#reader x dean winchester

[muffinbeliever]

Green with Envy

The reader is flirting with a guy for a case, and her boyfriend Dean is not happy about it.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1732

Warnings: SMUT !!!! obv lol, thigh riding, choking, use of sir, degrading, hmmmmm that might be it lol

A/N: hello hello hello my lovelies its kinktober y'all know what that means *wink wonk* please enjoy this little smutty one shot with our favorite daddy dean (except in this he isn't daddy he's sir) this was written for @candy-coated-misery0731 per request

Masterlist 

Dean was pissed. He was beyond pissed. 

He was absolutely furious. 

You could feel his piercing eyes glaring at the back of your head. Twirling your hair in your fingers, you nodded along to whatever the guy in front of you was saying, throwing in a flirtatious giggle every now and then just to add to your performance. Internally, you huffed at your boyfriend’s obvious annoyance. 

It wasn’t like you wanted to talk to this guy— he was over-confident and loud— you just had to distract him long enough for Sam and Dean to grill his friend about the recent deaths in town. But seeing how Dean was standing in the corner, gritting his teeth, you assumed the brothers determined only one of them would be needed for the job.

The man across from you (you couldn’t recall his name… was it Jackson? Jasper? Whatever.) placed his hand on your arm, and you realized you had zoned out. 

“Did you hear what I said?” He asked. His breath reeked of alcohol, and you wanted to cringe away from his touch, but you had a job to do. You swallowed your disgust and flashed him a sultry smile.

“Sorry, I was focused on your arms. Do you work out?” You feigned interest as you placed your hand on his bicep, and he smirked while flexing. 

“Yeah, I lift,” he said, smugly. He glanced at your empty glass sitting on the bar and frowned. “Another round?”

You shook your head. 

“No thanks, I have work in the morning,” you said, politely hinting that you wouldn’t be spending the night with him like he had hoped. 

“Oh come on! Just one more drink wouldn’t hurt,” he encouraged, and with a sigh you caved, figuring that if you’re going to be stuck with him for God-knows-how-much longer, at least you’d get a free drink out of it. 

“Alright, sure,” you agreed, resigned to your duty of the night. 

As he hailed down the bartender, your eyes swept through the room, finding your boyfriend still brooding in the same corner. His eyebrows were tightly knit and his lips were slightly pursed. His arms were crossed over his chest; his arm muscles bulging in his black t-shirt without even trying. His dark green eyes met yours from across the bar, and you flashed him a smile. He raised a single eyebrow in return. 

You knew that look. 

You were fucked.

The bartender slid you a glass filled with amber liquid, presumably whiskey, but you weren’t sure. You thanked him and threw it back, knowing you’ll need it later when your jealous boyfriend decided to confront you. 

The man across from you laughed and saluted you with a cheers before throwing his glass back as well. Suddenly, he was a lot closer than before, and you stood in shock as he reached out his hand, placing it on your cheek, and wiped at your bottom lip. You jerked from his touch, not at all pleased with his straightforward style. 

“You had some whiskey on your lip,” he explained before he leaned in closer. “Would you have preferred I kiss it away, instead?” 

Before you could say anything, you felt a firm hand clasp your shoulder and you were pulled away from the man in front of you and straight in to the familiar broad chest of your boyfriend. 

“H-hey!” The man sputtered, confused as to what had just happened. 

Dean ignored him and held your hand tightly in his. 

“Y/N, we’re leaving,” he said quietly but firmly in your ear. His low voice was laced with anger and jealousy, and you hated to admit that it turned you on. Whether it was the liquor you practically inhaled or the dark promise of what was to come, you fluttered your eyelashes at him.

“But I was having fun,” you said with a pout. “And Sam isn’t even done!” 

His eyes hardened even more at your disobedience, and he spun you towards the door. 

“Let’s go. Now.” 

With a dramatic sigh, you waved at What’s-His-Face, and he waved back, perplexed. You led the way out of the bar, Dean’s steady hand against your lower back. 

The cool breeze hit you like a breath of fresh air, but you had no time to appreciate it, as Dean was already opening the passenger door to Baby, and you got in without argument. Without a word, he started the car and backed out of the driveway. His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, not quite speeding back to the motel, but definitely making a hasty exit. 

“What about Sam?” You asked, sighing when your boyfriend clenched his jaw and kept his eyes on the road, ignoring your question. “Dean, look I—”

“Be quiet.” 

His words were soft but demanding, and you couldn’t help the rush of excitement that swept through your body. You did as you were told and crossed your legs to provide some friction to your heated core. The last time Dean was this upset, he had spanked you so hard that you had bruises on your ass for a week. You watched as the night scenery flashed by, hyperaware of the rumbling vibrations of Baby’s engine that seemed to send sparks through you with every bump in the road.

He sharply pulled the car into the parking lot and you were quick to unbuckle your seatbelt. Dean, on the other hand, took his time, making you impatient for what was to come, but you knew better than to complain, so you kept your mouth shut and waited for him to guide you. 

He got out of the car first, before making his way to your side where he stiffly opened the door. Ever the gentleman, he offered you his hand, and you took it, climbing out of the car. 

It was silent as you entered your room, and you were thankful for Dean’s foresight of getting a separate room from Sam this time. You placed your bag on the bed, and Dean took a seat on the armchair facing you. His legs were spread and he looked leisurely, like a king, but you were not fooled. There was anger brewing in his eyes. 

“Strip.” 

This time, you knew better than to argue. You started with your top, crossing your arms over your body before slowly pulling it off. Your breasts bouncing as they were released. You unbuttoned your jeans before shimmying them down your legs. You hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your thong, and slowly pulled it down, turning around and bending over as you did.

Before long, you were fully naked, and Dean drank your body in with hungry eyes. He shifted in the chair, and you noticed his pants were tented where he had grown hard watching you strip. Without another word, he spread his legs even more and patted his leg. Understanding his request, you sat on him, your legs on either side as you straddled his thigh. 

His leg was thick and hard under you, and you couldn’t help but press down further, creating friction between your clit and his jeans. His arm shot out and his hands wrapped around your throat, restricting you from grinding against him anymore. 

“Did I say you could move?” His voice was low. Menacing. 

“No,” you whimpered quietly, shaking your head. He tilted his head and tightened his grip around your throat.

“No, what?” 

“No, sir,” you choked out. His tight hold relaxed slightly, and you inhaled deeply. 

“I’m not happy with you, Y/N,” he stated simply. 

“I know.” Your voice was shaky, partly from his grip and partly from your bubbling excitement. 

“You know, do you? And what exactly do you know?” 

“I shouldn’t have been teasing you like that, sir. I’m sorry.” 

He chuckled darkly, and his other hand came to rest on your waist, shuffling you around, knowing it only made you more desperate. 

“Teasing me? You think this is about you teasing me?” 

You nodded quickly, causing him to chuckle more. 

“This is about you parading yourself around the bar. Acting like a slut,” he hissed, pulling you closer towards him to whisper in your ear.

“Like you aren’t mine.”

You could feel yourself getting wetter with every word, whimpering from his intoxicating smell and touch that surrounded you. 

“Tell me, Y/N, did you like when he touched your arm? And when he touched your lips that are only meant to be wrapped around my cock?” His thumb traced your bottom lip with a soft reverence that contrasted with his anger and rage. His hand tightened around your throat once again.

“Answer me.” 

Immediately, you shook your head. You hadn’t enjoyed it. Not one bit. 

“No, sir.” 

He slowly began to rock your hips against his thigh, pulling you flush against the denim so you could feel the rough fabric. 

“No? And why should I believe a whore like you?” He muttered into your hair as you ground your hips against him faster, whining and closing your eyes as you felt sparks in your toes moving up towards your core. Suddenly, you were stilled, and your eyes shot open. 

“I asked you a question. You seem to be having trouble answering those tonight.” 

Still dazed, you shook your head. “Yours. I’m only yours, sir. No one else’s.”

“Only mine?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Prove it.” 

And with that, he sat you back down on his thigh. His large hand that was still wrapped around your throat tightened again, and you moaned as you rode him. Your hands gripped the arm of the chair and his thigh, steading yourself. You ground your hips against him and the room filled with your moans and whimpers. 

“That’s a good girl. Wanting to prove to me that you’re my whore, and my whore only.” 

You gasped when a sharp smack was delivered to your ass, speeding up your pace as waves of pleasure rolled through you, faster and faster, until you reached your peak, your body shuddering against his as you came with a wail. 

Spent, you slumped against his clothed form, a slight sheen of sweat covering your body. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and you mumbled nonsense tiredly into the cotton of his shirt. He chuckled at your tiredness.

“You’re not getting out of this so easily, sweetheart. We’re not finished yet.”

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine @bluedragonflylady @cevans-winchester @bakugouswh0r3 @muhahaha303 @allaroundjejje

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #reader insert #reader x dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester oneshot #supernatural #supernatural oneshot #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #thigh riding lol #muffinbeliever

[1000roughdrafts]

If You're Gonna Lie...

Summary: Y/N and Dean have been seeing each other for quite a while, but when Dean keeps disappearing on Y/N, it leaves her confused on where they stand. Dean, not wanting to give away his secret line of work, continues to lie to Y/N about why he keeps showing up late. When she confronts him, will he continue to lie or will he tell her the truth?

A/N: This is a fic inspired by the song If You're Gonna Lie by Fletcher

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: mild language, alcohol mentioned, implied infidelity, sex mentioned, slight angst, relationship conflict

Y/N's eyes stare blankly at the lipstick stained wine glass on the table in front of her. In the pit of her stomach brews regret and shame that she had spent all damn day preparing dinner and picking out a wine for Dean's seven o'clock arrival. Now at ten she sits alone with untouched plates and an empty bottle of wine.

The ticking of the clock mocks her, reminding her of the little voice inside of her that screamed not to trust him. Tightening her lips, she licks them, collecting the final drops of wine that replace the red lipstick she had been wearing. Her body buzzes in a Merlot induced high so she places her hand on the table to steady herself as she stands. She collects the plates and glasses slowly, fighting the urge to shatter them across the floor. 

Her nose crinkles as she scrapes the cold food into the trash aggressively with her fork. She sets the dishes into the dishwasher and starts it before swaying over to sit on the couch. Pulling out her phone she types a message about not appreciating being stood up for the fourth fucking time, but she deletes it and swipes down to click on the location icon.

She scoffs with a smile of disbelief, "oh, great! A motel near the strip club!" Y/N chucks her phone at the carpet before bringing her hands up to her face as soft sobs rock her body. She feels herself sinking more and more into the leather couch as she cries, and she must've dozed off at some point because she's jolted awake by a knock on the door.

The pounding of her heart is all she can hear as she quickly wipes her face. She's slow to bring herself to her feet, and once she does she glances at the clock. She groans. Midnight. Great. She thinks, rolling her eyes.

There's another knock, more anxious and loud now. "Hold on!" she shouts, using the furniture to keep her steady as she walks towards the banging.

Her head falls back against her neck when she sees Dean through the peephole. She lets out a soft, quiet breath and brings her head back up, resting her forehead in her hand. Her eyes close tight and she debates whether or not to let him in. He knocks again, more aggressively now.

