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pink-sparkly-witch · 6 months

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Everything

Summary: Dumped by her boyfriend, Y/N goes home with her tail between her legs, praying that her roommate, Dean Winchester, isn’t there to witness yet another failed relationship. But fate doesn’t work that way, and what seems like the universe conspiring against her might actually be what she’s needed all along.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, break-up, language, douchebag ex, Dean’s a bit of a dick at first, insecurities, heart to heart, frenemies to lovers

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: I’m so sorry. This summary is awful. I hope you enjoy whatever this is 😅 Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

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The rain pours down, and thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance. You laugh bitterly at how the weather reflects your mood. Rain soaks your hair and clothing, your feet sodden and squelching; the stilettos you’re wearing offer zero protection from the torrents of water falling from the sky and running down the sidewalks.

You’re grateful for it, truth be told. At least this way, no one knows the mascara that runs in black streams down your cheeks is from the tears you’ve been crying over that asshole. The asshole you’ve been dating for two months who just dumped you at your local bar while sitting next to his date for the night.

Fuck, how did this become your life? How did you become this gullible, desperate woman who keeps falling for these kinds of men? Men who date you and sweet talk you, saying all the right things until they get what they want from between your legs and then leave you for someone prettier. Someone younger.

Maybe the asshole’s right. Maybe you are the type of girl to have a fun time with, not the kind to take home to meet someone’s mother. But fuck, that hurts to admit and fuck, you lose more of yourself with every asshole that spews those kind of lines to you. If you’ve said it once, you’ve said it a million times. You’re done with men. And this time, you mean it.

You turn the corner onto your street and stop in your tracks. Dread settles in your stomach as you see your roommate’s car parked on the side of the road. He just had to choose tonight of all nights to stay home, didn’t he? That’s all you fucking need right now. You consider turning around and walking away. Hell, he wouldn’t miss you. You were meant to be staying at the asshole’s place anyway.

But, this is your home. Well, the place you live, at least, and you need to go there eventually. Might as well get it over with. Your lip trembles, knowing you need to face the one person you really don’t want to right now, especially in this state. He already thinks you’re pathetic enough as it is.

You walk up the stairs, dread settling heavily in the pit of your stomach the closer you get to the door. You cast up a silent prayer that the only reason Dean is home is because he’s got female company over. At least then, you can get in, grab some whiskey and get to your room quietly and unnoticed.

“Hey, what are you doing home so early? Thought you were staying at Chuck’s tonight?” Dean says from the couch, not even turning to look at you.

“Yeah, well, plans change. Why are you here? Thought you’d be chasing some skinny ass, barely legal bitch at the bar.” Your tone conveys pure disgust, and you curse yourself for it when he turns to look at you. And, of course, he laughs.

“What the hell happened to you?” he buckles, scanning your absolutely hilarious appearance. “You look like someone threw you in the river and left you to claw your way back out again!” Dean laughs, and you huff, desperately trying to stop the fresh batch of tears threatening to stream down your face.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Dean, there’s a torrential downpour out there.”

“Yeah, that explains the puddle at your feet, but not the rest of you, bitch,” he laughs, and that does it. You know he’s not being serious; you constantly hurl insults at one another, and it doesn’t usually get to either of you, but this time, it hits differently.

“The only reason I kept you around so long is because you’re like a bitch in heat. Always needing to be fucked. But that’s all you’re good for, and it grows old pretty quickly.”

Your eyes water, and your lip trembles. A sob escapes unchecked, and you wish the floor would open you up and swallow you whole. “I’m going to bed,” you mutter and turn to walk away.

“Y/N, wait,” Dean says, his face softening into concern.

“What, Dean? What? You wanna laugh at me more? Call me a bitch again, huh? Look, I know you don’t like me, but you know what? A little compassion can go a long way. Some humanity might make me actually believe you have a heart.”

Your mind replays every conversation you’ve overheard Dean having about you with his brother, his friends, and his conquests, and your heart sinks to the floor at how true your words are.

“Who? Her? She’s just my roommate. Baby, you don’t have to worry about her. We’re not even friends, and she’s not my type. She’s basically my live-in maid. She cooks and cleans for me and pays me for the privilege.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, what happened?” Dean asks, stepping towards you, frowning when you step back.

“Doesn’t matter,” you sniffle.

“Come on, you’re upset. Talk to me, tell me what’s going on.”

“Why? So you can make fun of me like you always do? We're not even friends, Dean. Stop pretending you give a damn about me.” The hurt furrowing his brow surprises you, and you scoff. “Don’t look so hurt, Dean. I’m only repeating your words back to you. I’m the live-in maid, remember?” you turn and walk quickly to your room, slamming the door.

Whiskey will have to wait until Dean’s gone to bed.

It’s been quiet in the main section of the apartment for over an hour now. It’s probably safe to assume Dean has gone to bed, and you can get the whiskey you’re so desperate to drown yourself in.

Leaving the sanctuary of your bedroom, you pad down the hall in your bare feet, trying to be as quiet as possible. Dean is a light sleeper, and he’d complained before about you waking him whenever you get up in the middle of the night suffering from a bout of insomnia.

“I was wondering when you’d come out,” Dean’s voice makes you jump as it rings from the small dining table by the kitchen window. He’s sitting in the dark, with just the moon’s light shining enough to see his silhouette. “I was getting worried,” he states, sipping from a tumbler.

“Oh, so you do have a heart?” you respond. It’s a bitchy comment, and you know it, but you’re in defence mode after Chuck. “Might want to show it once in a while.”

“Nah. Makes me look weak,” he chuckles. His joke caught you off guard, and you let out a little huff of laughter. “See? I knew I could make you smile!”

“Barely,” you quip back and sit across from him, grabbing the whiskey bottle and filling the empty glass Dean must’ve put on the table for you.

“What happened, sweetheart? You left here tonight looking stunning and happy, and when you came home—”

“I was crying, and you called me bitch,” you state, watching Dean’s head drop.

“Not my finest moment, I admit,” Dean says as he reaches for the bottle and refills both glasses. “I didn’t know how upset you were, and I was only teasing you. If I’d known that it wasn’t just the rain that made your mascara run, I’d never have said it, and I hope you know that.”

“I really wanna believe that, but you’re always saying hurtful things,” you say, draining your glass.

“The things you said earlier,” Dean nods. “I didn’t mean… look, Y/N, you’re a beautiful woman, and some of the girls I bring home get jealous, you know? I say those things to keep them sweet.”

You nod, thinking it’s a fair excuse. Dean does have a lot of women over, and you’ve pulled out the sting from more than a few of them.

“As for what I say to Sam and my friends, well, they tease me about living with a pretty girl and don’t believe me when I say we’re just roommates,” Dean continues. You have to admit that was also sound reasoning. It didn’t excuse it; he was still a dick, but you understood it a little better.

“It’d just be nice if you stopped for a second and thought of me as a person with feelings before you say those kinds of things in front of me,” you say, filling your glass again.

“Alright, sweetheart, I promise I’ll work on that,” Dean agrees, and you notice he’s watching you intently.

“What?” you ask, feeling uncomfortably exposed under his gaze.

“What happened with Chuck,” Dean asks again.

“I don’t want to tell you,” you sigh.

“Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing,” you whine and hit your head on the table.

“Come on,” Dean says, topping up their glasses again. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I promise whatever it is, it won’t be as bad as you think.”

“I got to the bar, and Chuck was there with another woman. He told me we were over and that Anna was his date for the night. Then, to rub salt in my wounds, as I was walking away, he told me that all I was good for was a great time in bed. Always up for anything, like a bitch in heat.”

“And then you came home, and I called you a bitch. Y/N, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Dean takes your hand in his, and you can see that it’s a genuine apology, and he really does feel awful about it. “You know he’s wrong, right? You’re worth so much more than that?”

“I don’t think I am. He’s not the only guy to tell me that,” you shrug. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m done with men and dating.”

“You don’t mean that. You think I don’t know about all the romcoms you watch on Netflix? All those girly books you read.”

“Yeah, well, a fat lot of good they did me. I’m starting to see why people are boycotting Disney Princess movies because they’re filled with romantic disillusionment and give a false idea to women that their Prince Charming exists somewhere out there.”

“This is more serious than I thought if you’re losing faith in the Disney Princesses!” Dean chuckles, and it makes you smile slightly. “Seriously, though, I think this is more about the men you date than you, sweetheart. They are way out of your league.”

“I am not out of anyone’s league, Dean. If anything, it’s probably the other way around,” you huff a bitter laugh.

“I’m out of your league,” Dean says quietly.

“You have that backwards. I’m the one out of your league. You’re gorgeous and charming, and I have seen the girls you bring home, and they are the most stunning women I’ve ever seen. I can’t compete with that.” The words spill out of you before you can stop them, and you think Dean might be blushing, but it’s hard to tell when the only sliver of light comes from the moon shining through the kitchen window.

Dean laughs, and it takes you aback slightly. “I have called you beautiful or some other variation of it several times tonight, and not once have you picked up on it. Those women are hot, sure, but you… You are on a whole other level of hot. You are stunning and so much classier than they will ever be.”

You scoff at his words, not believing them but not wanting him to know they affect you. You know Dean’s type, and it is definitely not you. “You don’t have to try and make me feel better, Dean.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. There’s a reason Sam and Cas and Benny are on my case so much about you, and it’s because I really, really, like you—”

“So, all the insults and barely tolerating my presence was what,” you smirk over at him, “you pulling my pigtails and pushing me over in the playground?”

“When you put it like that…” Dean cringes. “I guess it was. Look, you’re hurt and sad, and we’ve had a lot to drink, so I’m not going to push you to tell me if this is one-sided, but I will talk to you tomorrow when we’re both sober.”

The warmth of the sun wakes you, and you stretch in its gentle heat. You’re not nearly as hungover as you should be, and for that, you’re grateful. Dean had some interesting things to say last night, and you’d rather your brain was running at full capacity.

Quietly, you make your way to the kitchen, mindful that Dean’s door is closed, so it’s likely he’s still sleeping, and start the coffee machine.

You busy yourself with clearing up from the night before. You rinse dishes, put them in the dishwasher and put the almost empty whiskey bottle back in the cupboard. You grab your and Dean’s favourite mugs and place them next to the coffee machine.

Taking the cleaning spray, you spritz all the surfaces and wipe them down while patiently waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.

“How did I manage to find the only person in this city who likes cleaning?” Dean’s groggy voice sounds from the doorway, and you smile.

“Morning, Dean,” you say as you pick up the coffee pot and fill his mug. You place it on the breakfast bar and fill your own before hopping onto one of the stools and making yourself comfortable.

“Morning, sweetheart. Thanks,” Dean says as he picks up his mug and takes a sip. “So, about last night…”

“Wow,” you chuckle. “Straight to the point, huh?”

“I’ve wasted enough time, and now that my feelings are out there, I can’t sit on this any longer,” Dean pauses to take another mouthful of coffee. “I meant what I said. I like you, Y/N. I’m sorry if anything I did when I was in denial of my feelings hurt you. And I’m sorry for pushing you away and making you think I hated you so you wouldn’t find out how I really feel.”

“Dean, I don’t know what to say,” you say. “I used to like you in that way, but with how you were with me, I turned it off because, for the past year, I’ve been thinking you don’t like me, and I don’t know if anything is still there for you.”

Dean nods, looking a little deflated by your words, but it’s clear he accepts them. “Can I at least try and make you get it back?”

“I don’t know—“ you begin, but Dean cuts you off.

“Please, Y/N. One date is all I’m asking for,” Dean begs, and you feel your resolve waning. You know you still have feelings for him.

“I’ve seen the girls you bring home, Dean. And I’m nothing compared to them,” you try. It’s your last bit of fight, the last time you’ll be able to give him an out from this.

“You’re everything, Y/N. And I mean that. You are smart, funny, kind, beautiful… you’re everything they weren’t. Please,” Dean begs again. “Just one date. Let me prove it.”

“Okay,” you nod with a small smile.

“Yeah?” Dean says, breaking out into a boyish grin.

“Yeah. I’ll go on a date with you, Dean.”

“Awesome!” he grins, looking like he just answered the million-dollar question. “I promise you won’t regret it!”

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#everything #au dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x daughter!reader #au dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst

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apocalypseornaw · 8 months

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Can't be Her

AU Dean angst filled drabble no one asked for (NOT MY GIF)

I've never written anything for AU Dean but I liked this idea when it popped into my head so it's told partially from his pov

Making it through the portal was shock then seeing doppelgangers of Sam and himself? That was a little unsettling.

Dean had just gotten settled in the library with the other Dean and Sam when he heard a voice that nearly made him drop the beer in his hand. "Dean?"

Sam cut his eyes at him wordlessly telling him he'd heard it too, that the recent trauma of their world collapsing and universe jumping hadn't made him lose his mind completely.

