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thelittleangel · 1 month

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Cowboys are frequently (secretly) fond of each other.

Tags: Dean Winchester x Cowboy! Reader, fluff, flirting, male reader, soft romance.

Warnings: possibly OOC, no use of Y/N, implied violence toward an animal, references to “taking someone home” (I’ll let you interpret that how you want.), romantic-ish interactions between dean and reader toward the end.

Taglist: @agroovygoose @pumpkinhead666

Walking into the bar, I see heads raise. I try not to pay them any mind. I know what kind of impression I give off. I’m tall, shaggy hair that barely kisses my shoulders, dressed like I just wandered off the set of a Clint Eastwood movie.

I know what kind of expectations I'm supposed to fulfill. People look at me and they see a cowboy. A man’s man. A straight man.

I shake my head, trying to rid myself of that entire train of thought. My dad taught me that if this was the way I was going to live my life, I needed to stop worrying about what others thought of me. I walk over to the bar and order a beer. The bartender hands me a frosty bottle. I put my ring under the cap, tilt the bottle and push. The cap pops off and I take a swig. I put my beer on the bar, wrapping my hands around it like it’s a mug of hot coffee. I look around the bar, watching the people.

It’s a habit I picked up. Me and my dad would go to a bar, and he’d order me a Coke and point out all the small details that a quick glance couldn’t catch.

The woman at the bar had just been divorced, the tan line on her ring finger. The couple in the booth are cheating on each other, seen by the way they sit. The man at his table is waiting for his friend, he’s fallen madly in love with him.

I smile for a moment. It’s been a few years, but I'm out. My dad didn’t like that I wanted to leave, but he’d understood. I got an honest job working at a ranch. The hours were long, and the work was hard, but I felt like it was a job I could be proud of.

The doorbell rang and a gust of summer air blew into the bar. I look over at the door. In walks the most stunning man I've ever seen.

He was dressed in a suit, with brown hair that almost looked like gold in this light. Eyes that may have been green, but I couldn't tell from this far away. Freckles and stubble decorated his face in a way that complemented each other.

I clear my throat and look away. A man in a bar like this dressed like that was here for a girl. But, no. His posture suggested he was here on business.

I turn back to my beer. I didn't need to find a man to glance at for the rest of the night. I look down at my drink, trying to clear my head. I sit like that for a moment, savoring my beer. Someone settles into the seat beside me. I look over, and he’s smiling back at me.

My face burns hot, and I hope that the lights are dim enough that he can’t see me. I turn back to my beer. I hear him order a drink, his voice strong and deep. He turns back to me, beer in hand.

“You’re ____, right?” Dear god, how does he know my name?

“Special Agent Hammett, FBI.” oh. That explains it.

“Yeah, I am. Why do you ask?”

“We’re investigating the cattle deaths that are happening at your ranch and we wanted to know if you’ve seen anything strange.”

“Strange?”

“Cold spots, weird smells, crop failures…”

“No, just the cows.”

“And what would you say happened?”

“I just… went into work one day and there was a bull ripped to shreds.”

He nods. “Could I see it?”

The next day, I was showing Agent Hammet onto the ranch. The way the sun hit his eyes was one of the most beautiful things I've seen. Like seeing the way the light hits the trees for the first time. I look away. I need to focus on why we’re here.

I led him toward the barn. Inside a cooler, the bull’s body was resting. The agent pulled on some gloves and started looking through the body. I look away from the corpse and try to suppress the urge to vomit.

Eventually, he pulls out a small tooth. Small and pointed, it was very scary looking. “It looks like a fang…” He turns to me. “Is there anything that lives around here that might leave something like this?”

I shake my head. “No, not that I know of.” He puts the tooth into a tiny bag and pockets it.

He looks up at me, and he must see the sick look on my face, because he stands up and says, “Let me buy you a drink.” We both climbed into his car, a nice-looking thing.

“I can’t believe the FBI lets you drive this car around.” He just smiles, still looking at the road. “They do.”

I shake my head, a goofy grin stretched onto my face. “I don’t know, seems a little conspicuous.”

“You’d be surprised.” I looked over at him. His smile is gone, looking at the road lost in the thought. When I look at him, I just want to reach over and-

I look out at the road. I can’t entertain that thought. I refuse to. I glance over and I find him looking at me. He turns his eyes back to the road.

Eventually, we found our way back to the bar. Walking inside, it was deserted. We chose the same seats we picked last time. Ordered the same drinks. We settled in, sitting in silence for the longest time. It's not uncomfortable, just quiet.��

He watches me. I can feel his eyes in all of their silent intensity. I want to look back at him, but I know if I do, he’ll break his gaze. “So, what do you make of this, cowboy?” I laugh to myself. “What?”

I finally look back at him. “The last person who called me cowboy, I ended up taking home with me.”

He gives me a soft smile. “Who says I wouldn't want to go home with you?”

I look away, my eyes wide. My face is a bright burning red. He throws his head back and laughs. I put my face in my hands, trying to make my face normal again. He places a hand on my back, and I startle. I groan to myself. Jesus Christ, this man is making me act like a teenage girl.

I look over at him and he’s still watching me. We fall into another silence, this one not uncomfortable like the last. Peaceful, like the answer to everything was in each other’s eyes. He reaches over and tucks a few stray hairs behind my ears. My breathing began to slow, my heartbeat decreasing.

I slowly place my hand on his face. A few of my fingers gently touched his jaw. I watch his eyes dart around my face, maybe doing the same thing I did last night. Searching for micro expressions, any type of indicator that this was too good to be true. I realized something.

