#spn fanfic series

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 5) - Six Years After Dean Left

Summary: It's been nearly six years since Dean and the reader became friends. Now that they finally have a chance to reunite he's desperately hoping for a chance at the love they denied themselves in the past. 

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Square: “All I wanted was a happy ending.” 

Word Count: 3,137 

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21-22, Dean is 26-27), time jump, mentions of physical abuse by a parent/violence/death, pining, a hint of jealousy, protective!Dean, kissing/cuddling, fluffy fluff fluff 

A/N: These two are adorably irresistible together. Ultimately decided to post the rest of this series in the order I wrote it because I feel it reads better. 

_____ 

Six years after Dean left. 

The town you once thought would never feel like home had grown on you since Dean. That’s how you thought of him, as if Dean was a fixture in time, in your past; a turning point. And he was. So you hadn’t stayed in hopes of his return, it had been six years after all since he left. You stayed because it was home. 

Your brother eventually moved to the city, with that blonde you thought it would never work out with, and now you saw him on weekends when they dropped by for dinner and a day at the beach. They didn't have any plans for getting married or having kids though, and that was fine, they were just young and in love, or lust depending on who you asked.

You still lived at home for the time being to save money while you commuted to finish off your final year of college. You liked life by the beach. It was simple and though it could get crowded with tourists in the summer months, you wouldn't trade it for the bustling city life.

Summers were spent working with Cas at his local art gallery. He needed help during the busy season and he lacked the people skills he needed to sell his creations. His family had helped him acquire the place since they were well off and you were pleasantly surprised at his handiwork. He turned out the most beautiful carvings and sculptures from driftwood and found objects he'd picked up from the beach.

You didn't regret taking a gap year to figure out what you wanted to study and you settled on a degree in Business. In your spare time, you volunteered at the youth group in town that you and Benny organized together. He had been all in when you proposed the idea to him and you both wanted to create a safe place for kids -both like and unlike Sam and Dean- to go to for support. Even if that just meant playing board games, making crafts, or taking them sand surfing for an afternoon so they'd have a place to go where they wouldn't get into trouble.

Dean was pretty proud of you when you told him about it and promised to visit back in February. But he never made it out and you lost contact for a bit after that. You guessed life got in the way, but it made you a little sad.

You still loved getting his postcards though and had been on the tips of your toes ever since the latest one arrived a couple months ago. He'd written that he was 'coming home' and 'soon' but he didn't say when. So when your mom handed you a postcard that afternoon, you nearly leapt out of your skin.

There was no stamp so you figured he had hand delivered it and he'd written, '...meet me under our streetlamp...' your heart beat so fast it felt as though it would fly away if it wasn't held in by your ribcage.

You had bought a new dress in the hopes of seeing him after his last postcard and rushed into your room to throw it on. Every time he'd seen you was in jeans and boxy t-shirts and even though you knew he didn't care, you wanted to look nice.

Sure it was a little chilly outside, but the length of the dress reached your ankles and you wore leggings underneath, a light jean jacket overtop and sneakers, because heels take balance. Which you didn't have. Then with a glance in the mirror, you dashed out the door towards your truck, still the same ridiculous burnt orange colour as the day you got it. 

You pulled into the empty parking lot of the pier, instantly spotting the mint-condition, shiny black Impala. You parked beside Baby, but Dean wasn’t in the driver’s seat and the engine was cold when you hopped out of your truck and felt the hood with your palm. You peered inside, not a single takeout bag or ketchup packet in sight. Not that he didn't eat that type of food but he kept her tidy like she deserved. 

Backing away from Baby you noted her brand new-old headlight and the lack of dents in the front bumper. Dean must've finally found those parts he was checking every salvage yard for. 

You turned on your heel and glanced down the lot, spying Donna’s ice cream shop; it was around the same time of year you met Dean which meant the shops would be closing soon for the winter. You smiled and looked across to the bench that sat under the streetlamp. Your spot from that night six years ago. 

A man sat on the bench staring out at the horizon as a sailboat headed towards the harbour in the distance. He turned his gaze as though he felt your eyes on him and squinted, then stood up.

You thought you'd recognize Dean anywhere, but you couldn't remember the last time you video chatted and when you had, the connection was too fuzzy to see anything other than frozen pixels. You stepped slowly towards the man, giving him a squint of your own eyes and tilting your head. Mirroring him when he smiled.

"Y/N?" He called over the distance and you'd recognize that deep voice anywhere. Dean. 

You ran towards him with a beaming smile and jumped into his arms, knocking him back a step. His hands clutched your waist and he lifted you and spun you around as he laughed.

"I almost didn't recognize you. Are you wearing a dress?" Dean chuckled and set you on your feet.

Your cheeks burned, "Well, I remember you were a big fan of the skirt." You teased him about the time he saw you in your school uniform and his cheeks burned just as red. "What's this?" You brushed his jawline with your fingertips, feeling the stubble against your skin.

Dean's neck flushed under your touch, "Uh, yeah. I probably should've shaved again before I came here but I didn't want to take a chance at missing you."

"I dunno, I think it kinda suits you," you shrugged, unable to keep your smirk to yourself. "Your beard was practically nonexistent when we met."

"I don't think you wanna talk about things that were practically nonexistent when we met." His eyes dropped to your chest for half a second.

You gasped and shoved him in the shoulder and he burst out laughing. You couldn't help but notice the natural tone in his muscles and how much broader he'd gotten.

"You grew up." You squeezed Dean's shoulders, barely able to get your hands around them now. 

"I should be saying that about you." He sucked his lip as he looked you over. "Seriously, though. Did you get taller?" 

"Yeah, sure. Let's call it taller," but you knew what he really meant. You grew into your body and you owned it now even if you still dressed like you were a sixteen-year-old tomboy most days, but you weren't afraid to throw on a dress every now and again for special occasions, like today. 

It was a bit of a gloomy day but there was enough warmth in the way he looked at you that you didn't care.

You grabbed his hand and tugged him to sit on the bench with you. "I missed you."

"We text almost everyday, Y/N." He smiled. "And talk as much as possible."

"Not for a while now. You kind of ghosted me after Valentine's day." You said, still holding his hand and playing with his fingers between yours. "I should be more mad at you, but I missed you too much, I couldn't not come meet you if I tried."

"It wasn't fair to you," he squeezed your fingers in his, "I’m sorry, Y/N. If it’s any consolation, I missed you every minute.” He bit his bottom lip like he did often. "But we both know we couldn’t be together back then-”

“All I wanted was a happy ending for you, Dean." You cut him off and waved your hand. "And Sam, and you guys have that now, in California. I'm so happy for you."

"Yeah," he breathed and brushed his hair back, not that he needed to, it was much shorter now. "About that. I'm not going back." You dropped your jaw and pushed your brows together. "With my father gone, there's really no reason to stay away anymore," he grabbed your hand and clutched it to his chest, "And every reason in the world to stay right here."

"But won't you miss Sam?"

"Of course, but he has Jess now and he doesn't need me anymore. I think for once in my life, I'm going to do something completely selfish and, despite some painful memories, I've always loved this town. It's where my mother grew up and had my brother and me. She taught me to ride my bike on this pier, I have the scar on my knee to prove it and I taught Sammy four years later. My friends are here, you're here. I don't think I need much more of a reason than that."

You stared at him and opened your mouth, then closed it, speechless, and he smiled.

"Y/N, when I picture myself happy, it's with you. In this town, with this ocean and that ice cream," he pointed to Donna's across from where you sat on the bench. "I wanna settle down, have a family with you; raise our kids in a house that's a home and have a happy little existence with my dream girl by my side."

"I'm your dream girl?" You blinked up at him.

"You've been starring in my dreams for longer than I care to admit. And now here we are. Same spot as the first night we met. Sam is safe and I don't have to deal with my prick of a father anymore. You're almost twenty-two, I'm twenty-six and the five years between us is just that."

"Um, Dean..." you bit the inside of your cheek and he deflated.

"You're with someone, aren't you?" He asked and you nodded twice, trying to hide a smirk. "That makes sense. You're beautiful and smart and strong and I never had a chance. The timing is always gonna be wrong for us and I shouldn't have expected-" He sighed and rubbed his knuckles like they were split, but this time they weren't. "He better treat you right."

"I love you."

"Huh?" His green eyes flicked up to meet yours and you let the smirk take over.

"I love you." You repeated.

"I don't think your boyfriend would appreciate that, Y/N." He shook his head, his breath heavy.

"Oh, I don't think he'll mind." You leaned into him and let your lips connect in a quick kiss. Dean was so stunned he didn't move and you whispered, "In case you didn't catch on, I'm talking about you."

He bit his lip and laughed silently. "I think you made that painfully obvious, sweetheart. But, way to give a guy a heart attack."

You didn't set out to wait for Dean, but you weren't about to settle for any less either. And keeping in touch over the years kept those feelings alive; like feeding fuel to a flame and you could feel the fire in your belly.

You kissed him again, "You made me wait."

"It wasn't easy for me either," he cupped your cheek and brushed your skin with the pad of his thumb. "And I love you, too, Y/N, more than you’ll ever know.” 

He wet his lips and pressed them to yours. The heat from his mouth warming your skin and his hand tangling in your hair. It wasn't your first kiss with Dean but somehow, it felt like it was. It was the beginning of something real, with nothing to hold you back and keep you away from each other.

A butterfly sprung to life from the fires in your stomach and you drew back, "So, what now?"

"What do you mean?" He brushed your hair behind your ear.

"What happens now? Do you move into your father's old house?" You asked.

It had been sitting empty since him and Sam left and now that John was dead, everything was in their names. It wasn't something that Dean ever wanted to talk about but you'd found out that John finally picked a fight with someone big enough to fight back. 

"I'll burn it to the ground before I move back there." He almost laughed though he was completely serious. You couldn't imagine the painful memories that place held for him; they overpowered anything nice their mother had been a part of creating there. You couldn't blame him for not wanting to go back. "Cas and Benny said I could stay with them, they have a spare room and it'll give me time to sell off the house and find a place of my own. And maybe if I'm lucky, by then I won't have to move in alone?" He cocked an eyebrow at you that held a thousand questions.

"That depends," you sighed and glanced away from him, then back.

"On?" He smiled, knowing you were teasing him again.

"Whether you snore when you sleep, duh." You rolled your eyes playfully.

"I'll buy you earplugs." He kissed your cheek, then your lips.

_____

Four months after Dean came back.

It was cold outside, freezing actually and snowing heavily. If this wasn’t the last of the boxes, you and Dean would’ve waited to bring in the rest. You plopped down onto the floor in the living room amongst the many other stacked boxes. You’d accumulated more than you thought over the past few years, but you didn’t think it was that much until now. Dean set his box on top of the others and ignored it when they started to lean, opting to lie next to you on the floor and risk getting crushed by cardboard and clothing instead.

He rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand. He gazed at you and reached out to brush the snow from your eyelashes.

You closed your eyes.

It was a cute little two story house that Dean had found with a wraparound porch, no walkway, and a big backyard. The house itself needed a lot of work, Dean saw nothing but potential and thought it was a steal. You had to agree and you weren't opposed to rolling your sleeves up and putting a little elbow grease into the place you would eventually call home. 

When he first told you that your dad had helped him get a job in mechanics at Sandover Bridge and Iron, you were surprised to say the least. You always said you would never date a man whose job took precedence when it didn’t need to and you worried Dean would overwork himself to prove his worth to your father. But your father had figured out his work-life balance since you were a teenager and if he could do it then so could Dean; so you made an exception as if it was ever an option to walk away. Besides Dean always made it home for dinner and honestly without him, your new home together would just be a house. 

What you had with him only came around once in a lifetime, you knew because you never felt the same about anyone else. Not even close. 

You opened your eyes. 

Dean looked at you like he could see your whole future together. Like nothing could tear you apart. And nothing would because you would never give up on each other.

"What are you thinking?" You asked even though you were pretty sure you already knew.

"That it's midnight and we'll very likely be snowed in by morning," he leaned over you and you felt his weight as he kissed you. "And we don't have a shovel."

"Benny could come dig us out," you breathed and he pressed his forehead to yours. "He owes you for fixing up his Jeep anyways."

"Mm," his lips brushed over yours, "I can't believe he still has that thing. Too bad we don't have a way of calling him, though."

"What are you talking about? I have my phone right here," you pulled your cell from your pocket but Dean took it and tossed it out of reach.

"Oops, guess we'll just have to stay stranded." He smirked and you laughed as he pecked kisses to your cheeks, squirming when his lips reached your neck, "Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart."

You opened your mouth to speak but he silenced you with a kiss until you were breathless, then he started working over your neck with his tongue. You giggled and laughed until you twisted out from under him with a red spot on your pulse point. 

This moment was perfect with him, but incomplete. There was only one thing missing to make it feel like home.

"Which box is the hammer in?"

"I think that one," he pointed to the box near the doorway, "Why?"

You pushed on his chest when he tried to kiss you again and he rolled off you, watching you curiously. You jumped up and dug around in the box until you found it and a nail, then grabbed the framed photograph you'd set aside in a box of breakables. He sat up and smiled when he recognized the frame.

It was the gift he'd given you before he left six years ago. The selfie of the two of you during your day of sand surfing. It was the first thing you'd hung on your wall back home and you wanted it to be the first thing you hung up in this house, too. Your home with Dean.

Over the years, you went from loving that photograph to hating it and back to loving it. You knew it was contingent on the way you were feeling about Dean at those times, but you never took it down. Until he asked you to move in with him, then it was the first thing you packed.

You curled your finger at him and he followed you into the master bedroom. You hung the photograph on the wall and dropped the hammer when Dean wrapped his arms around you from behind, swaying you back and forth; he smiled as brightly as he did the moment the photo was captured. 

Dean looked at the photograph with you and dropped his chin to your shoulder. 

"Love you," he kissed your cheek. "You make me stupidly happy, do you know that?" He kissed your neck, making you giggle.

"You make me stupidly happy, too."

_________________________

Part 6

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers @vicmc624 @ladysparkles78

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #au!dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn fanfic series #dean x #dean winchester x #au!dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural dean #dean winchester series #spn series #dean series #spn reader insert #wild hearts series

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

Past Due (Dean/OFC)

Title: Past Due

Rating: Mature

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Original Female Character

Pairing: Dean x OFC

Summary: Dean Winchester has an effect on an older woman he's known for years. Kansas, Men of Letters Bunker Setting. Set around Season 15 with some canon-divergent plotting. 

Tags: Fluff, Flirting, Explicit Language, Smut, Angst, POV First Person, POV Female Character, Librarians, Friends to Lovers, Protective Dean Winchester, The Winchesters Are On A Case, The Boys Deserved A Better Ending

Chapters 1 to 3 Word Count: ~ 5K   

Notes: Posted on AO3 10/2/20; Completed 7/16/21. 

Chapter 1

Am I being checked out while checking him out? 

I scan the barcode on the back cover. His eyes are trained on my face with a little more interest than usual.

Do I have some spinach between my teeth from the salad I had for lunch? God, why does he have to do that thing with his tongue?

I readjust the glasses on the bridge of my nose and make some quiet small talk with the gorgeousness in front of me. I do most of the talking and he does most of the nodding.

No. Dean Winchester is not checking me out. He’s just existing and breathing and short circuiting my brain as he tends to do on occasion with his proximity. 

I will not fuss with my hair like I always do when he’s close enough for me to smell him. Oh, Goddammit.

I feel like a sixteen year old around this man. Every damn time. It’s not fair. It happened the first time I met him six years ago. He’d handed over the paperwork and I processed his library card application. He smiled that lopsided grin that says, You poor unsuspecting creature. I’m so handsome I don’t even have to make much of an effort . 

That was the day he and his mountain man of a brother, Sam, walked into the Smith Center Library. Back when they had used Campbell as their last names on the application. And before they had helped with a haunting that blew their aliases. At least with me. It was a “job” for them that involved my brother five towns over. The house he had bought for a song at a sheriff sale, turned out, came with a supernatural squatter. 

“No shit it was cheap. Because someone was murdered in it. No offense, but your brother was pretty much asking for trouble knowing that going in.” I still remember Dean’s very accurate logic when they’d gotten the full history. 

I shouldn’t feel like a sixteen year old - when I’m 46, speeding toward 47 in a couple months - with a man five years my junior. Even if it is Dean Winchester.

He reminds me of my second husband, Lou. Full of sass, rounded out with some grump, and a sprinkle of edge. He drinks like Lou did. I only know that because I’d bought Dean and Sam a round of drinks one night a few years back. It was a thank you after they’d burned the remains of the poor soul that was stuck in what they called a death echo in my younger brother’s house. Top shelf scotch is Dean’s preferred drink of choice when someone else is buying, by the way. And he has a high tolerance for alcohol that one only gets after decades of experience. Like my second husband, Lou.

He drives a vintage muscle car like Lou did, too. You can hear it ten seconds before it turns onto West Court Street and pulls up to park in front of the library. That engine sound always gets my fellow co-workers on high alert and wide eyed, just like me. It’s a disappointment to all of us when it’s not Dean.

He flirts with every female between the ages of eighteen and eighty that crosses his path. Again, like Lou. It’s his default setting. He seems to prefer a tight skirt from what I’ve gathered through my research. But he rarely slights and denies the opposite sex his charms or thorough assessment if they decide to don pants or shorts.

My brain finally registers the title of the book he’s checked out on the computer screen. The attraction fog has lifted for a brief second. I turn the tome over on the counter and read the title aloud. “Fairies and Wood Nymphs? Do I want to ask?”

He shakes his head. I twist my fingers near my mouth to indicate my lips are sealed. Then he flashed me that weird look again. Almost like he’s processing some data. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t been in here for over a month and I’m paying every flinch and twitch even more attention than usual. I realize in real time I’m cataloguing all of these In case I don’t see him for another month. Or, God forbid, two months. “You really are, aren’t you, Winter?” He finally pipes up with a question, using my surname as usual. The smile returns to his face.

“What’s that, Mr. Campbell?” I respond with a way too giddy smile and slide the book back to him. My coworkers are probably snickering at me behind the periodicals as they watch the show. Sure, like they wouldn’t be putty in this man’s hands, either. Even Ronald turns into mush around Dean.

He bends and leans back a bit to rest those thick forearms on the counter. Plaid clad shoulders, green eyes, freckled skin, and pouty lips are now at eye level with my five foot four frame. “Good at keeping a secret.” He mumbles and lowers his voice more with every syllable.

That voice triggers the floodgates down below.

What the hell is going on right now? “Friends don’t call me ‘The Vault’ for nothin’.” I somehow get the sentence out. Being this close reminds me of the night at the bar. When the scotch had worked its magic at the Mexican restaurant. The neon green cactus aesthetic and terra cotta motif had lulled Dean into some sort of sarape security blanket. He’d divulged a lot after Sam, downing only one drink, had left in the Impala with the promise to pick up his brother in a couple of hours. By the end of the night, Dean said I was a good listener and not quick to judge. That I had a nice calming presence. That I’d must have seen some heavy shit in my lifetime, too. 

“Can I ask you something?” His brows raise.

My mouth has dried up so I can only nod in response.

He cocks his head to the library entrance. “Do you have a minute to talk outside?”

I nod again. I may not be the boss, but my seniority and elder status give me a little leeway.

He rises up, taps the counter and grabs the book. “I’ll be waitin’ in the car.” I get a full smile this time and almost pass out.

I push the front door of the library and spill out on the sidewalk a couple minutes later. His black beauty of a car is still there, waiting. The nippy Fall temperature is enough for me to wrap my cardigan tight around my middle. Dean is in the driver’s seat, windows open, with Lynyrd Skynyrd playing on the radio.

He has an eager and appreciative look on his face when he exits the vehicle and walks toward the hood to meet me. “Thanks.”

I shrug. “What did you want to ask me?” I wrap some stray, windswept strands back behind my ear.

“Sam and I, we could use some help at the bunker.”