He felt like his air had been cut off when you came walking into the room. You were wearing jeans and a black t-shirt with a dark red flannel. Even in clothing so damn simple you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid his eyes on "Y/N?" He was on his feet without thinking but your eyes widened and you ducked closer to the other Dean who spoke up "Woah buddy. Slow down there"

He realized what he'd done and quickly felt his face flush with embarrassment "I am so sorry" he walked out the room, unsure where he was headed but he couldn't face you. He'd listened to his heart instead of his head. He knew you were gone or well his version of you. He'd held her as she died. It was of some consolation too see that this Dean hadn't made his mistakes, he'd kept you safe.

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Everyone was silent after AU Dean walked out. You looked up at Dean who still an arm protectively around you "What was that about?" AU Sam half raised his hand and when you looked at him he smiled in that so achingly familiar way. Guess your Winchesters and the AU Winchesters weren't so different after all.

"You look just like his Y/N" Dean looked from you to AU Sam "What happened to her?"

AU Sam took a deep breath "I don't know if the three of you ran across Eve in this universe?" You nodded so he continued "She caught Y/N..... we tried so damn hard to get to her in enough time... our Castiel was killed in battle so there was no one capable of saving her....she died in his arms"

Dean's arm tightened around you, no doubt remembering every close call you'd ever had "No wonder he acted like that seeing you. I would've too"

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After he was sure he could be around you Dean headed back to the library. You were sitting next to the other version of him with your head laid over on his shoulder. Both Sams had disappeared.

"Y/N, Dean I apologize for earlier" the other Dean spoke first "Your Sam explained man. It's ok" you smiled softly at him before standing up "Is it ok if I hug you?" He looked to your Dean who shrugged "She makes her own decisions man. I trust her"

At that answer he nodded "Of course" you slipped your arms around him and he pulled you into his chest. He closed your eyes at the feeling of you in his arms, you even used the same shampoo and perfume she had.

After a moment you pulled away and he let you. You looked over at your Dean then back at him "I know I'm not her but if she loved you like I love him, she didn't blame you and she'd be happy to know you were still alive and still fighting" "Thank you Y/N" He replied with a small smile. You nodded "Of course"

#spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #au dean winchester #au dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader

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winchest09 · 1 year

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Yours to Protect - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Word Count: 4223

Summary: Y/N was a highly independent woman, focusing much more on her career than she did on men and relationships. She had no time to commit to something long term, opting instead to go in search of one night stands. It was fun, exhilarating, and freeing to be in control of her own life. No ties, no constraints, no commitments. Yet, while walking home after one mediocre night in the arms of another, she finds herself walking into something that would change her life…forever.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Swearing, talks of murder, talks of violence, fear, teeniest bit of fluff if you squint very very hard, sassy Dean, Sassy Y/N.

A/N: Anddddd we’re back to normal - it feels so good!! Thank you so much for reading this, I hope you enjoy the new add - let me know what you think if you have time - it means the world to me <3

I also want to say a massive thank you to my wonderful @deanwanddamons for being my wonderful beta, and for kicking my ass where needed. Love you <3 __________________________

Get six weeks ahead on Patreon! __________________________

Yours to Protect Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Let me know your thoughts!

Y/N was infuriated, her veins burning with the anger that fuelled them as she furiously threw Dean’s dressing gown across her bedroom. Not only had he purposely rudely awoke her, something she was convinced of despite his denial, but now he was demanding that she change her name, go to work in a garage and pretend to be his girlfriend!? She dreaded to think what was coming next, especially with how she was not able to predict her bodyguards next movements.

With hands on her hips, she paced back and forth as she lowly muttered to herself, wanting to calm down a little before she went back downstairs to the man who had managed to push every single one of her buttons. Yet before all that, she had to put on the clothes she was wearing yesterday.

With disgust, she eyed the pile of cloth that was sitting upon the old wicker chair by the window. She had thrown them there not long after her shower, not caring if they got creased or not because in her tired state of mind, she forgot that she didn’t have anything else with her. It was either that, or nothing. So, with disdain she marched over and pulled at the jeans, hiking them up her legs before she roughly grabbed for the t-shirt and hoodie, both of them citing ‘police academy’ in white lettering which caused her to immediately stop in her tracks.

She couldn’t go outside in these, not when she was meant to be keeping a low profile. This was just like basic advertising that she was under witness protection…right? If she put those on, then she may as well wear a massive neon sign that said “I’m the one in hiding”. But what else had she got? Y/N hated to admit it, but she was going to have to turn to her bodyguard for advice. Great.

With a heavy sign, and with said items held tightly in her hands, she marched over towards her door and pulled it open before she stuck her head out to yell for the man who had to help with this situation, “Dean!”

The journalist waited a few seconds, craning her head and angling her ear to aid her hearing to see if he had heard her but when she was met with nothing but silence, she let out a frustrated huff and raised her voice, adding an urgency to her tone. “DEAN!”

“What?!” He shouted back, heavy steps sounding on the stairs before he appeared at the end of the corridor, looking more than a little irritated at her disturbance. Still, within a few strides he was at her door, the wood only pulled back enough for her to pop her head through, not wanting to show him her bra covered breasts.

“I can’t get dressed,” she explained, watching how his frown quickly deepened with annoyance.

“Why the hell not?” He barked, crossing his arms across his broad chest as he stared her down. She knew he was doing this as a move to try and intimidate her, but it wasn’t working. If anything it only caused her to roll her eyes before she quickly threw the balled up hoodie and t-shirt in her fists at him, resulting in him stumbling to try and catch them.

“Do you not think this will ring alarm bells for people? You want to go to all lengths to protect me, so surely walking around town in police academy gear might raise some questions?”

“Well I can’t leave you here alone,” he argued, dropping the items he had in his hand to the floor carelessly, “That is completely out of the question.”

“So is me leaving the house with my breasts on show for everyone.”

Dean held her gaze for a good few seconds before he dropped his head with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with a finger and thumb. She knew he was going over options in his head, but she never anticipated him turning around and opening the door to the bedroom across from her. From her spot, she watched how he rummaged in a drawer that was just in view, before he pulled out an item and made his way back to her.

“Here,” he grunted, throwing a cotton t-shirt at her through the small gap her head was peeing through. She wasn’t as quick as him though at catching, so it fell to the floor, her eyes now trained on the light grey fabric that rested close to her feet.

“What the hell is this?”

“It’s one of my old shirts I left behind last time I visited, it’ll be fine for now,” he grunted as she bent down to pick it up, the cotton light between her fingers as she pulled it close to her chest. “Don’t get attached to it, we’ll get you some more stuff while we’re out.”

“Thanks,” she breathed, actually feeling grateful that he had thought of her in that respect. It didn’t negate his earlier actions though - those she was most definitely still pissed about.

Shutting the door not long after she had watched Dean walk away, she found the opening of the t-shirt and threaded her arms through the sleeves before pulling it over her head. When she looked in the mirror, she noticed that it had a faded Led Zeppelin logo on the front and it caused her to smile slightly. It was clear that this piece of clothing was old, and had been worn many times before now; it was also a tad on the large side, stopping at her mid thigh. Nevertheless, she made it work by tucking the front into her jeans just to attempt to make it a little more stylish. It would work for now, and ensuring that she looked the best that she could, she slipped her sore feet back into the heels she was wearing when she fled.

Feeling satisfied at her reflection and her appearance, she rubbed her palms against the thighs of her jeans before she exited her room and began the descent down the stairs towards her bodyguard. She might not be too keen on spending time with him, but she was more than ready to buy some clean clothes and more comfortable footwear. The sooner the better.

The journalist hadn’t anticipated him waiting for her though, and as soon as the kitchen came into view, their eyes connected. He was waiting against the long wooden table, his arms crossed across his chest as his eyebrows raised slightly at her appearance. Soon though, that cocky smirk she had seen so many times already adorned his lips.

“Hey look at that, first hour being my fake girlfriend and you’re already stealing my stuff,” Dean remarked, pushing off from his position as he checked his pockets for what she assumed were the keys to this place.

“Oh, shut up,” she whined exasperatedly. She was already so fed up with the situation, with him calling the shots and the idea of having to pretend he meant something to her. “So what’s the plan for today then, oh Master?”

Her sarcasm was paired with a mocking bow and a roll of her eyes, yet her actions didn’t seem to bother her bodyguard one bit. Instead, he just let out a low chuckle and flashed her a wink, “I prefer Sir.”

Y/N didn’t expect to choke on her own saliva but yet here she was, covering her mouth with her hand as she coughed and her eyes watered. She didn’t dare to look over at Dean, didn’t want to witness the smug expression that was probably painting his face right now as she tried to digest his words. Thankfully, though, he just continued the conversation without further comment on the matter.

“We’re stocking up on groceries, getting you some new clothes but first we’ll be stopping by the garage so Bobby can meet you before tomorrow.”

“Right,” she croaked, moving towards the sink so she could grab a glass of water.

“Oh, and then we need to sort out your hair like Sam suggested so keep that hat on will you?” Before she could even turn on the faucet, he threw the beanie she had been wearing at her before he turned to open the front door, not even giving her a second glance as he walked out and began to quickly check the area to ensure it was safe.

She had caught it easily, but stood a little dumbfounded as the words sank in. “You’re joking, right!?” Y/N called after him before she waited for a response, but none came. Instead, she marched towards the entrance of the house and saw him waiting for her on the sidewalk. “Dean, I’m not changing my hair color.”

It appeared like her words fell on deaf ears as he didn’t even give a simple response, instead he waited for her to shut the door behind her before gesturing to the hill in front of him with his head.

“Come on,” he encouraged, pointing ahead of him as he began to take a step forward in that direction. “The garage is only up here.”

She hurried to join him on his path, the warm sun unrelenting as it beat down upon them and she could only let out a low growl in annoyance. Not only is she in full jeans, heels and Dean’s t-shirt, but she was also being forced to wear a stuffy black hat which would only make her sweat even more so than usual. What a great first impression that’s going to make!

“Why aren’t you listening to me?” Y/N huffed, rushing to catch up to him so she could at least stay by his side instead of trailing behind like a shadow. Although it was impeccably hard to keep up with his strides when her feet were sore and aching, whilst being cocooned in uncomfortable footwear.

“I have no choice but to listen to you, Princess,” Dean sighed, surveying his surroundings before he looked down at her and forced a smile. “Now, time to put your game face on. In this town, people peek through their curtains when you walk past, and everyone knows everyone.”

With that statement, she noticed how he offered her his hand, his fingers slightly wiggling in invitation as he looked at her expectantly. He wanted her to hold his hand, to start off the pretense that they were lovers already and they had literally just left the house.

“Seriously?” She asked, her eyebrows meeting her hairline as she stopped walking, causing Dean to come to a halt too.

“One hundred percent,” he confirmed, his arm still outstretched as an invitation towards her. When she didn’t accept it straight away, he was quick to give her a reminder of their conversation only an hour before. “Remember what we talked about.”

For fuck’s sake, Y/N thought as she eyed his palm before her vision travelled to that of his smug grin. She couldn’t believe she had been put in this position, that this was her only way of surviving. How on earth was she meant to convincingly act as though she was in love with this man when he irritated her so deeply? When a single glance from him caused all the fires of fury deep inside of her to roar as though they’ve been doused with gasoline?

But what was she to do? There was no other choice.

“Ugh,” she groaned, curling her nose a little before she entwined her fingers into his.

Almost immediately, he tightened his hold, clamping down on her to ensure that she wasn’t going to go anywhere without his say so. If she didn’t know any better, she would have guessed that he was worried about her running to get out of this situation, but who was she kidding? She wouldn’t be able to get anywhere far in the heels that she was wearing.

“You could look more happy,” Dean stated, breaking her from her wandering thoughts as they continued their ascent of the hill. “Your incredible boyfriend of six months has whisked you away to the beach to get away from all your crazy for an undetermined amount of time.”

“My crazy?” She spluttered, not believing the words that were falling from his mouth so easily. Of course, it wasn’t entirely a lie - her life had gone a bit cuckoo in the last twenty-four hours but he didn’t have to make it out like it was a standard, everyday occurrence.

“Yeah,” he agreed easily, shrugging his shoulders before he waved sweetly at a passer-by, an elderly woman walking her toy poodle on the opposite side of the street, her focus solely on them. “It’s been a bit shit for you lately. Your mom is on your back constantly about everything and anything, plus you lost your job. So, with my encouragement, I told you to write that book you always wanted and whisked you out here for inspiration.”

“Wow. What a lovely fake boyfriend,” Y/N muttered under her breath, hoping he wouldn’t catch it but she was out of luck for that one.

“The best,” came Dean’s quick witted response, sending her a side wink as she chanced a glance at him.

If there was one thing her journalistic instincts were telling her when it came to her bodyguard, it was that he most definitely had an intriguing and interesting story. There was much more than what met the naked eye, and she was curious as to what may lie beneath his stony yet cocky exterior. Every now and then, she’s awarded a little peak at the core of him, like rays of sun trying to penetrate a dark cave through the rocks that block the entrance. But she wanted to know more, needed to know what he was about because right now, she was getting a whiplash from his multiple personalities. From standoffish and rude, to thoughtful and kind, to this flirty yet cocky side of him. There was one constant that remained through them all though, and that was his arrogant need to be right the majority of the time.

“You got your name?”