She growls, shaking her hands out next to her. Suddenly, her ears ring and she swears she could even hear the buzzing of the lights above her. She takes another deep breath as she slowly unlocks the chain. She moves down to unlock the door, and then rests her hand on the door knob for a moment.

With a hand on her hip, she whips the door open and tries to make it very clear to Dean that she's pissed, but damnit she'd be lying if she said she wasn't excited to see him.

"Y/N! Thank you, I am so sorry!" he says, holding up his hands. There’s a slight bend to his knees as if to make him appear smaller. His eyebrows furrow, enhancing the shallow wrinkles on his forehead. She knows he's just going to feed her another story, and she stopped believing them a while ago, but she'd rather hear his lies than to have to hear him say goodbye.

So she says nothing, but leaves the door open as she turns around to walk back to her living room. He rushes in after her, closing the door behind him. When she plops onto the couch, he drops next to her, hands on her knees as he faces her.

"Y/N, please let me explain," he pleads, and she shrugs for him to go ahead, "I was shooting the shit with the guys at this bar, and," he starts.

"Let me guess, 'time just slipped away from you', right?" Y/N scoffs, her cheeks and jaw tighten as she fights the tears that plead to be released.

His face relaxes, and he swallows hard before allowing his mouth to hang open slightly. "Yeah," he says softly.

"You know, Dean," she says, and he focuses intently on her face, lit partially by the TV. His eyes flutter between hers, the way the light glimmers in her eyes nearly distracts him from her words, "you're starting to get repetitive," she says, eyes trained to the floor.

His body tenses, and his lips form a flat line. "Yeah," he nods. "I know. And I’m sorry," he says.

There's a long pause between them as she collects her conflicted thoughts; on the one hand, better late than never but on the other, she knows he's lying and that kind of pain cuts deep.

"Are you?" she squeaks out before she can stop herself, eyes darting at him. "Cause you say you were out with friends, but I know you were with another girl."

"What are you talking about,Y/N?" he says, eyes squinting. “I’m only seeing you.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, heat filling her chest, "I checked your location, but good fucking try." She takes in a deep breath. "I don't wanna fight, Dean," she slurs, "can we just lay down?"

Dean pushes his hands onto his thighs to bring himself to his feet, looking down at her for a moment before holding his hand out to her.

"Come on," he says gingerly. When she places her hand in his, he helps her to her feet, "get your shoes on," he adds.

"What? Why?" she asks, wide eyes.

With raised eyebrows, he sighs, "because I wanna show you something."

----

Y/N sits in the passenger seat of Dean's Impala with her arms crossed for the entirety of their near silent drive. She watches the window fog as Dean slows to round the corner of the motel parking lot.

"This where you saw me? My location?" he asks.

Uncrossing her arms, Y/N winds around in the seat to look for the strip club, falling back in her seat when she spots it, "yup."

Turning off the engine, he rolls out of the car and jogs to her side to help her out. Dean guides her to the door and Y/N feels like her heart could jump out of her chest. She listens to the howl of the wind as he inserts the key. When he opens the door, she immediately sees a tall, dark haired man in the room. Confused, she looks over at Dean.

"This is my brother, Sam," he says quickly, placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her into the room. "And, uh," he closes the door behind him, quickly raising his eyebrows at Sam's perplexed expression. "We have a pretty… ridiculous job," he adds.

She squints one eye, "Yeah, I remember you telling me that, but you wouldn't tell me what the job is," she snaps.

"Yeah," Sam says, shutting his book with one hand, holding the other out with a finger pointed at his brother, "and for good reason.” Dean brushes him off with a wave of his hand. "Dean, what are you doing?" Sam forces a quick, curt smile at Y/N, and takes a few steps closer to him, "can I talk to you? Outside," he says through gritted teeth.

Dean turns the corners of his lips down and shakes his head. He couldn't bear to see Y/N as hurt as she was tonight, and knowing that it was because of him and his lies made him realize he needed to come clean. And if that meant she thought he was crazy and never wanted to see him again, well... at least she would finally have the truth.

Taking her hands in his, he guides her to the bed and gestures for her to sit. He glances over at Sam, who utters under his breath "this better be worth it." Dean shrugs before sitting on the bed across from her, ignoring its whine under his weight.

"Listen Y/N, the truth is that Sam and I are-" he stops, shaking his head as he looks down into his folded hands. The leaky faucet from the bathroom drips a few times before he carries on, "listen, this is gonna sound nuts, so I need you to just... just hear me out, please."

She nods, "okay..."

He lets out a shaky breath, "ghosts, demons, vampires... it's all real," he begins, watching her face carefully for any signs of disgust or fear, "and the short story is that Sam and I... we, uh... we hunt and kill them."

Y/N's silent for a while, not exactly sure how to take this so-called confession. As far as she's concerned it's yet another lie. She glances over at Sam and he looks down at the ground, his face scrunched in a frown.

"Is this true?" she asks Sam, and his eyes dart at Dean and then her.

He brings a hand to his mouth, sweeping it down and around his bottom lip. He sighs, throwing his hands out and sits on the bed next to Dean. "Yeah, 'fraid so," he says.

Turning her attention to Dean now, she says, "so... what, you drive around the country fighting bad guys with your brother like some fucking superhero and come into my town when you want... what, a good fuck or something?"

Dean scoots closer to Y/N, grabbing her hands in his, "no, no, no. It's nothing like that," he pauses, "I mean, we do drive around the country ‘fighting bad guys’, I guess but..." he stalls again, trying to find the right words.

"Well, what is it like, then? Because this feels like it’s either an elaborate way of trying to get rid of me, or you're trying to manipulate me into being okay with the way things have been so far. And I'm not. I need someone who's going to show up on time. Someone who won't lie to me."

"I swear to you, the lies are over," Dean pleads. "At least let me prove it to you."

"How? How're you gonna do that?" Y/N asks, arms crossed.

Dean glances at Sam, begging for his help with his eyes. Sam rolls his eyes, boots clacking against the hardwood floor as he walks over to grab the book he'd been reading.

He takes it to sit back down with Dean and Y/N. He flips the book around to show Y/N the page he was on, and his voice echoes in the room as he explains the monster they're hunting and how it's about an hour south of her town, but Dean wanted to stop by to see Y/N first.

Y/N's hesitant, but not willing to lose Dean, not yet, so she takes the chance. "You're not in the clear yet, Dean, but I'm tired and I just wanna go to bed. Can I sleep here and we'll figure the rest out in the morning?"

"Yeah, of course," he says, bringing himself to his feet, "uh, you can take my bed and I'll sleep on the couch."