I can’t help but gasp at the word. Bunker. This legendary place I’ve gotten sparse, verbal descriptions of here and there over the years. Their home base. Sam has boasted of its library to me.

“Well, mainly Sam could use some help. Because I’m useless when it comes to the library. And, he also doesn’t trust me when it comes to the books.”

Library. I’m able to stifle another gasp. I stand in silence, waiting for more.

He sighs. “Let’s just say we had an accident. A lot of the books got damaged, flew off shelves into a massive paper mountain.”

My head nods in a fury. “Yes, I’d love to help.”

He chuckles at my eagerness. “Great.” He hands me a note, like we’re in high school. “Meet me at this intersection and I’ll show you the rest of the way there?”

“When?”

“Whatever's good for you.”

I realize how non existent my social life is lately and offer, “Friday night?”

He nods. Another grin. “Eight?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“It’s a date.” He winks.

Lou NEVER winked.

Chapter 2

I left my cottage in Smith Center that Friday after the sun had set. It was a twenty minute drive before I came upon Dean at the crossroads, waiting for me with a grin and a goal when my headlights spotted him. I followed Dean’s Impala in my Wrangler down the long, winding prairie road eventually overtaken by trees for another ten minutes. The radio kept me company in the dark. The wooded area closed in on each side as I drove behind the Impala’s wake. 

A clearing amid the trees to the right gets my attention. I peer up and gasp, braking in time to avoid a mild fender bender after Dean’s abrupt stop. 

The bunker looks like a massive detention center or secret government facility built into a rather large hill. It’s intimidating in its grey, drab, and impenetrable appearance. Illumination from the moon and stars in the Kansas sky provide a perfect backdrop. I can see the outline of the sharp roofline structure high above the tree canopies.

What the hell am I getting into? These brothers have provided the occasional glimpse into their lives with the weird research requests over the past few years. I should feel scared or worried. But, the quick pace of my heartbeat has more to do with the excitement of peeking at what’s behind the curtain. And, finally seeing the place Sam and Dean Winchester call home in Lebanon, Kansas.

The squeak of Dean’s driver side door as it opens and he plants boots on the gravel makes the blood pound in my ears. He eases, almost pours out. The door cinches shut with a creak. My headlights spotlight him again. He strolls over on those bow legs. I kill the engine. He leans against my open window, staring down, a hand and forearm reclining on the rooftop. “Still okay with this, Winter?”

I smile. He’s such a perfect mix of rugged and that kind of handsome they don’t make anymore. He reminds me of Paul Newman, Robert Redford, John Wayne or Clint Eastwood in their heyday. But, then he’ll shine some cheekiness that gives me the vibe of a Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin hosting a variety hour from the 60s. I stare at those lips a little longer than I should. Again. “Yep. This is already the most eventful Friday night I’ve had in forever.”

He taps the roof. “Alright, then.”

The temperature has dropped and I’m glad I wore a heavy jacket. The gravel crunches underfoot and Dean has enough courtesy and manners to lead the way in the dark with a flashlight.

“Got a few concrete steps here. Careful on the way down.”

I chuckle. “So nice of you to look out for your elder.”

He waves the flashlight in my direction, but low to my chest so it’s not directly in my eyes. “You do that a lot, you know.”

I stop in my tracks. “What?”

“Point out that you’re older than me.”

“Do I?”

“Mh-hm.” The flashlight rotates back around in his hand so we can continue the trek. He waits until we are both at the threshold of a large door. It looks like a bank vault. The click of a key in a lock is heard when he adds, “Why do you do that?”

I shrug in the shadows.

The door gives to Dean’s pull and sounds like he’s breaking some type of hermetic seal. In moments we are atop a stairwell. The door slams behind us and makes me jump. My eyes widen at the view below, something out of a 40s war room. Dean’s already halfway down the iron staircase before my feet are able to move. I track and inventory the vintage communication devices, the art deco architecture, the solid build of this secret place with brick and stone and marble. A huge table in the middle of the room has a world map lit up from below as its surface. Dean drops his backpack on the table without a second glance. “Sam!” He yells.

He walks to a large open entryway into another room with a step up. I glimpse the row of tables and shelves. And the books. The books scattered everywhere. The smell of leather and musky paper fills the air. I inhale deep and get that little whiff of smoke and vanilla that I love.

“I’d invite you to make yourself at home, but that’s not really possible at the moment.” He motions for me to follow. Dean shucks off his jacket and hangs it on the back of one of the chairs. I’m attracted to a nook in the beautiful hall filled with clutter. I drape my jacket on a wingback chair and pick up a hardbound book on one of the stacks. There are dozens of these book pillars piled in various heights, some reaching to my shoulders. “Where the hell is he?” Dean asks no one in particular.

I notice a Samurai sword on display to my left when Sam’s free floating voice calls out. “Be there in a minute, Dean!”

Dean sighs and slinks through the maze of books. He lands on my right and stares down at me. “Are you hungry? We’ve got a stocked kitchen for once. Sandwich? Snack? Beer?”

I shake my head, too busy splitting my gaze between his expectant green eyes and the volume in my hands. “Is this an actual first edition of Grimm’s Fairy Tales?”

Dean opens his mouth but Sam answers, peeking over the Samurai sword on the bookshelf. “Yep. From 1909. Thanks for coming to help out.” He smiles.

“This is… wow.” I’m speechless.

“Well, I’m hungry.” Dean pipes in. “I’ll be back in a bit.” He darts and bounds up another small set of stairs leading out of the library.

“Remember,” Sam begins.

Dean halts in the other doorway. “I’m not bringing any food in here. I got it, Sam, nothing that might mess up your precious. You're worse than that goblin thing in Lord of the Rings.”

“Gollum was a hobbit.” I correct him.

“Stoor hobbit, actually.” Sam nods in agreement.

Dean purses his lips and raises both hands, then slams them in mock defeat against his thighs. “Thanks for clarifying. Looks like we found the best person to help.” He shakes his head and gives me a tiny smile before disappearing.

My heart beat skips at that smile.

*

Sam and I spend a good fifteen minutes deciding on a strategy to divide and conquer. He’s as giddy as I am to get these things back in their proper spots. The Dewey Decimal system makes the overwhelming task a bit easier. He really only needed another pair of hands and a bookish mindset. I’ll take one side of the library, Sam the other. He’s pulled out a pencil sketch of the shelves and their categories, as best as he can recollect.

“Dean got this glazed look when I asked him to help organize after we got them piled up and out of the middle of the room.”

I thumb through the index cards in the catalogue to get my bearings and hope to find homes for a couple books to start. Anything that doesn’t go on my side that I come across, I’ll leave for Sam on the table closest to the war room. He’ll place anything for me on the other table. “An actual explosion?”

Sam nods. “It was like an earthquake. Shook everything. And, then, there were the…” He clamps his lips tight and runs his fingers through his long hair. “Too much information for your first night. I want you to come back and help.”

I narrow my eyes. “I was already crazy enough to come. It would have to be pretty terrifying for me not to return.”

He shrugs and only repeats, “I want you to come back.”

We talk. He’s hesitant to indulge me with certain facts. But when I ask if Dean has any culinary skills to speak of, he’s almost an open book. Burgers and charring meat appear to be Dean’s specialty. I smile, feeling the tap and tug of my heart, thinking about how good my first husband, Rick, was with a grill and a smoker. I ask about Jack. Sam tells me that he’s staying with Cas for a while. 

One afternoon, a couple years back, Dean and I stood huddled by a monitor in the technology area. He was dressed in a sharp blue suit and wore a cologne that filled my nose with citrus and cedar. To this day, I’m not sure how I managed to remain upright.

He was in need of some topographic maps of Lebanon. I didn’t ask why and he seemed grateful. I asked about Jack, since he was fresh in my mind from a recent visit. Dean steeled his jaw before confessing he and Sam were having difficulty with their new charge. I learned they had saved Jack from a dangerous situation. I assumed it was something supernatural. His mom had passed when he was born and their friend, Cas, had taken the boy under his wing not long after that. Now that friend was in need of more assistance with Jack. There was more to the story, but I didn’t press.

I knew why he mentioned Jack’s mom. He knew about my first husband. It had been one of my confessions over those drinks years back. Rick had been my high school sweetheart. We’d married halfway through university at KWU in Salina. I got my bachelors. Rick had turned his volunteer firefighter position into a career, dropped out after two years at university, and kept telling me he was going to go back to school after. After was Rick’s favorite word.

We moved back to Smith Center after school. I got a job at the library soon after that. Our son Ricky came along a year later. Rick had promised a five year old Ricky at the dinner table they would go to the neighbor’s farm over the weekend. He’d get his first pony ride. After his 24-hour shift at the firehouse.

Rick never came home after that shift.

Chapter 3

I shake myself from the memory. I’m not sure how long it is before I turn around to grab from a new stack and find Dean standing right there. My nose brushes against his shirt. I avoid slamming the rest of me into him. 

I smell the fresh clean showered scent of him. He’s sporting loungewear like a male supermodel. The spiky damp hair is doing weird things to my insides. I want to run my fingers through them like I’m sprinting through a field of wheat. And, then I want to tug on those strands while he…

“Is Sam taking advantage of you?” He smirks, chin to his chest, looking down at me. “Free labor and all. Sure you aren’t hungry?”

“No, I’m good, thanks. Getting in the zone.”

He nods into his chest. “Well, if you plan on it being an all-nighter, we’ve got plenty of space for you to crash.”

“Dean…” Sam side eyes and scolds him with a slight shake of his head.

I realize how curious I am to explore more of this amazing place. I also realize how much being this close to Dean makes me wish he’d never be more than an arm’s length away. See? Sixteen year old. My twenty-three year old son would be mortified at his mother’s behavior right now. Thank God he’s on his own and away at school, working on his Master’s in Library Science. He would love this book collection, though. “I could use directions to a bathroom.”

Dean smiles. “Sure. Follow me.”

I nod to Sam. His gives me a hesitant smile.

Dean leads out the library in slippers that remind me of something my father would wear. I stare at the heels of his bare feet peeking out from the slippers when he steps up. For a second I get an image of the two of us on the couch watching television. His long and solid frame spread out across all the cushions. I’m seated at one end with his calves propped up on my lap, massaging his tired and sore feet. “Coming, Winter?” Dean’s voice calls out. He’s turned to wait, a quizzical stare at me. Shit, how long have I been daydreaming?

I join him. He’s along my left down the marble and stone corridors. They contain a plethora of doors and intersections that turn my sense of direction on its head. The halls feel cold, antiseptic, even though the design and style is meticulous and elegant.

Dean rubs the back of his neck. “You probably have a dozen more questions now.”

“Try a hundred. It’s just the two of you in this huge place?”

“Well, sometimes Jack. And, Cas.”

“Do you have a cleaning service come in or something?” I run a finger along the marble wall as I pass. I tilt my head in approval at the lack of dirt.

He chuckles. “We’ve got a really great filtration system. Just have the usual upkeep with the common areas and our rooms.”

“I need to get me one of those.”

“Or live in a secret lair with no windows.”

“Hm, that’s true, you don’t have any. You really could not know what’s going on outside while you’re in here.”

“It’s a hermit’s fantasy. Like that hobbit.” He grins and stops at a door. “It’s the bathroom slash showers. Don’t get lost in there. Or on your way back. Make a right out the door, left at the dead end.” He points down the hall with two fingers like a cop directing traffic. “Pass two cross streets, then make a right onto the next one. You’ll see the library entrance on your left. Eventually.”

I frown. “If I get lost?”

“Just call me, Winter.”

*

My flats shuffle down the hall. I make my way back to the library and feel like I’m at work. I shift into my quiet and unobtrusive mood. Unseen unless needed or called upon.

Dean’s instructions were clear and easy to follow. The slight panic at being in an unknown maze subsides when I hear their voices. I turn down the hall. The warm amber light from the library spills into the corridor yards away.

Their voices travel toward me. The acoustics are quite good in this place. I can tell they are trying to keep their voices low.

“You should ease up.” Sam sounds irritated.

“What?”

“Not every woman needs to be a conquest, Dean.”

“Shut it. I-I don’t think about Winter like-.” Dean stutters. “I’d never think of her as a conquest.”

And that. That’s what makes my heart drop into my stomach. Of course he doesn’t think of me that way.

Sam sighs. “I can really use her help. And, she’s always been nothing but nice to us.”

Dean sighs back. “I know that.”

I take a deep breath, beat myself over the head with reality. Cough for good measure so they know I’m coming. When I turn the corner, Sam is busy in his section and Dean is between the tables, ringing his hands, and smiling at me.

He’s been sweet because, why, felt bad for me? Placating me, maybe? He just knows he’s got that effect on women?

“Great at directions, Sam. Told ya.” Dean claps his hands. “I’ve been told enough space has been cleared and that snacks may be brought in.” He raises a finger in the air for emphasis. “I’ll be back.” A quick turn and dash around the corner of a table has him disappearing through the war room.

When I step in to assume my spot I catch his figure heading through a doorway by the stairwell entrance. I resume the work. Quiet and unobtrusive.

“Everything alright?” Sam notices the change.

“Yep.” I flash a smile full of teeth. “This is an amazing collection.” I pretend to rifle through the pages of one book with interest before placing it on a shelf.

“Did Dean… say something… to make you uncomfortable?” Sam strolls closer and leans on the table to sit. I think it’s an attempt to shorten our height differential. “He can get a little carried away.”

I fidget with the frames of my glasses. “No. I’m used to it. He’s like that with every woman, right?” I grab two books and study the spines.

Sam shrugs. “Kind of.” From my peripheral view, I can see him lean down farther and try to make eye contact. Or get a read on me. “I mean, it’s not like you’d be interested, right?” 

This weird sound comes out of my mouth that resembles a laugh being choked out of my windpipe. When I look up Sam has a deer in the headlights expression. The wrinkles on his forehead have multiplied.

He chuckles and blinks. “Right.” Fingers tap on the table surface and he’s back to work on his side.

*

I spend another hour and a half with the brothers in the library. Dean brought a variety of things to munch on. My heart feels a little heavy at my assumption about his interest. The fantasy couldn’t last forever in my head. But I try to enjoy Sam and Dean’s company and take everything at face value. They are nice guys, after all. I’m sure there wasn’t any intentional misleading on the part of my emotions.

I crunch my last carrot stick and slide another book home. “Alright, gentlemen. I do know how to party it up on a Friday night. But it’s close to 10:30. I should get myself home.”

Dean squints. “If it’s too late for a drive back…”

I raise a hand in protest. “They haven’t taken my driver’s license away from me yet due to old age. I’ll be fine.”

Dean’s half-hearted smile disappears. He stuffs a few potato chips in his mouth as he gets up. “Let me put on some shoes.”

“What for?”

He lifts both hands up. “Want to make sure you get home safe. I’ll follow you back.”

My mouth opens. There’s a thrill that I’m quick to squash down. “I might not want you to know where I live.” I interject without thinking.

His eyes widen and then he smiles. “It’s cute that you think we don’t already know where you live.”

My head whips to Sam. He shrugs. “Part of the job. We vet everyone who gets let into our little circle of chaos.”

“Be right back.” Dean confirms there’s no way I’m getting out of an escort home.

Sam is ever so grateful for the assistance tonight. He wraps me up in a huge friendly hug that’s warm and comforting. He thinks he can manage the rest of it on his own. But he offers to have me come back soon, inspect and approve what he’s done. The library is always open for me to visit in case I want to do some actual reading.

Dean returns a few minutes later, fully dressed again. The man is quick and ready for action at a moment’s notice. Could have been a firefighter.

I’m quiet on the way out. I follow him down to our cars. He provides the lead and lights my way to the Wrangler. He clicks the driver’s side door closed once I’m in and suggests a three point turn to head back the road we came in on. He offers to lead in the Impala. I decline, sure in my navigational skills.

I keep checking my rear view mirror on the drive back. I see the silhouette of the assured, confident Winchester. I’m positive that man has broken many hearts. But, probably provided some amazing memories for some lucky women. I’m also positive he’d be a hard act to follow for anyone that came after him. I’m not sure I could handle either of those scenarios at this point. 

And how lucky could one woman get anyway in a lifetime? I think back to Rick and the memories that have a grainy film overlay to them now. How special those years were. How misguided and unfair I was to Lou, constantly comparing him to the man I lost. Knowing that my expectations and a multitude of sins on his part led to our divorce five years back. 

It’s better like this: to admire Dean Winchester from afar with the occasional heart palpitations.

I pull into my short drive. I’m self conscious about the loud rumble of the Impala’s engine as Dean rolls past me to stop in front of my house. My neighbors are scattered here and there along the prairie road. No one is on top of each other. But it’s usually quiet this time of night. Jody or Harry will be peeking because of the noise. A second later my prediction is confirmed. I stare off to the right through my passenger window to see a light snap on in the Wilson’s kitchen window.

I hop out of the Wrangler, ready to walk over to Dean’s driver side and thank him for seeing me home. Dean cuts off the engine and emerges with an energetic self propulsion. I stall in my tracks. Even in the dark I blush at those eyes that I know are trained on me. Goddammit.

“Thanks.” I squeak out and clear my throat.

“No problem. Wanted to make sure you got home safe.” I hear his hands slide into his jean pockets. He’s closer now. My eyes have adjusted to the dark. His tongue peeks out and brushes that full bottom lip. It glistens in the moonlight. He cocks his head to my porch. “Alright if I watch you get inside?” He raises a hand. “Not me being stalky. Just cautious.”

I narrow my eyes. “Do you have a target on your back or something?” A shiver runs down my spine. I’m not sure if it’s due to fear or standing for too long in the chilly October night.

He grins. “Not at the moment.” My mouth opens up at the cavalier response. He turns serious, maybe because of the look I gave him. “We didn’t want to tell you, didn’t want to worry you…”

“That’s a great way to start things off.” I frown and cross my arms.

“You should get inside, Winter. Gettin’ cold.”

“You can’t do that to me. Leave me hanging like that.” I hear a familiar screen door screech open on hinges that need greasing.

He sighs and nods past my shoulder to something behind me. “I don’t want to explain out here. We’ve got an audience.”

I turn around, past my Jeep and the drive to see Harry in his sweatpants and a t-shirt. He’s leaning against a pillar under the floodlight of his porch. A sharp nod in my direction. Jody’s voice travels in the night air, asking her husband what’s going on over at my house.  I sigh and give the neighbor a wave. “Well, we’ve given them something to talk about.” I mumble. “Might as well come inside for a minute so I get all the facts.”

#spn fanfic series #dean winchester fanfic #dean x ofc

[trexrambling]

I just reread Seeing the Horizon again, and it got me all up in my feels – just such a beautiful, powerful work. It’s perfect as it is, don’t get me wrong! But would you ever consider writing an epilogue/timestamp, even if it’s set years or decades later, where he finds her again? And maybe this time he comes to stay, or brings her to the bunker to stay? They’ve both been through so much, I would love to see these two get a happy ending. Anyway, it’s just a thought. Thank you for being such an incredible and emotion-provoking writer!

Thank you for the love for my words ❤️ It's been ages since I've written anything, and seeing people jump back on this story again has given me so much joy today.

As for an epilogue... I have thought about it. My brain has even begun to craft one several times, but I've only ever gotten a few lines in and then hit a wall. I think a large part of me likes that each reader can create a personal epilogue of their own in their mind, knowing that Dean didn't actually forever die like he thought he was going to at the end of Chapter 7 when he told her goodbye. There are quite a few paths it could go, and the open-ended ending lets each person decide what route they'd prefer to take. So even though there is a pretty solid outline of what happens a few years down the road in my head... I think I'll continue to let you guys decide how that journey ends.

Read "Seeing the Horizon"

#love my lovelies #jess replies #seeing the horizon #dean x reader #spn fanfic series #blind!reader #I do truly love this series #in my top 3 of what I've created on here #I'm glad you guys love it too

[the-family-business-83]

This is a list to keep track of masterlists for each fandom. This list will likely be updated in the future as needed.

