emma and Sam until the DJ declares a free-for-all, and the rest of the guests flood the dancefloor for “Uptown Funk”.

“Aaand I’m done.” Dean twirls Vanessa once before turning and forging a path through the oncoming crowd, taking Vanessa with him.

“Not feelin’ funky?” She teases. 

“Oh, I can be funky, but not that kinda funky.”

Before they get too far, Dean almost trips over Ari. He recovers quickly when the little girl stares up at him with big brown eyes that aggressively tug the strings of his heart.

“Ari, honey, you’re underfoot!” Silvia playfully scolds her granddaughter. “She just wants to dance.”

Ari sways side to side and bounces on the balls of her feet. 

“There ya go!” Vanessa croons, reaching for one of Ari’s hands to play along with her. She’s only slightly taken aback when Dean reaches for the little girl’s other hand.

Ari giggles and hops up and down as the trio dances back toward the crowd. There are other people Ari could dance with; her uncles and aunts are all there, but she seems drawn to Dean and Vanessa. Especially Dean.

The DJ really likes Bruno Mars because he follows “Uptown Funk” with “Count On Me”. Ari pulls her hand out of Vanessa’s grasp and reaches for Dean to pick her up, and Dean doesn’t falter.

Unlike Vanessa, Sam is floored by Dean’s eagerness to entertain the pre-schooler. He watches with unrestrained curiosity. 

“It’s pretty sweet of him to look after Ari like that,” Emma says, resting her temple against Sam’s chest as she watches the little girl twine her fingers with Dean’s.

“Yeah,” Sam replies. “Dean’s good with kids. I’m just not used to seeing him with kids for pure enjoyment.”

Emma looks up at him, brow arched. “Is that an allusion to the family business?” 

Sam startles before meeting her curious gaze with a shrug. “I guess it is.”

“Really?”

He nods. “It’s complicated.”

Emma chuckles and rolls her eyes. “Of course it is.”

“No, I mean it.” He pauses, thinking about the times he didn’t tell the people he cared about what he did with his life, and they still died. “But... I’ll tell you about it. Later.”

“Are you sure?” Emma marvels.

“I’m sure.”

Five feet away, Vanessa watches Dean slowly shuffling side to side, holding the little girl on his hip. He spins in a circle like a Disney prince twirling his princess — like chivalry and devotion are embedded in his DNA. She wants to shower him with that kind of affection and tenderness, not just lust. And she’s fully aware of how hard she’s fallen for him with no way of getting up.

After a couple of songs, Ari has settled her head on Dean’s shoulder. A yawn and an eye rub beckon Silvia to collect her granddaughter for bed.

“Come on, Cinderella.” Silvia reaches for Ari, and Dean hands her over. “Don’t want you turning into a pumpkin right here in front of everyone.”

Ari nuzzles her grandma, waving to Dean as Vanessa takes her place as Dean’s dance partner. The couple waves back, bidding goodnight to Silvia and the little girl.

Dean refocuses his attention on his date, skimming an arm around her waist to pull her close. 

Vanessa fiddles with his tie a little before speaking. It’s been such a nice night. She doesn’t want it to end. 

“To answer your question from earlier, we can go upstairs any time you want after they cut the cake. But I have plans for tonight.” She meets his gaze. “So whatever you had in mind’s gonna have to wait.”

Dean holds his hands up in surrender. “No arguments here.”

As promised, once the cake is cut, Vanessa leads Dean to their suite. They have the elevator to themselves. As the doors close, Vanessa turns and slides her hands up over his shoulders and around his neck.

“I’ve been thinking about you all night.”

Dean smirks, mimicking her soft touch as he skirts his hands around her waist. 

“You’ve been with me all night, kitten — don’t have to think too much.” 

She shakes her head, her fingertips dancing over the ultrasoft nape above his collar. 

“What you did for Ari tonight was incredibly generous. I just want to show you the same kind of warmth and generosity.”

Dean scoffs and fidgets under her scrutiny, pulling her closer so he doesn’t have to look her in the eye. “She’s a kid; it ain’t hard to be nice to kids.”

Vanessa gently pushes back a few inches to look at him. “It wasn’t just nice, Dean. You danced with her because her dad couldn’t be there. You salvaged the heart of a 4-year-old.”

Dean rolls his eyes and tries to pull away, and Vanessa keeps a hold on his wrists.

“I mean it.” 

Dean sighs and finally stops hedging away as he settles his wary gaze on her.

“I know next to nothing about your background — your family, your day-to-day life — but I see the way your brother looks at you — like you hung the moon. And you give me confidence in a way no man has since my dad died.”

Dean’s brow furrows, and he steps back in to draw her closer. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“No, that’s not why I told you that.” She steps away and sighs. 

The doors open at their floor, and she steps out of the car, pulling him with her in silence until they reach their suite. Dean keys the door open and ushers her inside. 

“I’m gonna get out of this dress, but I still have some things I want to say, so...” she turns to face him as she kicks her shoes off just outside their bedroom door. “Get comfortable.”

Dean braces himself. “Whiskey comfortable, or boxers comfortable?”

Vanessa chuckles. “Boxers.” 

She enters their bedroom and heads to the bathroom to change. After filling a couple of water glasses, Dean follows. He undresses down to his boxers and undershirt and zips away his formal attire in its garment bag. Just as he’s settling against the head of the bed to scroll his phone, Vanessa comes out in a bathrobe with her hair tied on top of her head.

Dean sets his phone aside. “I didn’t know bathrobes were sexy, but here we are.”

Vanessa grins as she climbs onto the bed and astride Dean’s hips. “Says you in your plain white undershirt and black boxer briefs. You’re beautiful.”

Dean tucks his chin to his chest, sliding his hands up her thighs to meet her bare hips. “What’d you wanna tell me?”

“Things I want you to know.” She smooths her hands from his shoulders over his chest and back again.

“Maybe you don’t wanna hear this from me, or maybe my opinion of this side of you doesn’t matter, but you’re a beautiful man, Dean, in every way imaginable — you’re beautiful. You’re tough and strong but soft in all the best ways.” 

Dean drops his gaze to his lap, carefully considering his next words. He can’t tell her about gods and monsters. He can’t show her the decades-old bloodstains on his hands. He’ll never be able to 100% guarantee her safety from the things that go bump in the night.

But he can tell her some things.

“My mom died when I was Ari’s age,” he pauses, clearing his throat as he meets her eyes. “Sammy was six months old.”

Vanessa clamps her teeth over her bottom lip, biting back the emotion that threatens to well in her eyes. She nods, encouraging him to continue.

“Dad never really recovered. We grew up on the road, in the Impala and cheap motels.” He tilts his head, and his lips twist with a wistful smile. “The family business is... we help people. In ways a lot of other people can’t.”  

“So, you’re not in the mob.”

“No, we’re not in the mob.”

“I’m a triage nurse. That’s why...” She motions to his scarred knuckles. “I recognize scars and injuries pretty quickly. It’s hard not to notice you and your brother’s.”

“Explains a lot,” Dean replies, thinking not only of her skills in assessing a situation but her instincts and her compassion.

“My dad was a cop,” she continues. “Killed in the line of duty. You remind me of him — in a good way — like how kind and attentive you are. That’s definitely not to say you’re like a dad to me.”

“Glad ya said that because I was startin’ to worry,” Dean chuckles.

“I don’t know if I can ever be as good as you,” she ponders. “As good as you are making people feel important — but I’d like to try to show you how you make me feel.”

“Mmm, is that the plan you had for tonight before we started talking serious shit?”

“Mmhm.” Vanessa nods. “The serious shit had to be said, but I know- I know this is a limited-time kinda thing. And I get it. My job is crazy, too. But I’ll think about you all the time, and I hope you’ll think about me.”

Dean studies her for a moment. The daydream from dinner floats back into his mind, but this time, she knows what he really does, accepts him, and he’s able to keep her safe. He wishes he could ask his dream self how it’s done.

“I’ll never stop thinkin’ about you, kitten.”

“Then let’s make the most of our last few hours, shall we?” She leans in for a long kiss, and Dean allows himself to be loved by her for one last night.

Dean sips his coffee as he and Sam depart the Windy City in the wee hours of Sunday morning.

“I told Emma,” Sam breaks the typically sanctioned early morning silence. 

“You told Emma what?” Dean grumbles.

“About us,” Sam answers. “What we do.”

Dean blinks. “Wow. And how-”

“She believed me. That was my biggest fear — that she’d think I was making it up or something.”

Memories of Cassie, furious and cold, fill Dean’s mind. She didn’t believe him, and, really, who could blame her? Their life is absurd.

“What brought that on?” Dean asks as he merges onto the interstate, headed east, poking around for leads on Amara.

“I like her, Dean. A lot.”

Dean’s quiet for a while. He doesn’t know how Sam’s going to keep this going; he wouldn’t be able to, but if anyone can do it, it’s Sam.

“So... now what?” Dean’s genuinely curious.

Sam shrugs. “We take it slow. Keep in touch. How’d you leave things with Vanessa?”

“Left it where it’s at,” Dean answers immediately.

Sam rolls his eyes to look out the windshield and sighs. “So you think I made a mistake?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s me, Sam. I’d fuck it up. You’re better at this stuff than I am.”

Sam opens his mouth to argue but thinks better of it; Dean’s made his mind up. 

When Dean tells him that Vanessa knows more about his scars and wounds than a typical civvy, Sam tells him what he knows about Vanessa -- that she’s a triage nurse. He tells Dean that Emma’s also a nurse and that Nicole’s a surgeon. Dean’s response is less than appreciative.

“You know what, Sammy? I can do without the updates. I left it there for a reason. Drop it.” He gave Sam the same edged look that accompanied a threat to break his nose if he ever mentioned Lisa or Ben again, and Sam silently agreed to his conditions.   

But Sam cares more about Emma with every passing phone call. She’s intelligent and rational enough to handle the knowledge of what they do, so he keeps her as apprised of his life as she does of hers. Over the next few years, he grows to openly love her in a fully rounded, adult way that he’s never known. 

He begins to pity and then, later, resent Dean for ‘leaving it there’ because Sam loves Emma. He wants a real life with her. He knows that choosing to keep Emma in his life has made his life better, and he believes Vanessa could do the same for Dean.

Then one night, four years later, Sam and Dean end up in a place that demands Dean re-evaluate leaving Vanessa behind.

Canton, Ohio...

“Alright, let’s go find those kids and get them outta here.” Sam sheaths his machete.

“Sam. I don't-” Dean groans. “I don't think I'm goin’ anywhere.”

“What?” Sam looks over at his brother where he’s awkwardly stood against a post. “What’re you talking about?” 

“There's somethin’ in my- somethin’ in my back. Feels like it's right through me.”

Sam walks closer, reaching around Dean's back. When he brings his hand into the dim light, he sees it’s covered with blood. 

“Alright, umm.” Sam looks around the barn, wiping his hand on his pants as he reaches for Dean’s shoulders. “Hold on. OK. I got you.”

“No, no, no, no, no. Don't- don't move me. It feels like this thing's holdin’ me together right now.”

Sam huffs, reaching for his phone. “I’m calling Emma.”

“What? No. Just- just gimme a minute.”

Sam shakes his head. “No, Dean. No more minutes. Emma’s an ER nurse. Here in Canton. I’m calling her.”

Sam paces toward the barn door.

“Sam! Stay wi- stay with me. Can you stay with me, please?” Dean’s breath is labored, and his eyelids flutter.

Sam turns back to face his brother, keeping one hand on his shoulder while he holds the phone with his other. “I’m right here, man. I got you.” 

“What’s wrong?” Emma's voice comes across the speakerphone clear and concise.

“We’re in a barn about seven miles north of the town center. I sent you a pin. Dean’s... impaled... on a piece of rebar. Against a post.”

Dean groans again. “Sammy-”

“Fuck. OK.” Emma’s voice is temporarily muffled, and then it’s obvious by the rushed way she’s speaking that she’s running. “Where’s the entry wound?”

“His back. I think his heart.” Sam winces as his brother’s head lolls and sways. 

“Did it come through his chest?” She asks before muttering to someone on her end of the line to ‘head to the old barn down the road’.

“No- no, nothing in the front. Just the back. His clothes are soaked.”

“OK. Van’s calling the paramedics.”

“What?!” Dean wails, suddenly alert. “No! Not Nessa.” 

“...but we’ll get there faster,” Emma continues despite Dean’s protestation. “And I’m guessing you’re gonna need help covering up whatever you were fighting.”

Sam would tell Emma not to bring her roommate and best friend if his brother wasn’t dying before his eyes. He wants to honor Dean’s wishes to keep her safe, but he’s exhausted by Dean’s insistence that telling her is a bad idea. 