"No. If you're gonna lie, at least do it in the bed."

~~~

If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

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#dean winchester #reader x dean winchester #female reader x dean #supernatural #supernatural fic #dean winchester angst #spn #supernatural fandom #supernatural fan fic #fanfic #dean angst #3rd person pov

[literally-noone83]

Supernatural Headcanons: Receiving Affection (1/?)

About: female!reader×platonic!everyone, teenage/young adult reader, reader's love language is touch: hugging, hanging off the boys' shoulders, falling asleep on their shoulders and the like :) just wholesome things (with some angst).

Word count: It's a long a one...

Warning: Angst, Shouting, other than that it's just fluffy :)

A/n: This reallt isnt a head cannon tbh. Started with an idea, created an OC then a background and then and then and then — it spiralled into this mess haha.

I meant to go further - provide that conclusion to create a holistic narrative... but it's already really long and atm felt uninspired to keep going with it. So we wait, sorry !

Welp, enjoy!

Let's imagine your love language is touch. The crave and the lingering need to touch, hug, lean on, hold onto someone, some one you felt safe around and loved by was a instinct you've always had.

Surrounding yourself with some of the most emotionally stunted and constipated people — emotionally unavailable car, pie and ACDC loving hunter, his emotionally neglected brother and monotonous 'I don't understand the reason for handholds if you're not lost' angel boyfriend — your touchy feely nature was met half-heartedly.

Given the moment you first met them was amidst a series of tumultuously devastating events — one easy case turned bad, the loss of family was never easy on a adolescent. And for the most part that's all you were to them. Another poor young soul caught up in the cusp of a terrifying world Dean and Sam intended to protect. To save. It never came without consequence — it's just this time in came in the form of a teenager, tear stained and alone.

Dead of night, once the vampires who took your mother and little brother were resolved with a few knife swings and burning bullets — it was the embrace Sam offered that changed things.

You needed it. Solace, comfort. Something to keep you grounded.

The Winchesters would do more than offer a hug. Decisions and shots were called, arguments sure did occure — another mouth to feed, a head to look out for — but in the end life kept moving and this was all you had left; a reason, an opportunity, to help.

A Winchester. You were the rookie who could barely hold a gun. Then you were the amature that fought to fight; snooping for cases, sneaking out for a chance to shoot and to prove you can contribute. Couple years fly by and now you're family.

So many night spent trading stories, on the stupid shit Dean pulled and Sam moments of pubescent embarrassment among the pockets of normal school life, or your gems of memory with your mother you missed and a brother you had teased. The banter was rich on both ends — most prominently with Dean. It was just so easy. A grumpy old man who dished out the rules and stomped around with that voice of his — you couldn't help yourself.

*in Dean's voice* "Its too dangerous, me macho man will take care of it" *normal voice* "y'know I didn't realise you were one grey hair away from being my father..."

He lets out a humorless laugh, rubbing his chin and gesturing to you at Sam. "She thinks shes funny huh? youre real comedian— thats it!"

He chases you down the bunker and you run away. Deans yelling and your laughter ringing behind Sam.

Sam truly was enjoying to have someone on his side — till at times he wasn't so lucky. You and Dean were a little too powerful once you joined arms...

Amidst this new found family, Dean and Sam quickly noticed how much you liked to hug them... almost clingy.

Granted, it wasn't like you smothered everyone who walked into your life — with Dean and Sam it was different. They saved you, welcomed you, took care of you. You trusted them.

It qas noticeable during the early days of your stay. After long hunts when you were left behind, in security of the bunker, those hours felt like days and days felt like years. Crippling fear of losing the only formed tether of family and safety frightened you.

The moment the door clicked open, "Hey, Y/n, we're back," a bag of take out ready and jackets being torn off in lethargic movements of a day's struggle, "got some burgers and those curly fries as remembered and—"

Frantic steps and a leap, Dean was almost knocked down by the force of your hug. Wrapped around his neck, face buried in his collar. "Woah there, Kid." He stumbled and huffed from the suddenness.

"Y/n? you ok?" Sam asked at your long passing moments in embrace. Words of gladness and "Thank god"s poured from your lips, stepping back to look at how they're really here. Alive. Safe. The brothers noted it was probably because of your family — you were dealing and I think they are one of few people who could really understand that.

However, this passing moment became everytime. They'd come home and you'd hug them briefly. Once you were coming with them than waiting patiently, you'd embrace them before bed.

Huddled around the table, Sam reading, Dean nursing a cold beer whilst flipping through a magazine as you ate and prompted Dean into weird topics of 'never have I ever - monster edition'. You'd bid yourself adue.

"I'm gonna hit the sack, weirdos." You'd walk around to them. "Enjoy your light reading, Sammy. And enjoy your pervy magazine, old man." Passing by, wrapping your arm their shoulders, affectionately nudging cheeks with them — Sam would accept them graciously, the loving gesture comforting to him. And Dean would simply hum at you, trying his best to look indifferent or exasperated by such contact. But you knew he silently enjoyed them, and Sam did especially; knowing his older brother, the boundary of affection was never crossed but from you — a semblance of a younger sister — was soothed but this entry of comfort. Shoulders slacked, posture less tense, you were a reminder of everything was okay.

"Now get off me - you need a shower."

When Castiel was around it, too, didn't take long before he was another victim to your embraces. Seeing how close Cas was to Dean and Sam, it meant he was good.

Late night car rides, slumped against the worn leather of Baby as the soft rock channel hummed alongside the murmuring engine pushing the hunters and a angel home. The orange street light continuously ran over their laps, exhaustion lingered in the vehicle — Dean's raw red knuckles were prominent, wrapped around the steering wheel. Sam sported a scrape on his cheek bone, exchanging hushed words between his brother and Castiel. Sat in the back with Cas, you couldn't bother chipping on the discussion. The headache you endured only just subsided, with just a bruise that ached at your side, both the dull music and gentle voices did well to block it. Soothing you into a lul.

"Someone's uncharacteristically quiet..." Sam humoured. The two shared a peak through the review mirror to catch your heavy eyes and tilting head you struggled to hold up. Dean couldn't help but smirk, chuckling under his breath at your disgruntled hum towards Sam.

"It's a nice change," he joked.

"Dean," Cas warned, glancing attentively to you, "She did a lot today."

"Yea... she did." He said silently proud. Of course she did.

Moments passed and next thing you know, Cas felt your held fall on his shoulder. Almost surprised, he didn't move an inch. Tossing and turning, laying on him finally made you settle. Staring down at you, he was glad to see you sleep — you took too many nights to sitting on thay laptop keen that every minute need not be wasted. And so he laid back a bit more comfortably, mindful on how much he moved. He understood, humans needed their rest.

Dean couldn't help but find it endearing.

The boys did their best to revieve your affection in stride. Cas was always naturally stiff when you slung your arm over his shoulders. Dean tried his best to act annoyed when you attack hug him from behind, and awkwardly patting your back. Sam never minded the time you'd sit beside him, leaning against his larger stature while he read or researched.

Then Jack showed up. Between losing Mary, Crowley, the fright of Cas' death and so much more — times weren't the easiest. Lucifer's son, the premeditated anti-christ that was the cease all life and goodness, the first day of getting to know Jack was a rocky path. While Sam continuously sympathised the young man and Dean couldn't even look at him, you remained initially indifferent. Just like your brothers, you were scared more than anything, grieving over the losses especially Cas — you didn't know what to think but you did know they needed you.

Jack noticed how you kept wrapping your arms around them every time you left off to somewhere or twist your twist your face into something warm at the much angrier man. It was so peculiar to him that he asked Sam when they were in the cellar, "why does she do that?"

"What?"

A look of seriousness worried Sam, "Do that - hold him. Dean." And he looked at him confused.

"You mean— she hugging him." Jack's face didn't change, "she's embraced him because she's worried about him," it sounded more like a question as he mimicked the gesture, "you embrace someone when you want to comfort them, or show them affection."

"'affection'?"

"It's means to show care for someone."

Jack looks at him, "She does it a lot." He noted.

Sam omitted a breathy laugh, "Yea. She does - she cares a lot, I suppose."

Soon your apprehension grew to empathy for the nephillum. His innocence and innate kindness baffled you at times. He borne no essence of evil - he rather carried Kelly's sweetness, and a fear that made you realise that Jack was far from anything like his father. He was just Jack.

The realisation settled within you as you sat on that crate where your breath transpired in the cold, facing Jack curled up beside the dumpster. Large shadows drew over his furrowed brows, deep with sadness and hurt as he said, "Maybe I'm not worth all this". Your heart sunk. All alone without the comfort of his mother and guidance of the angel she promised, made to feel like he was something he wasn't — worthless.

"Stop." The words escaped your lips faster than you could think and he stared at you saddened. "Don't..." You hesitated, too many things you want to say and you settle with reaching out a gentle hand. "Can I please uhm..." Jack slightly confused gave his hand at your hushed question. And he was surprised by your warm and firm grip; holding his palm with your other hand instantly clasping over his knuckles, you told him "Jack, you are worth all this..." staring intently into his eyes. "Sam thinks your worth it, so did Castiel, your mother. And so do I."

His eyes softened, and a small smile slipped onto your lips. Hope seeping into his features, he asked, "Really?"

"Really." You said.

That night you shared a room with Jack, agreeing with Sam things were too tense with Dean. You'd continue to be at Jack's side, speaking to him, answering his questions, simply being with Jack whilst mediating your brothers. Meaning, your constant defense of Jack caused a constant bickering and arguing with Dean. Unlike Sam the Diplomat, you two were almost explosive. Dean hated how close you'd stick by that thing, that freak; he was dangerous, he could hurt you! And you hated Dean's merciless disdain for him — always throwing warnings at the names and disregarding statements Dean would say without a thought with Jack.

At times, when Sam was with Jack, the moment he'd leave you and the eldest alone, stiff muttering of words escalated into loud yelling. Seething at each other until your red faced. Sam would always have to intervene, assuring Jack they're just "hot headed".

This anger festered into Dean's asserting orders; regulations, rules, reprimanding of your interactions with Jack. You were holding Jack's hand cause he seemed nervous, Dean would explicitly say no handing holding with devils. Alone in a room with him on an off chance again? Dean's dragging you out on errands or telling you to go to your room. Walking around the table offering your bidding night hugs, your affectionate squeeze on Jack's shoulder earned a warning glare from Dean.

You always made a face back, countering his overprotective as overbearing and stupid. When you finally had a go at him for it, Sam was out and there was nothing holding them back. You both pushed at each other to your limits. Comparing Jack to you when you some kid helpless and alone too, or Sam deemed bad before he could do any good, really sent Dean down the rails — because you're family. Jack is Lucifer's son, not you.

"Does he look like Lucifer's son to you, Dean?! He does nothing but be kind, gentle. He listens to your orders, he's even terrified of you!"

"And so he should be!" His voice booms with anger you hadn't heard from Dean till now and it shakes you. "You think I care that he can smile nicely at you, and say 'thank you' and 'sorry'? That doesn't matter. Cas is gone because of him, Mum is gone because of him. Wake up, Y/n, he can't change what he is and what he is, is a freak, an inevitable danger to you, to us, this entire freaking world- I'm sorry youre too damn stupid and niave to realise that." His starn, harsh words push past his lips in a burst of thoughts that seemed like he's been holding in forever, and he has to lean back for a moment to sigh. You stood there without moving, your eye glisten against your will as you swallow his words. He paused before turning to walk away without another word — the knife sunk a little deeper.

"I know you're hurting, Dean," your voice went small, and you caught him mid step. "but you're not the only one." His face grew sullen: he was too angry, too tired. He hadn't the energy to say or do something. Looking at you, he noticed your quivering lip you tried so hard to hide and instantly in his eyes you reverted back into that small 14 year old girl he and Sam decided to take under their wing. An image that flashed by and then you were walking away. To the other side of the bunker. And after a few heart beats, he did too.