Fandoms that I write for are: Supernatural, The Boys, Marvel, and Top Gun (coming soon). If it's not on the list I won't take requests for it.

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Fandoms

Supernatural Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

Other fandoms may be added at a future date!

The Boys Masterlist (Coming soon)

Top Gun Masterlist (Coming soon)

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Other original series

(Coming soon)

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Headcannon lists

(Coming soon)

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Taglists

(Coming soon)

#writer things #bear with me im still trying to get my stuff organized #writerscorner #spn #spn fanfiction #spnfanfic #supernatural #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #fanfic series #spn fanfic series #marvel fanfic series #the boys #the boys fanfic #the boys fanfiction #masterlist #fanfic masterlist #spn fanfic writer #marvel fanfic writer #the boys fanfic writer #fanfic #fanfiction #stay tuned

[nerdlifecentral]

Unknown Secrets [6]

Summary: Y/n heads back to Dubuque with some advice from Rowena. The Hunters and angels are still suspicious and Gabriel catches the reader in a few lies.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, reader, Gabriel , Castiel, Mick, Ketch, Rowena, and Crowley (mentioned)

Pairing: everyone platonic

Genre: Angst, bit of fluff

Word Count: 3,837

Warnings: n/a

A/N: Wowie, can't believe the last time I posted was Christmas! That's college life for you. Anyway, enjoy this chapter, and reach out if you have questions, suggestions, or something you want me to write! <33

“Rowena, you really don’t have to worry about me. I already let Ketch know before I left that I was feeling better and I have to keep their suspicions as low as possible. Disappearing wouldn’t help my case.” I say while tidying up the witch’s living room and packing my go bag and backpack.

“I am well aware of the terminal paranoia that runs in Hunter’s DNA, dear,” she says with a chuckle, “I am also aware that gaining Hunter’s trust is hard, but maintaining it is impossible.”

I know she is looking out for me, but honestly, I was hoping for some blind optimism to balance out the anxiety. “Trust me, I remember how long it took for Ketch and Mick to trust me and actually work with me regularly. I can’t lose that, Ro.” I say turning my back on her to continue packing. I hear her shoes click on the floor and stop right behind me.

“Y/n,” she says softly, “turn around and look at me, please.” I sigh and turn to look Rowena in the eyes. She gently takes my hands in hers and continues, “I know that you are a very capable and strong Hunter. And I’m sure those boys know it too, but promise me you will call if something doesn’t feel right or even to check in every few days so I know you’re okay.”

“I promise I will either call you or Crowley if something feels off.” Rowena visibly relaxes and gives my hands a quick squeeze. 

“Speaking of my son, he told me this morning before you got up that he might have found some demons who might know of a way that could keep you more hidden from other supernatural beings.” she says, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Tell him thank you from me whenever you talk with him. At least now I have something to tell Sam and Dean that you guys are working on some theories.” I shiver with nervous energy considering the thousands of possibilities of how these guys will react since I’ve been gone.

“Yes. Now you better get going, it’s a long drive back to Dubuque.” Rowena smiles and walks me to the front door after picking up my backpack for me. I sling my go-bag over my right shoulder and grab my backpack from Rowena. She gives a quick kiss on the cheek goodbye and closes her front door.

************************************************************************

The entire drive back to Dubuque I tried to do some calming breathing exercises to keep my anxiety in check, although I’m unsure that breathing exercises will be any match against warranted suspicions. Driving into the bare parking lot I park next to Baby and Ketch’s car on each side of myself.

“At least I know everyone is here and I only have to face them once.” I assure myself while taking my duffle bag out of the back of my truck along with my backpack that I sling over my right shoulder, closing the car door afterward. I take a deep breath and walk in the direction of room number 63. I called Ketch this morning after leaving Ro’s apartment to make sure they hadn’t changed hotels or rooms yet.

As I get closer to the room, I can hear the boys talking quietly inside and shuffling papers around. I take another deep breath and knock three times on the faded wooden door. I stick the door three times and take a small step back, nervously readjusting my backpack.

I hear shuffling as footsteps draw nearer to the door, they pause and forcefully open the door. Ketch stands before me with a tired smile on his face. I let out a sigh of relief and give him a hug.

“It’s so good to see you, y/n. How are you feeling?” Ketch asks, returning my hug and stepping aside for me to enter. I give a tight-lipped smile to everyone else in the room. Dean and Gabe both stare daggers while Sam is busy on his laptop on the bed furthest from the door.

“Glad to see you too, Ketch. I’m feeling much better, just trying to take it easy. Where’s Castiel and Mick?” I respond, walking inside and setting my backpack and duffle bag on the floor next to the small table. I take a seat on one of the chairs, Dean occupying the other, leaning back with his arms crossed.

Sam sighs saying, “They both went out to try and get some information.” I wait for him to elaborate more, or even for anyone to give me an update but no one speaks up. I glance around the room; no one has changed their positions since I walked in. The only movement is Sam’s keystrokes and Ketch quietly shutting and locking the door.

“What kind of information? Please tell me you guys have more of a lead than I do.” I ask, hoping to convince them to spill a little. Not just for my own safety, but if I’m going to be a part of this hunt I need to know what’s going on.

Gabriel snorts and shakes his head, “Important information that might be a lead depending on what Cas and Mick find out.” Dean says, still staring at me with either anger or distrust. Knowing him, probably a dangerous mix of both. I decide to stare back, plastering a confused look on my face trying to hide the frustration. I know exactly what they are trying to do, keeping me in the dark so they can gather information that I can only assume is against me.

Ketch stands behind me and places his hands on my shoulders. I'm sure he’s trying to calm me down and back off from this stare-down with Dean, but I’m lost as to how going along with this manipulation will benefit me.

“Yeah, I assumed that Dean. What would be helpful to know is maybe where they went, or possibly what information they’re finding to investigate a theory.” Sam’s typing stopped. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me and Dean as I wait for the dam to break on me.

Ketch’s hands tighten slightly as Dean leans forward and opens his mouth to speak when there is a loud knock at the door.

Ketch lets go of me and opens the door, the tension in the room that was mounting seems to dissipate slightly with this distraction. I look down at my lap and play with my hands, luckily the guys have all stopped watching me and are looking at the people at the door.

“Y/n! We weren’t expecting you for another hour! Are you feeling better I hope?” Mick says gently holding my biceps, as I stand to greet him. He looks at me as though he’s expecting me to pass out any second.

I chuckle at his excitement, “I’m feeling much better, haven’t passed out at all and I’ve been very careful.” “What did he mean that they weren’t expecting me for another hour?” Before I could question what he meant by not expecting me for an hour, Castiel walks into the room holding a bloody angel blade.

“What happened to you bro?” Gabe asks the angel. Castiel then glances over to me and back to his brother, his classic confused look on his face. Mick slowly lets his arms drop back to his sides. I feel my phone then begin to vibrate with an incoming call.

I pick up, “Hey Rowena! What’s up?” I ask cheerfully.

“Just checking up on you my dear, I’m sure they’re all putting you through the wringer right now.” I can tell she is worried about me, and I don’t like that the Hunters and angels are still staring at me.

“Not too bad, a bit tiring but that’s what I was expecting,” I say standing up and exiting the room. I’d rather not add more suspicions but I don’t have enough energy to talk in riddles around them. “I’m outside now, and yes they haven’t told me a thing yet.”

Rowena sighs and remains silent for a moment. “Are you doing okay with that? I know you value your friendships with Mick and Ketch the most. How are they treating you?”

“I mean, they were both very kind and excited to see me, but Mick and Ketch won’t say anything either. Castiel and Mick just got back from what Dean called getting ‘important information that might be a lead depending on what they find out’,” Rowena laughs quietly, “if I’m still on this hunt, how can I be of any use while being left in the dark?” I know I sound like a whiny child but it’s just so frustrating, plus Ro is a very good listener.

“Well, you could always try saying that to them?” I snort and shake my head at her suggestion. “It would also help put them at ease and understand if you’re acting a bit off, it’s because you were left behind and need to play catch-up in order to stay useful and not put yourself in danger on accident.”

“I guess I’m just feeling guilty about hiding what I know and what Crowley is looking into for me. I want them to trust me and to stay in this hunt, but I feel like none of them will trust me again no matter what I say or do.”

“The only thing I would tell you, my dear, is to be very guarded. Right now they all perceive you to be a threat. Don’t do or say anything that could strengthen those suspicions or you’ll be fighting an even worse uphill battle.” I wish there is more that she could tell me, it’s smart advice, it just makes me even more apprehensive about my decision to return to the case.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I'll be careful. I’ll try and call later depending on how much progress we make.”

“Alrighty, take care of those boys now.” I laugh at her comment and hang up, placing my phone back in my jeans pocket.

“Feeling guilty, huh?” I spin around with Gabriel standing a few feet away. Of course, it had to be Gabe who followed me out, couldn’t have been literally anyone else.

“So what if I am?” I challenge. I don’t think this will earn me any cooperation points with them, but maybe it will appear like I’m not hiding as big a secret. “You’re really telling me Sam and Dean don’t hold guilt about past actions?”

His whiskey eyes burned holes through mine, fists clenched at his sides almost shaking with anger. He takes a step toward me, and I take one back, fearful of what the tortured angel might do.

“I’m sure Sam and Dean have messed up plenty and are still living in the past. That doesn’t change the fact you told that witch friend of yours that you feel guilty because you’re hiding something about this hunt. Wonder what kind of super secret information you have that we won’t trust you?” He finished with a threatening head tilt, almost daring me to disagree.

Sam walks out, “You guys okay out here?”

Gabriel looks over his shoulder to look at Sam, “Oh lay off, Moose. I was checking up on your new best friend, y/n, and heard a very interesting conversation she was having with your witchy girlfriend.” Sam sighs heavily and shakes his head at Gabe's antics.

The angel turns to look at me again with fiery eyes again. I shrug at Sam and Gabe scoffs saying, “Don’t play the innocent card with Sammy here after trying to pull the confident, guilt-stricken hunter card with me.”

“You haven’t even given me two seconds to explain what we were talking about!” I interrupt what I assume was going to become another veiled threat, “She told me to update her once we got a bit more settled to make sure I’m feeling okay, and she is worried you are going to try to kill me or connect me to Asmodeus again.” I’m already in a hole with Gabe catching me airing out my dirty laundry, might as well get a shovel to make it look like I was digging a well and not my own grave.

“Fat chance!” Gabe exclaims, taking a few quick steps in my direction again. Sam must have seen the uneasiness on my face and took a few long strides and got between me and Gabriel.

He puts his hands up to block Gabe from nearing me, “How about we all go inside and talk about this with everyone? You can say your piece, y/n says hers, and we can decide what to do as a group to catch this sonofabitch faster.” Gabe stares up at Sam, and they seem to have another silent conversation. “What the hell is with these guys and reading each other’s minds?”

Gabriel huffs and saunters back to the motel door and opens it, glancing back at me behind Sam. “Ladies first,” he says with an exaggerated arm sweep toward the now open door.

I roll my eyes and brush past Sam back into the room, taking my previous seat at the small table, though I notice Dean has since taken Sam’s spot on one of the beds and Gabe has taken to standing right beside me, blocking my view to Mick and Ketch huddled around various weapons and herbs. He is also pointedly blocking the door, locking it shortly after Sam re-entered the room. I think he rolls his eyes at Gabe who rolls his eyes back. Sam walks over to his brother to take his laptop back and sit at the table across from me.

“So, Gabe,” Sam breaks the silence, causing the other men to cease their movements, “why don’t you start with why you were snooping on y/n’s phone call, and then y/n,” he states glancing at me, “you can say what you were talking about on that phone call with Rowena.” I nod and try to look around Gabriel to see Ketch or Mick, but the stubborn angel purposefully moves in front of my line of sight.

“First of all, Moose, not snooping.” I scoff, immediately regretting that choice with a warning look from Sam, “I was actually going to make sure she didn’t pass out or something since she was by herself.”

“Ever heard of privacy, wings?” I snap, another look from Sam shuts me up again.

“I am aware of that, smartass. I overheard y/n telling Rowena how guilty she feels at hiding something from us because she’s too scared we’ll see her differently and doesn’t want to tell us.” I know this guy has been around for thousands of years, but how is it possible he never actually grew up!

“I feel guilty because when I was with Rowena and Crowley I did some research cross-referencing weather patterns, crop failures, cow slaughters, the basic demon signs,” I pause, seeing how frustrated Gabriel was getting since I was speaking calmly and adding more detail. I guess he wanted me to admit I’m being sneaky because I have a huge secret.

“I noticed that there have been some of these demonic signs have been bouncing around between Manchester, Iowa, Platteville, Wisconsin, and Freeport, Illinois for the past twenty to thirty years,” I explain, taking out my computer to show the map I had drawn up with different colors for each demonic sign. I scroll through about ten maps showing different changes every other year as the Hunters and Angels crowd around me.

“While this is really impressive, y/n,” Mick states, “what does this have to do with your guilt Gabriel mentioned? You already gave Ketch a synopsis of what your research yielded.” Dean groans at Mick’s big words and strides back to the bed, flopping onto it.

I smile and continue, “While I told Ketch about my research I didn’t say what Crowley found out about these cities and why they didn’t show up in Rowena’s original spell. And he made me promise-”

“Original spell?” Gabriel asks, squinting at me.

I pause, not knowing what he’s talking about. “Yeah, the original spell. What about it?”

Dean sits up from his relaxed position and tries to stare me down for the second time today. The rest of the guys also visibly tune in to the conversation more and are eyeing Gabe and me.

“You saying Rowena’s original spell implies there were more spells she performed. I know she didn’t tell us about these spells, the Brits have never met her, Gabe and Cas don’t communicate with her regularly, so when exactly did she test out other spells?” Sam asks.

“She seriously did this spell only once with you guys?” Dean is still staring and Sam merely nods. “Ro’s losing her touch then, I asked for her to do the spell again on a smaller map to be sure it was for Dubuque and not a smaller town nearby or anything. And the spell again showed Dubuque.” Sam glances at Gabriel who is doing that stupid telepathic trash with Dean, at least it got him to quit staring at me. Technically it was only a white lie since the map wasn’t of Dubuque, but we did do the same spell again to double-check where the nephidemon is.

“Anyway,” I continue, “Crowley made me promise to not tell you guys that he has a demon with a number of connections has randomly gone off the radar for the past ten years. He wanted to see if this demon had anything to do with Asmodeus or his kid without y’all going in guns blazing and ruining a possible lead.” Everyone in the room aside from Gabriel has relaxed a bit and no longer seems to want me dead.

“So, why again do you feel guilty?” Sam pushes, “It’s not like Crowley has kept his inside demon bureaucracy crap hidden before to keep him as King.” 

“Why does Sam have to always be so damn smart and read into everything. I was honestly hoping they might turn suspicions onto Crowley or this made-up demon but no, Sam has to use that Stanford brain.”

“Well, I assumed you would want to know anything I found out that had to do with anything demonic. I felt guilty that I was hiding this because this demon could end up being a big lead if Crowley can find her alive.” The tension that had built previously finally died down enough for me to breathe. Gabriel must have sensed it too and stepped away from me a bit so I can actually see Mick and Ketch by the bed closest to the door.

I’m thankful for the few minutes of silence to collect my thoughts and calm my breathing. I’ll have to remember to update Crowley and Rowena about all the lies I just said, I can’t have either of them getting shot in any cross-fire. Both have been extremely understanding and really put their lives and relationships with the Hunters on the line for me.

Unfortunately, the silence doesn’t last nearly as long as I would like when Castiel speaks up, “What should we do now?” Dean gives the angel a shrug and the rest of us glance between The Brits and Dean. Gabriel is still sulking by the door with his arms crossed, playing with some grooves in the floorboards with his feet.

“Don’t you boys have a Men of Letters Bunker back in Kansas?” Ketch questions, “Those places are filled with weapons, books, spells, anything we could think to need to start seriously going after Asmodeus or his child.”

Everyone agrees and we all pack up whatever gear we brought with us and file outside the motel door towards the parking lot. Dean goes to return their room keys as Sam loads his and his brothers’ bags into Baby, Ketch does the same with his and Mick’s bags.

“Y/n, you should probably ride with us. No offense to your truck but I doubt it would make the drive to Kansas, let alone back here.” Mick says, a bit shy while holding out his hands for my duffle bag and backpack.

“I didn’t even think about that honestly, I’m sure it’s fine to leave it here and I hate long drives alone,” I say with a smile as I hand him my gear.

Dean returns and takes the keys from Sam as they get into the front seats, and the angels climb into the back. I let out a quick sigh of relief that Gabriel chose to ride with his brother and the Winchesters, I don’t think I could handle hours being stuck in a car with him and his suspicious attitude. Ketch and Mick get into the front seats with Ketch driving and Mick sitting passenger side, leaving me to sit in the middle seat in the back so I can still talk to both of them.

”Y/n, you do realize I know when you’re lying right?” Ketch says, looking back at me with the rearview mirror.

I scrunch my nose in confusion and ask, “I know you’ve been trying to convince me I have a tell or something for years, but I doubt that based on how often I beat you in poker.”

Ketch chuckles and Mick casts a smirk my way. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You do have a tell and no, I will never tell you because where’s the fun in that?” I roll my eyes and lightly smack his arm, “when you said that Crowley was looking into that demon that disappeared, your tell happened. Everything else seemed truthful, but you do know the truth will come to light sooner than you want.”

It almost sounds like a warning. I really need to try to bribe Mick to tell me about my supposed tell sometime, “Whatever you are hiding, you need to be straight with us.” Mick says, fidgeting with his collar. I might have a lying tell, but Mick messing with his cufflinks or shirt collar is certainly his nervous tell.

“I appreciate what you guys are saying, and you don’t have to worry that much about me. I’ll be okay.” I look at them through the rearview mirror, hoping to portray honesty because I truly want to believe that I will be okay through this whole thing.

“Anything you’re hiding, y/n, you either need to right it, tell us, or don’t let it bite you in the ass,” Ketch says as silence fills the car aside from faint radio music. He’s one-hundred percent right and I know it, and I’m unsure which of the three options will cause the least amount of relationship setbacks and Gabriel’s level of hatred directed at me and my father.

“No, I can’t afford to relate myself to that monster. I never have been and never will be like that, I can’t let myself.”

#supernatural fic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic series #spn x reader #spn fanfiction #spn fic #spn fanfic #gabriel #rowena #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #mick davies #arthur ketch #crowley

[soldirboy]

yeah i don't care..

#the boys series #jensen ackles #soldier boy x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #castiel #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #soldier boy fanfiction #castiel x reader #supernatural x reader #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 feed

[gleafer]

I love when tiny things are big strong and use it to swoop up their giant counterparts.

Buffy saves Dean. Again.

#illustrator #illustration #digital artist #buffy fanart #buffy fanfic #buffy art #buffy summers #buffy the vampire slayer #dean winchester #Dean and Buffy #crossover #crossover fanart #spn fanart #spn #supernatural fanart #supernatural #scooby gang #90s tv series #buffyverse #gleafer art #gleafer

[lostgirl677]

They didn't destroy you

One-shot

Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Established relationship

Masterlist

Summary: After Dean escaped Hell, he's still traumatized and Y/N helps him through it.

A/N: It takes place at the beginning of season 4

A terrifying scream tore through the night, waking me up with a start and making my heart beat faster. Even in my hazy state, I already knew who it was. I tried to open my tired eyes completely, then jumped out of bed to quickly get up and ran to his bed. The sight broke my heart. Dean, the fearless hunter and one of the bravest men I knew, lying here, shivering. Dean was drenched in sweat and tears, and he was all tangled in his bedsheets. I knew he was having a nightmare again. I slowly approached his bedside. “Dean”, I called softly while shaking his shoulder but he fought back. “Dean, wake up,” I said again as I kept shaking him. His eyes suddenly shot open and his body jolted as he sat up on the bed. His hands gripped my shoulders, making me jump back. He looked at me, completely panicked and his breathing was seriously labored. I could almost hear his heart beating.