“Dean, this is happening,” Sam says before resuming his conversation with Emma. “Five vamps. How far are you?”

“We’re literally 60 seconds away. Do not remove him from the rebar until we get there. Find something to cut him down, and we’ll help. Hang in there.”

“See you then,” Sam says to Emma before disconnecting his call. 

“Nessa can’t- I can’t let her see me, this...” Dean pleads. 

“She can and she will. You’re not dying today. Emma knows everything, and Vanessa isn’t stupid. They’re coming to keep you alive, and I’m not arguing with you about this anymore.”

Sam quickly glances around the room until he locates the kind of tool he needs. “As soon as they get here, I’m grabbing those bolt cutters and cutting you down. We’ll go outside and wait for the paramedics. I’ll take the boys somewhere safe and meet you at the hospital.”

“All this time... was tryna keep her safe, away from all this.” Dean hangs his head.

Sam lifts his chin. “Dean, she’s strong. If there was ever a time to let her in, it’s now.”

Right on cue, Emma and Vanessa race through the door with bags of first aid supplies. 

“Get the bolt cutters; we’ll hold him up,” Emma instructs, removing what looks like a camping chair from an orange bag and turning it into an emergency gurney.

Then Vanessa takes over for Sam.

“Nessa,” Dean whispers as she cups his face in her hands. “I’m so- sorry. I couldn’t-”

Vanessa sniffs and shakes back tears “No apologies. Just stay with me. I need to assess the damage here, OK?”

He blinks slowly and gives her a lazy nod. 

“Where’s most of the pain, Dean?”

Dean shakes his head to stay awake, blinking rapidly. “At the entry. Everything else just feels... warm.”

“OK.” She moves to the side to give Emma room to take Dean’s other side as Sam works on the rebar with the bolt cutters. “Get as close as you can, Sam.”

She finally glances around the barn to see several decapitated bodies, the heads donned with masks. Her blood runs cold, and her heart races.

“Hey,” Dean’s voice cracks. “Don’t look at them; look at me, honey.”

Vanessa drags her gaze from the grisly scene to Dean’s pale face. She nods and gives him a weak smile before wedging herself under the opposite arm as Emma, keeping her eyes on him as he asked.

“Your breathing is labored. I’m guessing Sam’s right, and it’s your heart.” Tears fill her eyes as Dean tilts his head to rest against hers. She whispers. “Maybe your left lung. You’re lucky. Nicole’s one of the top Vascular surgeons in the country.”

“OK, I got a grip on this thing. Count of three,” Sam says before counting down and cutting clean through the steel.

The women hold him steady while Sam helps guide Dean to the stretcher and carry him outside.

“Fuck,” Dean breathes as Vanessa kneels beside him. “If I make it through this-”

“When. Not if.” She dips in to kiss him, hovering over him while Sam and Emma work quickly to hide the bodies in the barn. “You’re gonna make it, and you’re gonna tell me what I just saw in there.”

Dean blinks, and tears roll from his eyes. “I will, honey. I will.”

The paramedics arrive moments after Sam and Emma exit the barn. Vanessa gives them his vitals and a partially fabricated info dump as they work to stabilize him. As they load him into the ambulance, she climbs in.

“I got him, Sam. Meet us at the hospital.” She closes the doors, and the ambulance takes off. 

Dean wakes up in a brightly lit room. He remembers bits and pieces of a conversation that he fears and prays is real. When his vision clears, and he sees the person beside his bed, he’s 90% sure of what he remembers.

“Nicole?” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. “You an angel?” 

Nicole smirks and arches a brow. “Cute. I’m your surgeon, tough guy. This is what we call a post-op check.”

He’s now 100% sure.

“Post-op? What op?” He tries to joke as he shifts his weight very slightly and groans in pain. 

“You showed up here last night with a hunk of steel through your heart and lung. I took it out.” She checks his pulse, pokes at him, and prods. Dean’s 90% sure she’s being a little rougher than normal. “Good thing your brother didn’t ghost Emma like you ghosted Van.” 

“Ow!” And 100% it is.

“And, hmm,” she taps her chin. “You do know my name.”

“‘Course I do, I’s just fuckin’ with ya.”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “You’re doing great, Dean. I’ll be back later to check in again. Meanwhile, there’s a couple of people here to see you.”

Nicole draws the curtain that separates Dean from the rest of the room. On the other side sits Sam and Vanessa.

“Eat something if you’re hungry; otherwise, rest.”

Nicole breezes out of the room, leaving Dean with Vanessa and Sam, the latter of whom stands next to Dean’s bed, looking down at his bruised and bandaged brother with a tired smile. 

“You hungry? I can order you some food.”

“I’m starvin’, man. Get somethin’ bad for me.”

Sam rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Sure thing. Be back in a bit.”

He gives Vanessa a pointed look as he leaves the room.

Vanessa remains seated on the vacant bed across from Dean’s. She’s silent and thoughtful.

“You uhh, workin’?”

She shakes her head. “Just finished my shift.”

Dean nods. He doesn’t know if he should jump right in or what, so he asks her a question.

“How much do you know?”

She draws a deep breath and sighs. “That you saved two little boys and probably dozens more the other night.”

Dean closes his eyes. “Vampires are real.”

“Jesus,” Vanessa whispers, standing and moving to the side of his bed. She grasps his hand tightly. “What else?”

“Ghosts, ghouls, shapeshifters, werewolves, fuckin’ demons. They’re all real. Angels.” He squeezes her hand. “Angels are dicks, by the way, which is kinda shitty that I asked Nicole if she was one after she saved my life.” 

He chuckles, and Vanessa huffs a surprised laugh before settling on the edge of his bed. She strokes his forehead, and he hums. “I won’t say I wish you’d told me before now because I’m just grateful you’re alive to tell me now. Your recovery will be lengthy. You’ll need physical therapy.”

Dean reaches for her other hand, twining their fingers together and waiting for her to meet his gaze. “OK.”

“I’m not your doctor, so I can’t advise you officially, but as someone who loves you, I hope you’ll stay long enough for me to help and... for us to get reacquainted.”

Dean grins, realizing just how bone tired he truly is. He yawns through his grin and tugs her close. 

Vanessa dips in to press a kiss to his forehead, each cheek, and his lips. “Please stay,” she whispers.

Dean tilts his chin and meets her lips again, brushing back and forth. “OK, kitten. You got me. As long as you want me.”

When Sam returns to Dean’s room, he finds Vanessa curled around him, keeping him safe and warm. She and Dean are both fast asleep, smiling and breathing steadily.

Sam leaves the macaroni and cheese on a tray and backs away to leave them in peace.

Series master list | Dean Winchester Masterlist | SPN Masterlist | All Fic Masterlist

#dean winchester x original female character #dean winchester x ofc #spn finale rewrite #spn finale

[navybrat817]

April Reading List

Hey, lovelies! I haven't had much time to read and will add more as I can, but here are the fics I had the pleasure of reading and reblogging throughout the month of April. Please show these writers some love and heed the warnings for each fic. Remember, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Banner by yours truly and divider by the talented @saradika .

If any writer does not wish to be included in this list, please let me know.

Love, thanks, and happy reading!

Bucky Barnes x Reader

What's Up, Buck? by @late-to-the-party-81

Hope is a Dangerous Thing For a Woman Like Me to Have by @buckets-and-trees

Bandaged with Love by @jobean12-blog

SALT by @buckets-and-trees

Triage by @writing-for-marvel

Hello, Neighbor by @sunshine-on-my-mind

Burning Desperation by @rookthorne

Take Some More by @slyyywriting

Passionate Negotiations by @targaryenvampireslayer

I Wanna Be Yours by @buckycuddlebuddy

Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers

Pound the Alarm by @rookthorne

Other Sebastian Stan Characters

God the Bounty Hunter x Reader

Call Out to Me by @mickeyhenrys

Lee Bodecker x Reader

Dead End by @shadeysprings

Steve Rogers x Reader

Rewritten by @intrepidacious

Other Chris Evans Characters

Ari Levinson x Reader

Stoned Sex by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Bad Moon Alphas by @biteofcherry

After Hours by @flordeamatista

Curtis Everett x Reader

Within the Shadows by @shadeysprings

Jake Jensen x Reader

Husband Material by @thornsnvultures

Miscellaneous Characters

Blind Dates and Secrets by @alicewonderao3 (Dean Winchester x OFC)

Through the Eye by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor (John Wick x Reader)

Trapped by @ironlady1993 (Tony Stark x Reader)

March ⚓ February ⚓ January

#navy's fic recs #reading list #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #lee bodecker x reader #god the bounty hunter x reader #curtis everett x reader #ari levinson x reader #jake jensen x reader #john wick x reader #dean winchester x ofc #tony stark x reader #show writers some love

[deans-queen]

Wildest​ Dreams 🩵

Main Characters: Dean Winchester x Aria ( Original Character )

Additional Characters: Hanna (Aria’s Best Friend)

Plot: Aria is out at a club with her friends and she meets a mysterious handsome stranger (Dean). (Again this story will mostly be in Aria’s P.O.V) (You can even imagine you the reader as Aria if you want)

Warnings: SMUT, p in v (wrap it up kids), mature and sexual language, alcohol. *18+ Readers ONLY please!*

I’m not good at writing smut but I promise I’m working on it !

Inspired by the song: “Wildest Dreams (Taylor's Version)” by Taylor Swift

Blue text: song lyrics

Aria’s P.O.V

It was Saturday night and I'm out with a group of friends. This week had been super stressful and I needed to unwind. So I decided to have a GNO (girls night out). I was wearing short black dress that hit all my curves right with high heeled pumps. My long dark brown hair was in soft curls that looked like waves and my makeup was on point completed with my favorite red lipstick. I looked hot and I felt it too! We went to this local club and we were downing shots like water. My friends and I were having a blast dancing when suddenly my friend Hanna whispered in my ear “Oh my god, this guy is totally checking you out.”

“Really? Who is he?” I said.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, “and I dunno but he’s totally hot!”

I casually looked behind me and I saw him

He smiled & winked at me.

Damn, he is hot!

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad but he does it so well

He was tall, muscular (not like a body builder but his body was toned) and had short brown hair.

He had a jawline so sharp and perfect that it could cut you in half.

And to top it off….he had the most amazing smile and GORGEOUS emerald green eyes.

This man was certainly a damn dream.

“You should talk to him Aria.” Hanna said as she elbowed me.

“No way! He’s so out of my league.”

“Come on Aria! He’s handsome as hell. How many other chances are you gonna get?”

“Seriously Han, what would I even say to him? I’m too worried about embarrassing myself.”

Hanna looked over my shoulder and casually pointed his way.

“You better think of something because he’s walking this way.”

I turned around and gasped.

Omg….Omg…. I thought

What do I do? What do I say?

What if I say something stupid?

I gathered my thoughts as this handsome stranger walked towards me.

“Hi.” He said with confidence. He reached out his hand to me and I shook it. His hands were a bit rough but strong at the same time.

“Hi.” I said in a nervous voice shaking his hand.

My heart was pounding in my chest hearing its beat in my ears.

“I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are.” His eyes were looking me up and down. “And I was wondering if I could buy you a drink?”

I looked back at Hanna and she nodded in approval.

“Sure.” I said coyly, I was trying to play hard to get. Pretending to be unimpressed with his good looks and charm. It was hard to do that.

He lead me to the bar and we ordered our drinks. He ordered another beer and I ordered a cocktail.

“Soooo…” he said while looking at me and taking a sip of his beer.

“I offer to buy you a drink and I didn’t even bother to ask your name.”

I looked at him shyly. “Aria, I’m Aria.”

“That’s a very unique name. I’m Dean, Dean Winchester.” He gave me a sexy smile, I couldn’t help but blush.

It wasn’t fair, I had just met this man not even 5 minutes ago and I’m already attracted to him. I was under his spell, I didn’t wanna get out of it.

I knew how this night was going to end.

I can see the end as it begins

My one condition is

The next thing I knew we were making out in the backseat of his Chevy Impala.

He said “No one has to know what we do…”

His hands were tangled up in my hair, as my arms wrapped around his neck.

But this is getting good now…

The kiss was passionate and hot. His lips made his way down my neck and jawline. While his hands ran down my back to cup my ass. He then proceeded to run a hand along my thigh to push up the bottom of my dress, exposing my bare skin.

“Dean.” I said breathlessly moaning

“Mmmmm you smell so good baby. Like vanilla and coconut.”

“And you smell like whisky and cologne.” I said under my breath.

“That sounds about right.” He said winking at me.

His hands made is way to the back of my dress to unzip it. I pushed it down and removed it from my body. His eyes grew wide as he saw me in my lingerie. I was wearing a black and red lacy bra that had a rose in the middle with a matching thong.