“Hm?” His voice broke her from her thoughts, and it took her a few seconds to register the words he had muttered while she was lost inside her own head. Yet when they did sink in, her face morphed into one of a grimace. “Do I really have to change it?”

“It’s just a precaution,” Dean breathed, slowing his pace slightly as he could tell that she was starting to struggle on her feet. “If they find out who you are, they’ll hunt down and check out every Y/N until they find the right one.”

“But what did you tell Bobby?” She questioned, her brows furrowed as she awaited his answer. “Surely he knows right?”

“Actually no,” her bodyguard clarified, looking ahead at their path as they continued to walk. “He told me he was in need of someone to man the phones, and I offered both our services. I told you, he trusts me. Hence why you are meeting him today.”

“But…what if I don’t remember it? Or I don’t answer to it? Don’t you think that would be a little weird?” Y/N had a point, and she knew it. It was one that made Dean look at her in question, his green eyes reading hers as he mulled over her query in his head.

“Alright, then what about a nickname? Something you’re used to someone calling you that is not general knowledge?”

“I guess,” she trailed off, and she didn’t even have to think about what that could be, knowing that she had one that she was called all the time back in her hometown, “That would be...CJ,”

“CJ?” Dean asked, his voice raising a little at the end to indicate that he was clearly thrown off by the name that left her. “What does that stand for?”

“Does it really matter?” Y/N argued, feeling heat warm her cheeks more than the sun was already doing as she thought about the truth.

“As your fake boyfriend, yes it matters,” Dean stated clearly, one hand on his chest as though he was trying to reinforce his point. It was then that he stepped in front of her to stop her from walking, his gaze trained on her face as he not so patiently awaited her answer. God, he was so annoying.

“Ugh, fine!” She relented, throwing her free hand in the air in exasperation while her next sentence left her in a whisper, “Calamity Jane.”

“As in the movie?” he attempted to clarify, his lips already upturning as he continued to vocalise his thoughts. “As in the western musical?”

“As in Doris Day, yes,” Y/N grumpily clarified, not enjoying the way his mouth was now adorning a widening beam of joy.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he chuckled, falling back to walk beside her as they continued their journey up what felt like the never ending hill.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“The way you got yourself into this situation, the way you walked into me while I was carrying a full glass of red wine for my date…”

Oh my god, would he let this go already? Y/N shouted in her head, already tired of having this same argument over and over again.

“Okay one, this situation hasn’t got anything to do with me being clumsy by nature and secondly, you weren’t looking where you were going,” she clarified, poking him hard in his arm as that was all that was deemed appropriate considering they were out in public and she had a part to play.

“No no,” he disagreed softly, enjoying this moment far too much. “It was you that wasn’t aware of her surroundings.”

“You have your theory, I have mine,” she argued under her breath, not allowing him to win this just because she had to pretend to be his doting girlfriend.

“It’s not a theory, it’s the truth,” Dean contested, nodding his head forwards in a gesture for her to look ahead.

When she did, she noticed how a garage was coming into view, the building small but welcoming. There were a few cars out front, as well as a large workshop with its doors wide open and an old Volkswagen lifted into the air.

“In your opinion,” she hushed back, knowing that the closer they got to the place she was going to be working at, the less she was going to be able to state her piece.

“You’re infuriating,” Dean huffed, his good mood from moments earlier having dissipated now they were walking across the parking lot of the business.

“Feelings mutual,” she murmured, hoping that he wouldn’t hear it as the last thing she wanted to do right now was to have a massive slinging match in the middle of a car park and in front of people she had never met.

Before she could let her mind go any further though, an old yet seemingly happy man came out to greet them as he wiped his greasy hands onto an used rag that had been tucked into the back of his overall pocket. He looked kind, like the years had been good to him and it shocked her that out of all the places she could have laid low, Dean had chosen to put her here. The last thing she wanted was to get any civilians hurt just because she was an individual that was being hunted like she was a piece of meat.

“Dean!” The elderly mechanic bellowed, his arms outstretched wide for a hug as he approached, and her bodyguard happily obliged. She immediately attempted to let go of his hand, wanting to give them some space but Dean was not letting her go.

“Hey Bobby,” he said gently, a warmth to his tone that told her this man was important to him.

“And you must be his new girl,” the older man surmised, gently slapping Dean on his shoulder before he looked over at Y/N, extending his palm for her to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you…”

“...CJ,” she finished off his sentence, looking quickly back at her protector who gave her a small smile of approval. Looking back at Bobby, she mirrored his happy expression before sliding her free hand into his and shook it.

“Welcome to my little slice of heaven, CJ,” Bobby said with a happy tone, turning towards his garage before he gestured for the pair to follow him. “I’ll be honest, I’m glad Dean decided to whisk you both down here as I am in desperate need of extra pairs of hands.”

“Business booming?” Dean asked, taking in his surroundings as they walked into the open working space. There were tools strewn about on various workstations, a small old radio in the back pumping out classic rock and a little office that was situated in the corner, its thin windows lined with horizontal blinds that were in desperate need of dusting.

“Somethin’ like that,” the older mechanic clarified as he guided them through the workspace, stopping short of a dirty and oil splotched door. His fingers wrapped around the brass handle, before he opened it and gestured to the highly messy inside. “You’ll be in here CJ. Answering calls, booking appointments, helping make sure the ship runs a bit tighter.”

“That I can do,” she confirmed, although she tried to suppress her shocked expression at the mountain of papers and folders that seemed to be in random piles all over the place.

“And Dean, we have a complicated repair with your name on it,” Bobby chuckled, motioning with his hand for them to follow him further into the back of the garage. It was there that her eyes fell upon bright red paint, the vehicle capturing her attention almost immediately; it was beautiful. “Old mustang, stubborn bastard; it’s right up your alley.”

“Sounds fun,” Dean chuckled, knocking his knuckles against the hood as he surveyed it, taking it all in.

Maybe working here wasn’t going to be so bad. She was going to be in her own little room, where the blinds could remain shut so she wasn’t going to have to permanently look at her bodyguard's face or remain in his immediate vicinity. That would be her own slice of heaven, her own piece of solitude away from the man that was currently in charge of her every movement.

“Benny isn’t here right now, else I’d introduce you to him,” Bobby continued, scratching at the beard that adored his chin. “He’s off putting his moves on Andrea down at the beach.”

To that, Dean let out a loud laugh and Y/N couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled in the corners when he was genuinely happy. “He still trying?”

“He never stopped. She certainly gives him a run for his buck, that’s for sure,” the mechanic chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back onto the hood of the mustang, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, we gotta run a few errands Bobby, but do you want us here at 9am tomorrow?” Dean questioned,

“Sounds good, kid,” the mechanic confirmed, “Look forward to having you both.”

“Thanks for the opportunity,” Y/N politely said, giving him a warm smile to match her words. She might have been irritated at the start about having to work somewhere while in witness protection, but now she had seen the place, she was starting to come around to the idea that it could be a good way to keep her mind occupied. She was still worried about bringing danger to this good man’s door though.

“No need for formalities, CJ,” Bobby huffed a small laugh before looking over to the green eyed man that was still holding tightly to her hand. “Dean thinks highly of you, he wouldn’t just allow anyone to meet his nearest and dearest, let alone work with them everyday. That means I know you’re going to do just fine here.”

He thought highly of her? She thought, Well we all know that’s an act.

Still, it gave her confidence that maybe they could actually pull this whole fake couple thing off, that they wouldn’t raise any suspicions as long as they kept their story straight and their game faces on. Maybe, just maybe, she would be safe here after all. But before her thoughts could wander anymore, before she could get lost in the mystery of Dean she was building up in her mind, the man himself tugged gently on her hand and brought her attention back to him.

“Come on, I promised you some new clothes,” he said sweetly, giving her a loving smile before he let go of his hold on her and instead, slid his arm around her shoulders. It was all for show, and the look the mechanic in front of them gave the pair confirmed the exact same thing that she was thinking. What a smooth motherfucker.

“Well, enjoy and Dean, I wish you the best of luck,” Bobby laughed before he waved them off with his cloth, “Rather you than me.”

——————————————– Chapter Eight - Coming 2nd November ——————————————– A/N: Hehehehe - what do you think is gonna happen next? ;) Let me know! Thank you for reading. Tag list is open! If you want to be step into the darkness with me, then let me know HERE :)

Tags will be separate <3

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chicorogers · 2 years

Text

Lady.

Alternative title: Dean Winchester Has A Chick Flick Moment.

Words: 1,196

Content warnings: poor self esteem, poor body image, restrictive eating, masturbation is alluded.

Author’s notes: This is pure 100% self-insert fic. I all but practically made Dean say my name. (Hah.) But in a way, I hope this helps out someone as much as it helped me. Enjoy.

:more:

You knew better than to look into mirrors.You had gotten so good at it that it was really just reflections from windows and doors that caught you off guard.

A part of you knew you were healthy. You knew that the body you had now was better than the body that you had then. But another part of you, the less rational part, wanted you back at those 92 pounds. Sure, you couldn’t see your collar bone anymore. And counting your ribs was a thing of the past.

But still. Shouldn’t you be thinner than you are?

Drying your hands, you kept your gaze down, careful not to look into the mirror directly ahead of you. But movement in the background made you look up for a moment. You smiled briefly as Dean entered the motel room, take out in hand.

Seeing yourself straight ahead wasn’t too bad. But seeing yourself from the side, you saw yourself as much bigger than you were. You shrunk inward, trying to make yourself thinner than you were. It wasn’t working; nothing ever worked. You had skipped lunch a few days ago but it didn’t do much other than make you have a headache. You had gotten pretty good at skipping meals here and there, not raising suspicions.

Sighing, you moved your gaze from your body as a whole to your overall look. Your short hair was just a touch longer than Dean’s. Maybe you should grow it out? Didn’t guys like their women to have longer hair? It’d be a more feminine look.

Speaking of feminine, your outfits could do with an overhaul. As it was, jeans, boots, loose fitting tshirts, and Dean’s flannels were your go to. On the rare occasion would you wear a skirt and even then it was out of necessity as the weather was just too hot for pants.

“Listen, I got you shrimp lo mein and, since I love you, two egg rolls. Granted, I also got myself two but that’s beside the point.” Opening up the containers, he looked your way, “I even got you extra shrimp so that your shrimp to lo mein ratio is better.” When you didn’t respond, he leaned back in his chair. “You good?”

Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you forced a smile, “Yeah, all good.” Joining him at the table, you steeled yourself to eat. Food was fuel, right? You could do this. You could eat in front of Dean. And then tomorrow you could skip to balance it all out.

Dean started a conversation of no consequence as you simply moved food around, none of it really reaching your lips. You hummed in response when there was a break, but all you could think of is how this was going to just add to your already too large body.

“Shouldn’t we have sex?” You asked, completely cutting him off.

Dean almost spit out his beer, “What?”

You shrugged, “Sex. We should definitely have it. Do it? Have it.” Your eyes met his, “We should."

Dean set down his beer bottle, holding your gaze, “What’s gotten into you?”

Pushing your food away you shrugged again, “I just think we should.”

“We have our own arrangements.” Tilting his head, he tried to catch your gaze but you averted your eyes.

“Just thought you’d want to have sex with me.” You muttered.

Dean worked his jaw, noticing how full your take out was still of food, before he stood up, “Alright, shoes on. We’re taking a ride.”

The car ride was silent save for the purr of Baby’s engine. Watching the scenery pass by, you bit your lower lip, wondering what was going to happen. When Dean pulled off into a field and turned the engine off, you held your breath.

His voice was quiet, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s -“

“Don’t,” Dean raised his voice before catching himself, “Don’t say nothing.”

Shrugging, “I just, I thought we should have sex.”

“Should.”

“Yeah.” Turning to him, “Don’t you want to?”

“You don’t want to. So I don’t want to.”

You sighed, “Yeah, okay, 'cause that’s normal. A guy not wanting sex.”

Rubbing his face, he shook his head, “You drive the bus, sweetheart. What you say, goes, that’s how we do things. That’s how we’ve always done things. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

You fiddled with your hands, tugging at your (his) flannel, “Okay.”

“You haven't been yourself in over a month. You’ve been skipping meals and even when you do eat it isn’t nearly enough.”

“I haven’t-“

“Don’t you lie to me.”

Admonished, you kept your head down, “I just feel big. Like, heavy? And shouldn’t I dress better? And grow out my hair?”

Staring at you, he stayed silent for a moment, “C’mon.” He exited the car, motioning for you to do the same. Placing his hand under your chin, he brought your eyes to meet his, “Listen, I know I’m not one for sentimental crap.” He cleared his throat, “But you, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me. And no, I don’t need sex from you. I’ve never needed that from you. We got our own thing and I’m damn satisfied when we’re done. And I know you are cause you always sleep with a smile on as soon as we’re done. As for the rest of it: I think your body is as good as it’s ever been.” He smiled, “You are an amazing woman that I can barely keep up with. When we first met, I figured I didn’t have a snowball’s chance, and you gave me the time of day. I still don’t understand it but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Moving his hands to frame your face, “I wish you saw what I see in you: courage, kindness, sexy, intelligent. If I have to remind you every day until you believe it then so be it. There are hundreds of women out there that all dress the same, act the same, have their hair the same. But you, you are the one and only you. And I wouldn’t have you any other way. I love your curves and I love having someone to hold onto. ‘You got some meat on your bones’ as my dad would say. And I’m here for it. And when you walk around in my shirts it just does something to me. You have a presence and when we’re not together, I go almost crazy.”