“Dean, it’s okay. You are fine. You are awake, it’s over.” I attempted as I wiped his tears and reassuringly caressed his arms. “Y/N?” he asked, a bit stunned, with a clear relief in his voice. I smiled a bit at him and answered “Yeah, it’s me.” He looked anxiously around us and realization seemed to strike him and he suddenly released his grip on my shoulders. But it was to immediately wrap his arms around my belly. My heart literally skipped a beat at his gesture and goosebumps formed all over my skin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I hope I didn’t hurt you.” he said with a raspy voice as he buried his face in my shirt. I melted in his tender embrace and hugged him back while caressing his hair gently. I could feel his tears soaking my shirt. “It’s okay. Don’t worry.” I assured him softly. His embrace slowly became tighter and tighter with each of my words, and his sobs grew louder. My heart shattered in a thousand pieces at the sight of this broken man. The man I loved more than anything. Dean would normally never let me see this part of him. But that night showed me how broken he really was.

For a moment, it was like we were apart from the world around us. It was just him and I, with his uncontrollable sobs for background noise. The worst was that I couldn’t possibly console him. Not after what he’s been through in Hell. Nothing could ease such trauma and pain. So, instead of talking, I just kept caressing his hair. But suddenly, I felt Dean removing his head from my shirt and I immediately looked at him, concerned. His eyes were red and puffy from crying and his cheeks were tearstained. Gently, my hand made its way to his face to wipe the stray tears, and he leaned his head on my hand. And he just looked at me, his eyes piercing through my soul. Silent tears were still escaping his eyes. He kept staring at me, in silence, as the tears still escaped his eyes. His eyes had lost their youthful shine. The only thing making them shine, now, was the tears.

Then, he opened his mouth and broke the silence. “Back there.” he said, gulping. “Back there, I yelled your name endlessly. Till my throat hurt, till I lost my voice.” he added, as his voice broke a little. I felt my eyes pricking a bit at his words. And before I could say something, I heard him taking a breath. “I never stopped thinking about you. You helped me to not turn into one of them. You were my anchor to my humanity. To everything I ever believed in. They kept beating me, torturing me till my body fell apart. Just to rebuild it and to do it all over again. They kept  saying terrible things about you and Sam. That you had forgotten about me, that you never loved me. But sometimes, I was able to remember the loving gaze you always give me, all your loving words. I was so scared to become a demon and that you…” his voice completely broke this time. Tears were now falling freely on my cheeks, completely overwhelmed by what he said. Images of what he had been through were flashing in my mind, making his words even more impactful as I let my imagination take over.

Dean stretched his right hand to slowly stroke my cheek with his calleous thumb. A small smile appeared on my face. His soft side was still there, meaning they failed to destroy him. Slowly, I bent my knees to give him a gentle kiss on his rosy lips. At first a bit surprised, he kissed me back, closing his eyes as he melted in my contact. I then ended the kiss and carefully sat next to him. His hand lightly took mine and his eyes were still on me. “Dean.”, I began softly. “What you are telling me proves that the demons failed miserably. They didn’t destroy you. You are still the most loving, and the most selfless person I know.” His eyes became a bit brighter as tears appeared again. “Those fuckers are just liars. They know nothing about love. About you. About us. They don’t know all the things I did to try to get you back. They don’t know how much I love you. They are unable to fathom a love like ours. I’m going to help you through it. We’ll fight the nightmares together.” I made a pause and looked at his face. The expression of his eyes, full of love,  made my heart swell. “I love you, Y/N” was all he said. But he didn’t need to add anything else. All the unspoken words he wanted to say could be read in his eyes. And he leaned again for a soft kiss.

After that kiss, I finally got up to get him a glass of water but a gentle hand snaked around my wrist and his broken voice whispered “ Please, don’t leave me.”  I turned my head to look in his direction.I surrendered the idea of water and simply replied softly “I didn’t have the intention to.” I swiftly closed the distance between us and embraced him in my arms. After a few minutes in this position, I made a gesture to invite Dean to lay down. And we finally both laid down on the bed. Dean cried a bit longer on my chest before falling asleep. “I love you.” I mumbled as I placed a kiss on his forehead and I soon fell asleep too.

@hobby27

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #supernatural x you #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural series #supernatural fandom #spn #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural season 4 #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester one shot

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Princess & The Playboy Masterlist

Summary: NFL Quarterback Dean Winchester has had his eyes set on Y/N Y/L/N since their college days. Back then he didn't have a shot with her and twelve years later he has even less of one given his never ending string of girlfriends. Y/N's a classy girl and she'd never go for someone as cocky as Dean. But they share a unique source of pain and maybe he can get her to see past the flirt long enough to see the real him...

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 45K

Warnings: language, angst, family trauma/loss, kidnapping

A/N: This series is complete!

_____

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

#supernatural #spn #football player!dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean au #dean x you #dean fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester series #spn series #au #football au

[dianawinchester03]

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist by @dianawinchester03

In this rewrite of CW's hit TV Show 'Supernatural'.

Y/N L/N is a longtime friend of the notorious Winchester Brothers, coming from a long line of hunters herself. Growing up with them, their fathers had a goal of avenging their wives deaths. Currently on her own hunting, much to her own fathers demise, she gets a call from her childhood crush, Dean Winchester. Notifying her of his fathers disappearance, will she join the brothers on the hunt to find their father? And will she resolve her relationship with her own?

=====================================

Prologue - Enter Y/N L/N

Season 1, Episode 1 - Pilot

Season 1, Episode 2 - Wendigo

Season 1, Episode 3 - Dead in Water

Season 1, Episode 4 - Phantom Traveler

Season 1, Episode 5 - Bloody Mary

Season 1, Episode 6 - Skin

Season 1, Episode 7 - Hook Man

Season 1, Episode 8 - Bugs

Season 1, Episode 9 - Home

Season 1, Episode 10 - Asylum

Season 1, Episode 11 - Scarecrow

Season 1, Episode 12 - Faith

Season 1, Episode 13 - Route 666

Season 1, Episode 14 - Nightmare

Season 1, Episode 15 - The Benders

Season 1, Episode 16 - Shadow

Season 1, Episode 17 - Hell House

_____________________

Also available on:

📖; ao3

📖; wattpad

_____________________

Authors Note: I finally learnt how to do a Masterlist! Hallelujah now life will be easier for you guys. Hope you check out my book and enjoy🫶I’ll update the list after each chapter release

Xoxo

#dean winchester #sam winchester #spn #supernatural #dean and sam #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #sam and dean #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural tv show #supernatural fanfiction #masterlist #dean winchester masterlist #supernatural masterlist #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #wattpad #dean winchester x female!reader #series rewrite #rewrite

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

In Case I Do Something Stupid

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Reader POV and Dean POV

Summary:  Reader is a grad student in college trying to work hard for her degree while maintaining a long distance relationship with Dean Winchester. This is part three of my "Before You Go" series (I'm so bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Age Difference, (Reader is early to mid-20's and Dean is probably early 30's), Established Relationship

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: There is some swearing (only a few times), implied reference of past sex (once or twice), Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

This fic includes song lyrics that are in italics and bold font.

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

***************************************************

Reader POV

"Did you get it?" Dean asks.

You're standing in front of your mailbox in the lobby of your apartment, cradling the phone between your shoulder and neck while you sort through your mail. There were a lot more bills than you were hoping for.

It had been a long day and all you really wanted was to go lie down, but you had a test in the morning, which meant that you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

It had been two months since the whole “Cooper” thing and despite Dean’s insistence for you to come over to the bunker if he ever showed his face, Cooper hadn’t appeared once.

Of course that meant that Suze was out of the apartment more to spend time with him, wherever it was he lived. Neither of you had spoken about the incident, not since the morning after when Dean was asleep and you snuck out to make coffee before he woke up and you ran into her. You remember the dark circles under her eyes and  the way her face was red and puffy from crying. You hadn’t known what to say so you nodded a “good morning” and walked back into your bedroom with coffee for you and Dean.

Dean was trying to convince you to move out, but the rent was so cheap you didn’t think you’d be able to find anything better. But with the summer approaching quickly, that meant you could spend more time at the bunker with Dean.

An elderly woman breezes through the main lobby of the apartment building, wearing a bright purple tracksuit. "Hi y/n."

"Hi Mrs. Travis." You respond, holding off from answering Dean.

"Where's your special friend?" She smiles widely at you.

The last time Dean had visited, Mrs. Travis asked him to come help her unclog her drain. You and Mrs. Travis sat at her kitchen table together watching Dean work under the sink while eating mass quantities of chocolate chip cookies. You'd been over to see her a few times since, and each time she told you that Dean reminded her of her husband and would ask when he was coming back.

"He's at home this week."

"What a shame. Tell him to come back anytime. I'll make some of those cookies for him again." She smiles before continuing on to the elevator.

"Who was that?"

"Your wife." You snort into the phone.

"Oh she's the best. Those cookies were so good." Dean moans. "Can you please bring some of those when you come this weekend?"

"I'll see what I can do." You sift through the mail in your hand. There's a collection of bills and a large green make-shift envelope that has been duct taped together with thick silver tape to cradle the contents.

"But did you get it?" Dean asks again.

"By it do you mean a creepy duct taped envelope? Because yes I did." You hold it by the corner turning it over to see Dean's untidy scrawl in black sharpie over the front of it.

This looks like a kindergartener made it. You imagine Dean sitting at his desk in the bunker with a pair of scissors, his tongue between his teeth in concentration and smile to yourself.

"Okay good." Dean sounds relieved.

"I could have just picked whatever this is up this weekend."

"You're telling me that you don't like getting mail?"

"I like getting mail, but this looks like a ransom note. Is someone holding you hostage? Because if that’s happening I don’t have any money and I'm sure you'll be fine." You smile, trying to find a way to open it, but the duct tape was thwarting you.

"No it’s not a ransom note." Dean pauses on the other side of the line. "Wait, you wouldn’t pay money for me?" 

"I mean. Maybe?" You shrug as if he could see you, smiling wide at the envelope.

"That’s reassuring."

"Alright so you’re saying that if I was being held for ransom, you’d give them Baby for me?"

Dean doesn't answer. You can hear him mulling it over in his head, but you already know the answer to that question. You knew that Baby always comes first.

“That’s a long pause Dean.”

"I’m sure the connection is bad. Because I did answer-" Dean begins to say.

"How is the connection bad?" You interrupt, raising an eyebrow.

He tries again. "I’m driving through a tunnel?" It comes out like a question and you can’t help but laugh at his attempts to cover his mistake.

"I thought you said you were back at the bunker."

"Well, then the reception here sucks." He finishes and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You sigh to yourself. The last time you'd seen Dean was only a week ago, but it wasn't enough. Long distance was hard, but you felt that you both were giving it your all. Not to mention that this weekend you were coming to see him at the bunker, and it was a long weekend, which meant you both didn't have to rush.

"Uh-huh. Sure. If I get kidnapped I’m just gonna call Sam.”

"We are definitely off topic.” Dean sighs. “But you did get it?”

“Yes Dean I did. Whatever it is." You trace a finger over the silver taped edge. "Is this construction paper? Dean, you are a grown man, why do you have construction paper?”

“There’s a lot of old shit in this bunker.”

“For your birthday I’m getting you envelopes.”

"Sexy."

You roll your eyes, but finally break through the paper and pull out a bright yellow and black contraption. “You bought me a Walkman?”

Dean had previously bought you a cassette tape player that was on your desk in your apartment so you could listen to the mixtapes he made. Dean often made you mixtapes of his favorite songs, most of which you knew given you had almost the same taste in music, but each time you listened to one of his tapes it was like he was there in the room with you. It made the distance between you less when you missed him.

"Where did you even get a Walkman?" You ask.

"I told you there's a lot of old shit in this bunker." He laughs. "But this way you can listen to the mixtapes when you go to class or when you're at the library.” He says it nonchalant, but there's an edge to his voice that you don't understand.

I wonder if he's worried about something.

The thought makes you worry about him. Dean worried about a lot of things, but he usually kept it to himself. You figured it was because of his dad. You didn’t know too much about Dean’s father, only that he was dead and that he put a lot of responsibility and pressure on Dean’s shoulders when it came to Sam and the job he did, which forced Dean to be more guarded and unable to admit when he needed help. You of course, were very good at reading him and whenever Dean was worried, you made it a point to have him talk to you about it, even if you didn't have a suggestion. You wanted him to be comfortable letting his walls down. You needed him to know that you were there for him and that he didn’t need to carry the burden alone no matter how heavy it was.

You examine the Walkman, running your thumb against each black button that line along the top and against the smooth plastic edges. “That was very thoughtful. Thanks Dean.”

“You’re welcome.” He pauses. “I-uh- also included a new tape.”

“Oh cool. I can't wait to listen to it. I loved the last one."  You pop out the cassette and look at the label.

Dean always came up with ridiculous  names that made you laugh, names like "Psyched to See You Mix Vol 1," and "It's a Good Day to Call Dean."

This one was called "In Case I Do Something Stupid." "I love the name. Does it mean that this is just a pre-recorded blanket apology if you're not careful on a hunt-"

"No it's not."

"Uh-huh." You put the tape back into the Walkman.

“But for this one, when you listen to it, can you call me? I really want to know what you think.” Dean continues.

“If it’s another 8 minute drum solo of Moby Dick-“

“It's not and it hurts me that you didn’t like it. But promise that you’ll call after you listen to it.”

“It wasn't bad. And will there be a test?” You tease him, confused that he's so adamant about you calling him after you listen. Whenever Dean gave you a mixtape he was excited to know what you thought, but was usually more nonchalant about it.

"No." Dean laughs, but it doesn't sound right. "I just want to know what you think."

"Well I can bring it with me when I come this weekend and we can listen to it together-"

"NO!" Dean exclaims. "I mean-um- you should listen to it now and call me." He recovers stumbling over his words.

"Okay." You draw it out confused as to why he is acting so weird. "I will take detailed notes over all of the songs and tell you how much I loved them."

“Okay.” Dean pauses again. “Um y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I- I’m gonna be at the bunker for a few days researching so you can call me anytime-“ He says it quickly, not in the cool and collected way he usually spoke.

“Dean are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? You sound a little weird."

"I'm sure it's just the connection." Dean pauses again. "I-"

"Dean?"

“I miss you.” He says it hesitantly, and for a second you think that he was going to say something else.

“I miss you too. I promise I’ve just got the one test and then I’ll be there this weekend.”

"Okay."

"Okay."

You could feel the three little words hovering on the tip of your tongue, the three little words you would have gladly told him five months ago when you first started officially dating. You knew that you were in love with Dean, had been in love with him from the moment your eyes locked with his, but the problem was that you'd never said it to anyone else. Of course you'd never felt about anyone the way you felt about him. He was kind, caring, sexy, protective, and just the right amount of batshit crazy that always kept you guessing.

I miss him so much.

Dean hadn’t said it either. But you understood that he was a little slow when it came to stuff like that and it wasn’t that you thought he didn’t love you. Dean said it plenty of other ways. Not to mention you figured he probably also hadn’t said it to anyone before and might be afraid to admit it aloud.

"I'll see you this weekend okay?" You sigh into the phone while wishing that Dean was there to hold you.

"Can't wait. Bye Sweetheart."

"Bye Dean."

****************************

Three days pass and you still haven’t listened to the tape. Honestly you forgot about it,  too wrapped up in studying for the test and preparing a lab report that took twelve hours to finish, all the while your lab partner, Tim, was frantically proofreading over your shoulder so you could turn it in by the deadline.

It was Thursday night, one day from seeing Dean, and you were sitting in the library for your overnight shift. You reach into your backpack for your notebook, but when you pull it out, the headphones from the Walkman are tangled in the spiral of the notebook.

Oh no. You think to yourself. You couldn't believe that you forgot about the tape and you wonder if that's why Dean hadn't texted or called the past few days, because he was waiting for you to call him to tell him what you thought.

You carefully untangle the headphones from the notebook, before raising your head to look around the library. It was midnight, which meant that the only people in the library were you and the guy in the corner slumped over a stack of textbooks half asleep. His loud snores echoed through the empty room, something else that reminded you of Dean. He didn't believe that he snored, until you recorded it on your phone and played it back to him. But, you didn’t hate that he snored. Sometimes you hated how quiet it was in your bedroom when he wasn't there sleeping beside you, that was usually when you called him just to hear his voice through the phone and closed your eyes to imagine he was there.

Dean never cared what time it was when you called him, in fact, Dean liked it when you called him on your overnight shifts and when you were walking back to your apartment. He liked to make sure that nothing happened to you.

You didn't think that the sleeping man in the corner would need any help anytime soon, so you slip the headphones over your ears and hit play. But when the first song starts, you're confused.

The first song is one of your favorites, "I'll Have to Say I Love You In A Song,"  by Jim Croce. A singer that you liked to listen to when you winded down at the end of the day and also a singer that was not Dean's favorite. He often teased you about it. For Dean to include the song on the tape was unusual, but you figured that it was because he knew you loved it.

"Well I know it's kinda late,

I hope I didn't wake you,

But what I've gotta say can't wait,

I know you'd understand,

'Cause every time I tried to tell you,

The words just came out wrong,

So I'll have to say I love you in a song…"

You hum along to the music while tapping your foot along to the melody as you reach back into your bag to pull out your textbook and pencil case for your highlighters and note tabs.

The second song starts as you turn back to your textbook, finding the right chapter to begin studying. You had expected the next song to also be a Jim Croce song or another song that you liked given the name of the mixtape. You assumed that "In Case I Do Something Stupid" meant that the tape would be filled with songs you loved to make you feel better if Dean pissed you off, but the next song is not one you know. You can tell it's Kansas, one of Dean's favorite bands, and one that you didn't often listen to before you met him.

"…Stand beside me

I will never let you fall

Stand beside me

I'll come whenever you call…"

You smile to yourself at the lyrics, it makes you think about how dependable Dean is. How he's willing to drop anything and show up whenever you need him. The melancholy tone of the song makes you miss him even more.

The smell of coffee wafts from the 24/7 coffee shop in the lobby, drawing you up from your seat to answer the siren call. When you get back with a iced coffee, you place the headphones over your ears once more and hit play.

The next two songs you recognize, both Journey songs, "Open Arms" and "Faithfully." You’d heard "Open Arms" before, but you'd never taken the time to listen to the lyrics:

"So here I am

With open arms

Hoping you'll see

What your love means to me

Open Arms…"

When "Faithfully" follows, you can't help but feel a nagging sensation in the back of you mind when you listen to the lyrics of the soft ballad like you're missing something:

"…Lost without you

And being apart ain't

easy on this love affair…

Oh, girl, you stand by me

I'm forever yours

Faithfully…"

You highlight another definition in your textbook while chewing on the inside of your cheek. You did like Journey.

Maybe Dean just wanted to include songs that I liked after the whole 8-minute Moby Dick drum solo fiasco.

When the next song comes on you can tell that it's a Led Zeppelin song, given the familiar tone of the lead singer. You continue to listen, focusing on the chorus:

"Oh, all of my love, all of my love to you, now

All of my love, oh yes,

All of my love to you…"

You sit there for a second in the brief silence that follows the song, before you shrug. Dean always included a Led Zeppelin song in his mixtapes because he wanted to continue your education of music with one of his favorite bands.

The next song begins and you immediately know what it is, "Feel Like Makin' Love" by Bad Company. Dean had included the song in a previous mixtape, not to mention you had heard it before on a tape he played when the two of you were together in his room at the bunker. Your cheeks blush as you remember what you were doing when it played. He had plenty of mixtapes that were devoted to THAT particular subject.

But this time you really sit and listen to the words of the song, highlighter poised high over the page:

"Darling, I don't live without you

And your love…

Darling, if I live without you,

I live without love…"

It makes you think of Dean again. You sigh to yourself wishing that it was already time to go back to see him.