“Your body is so perfect, Aria.” He said as he looked me up and down, biting his lip.

I reached down to tug on his shirt and removed it. My eyes began to wonder at his chest, muscular arms and perfect abs. He also had a very unique tattoo on his chest.

Was this man carved by a Greek god or something?

“Says you.” I said cheekily while kissing him back again.

It was very bold of me to be making out with a stranger in his car, but I couldn’t help myself. I was totally admired of him. He was like a drug you were addicted to. And I needed every dose of him. I didn’t want him to be another one night stand….someone I would never see again.

I tried to make this night last forever

“Dean….please fuck me. I want you so bad.”

He looked at me grinning like a devil and said “Your wish is my command sweetheart.”

He unbuckled the belt on his jeans taking them off quickly and removed his boxers. My eyes grew wide at the sight of his member. He was thick and huge. I laid down on the seat and he crawled on top of me. He wasted no time lining up with my entrance and putting himself inside me. (With protection of course)

"Oh fuck....you feel so good." I said breathlessly.

“Mmmm so you do you baby. Your pussy is so tight for me.” He moaned.

He thrusted in me faster and faster, I sat up a little bit and put his forehead against mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist pushing him more into me. I gripped my hands along his back, digging my nails into his skin. He moaned while I clawed my nails into him leaving scratch marks.

"God baby, i'm so close. Are you close for me?" He said

"Yes, Dean. I wanna come for you!"

"Come in me, I wanna feel your juices around my cock.”

"Ahhhhhhh fuck." I screamed

I exploded inside him, that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.

We both looked at each other and breathed heavily.

“Dean?” I said while still breathing heavily.

“Yeah baby?” His green eyes looking in mine.

“Please say you’ll remember me after tonight? I don’t want to be just another hook up…”

Say you’ll remember me

Standin’ in a nice dress

Starin’ at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you’ll see me again even if it’s just in your

Wildest Dreams

“Of course I’ll remember you Aria. I definitely wanna see you again.”

I smiled at him and kissed him again.

All while embracing the best night I’ve had in a long time.

Authors Note:

Hope you enjoyed this story!

Feel free to let me know what you think! 

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Check out my other stories! 

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[imagines-all-day-everyday]

A Hunting Trip (Part 3)

pairing: dean winchester x reader x damon salvatore

synopsis: a spiked punch - damon finds *yn* after the incident at the boarding house and dots finally start to connect. *yn* and damon share a moment & reminisce on their first memories. dean makes amends.

warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, violence, just vampires being vampires man

notes: the series is gonna start ramping up now... strap in ;)

Series Masterlist

Leaves crunched under *yn*'s sneakers as she trailed through the woods. Her phone pressed to her ear as it rung, silently begging for Sam to answer.

"*yn* I-"

"-listen Sam, Dean's safe." She cut him off before he barely got a word out. She could hear the sigh of relief echo through the speakers.

"Where is he? I need to come get him-"

"-I don't think that's a good idea." She said quickly.

There was a pause before, "I thought you said he was safe?"

"He is. Sort of. I've got it under control, I promise. Just get back to the motel and I'll ring you when I've got Dean out and I'll explain everything."

"Got Dean out? *yn* what the hell is going on?" Sam demanded. *yn* silently cursed, glancing over her shoulder at the sound of a twig cracking. She paused, surveying her surroundings before turning her attention back to the younger Winchester.

"I can't explain right now, just trust me. Please. If you come back here it's just going to make things a thousand times worse."

Another pause as Sam contemplated. *yn* held her breath as he let out a defeated sigh, "fine. But if I don't hear from either of you in an hour I'm coming back, got it?"

"Got it. Thanks Sam, be careful."

With that *yn* hung up, sliding her phone back into her pocket as she continued her march through the woods. After what felt like an eternity she finally slowed her determined pace as she reached a large oak tree.

Her mind was racing at what felt like a million miles per hour as she pressed her back to the trunk of the tree and slid down until she was seated on the bed of leaves.

"The man's probably rolling in his grave right now. It's like he died for goddamn nothing." Dean's words echoed in her head as she hugged her knees to her chest and stared into the woods blankly.

She tried to slow her mind, to focus on the little bird that was pecking absentmindedly at the ground in front of her instead. But it was impossible, her brain was jumping from one thought to the next, trying to process everything that happened over the past 12 hours so quickly she could barely keep up.

"Haven't you heard it's dangerous to be out in these woods by yourself?"

The voice snapped her out of her trance like state and the bird that had edged closer took off in a flurry of feathers.

"What with all those animal attacks lately." She could hear the leaves crunching under Damon's boots as he approached. She didn't answer him, instead resting her chin on the top of her knees as she hugged herself tighter.

"Good start." Damon mumbled under his breath as he studied her rigid form.

She looked out of her peripheral to see him taking a seat beside her, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

"I know you said you wanted to be alone." Their arms brushed as he leant back against the tree.

"So you do listen to me." Her dry response made a half smile twitch up onto Damon's lips.

"Don't get used to it."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Her quip made him turn to face her, studying her features as he tried to get a read on her. When he couldn't, he cast his gaze down to his lap.

"I always wondered why you weren't that afraid of me. But now I know you were a baby hunter it all makes sense."

"Don't underestimate how much the leather jacket drags down your scary score." A huff of laughter escaped Damon's lips at her words as he turned back to her.

"The extra points it adds to my sexy score makes up for it." He jerked his brows up and shot her a flirty grin as she finally looked over at him. Despite her mood, *yn* couldn't fight the small smile that twitched up onto her lips.

She couldn't disagree with him on that point.

He didn't need to know that.

"When dad would tell me what sort of monsters were out there, you were so not what I had in mind."

"Much more charming? alluring? witty?" This time she let out a breathy laugh.

"I was going to say more annoying, but sure."

"I'm touched." He placed his hand over his heart. He let his eyes glide over her for a few moments before speaking once more.

"So.. when you said you put safety measures in place... what are we talking?" His question illicited a shrug.

"Holy water in the town water supply, party punches, in anything I can to be honest." She answered him after a few moments.

"To prevent demon possession." She added when she saw Damon's confused expression.

He nodded slowly as he digested her words, "naturally."

"So that night we first met you were actually...?"

"Yep."

"Right..." He trailed off, raising his brows in amusement. Who'd have thought holy water actually did anything. He'd always just thought it was ironic. A good source of amusement.

"So the town's drinking water is spiked with vervain and holy water."

"And I've carved devil's traps all around town too. In all our friend's houses, the school, Mystic Grill. They trap demons once they step into it."

A "Huh" left Damon's mouth after a few moments of silence.

"So demons are your ultimate concern?"

Memories flashed before *yn*. The screams, the blood, the maniacal laughter.

"They're insidious little bastards. One of the easiest to flush out though. Luckily we haven't had to deal with one."

She flinched as the memories of all of the hunting trips her dad had dragged her on resurfaced.

"Or something worse."

Damon had a million questions he wanted to ask her. One look at the pained expression on her features told him that it would have to wait.

"Stefan took off the second he woke up." He began after the pair stewed in silence for a few moments.

"Bon Bon and Elena have gone to talk to mother witchy. Caroline's gone to go help Tyler out with his little siring issue and Donavan... well I've got no clue where Donovan is... probably somewhere annoying someone."

"and Dean?"

Damon knew she would ask but it didn't stop the jealousy that sparked through him at the sound of the name. Part of him wished he had just told her so he didn't have to hear her say it. So he didn't have to hear the level of concern in her tone that she was so clearly trying to conceal.

"Don't worry, your other bloodsucker friends made sure he got down to the cells safely." Damon didn't bother hiding the venom in his words. His face was taught, the jealousy making his muscles strain. It was enough to make *yn* stiffen up beside him.

"We can keep him down there for a while but- hey!" *yn* was up and onto her feet before Damon could finish his sentence. He cursed under his breath, his shouts going ignored as *yn* started off in the direction of the boarding house.

"And where do you think you're going?"

*yn* rolled her eyes as Damon was in front of her in a split second, stopping her in her tracks.

"We can't leave him in those cells. He's not a prisoner, Damon."

"Well he did kind of threaten to kill us all... I think that justifies detainment, don't you?"

Damon let out a defeated sigh when his attempt to lighten the mood was met with a sour expression.

"Look I'm sorry about what happened before, but we can't have hunters running around Mystic Falls. We've got enough problems as it is."

"I know." *yn* conceded. "That's why I want to talk to him. To both of them. To convince them to leave town."

Her words made Damon raise a brow, "you really think that's gonna work?"

*yn* sighed and shrugged, "maybe?"

"I don't know." She confessed as Damon shot her a skeptical look. "Maybe if I explain to them what's going on they'll realise they're in over their heads. They're looking for their dad anyway, they might move on and focus on that."

"*yn*, I know I don't know the guy, but your pretty boy friend doesn't really seem like the type to just walk away."

Damon was right. Of course he was right. *yn* knew that there was no way in hell Dean Winchester was just going to throw in the towel and let a bunch of vampires run around a town unchecked. But she had to at least give it a try.

"Just let me try Damon. Please." He was wavering just from one imploring look from her. He really needed to work on getting back his spine. Back to who he was when he first arrived back in Mystic Falls. But who was he kidding, he'd had a soft spot for her the second he'd laid eyes on her.

He let out a defeated sigh, "and if it doesn't work?"

"You can compel them to forget everything they saw here and make them leave town for good." She responded without even skipping a beat.

Damon's eyes narrowed at her answer as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. Her doe eyes were even wider than usual as she looked up at him imploringly. He swore that she was even blinking slower on purpose. She was getting a little too good at bargaining for his liking. She was also getting a little too good at manipulating him.

"You've been hanging around me for too long." A small smile appeared on her lips at the sound of his relenting. "But fine, you get until the end of the day to get them out of here willingly and not a moment more."

"Thank you."

"Ah ah ah-" She had only taken a few steps and he was in front of her once more.

"This conversation is so not over missy."

"What else is there to say?" Her question came out more harsh than she intended. But she knew that Sam would be counting down the minutes until an hour had passed and would be on her if she wasn't on her way with Dean. That he'd get in his car and kick down the door to find Dean. Then things would really go to shit.

Something changed in Damon's eyes at her words. The mood shifting as his jaw set and his gaze hardened.

"What else is there to say?" He repeated. *yn* knew instantly that she'd said the wrong thing.

"Damon-"

"I don't know, maybe talking about the fact that your last name isn't even really your last name, that I don't really know anything about you, that you lied to me about everything?"

"I wanted a fresh start when I got here, I wanted to forget about what my life was like when I was a hunter." She defended herself, standing her ground as he glowered down at her.

"And then when I realised what was going on here, do you really think I was going to run around telling everyone I was a hunter?"

"I'm not talking about everyone *yn*, I'm talking about me. You lied to me." His eyes were like blue flames, burning wild with anguish as he took a few steps towards her.

She scoffed as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Do you remember what you were like when you first arrived here? All you cared about was getting Katherine out of that damn tomb. You would have killed me the second you found out."

Her words were designed to hurt, and they found their mark perfectly. She could see the pain dance on his features as her weapon embedded into him, twisting in right where it hurt.

"That was then. This is now. That was before I-" He cut himself off as he stared down at her. His tongue darted over his lips as his jaw clenched.

*yn* felt her heart hammer in her chest as she studied him. She could have sworn his eyes darted down to her lips for a split second before they locked with hers once more.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" His tone was soft this time. Less angry, more hurt. More desperate.

Her lips parted but no words came out as she looked up at him. His eyes were searching hers, desperately trying to find an answer to his own question.

"I don't know." She finally admitted quietly.

She could see him shutting down immediately. That stone cold look that crossed his face was one she was all too familiar with. The one when he was hurt and wanted to lash out.

"Damon wait-" Her hand encircled his wrist before he could storm off.

"I was scared to tell you because I was worried you would react like this." She explained as he swung around to glare at her. "Please." She lowered her tone -

"don't."

He knew what she was really asking. What she was begging. But she didn't want to say it out loud. Don't go and hurt someone because you're upset at me. Which was exactly what his first instinct was.

To lash out and go find some poor innocent schmuck and sink his fangs into their artery. To drink until he was drunk and delirious off their blood. Until he could barely even remember why he was upset.

To forget that the girl he was in love with had just admitted that she might have lied to him for the rest of her life.

"Don't ask me to do something you know I can't do *yn*." He spat back. She took a step towards him.

"I'm the bad guy remember?" He sneered, the veins under his eyes rippling under the surface to prove his point.

"You and I both know that's not true Damon." Her tone was soft, soothing. Another step closer. She still hadn't let go of his wrist.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Her words were eroding away his murderous anger. His breathing slowing as he watched her bring a hand up to gently trace the veins under his eyes.