Without either of you knowing, Jack had heard the entire altercation. Your purposeful steps rushed past him and you didn't see him — too busy fiercely wiping away escaping hot tears you didn't want. Jack had never seen you this upset and quietly he followed you to your room. He heard you slam the door shut and heard you sniffle inside. Hesitant he slowly cracked the door open to see your back facing towards him, sat on the edge of your unmade bed, silently crying.

A sensation of sorrowful guilt imbued in the centre of his chest. This was his fault wasn't it?

"Y/n?" His sudden appearance finally made known surprises you and you whip around. "Jack," your voice is thick with emotions, harshly sniffed back as your wiped your cheeks several times. "What are you..." You took a deep breath. Seeing his worried eyes you realised your attempt to appear unphased and normal was feeble — your eyes were puffy, flushed cheeks and red nose. And then it hit you, "I'm sorry, Jack. Sorry you had to hear that it's just, he's just..." you lett your hands fall to your lap defeatedly and head hung low. You looked him and flashed a weak smile, "Don't worry," Jack moved to sit on your bed, "It's just everything's a bit weird."

"I'm sorry." He finally said simply.

"What? Jack-"

"I'm sorry," he looked at you with those same eyes that night. "that you, Dean and Sam are hurting - because of me."

You shook your head, "No, no Jack, you have done nothing wrong, we're fine. We will work this out-"

"But you are crying, you are upset."

"I'm fine, Jack, don't-"

"Why are you lying?" He places a hand over yours, catching your evasive and scattered gaze. He pulls you to a halt, forcing you to meeting his big attentive eyes. They were so kind and gentle. And the warm of his hand stopped your racing heart. "You can tell me." He said softly and such simple words crashes over you. Your eyes locked onto his, you let silence hang in between as you soaked in this blooming comfort from someone you least expected it. It was overwhelming. And the longer you looked at him, all thoughts and emotions started to feel too real, too much, and your eyed began to well up in tears. Trying to blink them away made them fall faster and your gaze fell to his hand. "I- I'm sorry."

Your voice cracked and your instinctively tried to cover your face; to hide from Jack which you were sure you were confusing him even more with your immense and sudden outpour of emotions. You muttered your apologies, intending to turn to avoid overwhelming him further until the mattress dipped this way and there and a pair of arms embraced you. The foreign feeling of his body against yours made you hold your breath for a second — digesting the unexpected gesture of comfort from Jack and one that you didn't know you needed.

He held you firmly, his head tucked beside yours, eyes scrunched tight as if desperate to make you feel better. Seconds pass before you relent into his touch, wrapping your arms around his neck and burrying yourself away into the nape of his neck. And Jack squeezed you a little tighter.

You and Jack would stay like that for a while. Until your quiet sobs muffled into his shirt quietened down to weak sniffles and your arms loosened, feeling yourself wafting into sleep.

Once Sam came home from his grocery run, he was met by the unsuaul silence and brooding Dean who fixing himself a sandwich.

"Dean, I literally went shopping to cook now why are you-"

"'s not for me." He finished it before pushing it towards Sam, "Mind giving this to Y/n?" It was hardly a question.

The way his brother barely looked at him leaning back with a drink, and the sullenness of his voice, Sam knew something must've happened, "...And why can't you do that?"

"I don't think she's in the mood to talk to be right about now."

Sam walked up to your door, sick with worry and anger to hear what had gone down between you and Dean. The steam from yet another argument with Dean came to a simmer seeing your door not locked but left ajar. He slowed, softly calling out "Y/n?" coming closer he heard not only your soft snores he knew well after years but another's.

Entering he stopped — there you were deep in slumber. And in the arms of the nephilum. Your head lay in the croock of his neck, arms loosely fallen across his torso while his around your shoulders. Sam noted your red eyes and nose, stains of tears that revealed the severity of this argument with Dean had a toll on you. It pained his heart yet seeing Jack with you overturned such hurt — he comforted you. A cosmic being does not need sleep yet Jack visibly chose to rest with you — to show you he cared too. However it there was no doubt you had fallen asleep on him first — a sign of your trust.

The two of you have connected, and Sam quietly left, clicking the door shut with a relief and no plan on letting his older brother know about this.

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jack kline #fluff #fanfic #fluffy headcannons #reader x dean winchester #reader x sam winchester #reader x castiel #reader x jack kline #platonic #i should be studying #haha

[french-vanilla-in-the-clouds]

𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

Dean Winchester x Witch! Reader

Summary: Tonight, Dean and Y/N must face off despite their past history as lovers. Though Dean is hesitant to destroy their relationship, Y/N is a bit too eager...

Lovers to Enemies, lingering feelings... ANGST!

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Dean gripped the steering wheel until the leather burned his skin. He craved the sharp sensation. He ached for control. He stayed seated in the car, his eyes locked on the house across the street. Sam waited diligently, not daring to interrupt his brother's focus.

Finally, the lights to the house flashed, brightening up the darkened street. Sam shuffled in his seat. "She's here," he said. "Maybe I should-"

"No."

Dean's eyes blazed as a silhouette passed by a window. "Stay here, Sammy," he said. "This is my mess to clean up." He snatched a gun from the backseat and stepped out. His boots slapped across the damp sidewalk, but he made no attempt to mute the sound. Stealth wasn't a concern on this hunt. The monster being hunted was expecting his arrival.

The beating of his heart quickened with every step. What once was love had turned to hate, and a cold numbness overtook his senses. He matched his steady breaths to the pace of his movement, finding small comfort in the rhythm.

He reached the front of the house and gripped the door handle. Sam's hidden gaze sent shivers down his back. Memories shot through his mind. He saw kind eyes, hurried kisses, and heated moments.

He saw the woman that he loved.

He saw the woman who had never loved him back.

Dean grazed the gun on his belt, twisted the door handle, and entered the house.

Tonight, he would kill a part of himself.

***

Y/N stood before the mirror and appraised herself. She beamed at the face looking back.

"Beautiful," she whispered. "A prickled rose." She peeked out the gossamer curtain over her window. A sleek black car was parked beneath the shade of a tree. A shadow of a man stared back at her from behind the windshield. He seemed tense. He was only a vague impression in the darkness, but Y/N could sense rage and heartache in his stance.

"Oh Dean," she breathed. "You never stood a chance." She watched as the man stepped out of the car, his movements ragged and unsure. For a moment, her eyes burned as trapped sentiment tried to break free. Dean was the only man she had ever cared for. With him, things had been different. Y/N had tasted the joys of humanity in their brief time together, and learned to appreciate the affairs of the heart.

She watched as he approached her doorstep. Suddenly, his gaze hardened. Y/N scolded herself for having almost been distracted by an ordinary man. Dean was just a means to an end. The coven demanded blood. Death for admittance. Y/N's killing of the legendary Winchester would serve as the ultimate sacrifice to join the most powerful witches of the underworld.

Killing him had been her plan all along. She just hadn't expected to fall so hard.

Y/N bit back any second thoughts. Dean Winchester was a hunter and nothing more. She was a sorceress. A Queen amongst men. She had no time for love.

She straightened herself and stood poised by the front door. She would choose influence over sentiment. Power over love. Dean wouldn't stand a chance.

Tonight, she would kill the hunter.

***

Dean twisted the handle and let the door fall back with a groan. He stepped inside and found Y/N waiting for him across the hall.

"Hey there," she said. "Couldn't stay away?"

He stared back with tired eyes. "Don't do that. Don't turn this into a joke."

"Just trying to lighten the mood. However this ends, it'll be the end of the two of us."

"Hell of a breakup," Dean scoffed.

Flicking her wrist, Y/N shut the door behind Dean with a smash. He looked over his shoulder. "So it's true," he said. "You're really the Witch who's been killing all those people."

"That's right, Dean. The coven demands blood for entrance. Call it a subscription fee."

"Well, call this a penalty," Dean said. He gripped the gun from his belt and aimed it at her. His hand trembled as doubt flooded his mind. Y/N stood smiling before him, just as he remembered. She still burned bright in his heart. How could he dim the only light in his life?

Y/N's smile grew along with Dean's hesitance. "A gun? Dean honey, you know that won't hurt me."

Dean saw no affliction in Y/N's eyes. Her expression was one of detached amusement. He suddenly realized what he meant to her.

Nothing.

"You're in for a surprise, doll," Dean whispered. He closed his eyes, and tensed. His sweat felt tacky against the trigger. He held his breath and aimed the weapon at its mark.

Dean shot the round.

Y/N felt the bullet pierce her flesh. Dean's aim was true and left a singed hole in her chest. "Ordinary bullets can't kill me!" she cried out with a laugh. "Now let's see how you do against my magic." Y/N aimed a curled finger at Dean. "Aviata Ventura!" she hissed. She waited a moment for her magic's effect, but nothing came.

"It didn't have to go down this way," Dean said. His lips were drawn in a grim line, and his eyes flashed with a suppressed pain that Y/N knew all too well. "I never wanted this."

Y/N felt a sudden weakness in her knees, and fell against the room's back wall. She scaled her hands over the smooth surface. A crimson pattern spread across her torso. "This isn't possible..." she muttered. "How did you-"

She didn't need to finish the sentence. When she looked into Dean's eyes, her answer glared back. "Witch killing bullets?" she asked, weakly.

He nodded gravely and clicked the safety of his firearm.

Y/N fell to the ground, her back against the wall. She felt her strength fizzle. "Well done, Winchester," she gasped. "I've gotta hand it to you, that was nicely played."

Dean lowered himself on one knee, and looked into Y/N's eyes."You killed all those people," he said. "So many innocent lives dead at your hands. And for what? Was it really necessary?"

Y/N reflected on the question while she studied Dean's face. He was a hero, she knew that much to be true. Dean Winchester was a savior and a fighter. After having been so close to the white knight, Y/N expected to feel remorse in her final moments. She could feel her life slipping away and thought perhaps she would experience repentance before her final breath.

Perhaps Dean Winchester would awaken the compassion within her. She thought hard on the idea...

He hadn't.

A trickle of blood ran down her lip and she swiped it away before squeezing Dean's hand. "No, I guess you're right," she grinned. "The killings weren't necessary...

She leaned in close to whisper in his ear. "But they were fun..."

Dean felt Y/N's hold slacken. He pulled back and lay her down on the floor. Suddenly, the room seemed bleaker. He studied her face, but couldn't see the person he had been fooled into loving. The woman lying on the floor was a stranger to him. Just another face in the crowd, another monster on the rack. The once vivid memories of their shortened bliss turned grey, cheapened by her betrayal.

Dean wanted to feel anguish. He wanted to feel the world crumble around him, but he couldn't. Pain was an old friend. This was just another hit that he would have to shake off.

"Another day gone by," he whispered.

He stood up and walked towards the door. He could feel Y/N behind him, her silence burning through the air. He thought about sparing one last glance over his shoulder. Capturing one last memory...

Dean locked the door behind him and didn't look back.

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Try Reading Moonlight Sonata!!!

I think this is my last angsty Dean fic for a while... time to show HIM SOME FLUFFY LOVE!!!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

HAVE A BRILLIANT DAY!!

Tagging the wicked: @the-chaotic-cow @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @adaydreamaway08 @stitchintimefan @andthevillainshallrises @justyourlocalwhore @waiting-for-cas-to-save-me @leigh70 @cookiemumster1 @uncompletemasterpiece  @eliwinchester99 ​

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester angst #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural angst #dean x reader #reader x dean #dean winchester x reader #reader x dean winchester #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x you #spn #spn fic #witch! reader #dean winchester x witch!reader #dean fic #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fluff #fanfiction #supernatural fic

[andthevillainshallrises]

The missing hunter

Winchesters x reader // y/n x Winchesters brothers // y/n x Dean

Summary: All that y/n knows about life is chasing the supernatural. Y/n spent her life hunting after learning from the best during her youth. But now it has been weeks since Bobby has heard from her. Worried about the fate of his protégée, he sends the Winchester brothers to look for her. But what they don't expect is to see a figure from the past reappear. Will they find her and put a name on this strange familiar face?

Note: this fanfic takes place in the early years of the show since i’m only on season 8. I really like the vibe of the three first seasons. That’s also why Sam can’t crack the security camera– they haven't learned that yet :) tbh i don't really know where i'm going with this, so if you have any ideas/request go ahead ^^ (this will probably be like Dean x reader kinda fanfic ;)) also note that this is my first fanfic and that english is not my main language :) i also want to thanks @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds for doing such a good job at proof reading, it really helped me! Thank you <3 go check her blog guys, because what she writes is always a blast to read!