There are actually some nice lyrics in this song. You think making a note in the margins of the textbook perched on your knee. You look back up to survey the empty room. The only patron is still in the corner snoring away.

You sit back in your chair, textbook forgotten and pause the tape. You couldn't help but notice that all the songs had a particular theme and you couldn't understand why.

When you hit play the next two are Van Halen, one of your favorite bands, and you immediately recognize both songs. The quick pace of "So This is Love" washes over you, making your heartbeat spike with the beat of the drums.

"Yes, she knows she's mine

And ain't letting go

So this is love?

Ooh I need you love,

Baby, got to have your love…"

Your breath catches in your chest as "When It's Love" starts to play and the smooth sound of the piano tickles against your skin.

"When it's love

Ooh, when it's love

Hey it'll last forever

When it's love

You and I

We're going to feel this thing together…"

And before you can think about the words the next song follows, "Is This Love?" by Whitesnake.

"I feel my love for you growing stronger

Day by day

And I can't wait to see you again

So I can hold you in my arms

Is this love that I'm feeling?

Is this love or am I dreaming?

This must be love

'Cause it's really got a hold on me…"

The next song that follows is Styx, "Babe" and you had heard it on a previous playlist Styx tape that Dean loaned you when he found out that you'd never heard anything by the band before. But this time the song catches you off guard.

"'Cause I'll be lonely without you

And I'll need your love to see me through

But please believe me, my heart is in your hands

'Cause I'll be missing you

Babe, I love you…"

You sit there in the silence that follows "Babe," unable to stop the rapid beat of your heart recognizing the familiar theme with all of the other songs on the mixtape and unable to stop focusing on the words of the song. You take a sip of your iced coffee, tapping your highlighter against your textbook while trying to gather your thoughts. But you couldn't focus on anything on the page. Your thoughts turn to the funny name that Dean decided to call the mixtape.

It's just a coincidence. Dean made another mixtape with songs that he wanted to share with me-

And then the Jim Croce song, "I'll Have to Say I Love You In a Song," comes back on. And you understand. It was exactly what Dean was doing. He was saying "I love you" the only way he knew how.

You look at the label of the cassette again, running your thumb over the writing. You thought that the "In Case I Do Something Stupid" title Dean wrote, meant listen to the tape whenever he pissed you off for being careless on a hunt, but you realize the title referred to if Dean hurt you, if he broke your heart somehow along the way, the tape was a reminder and a confession of his love. A reminder that he wasn't going to give you up, and that he was going to fix it the best way he could.

*****************************************

Dean POV

He tapped his pen anxiously against the ancient text as he laid across his bed, glancing every few seconds at the dark phone on his left.

You still hadn’t called.

It’d been three days since you said you’d listen to the mixtape, three days of absolute agony. Dean sighed looking back at the text but he couldn’t focus on any of the words.

What if she listened to it and didn’t love me? What if that’s why she wasn’t calling? He thought to himself, frown deepening.

He’d thought about saying it to you a million times, almost said it on the phone three days ago, but he was afraid. Dean didn’t like admitting that, but it was true. His fear that you would reject his declaration of love kept him from whispering the three little words that he’d wanted to say from the moment you’d met and patched him up two years ago. He'd never said it before, but he'd never wanted to say it to anyone before he met you.

He glances back at his phone hopefully as the screen illuminates, but it's only a notification from his email. It was past six am, but every time Dean tried to go to sleep all he could think about was you, you and the fact that you hadn't called or texted.  Dean taps the pen on the book again, as his heart continues to sink.

Why is this so hard? Why can’t I just say it to her? I should call and tell her right now- Dean picks up his phone, but then puts it down.

Because what if you had listened to the tape and this was your way of avoiding him. What if you’d never call him back and that was it? What if this was your way of saying that you didn't love him and you didn't know how to get around the awkwardness of calling to tell him that you didn't?

His heart seized in his chest to think that. His mind began to circle the drain again, thinking of all the things he said to you the night that you told him that you wanted him. He had been surprised of course. You were so different than him, so warm and full of life that it made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun whenever he was around you. He didn't realize that you'd wanted him as much as he wanted you, in fact, half the time Dean believed that he didn't deserve to be with someone like you, not after all the things he'd done.

Dean rolls over on his back to look up at the ceiling of his bedroom, tracing the cracks in the metal and the familiar patches of rust, hoping for sleep to give him some relief.

But he can't, all he can think about is you.

Dean remembers his younger years, his years of stringing women along and flirting with whatever caught his eye. But you made him better man and that's why he loved you. You knew him better than anyone else, saw his flaws, allowed him to be open and vulnerable for the first time. You didn't make him feel like less of a man when he expressed emotions and you allowed him to break. Dean couldn't wait to see you again, because when he was with you, he didn't feel the albatross hanging around his neck.

A loud, frantic knocking at his door stirs him from his thoughts.

"I'm not in the mood Sammy." Dean grumbles. He throws his muscular forearm over his eyes to shut out the light above and to staunch the flow of self-deprecating thoughts.

The knocking persists.

Dean sighs loudly, before standing from his bed and walking to the solid metal door, his hotdog pajama pants swishing against his ankles.

"I said I'm not-" Dean looks up where Sam's face usually would be, but sees nothing.

What?

Then he drops his gaze and he sees you. Your cheeks are flushed bright red, hair blown back away from your face in tangles, wearing Dean's favorite pair of jeans, the ones that hug you so tight that it makes him have a hard time focusing. Your smile breaks something in his chest, spreading warmth and comfort through his body like a wildfire.

Dean can't remember the last time he felt comfort before he met you. When you were with him it felt like home, something that he was missing for so long in his life.

"Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing he-" He barely gets the words out before you throw yourself at him. Dean stumbles back with the force of your tackle as your lips find his, arms wrapping around the back of his neck to grip his bare shoulders and pull his face further down to yours.

Dean falls backward on the bed with you on top of him, the thick volume pressing into his back painfully, but he doesn't feel it all he's aware of is you. How your body feels on top of his, how your lips move together as one, and the soft sounds you make into his mouth when he deepens the kiss and drags his hands down to your hips.

You pull back out of breath, lips bright pink. "I listened to it. I'm so sorry it took me so long."

"You did?" Dean's hands are comfortably seated on top of your hips, squeezing just enough that he knows you're here, you're real, and he didn't fall asleep.

"Yeah, and I didn't want to say this on the phone." Your eyes are bright. "I love you too Dean."

Dean's heart skips a beat, an uncontrollable smile shining from his face with your confession. He can't remember a single solitary moment in which he'd felt so much love, comfort, and happiness surging beneath his skin.

"You do?" He didn't mean to ask it, but the little voice was back spreading doubt.

"Of course I do. It's impossible not to." You lean down to kiss him again, your fingertips flitting over his muscular torso in a way that makes pins and needles trace in their wake. "But I'd like to hear you say it." Your forehead presses against his, hair tickling his cheeks.

"I love you y/n." Dean whispers. He watches the way your blush swells over your cheeks, smile widening with his words. And all he wants is to make you smile like that for the rest of his life, to bask in your glow because you are the sun.

Dean secures his hand at the back of your head and draws you down to him, losing himself in the warmth of your love and the soft promise of what tomorrow would bring.

**********************************************

Thank You For Reading!

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Taglist: @daisy-the-quake @brightlilith @roseblue373 @sunnyhummingbee

#spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #spn fandom #supernatural fandom #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural #spn fanfiction #dean x you #supernatural fanfic series

[daughterofcain-67]

𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃: 𝓅𝓉 1

(Dean Winchester x Artist/Bartender!Female Reader)

(𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 2) (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 3)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re an artist that fell in love with a mysterious boy right before college. Then he left without any way to contact him. Decades later you’re an artist/bartender and you’re surprised to see who comes walking through the door.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none that I can think of.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I have no idea who actually did the cover art for The Prince of Thorns, King of Thorns and Emperor of Thorns by Mark Lawrence, the comic illustrations of the Maximum Ride series by James Patterson, or Cinder by Marissa Meyer. But I loved the artwork for the cover art and illustrations, so they deserve all the credit for their creativity. ((The artwork and references to the books is just to use to build Y/N’s portfolio, I do not own any of the artworks.))

It wasn’t easy being an artist. And it didn’t help that you seemed to be a starving artist at that. Everything seemed to have been done already. You supposed that your creative mind wasn’t as unique as you originally thought it would be.

You had countless sketchbooks in your home, just on one of your many bookshelves, purely dedicated to the sketchbooks you’ve had over the years. You’ve been sketching and drawing for as long as you can remember. You picked up on using water color and oil pastels sometime in high school when you were being experimental with your styles. But over the years you found that your luck expanding on your career was sort of a fifty fifty shot.

When someone hadn’t commissioned you to paint a wall of theirs, or if you weren’t working on a cover for some author - which was also another rare opportunity - You spent your time working at a bar in Wisconsin. It was some way to make some money after all, plus you did get to meet some pretty interesting people.

As for tonight, it was just another Thursday night for you and you were on your break. With that being said, you had your sketchbook out and you were sketching yet again.

Lately, in your personal sketchbook, you would draw the familiar face of a man you used to know. One that probably didn’t even remember your name, but you’d always remember his. You’d always remember his beautiful eyes that reminded you of the green forest, or the way his smile would light up any room he’d step into. You could remember the smell of his leather jacket, or the way that unusual pendant looked a little too good around his neck. You could still remember the sound of his laugh, or the flirtatious little tone and his mischievous smirk. He was a man you knew you could never forget, even after all these years.

“Drawing that mystery man of yours again, Y/N?” A work friend of yours named Danielle asked.

You glanced up at her while she adjusted her glasses and sat in front of you, “He’s no mystery.. just a memory.”

“You know, if you really can’t forget about him then maybe you should look for him.” She suggested and you shook your head.

“That’s not possible. Even when we first met during the summer before my freshman year of college, he was always traveling around with his father. It was a part of his career. And if anything, the guy’s still going it. They always traveled around the country.” You explained and Danielle pouted a little.

“You mean you can’t even track down what business it was? Not even by phone number or anything? Some company they ran.” She said and you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Did he even tell you what kind of business he was a part of?” You shook your head.

“No… he was really secretive and he always told me he didn’t want to freak me out. A part of me wonders if he didn’t trust me. Then after like two weeks together he ghosted me.” You admitted.

“And you’re still obsessing over him? Come on, you’ve really got to let it go. If he was that much of a douche to ghost you and if he didn’t even leave you a way to contact him, then you have got to move on.” Danielle told you and you knew deep down she was right.

You looked down at the picture again of your ‘mystery man’ as Danielle liked to call him. Just as you were about to put the pencil to your paper once more, Danielle’s hand got in the way and she dragged the book across the table and rotated it so she could take a look at your work.

“Okay, this guy can’t actually be real. No one is that attractive.” She said with a chuckle before she looked up at you once more.

“So what did you say his name was again?” She asked as she handed you the sketchbook again.

“Dean… Dean Winchester.”

“Dean… Not a bad name I guess. Better than like Brad or something.” She laughed.

“Any chance that he’s a reader? Maybe he’s seen your cover art on some books.” You shook your head.

“No, he’s not much of a reader. His brother is a reader though so.. maybe? Although who knows if Sam would read any of the books I’ve done the artwork for.” You shrugged, unsure if Sam read any fantasy novels or science fiction.

“His brother’s name is Sam? That’s a little anticlimactic isn’t it? Is it short for something?”

“I don’t think it’s anticlimactic. Simplistic. And no, I don’t think it’s short for anything, but I never really asked Dean about it. Never met Sam.”

“Hey! Y/N! Danielle! Y’all can’t leave me by myself, I just got here!” A second voice said and that was your other friend, Callie. She had a bit of a southern twang in her voice that was definitely different compared to your other coworkers.

You and Danielle both laughed and you got up from your seat. You closed your sketchbook and went back to the back of the bar to put your sketchbook in your backpack. Then you began to resume your shift. The sooner the night was over with, the sooner you could go home and maybe check your emails and see if anyone has reached out to you for any projects.

The next several hours went by and it was closing time at the bar. You walked out of the bar with the two coworkers.

“Have you two heard the news yet about the Nelson’s wife?” Callie asked and you glanced over at her, brow arched upward.

“No. I didn’t even know something happened.” You said.

“Well apparently when Mr. Nelson came home last night, his door was opened up and there were some kind of freaky claw marks on the door. When the boss went inside he saw that his wife’s guts were literally outside of her body. But you wanna know the weird thing of it all?”

“There’s a weird part? Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better!” You asked.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Callie replied, not finding your sarcasm amusing at the moment.

“The weirdest part was that her heart was missing. No weapon was found, no evidence of some kind of fur if it really was an animal attack. The police have searched the place top to bottom to find any clues or evidence of an animal attack. But honestly I’m surprised the bar was even opened tonight.” Callie continued.

“That explains why I hadn’t seen the boss tonight. He must be going through a lot. I couldn’t imagine losing my boyfriend in such a horrific way… and to actually see his wife like that? I can’t imagine.” Danielle said and you frowned a little.

As difficult as it was to learn about the loss of your boss’ wife, you didn’t think that your boss would be missing that much. The Mrs. didn’t exactly have a great reputation after all. She was a bit of the town harlot to put it lightly. It was common knowledge that she had been cheating on her husband for the past three years with several men.

“How is Mr. Nelson taking it?” You asked.

“Well as far as I know he’s been at the sheriff’s office all day for an interrogation. You know how it is, always suspecting the spouse first. I don’t know if he’s actually had the time to really mourn.” Callie replied.

“Well… surely it’s just some freakish accident. It couldn’t possibly happen again. The same animal wouldn’t strike the same town twice, right?” You said.

“I wouldn’t think so.” Callie said.

“Well just incase that animal is still around… make sure you get home safe! Why don’t we create a group text now just to make sure we all get home okay.” Danielle suggested.

“Honestly… that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” You said and pulled out your phone.

Once the three of you were on the group chat, you split off into your different vehicles to go home. You made it to your apartment and shut the door behind you. You tossed your bag on the couch before you plopped on the furniture, then you reached for the remote and turned on the television.

There wasn’t anything good on TV so you changed the channel to Boomerang and watched some cartoons. They were playing the old episodes of Scooby-Doo and you smiled to yourself. You hadn’t watched this show in years and you felt nostalgic watching it. Then your mind wandered off to the old days. You started to think about the summer with Dean.

You shook your head, deciding that Danielle was right and you really should forget about Dean. It’s been years and you never saw Dean again after the best two weeks of your life. It wasn’t worth thinking about. So you grabbed your computer and checked some emails to see if anyone’s reached out.

Evidently there was an email for some author named Marissa Meyer. She was emailing you to compliment your illustrations for James Patterson’s Maximum Ride comics and for the cover art of some other books. Honestly you were surprised. She was writing to see if you’d be willing to do some cover art for one of her books. She emailed you the plot of whatever story this would be and she said the title she planned was Cinder. It seemed to be an interesting plot so you started typing out the response, letting the author know you’d be willing to make the cover art and that you just needed a deadline for it.

Shortly after you sent the email, you started looking at some inspiration photos on Google and Pinterest and that was when your phone started ringing. When you glanced down, you saw that it was a group call with Danielle and Callie. You smiled and you answered the phone before you lifted the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Oh good, you answered!” Danielle exclaimed on the other line and you chuckled.

“Don’t worry, no animals have broken in to attack me yet.” You clarified and Callie laughed.

“See, I told you there was nothing for you to worry about. She’s probably getting ready to draw something and you broke her concentration.” Callie said and you hummed a little.

“Haven’t started just yet. Though about water coloring though.” You admitted since it had been a while since you’d used that medium.

“Well next time send a text! That was the whole reason why we made the group chat, remember?” Danielle continued and you grinned.

“Sorry for worrying you. I’m alright, and I’m glad both of you are alright too.” You insisted.

“Are both of you working tomorrow night?” You asked.

“I know I am.” Danielle replied with a little bit of an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not. I’ve got the rest of the week off.” Callie spoke up.

“The whole week? So we’ll see you when, Monday?” You asked.

“Yep. Needed a little me time and what perfect time would that be than having the weekend all to yourself?” She said.

“What about Dylan?” Danielle asked, referring to Callie’s boyfriend.

“He said he was… busy with something.” Callie said.

“You know, Danielle, you and Chris may like this one restaurant on South drive.” Callie said, talking about Danielle’s boyfriend and you felt like the odd one out, not having gone on a date in about three years.

“I’ll let the two of you talk about your boyfriends and your little date ideas.” You said and you were about to hang up before the both of them started talking to you to not hang up.

“Woah woah woah! Why don’t we get you hooked up with someone?” Callie asked.

“Yeah, that would be fun! I mean it’s been a while so what’s the harm in it? We can take you to the bar after work this Saturday night.”

You arched a brow before you looked at your bag that still had the sketchbook with the pictures of Dean in it. You supposed maybe going out this weekend maybe help you get over the memory. Dean was more of a phantom of that summer anyway.

“I suppose that could work. I get off at six. I can get home and get ready by seven or something.” You replied.

“Oh good! Maybe on break tomorrow you and I can go looking for some cute dresses for you to wear!” You cringed at Danielle’s words and you used your free hand to rub the back of your neck.

“Great.” You muttered with nervous laughter.

“Hang on, guys. I have to go. Dylan is calling me.” Callie groaned with some sort of annoyance in her tone and you wondered if everything was alright. However before you asked, she hung up.

“Wonder if she’s alright.” You said since Danielle was on the other line.

“Honestly I think she and Dylan have been in a bit of a rough patch recently. I wouldn’t be surprised if they break up by the end of the month.” She sighed.

“Rough patch? What’s been going on?”

“Well from what Callie’s ranted about, Dylan is developing some trust issues ever since she told him she didn’t want to live together.”

“What? They’ve only been dating for like a month and he wanted to move in?”

“Something like that…”

“Well you’re being awfully gracious for giving them the end of the month to end things. I’ll give them a week and a half if that.” You chuckled.

“You never know. Anyway, it’s getting late. See you tomorrow?” Danielle said.

“I’ll be there.”

Dean rubbed the back of his head as he walked down the stairs. Then he tied the strap of his robe around his waist as he made his way into the library just to see Sam reading a book. Not much of a surprise there. But this time it didn’t seem like it was a research book in his hands.

“Whatcha got there?” Dean asked, hearing his brother hum in response.

“It’s a fantasy series by Mark Lawrence. I’m reading the second one called King of Thorns.” Sam spoke.

“I didn’t exactly take you to be a fantasy ready. Always thought of you as more of a realist.” Dean admitted as he sat down across from his brother before he moved the laptop across the table. Then Dean opened it up so he could see if there was any new cases that sounded like his and Sam’s thing.

“Charlie recommended the book to me. Said that it was pretty good. Like it’s not Lord of the Rings good or Harry Potter good, but she thought it was worth the read nonetheless.” Sam said.

Dean hummed as he looked over at the book again and he caught a glimpse of the front cover, “Cover art’s pretty good.”

“Yeah… Charlie said the artist has done quite a little bit. She’d done the cover art of this trilogy and the illustrations for some sort of comic series based off some YA science fiction books. I think her name is.. oh hang on I think her name might be in the book.” Sam said as he flipped to the back.

“Oh here it is. Cover artist, Y/N L/N.”

Dean’s gaze shot from the book in Sam’s hand to Sam right after he read the name. That was a name he hadn’t heard in years. Felt like centuries really.

“Let me see that. I want to get a better look at the cover.” Dean said and Sam put his bookmark between the pages and handed the book to him.

As Dean looked at the cover, he admired the work. He suddenly began to recall that summer when he was a couple decades younger. Still fresh and when John was still around. He remembered meeting this beautiful girl in Wisconsin. You, in fact.

That was the best two weeks of his entire life. He remembered how great of an artist you were, how much he loved looking through the sketchbooks you showed him. He remembered you telling him way back when that you wanted to be an artist. Seems like you’ve come quite a ways if you’ve done some illustrations and some book covers.