"I would never hurt you."

"I know." She nodded.

She could feel her heart beating against her ribcage as she finally released his wrist and dropped her hands to her side.

"After this is all over I'll tell you everything."

"Is that a promise?" His tone was teasing as one side of his lips twitched up into a smirk.

She knew that he was lightening the mood for her benefit, to show that he wasn't going to go and take out his anger on something - or someone.

"Yeah."

This time she knew it wasn't her mind playing tricks on her, because Damon's eyes lingered on her lips for what felt like an eternity. She swallowed as his eyes dragged up to meet hers. Had he been standing this close the whole time?

"It's a promise." She whispered back, nodding her head. This time it was her turn to glance down at his lips as she spoke.

*yn* could have sworn Damon started leaning in when the tinny voice of Taylor Swift erupted from her jean pocket.

"Uh-" *yn* took a step back from Damon as she hurriedly fished her phone out.

She cursed under her breath when she saw the contact name flashing on the screen. She shot him an apologetic before pressing the phone to her ear.

can't you see that I'm the one who understands you- Taylor was cut short as she accepted the call.

"Sam, hey listen-" Damon rolled his eyes.

"Where the hell are you guys? It's been over an hour *yn*."

"I know I'm sorry I- we got caught up." She avoided Damon's unimpressed gaze as she ran a hand through her hair.

"Look we're on our way. I can meet you at mine in twenty minutes, I'll text you the address. Ok?"

There was a pause on the other line as Sam deliberated her words. "Fine, yeah ok. I'll be there."

She let out a relieved sigh as she hung up.

"Your house in twenty minutes huh?" Damon queried as he watched her type in her address.

"You said you'd give me till the end of the day. You didn't say he had to stay locked up." She countered as she shut her phone and slid it into her back pocket.

"Hm." Damon hummed as he studied her, "have you always been this slippery?"

"I learnt from the best." She shot him a sarcastic grin before heading off back towards the house.

"Like I said, you've been hanging around me too long."

It was as if that moment that had just transpired between them had been a figment of her imagination as the pair walked alongside each other. They were right back to how they usually were around each other. Sarcastic, mean, slightly flirty.

Platonic.

Maybe she really had imagined it, maybe he hadn't been leaning in like he was about to kiss her.

"The keys are just outside the cell door." Damon told her once they were standing in the entrance of the boarding house.

"You're not staying?" *yn* watched as Damon shrugged on one of his leather jackets.

"Negative, gotta check out Ric's lady doctor friend." His answer made her raise a brow.

"Does Ric know?"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, I'm doing him favour, what if he's got a good old bunny boiler on his hands?" He shrugged innocently, his eyes shining with amusement.

"Mmhmm, I'm sure he'll definitely see it that way."

"Your confidence in me is touching, truly." He placed a hand over his heart which made her roll his eyes.

"Just try not to do anything too stupid." Was all she answered with as she began to head down towards the basement.

"Did you really carve those devil trap thingies in everyone's houses?" Damon called out just as she reached the cellar door.

Her fingers floated just above the handle as he spoke. A smirk was painted on her face as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

"Look under your rug." Her eyes flickering down to the rug placed at the front door.

His brow furrowed in confusion as she disappeared down the stairs. He glanced down at the rug beneath his feet. There was no way. Surely he would have noticed.

He stepped off the rug and crouched down, yanking it back in one sweep of his arm.

"Huh." He blinked a few times and pursed his lips as he stared down at the timber.

A huge circle with a pentagram sort of shape inside it was indeed carved into the wood. Intricate symbols and words he didn't recognise littered throughout.

"Well that's new."

The Woods - Mystic Falls, 1 Year Ago

*yn* weaved her way through the throng of teenagers that were gathered around the bonfire. She watched as two girls in her class made their way towards the main gathering, red cups filled with punch in hand. Away from the source. She stepped over a couple making out on the ground as her hands found the flask.

*yn* cursed under her breath as she heard her name being called over the raucous laughter and chatter. She slid the flask back inside the pocket of her jacket before turning around to face Caroline.

"Where the hell have you been? "

"Sorry I uh- someone was really wasted so I was just making sure they were ok." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

"Well come on, we're going to play truth or dare."

"I'll be there in a second."

Caroline rolled her eyes, "whatever I'm going to see if I can find Matt."

*yn*'s brow furrowed, "I thought you were with that Damon guy?"

"Ew *yn* no he's a jerk." Caroline's face screwed up in disgust. "Ugh god does anyone ever listen to me?" She threw her arms up dramatically as she stormed off, disappearing into the crowd.

"Sorry Care!" *yn* called out, but her apology was swallowed up by the pulsing music and shouts.

She sighed and turned around to find the beverage table but was stopped by a firm chest.

"Was hoping I'd see you tonight, Young." *yn* resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she looked up at Tyler Lockwood.

"Wish I could express the same sentiment, Lockwood."

"C'mon Young." His hand gripped her wrist stopping her in her tracks before she could move past him. "Let loose with me."

"Hm, hard pass." She yanked her arm out of his grasp. "But thanks." She shot him an emotionless smile before turning on her heel.

"Bitch." Tyler mumbled under his breath.

"Nice one Ty."

Tyler rolled his eyes as Matt appeared beside him, drinking deeply from his cup.

"Whatever man, I'm going to find Vicky."

*yn* glanced over her shoulder as she slipped out of the clearing and into the woods. The music and voices faded quickly, masked by the dense trees that now enveloped her.

She wasn't very far from the party, but the darkness and silence that surrounded her made her feel strangely isolated. She quickly approached the table that was home to the punch bowl and the beer keg, glancing over her shoulder one last time before leaning over it and pulling out the flask.

"I don't think we've met before."

The unfamiliar voice made her stiffen. She rose up, swallowing down her nerves as she stuffed the flask back into her jacket pocket and turned around.

Piercing green eyes shaped by jet black hair and a stomach-churning smirk stared back at her. She knew who he was instantly. A chill ran up her spine as he took a step closer to her.

He cocked his head as he studied her intently. *yn* straightened up, determined to mask any fear she had as she stared back at him.

"Wow how have I managed to survive until this moment." His smirk widened at her sarcastic tone.

He liked a challenge.

"I'm Damon." He mirrored her steps, blocking her path back to the safety of the group.

"I know."

"Ah so you've heard of me." He wriggled his brows as he grinned down at her.

"I've heard about how much of jerk you've been to Caroline, to Elena, to your brother. Actually, to pretty much everyone in town. So yeah, I'd say your reputation proceeds you."

"Well Caroline's always been a little bit-" His finger twirled in circles next to his ear.

"And I mean my baby brother come on, with that hero hair of his? He was born a drama queen."

She let out a huff as he once again stopped her from getting around him.

"Hold on a minute.." Damon held up his hands, "Caroline has told me about all of her little friends..." He trailed off as he studied her for a few moments. His eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers as he pointed at her.

"You must be *yn* Young." He grinned, "am I right?"

"Ding ding ding we have a winner folks, head to the exit to collect your prize." She drawled, a roll of her eyes as she tried one more time to get around him.

"Caroline did tell me you were quite the sarcastic one."

"How sweet of her."

He let out a hum of acknowledgment at her words as his eyes raked up and down her body.

"What are you doing with that flask?"

His question caught her off guard, she thought she'd hidden it before he could catch a glimpse of it.

"You know I'm all for a good time but spiking the punch bowl?" He let out a low whistle. "That's pretty twisted, even for me."

*yn* gritted her teeth, not saying anything as she glared at him.

"Hand it over."

A roll of his eyes and a huff as she stayed still. "I can hear the liquid swishing against your rib, come on." He extended his palm out.

She remained composed as she slowly reached into her hidden inner jacket pocket and pulled out the small flask. She watched as he snatched it from her and twisted open the cap.

"This isn't alcohol." He stated as he sniffed it hesitantly.

"What the hell is this?"

"Water." She answered him.

"Don't lie to me." He gripped her shoulder as his eyes bore into hers. "What is in the flask?"

This is what Elena had told her about. The compulsion. At least she knew that the vervain worked because she could feel her lips beginning to form the words 'fuck off'. She clamped her mouth shut before she could say them.

There was no point in antagonising him further. He was still a vampire who could rip her head from her shoulders before she even had a chance to blink. She could just tell him a sanitised version of the truth.

"Holy water." She answered him.

A chuckle escaped his lips at her words. "Holy water? I'm sorry sweetheart but I don't think even holy water could purify these teenagers."

His laughter faded as he studied her, his brow furrowing as he glanced at the flask and then back at her.

"Why?"

"To protect against monsters, like demons."

Her answer seemed to actually take him by surprise, a brow jerking up at her words. His shock was quick to vanish, replaced by an amused expression.

"I hate to break it to you but-"

She tensed up as she watched him tilt the flask upside down, letting the liquid poor all over the ground.

"-holy water won't do you much good." He tossed the empty flask to the ground.

"- especially around here, I mean with all these animal attacks lately, who knows what's prowling out around here."

*yn* swallowed as the atmosphere changed. The way his eyes darkened didn't go unnoticed by her either. She felt a chill run up her spin as his tongue darted out, running along his top lip. The whites of his teeth flashed back at her.

He took a step towards her. Like he was stalking his prey.

"Lucky I'm not alone then, right?"

He snickered, "Not so lucky I'm afraid."

Her heart pounded as she watched his face morph into that of a monsters right before her eyes.

"I wouldn't." Her calm tone even took herself by surprise. "I've been drinking vervain, wouldn't taste very nice I'm afraid."

He took a step back in surprise, his jaw falling open slightly revealing the two fangs that were now protruding from his gums. He hadn't considered that she might know what he was.

"Well, that is a shame." An animalistic grin twisted up onto his lips.

"I'm sure you would taste divine."

"Shame you'll never find out." She felt queasy at his words, watching as he licked his lips as he studied her.

"Drinking vervain doesn't stop me from ripping your heart out of your chest."

"Your right, it doesn't." She nodded, taking a step towards him as she squared her shoulders.

"But you see, I've collected all of this evidence about you and your brother that's sitting in an email scheduled to be sent to the Founder's Council."

Damon faltered at her words, emboldening her further.

"And if I'm dead, well." She paused as she cocked her head slightly. "There'll be no one to stop that email from being sent by the end of the evening."

Her words made his eyes narrow, watching as a taunting smirk twisted up onto her lips. "And you can kiss the dream of getting Katherine out of that tomb goodbye."

"How do you-"

"*yn*!" Damon turned around to see Elena and Stefan hurrying towards them.

"Are you ok?" Elena asked as she glanced between the pair.

"Yeah Elena, I'm fine." *yn* nodded as she turned her attention back to Damon who was staring at her with an unreadable expression on his features.

"Was just getting to know Damon a little bit better, right Damon?"

A tight lipped smile appeared on Damon's face as he stared back at her.

"Right."

Mystic Falls, Present Day

"Come on you stupid thing."

Dean paced around the cell, his cellphone held up to the ceiling. He cursed as the 'No Signal' continued to flashed back at him. Only once his arm started aching in protest did he finally admit defeat.

He froze at the sound of footsteps descending the steps. He shoved his phone into his pocket and approached the door, peering through the bars of the cell door. He pursed his lips, his face void of emotion as *yn* appeared.

"Sam's ok." She said it before Dean even had the chance to open his mouth.

The sigh of relief that Dean tried to compress bounced off the basement walls. She could feel those green eyes on her as she crossed the length of the basement to one of the storage chests.

"I thought you'd have at least tried to pick the lock." Dean watched as she opened it. He swallowed. She was wearing denim shorts that slid up her thighs as she bent down over it.

"Don't worry your friends made sure to 'compel' me to not try and escape." He answered, his eyes darting up to her face as she turned to face him.

"That is what you guys call it isn't it? The thing they do when they take away people's free will."

*yn* refused to let his jab illicit a physical response from her as she approached him, a water bottle now in hand.

Dean raised a skeptical brow as she slid the water bottle through the bars. His forehead furrowed when he saw that there was a sort of herb that he didn't recognise floating in the liquid.

"It's a herb called vervain. Vampires won't be able to compel you while it's in your system."

He hesitantly took it from her outstretched hand upon her explanation and examined the herb close up. For a split second a small voice piped up inside his head, "what if this is some sort of trick?"

He glanced up at her to see that she was observing him intently. With the exact same look that her dad used to have on his face when he was on a job. One look at her and those doubts were pushed to the side. He knew deep down he could trust her. He unscrewed the lid and pressed the bottle to his lips.

"So this is really gonna stop those vamps from screwing with my head?"

"Consider it a peace offering." She shot him a tight lipped smile as he wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand.