I pull my hand away from his face. “Are you...?”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Am I what?”

“Are you a hunter?”

His eyes widened for a moment. His chest begins to go up and down a little bit more. He was breathing heavily. I’d caught him.

“How do you know what hunters are?”

I look up and watch as my father enters the bar.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

#Dean Winchester x male reader #Dean Winchester x reader #supernatural #male reader #cowboy reader #dean winchester

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deanoheartspie · 8 months

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Sunshine 5

Pairing: Cowboy Sheriff Dean x City Gal Reader

Summary: After your family cut you off, your great-aunt Laura invited you over to her ranch you often visited when you were just a child... You drive through the beautiful town until you accidentally graze a horse that just so happens to be the sheriffs...

Warnings: None

A/N: I've gotten some feedback on my writing! So this is my first attempt at trying to make it better and make it make sense for all! I really do appreciate suggestions with writing/about the book, also love hearing what you have to say about the characters.

(MIGHT REWRITE!! Depending on how I feel about it)

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Y/N POV

The beautiful grassy fields, full of bright colorful flowers, and the clouds in the most beautiful blue sky ever seen. It was like it was picture-perfect almost too good to be true. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't you'd never know for sure.

Most of all though... Dean. He was a good man, you could tell by just the way he carried himself or the way he cared about others.

You've never laughed as hard or had genuine conversations as you had this afternoon with no other than the gruff cowboy. Family members never really cared or even tried to seem interested in what you had to say but when they did they were only interested in how it'd affect their precious images.

After he left though, grumbling about having to chase some dog again earning a laugh from you and a simple 'good luck' he ran off after walking me back. True gentleman I must say.

“Hey, Laura do you need help with anything?” You tiredly ask desperately wanting to drown yourself in a nice hot shower.

The older woman looks up from her knitting and smiles as she shakes her head “No thank you sweetheart, how did today go? Did he go easy on ya?” She asked as she went back to what she was doing glancing up at you a few times.

Easy? Maybe he did? He didn't seem as bossy as he usually was had they talked to him?

“You could say that... He did teach me a lot. I appreciate you guys letting me stay here” You thank them probably for the one-hundredth time this week.

“That's good. He's very good at what he does, and quit thankin' us we are family and family helps one another. Now shoo! Go relax, you are probably exhausted its getting way too hot out there”

You smile and nod, giving her a quick hug before running up to the room.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Drying off your hair, tossing a tank top, and your favorite soft pajama pants that most definitely would get ruined here if something were to happen.

The creaking wood floors, announce you to everyone downstairs causing Dean and a little girl to look at you... Smiling at them you wave.

“Who's this little one?” You ask but can see the resemblance between the two, was this who Lina Linda Lisa was? Whatever her name was talking about that day on the sidewalk?

“My daughter” His usual gruff and annoyed voice was non-existent. He sounded happier.

The big ole green-eyed little girl had the biggest smile on her face as she leaned back and forth on her plastic princess heels. She was practically a carbon copy of Dean, but as a young girl and boy was she adorable.

“Hello! I'm Rory” She stuck her tiny hand out, You gently shook her hand the same smile stuck on your face.

“Nice to meet you, Rory! I'm Y/n”

Rory quietly thought for a moment, it felt like a mini interview, and god that made you anxious.

“Do you like ponies?” she asked squinting her eyes, acting as if she was asking the most important question ever.

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head while he had a small smile of amusement wondering how this would go.

“Hm, are they magical ponies or normal ones?”

She tapped her chin, before reaching up to her father who knew the look she gave him probably way too well because right away he handed her a unicorn stuffed animal. “Obviously the ones that can fly!” Aurora said in a duh tone, pointing up at you, you look around curious as to what/why she was exactly pointing for.

“Aurora what did I say about pointing? It's rude.” Dean's voice echoed from the hallway, he was on his way into the kitchen.

“I like her, you date her?” She said, causing Dean to spit out his coffee and start coughing his lungs out. Your eyes widen in surprise, who would've thought a simple question about magical freakin' horses would lead to this?

“You can't keep doin' that, sweet pea. She's my friend, and that's all.” He explained, cleaning up his mess while the little girl nodded before shrugging.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The rest of the night went well, You and Rory played for a bit while Dean cooked. Giving him credit where it's due, he's a pretty damn good cook if you must say yourself. Though half the things he does make will mostly take 30 years off your life. That donut burger was worth it though...

Bedtime came around, and Aurora fell asleep in your arms safe and sound. Following Dean up to his room after he offered plenty of times to take Rory off of your shoulders after you refused not wanting to wake the young lady.

What you hadn't noticed before when you had woken the man up this morning was the little princess bed on the other end of the bedroom full of toys and stuffed animals.

“Sorry,” He whispered pushing everything off to the side neatly, grabbing a big t-shirt and gently putting it on Rory, before taking her from your arms and tucking her in.

Oddly enough this felt normal. Though it probably shouldn't have. Friends, friends are what we are and that's it.

“Good night Dean.” You say halfway out the bedroom door when he says something that caught you off guard.

“Will you have a drink with me?” He asked standing up straight and walking towards you with a tiny smile.

A drink with Dean? That actually sounds kinda nice.

“Sure. Though I'm surprised you still haven't learned your lesson from last night's drunken mess” You tease, flashing off your pearly whites as he rolls his eyes guiding you downstairs out to the front porch.

He hands me a nice cold beer before plopping himself down onto the front porch stairs, looking up at the starry night sky. Even at night, this place was beautiful.