“Has this artist done anything else?” Dean asked curiously.

“Since when were you interested in art?” Sam asked with a smirk as he leaned in, his arms folded in front of him on the table. Then the look of realization went across his face.

“Wait… Y/N. Isn’t that the girl from-“

“Wisconsin? Yeah.” Dean said and he chuckled.

“Honestly the best summer I’ve ever had.” Dean admitted.

“Why didn’t you ever go back to visit her? Is she a hunter? Maybe she could help us on some hunt sometime.” Sam said, trying to be encouraging but Dean shook his head a little.

“No, she wasn’t a hunter. In fact she was far from it. When I met her, she hadn’t even started college yet. Just graduated high school. She had no idea of the darkness in the world that we deal with and well… I wanted to spare her from it.” He said.

“Sounds like you had it bad. Dad wondered why it took you two weeks to end the case. He said it was awful long for you.” Sam smirked.

“Honestly, yeah. I did. if I wasn’t a hunter, I might have stayed. Maybe even go to summer school or work as a mechanic there to make a living just to stick around while she was on her campus. She was a sweet girl but I knew if I stayed, monsters would come and I didn’t want her exposed to that kind of shit just because I stayed around. I finished the case in a week but I stayed the extra week before I had to decide to move on.” Dean continued.

“Do you ever regret it?” Sam asked.

“Honestly, I don’t think she would even remember me.” Dean replied and handed the book to Sam yet again. Sam took it and set it down on the table beside him.

“I think she’d remember… anyway, as far as I know she’s just illustrated for that series and the covers for this series.” Sam said but he pulled out his phone to search your name.

“Here’s something… She’s painted some walls in the local elementary school building as well as a pediatrician’s office. But honestly I think that’s the only commissions she’s had. Other than that, based off her social media she’s just working in a bar.”

“A bartender? A girl of her talent should be working for some comic company. Maybe even character designing for some animation studio.” Dean said with a bit of surprise.

“Well, sometimes people aren’t always that lucky in life. But I agree with you, she is good.” Sam sighed as he closed out his phone before putting it back in his pocket. Then he turned his attention back to Dean who was looking back at the computer screen in front of him.

“Find anything worth while?” He asked his older brother.

“Well speaking of Wisconsin…. Turns out some bar owner’s wife was found dead. Police are calling it an animal attack but there wasn’t any evidence of an animal left behind. Then again there wasn’t exactly any evidence of humans either because apparently, intestines were outside the poor woman’s body and her heart was missing.” He said.

“So… werewolf maybe?” Sam suggested.

“That’s my first thought. We might as well head that way and check it out for ourselves.” Dean said and Sam nodded before Dean decided to get up so he could take a shower and get dressed before going on the hunt.

When Dean made it into his room, he decided that’s before he’d get dressed he’d look for something.

Honestly he wasn’t even sure if he still had this amongst his memorabilia. He didn’t exactly carry ugh outside of his pictures of his parents, Bobby and Sam and himself when they were younger. But when Dean opened up the auto man at the end of his bed and started looking through old pictures and papers, he moved his father’s journal to the side and then he found a black folder.

Dean let out a breath of relief as he pulled the black folder out and he sat down on the bed. The field was made of paper and it was a bit worn with the years of being moved around since they went from motel to motel a lot. Then Dean opened up the folder and he was pleasantly surprised to find that what he was looking for was still inside.

Inside of the folder there was a sheet of sketch paper with a drawing of both you and him on it. It was an old picture, Dean’s hair was longer and he didn’t quite have bags under his yees from the years of losing sleep because of a hunt. Then there was you, and you were even more gorgeous in person. Your talented hand didn’t give you justice on paper.

In the picture, you were wrapped up in his arms while the two of you sat down on a blanket in the grass. Both of you had a peaceful expression as you looked out at the lake. Dean could still remember the way you felt in his arms, remembering the moment you had drawn in the picture. It was the second to the last night that he spent in Wisconsin.

Dean smiled at the memory, knowing that even after so many years you still had a piece of his heart. But then reality started to get to him and he wondered if you had been married after college graduation. Did you have a family of your own? Dean calculated and by this time you had to be in your mid thirties like he was, right? Most people were arrived by then if they were lucky, and any man would be lucky to have someone so special like you.

Honestly Dean couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you still thought about him once in a while. Maybe late at night when you were watching a movie drinking some wine and drawing one of those covers Sam showed him, he wondered if you thought about him.

Dean put the picture back into the folder and placed it on the night table beside his bed before he grabbed his bag and some clothes to pack up. Then he got his other pair of jeans and a shirt to wear before he headed off to the shower.

Two days had gone by and that was the night you were supposed to go out with Danielle and Callie to some sort of club or whatever. Honestly you weren’t sure if dancing was your thing. You weren’t in your twenties anymore after all but when you were texting Danielle about it all she told you was that it was something to put you out there, give you something fun to look forward to this weekend.

At the moment you weren’t really focused on your little outing that night. You were a little more concerned about the fact that you hadn’t heard from Callie in the last couple of days.

It wasn’t like Callie. She typically texted you and Danielle at least once daily whether she texted some sort of joke or sent a picture of some silly picture first thing in the morning before going about her day and living her life on her days off. But it had been two days and you found it odd that she hadn’t sent any memes, jokes, or even talked about going out that night.

When the door opened you happened to glance up and you saw Danielle running in with a frantic expression across her features. When Danielle made eye contact with you, you realized she was rushing over to the bar to meet you.

“Y/N, have you heard from Callie lately? I saw her boyfriend this morning and he was out at some diner and he acted like he was just fine while he was sitting beside some girl.” She rambled, catching you off guard with how fast she was talking.

“What? No I haven’t, wait he was with another girl?” You asked.

“Yeah and you wanna know what else? I heard Nelson was visited by two guys in suits. I think the FBI is looking into it. Maybe they caught a glimpse of something with Nelson’s wife and they’re looking into it.”

“But the cops already talked to Nelson. That was the whole point of him not stopping by the bar at all like two days ago. Why would the FBI need to talk to him again? Poor guy’s already been through enough.” You said.

“Well, honestly I don’t think Nelson minds. I bet he’s a little glad he doesn’t have to deal with the constant heartbreak of his wife bumping ugliest with different men every other night.”

“Oh come on, that’s a little bit of an exaggeration.” You tried to give the former Mrs. Nelson the benefit of the doubt.

“Would you really be surprised if it was that often though?” Danielle smirked, you rolled your eyes a little before you started putting some of the clean glasses away to prepare for customers.

“Do you think the FBI will come here to see if we know anything? You know the manager’s out of town this week. What do we tell them if they happen to come in?” Danielle asked, starting to get a little worried, not much to your surprise.

“Danielle, breathe. If they come in and you spot them, just send them to me. I’ve got it covered. Not that they’ll ask anything we have any knowledge about anyway.” You said and Danielle took a deep breath before exhaling and nodding.

“I’m still worried about Callie.” She said.

“Well think about it… if you and your boyfriend broke up, are you going to want to spend a lot of time on your phone for the first couple of days? Or are you going to want to sleep and isolate for a while before you start making public appearances again.” You reasoned.

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll tell you what. After we clock out tonight, we can go over to Callie’s house and check up on her and make sure she’s alright.” You insisted.

“Okay… yeah that sounds like a plan.”

“Now… why don’t you go ahead and clock in and we can get the show on the road. They may not even come at all, and Callie will more than definitely be alright.” You insisted and Danielle nodded.

With that being said the two of you got to work. You were busily serving different customers at the bar with different drinks. Some you were used to making but apparently there were some visitors and they wanted something fancy. Two preppy looking guys had just walked through the door and made themselves comfortable at the bar. They looked like they were the country club type of guys.

“Hey, Miss! Can I get a Boulevardier cocktail over here?” One of them said. He had waved ginger hair and he was wearing a blue golf shirt.

“Yeah and I’ll have Vieux Carre cocktail, Darlin.” The other said. He was blond, hair parted to the side and he wore an orange golf shirt with white stripes.

These people must’ve had the worst taste in clothing, and an even worse taste in drinks. You couldn’t even try and pronounce these things and you weren’t even sure if you had the right ingredients for these stupid sounding drinks.

“Sure. I’ll get right on that for you fellas.” You replied and went to the back to get the glasses. Then you pulled out the phone to see what the heck those drinks were. Luckily for you, you had some similar ingredients, but you weren’t working in a fancy bar so you had some pretty basic drinks, they’ll just have to deal with generic.

You grabbed what you needed and started to make the drinks and you thought you heard Danielle’s voice followed by two gruff sounding voices. Yay, more customers.

You were too focused on making the drinks but that was when Danielle started walking towards the bar with the two men she was talking to.

“Y/N? I’ve got a couple of agents that would like to speak with you.” Danielle called.

When you glanced over you saw a familiar green pair of eyes, the ones that you’ve drawn numerous times. They’ve changed though, like they’ve seen so much more. But seeing Dean there… it was like everything in your world stopped and you accidentally dropped the glasses you needed.

The sound of the glass shattering on the floor snapped you out of it.

You immediately started looking for a broom but Danielle started rushing over to help you, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it for you. What did these guys order?”

“Thank you… Some cocktails with fancy names. I’ll send you the recipes.” You said as you wiped your hands on the apron.

“You okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” She said and you nodded a little.

“Yeah, I’m okay… I’ll tell you later.” You told her, not wanting to be wrong if your suspicions are correct.

You nibbled on your bottom lip softly before letting it go and you walked over to the two federal agents.

Dean was straightening up his tie uncomfortably. All these years later and he still hated these damned monkey suits but then he felt Sam nudge his arm and when Dean looked up, he could feel his breath taken away.

No, it couldn’t be you could it?

You looked so beautiful, time seemed to have done wonders for you and Dean almost found it hard to breathe at the sight of you.

Of all the towns this case had to take place in, it just had to be the one you lived in. Have you heard anything about the case? You didn’t know about all the ugliness out there yet, did you?

“My friend said you wanted to speak with me? How can I help you?”

God your voice brought back so many memories, but Dean couldn’t dwell on them. Besides, you probably forgot about him so what was the point? Still… it was eating at his mind.

“Um… yeah… Agent Peart, could you get us a couple of drinks and maybe talk to one of the other bartenders?” Dean said.

Sam looked over and raised a brow skeptically. Dean was lucky Sam didn’t really question it and the younger Winchester walked off, giving Dean the time to be alone with you.

“So Ms… L/N, right?” Dean asked, almost hesitant.

But he watched the corner of your lips turn upward into a smile, “Yes, Agent Winchester.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you did remember him after all.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d recall…”

“Dean, it may have been a few years since that summer but I’m not old enough for dementia.” You joked.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little and the two of you found a place to sit at the bar table. It’s been so long since he’s been this close to you and it felt just like it did before.

“So how’ve you been? How’s your father and the business?” You asked, Dean remembered that he never told you the exact truth. You had a lot to catch up on he supposed.

“Dad um… well he passed several years ago. About five years after that summer, actually.” Dean said and he watched the way you began to frown.

“I’m sorry to hear that… I remember how you used to talk about him and how close you were.” You told him and he gave a bittersweet smile.

“Things well.. they changed in the five years after. A lot did actually. But my brother and I actually take care of the family business.” He told you and you lifted a brow.

“If you’re an agent now, how do you have the time for a traveling business?” You asked and he felt his palms get clammy, knowing that might be a difficult thing to answer.

“Um… well… Agents like me and Peart aren’t always in one place, so I still travel a lot anyway and when I’m off duty I handle the business as much as I can.” He tried to explain in the most believable way possible.

“You never did tell me what kind of business your dad started. I was always so curious.” You said and Dean wished he could tell you the truth.

“Actually… I need to ask you a few questions. I’m sort of on a case and I don’t really have a whole lot of time to catch up this time around.” He admitted softly.

Dean felt his heart sank at the way your shoulders seemed to slump a little before you looked down at your glass of brandy. He wished he could spend as much time with you as possible, but he couldn’t afford to lose anymore people. People have already lost their lives because of him and he couldn’t afford to do that to you too. He couldn’t handle it.

“What is it you want to know, Agent?”

The switch to the professionalism in your tone pierced Dean through the heart. Maybe he should have asked Sam to keep him some company after all, but from the looks of it he was busy interviewing someone else and writing notes down like the nerd he was.

“The owner… did you have many interactions with his wife?” He asked and he watched you shake your head.

“No. Too busy working. Plus she seldom came here anyway. She was more of a promiscuous woman than anything else. Nelson knew that better than anyone else.” You sighed.

“Nelson.. do you think he’d ever want to take revenge on his wife or pay someone to do it?” Dean asked, making this seem like routine questions - in a way they were still important for a hunter’s case. Who knows, maybe Nelson could he the werewolf he was looking for.

“And risk losing the bar because he’s in jail? No. He was hurt by his wife’s actions, yeah. But for a while they tried to work on it, but then they separated for a month. After that they started living together again before the affairs started up again. And from the looks of it he didn’t have the time to deal with his adulterous wife if she wasn’t willing to change. But there were rumors of a divorce.”

“Do you think Nelson had any enemies? Someone that wanted to get to him through the Mrs?” Dean asked.

“Look, Dean. I don’t keep tabs on my boss and his wife. I don’t care about that kind of thing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have customers to serve and you have a murder to solve. Don’t let me keep you.” You said and abruptly stood up and walked away to get back to work.

Dean rubbed his face before pinching the bridge of his nose, “Well that looks like it was a disaster.”

Dean heard the sound of his brother’s voice and he rolled his eyes a little before he got up.

“Let’s get out of here and compare notes…”

“You okay, Man?”

“I’m fine, Sam. Let’s just go.” Dean stated and he pushed his chair in before they walked out of the door after putting some cash on the table top for the drinks.

Once the two of them got into the car, Dean started the Impala and when he was pulling out he started to drive to the hotel, then Sam started to talk again.

“So why were you so in a rush to leave? What the hell happened back there?” Sam asked, causing Dean to grimace a little but he knew his brother wouldn’t let it go until he knew what was going on.

“You remember the girl we were talking about? The cover artist?” He said and Sam nodded.

“Wait, that was Y/N? Why don’t we go back? You two can catch up! It’s just a werewolf case, a milk run. I can handle this and give you time with her.” Sam said; and as much as Dean appreciated the willingness, he knew his chances were probably gone.

“Oh no… what did you do?” Sam asked when Dean went quiet.

“Why is it always something that I did?” Dean asked and Sam scoffed.

“Because, Dean. As smooth as you are with women you’ll never see again, you always screw up with the ones that matter and you let them go. Why are you trying to let this one go?”

“Because I can’t have what happened to Jo and Lisa happen to her. Even though Jo was a hunter, she still got killed! Lisa didn’t have experience with hunting, never wanted anything to do with it, and she just got in trouble just by knowing me.” Dean said sternly, beginning to speed because he wasn’t exactly focused on the road.

“Dean! Slow down! We aren’t on a roller coaster!”

Dean heard his brother’s panicky voice and he eased on the gas and tried to focus on what he was doing and eventually they made it to the hotel. Luckily there weren’t any cops on the road so he didn’t get pulled over or anything on the way. But he turned off the car and Sam cleared his throat a little.

“Sam, I don’t want advice on this one. It’s better to just let this one go.”

“Dean, come on. I know for a fact you still have that picture she drew for you. And you said it yourself, that was the best summer of your life! You deserve to experience that kind of happiness again. Especially since things seem to be so calm right now. No angelic wars, no apocalypses, things are quiet and you deserve a break.”

Dean was still quiet.

“And you still aren’t going to tell me what down at the bar, are you?”

With a grunt, Dean stepped out of the car and started making his way up the stairs to get to their designated room.

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[negans-lucille-tblr]

My Worthless Love || Part One

Summary: At first, Dean can’t believe his luck that he gets to date a porn star, but soon the cracks start to show, and Dean gets to see a totally different side to the industry that bursts his bubble and leaves him torn. 

Rating: 18+

Part Tags: flirting, teasing, mentions of one night stands, fluff, mentions of being uncomfortable with attention, mentions of smut, watching porn, hints of masturbation, mentions of step father/daughter roleplay Part WC: ± 2.7K

A/Ns: Hope you enjoy this flangsty mini commissioned by Tina :)

My Worthless Love Masterlist || Read Parts 2-5 when you sub to my site/Patreon!

Dean’s POV

“Holy fucking shit, dude,” Dean gasps out, as he straightens up from taking his shot at the pool table and doesn’t even notice that the white ball goes nowhere near the stripe he could’ve easily potted. 

“You okay there, boss?” But Dean ignores Justin for a moment, still too captivated by the girl he’s just laid eyes on, watching her seem to effortlessly glide from the doorway to the bar. “Seriously?” 

This snaps Dean’s attention back to his employee, frowning slightly at the look of amusement on Justin’s face. 

“What?” he pries, taking his eyes off of the blonde for a brief second to look for the girl again and make sure she hasn’t just completely disappeared into thin air; that would be just his luck. 

“I know you’re my boss, but keep dreaming, man,” Justin laughs, stepping up to the table to take advantage of Dean’s distraction. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean presses, frowning at him. “You think a girl like her wouldn’t be interested in me?” 

“I know a girl like her wouldn’t be interested in you,” Justin scoffs. “Anyway, isn’t she like, half your age?” 

“How old do you think I am, dude?” Dean asks, amused. 

“Old enough to be her dad by the looks of it,” Justin teases with a smug grin, potting another ball. Dean hasn’t been counting how many that is now. 

“Fuck you,” Dean grunts, mildly insulted but more so totally captivated by the pretty girl still standing at the bar, talking to the bar man who is clearly very shameless in his flirting. So Dean’s not the only man she’s having this affect on – that does complicate things a little. Competition is always a challenge. “I’m gonna wipe the floor with you, then go and buy her a drink and prove you wrong.” 

“Good luck with that,” Justin laughs, a smug grin lighting up his face, and as Dean’s eyes land back on the pool table, he realises Justin’s almost cleared the table himself. 

Dean rolls his shoulders back and tells himself to focus on the game – if nothing else to knock his cocky employee down a peg or two – and takes his turn, this time potting all the balls he intends to, until only the black remains, and he looks up to flash Justin a wink before potting it. Justin rolls his eyes in an over-exaggerated fashion, but doesn’t seem too put out that he’s lost. Justin always loses to Dean, but the kid is getting better the more Friday nights they spend playing. 

“You might’ve beaten me, but I can’t wait to see you fail at the next part,” Justin smirks from behind his beer bottle before finishing it. “Y’know, she looks kinda familiar, you are okay with my sloppy seconds, right, boss?” 

“If I wasn’t, there’d be no one in this state left to fuck,” Dean retorts, flashing Justin a sarcastic smile and patting his shoulder condescendingly, making Justin laugh loudly. 

“Hey, I learned from the best,” Justin tries to argue back. “Fixing a car isn’t the only thing you’ve taught me, y’know.” 

“Nah, I’m pretty sure you already had ‘manslut’ in your resume before I hired you,” Dean argues, before making his way over to the bar. 

He clears his throat and runs his fingers through his hair before he’s gotten too close, and manages to just about slide into the gap between her and the man standing with his back to her talking to a friend. He briefly glances over at her, noticing she’s just as gorgeous, if not more, up close, and clears his throat as he waits to be served. When he catches her looking his way, he gives her a sweet smile, but she doesn’t hold his gaze long enough for him to strike up a conversation, so he thinks on his approach another minute or two longer. 

His fingers begin to drum nervously on the bar top as he notices the barman approaching them, and he realises he’s running out of time. 

“What can I get you?” 

“Urm, two beers and… I’m feeling generous, so whatever this pretty lady beside me wants,” Dean forces a smile, mentally cursing himself for the terrible move. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” she insists, “but thank you.” 

Fuck. 

The barman nods, moving away to get the beers, and Dean clears his throat. “Sorry, didn’t wanna seem like a weirdo, just figured I’d be nice, buy a lonely lady a drink.” 