He screwed the lid back on and studied her for a few moments. Their last conversation was playing on an audio loop in his mind, acting as the soundtrack for the image of her anguished features.

"Listen, about what I said before-"

"- you don't need to say anything." She cut him off, waving her hand dismissively.

"I probably would have said the same thing if the roles were reversed. If two years ago you would have told me this was my life I-" She shook her head and chuckled humourlessly. "You're probably right."

"Maybe." He nodded as he leant against the bars. "Doesn't make me any less of a jerk for saying it."

He felt a smile threaten to tug on her lips as a soft laugh escaped her lips. That was the closest thing to an apology she'd probably ever get from Dean Winchester.

"I won't argue with you on that one."

"Your boyfriend know you're here?"

Her eyes rotated in their sockets at his question. "Firstly, not my boyfriend." She leant over and grabbed the key from its hook.

"You might want to tell him that." Dean muttered, earning a pointed look from *yn*.

"Secondly." She chose to ignore his comment as she slid the key into the lock. "He does."

"He must really trust you then, if he's willing to let you be alone with the enemy." His words made her hand still mid twist.

"Has it ever occurred to you that we might be on the same side?" All humour had vanished from her features.

Her question made a dry chuckle escape Dean's lips. "We hunt supernatural beings. Unless I've missed the part where vampires are suddenly considered natural-" He shook his head.

"Sweetheart we are definitely not on the same side."

She nodded slowly at his words, "you know I used to think the same thing."

She pulled the key out of the lock and examined it.

"That everything was black and white. Good and evil. Hunted or hunter. Like our dads taught us. If a thing was supernatural you just killed that son of a bitch, no questions asked." Her words were slow. Thoughtful. Calm.

"Until I moved here. Until I saw some of my closest friends turn into vampires. Into werewolves. And afterwards they still cried, still laughed, still loved." Her voice was wavering slightly now as all the events from the past year washed over her like a tidal wave.

Dean was staring at her intensely, clinging onto every word like it was a cliff's edge.

"They're still human, at the core of their being. In their soul. And it made me realise that maybe there is a grey area in all of this. That not all supernatural creatures are monsters. In fact from my experience, some of the most terrifying monsters I've met-"

The key was sliding back into the lock now.

"Are human."

The door swung open, the barrier between them vanishing. A few moments passed as they stared at each other. *yn* stepped to the side to indicate he could leave the cell.

"Jesus." Dean finally spoke, clearing his throat as he stepped over the threshold. "You sound exactly like Sammy."

His words were light, sarcastic. Deflective. Like it always was when he was faced with an uncomfortable conversation. He'd been the same at 18.

But she could tell by the way his eyes lingered on her that her words had had an effect on him.

"I knew there was a reason he's always been my favourite." Her tone teasing as she hung the key back onto the hook.

The tension and angst that had hung over them only moments ago had cleared now much to both their relief.

It was strange to *yn*, how she could jump so easily, so comfortably, from something so angsty to so light. It was the same with Damon.

"C'mon sweetheart it isn't nice to lie."

He was smirking now as she brushed past him. She paused as she reached the bottom of the stairs "I never said I was nice."

Dean's brows raised as she shot him a wink before starting the ascension.

He let out a breath as he watched her.

"Come on!" Her words jolted Dean into action as he hurried after her.

"Where are we going exactly?" He asked as he followed her up the stairs and towards the foyer.

"My house, Sam's waiting for us." *yn* answered as she neared the door. Dean's eyes fell on the rug in the entrance way.

"To have that catch up, you know the one that we were supposed to have today before you guys took it upon yourselves to ignore me and get caught."

Dean was only half listening as his attention slid to the wooden slats that were no longer obscured.

"Did you do this?"

*yn*'s eyes followed his, "that one and about thirty others around town."

At her answer, his eyes traced the engraving, soaking in the intricate symbols that were carved to near perfection.

A grin spread across her lips as he lifted his head to look up at her. Words weren't needed to convey his awe. He was impressed. Almost jealous even. He'd been carving these things a lot longer than she had.

"C'mon Winchester, don't act so surprised." She pulled open the front door before glancing over her shoulder.

"You can never really leave the job. Even if you try and convince yourself you can. You and I both know that."

Dean watched as she disappeared out the door. His eyes fell to the carving once more as he shook his head.

Yeah, he was in trouble.

Part 4

I have the next few parts planned out and I am so excited heheheh, hope everyone is still enjoying it <333 As always, feedback would be super super appreciated and you can give it back HERE!

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[bellamybellamyblake]

When the Sun Sets - Part 3

In-Between

Characters:

morgan winchester (OC), sam winchester, dean winchester, alastair

Summary:

the winchesters after the death of the middle child. oh, and hell.

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, vague mention of not eating for a while, slightly suicidal ideation, SPN typical alcohol abuse, spoiler warning up to the end of season 8, following canon stops after the end of season 2, but things are definitely going to be mentioned.

Word Count:

2.1k ~ roughly

A/N:

ahhh this one, i love this one. trigger warning for torture. POV switches a few times.

italics = flashback.

dean: 28, morgan: 27, sam: 24

It was all too much.

"I'm not gonna let you go to Hell, Mo!" Sam, the middle Winchester, said as his tears betrayed him.

Morgan wouldn't let them save her. She didn't even let them try. After what felt like a lifetime of them protecting her, she wouldn't accept any more of it. Sam and Dean Winchester used every outlet, read every book they could find twice and called every hunter they knew to find some way to get her out of this with no luck. Their last ditch effort, was doomed to end just end the way they dreaded the most; with the middle child being scratched and ripped to shreds by hellhounds.

She made a deal with the devil. Now her fate was sealed.

“Yes, you are.”

One shot.

The old grandfather clock struck midnight and marked the close of a year, bringing the siblings to silence. It was an earthquake confined to the small room and Dean wasn't positive, but he thought he could see the sound waves as they pulsed and thumped. He could feel them in his bones, leaving them shattered in their wake. He felt his stomach rise up to his throat at the pang. He couldn't control the way his heart started to pound, like it would explode out of his chest.

The demon was next to his sister, and expressed her sympathies, but Morgan couldn't peel her eyelids up to look at her. Eyes the color of the sky had filled with tears, sticking to her lashes. He knew that if she blinked, they'd fall, and the fallacy she'd created - that this case was just a run-of-the-mill salt and burn - would be destroyed.

Then, when she flinched without warning, he knew she was hearing them. Fatal and hungry. Her voice broke through the tauntingly ominous quiet, and somehow it's worse than the damn clock.

“Hellhounds.”

Another one.

Morgan's voice was familiar to her brothers, but it was deeper than usual. Full of gravel, and it lacked the authority it usually held. It was hollow and horse and full of fear, something Sam and Dean didn't want to hear from their sister again. Sam's face was nearly a replica when he spoke, asking how she could hear it, and where it was coming from.

Then they were running. Doing everything they could to get her away from the dogs that wanted to pull her soul from her body piece by piece, atom by atom, back to Hell with them for eternal damnation. They made it into a small office, Sam, Ruby and Morgan holding the door shut, keeping the hounds out while Dean put a barrier line on the floor and windows so they couldn't get in right away. It was a futile effort, maybe it would buy them a few seconds, but it wasn't fucking enough.

The bourbon slid down his throat, smooth and warm, a burn that matched the sting in his eyes. The tears threatened to fall as he let out a shaky exhale and tried to breathe past the tightening in his throat. No matter what he did, no matter how much he drank, nothing would free him from the memory. He knew it wasn't going away, but he was determined to keep at it until he couldn't remember his sister's name anymore.

Morgan's screams echoed through their ears, pulsing and tearing at them again and again until it hurts their own vocal cords. They stared, not making a sound, just watching their sister get torn apart until she couldn't breathe. Until they couldn't breathe. Dean thought that, maybe in some corner of reality, Sam was saying something but his pleas continue to go ignored. Dean could only sit with his knees to the floor - and not just because Lilith wasn't letting him move.

Her blood was everywhere; the floor, the walls, some on his legs. The clatter of a knife hitting the floor went unnoticed. The youngest Winchester's cries as he held the motionless body didn't exist.

There was nothing except the ringing in Dean's ears.

There was nothing but a body that was getting cold and he couldn't tell if it was Morgan's or his.

Who the hell cares how long ago it was? There were some things time couldn't heal. And even Dean couldn’t deny that the past was harder to deal with when the sun sets.

The bartender gave him an incredulous gaze as he motioned for more, it was a look that told him he was probably close to finishing the bottle. A look he had been getting a lot lately. He wanted to retort rudely but even the alcohol couldn't weaken his exceptional ability to keep his mouth shut.

A brush of red hair suddenly entered his peripheral vision. He turned to see a woman, probably twenty-nine or thirty, definitely not much older or younger than him. She wore a sleeveless red flannel tied up at her ribs, denim shorts with the pockets sticking out at the front that barely left anything to the imagination, a light brown cowboy hat with matching boots and a belt. Practically every other redneck chick ever, Dean thought, but I'm not complaining.

Dean sat a bit confused for a moment when the girl didn't say anything. She just stood there, right next to him, too close - in an under-crowded bar no less - to pretend she didn't have any intentions. He guessed that the blonde was trying to put together a coherent pick-up line before she spoke. When she finally decided to talk, her words were kind of slurred together and very accented, but not too much where the eldest Winchester was worried about taking advantage. If anything, he rationalized, I'm drunker. He practically grew up drinking, given his family, and learned how to handle booze early on.

"What's a guy like you doin' in a place like this?"

"It took you two 'n a half minutes to come up with that? What are you? A guy?"

"Hey," She chuckled. "Gimme a break, been drinkin' a bit."

Dean eyed her up and down a second time, making it blatantly obvious he was checking her out. He hummed and nodded, silently giving the girl his approval. "Clearly."

The woman wasn't really clean, with dirt under her chipped finger nails that suggested she didn't ever wash her hands. There was a sheen of soot all over her exposed skin. Which there was a lot of, but again, he was not complaining. She kind of looked gross if Dean had anything to say about it. But she had a nice enough face and she was his type on paper: skinny with an ass, curly hair.

Plus, it wasn't like he hadn't gone a week without showering before. And come to think of it, that had become way less rare over the past few months.

So who was he to judge?

Sam Winchester used to give his siblings a hard time for how much they drank. But honestly? He got it now. As he had his mouth to Ruby's wrist, guzzling down her blood for the fourth time that night, he wondered why he didn't try it sooner. Well, he knew why. Because the thought of ingesting demon blood was foreign to just about everyone. It made him feel alive, helped him forget. Or it at least distracted him enough to the point where couldn't even begin to think about it. Kept his ass from bouncing off the walls when thinking about his sister or the last time he saw Dean became too much. 

He hadn't seen Dean in months, and he almost didn't want to. The two of them were so far removed from each other that by that point, he didn't know how to break the ice. He didn't know if Dean even wanted him to.

He was stuck, picturing Morgan tied up, being tortured, because of him. Because she just had to go and save him. There was nothing he could do about it anymore. There was no getting her out of Hell. He had already tried to make a deal, and he didn't even have to wonder if Dean did too. There was nothing the Winchester brothers wouldn't do for their sister. But the sheer fact that there wasn't anything left for them to try was enough to keep him locked in that fucked up cycle with Ruby.

Hook up with her, drink her blood, kill some demons, increase his skill, repeat.

What else could he do?

Morgan Winchester was dead. She didn't know exactly for how many Earth years, but in Hell time, it'd been six thousand.

The first forty years were doable, being strung up on the rack was doable. The whips, her fingernail's being torn off, the knives slowly cutting away at her. She could handle it. She could even handle the psychological torture, having her hallucinate her siblings and parents, coming in and telling her what they truly thought of her. All things she had already known, and had already believed. But it was when they upped the anti, that she started to crack. It was when demons started doing all of that and more as her family. When they stopped using tools and started using their hands, she had truly begun to break. There was another fifteen years of that.

And when she finally gave up, it had become her job to do it to someone else.

Alastair was a damn good teacher, she had to give it to him. He had been the one to torture her, and he basked in the glory of turning a Winchester into a demon. It took about three thousand more Hell years, but she finally finished the program. Two thousand tortured souls under her belt to her teacher's satisfaction.

Demons started torturing to avoid being tortured themselves. They were the result of going to Hell and having all humanity burned out of their human soul. They were dark, malicious spirits that reveled in pain, chaos and death. Ruby had told Morgan that most demons forgot what it meant to be human. Some even forget that they were humans in the first place. She had learned some demons were true believers, though, in Hell's purpose. To cleanse. And they truly believed themselves morally superior to humans.

But after another thousand years, she started having fun.