“So, you never told me why you're here in the first place Darlin',” He said breaking the silence, putting his full attention onto you.

“Runaway bride.” You say shortly, with a tiny shrug before taking a sip of the liquid. Dean's were wide before he broke into a fit of laughter, shaking his head

“No really why are you here?” He asked again calming himself down, the smile still on his face and his face all red from the laughing.

“Runaway bride.” You say slower this time, in all seriousness. The smile was quick to leave his face and his eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his face.

“Your fuckin' with me right? That stuff only happens on telenovelas” Dean was leaning his head back against the railing, still in shock.

“Nope.”

“Y/n why do you sound so calm about this? What'd he do to have you run off to the middle of nowhere and pick up horse shit for the rest of your life” Dean asked, running his fingers through his hair before finishing off his beer.

“It was set up, arranged marriage. Didn't want to go through with it so I left plain and simple.” You get up stretching your arms grabbing the small blanket from the swinging couch, wrapping it around yourself.

“You shock me every day. I won't have some crazy man comin' here demanding you right? I ain't gonna get in a fight for you sweetheart pretty and all but I have a kid and I'm already on thin ice.” He seriously says while never once looking away from you.

“I don't expect you to get in a fight for me and no, there should be no man coming here to fight you” You roll your eyes, men were stupid sad thing was you did want someone to love, and protect you. But then again that only happened in fairytales, this was fair from one.

“Glad we are on the same page. But as the sheriff, I'd have to help ya out so just gimmie a call”

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----Tag list----

@deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @mrsjenniferwinchester @ladysparkles78 @hobby27 @khaleesihavilliard @foxyjwls007 @lucidlivi @jc-winchester @globetrotter28 @beskarfilms @the141bandicoot @alysinwonderland-at-tea @randomgurl2326 @ambergoddess444 @westernwinchesters @lemmons1998 @julie040904 @nic-kolas @raisinggray @alternativeprincess

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #supernatural #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester series #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x y/n #cowboy dean #supernatural dean #cowboy dean winchester #dean x you #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #cowboy! dean

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aj-kody · 24 days

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Cowboy negan x reader

#moodboard #negan smith #aesthetic #negan x reader #x reader #cowboy #jeffrey dean morgan

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harmonity-vibes · 6 months

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Imagine

Dean / Beau : My heart is yours, wherever you go, it will follow you. No matter the distance, I'll always be with you.

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julesthequirky · 11 months

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Jensen and Characters

Theirs: Series: Back in Helena, the reader captures the attention of two Alphas, Beau and Dean (not Winchester).

The Choice: Series: Three of your favourite characters turn up in your home, and as you get close, you have a decision to make. Who are you sending?

Healing Her: Series: DV survivor moves to Montana to make a fresh start and gains attraction from the Sheriff, Beau Arlen.

Chapter One

Beautiful Trauma: Mini-Series; The reader finds out that after nearly forty years, Ben is alive. (Ben x Reader)

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four

Brat: Series: In order to adjust her behaviour and attitude, Y/N is sent to John’s and whilst she’s there, John’s sons, Sam and Dean take a liking to her.

Falling For The Sheriff: Part of the Creedence Creek Cowboys Trilogy Series; Reader's car breaks down outside of a small southern town and who else comes to her rescue? None other than Sheriff Dean Winchester.

Broken and Unfixable: Drabble; Dean hits the reader with some hard “truths”.

All Out of Options: Drabble; Reader resorts to a last option. (Dean x Reader)

Under The Mistletoe: Drabble; There’s mistletoe. And Dean (Dean x Reader)

Toy Soldier: Ficlet; The reader finds Michael in her apartment.

Classroom Humiliation: Oneshot; Reader gets humiliated in class. (Jensen x Reader)

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princessmisery666 · 1 year

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Part-time Soulmate

Summary: The lure is stronger than the certainty of heartbreak.

Warnings/Genres etc.: Angst.

W/C:500

Pairing: Dean Winchester x unnamed female.

Prompt: @justagirlinafandomworld 's Unclaimed Love Songs - Cowboys & Angels by Dustin Lynch

A/N: Lots of other songs helped the muses with this one but mainly Hold Me Like a Grudge by Fall Out Boy.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch

Master Lists: Main // Dean Winchester

The world was spinning faster and faster, and Dean couldn’t keep up. He painted on an ear-to-ear smile and tried not to blink. He felt nothing and everything. He didn’t want to think, not tonight. Instead, he drove, pedal to the metal, reveling in Baby’s growling engine and waiting for the night to turn off his mind. Passing cars and crowded bars, but not stopping until he pulled up at her door.

Dean had vices, hard liquor, easy women, and a loud throaty engine. But he’d never been an addict. Not until he met her. She made going back to her as easy as breathing. But that was the thing, he needed to breathe, and she was his own brand of oxygen. He’d had a taste, let her in, and she’d consumed him. He struggled to find the high with anyone else. Like the nicotine in a cigarette, she ran through his veins, and he wanted to overdose.

It was late. Too late to be showing up without calling first, but she answered his knock with sleepy eyes and messy hair. She didn’t say his name or ask if he were okay, only widened the door, inviting him in.

He crossed the threshold, slipping his arms around her waist, burying his head in her neck, drowning in her warmth. Her hand stroked the back of his head, nails gently scraping through the coarse hairs at the base of his neck. Each sweep a silent vow; ‘I’m here. It’s okay. I’ll help you breathe. I’ll make you believe it’s all a dream.’