words count: 2k

tw: blood, swearing, mention of a gun

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“I don’t know what to say, Bobby,” Dean declared to the man at the other end of the phone.

The brothers were in a motel room in the middle of nowhere. Bobby had sent them there to find someone dear to him that disappeared a few weeks ago. But so far, they had no lead.

“Her stuff is still in the room, uh?”

Dean turned around from the parking lot to take another look at the small place. “Yeah, still here.”

There was silence and then Bobby’s voice broke through the phone’s speaker.

“That’s not like her. She might be in some kind of trouble.”

A frown appeared on Dean’s face. He'd never heard Bobby sound so helpless. That person, that woman whoever she was, must be someone precious to him.

“What do you want us to do?”

Sam was seated on the single large bed in the room, his laptop on his knees, fidgeting with the keyboard.

“I’ll give you her number. Maybe she’ll answer if it’s not me.” The pain in those last words made Dean sad. Who was she for Bobby to care so much and act like this?

Dean hung up, closed the door and walked toward Sam.

“What’d he say?”

“To try to call her.”

The look on Dean and Sam’s face said it all. They were aware the worst could have happened. Dean dialed the number and waited a few seconds before a ringtone was heard in the room. The two of them released a small sigh, stood up and searched for the device. The eldest found it under the bed, the battery almost dead and the screen cracked in half. He held it up for Sammy to see, and they both exchanged a look. Something bad definitely happened here.

They decided to go back to town and retrace every last step of the missing person. It led them to a bar on the avenue. A row of motorcycles were parked in front of the establishment, and the facade was all dark wood which added to the pouring rain and gloomy atmosphere. Everything in this town is dark and creepy, Dean thought.

They entered and were welcomed by suspicious glares from guys all around the place. Some were seated at tables drinking beer , others were playing billiards but stopped the moment the brothers appeared. The bartender shot them a look of annoyance. Clearly the people here didn't like strangers.

Nonetheless, Sam cleared his throat and asked, "Um, hi. We're looking for a young woman.”

"So am I." said a voice somewhere and the other men laughed.

Dean felt exasperated by their behavior and wanted only one thing at the moment: to get the hell out of there. So he talked, a bit too abruptly maybe. "She has a scary stare, brown hair, pale skin, and approximately this size," he measured by holding up a hand. Truly he didn't know the woman, but Bobby gave them a description since he had no recent pictures of her.

The bartender snorted noisily and kept swiping off drops of water on the beer mugs in his hands.

"Depends what I get for helping you?"

There was no cooperation, and the Winchesters started to lose patience.

"Listen, buddy, it's a life or death situation here. She might be in danger, we need to find her." Dean's voice was low and raw, he could barely control himself not to punch the man in the face.

He slightly opened his brown leather jacket and in his hand appeared a shiny silver gun, its handle as white as ivory. The barman repressed an insult and took a quick look around.

“Look, if i were you, i wouldn’t show this to anyone here.” “Question of life and death.” he added pointedly to mock the brothers.

His sarcastic tone did not escape Dean, whose gaze became sharper, harder. Finally the man behind the bar started saying something interesting.

“There aren’t a lot of women comin’ in here, so yeah i remember some chick comin’ in. She sat at the bar and drank a scotch.”

Sam leaned forward, “Anything else?”. The man grunted but continued. “There was something weird about her, like she was on edge. She was constantly looking behind her shoulder.” He put the glass behind the bar and leaned on the counter, then added “I mean maybe she didn’t feel safe here since she was the only woman.”

“Did something happen? Did she leave with someone?” Dean pressed, raising his eyebrows.

The barman seemed to think for a moment. “Yup, I think I remember her leaving with some guys.”

“Anything weird or unusual about the guys?”

“One of 'em was grabbing her by the arm. Not in a gentle way, you know. It seemed she wasn't willing to go with them.”

“And you didn’t call the police or stop them?” asked Sam almost with a shocked tone.

“Why would I? She didn't scream for help”

Dean's patience was more than thin now. If he stayed one more minute he would definitely shoot the man right here, right now. “Alright, enough. let’s go Sammy.”

“Wait,” Sam said, “which direction did they take?” The barman didn’t even bother speaking, and just pointed the way with his head.

And so they strode out of the bar toward the Impala, in the light rain that hadn’t stopped since their arrival. The sky was darker “Oh I swear this rain is making me crazy. Everything about this town is weird, man.” Dean muttered, his hands on the wheel, driving the car out of the parking back on the road. Since there was nothing for miles in the direction the man had indicated, they decided to go back to the motel room and wait in the car in case she showed up.

Sammy also tried to take a look at the security camera, but his skills with a laptop weren’t that sophisticated.  He couldn’t break into the town website to access the cameras. So they waited. Dean eventually went out to fetch dinner, and they waited for hours.

Finally, when they were both struggling to keep their eyes open, a silhouette appeared. In the dark night it was impossible to guess who it was, but the stranger stopped at the door of the room they were watching, and after a moment struggling with the key, the shadowy silhouette disappeared silently inside the room. The Winchesters didn’t waste a second and got out of the car toward the room’s door as if they weren’t about to fall asleep a second ago.

The sky was free of the heavy clouds of the day, letting the stars shine. The door wasn’t locked from the inside, so they pushed it slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible because who knows who was- or what was, that silhouette.

The boys entered the small room slowly, guns in hands. The lights were on but the place was empty. A noise came out from the bathroom followed by a grunt. At the very moment the brothers appeared at the bathroom’s door, the silhouette turned around and held a gun at them.

“Drop the gun! Now!”

"You, drop the gun!"

“Who are you?”

“You, who are you?”

The three of them pointing guns at each other and yelling in confusion would’ve been a funny image if the tension was not that palpable and if the stranger was in a less miserable state.

“You’re two against one, that’s not really fair.” The voice was calm and steady but felt a bit out of breath. Indeed, the silhouette was soaked in blood, her clothes dirty with mud and rain. Her hair was a mess, clearly she hadn’t had access to any commodities for a few days.

“Wait,” said Sam, “are you y/n?”

Suspicious, the woman kept the boys at gunpoint, clutching her weapon like a lifeline. “How would you know?” she asked, her brows furrowed and her chest heavy with short breaths.

Sam released a small, almost unintelligible sigh, “Dean, I think it’s her.” And with that assumption they both lowered their guns. “Bobby sent us looking for you.”

“Looking for me?” she asked, as if she hadn’t understood Sam’s sentence in the first place and needed confirmation of what she heard. But all of a sudden the world started to spin and she wasn’t steady on her feet anymore. She stumbled back against the sink and let her arm fall down by her side, the gun pointed toward the ground. She placed the back of her other bloodied hand against her forehead and closed her eyes tight, trying to make the room stop spinning and the white stars popping in her visions disappear.

“Hey, you alright?” Dean knew it was a stupid question considering how dirty and tired she seemed, so he added, “you hurt?”

And all y/n was capable of doing at this very moment was to stare at the two boys in front of her, her memory working like a DVD on fast forward. She couldn’t stop. Maybe didn’t want to, because her brain brought back memories she thought were long forgotten. She doubted they even remembered her at all, and at that thought her heart skipped a beat.

“Hello? Anyone in here?” Dean pressed sarcastically, like he was talking to some stupid teenager.

Getting back her senses, y/n cleared her throat and articulated a week “yeah” that sounded more like an exhausted plea. The brothers didn’t seem to buy it either, judging by the concerned look they both shot at her.

“Seriously, I'm fine. Just.. tired.”

“Where the hell were you to make Bobby worry-sick?”

What? Y/n almost choked on her own saliva. Bobby Singer being so worried he’d send John’s boys after her? Why would he do such a thing when she’s already proved numerous times she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself? And suddenly emotions flooded in her. Not good emotions. “Why are you here? I’m a grown up, I can watch out for myself. I’ve been hunting my whole life y’know.” The words came out more harshly than she’s intended to. Her anger palpable in the confined air of the small place. She stormed out of the bathroom, bumping into the boys, barely suppressing a wince because of her bruises and cuts.

In her backpack was a first aid kit. She took it and sat on the bed while taking off her dirty sweatshirt. But by the time she was opening the kit to fetch out something useful, Dean snatched it off her hands. “Hey! We’re talking to you here! We drove hours to come here because Bobby asked us to! Because he was worried you’d get yourself into trouble, and that’s how you’re thanking us?”

Dean was pissed. Sam though didn’t say a thing but gave his brother’s arm a slight hit. “Dude, c’mon. Look at her.” That’s what Dean did, he took in the messy states she was in. Blood on her left temple, trailing down her chin and neck, the right cheek looking slightly bruised. Cuts all over her arms and dirt on her hands and under her nails, even on her face. She seemed like someone who had just spent hours in filthy air ducts. Or in the forest running after something– or running for her life maybe.

No one said a word for what seemed to be an eternity, then y/n stood up slowly and walked back to the bathroom to try to wash out her hands, arms and face. A flash of sharp pain spread through her body every time she touched a cut or a bruise but she was determined not to let it show. She was facing John’s boys, and she knew by experience that there were little that could make them flinch. So she did what she always forced herself to do since she met them when they were only kids. She clenched her jaw, and kept her composure as neutral as she could– but she was so tired, the dark circles under her eyes said it all.

aannnd it's all for now ;) let me know what you think, if you've got ideas, requests..etc i'll happily take any advices u could give me as this is my first fanfic <3

part 2

#spn fanfic #spnfamily #spn famdom #fanfiction #dean x y/n #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #supernatural #dean x reader #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #reader x dean winchester #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #supernatural fanfiction

[imagineteamfreewill]

Spilt Soda Secrets

Title: Spilt Soda Secrets

Pairing: Personal Trainer!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,686

Warnings: Some low self-esteem moments and a few curse words, mostly fluff

Square Filled: Personal Trainer!Dean

Summary: The reader gets invited to a barbecue by her trainer, Dean.

A/N: This is a submission for the 2021-2022 SPN AU Bingo (@spnaubingo​). Thanks for reading and supporting me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics​.

You sat back in your seat, your hand still on the gearshift, and wondered if you should even bother turning off your car. Wouldn’t it be smarter to just go home? You’d probably misjudged Dean’s invitation anyway. The street was already packed with cars—he wouldn’t even notice that you didn’t come. Then again, you’d spent hours pouring over Pinterest, trying to find the perfect healthy recipe for the barbecue. Dean had said he’d take care of the food, but you didn’t want to be a bad guest, so you’d stressed yourself out for days over what to bring.

A knock on the window made you jump and Dean gave you a sheepish smile. “Sorry! You coming in?” he asked, his voice muffled by the glass and the music coming from behind the house.

Reluctantly, you nodded and hoped your nerves weren’t as obvious as you thought they were. You gathered up the bowl from the passenger seat and grabbed your phone, then carefully opened up the driver’s side door. Dean grabbed the handle from the outside and held it open for you.

“Thanks,” you said. Maybe if you didn’t talk a lot, he wouldn’t notice how nervous and out-of-place you felt.

Dean shrugged and closed the car door with one hand. He held a bag of ice with the other and he gestured towards the only house on the street that was teeming with people. Two stories tall with a double garage, it was clear that Dean’s business was doing just as well as it seemed to be. Even from across the street you could hear the music coming from the speakers and the dull roar of laughter and conversation.

“No problem. I just ran out to get ice and saw you sitting there. Thought we could walk in together,” he replied. “Safety in numbers and all that.”

You nodded and followed him across the street and onto the sidewalk, then up the driveway and around the side of the house. The gate stood open for you and Dean as you stepped onto the grass and made your way to the deck. A tall man with brown hair stood at the grill, looking down at the meat with a frown.

“You better not have messed up the burgers, Sammy!” Dean shouted over the music, and you jumped a little at the volume. Dean had a loud voice, but you’d never heard him truly shout, not even when he was pushing you to work harder at the gym.

The man at the grill turned and set the metal spatula down, looking surprisingly grateful for someone who’d just been yelled at. His face was pink with heat from the grill and the sun, but his smile held a different kind of warmth. Just looking at him made you feel just a little bit more at ease.