You sniffed, tears forming, “You’re pretty okay, too.”

Chuckling, he pulled you in, kissing your temple, “Hold that thought.” Reaching through the open driver’s side window, he pressed something on the console and soon the beginning notes came through the speakers.

Pulling you against him, one hand across the small of your back, the other taking hold of yours, he swayed the two of you together, half mumbling, half singing the lyrics,

Lady, when you’re with me I’m smiling

Give me all your love

Your hands build me up when I’m sinking

Just touch me and my troubles all fade

When the chorus hit, Dean spun you around and you couldn’t help but smile.

#dean winchester fluff #au dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x chico #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #sebastian stan #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x you

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wildgirllz · 1 year

Text

Your camera roll if you hunted with Sam and Dean.

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zepskies · 7 months

Text

Series Masterlist - Smoke Eater

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: "Smoke eater": a self-appointed slang term for a firefighter.

Get ready for an AU! Several SPN characters will make their appearances: Sam and John Winchester, Castiel as "Cas Novak," Ellen and Jo Harvelle, Jack Kline, Benny Lafitte, Gordon Walker, Meg Masters, Chuck Shurley, Nick (yes, even him), and more!

Series Tags/Warnings: (**18+ only!) There will be a lot of heart, a lot of fun, drama, heartbreak, protective Dean, and even a murder mystery. Rating for eventual smut, perilous situations, and other chapter-specific tags.

🎵 Listen While You Read: The Smoke Eater Playlist

Chapters:

Part 1 - Class and Style

Part 2 - Lieutenant Winchester

Part 3 - Got a Hold on Me

Part 4 - Rocky Road

Part 5 - Twitterpated

Part 6 - Just Casual

Part 7 - Cherry Pie & Lemon Drizzle

Part 8 - Likewise, Baby

Part 9 - Do Not Disturb

Part 10 - Toil and Trouble

Part 11 - Heart of the Home

Part 12 - All in the Family

Part 13 - Boiling Point

Part 14 - Message in a Bottle

Part 15 - The Good Part

Part 16 - Break Down the Gates

Part 17 - The Real Deal

Part 18 - V for Vendetta

Part 19 - Sacrifice

Epilogue - Easy as Pie

Series Complete!

🎙️ Podfic:

Listen to Part 1 in podfic form!

(Cover image and narration by @talltalesandbedtimestories)

Or listen to the official Idling in the Impala episode on YouTube:

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

Comment below if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#Smoke Eater Masterlist #series masterlist #Smoke Eater #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester AU #firefighter AU #supernatural #spn #dean winchester smut #Detective!John Winchester #lawyer!Sam Winchester #Detective!Castiel #zepskies writes

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jordanmoreau · 5 months

Text

I have you / Dean Winchester

→ dean winchester x reader, 1,4k words / fem reader

; in which certain feelings are made known, tongue tied and flushed cheeks♡

You watch absentmindedly from across the diner as Dean leans casually against the counter, a grin plastered across his face as he chats to the female server.

His T-shirt rides up ever so slightly as he leans forward and you cough awkwardly, shifting in your seat to face away fro him, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands as if to climb further inside it. Sam, who’s sitting opposite you with his nose buried in his notes, peers up to gives you a knowing look.

“He’s just being Dean,” he says calmly, nodding his head in his brothers direction. You freeze for a second, feeling caught. Sam doesn’t take his eyes off you for a prolonged second, wondering if he should reassure you some more but decides against it. He can tell you feel uncomfortable and so he moves his gaze from you.

It’s not that you don’t appreciate Sam’s attempt at comforting you. He had noticed your affections for Dean a while ago, watching the way you’d lean into him for comfort on every case or how you’d laugh at every stupid corny joke. You swallow, shaking your head slightly. It didn’t do you any good to keep pining after him.

It’s then that Dean returns to the table, a tiny piece of paper gripped in his hand. Your stomach does a painful flip when you notice it. The servers number? You look away again, focusing on the parking lot outside. Dean however takes notice of this, sliding into the seat next to Sam. Sam didn’t bother looking up at his brother and simply slid over a handful of pages, to which Dean rolled his eyes.

Dean instead turned his attention to you, mirroring you as he tries to figure out what you’re so intently looking at.

“What’re we looking at?” he says, startling you. He’s leant across the table, propped up by his elbows as he looks toward the parking lot and then back at you. He gives you a closed lipped smile when you don’t say anything.

“Y/N?” he murmurs softly. He’s close enough that you can smell his cologne. It overwhelms you a little and you sit back in your chair. His eyebrows knit together in confusion and he too sits back.

“Just thinking,” you reassure quietly, giving him your best “I'm okay” expression. It feels like a grimace. He searches your face for a moment and then nods, apparently accepting your words at face value.

—

The next evening, you find yourselves holed up in a motel, two rooms between three of you. You try not to look too alarmed at this at the front desk, the bags slung over your shoulders suddenly feeling like dead weights.

“Sam, can I bunk with you,” you ask instantly as you’re leaving the reception kiosk, hoping he can detect the pleading in your voice. Dean frowns at you, scratching his cheek with the back of his hand. Sam begins to agree when his brother interjects, stepping closer to you.

“What about me?” he pouts. Your heart pangs and you try to appear nonchalant, shrugging. He frowns again and Sam, who’s trailing behind you both, chucks the second set of keys at him. "Here,".

Dean catches it with his spare hand and mutters something you don't quite catch. Sam hums in agreement.

You decide to walk in front of the pair, needing to get in bed as soon as possible. Your whole body felt heavy and your feet dragged as you made your way down the hallway.

Dean follows you closely. It’s then that you recognize the right door number and plop your bags down on the door mat finally, groaning as your shoulder twinges.

“You okay?” Dean asks, his hand coming up to rest on your arm gently. You flinch for a second, not realising he was that close behind.

“Y-yeah,” you mumble, trying to ignore the way your arm felt hot under his touch. He rounds you now, standing opposite you at the doorway. He’s looking at you with an unreadable expression, lips pursed.

“Are you?” you ask him awkwardly. His stoic exterior breaks at that and he blinks at you, almost like he’s offended at the question.

“Am I okay?” he scoffs. He doesn’t answer you, unlocking the door instead. With ease, Dean pushes it open and gestures inside. You now blink back at him, not moving. "Ladies first," he deadpans.

“I’m sharing with Sam,” you say lamely. Dean ignores you, hiking your bags over his shoulder and entering the room. You glance back over your shoulder and see Sam entering the room on the far left. He turns back to close the door and shoots you an apologetic look. Traitor, you think.

You sigh, admitting defeat and walking inside the room, closing the door behind you. It’s nothing special, dank and small. Two beds are pushed against the far wall, sad beige comforters draped over cream white sheets. Dean is sat on the furthest one from you, jacket now discarded and hanging over the bathroom door. He's wearing a greyish blue shirt underneath, the short sleeves hugging his biceps tightly. It's your favorite on him. You shift from one foot to another, not knowing where to place your hands.

He’s placed your bags at the foot of your bed. You stand in the entrance for a moment too long and Dean notices. He always does.

“Are you going to sit down or am I gonna have to put you to bed myself?” he asks. You flush slightly, cheeks pink and move hurriedly towards your stuff, muttering a quick sorry as you do. Dean huffs loudly.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” he asks exasperatedly. His upper body is turned toward you. You don’t miss the note of worry in his tone and you feel guilty.

Usually you’d play along with playful banter or his flirty comments and he wasn’t used to your solemn expressions and your sad eyes. It made his heart twist in a way he wasn't used to. It was painful and he didn't like it.

“I’m just…”you struggle for the right words to say, feeling tongue tied. Admitting your feelings for him was just out of the question. God you wished Sam had roomed with you like you’d asked.

Dean waits patiently and when you don’t finish your sentence, he pushes himself off the bed. You’re perched on the end of the bed now and he crouches so that he’s almost eye level with you.

“Is it something I said, or did?” he questions you. Again, you feel guilty. You shake your head quickly, lips pressed together in a tight line. He makes a “hm” sound that sounds pained and you break.

“I’m just not feeling my best,” you lie, trying your best to meet his gaze as he listens. “It’s not you,”

Dean doesn’t respond for a moment and you think perhaps he’s bought what you’ve said. However he scoffs again. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

His tone is somewhat harsher than you think he means but his face is soft, lips slightly parted as he silently pleads with you. You fidget, not sure how to answer him. “You know I care about you,” he whispers. He’s closer then you had realized. So close that you swear he must hear your heartbeat quicken.

“Did you call that girl?” you ask weakly, taking a sharp intake of breath as you spoke. Dean stares at you blankly for a moment.

“Girl?” he says, bewildered. You nod slowly.

“The girl from the diner,” you say, eyes trained at the tv stand just past Dean’s head in your line of sight. You fidget again.

“Why would I call her? I have you,” he says. You can’t help but laugh at that, it sounding shrill and foreign given the mood. It echos against the silence of the room. It seemed just like Dean to lighten the mood by giving you some line, something to cheer you up. But when you finally look back at him his face is serious. There’s no sign of amusement.

“She gave you her number though, right?” your voice is barely audible. He hears you though and a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. He half rolls his eyes, clearly bemused.

“And that means I have to call her?” You look at him. So he wasn’t interested in her after all. Maybe Sam was right, he was just being Dean.

He cups your cheeks lightly with his callused hands all of a sudden and you feel like all the air leaves you. “I have you,” he repeats. You feel dizzy.

“Don’t I?” he asks softly. He searches your face as if worried you don’t agree. You notice the way his shoulders have tensed.

“Yes,” you breath. His shoulders relax and he flashes you the most Dean smile imaginable.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #sam winchester #supernatural au #supernatural x reader #dean winchester au #supernatural imagine #imagines #dean winchester imagine #jensen ackles

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pinkiebieberpie · 1 year

Text

DATING DEAN WINCHESTER:

- he may not seem like it, but he is the biggest fan of cuddling,

- dean loves doing research with you, mostly because it always comes with lots of kisses,

- he is always touching you, he adores little, gentle and innocent touches,

- he also loves playing with your hair,

- and let's be honest he loves when you are playing with his hair; his head on your lap, just relaxing and you touching his hair, that's heaven for him,

- long car rides in the middle of the night!! talking about anything and everything, eating burgers at midnight, enjoying your time together,

- also making out in the impala ALL THE TIME; you sitting on top of dean, his hands on your ass, and of course it can get steamy,

- he loves cooking with you, when you two are alone in the bunker you always do that with a music, so you can sing and dance in the kitchen,

- dean is melting when you are on top of him during sex, he's a sub, but that doesn't mean he can't be more dominant,

- he just needs to be close to you, touching your hands, putting them above your head when he is the one making you feel good,

- this man loves taking photos of you: when you are doing chores around the bunker, when you are doing research, when you are reading, sleeping, when you are doing anything really,

- he also has a polaroid of you in his wallet,

- taking photos with you naked in bed after sex? yes.

- i was talking about cooking, but can you imagine baking with him?? "babe, can we make a pie?", "dean, again??", "i love pies and i love baking with you 😇😇" he's just a big, adorable baby sometimes,

- dean is an overprotective boyfriend even though you can take care of yourself,

- you are the one always winning rock-paper-scissors with him,

- he loves when you are wearing his clothes, especially when you are sleeping in his shirts,

- lazy mornings with him = breakfast in bed and big cups of coffee;

supernatural masterlist ++ tagging my sun @fleurfairie ☀️

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 6 months

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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

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Note

Hey there, I was wondering if you could write a little Dean one-shot where he gets the reader to squirt?

hey, I hope you like what I wrote.

summary - dean gets you to squirt with just his fingers.

warning - smut, fingering, squirting.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let me hear you. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.” Dean curls his fingers as he says this, smirking as he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, back arching as your moans escape you and fill the room. “That’s a good girl. You’re so wet. So tight around my fingers.”

“D–Dean! Too much!” You squeal, and your hand moves down and grips his wrist, holding on as you can’t decide if you should push it away or pull it closer, so his fingers reach deeper inside you. Your mouth drops open, and soft whimpers escape you, feeling your core tighten. Your eyes snap open as you feel something weird. “S–stop, I feel weird… What’s happening?”

Dean’s thumb rubs your puffy clit, curling and thrusting his fingers faster. “Don’t worry, sweetcheeks. It's a good thing. Just let go.” His mouth waters as he stares down at your dripping cunt, watching your cream coat his fingers. A smirk appears as you spasm, a pornographic scream falling from your lips as your juices squirt out of you, covering everything. Dean chuckles, pulling his hand out of your used cunt and toward his mouth, staring you deep in the eyes as he sucks your juices off his fingers. “Damn, sweets. You taste so damn good, maybe even better than pie.”