Tender kisses placed on his throat from sweet lips dissolved the ache of sore, stiff muscles from the long, breakless drive like sugar in water.

He felt like he’d been on the run his whole life, never wanting commitment, but she caught him by surprise, and before he knew it, he’d lost himself to her. Assuming he’d be alone forever, but damn if she hadn’t made him think he was wrong. It was that kind of adrenaline he couldn’t leave behind.

Her touch always said more than words ever could. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, under his jacket, and pushed it down his arms. ‘Stay a while.’

Pulling back to look into her eyes, he answered with a pleading request, “Turn down the noise.” But what he meant was ‘make me forget’.

“I got you, baby,” she promised.

It was more than her body that turned him on, and to be in her arms was enough. But like any high, it was more than wanting her for a night. He wanted her forever. She was a light, and he wanted to be her shadow.

Unfortunately, he knew better. She was sweet, he was wild, and together they were dangerous, so for that reason, he wouldn’t let the secret out - wouldn’t surrender his heart. Tonight he’d exist in the luminous serenity she enveloped him in and pretend he could live there.

Pretend she wasn’t a part-time soulmate and a full-time problem.

Part 2 - Love-Blind Haze

Tag Info - or follow my library blog and turn on notifications. @princessmisery666-library for my fics only.

Super Supernatural: @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole

Driving Baby, Whiskey & Leather: @deandreamernp / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @lyarr24

#Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x female reader #supernatural fanfic #song fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester #spn #angst #dean winchester angst #cowboys and angels #dustin lynch #music fic #unclaimed love songs

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povcastiel · 10 months

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ROAD TO REDEMPTION

[ Well, well, well… I’ve been sitting on this for so long, I caved and decided to allow you all into my mind. My first official series! Giddy up ya’ll, it’s time for outlaw Dean Winchester! As always, please, please let me know what you think and if you wish to be tagged on future postings. Series Main Post Here ]

Synopsis | It’s been five years without him. You’ve moved on, made a new life for yourself. But no one can really outrun the past, right?

Tags | Supernatural Western!AU, Cowboy!Dean, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Winchester Brothers, Outlaws, BrothelWorker!Reader, Female!Reader, Priest!Castiel, Dean x Reader

Warnings | Eluding to violence, Minor sexual context, Angst, Loathing, Mentions of blood/harm, Mentions of religion

Word Count | 3k~

Rating | R, MDNI

Barren land stretched on for miles, out in the open with only the stars and moon to spy upon you. A raging fire warmed your cheeks, now a rosy shade and possibly darker if he was to continue looking at you in that way. He stoked the flames a while longer, as they licked higher and higher into the air, until eventually settling. A crackle and pop were the only sounds that passed in the silence between you. Dean rose to his feet. His frame towering and broad. You proceeded to pull the quilt, around your shoulders, more tightly to your hunched form. He tended to the horse in the meantime.

“We’ll have to move by first light.” He informed you, his voice distant but soft.

The hair that was once tucked behind your ear had fallen down against the side of your face. Thick and long, cascading down your back.

“I know…” You murmured, clearly lost within your own thoughts. Your eyes drifted down to the torn, tattered fabric of your lace trimmed dress. Leather boots just as worn to accompany.

Suddenly, he was kneeling in front of you. His hat was left hanging on his satchel. The glow of the fire illuminated his features, delicate for someone so burly and gruff. His face covered in a shadow of stubble, hair long and pushed back. A white undershirt clung to his chest, jeans covered in dirt, barely even a shade of blue. He reached for your hand, wrapped snug in a torn piece of your cotton gown. The blood had soaked through and worry seemed to stretch across his brow when he looked it over.

“It’s okay.” You attempted to reassure him, but your tone wasn’t as convincing as you’d hoped. He dismissed it and went on to unwrap the makeshift bandage.

“How bad does it hurt?” He asked, green eyes raging with concern. His soft fingertips ghosted over your wrist, a contrast to how rough they appeared. His hands alone could tell stories of what he’d endured, the life he’s lived.

“Not bad.” You shrugged, as the blanket fell off one of your shoulders. That was a lie. The cut was deep, and had been throbbing the entire journey.

He reached for his canteen of water and laid it in your lap. Encouraging you to hydrate, while he pulled out a familiar silver flask. The cap spun with a metal swirl and before he could chug down what was left, you opted for the alcohol over water. Dean was easily caught off guard, watching the liquid flowing into your mouth. You gulped and bared the sting with tight closed lips, before using the back of your hand to wipe your mouth.

“Easy, darlin’…” He snickered, taking a swig. “Drink some water. You’ll need it.” He insisted, motioning to the jug.

“Are you implying I’m weak?” You quipped with a raised brow.

“I ain’t saying anything, but you tend to find yourself in a lot of trouble.” He chuckled, low in his chest. White teeth gleaming. Such a charmer he was.

…

The thunder crashed on. Rain steady against the roof. Dry ground had now turned to mush. Clear Tusk had been swallowed by the night and just as usual, you had a job to do. Although, given your sympathy, your client duties had been temporarily put on hold. Specifically to aid a young girl. Fresh blood, with a look of naivety. Easy prey.

At least that’s how the men would see it.

It had been her first night. Her acquaintance hadn’t been so friendly. Needless to say, she was reduced to a puddle of emotions. Crying and loathing in self pity. You were one to give her a pass. A simple understanding, as you’d seen yourself in her. There was a time too, in which you had to find your own footing. You just didn’t particularly have this line of work in mind.