She had only wished that by the time she was down there and playing her latest game on the next soul, she could've gotten the chance to torture her father. Get her grimy hands on his skin and tear it off of him cell by cell. Then she heard Sam was down there, too, and she would've been upset, had she not known he was locked up in the cage with Lucifer. She knew she was good at her job, but compared Lucifer and Michael? Even as a demon, her ego hadn't grown that big.

And then she got to pick her own name, and all bets were off.

On Earth, Adriadne had never seen a demon's true form. Now down in the pit, where they roamed freely and carelessly, she didn't flinch at the sight of them. When her soul had started changing, becoming stickier, malleable, and black, she almost second guessed her decision to get off the rack. But at the same time, her memories of her time on Earth were starting to fade. They started twisting into her memories of being tortured - becoming one in the same.

Recently, she had heard a few more things. One; that Dean Winchester, someone she couldn't quite put her finger on, was in purgatory with an angel. Two; that Crowley was not only the king of Hell, but he was granting certain demons passage to Earth for a little joyride upstairs. Three; that he was restoring their old bodies, if in decent enough shape.

Eventually, Adriadne, no longer remembered her real name. Adriadne was who she is, was and what she would always be, for the rest of time. Where there used to be normal human eyes there was only darkness. No pupil, no cornea, no whites of the eyes; everything was just black.

She did remember there were people on Earth that used to love her, and she remembered the physical aspects to being human. Having to eat and sleep and breathe, but not much else. There was something about needing connection with another human that meant something to them, but it was lost on her.

But as she tried to remember the smallest bit about who she used to be, she realized it was pointless. Why would she try to remember when she was powerless? When she had no purpose, no duty?

She figured that maybe a trip upstairs in her original meat suit might be fun. She couldn’t find a reason not to.

Why wouldn’t she take the chance to feel the sun on her skin?

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

[miss-madness67]

Advent Calendar 2022: Day 18

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

Day 17

“How are they behaving?” Your tired voice carries to the other side of the line. It's been a long hunt, and the only thing you want to do is go back to your baby.

“They have been a true angel, you don't need to worry about it. Still, you should come back soon because they clearly miss you.” Bobby’s answer calms you, but doesn't decrease the anxiousness you feel.

Despite your marriage, the new house, and having a baby, you haven't abandoned hunting life whatsoever. It’s who you are, and you believe you can manage a balance between normality and getting rid of monsters. So far you've done a good job. It has taken to reach a compromise of not taking jobs too far away or that last too long. You've also managed to get breaks in between hunts. And obviously, the most important rule of not bringing your child on any of the jobs. It's usually Bobby or John who have to take care of the little devil. And most of the time, you're not this nervous about leaving them, but this time around the hunt had been more urgent and further away. On top of that, it had been nearly a month since your last one, you were aching to go back out.

“You coming back yet? Before the little devil wakes up for Christmas?”

You look outside the Impala, at Dean, who is filling the tank for the long drive home. “Yeah, we’ll be there before morning.” You're not the only one who's eager to see your baby again.

Day 19

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 #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

The throuple

Dean Winchester/Angel!Castiel/Female Reader

Warning: Implied Smut. Non-descriptive nudity. Established relationship. Dom/sub undertones.

She lays across their bed naked, hair still damp from her shower, resting her head on her pillow and sees her men walk in. Dean practically ogling her body while Cas has raised a questioning eyebrow followed by a smirk.

“Hello, Y/N,” Cas says.

Smirking with a quirked brow haughtily at Dean, she says, “I would ask if you’re a boob or ass man but I think Cas kind of answers that question for you. Don’tcha think?”

She looks to Cas with a small smile and same brow raised. “Though Cas, I’m curious as to your answer. Being an Angel of the Lord, it makes me curious as to your preferences. Does Dean answer that question for you as well?”

Cas rolls his eyes with nearly with his whole body at her question then stares at her with his dom brow.

Chewing her lip and looking to the bed as she wiggles a foot, an obvious display of her submission. “Sorry,” she says, quietly and sincerely.

#this literally just popped in my head #I had to write it down #dean winchester #destiel #Castiel #Deancas #casdean #Dean x Cas x Reader #spn poly #supernatural #dean x reader #Castiel x reader #spn throuple #spn triad #elle em bee #dean winchester x ofc #Dean winchester x Castiel x Reader #crack #destiel crack #spn throuple crack

[waywardxwords]

Chapter 4 - Cherry Pie (Taking Chances)

Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.

Chapter Warnings: Fluff, slight language

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

[1] [2] [3]

A quick glance at the clock on the wall made you inwardly groan–how could it only be 11:23 in the morning? Work days were known to drag on, but this was overkill. You figured it might have something to do with the fact that you were just hours away from seeing Dean again. It had taken you far too long to fall asleep the night before; you couldn’t stop thinking about that damn kiss.

The way his lips felt against yours…the way it made you feel inside…

The buzz from your cell phone distracted you and shook you from your thoughts.

Dean Hey, Atlanta.

You didn’t think you’d ever get tired of the nickname. Another buzz caught you off guard.

Dean Or should I say, Hotlanta?

The text made you laugh out loud, which would have been fine had you been alone somewhere. Instead, colleagues that you hardly knew in this new office all turned to look at you.

“Sorry about that,” you said softly as you excused yourself from the cubicle you had borrowed. You wandered to the hallway and stood there as you typed back a response.

Hi, Dean…you’re ridiculous, but that still made me laugh anyway.

You nibbled on a pesky hangnail that had formed on your thumb as you waited for his text back.

Dean I do what I can. You still up for dinner tonight?

You hurriedly typed back before you hit ‘send’ and waited for his response.

100% yes! I can leave here at 4, but I’m driving to you this time. Just send me the address and I’ll meet you there. Besides, Salina isn’t really a lively city…

It didn’t take long for your phone to vibrate against the palm of your hand. 

Dean Just wait til you see Lebanon…

Dean had sent you the name to his favorite burger joint just outside of Lebanon. As you drove through the small Kansas towns, you felt the flutter in your stomach all over again. You really couldn’t remember the last time you were this excited to spend time with someone new. It was overwhelming, almost. Before you arrived, you decided to make a pit stop and pick up a cherry pie—Dean had mentioned pie was his favorite dessert. 

Just before 7pm, you pulled into the parking lot for Jiffy Burger. It reminded you of something out of the 50s; a diner, almost. It was cute, and definitely something you could appreciate. In the dating world, not that you spent a lot of time in it due to your focus on your career, there always seemed to be this draw to fancy restaurants where you never knew what fork to use. 

Thankfully, it seemed like Dean wasn’t interested in that kind of thing. Especially since he referred to the side salad you almost ordered in Atlanta as “rabbit food”. 

As soon as you parked, you spotted the Impala. You gathered your purse and the pie you had brought, and headed inside. 

A smile stretched across Dean’s face as soon as he saw you. You didn’t miss the way his eyes traveled from your face down your chest to your legs. Heat pooled in your chest and cheeks as you suddenly felt slightly self conscious under his gaze. With your free hand, you tugged at the hem of your black blazer, but managed a smile back at him as you approached the table. 

“Hey,” you breathed as you finally reached him.

“Hey, yourself,” he smirked. He stood and with one hand, he reached behind you and pulled you closer to him. It felt exactly like you would imagine a puzzle piece would as it melded with the other. “What’s this?” His question pulled you out of your thoughts. 

You glanced down at the white grocery bag in your hand. “Oh!” You set it down on the table and opened it up to reveal the pastry you had purchased at the nearest bakery. “I know you said how much you love pie…” you gently held it up in the foil container. “I wasn’t sure which flavor you liked best, but I felt like I couldn’t go wrong with cherry.” 

He seemed truly surprised. “Damn, woman,” he breathed as his eyes grazed over the dessert. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” His words were so genuine, and he sealed it by leaning down and giving you a gentle kiss that only made you want more. 

“You’re welcome,” beaming, you felt accomplished as Dean pulled back the metal diner chair for you to sit. “This place is so cute!” You glanced around at the neon lights on the wall, red and white checkered designs and servers dressed like they had stepped out of the 50s. 

“They have the best burgers I’ve ever had,” Dean said matter-of-factly. “And trust me, I’ve tried ‘em all.” As he settled back in his chair, his eyes found the plastic grocery bag again. “I seriously can’t believe you brought me pie.”

“It can’t be that hard to believe,” you emphasized as you watched him. “I’m sure I’m not the first girl to bring you a pie…” you trailed off as you watched him contemplate. 

After a pause, “Nah, can’t say that’s happened before.”

It was a surprise to you; surely, you thought, Dean was a ladies’ man. He had all the markings of one, anyway: the leather jacket, woodsy vibe, muscle car… 

“You’re kidding,” you couldn’t hide the surprise in your voice. 

Dean chuckled softly. “No, sweetheart. You are definitely the first.”

His words were gentle, but true—you could tell. A small tug pulled at the corners of your eyebrows. “I’m sorry, I’m just surprised,” you said carefully as the waitress approached your table.

“Hi there, my name’s Alice. What can I get ya, doll?” She smiled at you with a grin that reminded you of how an aunt or grandmother might. 

“I’ll have water, please. I’ll just take a minute to look over the menu,” you smiled back. 

She nodded and turned to Dean. “You still doing alright, love? Need a refill or anything?” While her tone had been pleasant and kind with you, it really softened when she addressed Dean. It made you smirk. It only validated further that he was certainly a ladies’ man. 

“Nah, I’m alright, Alice,” he smiled back. “Thank you, sweetheart.” You could’ve sworn you saw Alice swoon, but Dean didn’t seem to notice. “How was work today?” Dean asked as he turned his attention back to you. 

“Ugh,” you groaned, the smile completely gone from your face. “Same shit, different day, I guess.” You mumbled. Dean seemed interested so you continued. “I just landed a new project. It’s a new client, so there are a lot of growing pains.” You explained. “But it could always be worse, right?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said as he took a drink of his soda. “The more you talk about your job, the more miserable it sounds.” 

“Doing what I love doesn’t pay the bills, Dean,” you sighed but found a small smile again. “We can’t all be traveling exterminators.” You winked. 

Dean chuckled with a look down at his hands folded on the table in front of him, but then back to you. “Well, what is it that you love?” The way his eyes stared back into yours made your breath get caught in your throat. It was as if he wanted to see you—who you were, not just at face value, but deeper than that. 

You took a moment to gather yourself before you continued. “I love writing. I always have. I tried applying it to a career, actually,” your mind wandered for a moment as you remembered the girl you used to be all those years ago. Your gaze found Dean’s once more. He noted the slight sadness that had appeared there. “It just didn’t work out.”

Alice had returned with your water now, and you heard her voice ask if you were ready to order. 

“Go ahead,” you smiled at Dean. “I won’t take long.” You quickly spanned the menu as Dean ordered some burger meal in the background. 

After he was done, Alice turned to you. You ordered a bacon burger and tater tots. Alice smiled at you both. 

“I’ll get that out in no time,” she said. “You two need anything else?” You both shook your heads ‘no’. 

“I think that’ll do it, thanks, Alice,” a smile pulled at Dean’s lips once more. 

You noticed the way Alice’s red manicured fingers touched Dean’s shoulder. “You just let me know if you need anything else. Anything at all…” she trailed off with a wink. 

You pressed your lips together to contain the laugh that threatened to bubble up at how blatantly she was flirting with Dean. He didn’t seem to notice, or at least, didn’t bring any attention to it.

Once she had walked away, you noticed Dean’s gaze had returned to you. You cleared your throat and took a sip of water before you spoke again.

“So, what about you? I’m genuinely curious about this traveling exterminator business you’ve got going on,” the words felt a little silly as they came from your lips, but you were being honest. Ever since Dean had mentioned it, you were curious. Dean chuckled softly as he broke eye contact. He ran his palms down the thighs of his jeans before he looked back up. You weren’t sure, but you would have thought he looked nervous, which seemed odd to you. “Seriously, how do you love being an exterminator? And why is it the ‘family business’?” You used your fingers to air-quote the way he had referenced it before.

Dean shrugged slightly as it was his turn to take a gulp of his water. “Well,” he started slowly. “My, uh, my mom died when I was really young. I was four and my brother, Sammy, was six months old.” He explained. That was something you hadn’t been expecting and your eyes widened. You had somewhat assumed Dean’s parents may be deceased or out of the picture from the way he spoke of it just being him and his brother when you were in Atlanta. 

“I’m so sorry,” was all you knew to say. Dean’s forearms rested on the table now as he spoke. On instinct, you reached across and placed your hand just over his. “That’s awful. How did she…?” You trailed off, unsure if that was a question you should even ask or if he would be comfortable talking about it. 