“No, it’s fine, it’s not weird,” she tells him softly. “I’m just still drinking this one,” she explains. 

“Alright,” Dean nods, admitting defeat. He fucked it from the moment he opened his mouth. He  let Justin get into his head. He doesn’t deserve to land someone like her now, anyway, even if it does mean he has to spend the rest of the evening listening to Justin tell him he told him so. 

“You mean that’s it?” she presses, frowning at him. 

Dean frowns back, now completely confused by what’s happening, barely thanking the barman when two bottles of beer are placed in front of him. 

“Not gonna persuade me?” 

“Do you… want me to persuade you?” Dean asks carefully, now completely lost. 

“No,” she replies simply. “Just most men would,” she shrugs. 

Dean finds his way through the confusion just enough to consider maybe he’s not completely blown it after all. 

“I’m not most men, sweetheart,” he laughs, softly. “Anyway, have a good night.” 

He smiles at her once again and grabs the beers, forcing himself not to look back at her reaction to his exit as he returns to the pool table and sees Justin has already set up the next game; clearly having no faith in Dean’s attempt to not be returning. 

“Knew you’d blow it,” Justin scoffs, taking his beer from Dean’s grasp. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Dean replies confidently, grabbing his pool cue. “I’ll break.” 

“Dude,” Justin whispers, glancing over Dean’s shoulder. 

Dean turns his head to see the girl from the bar approaching, outstretching her hand to offer him the beer in her grasp. 

“For me?” he asks, confused. 

She shrugs, playing with the straw in whatever girly drink is in her grasp and clears her throat. “Just to say thanks for not being a creep,” she tells him softly. 

“Oh, you’re welcome,” he nods, smiling nervously. “Urm, I’m Dean, by the way.” 

“Y/N,” she replies, biting her bottom lip softly before glancing over at Justin. “I’ll leave you to your night.” 

“No, it’s okay, Justin was actually just leaving, he’s gotta open up shop tomorrow,” Dean smiles, looking over at Justin pointedly. Justin frowns deeply and grumbles under his breath, reaching for his jacket. 

“He’s old enough to be your father, by the way,” he grumpily points out to Y/N as he passes her, shooting Dean a smug grin when she’s not looking, and Dean rolls his eyes. 

“I’m not,” he insists, hoping that hasn’t scared her off. 

“I’m used to older guys,” she shrugs. “So, I’ve seen you get a few good shots on this thing tonight, mind showing me a trick or two?” she asks, biting her bottom lip again. 

“Sure,” Dean nods, suddenly a little nervous but a whole lot excited he didn’t screw up that badly. 

Three Weeks Later

“I’m not joking, Dean, it was horrible,” she stresses, even though there’s still a laugh in her voice. 

“I don’t know, it sounds pretty funny to me,” Dean insists, laughing along. She glares at him playfully, and then looks back ahead of them as they continue to walk the length of the riverside. 

“Can you believe this is our third date, already?” Y/N asks, clearly trying to change the subject. 

“I think Justin is in more disbelief than I am,” Dean smirks. “The guy was adamant I couldn’t get your attention at the bar that night.” 

“A guy like Justin couldn’t get my attention,” she corrects, scoffing. 

“He’s convinced that you two have…” Dean trails off, realising that’s a really inappropriate thing to bring up. 

“Really?” she frowns. “No, I don’t know him,” she insists, shaking her head instantly. 

“I didn’t think so,” Dean rushes to remedy. “I mean, I would believe it from someone like him, but I didn’t… I don’t want you to think I would think of you… I… I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry. He just said he recognised you and, he can’t keep track of… it doesn’t matter,” Dean flusters. 

But he’s pretty sure he’s upset her, because the smile has completely gone from her face, and now she’s worrying her bottom lip with her teeth in the way Dean’s learned she does when she’s anxious. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again. “Forget I said that, please?” he begs. 

She clears her throat and nods her head, so Dean tries to relax again and focus on the great third date they were having, and all the hopes he’d had for this going finally somewhere remotely close to a bedroom. But now he’s pretty sure he’s blown that, at least. 

“Oh shit,” some guy drunkenly slurs as they begin to pass a bar. “I know you!” He points straight at Y/N who suddenly seems very uncomfortable with the entire situation. “Where do I know you from?” he asks, frowning in confusion. 

“That’s a really shitty way to hit on a woman on a date,” Dean calls over, laughing at the guy’s feeble attempt. 

“No, I know her,” he continues to insist. 

“You’re drunk, dude,” Dean points out the obvious, noticing Y/N getting more and more uncomfortable with the unwanted attention. He moves to stand the other side of her, between her and the drunk man, and puts his arm around her to offer her some comfort, before moving them on swiftly. “Are you okay?” he asks, as soon as they’re out of earshot. 

“Fine,” she insists, “I don’t know what that was.” 

“He’s drunk, he probably just wanted to hit on you,” Dean shrugs. 

“Yeah, probably,” she laughs awkwardly, nodding her head. “I just hate the attention,” she explains, hugging herself. 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, sweetheart, but you do get a lot of it from men. One even walked into a door earlier,” Dean chuckles softly at the memory. “I know you can’t help it, but us men go a little stupid over girls as attractive as you.” But Y/N seems uncomfortable with the praise, so Dean decides to drop it, and clears his throat. “Do you wanna go somewhere private? My place isn’t far from here,” he offers. 

“Urm,” she stops, not looking him in the eye as she instead looks out over the river. “I know it’s our third date and there’s certain… expectations that come with that, but I think I wanna just go home, I’m sorry,” she tells him awkwardly. 

“No, yeah of course,” Dean reassures her. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean that,” he insists. While it had been on his mind most of the evening, after what had just happened, he was genuinely offering her refuge and a drink, but he understands how she might have taken it, and now he feels like an even bigger idiot than he did when he brought up Justin. “Listen, I had a great night, regardless how it ends, I just want you to know that,” he tells her. 

“Me too, Dean,” she smiles. “Sorry, I think I’m just tired.” 

“It’s fine,” Dean insists, shaking his head because an apology isn’t necessary. “Let me get you a cab.” 

He steps out towards the road and lifts his hand to flag down a cab, and as one pulls up to them, he smiles down at her. 

“Thanks, Dean, I’d like to do this again if you’re still interested,” she tells him timidly. 

“Yeah, I’d love to. I’ll text you,” he nods with a small smile. 

He’s surprised to see her rock up onto her toes and press her lips to his, and he kisses back for a brief second before she pulls away and gets into the cab beside them. He waves her off once she’s safely inside, and exhales heavily as he watches the cab drive away. Well he didn’t completely fuck it up, which is something he supposes, but he can’t help but think how weird it is that she gets so uncomfortable by male attention, and how reserved she seems to be regarding anything physical. 

As Dean begins his walk home he wonders if maybe she’s had a bad experience in the past, or maybe she has no experience at all. She is only twenty one, so it’s not a far cry that she could still be a virgin, and it would make sense why she seems closed off about things. But Dean also can’t help but feel like there’s something she’s not told him yet, like there’s a part of her he’s yet to see, and he wonders if that has anything to do with it. 

Dean sighs as he grabs a fresh beer from his fridge and begrudgingly heads towards his bedroom alone, thinking about his high hopes earlier that evening when he was leaving his bedroom, freshly showered and dressed for his date with Y/N, excited by the prospect of her coming back to his place with him. He’d even changed the bedsheets, and sprayed a lot of air freshener around the place. He’d tidied up and made sure there were condoms in his nightstand, and he’d even been out and bought the wine she had ordered the last two times they’d been on dates before. Dean had even gone as far as to not deal with the issue that arose in the shower when thinking about Y/N and what their evening might entail. He didn’t want to waste it on the shower floor, after all. 

So now, understandably, he’s a little pent up. 

He grabs his laptop as he heads into his bedroom and slumps down onto his bed, taking a swig of beer as he opens up the computer and spurs it to life. Like muscle memory he loads the internet and types in the first few letters of his favourite site, his laptop already filling in the blanks and all he has to do is press enter to be taken there. 

Placing his beer down on the nightstand, Dean clears his throat and ensures he’s a little more comfortable in his place as he scrolls the homepage looking at the featured video thumbnails until something sticks out to him. And something finally does. Not his usual type, judging by the title of the video, but there’s something about the glimpse of the girl in the thumbnail that’s appealing to him tonight. 

Summer Swallows coerced by Step-Daddy when mother leaves town

Dean’s never really been one to choose this kind of thing, but maybe he’s getting too bored of his regular entertainment, anyway. Maybe it’s about time he spiced things up a little. He clears his throat and readjusts himself once more, clicking play and watching the titles play out. Already bored, he cuts to five or so minutes in, glad it’s the trimmed version and not the full forty minute version the site is advertising if you pay for it. It cuts to an upshot of the man’s face, twisted, his lip caught between his teeth as he groans and stares down his body, and then the camera cuts to the girl playing his step-daughter, on her knees and pleasing him with her mouth, and Dean sits up straight, his eyes widening as he blindly fumbles for his cell on the nightstand and pauses the video right there on her face. 

“Sammy?” he chokes out. “You won’t believe what I’ve just found.”  

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#my worthless love #dean x reader #mini series #dean winchester #smut #angst #fluff #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #negans-lucille-tblr

[cheynovak]

A new addiction

Jensen Ackles x F/reader (Y/N)

Warning: 18+, nothing too graphic but still, age difference, Open relationship

Let's make it very clear I don't want to denigrate, break up or talk bad about Danneel, their relationship or family. I love them and wish both all the happiness. 

This story is pure fiction. Have fun!

-> A new addiction masterlist <-

‐---------

Story: 

Jensen and Danneel are going through a difficult time in their relationship. After being together for so long and married for 14 years the excitement and sexual tension is gone. 

After going to marriage counseling Danneel had the idea of trying a semi-open relationship, each choosing 3 persons they are allowed to experiment with. 

And guess who is on Jensen's list…

– 

“Did you have time to think about it?” Danneel asked her husband on the phone. Jensen sat at the bar in the hotel he was staying. Phone to his ear. He had to film for a new season of the boys, right after he and Danneel had a tough counseling session.

“Honestly, I don't know if I like the idea of you and other man.” He sighs. “It's not just me and other man. It's about trusting each other, Jay. And you know, staying satisfied when we're apart for a long time.” Jensen didn't answer. He noticed his new costar Y/N walking in. She nodded friendly but let him be since he was on the phone. 

“Just, just let me think about it some more.” He said “But honey I got to go. Talk soon?” - “Yeah, sure. Love you.” -"Love you.” He ended the call still looking at Y/N sitting all by herself enjoying her drink while reading a book.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked. Her eyes moves from the book to his green eyes. “No, no of course not. please sit.” She was always so friendly to him. “Was that Danneel?” she asked with a sweet voice. “Eh yes.” He sighs, not looking all too happy. “Everything ok?” She looked worried while placing her hand on his arm. 

“Yeah, we're just… having a hard time, being apart and all.” He found himself confessing. “Want to talk about it?” -”Not really.” Jensen took a sip of his drink. “So how do you like it, your first big project, right?” He asked to change the topic. 

“It's different than I thought. But I'm glad you all accept me.” He saw how her face lit up. Y/N was new to the scene. She started acting at a later age than most of the people Jensen knew. This was her first big project.

“But I have to be honest, I'm quite nervous for our scene tomorrow.” Jensen noticed her cheeks getting a shade of pink. “You mean the spicy scene?” She nodded, not looking at him. “Don't be, I mean, it's always awkward shooting a scene like that, don't get me wrong. But I'm sure you'll wing it like you did every scene so far.” 

“I'm glad it's with you.” That confession stunned Jensen. “What do you mean?” -”I like everyone but for some reason you seem to have the most patience. You taught me so much already.” A smile formed on his face. “Well, you are an easy learner kid.”

Y/N lifted her glass “Here is to easy co-workers and awkward scenes.” - “Cheers” 

That night Jensen got to know Y/N even better. “Aren't you afraid for the comments?” Jensen asked. Y/n lifted a brow. “Being my on screen love interest with 18 years age difference.” 

“What's 18 years? We're both adults. It's not like there is an actual 40 year gap. Besides, you don't look all too bad.”  Jensen noticed how the alcohol made her talk more freely. “Oh really? You're just enjoying the view then.” He joked. 

“Don't flatter yourself, Ackles.” She blushed. 

Y/N got up. “It's time for me to hit the sack. Big day tomorrow.” She winked while tapping his shoulder. “See you tomorrow.” He said staying just a little longer. 

When Jensen got to his hotel room he started to think about what Danneel suggested. Each choosing 3 people who they were allowed to have sex with. 3 people… Jensen didn't even think he could find 3 women he wanted to have sex with. Most women he knew were either married or in a relationship with a close friend. Or not his type.

Maybe… Y/N? She is friendly, has nice curves, a beautiful smile, and mesmerizing eyes… his mind started to dwell, imagining how her skin would feel under his touch. How her lips would taste when he kissed her. He could picture her face while hovering over her. The shape her mouth would form when he thrusted in her. Her pleading eyes, her moans…

For fuck sake, Jensen he thought breaking the daydream, feeling embarrassed even thinking about her like that. 

–

The next day Jensen got to the set seeing Y/N in a robe ready for their scene. It was a love scene between Soldier boy and her character. He could see how nervous she was. Fiddling on her robe, trying to play it cool. When she saw Jensen a soft smile appeared. 

PLACES! 

“Jensen, Y/N we need to film this from different angles. So we're going to start of slow so you two can get into the vibe.” The director yelled. “But not too much.” Jensen joked whispering in her ear, earning a small gniffel from her, while trying to pay attention. 

The second she undid her robe it revealed the spicy black laced lingerie. It fitted every curve of her body, snatched in all the right places. Jensen felt his veins burning. She looked even better than he imagined last night. 

DON'T think about that Jay… Be cool. 

After a few scenes the awkwardness disappeared and both actors were capable of a laugh in between takes. Time flies by, the last scene approaching. “Alright guys, We agreed with Y/N no frontal nudes. Make sure we don't see Jensen's briefs. Take your places.” Y/N had to straddle Jensen's lap, their hips barely covered with the white blanket.  

The second Y/N removed her bra the world around him disappeared. All he could see was her on top of him. Feeling her hands on his chest, her eyes locked with his,  her lips slightly separated. Jensen's hands moved on autopilot over her skin. fingertips caressing her thighs, kneading her hips. Unconsciously pulling her closer. 

Lips attached, heavy breaths filled the scene. “I need more noise.” They heard the director behind the camera yell. Please don't do this to me. But Y/N listened and started to moan harder and louder than before. Leaving Jensen mesmerized by the sound. 

Y/N felt how Jensen moved her hips over his. She could feel the bulge in his pants growing. The feeling took her by surprise, making her take in a sharp breath, widening her eyes. Her reaction pulled Jensen back to reality. Realizing what was happening down there. Making him quickly sit up. Placing his hands on her back. His lips to her ear out of sight of the camera. “Sorry” He whispered.  Trying not to come off as a creep. 

Y/N pulled his face back, looking in his eyes trying to find a way to say it was ok. Deciding on kissing him hard before moving over to his neck. Neither stopped the grinding until they heard they had enough on tape to work with. Y/N looked at Jensen knowing they wanted to film the next scene at once. 

He placed his back against the bed again. Hearing how they will reset the camera before moving on. Y/N had to lay next to him. Meaning the now fully grown erection will be shown underneath the blanket. Y/N crawled off Jensen. But kept her knee up and over his leg. Lifting the blanket just enough. 

By the end of those scenes Jensen was able to cool down. Noticing how quick Y/N got dressed leaving the scene. Great, she must think I'm an old creep. “Jensen,  great work you two! Pulling her in like that, holding her close… amazing perfect!” - “ Yeah, eh thanks man.” He said still looking at the door Y/N just left. 

Later that night he thought of what had happened. It wasn't like him to let himself go like that. But he couldn't keep her out of his mind. So he decided to distract himself by calling Danneel. After some small talk he brought up her proposition.  

“If we do this… Do we tell each other who we choose?” he asked her “What do you think?” - “I don't think I want to know who or when.” He answered honestly. - “Then we don't.” -” Did you find someone?” he asked with a little doubt. “I know a man or two who wouldn't say no.” of course you're fucking hot. “You?” She asked. “Eh, No, but I thought about it. And I might think of one.” 

“Just one?” -” Yeah. I'm not going to fuck around.” 

“Neither am I. But we said a maximum 3 different people we can ask right? ” -”I think I just start with one. See how I feel. If one of us doesn't like it… we stop, right?”  -”ok” and with that he agreed to the open relationship test. 

–

It took all the strength he had to face Y/N the next morning. He knocked on her trailer. Seeing the surprise on her face when she answered. “Hi, do you have a minute?” He asked taking off his sunglasses. “Come in.” Y/N moved aside, Jensen looked around the trailer while she took a seat. “About yesterday… I am so, so sorry Y/N. That never happened to me before.” 

A soft smile appeared on her face.  “It's ok.” -” Clearly it isn't. You practically ran off set.” She nodded. “It was intense. But me leaving had nothing to do with you.” -”Are you sure?” He looked like a beaten dog, still apologizing even though she said it was ok. “I'll take it as an compliment, that my acting skills look real” 

This made Jensen laugh. 

“To be honest… it wasn't just you who felt something.” She said looking at her hands. “ I ran to clean myself up. I was so embarrassed.” She spoke barely loud enough to hear. Jensen's hands moved to her face making her look up at him. Wanting to tell her how much he wants her. Only to say “Our secret?” They hugged before Jay walked out the door. “Oh and thank you for covering me… literally.” 

– 

Weeks after that scene things practically changed back to how they were before. Friendly and fun, never mentioning what happened that day. 

Tonight was the last night in the hotel before going back home in the morning. 

Jensen was torn between telling Y/N and leaving it be. Going home to his wife, knowing she might held her end of their deal and slept with someone else. 

After a few drinks from the minibar, not too drunk but with enough courage, he knocked on Y/N's door. She opened with a confused look on her face. “Jay… Everything ok? It's late.” -”Can I…” Y/N moved her body so he could walk in. 

Y/N couldn’t shake the worried look on her face. Sitting down next to him on the foot end of the bed.“Do you remember I said Danneel and I had a difficult time?” He started their conversation. Jensen took his time to explain what they agreed on. Leaving Y/N nodding and listening. 

“So you're in a semi open relationship?” She said to recap his story. 

“And you can both choose 3 people to sleep with.” He hummed. “So who did you choose?” She asked looking at him, noticing an unspoken question, hope in his eyes. “Oh… you mean you're here to ask…” unable to finish that sentence.  “To, ask you.” He added. “Why me?” 

That question took him by surprise. “Eh, I thought long about who I should ask, and no one came to my mind except you. And well, when we did that scene.” He whistled “Even my body agreed.” 

Y/N didn't answer, which made Jensen nervous

Here you are, asking her to sleep with a guy 18 years older… you pervert

“I'm honored you think of me. But I don't know if I can do that Jay.” -”Why not?” She smiled “I really, really like you. And I'm scared that if we get physical one too many times, I might grow to love you.” 

She bit her lip. Wishing Jensen he could be the one nibbling at her. “And by the explanation you give me, you are looking for pure physical touch. I'm just not into open relationships and becoming someone's mistress…” 

Jensen understood and was glad she was honest. Y/N walked him to the door. “Jay?” She held his arm back, making him turn back to her, locking eye. Y/N's eyes roamed his perfect freckles, his hopeful eyes, The plump and kissable lips. 

“Fuck this.” she breathed out before her lips smashed against his. Pulling him back inside when he pushed to door closed with his foot. Giving in to her lust for him after weeks fantasising about him.

Both quickly stripping from their clothes leaving them standing naked in the middle of the dimly lit room, soft light coming from outside cast flickering shadows across the walls as Y/N and Jensen stood facing each other, their gazes locked in an intense embrace. The air was filled with anticipation, charged with the electricity of their unspoken desires. 