Her red strands of hair were now wet streaks against her freckled face. Pursed lips, on the verge of quivering again. She settled her tears on the way to the church. You trudged through mud, stomping it off on the wooden porch and led her in through the front. The door heavily slammed behind you, which left her jumping with fright. You wrapped an arm around her frail form, soothing her fears as your boots clanked and creaked against rotting, old floor boards. Somehow, this place was holding together.

You knew well that Cas, the town’s only priest, would call it ‘the Grace of God.’

Whether you believed that yourself, was another story.

Candles were lit along each pew. The sound of rain was consistent against poorly sealed windows. Which would explain the tin buckets collecting water. Castiel appeared. He must have heard the door. His figure came into view from the other side of the vast, yet cramped, room. He was clutching a bible, his index and middle fingers tucked between the thin pages to keep his place. His black suit blended against the dark tone of the room, his white collar the only means for him to stand out.

He addressed you by name. Familiar and gentle. Despite your lack of religion, Cas brought an inexplicable aura of peace and calmness. You felt safe here and you knew that Merrien would too.

She sniffled and extended a hand to him. He immediately tore his blue orbs off of you and greeted her with a new found warmth. He smiled, tenderly. “Hello. You two seem to be comin’ from something troubling?” He looked between the two of you. His voice full of gravel.

You spoke for her, “She just needs somewhere safe to rest for the night. I thought here would be best.” You clarified the situation, preferring not to go into detail.

Castiel nodded, briefly pausing, but he was quick to regain himself. “Well, right this way.” He extended his arm for guidance. Merrien was reluctant, but she walked ahead of him and toward his study.

Before you could see yourself out, he was turning back and coming toward you. Your hands still clutching the skirt of your dress. You noticed his wandering gaze then, once you had faced him. Surely he noticed the tucked fabric, pinned to your hip and revealing a set of stockings, your bare skin visible, beneath your gown. It was certainly more erotic than he was used to.

The preacher cleared his throat. “You know I’m good for the help, but I really wish you wouldn’t subject yourself to this madness.” He mumbled. Now he sounded like a figure of authority. The treatment you had been desperate to escape from. The prison your father had created.

You averted your gaze, all but scoffing. “I’m serious. You take in a new victim n’ some dirt bag roughs her up.”

“We are not victims!” You hissed, disliking in how he seemed to put the blame on you. As if you led the poor girl into a trap.

“No, but you’ve chosen a life that invites evil. Ever since those Winchester’s rode off you’ve-“ You cut him off. “I’m not here to be guilted to kneel at your altar and confess my sins.” Your tone was biting. “Goodnight, Father.” You turned sharp on your heels and hurriedly made your exit.

…

The man did his best to tend to your wound, ensuring it wouldn’t become infected. You were thankful for his attentiveness. If you were honest, this was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him.

He used a clean cloth, his bandana rather, to wrap your hand again and secured it with a side knot. After his doctoring, you’d found yourself migrated to the hard ground, using all the blankets he possessed to keep warm. You used his arm for a pillow, while he opted for his jacket, bunched up and rolled to support him.

Somewhere in between the burning heat of flames, your skin, and your feelings—an overwhelming urge washed over you. His leg tucked between your own, half on his side as he hovered above you. His mouth eagerly tasted you in a bruising kiss. It took all the breath from your lungs, for a moment you forgot to breathe entirely. A heavy exhale blew from your nostrils, while your fingers tangled into his chestnut strands. He barely had to touch the sleeve of your dress, before it was hanging off your shoulder. Revealing more of your lithe, warm skin. He kissed you there. His wet lips leaving a trail. First your collar bone. Next, your throat. A soft sigh emits from you and he’s pleased to hear it.

There’s a moment you look at each other. Chests heaving with anticipation. And it’s then that you taste the sweetness of your self autonomy. The choice to be his. The possibility to make a life outside of judgement and fear. Dean’s known this kind of emancipation since his father’s death, even before then. Constantly running. Town to town. Despite the erratic uncertainty, you were envious. And yet, somehow, this man was willing to risk all of it to give you a piece of liberation.

Youthful lust grows heavy. You’re fumbling with his belt, as his hands roughly hike your dress up your legs. You’ve never wanted him more and you’re surprised by your sudden desire, especially after the day’s events.

Then again, it seemed unlikely there’d ever be a moment when you wouldn’t want Him.

…

The anger in the pit of your stomach was bubbling to the surface, rising in your throat, the entire walk back to the brothel. You didn’t even bother to use your shawl, the garment hanging low below your waist and loosely holding at your arms.

You weren’t sure if hearing his name or the insinuation of bad intent had triggered you. Either way, you had your fill for the evening.

Despite your foul mood, the atmosphere remained the same. Music filtered through the bar and up the stairs. Every round table was occupied. The bartender satisfied his customers from a range of stacked liquor, on shelves that nearly looked ready to cave. The room was packed, giving no one a choice but to sweat. Once you entered, their eyes were roaming. A rowdy crowd of cowboys, the town sheriff and his men, along with a few townsfolk. They were all well-known faces. Every last one, a strong reminder of how much you wished to leave.

You climbed the staircase, with limited space from clients nearly over the railing with their public affection. The smell of liquor and cigars lingered, a hard smell to filter. Especially out of your clothes. It was something you’d grown accustomed to.

Your door was left ajar. Pushing it wide open, you disregarded the man inside. You sat behind your vanity and proceeded to pull the pins from your hair, unleashing your mess of hair. Arthur rose from your bed, creaking in its wake. He took a swig from the bottle in his hand.