“There was a house fire,” he explained softly. His eyes looked down at his lap. “But, uh, after that my dad kinda had a hard time.” Understandable, you thought to yourself but kept quiet to let him continue. “We ended up on the road a lot. My dad met up with my, uh, my Uncle Bobby,” he seemed to hesitate, but you still kept silent to allow him to work through what he needed or wanted to say. “They started up this traveling exterminator business. They’d pick up jobs to help people out. My dad just didn’t want to stay in one place too long, so we moved around a lot.”

It still seemed wild and wasn’t anything you were familiar with, but now understanding the loss of his mom made it easier to absorb. 

“I can’t imagine,” you shook your head as you looked down to where your hand still covered his. You pulled it back gently. “I’m so sorry for all you’ve been through, Dean.” 

“Ah, it’s alright,” Dean cleared his throat and it felt like he had almost pulled himself out of his feelings as he sat back in his chair. A smaller smile crossed his face. “We’ve all got stuff. We just gotta go through it, I guess.”

While you appreciated his ability to pull through it, you knew there were probably some underlying feelings there. Your mind wandered back for a moment and pulled out something he had said in the hotel in Atlanta to you: he’s terrified of being afraid.

It started to make sense. He was afraid of being afraid: at four, he lost his mother in a horrible tragedy. And by the sounds of it, he may have lost his father because he didn’t know how to be a parent in the face of tragedy. When he told you it was just him and his brother, he had meant it. Who wouldn’t be afraid of being afraid after living through something like that? 

“Here you are,” Alice reappeared with a sing-songy tune as she placed your burgers down in front of you. 

“Looks great,” Dean smiled down at his plate. You felt a twinge of sadness for him and all that he had been through, but you pushed it aside just as he did. 

“It really does, thank you,” you smiled back at Alice. But her eyes weren’t on you, they were all over Dean. 

“My pleasure, hun,” she practically swooned. “And I mean it, you let me know if you need anything else.” How many times has she said that now? You matched Dean’s smile. 

“Thanks,” Dean said as she nodded and turned to walk away with a long glance over her shoulder. 

It took everything in you to contain the laugh that threatened to emerge, the thoughts of your previous conversation fading. Alice walked back to the kitchen and Dean looked at you with a clear “what?” look plastered on his face. 

“Oh, nothing,” you smirked before you took a sip of your water. “It’s just that I bet you could get whatever you wanted with a charm like that.”

“Alright, alright,” Dean rolled his eyes, but still smiled, as he shrugged it off. 

“I’m serious. All it takes is a little bat of those lashes and she’s putty in your hands,” you teased. 

Dean leaned forward with his forearms flat on the table, his hands clasped in front of him. His face was close again—it reminded you of the Longhorn in Atlanta when he was so close, you felt like you could count the freckles that dotted his face. “And what about you, sweetheart? You turn to putty, too?” The playful grin that tugged across his lips made your stomach flutter. 

You leaned back a bit and took another drink from your water—it was for two reasons, really. It gave you a minute to gather your words, but it also cooled you off from the flame that burned so obviously in front of you. 

“Oh, no,” you quipped, as you attempted to seem unphased. The flirtatious notes from your tone came through, and Dean picked them up–the way his lips crept up in a small smile gave him away. “I’m immune.” A shrug raised your shoulders but you couldn’t help the pull of your lips as you caught the way Dean’s eyes glinted back at you. 

“We might just have to test that theory,” his comment made you slightly inhale the bite of your burger you had just consumed. Thankfully, your sputtering only lasted a second, but the gig was up and your cover had been blown. The heat that rose in your cheeks gave away that your stoic demeanor was just a ruse, and Dean was completely aware. 

There was something about the way his lips still curved upward, but his eyes bore into you–they were dark, but in a way that felt almost like you were caught in an electrical storm; the little hairs at the back of your neck stood to attention and goosebumps bubbled over your skin.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Dean?” Your voice was low now, your eyes trained on his. As flustered as he had gotten you just a moment before, you forced yourself to stay strong as you stared straight back at him without even a blink. 

Without missing a beat, the muscle in his jaw clenched as he bit down with his teeth. The familiar upward curve up his lip made the dimple in his cheek pop as his eyes moved between your eyes and your lips. “Is it working?”

And just like that, you felt like putty in the man’s damn hands.

A/N: Well, hellllllo, Tumblr world! I know, it has been far too long. Things in my life are still hectic, BUT I'm back! I have missed all my reader friends, writer friends and writing in general.

I can't promise double updates each week (but I will when I can). Otherwise, new chapters will be posted on Thursdays moving forward.

I hope you all are well, and I hope you enjoy chapter 4!

PREVIEW OF THE NEXT CHAPTER:

You had never consumed (nor had you seen someone consume) a burger so quickly before in your life. It was a good burger, but that wasn’t what you could focus on.

When Alice came back to the table to check out–ahem, on–you (but mostly Dean), his gaze didn’t even move from yours. 

“We’ll take the check now, Alice,” he said carefully as he watched you. The way his eyes studied you made you feel naked. It was like nothing else existed in the world but you. Heat climbed your chest in blotchy patches until they formed puzzle pieces on your neck, your cheeks. The way your heart pounded against your sternum felt so loud, you could hear each beat in your ears. This man was doing something to you, and that was something you hadn’t experienced in too long.

“Here you go, sugar,” Alice gingerly placed the bill in the middle of the table. She watched Dean intently, certainly hoping for maybe one more look into those beautiful green eyes. He glanced quickly with a smile as he fumbled in his pocket for his wallet. He tossed enough cash to cover the meal and the tip on the table, then back to you.

“Thanks, Alice,” he said, without missing another beat. He stood and held his hand out for you to take. “You wanna get outta here?”

Words seemed to fail you for a second, so you just nodded very quickly. Before he could pull you towards the door, he grabbed the grocery bag with the cherry pie you had brought.

“Oh, you forgot to eat your pie,” you murmured as you followed him through the diner.

“I was thinking we might have a different dessert tonight,” he paused at the door as his eyes looked over you once more. You realized he was asking if that’s what you wanted, too. Yet again, all you could do was nod.

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#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural ff #supernatural fan fic #spn fanfiction #spn fan fiction #spn fanfic #spn fan fic #spn ff #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester ff #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female oc #dean winchester x ofc #taking chances

[honeybear-yammy]

Bad Girls Don't Get To Cum

Warnings: cursing, smut, daddy kink, punishment, edging, p in v, unprotected sex

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: In which Dean punishes Y/N by edging her.

Kinktober Day 13 - Edging

© Honeybear-Yammy, please do not steal, translate, copy, or transfer my work.

You whimpered and whined as Dean flipped you over onto your stomach before thrusting into your abused pussy once again. He had been edging you for hours. You knew that by doing what you did that you would end up getting some type of punishment, you knew you were suppose to obey the rules but, you'd rather be a brat instead.

"I- fuck- please, Dean!" You moaned out as his cock thrusted into you hard and faster, the tip hitting that spongey spot deep inside of you. "Dean? You know that's not my name, princess." Dean said with a smirk. You whined as he continued to fuck into your abused hole. "Come on, say it." Dean growled. "Fuck! Please, daddy!" You moaned out loudly.

"Atta girl." He said with a devilish smirk as he smacked your ass roughly. You kept begging and begging Dean to let you cum, your begs eventually becoming inaudible when you became a moaning mess for him. "You want daddy to let you cum, is that what you want, baby?" He asked with a smirk. You just nodded quickly. "No, no, baby.. you know we use our words." He said.

"Shit! Yes, I want daddy to let me cum! Please let me cum, daddy!" You moaned out loudly, almost yelling and screaming. "Well, tell me this, do you think naughty little sluts deserve to cum?" He asked with a growl as he smacked your ass hard once again, the skin already stinging from his first attack on your ass. "Please! I'll be a good girl for daddy, I promise! Please!" You begged him more.

"Who owns this pussy?" Dean asked. "You do, daddy!" You said as you moaned out loudly. "Who fucks you better than anyone else?" He asked. "Still you! O- only you!" You yelled. "Damn right." He said with a growl as he picked up the pace even more. "Come on, cum, cum for daddy." He said.

With that your eyes rolled back, your whole body was trembling as the coil inside of your snapped causing you to gush all over your boyfriend's cock. Dean continued to fuck your cunt hard and fast, the feeling of overstimulation setting in now. Your eyes began to water a little as your walls fluttered around his hard cock causing him to cum now, shooting his load deep inside of you causing his seeds to cover your gummy walls.

Dean slowly pulled his cock out of your cunt once you both came down from your orgasms. You laid there on the breath sticky, sweaty, and breathless. Dean laid down beside you and he was also catching his breath as well. "Did I go too hard?" He asked softly as he gently removed some hair out of your face that was sticking to your forehead. "No, I love it." You said with a grin as you leaned in and kissed him. "Mm.. I love you, Dean." You said with a warm smile. "I love you too, Y/N." He said with a grin.

Author's Note: tysm for reading!

#supernatural #dean winchester #d. winchester #deanwinchester #dean #winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester x f!reader #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester x character #dean winchester x female character #dean winchester x original character #dean winchester x female original character #dean winchester x original female character #dean winchester x ofc #smut #supernatural smut #dean smut #dean winchester smut #smut warning #smutwarning #smut warnings #smutwarnings #tw #tw smut

[deangirlsstuff67]

Good Girl

MOC! Dean x Reader

Warnings: Praise, sex toys, MOC! Dean, bondage, Unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, anal play, P in V, dirty talk

Summary: Dean and Sam are fighting yet again. You hear glass shatter against a wall, followed by a very angry Sam slamming his door. Feeling brave, you go in search of Dean.

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They're at it again. Those two fight worse than a married couple these days. Makes sense given the current situation we all find ourselves living in. I just don't think angering Dean is the wisest choice, he's already on the edge most days. It would take a soft wind to blow him over.

Sadly, your new to hunting, meaning the guys don't listen to you on a good day. Couple years ago Dean and Sam saved your crazy ass when a nest of vampires came to town and killed your family. You are 22 years old and bought the boys enough whiskey at the local bar to make them agree you could come back to the bunker.

Dean tries to avoid you as much as possible. While you don't get the feeling he hates you, you do know you make him uncomfortable.

Sam has taken you under his wing as a little sister. Teachs you the basics of fighting and makes you read lore book after lore book. And in this place I think I'll be dead before I get through it all.

Even Cas has taken a liking to you. He teaches you about angels and you teach him how to be less awkward, it's sort of working.

Glass shattering brings you back to the present.

Well fuck, that can't be a good sign. Moments later heavy, angry foot steps deasend the hallway and a door slams. Sam's door, meaning Dean's still out there... pissed.

With a loud sigh you get out of bed. You're wearing one Dean's flannels and black lacy underwear. You've always had a crush on the older Winchester. Tonight you're hoping the outfit will work like armor. Dean's a ladies man after all, and your not bad looking if you say so yourself.

Slowly and quietly you make your way towards the command center in search of the ticking time bomb known as Dean. This is most definitely a bad idea but you can't stand the thought of him alone with all that rage running through his veins.

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The scene you walk in on saddens your soul. Dean has the bottle of amber liquor sitting beside him as he stares at the wall and broken glass. So lost in his own head he doesn't hear me coming until I'm standing in front of him.

Those bright green eyes rake up and down my body, the farther they travel the darker they become. When he drags his eyes back to mine they are damn near pitch black. Lust sparkling in them.

Oh fuck.

You try to sound strong and confident, but let's face it this man melts you into a puddle at his feet.

"Dean..." your voice is higher than normal, barely above a whisper, "are you o... okay?"

His breathing is labored, coming out in deep puffs that shake his shoulders. To look at him you'd think he was on the verge of murder. But it's his eyes, they tell a very different story.

"That’s my shirt y/n." The way your name rolls of his tongue is dangerous. Sending a warmth straight to your core, making you involuntarily squeeze your thighs together.

His eyes snap down to your soaking core. Shit, he noticed. Of course he did, wouldn't be a good hunter if he didn't have reflexes of a cat.

"I didnt think you'd mind. I need to do laundry. " You go to reach for his hand but he stands abruptly. Without a word he turns to leave the room, and you.

Why Dean.

Not this time. You rush him from behind but your plan back fires. Next thing you know Dean has you pinned against the wall and his hard body. Very hard... ALL of it.

After a couple moments of silence you have to ask, "why do you always run from me?"

A smile curls those perfectly soft lips before he lightly pumps his hips into yours, making his hard cock rub deliciously against your dripping core.

Well fuck, it's not that he hates me, it's that he likes me... a lot.

Now or never y/n.

Feeling brave you look him dead in the eye and ask, "why don't you use some of that pent up anger for some good big guy?" Finishing off by grabbing his cock through his jeans, hard.