Your cheeks turn a rosy pink as you hear his words and watch him suck on the fingers that were just inside of you.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#imyourbratzdollasks #imyourbratzdollwork #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester au

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jackles010378 · 5 months

Text

MASTER LIST:

Visiting Dean in Hospital

Walk in the forest

Jealous Jensen (interview)

sleepy head dean part 1

sleepy head dean part 2

sleepy head dean part 3

sleepy head dean part 4 {smut}

never been kissed

the boy next door

i cant do this anymore part 1

i cant do this anymore part 2

i cant do this anymore part 3

i cant do this anymore part 4

jealous dean (yoga)

trick or treat

Don't lick your lips (smut)

Happily Ever After Part 1

Happily Ever After Part 2

Happily Ever After, Oh Baby....

Dean in Glasses

From Beyond The Grave

Under The Mistletoe

Beyond the Monster (Benny Lafitte story)

I Can Only Speak The Truth

Snowed In

A Christmas To Remember

Our First Christmas

Christmas Eve Night Fun

Epic Christmas Adventure

Midnight Magic

A New Years Eve to Remember

A Prank Gone Wrong

Flannel of Desire

Saturday Night Special

Instant Relief

An Unthinkable Choice

Its In His Kiss

Happy Birthday Dean

Surprise?

Unexpected Encounter

A Detour To Remember

A Night To Remember

SUPEr Flexible

Intoxicating Pancakes

Valentines Day Surprise

Power Of Love

The Wrong Winchester

Love On The Tee

Steady Ground

A "Leap" Of Faith

Its All About You

Met His Match

A Gift of a Lifetime

Dancing In The Rain

Wait Till I Get Home

Demon Dean Jealous?

The Depths of their Love

Regarding y/n

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #supernatural #jackles #jensen ross ackles #spn cast #soldier boy #deanwinchtser #jensen ackles gifs #beau arlen #jensen ackles fanfiction #dean winchester fan fiction #beau arlen fan fic #jensen ackles x y/n #au dean winchester x reader

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pink-sparkly-witch · 5 months

Text

Just Like This

Summary: Working a second job in a bar to help pay for Sammy’s education, Dean finds a kindred spirit in bar manager Y/N. When a drunk Douchebag gets too handsy with her, Dean quickly jumps to her defence but faces harsh consequences.

Pairing: Bartender!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Rating: Teen

Bingo Square: Getting Fired for @j3bingo

Warnings: tw: sexual assault (groping), fluff, angst, fighting, minor violence, Chuck is a complete and utter asshole in this, getting fired, quitting in solidarity, first kiss, friends to lovers

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Okay, it feels like an age since I’ve written anything that’s just pure floof. I hope you enjoy this fluffy, protective, besotted Dean fic. Please be kind. I’ve had my angst hat on for a long time, and though this was really refreshing, it’s also a little daunting!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

It wasn’t the best job in the world, but as part-time work went, Dean knew it could be a hell of a lot worse than this. He worked with his dad in the garage during the day and worked four nights a week and two shifts at the weekend in Shurley’s Sports Bar. His wages and tips went to his dad to help pay for Sammy’s education. Sure, the kid had a full ride to Stanford; however, he still needed to pay for accommodation after freshman year and the thousands of books he needed for his coursework. And at least this way, his dad didn’t put himself in an early grave by working all the hours God gave him. Lord knows he’d done enough of that when they were kids.

Shurley’s was a decent bar. It had a prime location between the University of Kansas campus and downtown, so it always has a steady stream of customers. It quietened during the summer when the students went home or on their travels, but the locals still made trade steady enough. The owner, Chuck, was a bit of a dick, but he barely showed his face around the place, and the other staff were decent, making it a great place to work.

“Hey, Dean,” Y/N said as she came out of the back office. Y/N was the bar manager and a great girl. They had a lot in common; both lost their mothers when they were young and looked after their younger siblings while their fathers worked three jobs to try and make ends meet. Y/N’d had to drop out of college when her father took unexpectedly sick, having to take care of him and her little sister. Now that her father had passed and her sister had a full ride to another prestigious college, Harvard, Y/N lived in the tiny apartment above the bakery where she worked four days a week and in the bar four nights a week and every Saturday night. The rest of the time, she studied part-time to finish her college education and sent every spare cent she had to her sister in Boston.

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled at her. She was pretty, too, and Dean wasn’t afraid to admit that he had a massive crush on her. Not that anything would ever happen because she was her, and he was… well, he wasn’t good enough for a girl like that. “How are ya, sweetheart?”

“I’m good, Dean. How are you? Oh! Did you manage to get Sam’s apartment sorted?” Y/N asked, and he smiled that she’d remember such a thing.

“Yeah, it’s all good now. We managed to get the rest of the deposit together,” Dean said. “Thanks for the extra shifts, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” Y/N smiled. “I still can’t believe landlords can actually do that,” Y/N shook her head as she headed behind the bar and started filling the refrigerators with bottles of beer and wine to prepare for the busy Friday night shift.

“Yeah, us either. But it’s done, and he has somewhere to live,” Dean said as he put the last menus and condiment buckets on the tables. “What needs to be done next, boss?” he asked, smirking when Y/N chuckled. She hated being called that, but he seemed to be the only one she didn’t scold for it.

“I could use a hand changing over the barrels if you’ve got time?” she said, breaking up the cardboard that the bottles had been housed in.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Dean headed into the storeroom and started shifting the beer barrels behind the bar as Y/N continued putting bottles in the fridges and replacing the almost empty spirit bottles with full ones to accommodate the busiest night of the year: Friday night football and Freshers Week.

The bar was packed with customers, the warm, sunny weather drawing even more of them in than usual, and of course, Chuck had decided tonight was a good night to show face and ‘help’, putting the staff on edge. Dean had gone with the head down and get on with it attitude, glad it was three deep at the bar so he had an excuse not to have to entertain Chuck for very long.

Y/N had been running around after Chuck all night, finding this paperwork and that invoice and the employee payroll for the past six weeks. Eventually, when he couldn’t possibly ask for anything more, she’d escaped the office, having brazenly told her boss that she was needed front of house to help serve customers.

“I swear,” she’d said as she tied her little black server’s apron around her waist, “It’s like he fucking knew tonight would be the busiest night but still came to check months old paperwork! God, that man is insufferable!”

It wasn’t often that Y/N showed her annoyance, and Dean couldn’t help but think it was cute. Though, admittedly, that could be his crush talking, her furrowed brow and tiny pout were adorable.

“What can I do to help?” he asked as she took her place behind the bar.

“I should be asking you that question!” she giggled. “What do you need me to do?”

“We could do with someone collecting and cleaning the empty glasses, if you wouldn’t mind?” he responded, smiling as she picked up a basket, cleaning spray, and a cloth before he’d finished his sentence.

“You got it,” she winked and headed onto the floor to clear and wipe the tables down. And that, Dean thought, is what makes a good boss. Someone who works with the team to achieve the same goal. Someone who isn’t afraid of stepping in to help by doing the most mundane tasks that are below their pay grade.

Y/N was a breath of fresh air for him in so many ways. She was bubbly and caring, and no matter what was thrown her way, she responded with an air of calmness and dignity that he admired.

“Hey, man. What can I get ya?” Dean asked the next patron, finally taking his eyes off the girl slowly taking over his every thought.

“Be careful,” Dean said as Y/N headed back onto the floor to clear more glasses and tables. “It’s getting rowdy out there. You know what those college boys can be like.”

“Thanks, Dean,” she smiled. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

He knew she would be. He’d seen her handling every kind of drunk customer. Still, he’d watch her closely because he was more worried than usual. The crowd tonight seemed even more enthused thanks to the local sports team playing. It still surprised him how often the female staff got touched inappropriately and had the most vulgar things said to them by too drunk and far too confident men. More than once Dean had had to step in and stop something from going too far, and he’d do it as many times as he needed to for Y/N or any of the other female staff.

Y/N managed to get around most of the bar unscathed, but there was a particularly boisterous table of men who only frequented the bar when the Chiefs played. Dean had been watching them all night because they seemed to have forgotten their age and tried to out-drink their much younger counterparts. They’d already run their mouths off to the bar staff, and now one of them in particular had their beady eye on Y/N as she moved from table to table, collecting empty glasses and bottles.

Swapping her tray out for an empty one, Y/N made her way over to their table, and the second she got close enough, the balding guy with the beady eye was quick to rear his hand back and smack her ass. Dean’s hackles rose, and he was on high alert as he watched her give the douchebag a piece of her mind. But he didn’t stop. Douchebag wrapped his arms around her waist and tried pulling her onto his lap. All the while, his douchebag little friends laughed and cheered him on like he’d won a fucking prize.

Dean saw red as he ran around the bar and strode purposely over to the group of middle-aged men amid a mid-life crisis and pulled Y/N from his hold, dragging her behind him to protect her.

“The lady told you to leave her alone. I suggest you do that,” Dean fumed, only getting angrier at Douchebag’s smirk.

“Oh, ladies and gentlemen, we have a jealous boyfriend trying to protect his girl! You know, if she were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t let her out the house wearing something so…” he paused as he leered up and down Y/N’s body, “revealing.”

“Listen, asshole, you don’t want to piss me off right now. Why don’t you and your buddies call it a night and go home? You’ve clearly had too much to drink, and we don’t take kindly to people assaulting our staff here,” Dean’s jaw was clenched, but he’d somehow managed to keep his voice steady.

“Sorry, man,” Douchebag smirked as he stood. “Just can’t help myself when I see a pretty girl showing off half her body like a Goddamn little tease. She’s asking for it, really.”

That was the last straw, and as Douchebag made one final (and unfortunately successful) attempt to get his hands on Y/N, Dean pulled his fist back and punched him square on the nose. The resounding crack as Dean broke the guy’s nose was satisfying, as were the synchronised grimacing ‘oohs’ that the audience this little corner of the bar had attracted.

“You broke my nose, asshole!” Douchebag spluttered. “I’m reporting you for assault!”

“You do that,” Y/N said, “and I’ll have you arrested, too. This whole bar and the CCTV saw you grope me twice and clearly saw me trying to get you off me! What he did,” she pointed at Dean, “was save me from being sexually assaulted!”

“Come on, man,” one of Douchebag’s friends said, patting him on the back. “Let’s get you to the hospital. It’s not worth it.”

“Damn straight it’s not!” Dean yelled. “Any way you spin this, he doesn’t win, so get the hell out and don’t come back!”

Tail between their legs, Douchebag and his friends left the bar. The second the door shut behind them, Dean was next to Y/N, checking her for injuries.

“I’m fine, Dean,” she insisted, but her eyes told a different story. The encounter had shaken her up, and Dean wanted to fix it, needed to fix it.

“No, sweetheart, you’re not. You’re–” Dean began but was interrupted by the shrill voice of Chuck.

“Winchester, my office, now! You too, Y/N.”

Seeing Y/N sitting beside him on the other side of the desk was strange. This was where she did all the paperwork, payroll, ordering, and invoicing, so to see Chuck on her chair was disconcerting. And not good.

“I don’t know what was going on out there–” Chuck began, and Dean scoffed in disbelief.

“You’re bar manager was sexually assaulted by a customer. That’s what happened!” Dean sat forward on his chair, raising his voice. He only calmed when Y/N placed her hand on his forearm.

Chuck pursed his lips at his outburst and continued speaking as if Dean hadn’t interrupted.

“I don’t know what happened, but whatever it was, sexual assault or not,” Chuck looked pointedly at Y/N before he continued. “It’s no excuse for my staff to behave violently.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Dean fumed. “That… scumbag… touched her ass and her breasts and tried to force her into his lap! You see those bruises, right?” he asked as he pointed to the dark purple fingerprint marks on her arms.

“Inappropriate comments, slurs, even touching, is to be expected when you work in a bar–” Chuck was interrupted again, this time by Y/N.

“There are no touching policies in every strip club in the country for a reason, Chuck! You cannot expect it to be any different in a fratboy sports bar! No one should go to work expecting that being sexually assaulted is okay!”

“For God’s sake, Y/N! So what a guy touched your ass and tits! You should be flattered!”

“It was sexual assault, Chuck! That guy,” Y/N pointed behind her in the general direction of the bar, “touched me without permission, and I could have him charged! You too with how you’re behaving!”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic! I feel sorry for your boyfriend if this is how prudish you are!”

“Hey, that is–” Dean interjected, but Chuck kept talking.

“Dean, you’re fired. I cannot, and will not, allow a violent brute to work in my bar.”

“You can’t do that!” Y/N protested.

“Watch it, or you’ll be gone, too!” Chuck threatened, but Dean knew it was an empty one with her. He needed her too much. The bar would burn to the ground without her in charge.

“No need. I quit. Effective immediately. I cannot, and will not,” Y/N glared at Chuck as she repeated his words to him, “work in a place where I’m expected to be sexually harassed and assaulted and ignore it. I cannot, and will not, work for a man who fires a good person for helping someone in need.”