“I’m not in the mood.” You informed him. You hadn't even bothered to look at him.

He was a routine customer, though you wished he wouldn’t come at all.

Your hands were busy rolling your stockings down, when sat his sweating bottle onto your table. He leaned behind your chair, his fist gathering your hair and forcing you upright. Your reflection met his own in the rounded mirror. Your jaw tightened. It was all just a delightful game for him.

“What do I pay ya for, sweetheart?” He gruffed against your ear. His beard scratching your skin.

You grimaced at his hot breath.

“You’ll do well to know your place.”

“And you’ll do well to call it a night.” You turned toward him. If it hadn’t been your father, you weren’t sure you’d have the confidence to tell off a man half your size. His grip painfully pulled at your scalp. Your nose brushed his, and you weren’t quite sure how his mood would shift. His lips smashed against yours. Sloppy and warm.

Eventually, he released you. Not without force, as your hands gripped the front of your vanity to steady yourself. The small legs skidding against the floor. You exhaled, mainly due to your irritation, as his boots heavily shuffled toward the door. Eventually, his movements were drowned out by the people beyond your room and you rose quickly to slam and latch the door shut. Your hands laid flat against the surface of the wood, head hung low.

There was the unmistakable sensation of emotions welling in your chest. Brutal memories flooding back to torture you and you refused to drown. Not again.

Not after five long years of letting him go.

You’d keep swimming, like always. Just as you had, right after your mother’s sudden death. An event that transformed your father into an unrecognizable monster. Possessed by the all consuming tainted liquid. It replaced his wife, soon it even replaced his own daughter.

Shaky fingers worked on undressing yourself. Layer by layer, lace by lace to undo your corset. The four walls that barricaded you from the outside, were a modest display of your dwelling. A wooden nightstand, lopsided by a shortened leg. On top rested a single candle and your father’s old pocket watch. Your vanity was turned diagonal against the corner and facing toward your bed, a wash basin directly beside that. A trunk and dresser to fit most of the things you owned combined.

There was a part of you that was deemed to feel ashamed of your circumstances. A string of poor choices to lead you here. One starting with your relationship to Dean Winchester.

You’d begin to wonder if he was even alive. Maybe all those bad deeds had caught up with him. ‘May God rest his soul,’ Castiel had always put it, when expressing his worry about the outlaw brothers. Sam, specifically, was always viewed as less threatening than his older sibling. Your truth, on the other hand, was something far different than what the town had depicted.

Their faces covered every post and front door through town. It amused you to think that the posters held any sort of value, in terms of gaining information. It was unlikely they’d show their faces again. So many years had passed, but you were aware that the sheriff had a grudge to hold. You were guilty of the same effect—the inability to move on. The inexhaustible attempts of letting time heal those open wounds. Regardless, Dean was a kind of love that burned until it scarred. And even if by some miracle he came striding back into town, dapper as ever and sweeping you off your feet. It was far too late.

If you hadn’t been able to forgive him after all these years, it was unlikely that day of reckoning would come.

…

The brim of his hat covered his eyes, resting against the bridge of his nose. His brother was concentrated, a journal against his thigh, while he scribbled down his thoughts. The scratching of his pencil was disturbing Dean, propped against the smooth edge of a rock.

“For the love of God Sam, get some rest.” He gruffed, throwing his hat down into the dirt.

“I’m almost done.” He muttered, while proceeding to write out the date at the bottom of the page. Finally, he shut the book and wound the straps around the cover to keep it closed. He stood, tucking the prized possession into his satchel. His boots shuffled against the ground. Dean, opened an eye.

He grunted, proceeded to sit up right. “Gimme that.” He motioned toward the silver flask. Sam bent down to grab the container, before handing it off to his brother.

“What’s going on?” He asked, before chugging down the whiskey. Each gulp burning more than the last. He swallowed the alcohol with ease.

Sam sat back on the blanket, the flames dancing in his eyes. A familiar expression resting on his features. Revealing to Dean that he was anxious.

“I know that look. What is it, Sammy?” He prodded again.

Sam exhaled, “I just… I don't think this is a good idea.” He disclosed.

“What? Goin’ home?” Dean responded, questioning him as if it was obviously their right to do so.

Sam shook his head, glancing out over the stretch of dry land. His eyes slowly following back to Dean.

“You know what I mean.”

“Clear Tusk is our home. We have every right to be there, just as much as those sons of bitches. It ain’t right Sam… you know it.” He ranted, clearly upset by his brother’s reluctance.

Sam accepted defeat on the matter. Despite being worried they wouldn’t have the welcoming Dean anticipated. Not to mention, the possibility of violence or even arrest. Those outcomes never phased his brother, not when he had his heart set on something.

Not that the two men had known any different. Their mother died, as a result of their father’s recklessness. Hellbent on revenge, he raised his children to be just as callous. This, in return, wasn’t enough to stop Sam or Dean from trying to escape. In fact, once Dean had met you, there was hope in the idea that he would, for once, be truly happy. Sam had never seen him so infatuated. Unfortunately, a whirlwind romance like theirs couldn’t stand on two feet. Her father refused the relationship from day one, because of their family’s reputation. Secrecy ensued, as did their demise.

Dean and you had calculated a plan to leave. To run away. The two of you would start over in another town, another place where your faces were unrecognizable.

Of course, after realizing what had transpired, your father caused a ruckus in town. The sheriff rounded his men and where you chose to rest hadn’t been quite far enough.