Groaning, Dean rips you off the wall and down the hall.

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Bondage. Should have seen this coming in hindsight. The man thrives on control. Even more so now.

Here I am tied to Dean's bed via handcuffs. The beautiful specimen in his black boxers looking down at me as he pushes the small vibrator straight onto my bundle of nerves, again.

"Such a good girl for me. Think you have one more in that tight little pussy for me?" He moves a finger down to the plug he worked into my tight channel and softly taps.

My head is spinning from the previous orgasms he's pulled from my body already, the most I can do is let out a loud moan in answer.

This is a side of Dean I've never experienced before. He's enjoying making me cock drunk. Thriving on the power it supplies him. At least if the ever growing wet spot at the top of his boxers is any indication.

"Beg me sweetheart. Beg for my cock to fill you, stretch you." My eyes are closed but I know he's close. I can feel his hot breath on my cheek as he leans down to whisper in my ear.

"Dean... pl.. please can I.. I have your co.. cock"

"You're sound so pretty when you beg Princess." He lifts the vibrator off my clit just before another orgasm rips through my body. I whimper at the lose making him laugh.

Before I have time to protest my lose, Dean positions himself between my shaking thighs and feeds his rock hard dick into my soaking core.

Groans echo off the walls of his room as we adjust to the feel of each other. He's huge. That big dick cocky energy isn't a lie, the man's packing.

"Y/N you feel amazing wrapped around my cock." Slowly he pulls out until nothing but the tip is left then he slams back in. Handcuffs rattling from the movement.

He takes me hard and fast. Working both of us into a frenzy of moans and whimpers. Soon I'm clamping down on his cock making it harder for him to pull out as I scream his name and flood his member and thighs.

It's all it takes to send him over the edge as he joins me. Rope after rope of warm cum fills my quivering walls. He's Cummings so hard I can feel it begin to leak out of me and down my thighs.

Dean collapses onto my worn-out body. Only moving to undo the handcuffs and bring my arms down to massage as he catches his breath. Once we are back on planet Earth, he eases his soften dick from my abused core, the mixture of us leaking out.

Memorized for a moment, he takes his fingers and gently pushes it back inside me, causing my to whimper.

Dean smiles down at me, satisfied and moves to the bathroom to clean up and bring me a wet cloth. After he's done cleaning us up, he grabs my body and man handles it to a postion of his liking as we cuddle together.

Moments pass in silence before Dean speaks, "thank you. That was exactly what I needed to calm the mark. You're amazing sweetheart."

"Anything for you Dean."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

A soft giggle leaves my lips, "not in a bad way."

Dean sends me a naughty smirk and wink before taking my lips in a passionate kiss.

"Get some rest Princess, I have plans for us when we wake."

It's the last I hear before sleep takes my exhausted body into the land of slumber, dreaming of tomorrow and what awaits me.

#dean girl #dean winchester #jensen ackles #supernatural #spn fanfic #deanwinchtser #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x original female character #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x reader

[mystra-midnight]

Playing with Blackbirds

summary: caught in a storm the trio is forced to pull over and sleep in the car. in need of attention, dean wakes raven.

warnings: dom!dean. little hint of voyeurism. consensual non-consent.

words: 2.1k

a/n: this has literally been sitting in my drafts for like three years so it’s high time i finish it and post it. i wrote this for a very dear friend of mine, hence why the character is named. but really you could imagine it's yourself or anyone of your choice in the back seat of the impala with dominantpassionatesexgod dean.

At first, she thought it was the sound of the storm that had woken her. It was black outside, an endless void that the lightning illuminated for seconds at a time before it plunged back into darkness.

Raven had woken with a start, her body jerking up so she was propped up on her elbows, her eyes straining to see through the black. Years of hunting had conditioned her to react like this: to always be on edge and to assume the worst. Where was her gun? What was attacking her? Was she going to die today?

It took a minute for her heart to settle and for her to remember that she was safe. Well, as safe as she could be given that she was sleeping on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, in the back of a car with the Winchester brothers.

Groaning in annoyance, she dropped down until her back was pressed against the leather seat. Raven fumbled around on the floor for her phone, cursing softly until she found it. She regretted turning it on. The sudden brightness made her eyes water.

2:45am.

"Fucking hell."

She’d only managed to fall asleep an hour ago.

At first, the gentle patter on the roof had been soothing, giving the woman some kind of euphoria. It was a hard emotion to explain. It was almost like all the hurt, pain, and bad memories were washed out of the world with the downpour, like tomorrow would be a fresh start.

But as the minutes dragged on and the sky sobbed harder, reaching a thunderous roar, it became anything but soothing. The wind howled loudly like a banshee, whipping the car hard enough to make it rock, which just made sleeping that much more difficult. It made her skin crawl.

Raven shut her phone off and tossed it aside, so she was shrouded in darkness once again. There was no way she was going to be able to get back to sleep now.

And then the real source of her disturbed slumber made itself known: a pressure on her right thigh, just above the knee, that sent her mind careening through the events that had led to this moment.

The trio had been forced to pull over when it had become impossible to see the road, and the second the Impala was pulling off the slick asphalt, Sam was calling dibs on the front seat. Dean and Raven had been banished to the backseat for the night, which wouldn’t have been so bad if they weren’t at each other's throats.

It wasn’t unusual for them to be this way after a botched hunt; this time a skinwalker had escaped, slipping from their grasps like water through their fingers. And because of it, all three of the hunters were in a foul mood.

Raven had curled her knees against her chest, her arms wrapped around them, and her head resting against the window. She’d tried to make herself as small as possible, which wasn’t so hard given that she was already tiny in comparison to the brothers.

Dean had done the same on the opposite side of the car: arms crossed against his broad chest, head down, and legs on his side. But after not even an hour, they had both spread out, stretching life back into their stiff limbs.

Now her legs were across his lap, and she knew that it was his hand on her thigh, burning a hole through the denim of her jeans and down to the bone beneath tattooed skin. Her brow creased with uncertainty, and worry wormed its way into her thoughts.

Was something wrong?

"Dean?" Her voice sounded small, almost impossible to be heard above the thundering rain, even to her own ears. A minute went by with no response, and she started to think that maybe she’d imagined his hand moving up her leg. Dean was just resting it there while he slept, nothing more, but then it was moving further up her body, to the apex of her thighs, where he gripped her mound firmly, making her stomach tighten.

"‘bout time you woke up." His voice was low and husky, thick with lust, and she could hear him smirking. Her mind failed to figure out what game he was playing right now. It wasn’t like she hadn’t ever considered sleeping with him. They had shared enough flirty looks and filthy jokes to make a prostitute blush, but neither had shown much of an interest in anything more than that.

She and Dean were friends. That was it.

Raven wasn’t opposed to the idea of fucking him and giving him the ride of his life in the back of Baby, but his brother was literally right fucking there, less than two feet away.

"What the hell are you doing?" She tried to keep her voice firm and keep the tremor from it. She squeezed her thighs together, trapping his hand between them and halting his explorations.

He growled softly, the sound causing heat to pool between her legs as his other hand gripped her ankle hard enough to bruise it. "Open ‘em." He said, well, ordered. Raven could feel her panties becoming soaked from his dominating tone and touch.

Dean was all fire and heat, his hard voice leaving no room for argument, but...

Raven shuffled, trying to sit up and get away from him. She didn’t like the position he had trapped her in and how it gave him an advantage over her. She wasn’t some meek, fragile damsel that needed protecting. She was usually the one in charge, the one calling the shots in and out of the bedroom. This was unfamiliar territory, and it was as frightening as it was exciting.

But one of his large hands splayed possessively against her stomach, causing her internal temperature to rise until she thought her organs might combust. Dean pressed his palm down, keeping her pinned as he shifted so that he was kneeling and hovering over her.

His hand was still trapped between her thighs, his fingers digging in until her breath hitched and came faster.

"We can’t."

"I said open them." His voice was harder this time, his deep baritone making a delicate shiver run down her spine. Raven squeezed her thighs tighter together in stubborn resistance.

"Dean-"

He ripped her legs open without warning, earning a surprised squeak from the woman. The elder Winchester wasted no time popping open the button of her jeans and pulling the zipper down. Raven squirmed beneath him, trying once more to escape but not really wanting to. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to sleep with him—just not here.

"Let's make a deal, Raven." He leant in closer, his lips fluttering against hers teasingly as he spoke. "If you’re not wet already, I’ll stop. If you are, then I’m going to fuck you until you’re cumming on my cock. Deal?"

Her heartbeats quickened at his words. No, she didn’t like this game because there was no way she could win. Raven could feel how wet she was for him and how her body was preparing for his touch and his invasion.

She pushed against his shoulders. "Dean. Come on, you've gotta stop." Her whispered words faltered as his hand entered her panties, strong fingers pushing through her folds, feeling how slick she was for him.

"Fuck." He breathed out. "You’re so wet. All this for me, baby?"

Raven gave a mewling moan and sucked her lip into her mouth, biting it nervously. Their eyes met in one of the brief flashes of lightning, and in that instant, she knew she was done for. Those olive green eyes were dark with lust, and she found that she couldn’t resist him for a minute longer.

Her gaze flicked to the front seat, where she knew Sam was sleeping but couldn’t see him. Dean slipped a finger into her weeping entrance, and her hand flew to the back of his neck, dragging him to her so she could smash her mouth against his and stifle her moan.

Her hands were everything then, touching and ripping the shirt from his shoulders. His fingers pumped in and out of her wetness, the other hand working the buttons of her flannel shirt open so he could attack her tits with kisses and bites. He ripped her pants down her legs, leaving them wrapped around her knees.

Their touches were impassioned but awkward. The backseat was too small for them to spread out and strip the other naked, and it was hard to thoroughly explore the other's body, but that didn’t stop either of them.

Dean added a second finger to his assault on her core, and she arched her back to give him easier access, moaning his name into the kiss because the feeling of him stretching her was amazing. His thumb pressed hard on her clit, flicking it roughly as he drove his fingers in deeper, making her walls clench and suck him in.

Raven moaned harder, her teeth seizing his lip in a bite that had him growling. Their breaths mingled together, fogging the windows, as her hands explored the expanse of his chest, tracing every scar he had. She found one of his nipples and pinched it hard, making his fingers falter.

"Fucking tease." He muttered, and she laughed.

"So says the man feeling me up while his brother sleeps a foot away."

Dean drove a third finger into her, making her scream out loudly. He smothered her mouth with his opposite hand, cutting the noise before it got too loud, but he didn’t slow his thrusts. He used his entire arm to drive his fingers into her cunt, making her tits jiggle, and the wet sounds filled the car, even if it was hard to hear over the rain.

She was close. He could feel her walls tightening and then releasing and tightening again. "Quiet, baby. You don’t want Sam to wake up and see you like this, do you? All wet and hungry to cum? Or maybe you do. Maybe you want us both to take you. Really fill you up."

Raven was getting dizzy; his hand on her mouth made it harder to breathe, but it only drove her high and made her climax that much stronger. She came hard, her walls convulsing around his thick fingers, screaming into his palm, her nails digging into his shoulders.

He kept the pace the same and didn’t slow down as she came tumbling down from her high. He finger-fucked her through her orgasm, making it last longer than she thought possible. When she was done, a panting, writhing mess beneath him, Dean withdrew his hand, making her whine because she suddenly felt so empty.

A flash of lightning lit up the car. Dean was licking her slick from his fingers like a hungry kitten. It made colour creep up her neck and into her face, and it made her core clench hard around nothing. "Dean..." Her voice was drizzling with lust as she fumbled with his belt.

Dean grunted and slapped her hands away before making quick work of his belt and jeans, which he shoved down his hips. "I got you, babe."

He grabbed her legs behind her knees and practically folded her over. Raven gasped and then moaned when she felt his hard erection prod her wet folds.

He pushed her knees harder into her chest, pinning her, so that all she could do was clutch the seats, her nails scratching the fabric and leaving it marked. He rubbed the underside of her shaft against her, nudging her clit with his head until she was trying to buck her hips and get him inside her.

"Eager little thing," Dean mused before slamming inside her until her balls slapped against her arse and he was buried to the hilt. Raven screamed out, forgetting she was meant to be keeping quiet. She hadn’t felt so full before; his cock stretched her open, pressing against every nerve ending and then some. Her nails dug harder into the seat, her breathing coming faster, and when she wriggled against him impatiently, Dean knew it was time to move.

He drew back slowly, inch by inch, until only his swollen head was inside, and then slammed back in, making her cry out again and the car rock with the force. Her nails dug into his skin, raked down his back to pull him closer, her mouth on his, their breaths mingling together as he pistoned into her.

Neither of them noticed Sam watching in the mirror as he violently fisted his dick.

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