“I didn’t even touch them! I think they’re done, though. Who’s your friend?” he shouted back.

Dean didn’t even look back at you as he weaved through the crowd of people, leading you up the deck steps. “This is Y/N. She’s one of my clients.”

You forced a polite smile and tucked your phone underneath your arm so you could hold out a hand to shake, even as the other man briefly raised an eyebrow at Dean. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” you said.

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Sam, Dean’s brother,” he said. His grip on your hand was tight and his hand squished yours a little. Your smile started to crumble under the pressure when you finally pulled away. Sam and Dean exchanged a look and you shifted uncomfortably, moving to hold the bowl with both hands.

“Um, I brought a salad? It should probably go in the shade somewhere so the vegetables don’t get warm and mushy…” You glanced around the big backyard, looking for a food table somewhere. People crowded almost every inch of the grass, gathering around tables and lounging in camp chairs. A small group of kids splashed around in the pool while a smattering of teens sat on the edge with their feet in the water. That left the deck mostly free, but there was no food in sight. The only food-related items you could see were the long line of coolers pushed against the railing on the far side of the deck, each one labeled with a piece of duct tape to say what was inside.

That seemed to snap Dean out of the silent conversation he’d been having with his brother. Smiling, he put one hand on your elbow and guided you towards the sliding glass doors that led into the house.

“Side dishes are on the table inside, Y/N. Go find a space for the salad, I’ll come find you and try some after I’ve taken care of the ice and the burgers, okay?”

You nodded and walked inside without him, quietly approaching the table. The table was already laden with salads, trays of fruits and veggies, and packages of desserts, even though you’d arrived only a half hour after the start time Dean had given you. You hadn’t wanted to seem too eager.

A few women loitered around the kitchen area and one of them quickly caught your eye. She smiled warmly and set her drink down on the counter before crossing the room to greet you.

“Hi, I’m Charlie. You must be Y/N?” Surprised, you nodded. Your confusion must have been clear because her smile broadened and she laughed as she cleared a spot on the table for your bowl. “Dean and I throw this party every year, so I know everyone who’s invited. You’re the only person on the guest list I didn’t know already.”

“Oh. I hope it’s okay that I’m here…” You set the bowl down, a little unsure.

Charlie nodded enthusiastically and grabbed a plastic cup from the stack, then scribbled your name on the side with a nearby Sharpie. “Of course! Any friend of Dean’s is a friend of mine. He was really excited when you told him you’d come. Here,” she held the cup out for you and you took it, smiling hesitantly. “Get yourself something to drink and I can introduce you to a few people while Dean finishes up the burgers. No pressure, okay? Everyone here’s really nice. We weeded out the bad ones years ago.”

You let her point you towards the drinks spread out on the counter and you kept your head down low. Charlie seemed nice. Maybe by the end of the afternoon you wouldn’t feel so out-of-place. Clearly, everyone here knew each other, which meant you were the odd one out.

A frisbee hit the kitchen window off to your right and you were so lost in your worries that you jumped, dropping your cup. It hit the counter and then dropped to the floor, spilling soda all over you, the cabinets, and the tile. The women standing in the kitchen exclaimed, and in seconds you were being hustled into the bathroom with a towel while they mopped up the sticky mess. 

Hesitantly, you closed the bathroom door and glanced around. The bathroom was small, with only a sink and a toilet, but it was practically pristine. Either Dean had a maid or his neat-freak tendencies didn’t just apply to his gym equipment. After a brief look around, you turned and stared at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t look rattled, which was a miracle in and of itself, but you definitely felt it. Your shirt was drenched down the front and it was already sticking to your skin. With a frown, you tried to dab the liquid out with the towel, but it was to no avail. The shirt you’d specifically picked out for the barbecue was definitely ruined, at least until you could get home and wash it. Until then, you’d just have to go around with a sticky, stained shirt and let everyone wonder how you could be such a klutz.

A knock on the bathroom door made you pause your cleanup and you opened it after a beat, even though the bathroom was small enough that you were standing right beside it. You didn’t want to seem too eager or on edge after what happened. People needed to think you were composed and poised, not crazy and stressed.

Dean stood in the hallway with another towel and something black clutched in his hand. He looked you up and down, his eyes lingering over the stain on your shirt.

“Are you okay?” he asked, finally meeting your eyes.

You nodded and forced a smile, grabbing the towel from where you’d draped it over the lip of the sink. You made sure to hold it in front of the damp part of your shirt. “Yep, I’m fine. I was just coming to get some burgers. I’m assuming they’re done?”

Dean nodded and held out a hand to stop you when you turned off the bathroom light and moved towards the hallway. “Charlie told me that one of the sodas exploded all over your shirt. I didn’t want you feeling uncomfortable, so I grabbed an extra shirt of mine if you want it. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.” He hurried the last part out as if he was the one who should be embarrassed about the situation, not you. “I just thought I’d offer. It’ll fit you.”

Carefully avoiding his gaze, you took the second towel and the black thing—a t-shirt no doubt identical to the ones you’d seen him wear before and after he changed into his workout gear. You rubbed the fabric between your fingers, silently marveling at its softness and suppressing the urge to lift it to your nose for a sniff. It didn’t slip past you that Charlie had lied to save you from embarrassment. You’d have to thank her before you made your great escape.

“Thanks,” you murmured, finally glancing up at him with a smile slightly less forced than before. “I appreciate it. I’ll… I’ll get changed and meet you by the grill?”

Dean’s smile appeared, wide and radiant, and you felt your stomach flutter when he nodded and stepped back from the bathroom doorway. He lingered, holding your gaze until you finally looked away to shut the door, and he only started to leave when the door was almost closed. You stood in front of the sink in silence, listening to his footsteps fade as he headed back out onto the deck.

It took you a minute to process that Dean Winchester, your trainer and a regular in your daydreams, had just loaned you a shirt. You checked yourself over in the mirror again just to be sure that you hadn’t slipped in the soda and hit your head on the countertop. This was something out of one of your little fantasies. It couldn’t be real life.

Charlie’s voice outside the bathroom door startled you into action and you quickly ripped your shirt off and pulled Dean’s over your head. You only took a moment to revel in the lingering scent of his cologne mixed with laundry detergent before yanking the door open.

“Oh! I was just coming to see if you were okay,” Charlie said, dropping her hand back down to her side. “I almost just hit you in the face, sorry.”

You shook your head and smiled a little. “It’s okay.” You gathered up your shirt and the two damp towels. “Um, where should I put these?”

“I’ll take them.” Charlie had them out of your hands before you could protest. “You should go get something to eat.”

“I’m gonna take my shirt out to my car first. I don’t really want to carry it around,” you told her, laughing a little. She must’ve picked up on your nerves because Charlie gave you a warm smile and nodded, then led you back down the hallway to the kitchen. Just before you reached the end of the hall, you spoke up.

“Charlie?”

She hummed and looked back at you, stopping when she saw that you’d stopped. “Yeah?”

“You told Dean that the soda exploded, not that I spilled.”

Charlie nodded, a knowing look in her eye. “The room was pretty busy. It would be easy to miss a new bottle being put out from the fridge. Whoever took it out must’ve dropped it and gotten it all shaken up before you went to open it.”

“Thank you.”

She shrugged and her smile returned, and then she turned forward and began walking again. You parted ways when she went to join the other women talking by the sink.

Trying to be as subtle as possible, you slipped out the sliding door onto the deck and headed for the gate. You had made it to the edge of the house when Dean called out your name.

“Y/N! Hey, where are you going?” He jogged up behind you, stepping just slightly in your way so that you had to stop.

You crumpled the shirt in your hands a little more, frowning. “Just… taking my shirt out to my car,” you said.

Relief flooded his features, but it disappeared so quickly that you must’ve imagined it. “Good. I’d hate for you to leave before you got something to eat. Do you want me to save you a burger?” he asked.

You glanced over your shoulder. The crowd around the grill had grown exponentially since you’d passed on your way out of the house and after a moment, you nodded slightly.

Dean smiled, then stepped out of the way. “One burger, coming right up.”

You smiled back, a little nervous under his attention, and watched as he backed away and headed back in the direction of the house. As he turned the corner, you dashed to your car to drop off the shirt.

Your heart was pounding in your chest for more than one reason and you paused for a second after unceremoniously dumping the shirt on the passenger seat. Every part of you was screaming at you to take a chance and ask Dean out like you’d been wanting to ever since you’d laid eyes on him. He was single-handedly the kindest, most attractive man you’d ever met. You’d been working with him for several months now and not once had you felt unwelcome or unsafe in his gym and in his presence. He never made you feel bad about your body, even when you’d regressed or plateaued on the way to the goals he’d helped you set.

But Dean was the kind of guy that dated supermodels or fitness influencers. You’d stalked him on Instagram before going to his gym for the first time; his profile was littered with pictures of him and his skinny, toned, perfect friends working out and hanging out.

You were normal. You did your best to stay in shape and it was paying off—one by one you were checking your goals off the list—but Dean clearly considered you nothing more than a friend. After all, friends got invited to annual barbecues. Love interests got asked out on dates.

Once your heart had calmed a bit, you made your way back to the backyard. Dean was waiting for you just outside the sliding doors. He smiled wide when you turned the corner of the house and started up the steps to the deck.

“You’re lucky,” he said once you were within earshot. “I managed to get you the last one.”

You took the paper plate, frowning a little. “What are you going to eat if this is the last one?”

His smile dimmed at your lack of enthusiasm and he glanced through the open door. “There’s plenty of food. I can have some of the salad you brought. It looked good.”

“You don’t have to do that, Dean,” you mumbled, looking down at the burger. Even in the summer heat, you could feel the warmth from the food. Dean had even gotten you a bun, and he’d balanced a slice of plastic-wrapped cheese on the side of the plate. You had a vague memory of him on the treadmill beside yours, saying something about eating the processed cheese as a kid and how much he still liked eating it now.

Dean looked back at you, then placed a hand on your arm and guided you towards the edge of the deck, away from the other guests. You refused to make eye contact.

“Is everything okay? Did I say or do something to upset you? Did someone else?” he asked.

Slowly, you shook your head and took a deep breath. You forced a smile and lifted your face, hoping it looked genuine. “Sorry. No, everything’s fine. I probably just need to eat, that’s all.”

He searched your face for a second. The false happiness you’d pasted on quickly withered under his inspection and your smile faltered. There was a reason that people flocked to Dean’s business. Not only was he good at getting people in shape and then helping them stay there, but he was good with people. He could tell when something was bugging you, when you had great news that you were bursting to share, and when you needed a minute to collect yourself. 

“Bullshit,” he huffed, and you looked down at your sandals again. “Y/N, if something happened, please let me know. I’ll— I’ll give you some space or try and talk to whoever it was that upset you. I want you to have a good time. It’s important to me and you deserve to have a good time, too.”

“Why does it matter so much if I have a good time?” you asked after a second. His confusion was clear even in his silence and you continued, “I’m just a client. Everyone else here is a friend or a family member. I can see why you’d care so much about them having fun and getting food, but me? I just… I don’t get it, Dean. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not like I’m paying you for this. This isn’t part of the gym contract.”

Dean’s expression softened and he signed, looking around the deck. The crowd had cleared out a little as people finished getting food and drinks. They’d scattered around the rest of the yard, gathering back around tables and setting their plates down in favor of playing the games that had been set up. The pool was empty, though the teens on the edge stayed put, now with sodas and waters in hand.

“Y/N… You’re more to me than just my client. I just… didn’t know how to approach it until now. I’ve never felt this way about one of my clients and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or put you in a vulnerable position. I definitely didn’t want to tell you how I felt while we were at the gym, so I thought maybe if we were someplace else a little more casual…”