Standing, Y/N took off her apron and name tag and threw them on the desk. She unhooked the keys from her belt and pulled the cash box towards her, opening it and pulling out two brown envelopes, handing one to Dean and putting the other in her pocket. Once she’d locked the cash box, she tossed her keys down on the cheap metal desk with a satisfying clang.

“Really? You’re going to quit over him?” Chuck scoffed.

“Yes. Dean is worth a thousand shitty bar jobs like this one, and I’d choose him over any of them in a heartbeat,” Y/N said with her head held high. “I hope you know you’ve just lost your two best workers on the busiest night of the year. Come on, Dean. Let’s get out of this shithole.”

Dean didn’t protest. He stood up, smirked at Chuck because he just couldn’t help himself, and followed Y/N out of the bar and onto the street.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t need to do that. I’m a big boy, and I can look after myself,” Dean said after walking in silence for a few minutes.

“I know you can, and yes, I did. That was unfair and undeserved. Especially because it was my fault,” Y/N responded.

“Hey, don’t ever… it wasn’t your fault. Things like that are never the woman’s fault, you know that, right?” Dean couldn’t believe she’d ever think something like that would be her own doing.

“I know, but if I’d listened to you and let Marcus clear tables instead of me, none of this would’ve happened.”

“No. I won’t hear it. You didn’t ask to be groped by a balding douchebag going through a mid-life crisis, sweetheart. Don’t ever apologise for someone else’s wrongdoing,” he reassured her.

“So, what do we do now? We both kinda needed that job,” Y/N chuckled, but it held no humour.

“Well, I might know a guy who owns a wine bar downtown. A classy establishment, so the tips are better. And we’d be treated right,” Dean said, thinking of the bar Cas had tried to get him to work in for months.

“You have a buddy with a bar, and you chose to stay working in that shithole?” Y/N asked in disbelief. “Why? What would possess you to stay there? Willingly?”

“It wasn’t all bad,” Dean smirked. This wasn’t where he envisioned this conversation going–if it ever happened at all, that is–but the perfect opportunity had presented itself and he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t take it. “I got to see you almost every day.”

“Come on! You did not stay there for me!” Y/N scoffed, and Dean shrugged his shoulders, his lips tugging upwards in a shy smile.

“I did, actually. Can’t think of anyone better to spend so much time with.”

“Dean Winchester,” she grinned. “Are you flirting with me?” The teasing tone in her words was one he’d never heard before, and he liked it.

“Do you want me to be flirting with you?” he’d asked, needing to hear her say it before he did something stupid because he’d misread the signals.

“Yeah… I think I do,” Y/N giggled, stepping closer to him, bumping their arms together as they stepped in sync down the sidewalk.

“Yeah?” he asked, checking again because, quite frankly, she was her and he was him.

“Yeah.”

Dean stopped walking and gently grabbed her forearm to stop her from walking ahead. Feeling brave, Dean placed his hands on her cheeks and dipped his head, slowly lowering his lips to hers. Every inch closer he got, he switched his gaze between her lips and her eyes, making sure this was what she wanted.

When there was no hesitation and nowhere else to go, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers. They were as soft as they always looked, softer even, and tasted as sweet as he’d imagined they would.

Y/N pressed herself closer to him with a low hum and slid her arms up his chest, resting one hand on his pec and the other curling around his neck. Dean licked her bottom lip, encouraging her to open her mouth and let him deepen their kiss.

He failed to hold back a groan when his tongue met hers, the feeling so much better than anything his mind could’ve conjured up. Dean couldn’t remember how long he’d wanted this, and now that it was happening, he knew he’d do whatever he could to keep her in his arms, just like this.

#j3bingo #just like this #au dean winchester x reader #bartender!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #fluff

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alexsoenomel · 27 days

Text

Camping Shenanigans

Summary: You like both brothers and you decide to go camping for Sam's birthday.

Pairing: Sam x Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , implied smut, kissing, fluff

Word count: 4.9k

Note: Not beta read. It has been sitting in my drafts for months. Enjoy!

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

"Camping? Are you serious?"

"Yes, Dean, it's my birthday," Sam answered.

"It was my idea," you chimed in as Dean shot you a death stare. "Kinda," You added.

***

It wasn't actually your idea. You just asked Sam a simple question:

“What’s something you always wanted to do but never had a chance to do it?”

He said camping.

"Why do you ask?"

"Your birthday is coming soon!" You told him and stuffed your face with some scrambled eggs you decided to have that morning.

"So?" Sam was a bit confused. He never really cared much about his birthday.

"Let's do something fun for your birthday. Every year is the same; Dean celebrates his birthdays hammered and dodging STDs like bullets, my birthdays are depressing because I'm always broke or sad or both, and yours…it's like you don't have birthdays."

"So,do you wanna go camping for my birthday?"

"Yes! And we can celebrate in nature with lots of alcohol."

"I mean sure, but Dean's gonna –"

"Oh fuck what Dean says he's coming too."

***

"Kinda?!"

"It will be fun Dean, besides spending time in nature will be good for you," Sam said.

"Actually, concerning amount of booze and chicks with daddy issues are the only two things that are good for me, not this!" He still kept protesting.

"You're going, Dean!" Sam told him.

"Fine, but if a snake bites me, I'm shaving your head!"

"Yeah, yeah! Pack a bag, we're going tomorrow morning!"

"TOMORROW MORNING?!" Dean’s voice went an octave higher.

"Yeah, and I'm driving!" Sam smirked.

"Not a chance," Dean simply said before taking a sip of beer.

You and Sam found a wonderful campsite in Greenheart National Park in Wyoming and decided to book it, long before telling Dean. Two nights under the stars in the middle of nowhere sounded wonderful, but Dean still wasn't impressed. Even after telling him, it wasn't a traditional campsite – it had toilets, outdoor showers and all-inclusive breakfast, lunch and dinner – he still wasn't impressed. Dean being Dean - he was protesting and whining, right until you actually sat in his car and he started the engine. He didn't like the idea, but it was Sam's birthday tomorrow and he would go to the ends of the Earth for his little brother.

The drive was long and seemed endless. Between trying to get comfortable, taking a nap, listening to music and eating snacks because of boredom, you couldn’t wait to spend time in nature and watch the stars. Sam was visibly excited, asking Dean every two hours where you were, explaining how to set up a tent, telling fun statistics about bear attacks which made Dean a bit uneasy. Sam’s inner child was slowly healing and yours was just happy to tag along. Dean's on the other hand…his inner child just wanted to get back to bed.

“This is going to be fun!” You laughed. “Dean, get ready to fight bears!”

“Shut your mouth!”

*****

After approximately 13 hours you finally arrived, far away from civilization. Everything was green, the sky was blue and the air was fresh. It was almost 9pm and even though it was May, it was a bit chilly.

"You will all get your tents, feel free to set up anywhere you like, but please don't go far away from the station," The bold man was speaking, aka the owner. He was a middle-aged man, very athletic and taller than Sam. Nice obnoxious smile too. "Dinner is in an hour and if anyone has to shower, showers and toilets are behind the gazebo. We will start the bonfire at 11pm if you wanna join. I'm making some good ol' homemade chips. Hope you enjoy your stay and please if you have any questions, concerns, I'm here."

"He seems nice," You whispered.

"Yeah, and bold," Dean added, clearly trying to sound funny. He tried and failed.

“He might be bold, but next to him you’re just a scrawny little bitch,” you clapped back, hoping it would sting him.

“Ouch!” It did.

Sam laughed.

*****

“So, do you want to share a tent?” You asked the brothers as they shared a look of concern.

“Well…” Sam started, but was unable to finish his thought.

“Mmm..” Dean too.

They didn’t like the idea, so naturally you decided to go with it and ask the owner to give you the biggest tent he could find. “For the three of you?” The guy asked, pointing a finger at Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup. You were the last one to get your tent. Some people already found their spot and set up theirs.

“Yes, the biggest one please. I don’t wanna be suffocated by these two.”

The guy chuckled. “Roger that!” He then went into the storage room and started rummaging through his things. After a minute he came back holding a large black bag. “Here you go!” He said and tossed it to Sam. “That will do!” He also gave you three sleeping bags and you were off.

“Thank you so much!” You said.

****

You found your spot far away from people next to a pine tree that was sticking out from the rest of the forest that was behind you. The hill was beautiful, grass perfectly cut, the sky covered in stars like freckles scattered all over, while the air felt colder than an hour ago.

“I have no idea what I’m doing!” Dean said, trying to see which part of the tent goes where, while you used the flashlight on your phone to guide him.

“Let me!” Sam said and gathered all the poles in one pile. He read a thing or two about different types of tents and recognized you got the one with a porch aka ‘the fancy one’.

“Well happy birthday Sammy!” You told him. “Congratulations on being one year closer to death!”

“Wow (Y/N), you sure know how to make a man feel like crap!” Dean scoffed.

“What’re you talking about Dean? I praise him all the time. Both of you!”

“Yeah, praise my ass!”

“You do have a great ass!” You winked at him. Dean just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms looking offended.

Sam laughed at your joke. “Thank you, but it’s not midnight yet!” ***

An hour later, Sam finally set up the tent and Dean was already on his second beer. This campsite was known for having unlimited amounts of booze and Dean was one happy camper when he found that out. Meanwhile Sam was really proud of himself for setting up his first tent. It was spacious and brand new. When you put the sleeping bags in, you realized you were going to get squished by the brothers. The tent was big, but not big enough.

You liked that idea, considering your long history of liking both of them and not being able to decide. It had been over ten years and you still couldn’t decide. They both had qualities you desired in a man and were special in their own way. Sam’s height and intelligence made you want to climb him like a tree and never get down, while Dean’s perfect smile and snarky humor made you want to make him whimper under you. They were childhood friends and lived across the street, and since your parents liked to hang out you would see them almost every weekend.

Once they moved across the country you still stayed in touch - texted and called every once in a while, but your heart was aching for them. You missed them dearly. It all fell into place once you saw Sam one random Monday morning on campus at Stanford and your shenanigans started again. Dean decided more education was too much for his brain, so he opened a small music store in San Diego and was doing surprisingly well. You started hanging out again, going to pubs, having movie nights, game nights…

You and Sam would also visit Dean and everything seemed to make sense once again. You were like three peas in a pod – same but slightly different.

Over the years you learned how to ignore your feelings and push those thoughts away, and yet sometimes you'd catch your stomach flipping every time they would bring up past relationships or flings. They both didn't want to settle down, and while you liked the idea of it, you were picky and hadn’t found someone who was worthy of you to settle down with.

"Shower and alcohol?" You asked Sam, since Dean had already showered and was now on his third beer.

"Yes please."

Showering in nature was a first for you. You thought you were going to freeze but surprisingly even though you did, it felt amazing on your skin. You enjoyed the wind making you shiver.

“How was it, Sam?” You said, stepping out of the shower in nothing but a towel. Sam actually took the time and got dressed in the wooden shower cabin.

“Cold.” He answered, his voice shivering. His wet hair was slick back, a blue shirt accentuating his muscles, while the gray sweatpants he wore particularly outlined his cock, making it hard to focus.

The things I’d do to that man are ungodly and borderline illegal.

SNAP OUT OF IT!

“And refreshing,” You added.

“You should get dressed before you get sick.”

“Okay, mother!” You rolled your eyes and went back to the tent.

Anything for you, handsome!

***

Dinner was delicious – Dutch oven mac and cheese. Everybody got one big full plate and it was better than you could imagine; very salty and cheesy.

It was nice to sit and look at the bonfire while eating your favorite childhood meal but soon you just wanted to get away from the people and loud noise. You stuck around for a few minutes, watching the fire and chatting with a few nice girls you met while waiting for dinner before your social battery completely died. You excused yourself and left. You weren’t in the mood for small talk anymore – Sam and Dean were a lot better at it than you and they were a lot more social too. You decided to watch from afar and sit on the porch swing that was looking directly at the bonfire surrounded by people having a great time. You were sipping your beer watching the fire go wild as the bold guy threw a few branches, making it stable enough to actually start making his homemade chips in the skillet. You felt like a kid again. The beer was just enough to relax you even though the taste wasn't the best. The stars decided to shine that night, while the crescent moon was too shy to show its whole face.

“Having fun over there?” You heard a familiar voice and saw a shadow of a person approaching you. It was Dean.

“Yeah, just don’t feel like talking to people,” you told him.

He sat down next to you and put his beer bottle next to yours. You exchanged looks in semi- complete darkness and made a toast.

“Cheers!”

“Happy birthday to Sam!” You said, looking at Sam who was talking to a guy much shorter than him.

“I swear it was yesterday he was learning how to walk,” Dean told you.

“You sound like my mother,” You chuckled.

Your mind was getting tired and since the swing was made out of wood, you were struggling to get comfortable. Your head decided to rest on his shoulder as you took a sip of your beer, eyes still on Sam. Your hands wrapped around his arm as you lifted your legs on the swing. His arm was firm and he smelled too good for your own good – something between leather and pines surrounding you. He seemed to be tense though, or at least that was what you thought.

“Dean, I don’t bite, unless you want me to! Relax!”