Jensen reached out, gently tracing the curve of her side over to her behind with his fingertips, sending shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch, the scent of his cologne enveloping her like a comforting embrace.

With a tender whisper, “So beautiful.” Jensen brushed his lips against hers, igniting a firestorm of passion between them. Their kiss was slow and deep, each moment filled with an unspoken promise of longing.

As their lips parted, Y/N's heart raced with anticipation, her eyes searching Jensen’s for affirmation. In that silent exchange, they found solace and understanding. Jensen laid her down on the bed surrounded by a sea of pillows. 

With a playful grin, Jensen reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Y/N's ear, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her veins. She leaned into his touch, her eyes sparkling.

Lost in the depths of each other's eyes, they surrendered to their longing and lust letting go of the world outside as they melted into each other's arms. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming sensation of their bodies connecting, tangled like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night.

Their moans were a symphony, each touch and caress a note in the melody of their passion. And as they fell deeper into the embrace of the night, they knew that they were deeper in over their head than they wanted. 

Needing nothing more than the pleading sounds of the other. Hearing how their touch brings pleasure to the other. 

Jensen's thrusts were long, deep, caring and loving. Nothing like Y/N had experienced before. Usually she needed hard and rough to feel pleased.  But Jensen made her experience a whole new way of intimacy. 

The heat of her orgasm floated over her like nothing had ever done. Feeling how her body tingling with warmth, needing to feel him closer. 

Not long after she felt how Jensen's body reacted to hers. She placed her hand on his cheek. Locking eyes while both coming down from their height. 

As Jensen  pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, Y/N rested her hand against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat while he hovered over her. 

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, lost in each other's eyes, savoring the sweetness of the moment.

And as the world outside once again faded away, all that remained was the undeniable bond that neither of them predicted. 

That was the moment Jensen knew, he wanted nothing more than to recreate this night with her over and over again.

Addicted to her touch. 

---‐--

My first story about Jensen. I feel kind of weird writing about a real person. Let alone a married man. Anyone else feel the same? 

Please feel free to like, share or comment. Make sure you check out my masterlist.

#fanfic #fluff #smut #the boys #x reader #jensen ackles #soldier boy #the boys amazon #dean winchester #spn #18+ content #18+ only #18+ blog #jensen fucking ackles #jensenedit #the boys series #spicy content

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 2)

Summary: Dean steals his father's car to give Y/N a ride home. The next day Y/N tags along to the dunes for sand surfing. 

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Word Count: 3,771 

Warnings: underage, age gap (reader is 16, Dean is 20 but closer to 21), mentions of physical abuse by a parent, past injury (bruising/scars), mentions of death and alcoholism, John is an asshole in this one, underage drinking, angst, language, slow burn, mutual pining, a hint of jealousy, a bit of fluff 

A/N: Sand surfing looks really fun. Didn’t think I’d get this finished before the new year. Happy holidays! 

_____ 

Dean grabbed your hand every time the headlights of a car came into view and pulled you off more to the side of the road. Placing himself between you so the car would have to go through him to hit you. The last time he did it you held onto his hand and he didn't let go. Until you came up to a driveway that led to a small ranch style house sitting amongst the evergreens. 

You spotted a cherry-condition, black muscle car sitting in the driveway, "No way! Is this your car?" 

"Uh- yeah," he smiled, "-I mean, no. It's my dad's but yeah that's what we're taking." He stumbled out his words as if he was nervous. 

You trailed your finger up the hood of the car, "Sixty-seven?" 

"You know your cars." He smirked. 

"My dad used to drag me to every car show he could when I was younger. On those days he did get off work." You said, admiring the freshly waxed black paint. "And as a result, I developed a thing for pre-seventies muscle." 

"Baby's the only thing my father has ever loved." Dean said and you frowned, "Aside from my mother. She passed away when Sammy was born."

"Baby?"

"It's what he calls the car." 

You nodded. "Who's Sammy?" 

"My little brother," he explained with an edge of protectiveness, "He's sixteen, too." He bit the split in his lip until it bled and kicked the front tire with a glare. "He's probably passed out by now," and somehow you knew he was talking about his father again, "But you better wait out here." He said, pushing you off to the side of the house so you blended with the shadows of the trees lining it. "Y/N, if you hear anything... Do not come inside." 

Then he turned around and headed for the door, leaving you with a sinking feeling in your gut. The way he spoke about his father, loving four wheels and engine more than his sons. Dean looked pained at the thought and his eyes greener when they glided over his father's Impala. 

Then it hit you, his warning. His father wasn't a good man. 

You left the shadowed tree line and peered through one of Baby’s windows. Fast food bags littered the front bench seat and a half a bottle of liquor lay on the floor. Your skin started to crawl at the thought of Dean's father coming home half-pissed and taking his day out on his sons. No doubt Dean only stuck around for his little brother. You wondered if Sam had endured the same type of injuries or if Dean always stood between them. Somehow you already knew the answer. 

The screen door shut with an audible creak and Dean reappeared on the porch, "Y/N?" He whisper shouted as he scanned the area you were supposed to wait. "Y/N." 

"Over here," you matched his tone. 

"Got 'em." He jingled the keys for you to see. "Let's push her out onto the street before we start her though." He opened the driver's door, "Here, you steer, I'll push." 

"You're not gonna get in trouble, are you?" You hesitated, you didn't think you could bear to see more bruises on him, or worse. 

He gave you a cocky smile, "I'm not gonna get caught." 

You slid in behind the wheel and shifted into neutral, taking a moment to appreciate Baby's beauty despite the mess of trash in the front seat. Meanwhile Dean ran around to the bumper and started pushing the car down the driveway. You braked when you got to the edge of the street, throwing open the door and letting Dean take over as you slid over to the passenger side. 

The car grinded to a stop as he pulled up in front of your house. It was a beautiful car but the whole ride felt like a tin can rolling over bumps in the road and the muffler rattled against the undercarriage the entire time. His father didn’t seem like the type to put his time or money into anything that couldn’t give back to him. Which apparently included keeping up maintenance on Baby. 

"For someone who's supposed to love this car," you flicked a used ketchup packet onto the floor and wiped your sticky fingers on your jeans, "He's shit at taking care of it." 

"Imagine if he didn't love her." Dean's eyes were lost on the dashboard, deep in some solitary thought. "He didn't deserve her and he doesn't deserve this car." For a moment you thought he must've been talking about his mother. You wondered if the abuse started before or after her passing. You didn't ask. "Are you busy tomorrow?" 

"Um."

"It's fine if you didn't mean it. About being my friend. But I was gonna go sand surfing and I thought that might be something you'd like to do. Something friends do." He shrugged. "I-I'm not trying to be creepy. Just friends." 

"I don't think you're creepy," you shook your head and met his sad smile, "I'd love to go, sand surfing? What is that?" 

He laughed, "It's like snowboarding but down a sand dune. It's easy, I'll teach you. Fall's the best time for it because the sand won't burn you." 

"That sounds fun." 

"Good, I'll pick you up," he said and then added, "My friend's driving. There'll be others there too, but they're not like your brother's friends." 

"I don't like my brother's friends." 

"These are good people," he smiled, the bruised part of his face hidden in the shadows of the car and you almost forgot about it. He had a nice smile, he didn't show too many teeth or too much gums. "I'll give you my number, in case you decide to cancel." 

You laughed silently but let him enter his phone number into your cell. Then you texted him so he'd have yours, too. 

"Thanks for the ride, Dean." You reached over and gave him a quick side hug. He didn't even have a chance to react but stared at the dash again and nodded when you pulled away. "Text me when you get home or I'll worry." 

"You don't have to worry about me, Y/N, I'm not a child." He said cordially. 

He'd obviously picked up on you putting the pieces of his home life together, his injuries, his father, how much he was risking by stealing Baby tonight. Dean was tall and built enough to protect himself, but nobody should stand alone and clearly his father was still bigger and stronger. 

"People worry about you in every stage of life, Dean. At least they should. I will." He looked over at you and matched your frown. 

"But you only just met me." 

His words echoed in your ears well after you showered and crawled into bed. Dean brought about so many feelings in you that you didn't know which to follow. You felt butterflies, and mutual affection like you'd known each other longer than you did, and an untethered desire to protect him, which was absurd because although he was skinny, he could toss you over his shoulder and spin you around if he wanted to. His bruises and scars made you feel helpless, but his smile made you happy because you could tell he felt lighter, too. 

You checked your phone and found a message from him. 

Dean: Mission impossible accomplished. See you tomorrow. 

Y/N: Thanks for texting. Goodnight, Dean. 

Dean: Night, Y/N. 

You'd be lying if you said you weren't developing a crush. You sighed and rolled over in bed. What could you do, nothing. He'd get into a lot more trouble than you. 

Sleep did not come easy after that and you woke up before you thought you'd even fallen asleep. You groaned and rolled over in bed when you heard your phone buzz. 

Dean: Good morning, Y/N. 

Y/N: Geez, you wake up early. What time is it? 

Dean: You're literally looking at your phone. 

Y/N: Omg! It's 6am, what is wrong with you?! 

Dean: You know the saying, early bird... 

Y/N: The sun isn't even awake yet, Dean. 

Dean: You're grumpy in the morning. 

Dean: Just wanted to let you know we'll pick you up around noon. 

Dean: Y/N? You still wanna come, right? 

Y/N: Yeah! Sorry, I'm tired. 

Dean: Awesome. Just one question before you pass out on me. Benny's bringing a grill, so we're making hotdogs for lunch. You're not a vegetarian are you? 

Y/N: Yeah...

Y/N: I'm joking. No, I'm not. 

Dean: Good, our friendship might've ended right there. 

Dean: Just kidding. Go back to sleep. 

You smiled at your phone a little too long before you locked it and went back to sleep for a few hours. 

"Hey, sweetie. You're awake early." Your mother said when you walked into the kitchen around ten. It was early compared to your typical Sunday morning. "Have fun last night?" 

You nodded, not wanting to get into the events of your brother or his friends from the bonfire. Your mom seemed to accept the answer and you assumed your brother made it home at some point without her noticing the hour. 

You got along with your parents well enough. You never really got into any trouble and you weren’t sure they even knew how to ground you if you did. Besides, your dad wasn’t around much lately, it seemed his new promotion kept him at the office longer than necessary. Which was where he was now. On a Sunday, at ten A.M. 

You didn't know what you wanted to do when you grew up, but you knew you wanted to have balance in your life. Something you thought your dad didn't understand. You couldn't remember the last time he brought you to a car show, you couldn't remember the last time you'd asked him to bring you either. 

"Your dad said he'd be home for dinner and your brother probably won't be up until mid-afternoon. What time did you two get in last night?" She asked, sipping on her coffee. 

You didn't have a curfew because you never had the need for one and your parents oddly trusted you. You didn't do crazy shit to make them worry about you but sometimes you wanted to, if only just for the attention. So you knew she was just curious when she asked. 

"I dunno," you shrugged, not wanting to get into why you didn't know and that you didn't come home with your brother. "I'm going out with some friends for lunch." 

"That sounds fun," you weren't sure if she was even listening anymore or just saying that. 

Your family had gotten better at not actually listening to each other lately. But you ignored that fact yourself and grabbed a bowl of cereal for breakfast. 

At eleven-thirty, you threw on a pair of high-rise jeans and an oversized t-shirt that you knotted at the waist. You also pulled on a flannel shirt in case it got chilly which was the way the weather was turning lately. Then you texted Dean. 

Y/N: Text when you get here, I'll come out and meet you. 

You wanted to avoid an awkward interaction with your mother. Especially since your brother was awake now and slamming the kitchen cupboards. He wouldn't really care but he was nosey and would start something if he saw how much older Dean was. And you doubted a few hours would've helped much with the bruising on his face. That wouldn't be fair to make Dean explain how he'd got them to complete strangers. Especially since you were pretty sure you knew how he'd gotten them. 

Dean: We're here. 

You shouted a 'Bye' as you ran out of the house, hearing your brother ask your mom where you were headed before the door slammed shut behind you. You shoved your phone into your back pocket and ran down the driveway to where a red Jeep waited. Dean stood outside, leaning against the door. 

He smiled when he saw you run up, "Hey." 

"Hi." You said, noticing his face falling, "What's wrong?" 

"I feel like we're sneaking around," he glanced back at your house as if he expected someone to come running out after you. "Feels wrong." 

"I just didn't want you to have to deal with the inevitable questions about, you know," you pointed to the left side of his face. "But if you want I can introduce you before we go... Or you could come over Friday for family dinner and give that a little more time to heal." 

He stared at you for half a second then shoved his hands in his pockets, "Family dinner sounds nice." 

"Great, I'll set it up tonight!" You smiled brightly and touched his arm, "Feel better?" 

He swallowed and nodded and you heard someone shout impatiently from inside the Jeep. Dean opened the backdoor for you and climbed in after you. You sat in the middle next to a guy with black hair and blue eyes who looked about the same age as Dean. 

"Hey, I'm Cas." The guy greeted you as you settled in. 

As soon as the door was closed the Jeep pulled out onto the road with a bounce from a pothole the tire hit. 

A small brunette in the middle front seat turned around and waved, "I'm Ruby, Sam's girlfriend," she pointed to a lanky guy with long brown hair next to her who offered you a smile. 

They looked about the same age as you, at least you knew Sam was. You noticed right away Sam didn't have any bruises or obvious scars. You felt a bit proud of Dean for that and also a little sorry that he didn't have someone like himself to have his back. 

"That's Benny," Dean said, pointing to the guy driving. "Benny say ‘Hi’."

"Hi." He glanced in the rearview mirror. 

"He's quiet until you get to know him." Dean explained. 

Benny, by far, looked the oldest of the bunch. Maybe it was because he hadn't shaved in a couple of days or maybe it was because he was built like a linebacker. But either way he didn't seem to like you. It was just a vibe you got in the split second your eyes connected. It practically radiated off him and you wondered if you were the only one picking up on it. 

"So, Y/N, how come I never see you at school?" Ruby asked, spinning around in her seat to face you completely and bumping into Benny who growled. Maybe it wasn't just you. "You're not home schooled are you?" 

"No, I go to one near my dad's work." You explained quickly, not really wanting to talk about school. 

"Where does your dad work?" Sam asked this time. 

“At Sandover Bridge and Iron. He’s the Director of Sales and Marketing.” You bounced your eyebrows. Really all that means is he’s barely around anymore. 

"That's cool," he said, shifting his eyes to Dean for a second. 

"Oh," Ruby’s brown eyes widened for a second and you knew what she was thinking. 

"Yeah."

"Am I missing something?" Dean asked, glancing between the two of you. 

"It’s a private school." You explained and it seemed to dawn on him. "What are you smirking at?" 

"You have to wear a uniform, don't you?" He smiled so wide the split in his lip threatened to pull again. 

"If you must know, yes, and it is the bane of my existence." You rolled your eyes dramatically to make your point. 

"So, like a plaid skirt with those long socks?" 

"Careful, Dean. We're friends, remember?" You whispered to him and he opened his mouth to respond, but then snapped it shut and turned to stare out the window. 

Ruby pouted, resting her chin on the back of the seat, "That's too bad. You could've sat with us at lunch and I would've shown you around. Dean says you're new." 

"Yeah," you sighed. That would've been nice to know someone in school. You had begged your parents to let you go to a public school this time, but they insisted. "Too bad." 

Dean had gotten really quiet and you nudged him with your elbow. He turned to smile and swallow thickly before turning a cold-shoulder and staring out the window again. You had only been teasing, but you didn't want him getting any ideas that would only result in him getting in trouble. 

"How do you guys know Dean?" You asked, directing the question at Cas since Benny didn't seem to be much of a talker. 

"We grew up together. Well, me and Dean did." Cas explained, "Benny just kind of showed up one day and we couldn't get rid of him." Benny growled and Cas winked in the rearview mirror. "He really is a teddy bear once you get to know him." 

Once you got to the beach Benny didn't park in the parking lot, instead he drove out onto the beach and down the shore for a long time until you were surrounded by only dunes of sand. It would've taken forever to walk there. He parked at the top of the dunes and everyone filtered out of the Jeep. The guys grabbed the boards from the trunk and Benny got to setting up his grill. You guessed he wasn't really into sand surfing. 

Dean said he was going to teach how to surf, but he was already halfway down the dune with Cas when you looked. And Sam and Ruby were flirting as they carried their boards over to join them and you didn't feel like third wheeling it today, so you hung back with Benny. 

"Need a hand?" Your voice was softer than you'd like it to be but you found him intimidating, even if he wasn't nearly as tall as Dean or Sam who was a moose at sixteen and probably still growing.

"Thought you came for that," he pointed at the dune where the others had run off to and you saw a couple extra boards stuck in the sand at the top. But you still didn't know how to surf, never even been snowboarding. And those surfboards looked a lot more like snowboards. You'd hurt yourself for sure without knowing how to turn or stop. "I hope you know what you're doing with him." 

Your eyes snapped back to Benny's and you squinted, "Excuse me." 

He raised his hands and his eyebrows, "His home life is... undesirable. I know you know what I mean. Last thing he needs is your parents on top of his own." 

You didn't think your parents would bat an eye at Dean. Mainly because they were wrapped up in their own lives and didn’t pay you much attention. But if they did notice, you wondered if they would dislike Dean enough to turn what you have with him into something wrong and indecent. You'd like to think they wouldn't because it wasn't. But it's a parent's job to be protective of their child.

"We're just friends." 

"Not the way he looks at you." Benny cocked his head and started setting up the foldable stand for the grill. "He's not thinking when he's around you. And don't get me wrong, I like seeing him happy, he's been there for me more times than I can count, but- Do you have any idea what his father would've done if he knew Dean took that car out last night. If that's the way he looks after spilling paint in the garage..." You didn't know what to say and opened your mouth like a fish out of water before he continued. "Dean's never done anything like that before. I'm just asking you to be careful with him. He has two years left and then he and Sam can get the hell out of there." 

"Why two years?" That's all you could manage to ask. 

"Dean's tried to get custody of Sam since he turned eighteen but the lawyers always tell him the same thing. He's too young himself, with no steady income and no decent living quarters. Going through courts takes time and money and Sam would likely age out before that time." He explained as you fiddled with the knot in your t-shirt. 

"How'd you know about the car?" 

"I live next door, I helped him push it back up the driveway so his father wouldn't wake up and hear the engine." 

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I mean, I kind of knew but I guess I believed him when he said it would be fine." You watched your shoes and tried to still your bottom lip. "Just so you know, I'm not trying to cause him any more pain. We just kind of connected last night and I like him. I'm not gonna do anything that'll get him in trouble though. I promise." 

"Kid, I'm not worried about you doing the dumb shit. I'm worried about him." He scratched his slight beard. "It's not fair to ask you to think for the both of you." 

"It's not fair to ask me to not be his friend either." 

"I couldn't ask that of you." 

You kind of missed quiet Benny and the afternoon was starting to feel a lot like last night with your brother's friends. You wiped a tear threatening to fall down your cheek when you were sure Benny wasn't looking; everyone else taking a second run down the dune after climbing back up. You stood around and kicked at the sand until you could feel grains in your shoe. 

"Hey, cher, can you grab me the hotdogs from the cooler?" Benny asked and nodded towards the cooler next to the Jeep. 

You didn't bother digging around and just brought him the whole cooler. He split open the pack of hotdogs and started grilling. Then pulled a can of beer from the cooler and opened it. He handed it to you and grabbed his own. You wondered if you actually had to drink it, but he clearly saw that you were upset and it was a peace offering of sorts. So you took a sip. 

The fifth sip wasn't so bad and the seventh went down even easier. But it still tasted gross and you still didn't see the point. Maybe just a little warmth in your cheeks. 

Sam and Ruby were the first to run back over when Benny rang the dinner bell. Followed by Cas and Dean. Dean eyed the beer can in your hand and you took another sip before you grabbed a hotdog and walked away.

_________________________

Part 3

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

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