Your mouth ran dry and you gawked at him. Dean Winchester had a crush on you? He had feelings for you? You had to be hallucinating. Maybe you’d gotten heat stroke.

“Y/N?”

You blinked. “Um, I’m sorry. You’re— You—” You stumbled over the words, not sure what to say.

Gently, Dean took your elbow and led you closer to the railing, where you lowered yourself onto one of the coolers. The plastic was hot underneath your thighs but you ignored it, focusing on Dean’s worried expression instead.

“If you don’t feel the same way, it’s okay,” he said. He looked down at his hands, jaw clenching. “Just please tell me. I won’t be offended if you find a new trainer, either.”

“Why would I want a new trainer?” you asked, dumbfounded.

He looked back up at you. “What?”

“I mean, I really like you. As a trainer. As a person, too!” you quickly added. “I like you in the same way you like me, I think.”

You watched for a moment after you spoke as Dean stood in silence, and then a slow smile spread across his face. The dam inside of you broke and you smiled back at him.

“Yeah?” he asked.

You nodded, laughing a little. “Yeah.”

“So all this time…?”

“We’ve been trying to hide our feelings from each other?” you finished, and this time it was Dean’s turn to nod. “It sounds like it.”

He laughed and warmth blossomed inside of your chest. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

“What?” You glanced around the backyard. “Why?”

“Because I want to take you out on a date and I honestly don’t think I can wait any longer,” Dean said. He took the paper plate from your hands and set it on top of another cooler, then held out his hand to help you up. You let him help you stand, still grinning.

“But Dean, all your friends are here!”

He shrugged and shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans. How the man was wearing jeans in the heat of summer, you didn’t know, but he pulled it off well.

“They won’t miss me. Sam and Charlie can hold down the fort and if anyone asks, I’ll tell them the truth: that I took my girl out for a date.”

The heat in your chest flooded to your cheeks, and you knew for a fact that it wasn’t the temperature outside that was making you this warm. You tucked your chin down, smiling bashfully.

“Your girl?” you asked. Is this what it felt like to fly? You might as well have been floating; you felt so light and your heart skipped a beat.

“If you want to be.”

Nodding, you linked your arms with Dean, now smiling so wide your cheeks hurt. “Take me on a date, Dean.”

His smile rivaled the sun as he led you back across the deck to his car. You were fairly certain no workout he’d ever assigned you had ever made your heart beat as fast as that damn smile did.

Thank you for reading! <3

If you liked this story, please reblog! That is the best way to share your love for my work and to spread it so that other people can enjoy this story. If you would like to support me further, please consider supporting my writing by donating on Ko-fi, supporting me on Patreon, or commissioning a story of your own!

@mrswhozeewhatsis​ @alexwinchester23​ @shaelyn102​ @lyarr24 @supermoonpanda​ @ultimatecin73​  @musiclovinchic93​ @shamelesslydean​ @mlovesstories​ @ellie-andthemachine​ @karikatz12481​ @amionthetumbler​ @akshi8278​

#dean #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester angst #reader x dean #reader x dean winchester #dean fic #dean fanfic #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #imagineteamfreewill #spn #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #jellyfish fic

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

supernatural masterlist ✨

the daylight [dean winchester x reader] [943 words]

#supernatural #dean winchester #reader x dean winchester #dean winchester x reader insert #dean winchester x you

[l0velysmut]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

#smut #relatable #neteyam x reader #jake sully x reader #lo’ak x reader #tonowari x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #konig x reader #draco malfoy x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #ellie williams x reader #harry potter x reader #rick grimes x reader #dean winchester x reader #neytiri x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #robin buckley x reader #five hargreeves x reader #leon kennedy x reader #gojo satoru x reader #rafe cameron x reader #jj mayback x reader

[cognacdelights]

supernatural masterlist

the cognac chronicles

dean winchester

↠ maggie mayhem {coming soon}: she craves male validation. he's the best high she's ever gotten. now they're both stuck in a sick and twisted game of foreplay that neither are willing to lose.

↠ cigarette daydreams {coming soon}: when hunting a djinn goes wrong, dean gets thrown into an alternate dreamland — one fuelled by the deepest desires locked away in his subconscious.

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x oc #y/n x dean winchester #dean winchester smut #spn #supernatural smut #reader x dean winchester #oc x dean winchester #dean winchester x y/n

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

Me: “fuck, I need his cock”

Him: *is literally just words on tumblr*

#natti’s 18+ #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #tom riddle x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x reader #rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank x reader #peeta mellark x reader #finnick odair x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #peter parker x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #castiel x reader

[muffinbeliever]

The Cuddling Scheme

The reader, Team Free Will 2.0, and Charlie have a movie night.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1068

Warnings: none! 

Square Filled: Movie Night @spnfluffbingo

A/N: hello ! here is a short little one shot for my fluff bingo card! its honestly just a bunch of family time and a little bit of dean time. enjoy !!

Masterlist | SPN Fluff Bingo 2022 Masterlist

“Y/N, hurry up!” Charlie’s voice bounced off the concrete walls of the bunker. The microwave beeped and you rushed over, quickly pulling out the steaming paper bag.

“Ouch! Fuck!” Your fingertips slightly burned, but you had dealt with worse— much worse. 

“Okay! Okay! I’m coming!” You called back, pouring the freshly-made popcorn into a large metal bowl. You grabbed the second bowl that you had made only minutes before from the counter, rushing over to the Dean Cave. 

Movie night was long overdue, and tonight was perfect since Charlie was spending a couple of nights at the bunker after a weekend at Comic-Con in Wichita. You were on popcorn duty after an unanimous vote— excluding you— had decided that you made the best popcorn. You only had to make two bags though, as Cas didn’t eat anything and Sam had his bag of kale chips. Charlie wasn’t the biggest popcorn eater, so you figured she’d just eat some of yours if she felt like it. 

You smiled at the scene that greeted you as you walked into the Dean Cave. Jack sat in the front on a beanbag that he had claimed as his own. He was laughing as he talked to Cas. The older angel was seated in one of the armchairs that flanked the left of the long couch. He was nursing a beer— his fifth one to be exact— his eyes shining at Jack’s happiness. Dean was talking to Charlie, both sitting on opposite sides of the couch leaving the middle open for you. Sam was sitting on the other armchair, munching away at his kale chips while on his phone, most likely looking for a new case. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” Jack said with a smile when you handed him a bowl of popcorn. You returned his smile and settled into your spot, handing the larger bowl of popcorn to Dean so you could adjust the pillow behind your back. He shoved a handful of the buttery treat into his mouth.

“Mmm,” he groaned, “Delicious as always, sweetheart.” He winked at you, causing little, nervous flutters in your stomach. You looked away before he could notice your blush, locking eyes with Charlie. 

“Yeah, Y/N,” she said, her eyes filled with mirth, “Delicious.” She gave you a cheesy wink that had you rolling your eyes. 

“Shut up,” you muttered, not wanting Dean to catch wind of your conversation. Luckily, he was too preoccupied throwing popcorn at Jack, while the younger angel tried to catch it in his mouth. After several failed attempts— that left several pieces of popcorn scattered around Jack— Dean focused his attention elsewhere, pelting Sam instead. 

“Dude,” Sam said, annoyed as he shook a kernel out of his long hair, “Cut it out.” 

“Come on Sammy, a little popcorn never hurt anyone. It sure as hell beats those toasted vegetables you’re munching on,” Dean teased.

“They’re called kale chips, Dean,” Sam said, rolling his eyes at his older brother. 

“Why don’t we start the movie?” Charlie interrupted before Dean could respond. 

The TV— having been long forgotten since they had chosen the movie— had turned off its screen, but one click of the remote had it up and running. You subtly flinched at the creepy doll blankly staring through the screen. 

“A horror movie? Really?” You laughed, hoping no one could hear the slight tremble of nerves in your voice. “Our life is one big horror movie. Don’t you want a change for once?” 

“Come on, Y/N. It’s just a stupid storyline with stupid writers who think they know what they’re doing. We face the real deal every day,” Dean argued. “Unless… you’re scared?” Your heart raced as you feigned confidence.

“Please, I fight monsters for a living. I’m not scared of a stupid doll.” He smirked. 

“It’s settled then. Cas, hit the lights,” Dean responded, relaxing into the back of the couch. 

The lights went out, leaving only the TV to illuminate the room. Charlie started the movie while everyone began to settle in. You shifted to your side, swinging your legs into Dean’s open lap, and he automatically placed his hands over them, drawing little circles on your shins. You nestled into the couch, placing the bowl of popcorn on your lap. Dean reached behind him, grabbing two beer bottles from the table. He handed one to you and took a swig out of the other. 

It was a typical horror movie filled with blood, gore, and creepy music. Jack was often confused, asking questions like, “If the doll is a cursed object, why don’t they just burn it?” and “Why aren’t they shooting the ghosts with salt rounds?” Every jump scare had you flinching and clinging on to Dean’s arm— not that the older hunter said anything about it. You swore you caught him smirking a couple of times though. 

After what seemed like forever, but was really just a couple of hours at most, the movie was over. Sam got up from his chair, and turned on the light, collecting the empty beer bottles littered around the room. Charlie yawned and stretched, before getting up and announcing she was going to bed. Cas and Jack followed, leaving you and Dean alone in the room. 

The popcorn was long gone, the empty bowl abandoned on the floor at some point, and you were practically in Dean’s lap. He was holding you as you huddled into his warm, hard chest. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, and you looked up at him in confusion. “Why?” His green eyes met yours, and he gave you a sheepish smile.

“I picked the movie, even though I knew you didn’t like horror movies,” he confessed. “I just wanted to hold you.” 

Your eyes narrowed, and you pulled away from his arms. His face fell.

“Sweetheart, I—” You reached behind you for a pillow, and lightly smacked him with it. 

“That was for intentionally scaring me,” you told him, before leaning in and kissing his cheek.

“And that?” He muttered, his eyes closed as his cheek tingled from the feeling of your soft lips.

“That was for holding me when I was scared,” you told him, happily, before nestling back into him. 

“I’ll hold you forever,” he whispered. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and a light kiss was placed to the top of your head. You sighed, content in his embrace. 

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine @bluedragonflylady @cevans-winchester

#spnfluffbingo2022 #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x y/n #reader insert #reader x dean winchester #y/n x dean winchester #team free will 2.0 #dean winchester fluff #supernatural #supernatural oneshot #muffinbeliever

[shelbybyr]

When you run out of fics to read

#jacob black x reader #seth clearwater x reader #edward cullen x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #draco malfoy x reader #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #hermione granger x reader #damon salvatore x reader #stefan salvatore x reader #jax teller x reader #opie winston x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #kylo ren x reader #ghost x reader #konig x reader #ben hanscom x reader #joel miller x reader

[bethsvrse]

pov: I find a good smut fic but it includes a daddy kink

#I hate daddy kinks sm #I wanna start a petition to ban daddy kinks #joel miller x reader #bucky barnes x reader #tony stark x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #sirius black x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #jim hopper x reader #derek hale x reader #steve rogers x reader #remus lupin x reader #steve harrington x reader #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader

[itshelia]

Is it just me or everyone imagine their fav characters that they are obsessing over in real life???

Like I'll be at work and then I imagine that bitch sitting next to me, talking to me and admiring me while I FUCKING KNOW THAT I HAVENT KISSED A MALE SPECIES IN MY ENTIRE LIFE

I don't know if that's sign of a fucking mental problem or what but I swear if I'm even Slightly upset or tired of my life i WILL open tumblr and start imagining them or talking to them (aka my wall. It be sitting there like the fuck gurl im not your man)

#steve harrington x reader #spencer reid x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #dick grayson x reader #eddie munson x reader #tate langdon x reader #tommy shelby x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #daryl dixon x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #bellamy blake x reader #astarion x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dean winchester x reader #din djarin x reader #frank castle x reader #ethan landry x reader #jake sully x reader #james potter x reader #jj maybank x reader #joel miller x reader #john murphy x reader #javier peña x reader #kaz brekker x reader #marc spector x reader #matt murdock x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #mike schmidt x reader