You couldn’t see but he just rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I’m relaxed!”

“Well damn, you have been working out then!” You decided to compliment him. As much as you loved roasting him, making him feel good was also important to you.

“Not so bad for a scrawny little bitch, huh?”

“Shut up!”

***

The night was growing cold and you were getting tired. You didn't know the time, since your phone was back in the tent, but one thing you knew – it was time to go to sleep. The Winchesters were having a great time lingering in the crowd so you decided to leave them to have their fun and go to sleep.

"Guys, I'm gonna go hit the sack!" You shouted from afar, since you saw, they were talking to someone – a man you didn't know and didn't want to know.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)?" Sam asked.

"Yeah I'm tired! Good night, guys!"

"Good night!" They said in sync.

You snuggled up in your sleeping bag, shivering from the cold and realized; since you were sleeping on the ground you won't be able to get one hundred percent comfortable so the only logical thing was to take melatonin for sleep. That magic pill could make any surface feel like clouds and on top of that made you actually have nice dreams, since you didn't dream as much.

You took one pill and chugged a good amount of water. You were out in about 45 minutes.

***

Sam's lips were on your neck, kissing, biting, making you shiver; while Dean's lips went lower and lower. You didn't know which name to moan first, hell, you didn't know where you were, but it was blissful and a whole lot of sinful.

Dean's lips reached your panties and before he moved them to the side, he placed a kiss making you squirm. Sam's large hands were playing with your breasts while he couldn't separate his lips from your neck.

As soon as Dean's tongue touched your throbbing clit, you arched your back in pleasure. He was slow, and with the combination of Sam's rough kisses, your body was overwhelmed and feeling nothing but intense pleasure.

"Dean!" You whispered. “Dean!”

"(Y/N)?" Dean mumbled, his eyes half open, even though he couldn't see shit.

"Sam! Fuck!" This time, a whisper, sounding more like a light moan of his brother's name.

"You kiddin'?" He was now fully awake and fully aware you were in fact not trying to wake him up.

"So good!"

"I'll be damned!" He whispered, not really sure what to do. Sam wasn't saying a word so he figured he was in a coma since he had too many beers a few hours ago. You were squished between them but somehow ended up being closer to Dean so he decided to snap you back to reality.

"(Y/N)!" He whispered, this time a little bit louder. "Wake the hell up!" He said, trying to shake you to wake you up.

"Huh, what?" You finally mumbled as he violently pulled you back to reality. It took you a couple of seconds to realize it was, all in fact, just a dream.

"You snore like a buzzsaw!" He lied.

"Oh sorry!"

And without saying anything else, you both went to sleep. It took Dean a couple of minutes though, since he couldn't stop thinking about what he heard.

Dirty girl.

Was the last thing he thought before passing out.

****

The next morning you woke up well rested but in pain. Your body felt stiff until you stretched and actually got out of the tent. It was cold during the night, the air was fresh, but with the first rays of the sun came the heat, and you weren’t awoken by the sound of your alarm, it was the heat and stuffy air. When you looked at your phone, it was almost eight in the morning and time for breakfast. You were alone in the tent, Sam and Dean were already up. You got your toothbrush and toothpaste and went to do your business. You couldn't stop thinking about the damn dream. It was too vivid for your own good. The way Dean kissed you with his perfect full lips, Sam’s hands on your hot skin, their moans, groans and big girthy co-

“Good morning, princess,” you heard Dean say as you waited in line to get your breakfast sandwich, still sleepy. He wasn’t a morning person whatsoever so hearing him sound this jolly was strange.

“Morning,” you didn’t even bother to look at him as you turned around and went to find a place to sit. People were already chatting, having their morning coffees and enjoying the fresh air, while you struggled to exist. It was too early to think, too early to speak and too early to be a human.

Dean followed you after he poured himself another cup of freshly made black coffee.

You lazily opened your sandwich from the wrapper and took a first bite; ham, cheese, ketchup, lettuce…usual stuff. It was a little dry for your taste buds, but it wasn’t bad.

“How did you sleep?” Dean asked, sitting next to you.

“Like a baby,” You mumbled, chewing. You could feel his eyes on you, as you turned to look at him, he was indeed staring back at you with a little smirk on his face. “What?”

“Oh I bet you slept real good,” he teased. His deep and raspy voice was too close to your left ear, sending shivers down your spine, all over your body. You ignored it.

“What are you implying, Winchester?” You asked, genuinely confused, not really thinking about…oh. OH! You remembered. The dream. Maybe he heard you mumbling in your sleep. Do I sleep talk? You still played dumb.

“Dream a little dream of me and Sammy, eh?” His smirk was still there, you knew he wasn’t going to let it go.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” You replied. “Where’s Sam?”

“He went Dora the explorer around the park.”

Sam was both night and day. He enjoyed both darkness and light. The darkness was for reading and the light was for hiking and jogging.

After you finished breakfast, you poured yourself a cup of coffee that was now lukewarm. It still tasted like coffee when it touched your lips and still gave you that kick you needed.

Dean was still keeping you company for some reason, he was close, too close and kind of getting on your nerves. You had a feeling he wanted to ask you something but swallowed all the words in the English language. You assumed what he was curious about, you just didn’t want to embarrass yourself. We are our egos after all, and in time we learn how to tame that part of ourselves and not let it control us. You weren’t going to blush and get flustered in front of Dean Winchester.

“What’s the plan for today?” You asked.

“Did you dream about sleeping with me and Sam?” Dean evidently didn’t register your question. And he finally found the words. You choked on your coffee not expecting to be hit with a question. You didn’t expect that kind of question.

“You did!” He said as his face lit up in a second.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

He was a child. A man-child. He wasn’t going to let it go, not until you confessed. Sighing in frustration, you calmly put down your coffee-stained mug and looked him in the eyes. They were beautiful, greener than the forest around you.

“I did,” you confessed.

“Yeah, I know I heard you,” he smiled, showing off his perfect teeth. He was beautiful but you still wanted to punch him in the face.

“Can I drink my coffee in peace now, please?”

“Yes, you may, sinner.”

The embarrassment you felt disappeared as soon as you saw Sam coming back from his little, to quote Dean, ‘Dora the Explorer’ adventure, all sweaty and ready for a shower. You weren’t embarrassed, you were horny.

“Morning!”

“Morning Sam!” You spoke.

“Sleep well?”

“Oh yeah, you bet she did!” Dean told him. You rolled your eyes.

Sam gave him a confused look not getting the joke. He doesn’t know.

“Awful, your brother kept making happy noises all night,” you lied. Figured you would get back at him for being a dick. Dean’s mouth slightly opened.

“Dude, gross!” Sam’s reaction was more than welcome considering Dean hadn’t stopped annoying you ever since you had a bite of that dry sandwich. Once he left to shower, you turned to his older brother.

“Don’t fuck with me!”

***

The day was cloudy and cold. Some people were playing board games and listening to music, some were reading their favorite books, while others went to explore the national park. You immersed yourself in the book you were currently reading, while Sam and Dean played Monopoly under the kitchen gazebo that wasn’t just a kitchen, it had a space for everything; space where you could sit and relax, a table, and two couches placed right across each other. A multipurpose gazebo: kitchen, dining room and a living room. Well, Sam was teaching Dean how to play and Dean was losing and cursing every few minutes.

“You were never good with money, Dean!” You chuckled, eyes still on the page you were reading.

“And you’re loud!” He sassed. You lifted your head to look at him and he just gave you a wink. You knew damn well why.

You elected to ignore it.

Soon enough, it was lunch time: delicious goulash and for dessert, a slice of apple pie.

“Warrior food!” Dean said, stuffing his mouth.

He wasn’t wrong. The food was fresh and absolutely delicious.

“Do you guys want to play volleyball after we eat?” Sam asked.

“You’re joking?” Dean lifted his eyebrow. “I don’t do sports and I especially don’t do sports after lunch.”

“Grandpa!” You said and told Sam to count you in.

A few minutes later, the bald, good-looking dude came to say there was going to be another party, from 7pm to when everybody goes to sleep. He also said there was going to be lots and lots of alcohol considering it was a goodbye party. Dean was excited, you were too busy reading your book and Sam finally bankrupted his older brother.

You ended up playing volleyball with Sam for almost two hours. He asked the bald guy if they had any volleyballs after lunch and the guy was more than happy to be of service. There was a small chunk of land which they turned into a volleyball court, far away from people who were hanging out around the gazebo and far away from Dean who decided to take a nap after eating too many slices of pie.

“Are you enjoying your birthday so far, Sammy?” You asked as you served him the ball which, he slammed a little too hard and it flew across your head.

“Oops!” He said with an awkward smile. “Best one so far!”

“Told you!” You raised your voice going a few steps away from the court to get the ball.

As you were playing and growing tired, you couldn't help but notice how tight his black t-shirt was, perfectly hugging his body as he started to sweat. His hair still a little damp, slick back and tucked behind his ears, his lower lip between his teeth trying to concentrate on the ball in the sky – the man was simply gorgeous. It was hard to concentrate on the damn game when your mind wandered.

How does his lips taste? Does he have a big dick? Probably. The man is huge. FOCUS!

So many questions and no wins.

After losing 3:0, you decided to take a shower and get ready for the party. You were in the mood to drink and not get nervous around both brothers.

It was getting cold, so after a quick cold shower, you decided to wear your favorite pair of gray sweats and a very old Led Zeppelin hoodie your dad gave you a long time ago.

People already started drinking by the time you finished getting ready.

"Hey, nice hoodie you got there!" Dean commented as soon as he saw you. One of the things you absolutely adored about Dean was his awesome music taste. You were both old schools.

"You've seen me in this at least a hundred times Dean!" You chuckled.

"And every time I'm going to tell you how awesome it is," he said proudly. "Where's Sam?"

"Showering."

"Again?"

"Yeah, you know Dean, after physical activity you get all sweaty and gross," you told him and took a paper cup filled with red wine from the table under the gazebo. Suddenly, the familiar melody of Toxic by Britney Spears blasted through the speakers.

"It was sweaty and gross alright," Dean joked and like always, you rolled your eyes, and took a sip of the wine. It wasn't too sweet and definitely was cheap considering how watered down it was.

***

After three cups, you grabbed your fourth one as your vision started to blur. Your thoughts were scrambled, between being nervous because of Dean's annoying teasing, and not giving a flying fuck about anything and just wanting to let loose, but there was a sense of tranquility in them. You loved the idea of him knowing your dirty thoughts, and you loved even more watching Sam being simultaneously confused and stunning while listening to you two bicker. The alcohol wasn't helping you. The undying need to be in a delicious Winchester sandwich only grew stronger with each sip…

You saw Sam coming from the toilet after the shower and something in you snapped. You swallowed nervously before chugging the rest of the wine and decided to toss all the fucks you had out the window.

“Hey, handsome!” You said, seeing his face change from content to a little nervous. You'd never called him that.

“Hey!” Was all he could muster.

“In the mood for a drink?”

“Sure,” he said. “But only one, and I'm out. I’m tired.”

“Okie dokie.”

Sam's drink of choice was beer. Dean was somewhere in the crowd, nowhere in your sight. Perfect.

“Cheers!” He said. No matter how big or small his smile was, his dimples would always show on his cheeks and you found it adorable. He was adorable and his lips were much more kissable after almost four cups of wine.

“Cheers,” you smiled back. “To you Sammy!”

“I didn't tell you but you're a solid volleyball player.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A solid player? Really? You won 3:0.”

“Well, yeah because you're short, and for some reason your focus was nonexistent but your serve was excellent.”

“I'm short?” You weren't offended by any means, he was in fact much taller than you, but still surprised he said it so bluntly.

“Short and sweet?” He corrected himself with an awkward smile before taking another sip of his beer.

“Sweeter than sugar, sugar,” you didn't know where that came from. It sounded kind of lame, you thought, so you quickly changed the subject. “And my focus was nonexistent because of your sorry ass.” You said before playfully tapping him on his shoulder.

“Me?”

Something about the innocence of that man made you absolutely feral. You had a feeling he wasn't so innocent behind closed doors. The idea of his lips on yours didn't want to leave your mind as your eyes couldn't stop staring at him with pure, drunken adoration.

“(Y/N)?”

You wanted to speak but something told you to not use a single word of the English language. Instead, you pulled him by his black hoodie and crashed your lips on his. Surprisingly, he didn't pull away, his body was stiff for a few seconds before letting go and deepening the kiss, making you balance yourself on your tiptoes. You felt him cup your left cheek with his free hand as you bit his lower lip, earning a moan from him. His nose crashed against yours, tasting alcohol mainly from your lips, Sam felt his cock getting hard. It hit him that he was wearing gray sweatpants so naturally that was a sign to pull away. People around you were too busy singing ABBA songs to give a fuck.

“Well…” Sam said, not knowing where his thoughts were as he instinctively looked down and saw the outline of his cock. “Crap.”

Your gaze followed and you were happy it did. He was big, bigger than you'd imagined.

"Sammy, is that a gun or you're just happy to see me?” You winked. That was horrible.

“Shut up,” he sassed back, giving you a bitch face he would always give to Dean.