Aurthur, Kalvin, and Henry had ripped you from Dean in every sense of the word. The image branded into his mind, painfully. Your screams, all for him, forever haunting. The other two had subdued him with a few blows. Intent on killing him. He regretted never turning back for you. Like a coward, he ran to meet his brother.

In those long few days, you actually waited. Something Dean wasn’t aware of. Starving and locked in your room, you laid beneath your window. Listening for his arrival, his return to rescue you. Gradually, agonizingly, the days turned into weeks, turned into months.

Eventually, Dean settled his mind and folded his arms over his chest, before laying back. “Go to sleep…” He muttered to his brother.

By morning… the Winchester’s would be back.

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #castiel #spn #dean winchester #spn fanfiction #spnfandom #sam winchester #cowboy!Dean Winchester #cowboy!sam winchester #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #western!au #castiel x y/n #Dean Winchester x y/n

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xhannahbananax03 · 1 year

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Ok hear me out... Cowboy/Ranch hand Negan x Farmers Daughter

Here's some gifs to put someone in the mood to write this before I have to

#jeffery dean morgan smut #jeffery #jdmporn #negan x reader #negan smut #negan #cowboy #ranch hand #farmers daughter

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theoldwest · 9 months

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hunter’s camera roll 🌿 pt 1

images you’ve snapped while riding and hunting alongside the winchesters

(I don’t own these images:-))

#sam and dean #cowboy thoughts #dean winchester #sam winchester #winchesters x reader #spn #supernatural

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thelittleangel · 1 month

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Cowboys are frequently (secretly) fond of each other

Part 2

Tags: Dean Winchester x Cowboy! Reader, fluff, flirting, male reader, soft romance.

Warnings: possibly OOC, no use of Y/N.

Taglist: @wraith-posts @waywardseraph @agroovygoose @pumpkinhead666

He looked at me, then at my father, then back to me. I focus on my hands on the table. My father was the first to speak. “I’ve been tracking this thing for a while.” I open my mouth, choking on the lump in my throat. “What is it?”

My father looks over at me. “A vampire.” I start thinking back to all of the evidence of the last case. “But that doesn’t make sense. It was an animal that was killed, not a person.”

“Son, with all due respect, I've been on this case a lot longer than you.” I looked up at him in shock. “How long have you been in town, dad?” He looked over at me, his expression kept neutral. “How long?” I demanded. His expression turned into something more solemn. “Two weeks.”

“Two weeks? And you didn’t even try to make contact with me?”

“I knew you wouldn’t want to get involved.”

I felt my expression morph into that of anger. “You’re my dad! And you’re always moving around, so it’s not like I'm ever going to see you unless you’re passing through.”

My father’s face crumpled into a face of sorrow and irritation. His eyebrows scrunched into an expression of anger. “That wouldn’t even be a problem if you had never left the life.”

I scoff, my eyes stinging with tears. I managed to put a smile on my face. “And here I thought you supported me. Guess I was wrong.” I grab my coat and hat and leave the bar. I put my hat on my head and stepped outside, but then stopped when I realized that someone drove me here.

I put on my jacket, and the door opened behind me. “I don’t want to talk to you, dad.” but a different voice answered me. “Good thing I'm not your dad. You sound like a spitfire when you’re angry.”

I turn around and look at Dean. I study his face for any changes, but it’s mostly the same. Still the same freckles. Still the same stubble, the same eyes. God, I adore those eyes. I could never get tired of those eyes.

I study his expression yet again. He’s hurt, confused, but there’s still some affection there. “I’m so sorry.” he blinks. More confusion.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I could have told you.”

He steps closer to me, his expression going soft. “Baby, we didn’t know. It’s ok.”

I laugh.

“What?”

“I didn’t know we were using pet names this early in our relationship.”

His expression brightens considerably. “There’s a relationship?”

My face begins to copy his grin. “There could be, but I'm gonna need your name first.”

He sticks out his hand for a shake. “Dean. Winchester.”

I shake his hand and gently pull him close to me. He smiles and rests his forehead against mine. I look into those green eyes and breathe in his scent. He smells like gun smoke and leather. The love in his eyes is so pure and so intense.

“Hey. what do you say we get out of here?”

I let out a girlish giggle and take his hand. We ran back to his car and got inside.

He turns the heaters on, putting our hands in front of it. We smile at each other for a soft and warm moment.

I gently take his head into my hands. Looking at him now, those green eyes are all I see. I could see the most beautiful forests in the world, but they wouldn’t be Dean's eyes. I lean away from him and take off my hat, gently placing it on his head.

His laughs, tilting the hat. I look deeper into his eyes. His face sobers up, looking deeply into mine. He gently slides the hat off. His hands find their way to my waist. He pulls me onto his lap.

“What are we going to do about the vamps?”

My hands are on the back of his neck. “I think that’s a problem for the future Dean.”

A goofy grin slips onto my face. “What about right now Dean?”

He smiles, and the dying sunlight hits his eyes in that way that makes them glow.

He leans forward, with a smile. “I’m sure he can think of a few ideas.”

I lean with him. I place a hand on his cheek. I feel the smile drop from my face. I look into his green, green eyes for what feels like an eternity.

Our breaths begin to blend into each other, becoming another beautiful product of us. His eyes became half lidded, his expression going soft. I rest my forehead against his, closing my eyes.

“Hey.”

I open my eyes. “Yeah?”

“Are you sure you want to be a part of my life? I’m not gonna lie to you, there’s always crap going on.”