[andthevillainshallrises]

The missing hunter pt.2

Winchesters x reader // dean x reader

summary: see the first part here

note: first of all i'm sorry for taking this long to post the rest of the story :( but here it is and hopefully it'll be good enough that you will want a third part ;) if you have some ideas about how the plot could evolve please let me know! it'll be fun to talk about it together. if you wish to be added to the tag list don't hesitate to tell me so. if you have any remarks, comments, anything that could help me with my english and the plot of the fic itself you can leave a comment or send me a message^^ and if you have any requests (tell me which fandom it'd be about so i can tell you if i have enough knowledge about it) maybe i can scribble something for ya ;)) just tell me in an ask or just a dm.

words count: 2k

…………

After cleaning her arms and hands as well as her face, y/n changed her clothes and packed her bags. When she opened the bathroom’s door Sam and Dean were sitting on the single bed in the small motel room. The rain had started again and the occasional lightning was casting shadows across the room, the dim glow of the bedside lamp giving the crimson walls a gloomy look.

She dropped her bags on the floor and the sound brought the brothers out of their slumber. They were half asleep, the exhaustion marking their faces, making their under eyes darker. 

For y/n the last few days had passed as if in a trance, she remembered some details but the rest remained hidden by a thick fog of fatigue. Or maybe her own brain was trying to protect her from the eventual trauma.

All the energy had disappeared from her body, and the simple fact of standing there instead of collapsing on the bed and letting herself go into a long deep sleep was like torture. Her body protested with every movement but she kept her composure and forced herself to stay awake. Forced herself not to seem weak.

Before the boys allowed her to take care of her wounds and get changed, they forced her to call Bobby. And after confirmation it was her that the man was looking for– and a great amount of swearing and angry lecture about being irresponsible, she had finally been allowed some privacy.

But now the boys had to drive her to Bobby’s. For what reason, she didn’t know, but she was sure it wouldn’t be to share some pizza and a hug. She’d be getting the runaround about her behavior, her irresponsibility, and how worried Bobby had been while she was doing God knows what.

Before hitting the road, Sam had suggested they stop at a dinner. Y/n suspected this suggestion has something to do with the loud noise her stomach had made moments before, but since she was starving she didn’t decline the offer.

In spite of the night already well advanced, the trio found a dinner open a little before the limits of the town. The rain was pounding hard against the roof of the Impala and they had to rush for cover inside the establishment once the engine was shut off. They sat down at a booth by the window and were soon served with coffee and waffles.

The place was practically deserted, only a few customers were scattered in the small room. The sound of thunder echoed fiercely in the humid atmosphere and lightning illuminated the treetops of the forest that bordered the road.

The establishment was quiet, the customers were either half-asleep or watching the news on the small tv placed on a little shelf atop the bar. Only the soft sounds of the coffee machine buzzing and the tv in the background were filling the place. Y/n forgot about the world around her when a full plate was served, and her cup was filled to the brim with coffee. She didn’t even wait for the boys to start and attacked the pile of waffles, syrup dripping from her fork.

She barely paid attention to Sam who was clearing his throat in the hope of catching her attention off her feast. Dean threw him a look half annoyed half tired, with one eyebrow raised. He seemed really annoyed to be here, to have to babysit someone.

No doubt tired of this little game, he suddenly pulled y/n’s plate toward him just as she was about to bite another waffle. “Hey!” She protested before swallowing her previous bite, and she froze when her gaze landed on Dean’s serious face. He looked like someone you don’t want to mess with. If she hadn’t been so tired she surely would have battled for the plate, but her forces were so few she could barely hold on her fork.

Glancing at Sam she noticed he was staring at her too. Clenching her jaws slightly, she tried again to pick up the waffle with her fork but Dean pulled the plate further, “So,” he started. “You gonna tell us what happened?”

Knowing full well she couldn’t finish her meal or get back on the road without giving some explanations first, she obliged. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.” Dean’s tone was dry and y/n’s heart clenched as she realized once again that he most certainly did not remember her at all. Leaning back in his seat, one hand still on the plate, Dean waited, his eyes fixed on the girl in front of him as if he was afraid she would disappear into thin air the very moment he would glance away or even blink.

Sliding her gaze on the table, y/n’s mind was assailed by flashes of the last few days and the rather dark events that had followed. She couldn’t possibly admit she didn’t remember everything that had happened. No, that wasn’t an option, she was going to have to come up with a story to cover her ass. And a one that wasn’t too alarming if possible, so they would leave her alone and stop lecturing her and looking at her like she was some irresponsible teenage girl.

Sam frowned, “Just start with the beginning, y/n.”

***

then… 

A mournful howl echoed in the darkness of the night. The moon played hide-and-seek with the heavy clouds and made the forest dark, the shadows merging into shapeless, sinister masses.

Y/n had been on the trail of a creature for several days, and felt that she was getting closer to her target. She had stalked the thing for days and spied on it day and night. She now knew her way to the creature’s hiding spot and had planned to take care of it the next day.

Y/n had learned to walk with as little noise as possible, even on a carpet of branches and dead leaves she was as quiet as a squirrel. Moving from bush to bush, she saw an owl perched on a branch nearby, watching her with its yellow eyes. It seemed to say this is a bad idea…

The farm was in a sorry state when seen from afar, but up close it was worse. The roof and some of the stoned walls were half collapsed, wild grass had grown everywhere and rust was crumbling the beams. She didn’t know exactly where the creature had established its quarters specifically, but the rooms were few so it wouldn’t be difficult. That’s what she thought until everything went south…

***

Sam’s voice drew y/n out of her thoughts, “Hey, it’s alright.” Y/n blinked and came back to reality. Preferring to avoid the brothers’ gaze– which she knew was for one worried and for the other severe, she turned her head to the window and watched the night sky.

Just like that horrible night, the sky was dark which made some stars visible, while the clouds were playing with the moon. The atmosphere was peaceful but there was something about the stillness of the scenery that made y/n uncomfortable. This whole situation was making her uncomfortable and she wished Bobby had never sent the boys after her.

After all, she had succeeded and escaped the place, and had, on top of everything, killed the creature.

Y/n took a deep breath, “I’ve been following the trail of a vampire for a few days.” She took a sip of her coffee, which thank God, Dean hadn’t pushed away from her as well, and studied them. Their expressions hadn’t changed a bit. Exasperated she continued on, “i had followed the creature to its hideaway, watched the place for several days. I was sure it was there and I was going to finish the job, and–” Dean cut her mid sentence, “You got caught.” His tone was as cold as ice and like subdued thunder.

She didn’t have to finish her story for Dean had already guessed what had happened. And he wasn’t happy about it. “And then what? How’d you even get out on your own?”

“I didn’t.” Y/n looked down at her fork and coffee mug, “there was someone else, and we helped each other.” The words seemed to die in her throat so she stopped talking and drank some more coffee, as slowly as she could to give herself time to think about the way she'll continue. No one said a word, not even Dean whose patience had certainly disappeared long ago.

After y/n had finished talking, there was a strange silence between the three. The dinner was almost empty, the few remaining clients had already left, hitting the road again, and the waiter was already cleaning off the counter and the tables.

And suddenly Dean broke the silence and it felt like he had smashed a glass on the floor. “That was such a stupid idea, you know that?” Y/n had nothing to answer. She was tired and angry at everybody for telling her what she should do, or how she should do it, or why she couldn’t. Clenching and unclenching her fists under the table, she remained silent and just waited for the lecture and critics the brothers would throw at her. Surely Bobby would do the same, with more anger and disappointment.

Maybe it would piss her off even further and she will leave without a word, just like she did when she first left Bobby's place a few weeks ago. Technically she had left without telling him because he wasn’t there at the time, and she couldn’t reach him on the phone. So she just left because she had picked up something odd happening in the next state, and somehow her intuitons were right. She had found a case, investigated it and took care of it just like she’s been taught.

Back in the car, Dean at the wheel, the conflicting emotions were swirling in y/n’s head. She had opened her window slightly to feel the coldness of the night, hoping it would numb her overthinking brain, and a few drops of rain came crashing on her cheeks mimicking tears.

They drove for hours before finally arriving at Bobby's, and all y/n had been able to do was staring at the passing landscapes, unable to find sleep. Now she was even more tired than when the boys had found her at the motel and yet, she had to endure another lecture from Bobby, because surely he wouldn’t let this one slip.

She hadn’t taken one step outside of the car that Bobby was already up her ass, telling her all the different ways she could’ve been hurt or killed, all the things that could’ve gone wrong. And he didn’t even know how bad things went.

Bobby's place could be described as some kind of junkyard for cars and other things the man had accumulated over the years. But for y/n it felt kind of like home– maybe because it was all she knew and it was the closest thing to a home she ever had.

Once inside, everybody dropped their bags and Dean immediately went to the kitchen and fetched a beer from the refrigerator, drinking it in big gulps as if it was water and he was as dry as a desert from the inside. Sam still wore a frown like a crown embedded in his skull. And Boby was pacing the room from one wall to another, sometimes he’d stop and stare at his boots.

It smelled of that peculiar scent a room full of dusty piles of books would smell. Papers covered in old languages and symbols were scattered across the desk, an empty bottle on the edge of falling on the old wooden floor. Everything felt like Boby. Every detail, every inch of the place was impregnated with Boby and his lifestyle more than unusual.

On the mantle of the fireplace behind the desk were disposed old frames with dusty yellowed photographs. Each one represented Boby and someone, a few showed a young Bobby with different cars. Y/n’s gaze rested on a set of pictures at one end of the mantle. One of them was a photo of John with his boys when they were still young and he had the habit of taking them on the road. The brothers seemed quite happy in the photograph, the trio was smiling like someone had cracked the best joke ever. Boby wasn’t by their side, he must’ve been the one holding the camera.

Another photo represented the brothers again, just a few years younger than now, both of them posing beside the sleek black Impala. The smile was still there, but it was a smile saddened by too many things. John wasn’t by their side.

Without realizing it, y/n was looking for a picture in particular. A picture taken many years ago. She remembered the day the picture was taken as vividly as if it had happened a minute ago. She was at Bobby's for a year or two and she used to hang out with Dean and Sam when their father would stop by. They used to be close friends, calling each other when John locked his boys in a motel room for days.

At the beginning y/n mostly get along with Sam since she was younger than the brothers and the boy clearly needed friends. Dean was grumpy all the time even when he was young, but he'll always take care of his brother, and that's something y/n would never forget. Dean's commitment to the people he loved was inspiring.

Bobby had stopped pacing angrily and now stood by the window. When he turned, he faced y/n’s back, and knew what she was staring at. The brothers were always on the road and when they would stop at Bobby’s they would be too occupied with their research to even pay attention to their surroundings. Bobby was the only one glancing at the pictures every now and then, mostly when he felt lonely and sad about the past.

…………

tag list: @katsotherworld @vantae-tea @leigh70 @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds

#supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #bobby singer #spn famdom #spn fanfic #spn family #reader x dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #supernatural fanfic series #dean x y/n

[deantavias]

"it's unhealthy to read fanfiction"

well i'm doing my 20 minutes of daily reading so...

#sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #din dijarin x reader #bellamy blake x reader #peeta mellark x reader #loki x reader #bucky barnes x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #jay halstead x reader #spencer reid x reader #tony stark x reader #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #sam winchester smut #rafe cameron smut #spencer reid smut #bellamy blake smut