He covered his groin with his hands, looking around awkwardly to see if anyone was looking. Of course they weren't. Everybody was either drunk or high or both.

Suddenly Sam's gaze was fixed behind you as he visibly clenched his jaw. You turned around and of course it was Dean.

“Oh there you are!” You said with enthusiasm and kissed him, pulling him closer by his jacket.

Sam was stunned, while you could feel Dean smiling before kissing you back and letting you put your tongue in his mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and enjoyed the softness of his puffy lips on yours. He was a lot gentler than Sam – more innocence but still the same amount of passion.

When you finally broke away, your drunk self just mumbled, “You two are irresistible.”

Sam was still visibly confused while Dean couldn't stop smiling.

232 notes · View notes

winchest09 · 2 years

Text

Yours to Protect - Chapter Two

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Word Count: 2666

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Swearing, murder, violence, gun violence, hostage type situation, fear, scary situation, threats, taunts.

A/N: Just a side note...this series has started to evolve into something I didn’t see coming - fake dating anyone? lol. Thank you all so so much for reading, it means the absolute world. Don’t worry - LO is dropping tomorrow too!

I also want to say a massive thank you to my wonderful @deanwanddamons for being my wonderful beta, and for kicking my ass where needed. Love you <3 __________________________

Get four weeks ahead on Patreon! __________________________

Yours to Protect Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Let me know your thoughts!

Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried her hardest to not make a sound, tiptoeing ever closer to where the tortured noise was coming from. They were bleeding from an alleyway, the high walls acting like amplifiers for every small sniffle and plea this poor person was making. Y/N knew she had to be careful, her every instinct screaming at her to run in the other direction but her journalistic curiosity prevented her from doing so. Maybe she could help whoever this was.

Carefully peering down the darkened side-street, she had to control the noises she wanted to make where her eyes landed upon the sight in front of her. There, knelt on the uneven cobblestone road, was a young man who must have been no older than nineteen. His head was pouring with blood, his cheeks bruised and swollen as his hands were currently outstretched in front of him, shielding himself from more harm. Circling him were two men, both dressed in long black trench coats as they sneered down at their victim.

“You’ve let us down, kid,” one of them spoke loudly, pushing on the young boy's head.

“P-please…p-please, I-I’ll do w-whatever you w-want,” he begged, panic evident in his voice as he tried to hold his tears at bay. He was terrified.

“Well we wanted you to destroy those files but instead…” the other man spoke up, cracking his knuckles before bending down to become face to face with his target.

“...they just disappeared,” his accomplice cut in, before making a mocking gesture. “Poof.”

“I swear it wasn’t me!” The young lad shrieked, his eyes wide as he frantically shook his head, “I’m telling the truth!”

“We don’t believe you,” the first man spat, his fist fastly connecting with the nose of his prey.

Y/N was mesmerized by the violence in front of her, disbelief flooding her veins as she questioned whether or not this was real. But when she heard the pain-filled screams that echoed off the cold stone walls, she realised that this was her reality.

“Last chance,” the integrator shouted, causing the journalist to jump in her spot.

“I s-swear, it’s not…I didn’t,” his victim sobbed, his face now beaten to an unrecognisable state. His body was tired, that much was obvious when he started to wilt onto his side against the cobblestone.

“Shame, I liked you.” The way the sentence was spoken by one of the assailants made Y/N’s blood run cold. It was emotionless, calculated and downright sinister. It was then that she heard the panicked whimpers of their victim, his feet desperately scraping against the floor as he attempted to push himself back further away from them.

“No…NO…PLEA-”

His voice was silenced.

A shot had been fired, the spine shaking sound reverberating off of the walls causing the journalist to jump in fear. Her eyes were wide, her mouth agape as she stood frozen to the spot, unable to move. Fear had paralysed her; she had just witnessed someone's life being taken from them, her gaze focused on the red streams that were currently weaving their way through the intricate cobblestone brick work. It was like time had stopped around her, allowing her thoughts that were moving at a million miles an hour to play clearly as she attempted to make sense of what she had just seen. But none of those deliberations were as prominent as the notion inside her head telling her to run.

Suddenly, and without hesitation, Y/N turned in her spot and began to flee the scene. She was in fear for her own life, and wanted to get away as fast as she possibly could. However, she was not expecting for one of her heels in her hand to collide with the wall she had been leaning against, causing a small chunk of loose cement to fall to the floor, and clatter against the concrete.

“The hell was that?” One of the men said, his words spat through gritted teeth before footsteps started to draw ever closer.

She needed to move, and she had to do it fast.

There was no time for mistakes, no time for false movements as one wrong step could see her life splattered against the cold floor just like Mr John Doe. She had to escape but there was nowhere to run. There were rows and rows of parked cars against the sidewalk, locked doors of closed businesses and run down apartment blocks but there was no immediate obvious retreat. Y/N had to be smart about this, had to think outside of the box and as she ran, her feet silent as her body trembled, her heart pounding in her ears, she turned down another alleyway. This was the only place she could go to get cover, because at the end, there was a blue metal door that would lead into an old publishing company. She had worked there when she was first getting into journalism, and if her memory served her well, she could gain entry without actually having a key.

With laboured breaths, and a million glances over her shoulder, she shakily pulled out her mobile before dialling emergency services. With one hand, she held the phone in place as she came face to face with her only chance. Her fingers shook as they wrapped around the small handle, but with all of her might, she counted on her subconscious and performed the small trick she knew she had stored away in memory. She lifted it up, while pulling back at the same time and when she heard the sound of the lock uncatching, Y/N had never felt so relieved in her entire life. Without a second thought, she rushed inside and pulled the door with her, ensuring it was locked securely and hoping that whoever those guys were, they wouldn’t know how to enter this building.

She rested against the cold stone wall behind her, wide eyes focusing on the shadow covered metal as she desperately listened out for any signs of company. For a brief second, she thought she was safe. However, when the echoes of precise footsteps began to become muffled through the walls, she knew that those killers were just on the other side of this barrier.

“911, what’s your emergency?” She heard the female dispatcher down the line, causing the journalist to jump in her spot, and to snap out of her trance-like state.

“I-I…” Y/N started, her voice low and timid so as to not draw any attention to herself.

“Here piggy, piggy, piggy!” The taunt was chilling, the man responsible for it scraping some item against the wall outside. Judging by the sound, she could only guess that he was using his weapon.

“Ma’am? Is everything alright?” The dispatcher asked, causing her to refocus on her phone.

“P-please h-help,” she whispered, her body starting to slide down the wall as her gaze became trained on the handle of the blue door. She hoped he wouldn’t hear her, that she had found sanctuary.

“Did your parents not teach you that it’s rude to listen in on other people’s conversations?” The killer questioned, a small and sadistic chuckle leaving him as he kicked the litter that had gathered outside.

Y/N’s mind was unable to process that she had to find somewhere more safe than this, that one wrong move from her could indicate to the killers that she was just within reach.

“Stay on the line, I’m tracking your location through your call,” the woman on the phone stated calmly. “I’ve dispatched two patrol cars to your area, they’ll be there soon okay?”

“M-mhm,” was all the journalist could muster, her grip tight on the phone next to her ear, as her other fingers dug deep into the palm of her hand.

“The longer this takes, the more angry I become and you wouldn’t want to see my true temper, right!?” The man shouted, before a loud and metallic bang echoed down the alleyway outside. It sounded like he had kicked over a metal bin or moved a large dumpster but either way, it caused Y/N to jump significantly in her spot, a small squeak leaving her.

“Not long, they’re about a minute out,” the dispatcher reassured, but the journalist knew that those next sixty seconds would be the longest of her life. It was such a short window of time where anything could happen; fear had well and truly taken a grip of her heart.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!” The killer taunted, his cruel singing sounding like a twisted lullaby as the stones on the floor crunched under each of his calculated footsteps.

It was then that she prayed to whatever or whoever could be listening that she was going to make it out of this alive. Her ears desperate to hear the sounds of sirens, the alarms of safety that would coax her into believing that just maybe she was going to be okay. Yet she could only make out the beats of her heart that thudded against her ribs like a drum.

As she stayed rooted deep within her panic, her whole body jolted as a loud bang of metal echoed throughout the abandoned and littered hallway she was residing in. It took her a moment or two to realise what was happening, but then it became evidently clear. The killer knew where she was, and he had begun forcing his way in. Her time was running out, and she had to either choose to move or face the oncoming threat. But where would she go? There was nothing to hide behind, and knowing there was also a second accomplice that was most likely positioned at the only other exit, she was trapped.

Before she even had the chance to choose, the door was ripped open and in those few miniscule seconds, Y/N was convinced that it was her end. Time slowed as her eyes focused on the tall, dark shadow that loomed in the now open frame of the building, and her breath got caught in her chest. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t scream, she couldn’t run. Like a deer in the headlights, she was frozen to the spot with fear.

She had never imagined her death, being a woman that much preferred to live in the moment and focus on the present, but now faced with this imminent threat, she wished it was different. Wanting to pass peacefully in her sleep, having lived a good life. Not suffering at the hands of another, painfully wheezing for life as a bullet became lodged in her chest. Not hoping that her killer would be merciful and choose to aim for her head instead.

The shadow moved quickly and finally her body allowed her to react. Her hands covered her face as she cowered away from the intruder, her sobs bleeding from her lips as she silently pleaded to see another morning. Not like this, please not like this.

“Hey, hey. You’re safe, you’re alright.”A deep voice reassured her, and braving a look between her fingers, she watched how this stranger crouching down to be at her height before he quickly showed her his police badge, proving to Y/N that he was no-one to be in fear of.

It was then that she took a second to take in her new company; he was tall, dressed in a shirt, a tie and a long black coat that stopped mid thigh. His hair was dark in color - in the shadows she could only assume that maybe it was a chestnut brown - and it stopped just below his jawline. He looked nothing like the killers she had seen down the alleyway, and it was upon that realisation that a mixture of relief and morbid understanding washed over her.

“No!” she panicked, shaking her head from side to side. That small offering of reassurance from him wasn’t enough. “ No they murdered somebody! I saw it! They were hunting me down!” she exclaimed. “How is any of that alright?!”

“Because we’re going to protect you,” he offered, his tone warm and comforting as he gave a small, sincere smile. “What is your name?”

“Y-Y/N,” she stammered, her heart still beating erratically as she stared into the kaleidoscopic eyes of the officer in front of her. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

Upon hearing that information, his smile widened a little and he offered out his hand for her to take as he slowly began to stand. “Y/N, my name is Sam Winchester and I'm a Detective Sergeant. With your permission, we’re going to head back to the station.”

“What if they see me?” the journalist flustered, slowly pushing her phone back into her pocket. “What if they’re still out there!?”

“We have a car that is reversing into the alley, and here-” Sam shrugged off his coat quickly and handed the item over to her. “Use this to cover your head until we get there.”

Y/N took it, cautiously but grateful all the same. Now her heart rate had slowed, and the adrenaline from the situation was starting to dip, she realised that she was still barefoot and dressed in a strangers shirt. She wanted out of those clothes, and into a very hot shower to wash away everything from that evening. “I just want to go home.”

“Let’s get you checked over first, then I’ll need a statement. But after that, I’ll take you home,” he told her softly and with that promise, she took his hand and began to push herself up off of the floor. Once standing, she wrapped his clothing around her shoulders, grateful for the warmth and in preparation to use it to conceal her identity.

With a nod, she told Detective Winchester that she was ready to move into the car, when another officer came rushing in from the outside. “Sir.”

Sam quickly looked to his side, his brow furrowing when he noticed the stark expression on his colleagues face. When his eyebrows met in the middle, he gestured towards Y/N with one finger, before he moved to stand next to the young man that had come bustling in, bowing his head to lend an ear as he listened to whatever new information had been found.

Of course, all the scared journalist could do was watch the situation unfold in front of her. Her gaze trained on each facial tick the detective gave as the panic that was still so evident in her chest began to resurface. Something was wrong, and she knew it.

“Shit,” Sam pushed out, pinching the bridge of his nose, risking a quick glance back at her before his focus was back on the younger officer. “You sure?”

His company nodded quickly before the detective grimaced and placed his hands on his hips. Y/N wasn’t stupid, she knew something was amiss here, and that the whole situation was a lot bigger than she had originally thought. Considering her occupation, she was well aware of most of the crimes that went on in this city, and if she was honest, she was already looking forward to writing a scoop on this one when her nerves had calmed. But with the way Sam was looking at her; concerned, perplexed, troubled - she knew that she had landed herself deep in the middle of some serious shit.

“What? What’s going on?” She pressed, taking a tentative step forward as she watched the younger officer exit the worn down old publishing building and step into the street.

“Y/N, I need to get you to safety immediately,” Sam instructed, his tone serious and firm as his hand came to wrap around the top of her arm. His touch was gentle however, even when he started to force the coat over her head for her own privacy. “As soon as we’re at the station, I’ll explain everything.”

——————————————– Chapter Three ——————————————– A/N: Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnnnn. Thanks for reading! Tag list is open! If you want to be step into the darkness with me, then let me know HERE :)

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