My grip on his face becomes firmer. “I want this. All of this. I want your crap, your bad days. I want your sadness and your joy too. I want to share your life with mine. I want to be a part of your life. I want you.”

“And I want all of yours.” He holds out his pinky. “I know it seems like a cliche, but…promise?”

“I can think of a better idea.”

I pull him into me, our lips crashing together.

I feel the rest of the world fall away, and all that’s left is him and I.

#dean winchester x male reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #male reader #cowboy reader #dean winchester

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deanoheartspie · 11 months

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SUN•SHINE COMING SOON!!

Pairing: Cowboy Sheriff Dean x City Gal Reader

Warnings: smut, cussing, angst.

Taglist: (Open!!)

Chapters: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

•°•°•°•°•SNEAK PEAK°•°•°•°•°•°

“You look beautiful in that dress darlin' Gimmie a little spin” Dean has a boyish grin, while he leans against the old bed frame.

Giving the cowboy a little spin, with a laugh escaping your lips as you tilt your fake imaginary cowgirl hat. “Y'know I could always give ya' a hat” He stands up, the floorboards creaking at every step he takes while he looks over at his hats deciding on a nice plain white one.

“Why the white one?” You ask, with a hint of a smile knowing he had to grow through his whole process of deciding which one to give you.

“Because after tonight darlin', your gonna be my bride”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #supernatural #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester series #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #Cowboy dean winchester #dean x oc #supernatural dean #dean x you #dean winchester masterlist #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam x reader #castiel x reader

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princessmisery666-library · 2 months

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Part-time Soulmate

Summary: The lure is stronger than the certainty of heartbreak.

Warnings/Genres etc.: Angst.

W/C: 1k. 2 parts.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x unnamed female.

READ IT NOW: Tumblr // AO3

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violentdelightsproductions · 6 months

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Cowboy! Dean Winchester x Witch! Ellie Spencer - Old West AU

In the Old West a cowboy named Dean Winchester is on the long way home when he meets an enigmatic woman that steals his heart. But the cowboy needs to be careful. There are many legends in the west about Ghost Towns and wicked desert spirits. And of course, witches.

The corner of her mouth curled and she said, "It'd be rude to turn down a chance to drink with a cowboy, now wouldn't it?

Find our Halloween videos and edits here!

#supernatural #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x female oc #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x ellie spencer #deborah ann woll #jensen ackles x deborah ann woll #halloween2022 #horror movie #supernatural au #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural oc #halloween 2023 #halloween #gifset #cowboy x witch

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months

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boo! surprise bitches! i'm doing kinktober this year! finally doing it! bet you didn't see that one coming, did you hehe 🕸

there is a good mix of both short and long stories coming your way throughout this (and i will also still occasionally post other fics this month that aren't related to this). also, a handful of these fics are darker in nature, thought it was fitting for halloween, so remember to read the warnings, if there's something that's not for you then please, as always, be kind to yourself and don't read the story.

masterlist | join my taglist

day one | sore

stepbro!sirius black x cheerleader!reader + dubcon massage

day two | don't smile

steve rogers + throat fucking + size kink

day three | stuffed

devil!eddie munson & angel!steve harrington + tentecles + double penetration in one hole

day four | a little fashion show

best friend!stiles stilinski + lingerie

day five | stay still

peter parker + bondage

day six | hold up, let me record this

jj maybank + tittyfucking + sextape

day seven | the palace guards

guards!poly!marauders x princess!reader + secrets relationship

day eight | it’s practically like we’re down there with them

mob boss!bucky barnes + exhibitionism

day nine | keep that pretty mouth shut

tommy shelby + keep quiet quickie

day ten | I couldn’t find it in me to wake you

poe dameron + somno thigh fucking

day eleven | I just want you a little longer all to myself

matt murdock + secret office sex

day twelve | nothing more than a toy

rafe cameron + using you like a toy to masturbate with

day thirteen | I still got a few rounds left in me

boxer!steve rogers + bathtub sex

day fourteen | open your fucking mouth

dark!wild west cowboy!joel miller + gun kink

day fifteen | tiny

miguel o'hara x fairy!reader + extreme size difference

day sixteen | the wall between us

cult member!steve harrington + fem glory hole + breeding

day seventeen | be a rebel, be bad, stay here and cuddle with me

spencer reid + aftercare

day eighteen | pleasant pile of pillows

brother's best friend!james potter + pillow humping

day nineteen | ring ring

sam winchester x reader x bf!dean winchester + phone sex + cheating

day twenty | window

perv!neighbour!billy russo + voyeurism

day twenty-one | say yes

fiancé!bruce wayne + possessiveness

day twenty-two | i can think of something better than that

bucky barnes + anal

day twenty-three | double check

dark!professor!ben solo + power imbalance + manipulation

day twenty-four | maroon

vampire!remus lupin + biting + blood kink

day twenty-five | i want you

pirate captain!miguel o'hara + sex as payment

day twenty-six | teamwork

pro football team!avengers (bf!steve rogers, bucky barnes, pietro maximoff, clint barton, sam wilson, tony stark, thor odinson) + gangbang

day twenty-seven | my little flower

din djarin + fantasy au + cockwarming

day twenty-eight | hysteria

doctor!aleksander morozova x hysteria patient!reader + historical au + fuck machine

day twenty-nine | can't fight the moonlight

werewolf!bucky barnes x gf!reader + predator/prey + monsterfucking

day thirty | magical mimic

eddie munson x witch!reader + magical mutual masturbation

day thirty-one | you can’t put it in

stepbro!peter parker + halloween pussyjob

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