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theweirdymcweirderson · 2 years

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Till death do us part - Dean Winchester

Author: theweirdymcweirderson

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Relationships: Dean Winchester×Reader

Word count: 1247

Warnings: Teasing, fake dating, bit of anxiety, kissing, Reader is lowkey a bitch to Sammy

Summary: Posing as Dean's fiancée for a case. Nothing could ever go wrong, right?

Notes: English is not my first language, soooo ehehehe, please don’t judge me too harshly. Feel free to let me know your thoughts about it, I always appreciate constructive criticism.

Enjoy :)

______________________

“We’re going to a wedding?”

The chair squeaks as you turn to stare at Sam, eyebrows raised in an obvious question as you try to quickly chew and swallow the food in your mouth. Maybe he’s right, you should take smaller bites.

“Come again?”

You nod your head, pointing at Dean for putting your thoughts into words, still staring curiously at Sam.

“I just found us a case. Three different weddings, three brides dead.”

Sam walks to the table, grimaces as he pushes the remnants of your late breakfast/early lunch and sits down, partially turning his computer screen so that you and his brother can read the information he’s gathered.

“So, listen to this…”

________

Your hands smooth down the dress, running over your tummy and then your hips, as you turn around and stare at your reflection from every angle. Running is gonna be a fucking bitch in this. You move your legs around, testing the fabric’s resistance, right as Dean emerges from the bathroom.

“Well, look at you, sweetheart, you sure do clean up nicely.”

“Ha, ha, very funny. It’s 2022, why the hell can’t I wear pants?”

Right on cue, Sam walks in with what you assume is your early dinner because his “We don’t know what’s killing these people, what if the food’s poisoned?” ass, thinks it would be better to eat before heading to the reception.

“Cause you don’t own any wedding appropriate pants? Now would you, please, stop? You’ve been complaining ever since I told you about the case.”

He hands you a shoebox as you roll your eyes at his words, only to open said box and choke on your saliva.

“I’m not wearing heels, Samuel.”

“Well, you sure as hell can’t wear those old, scuffed, hunting boots either, can you?”

The box lands unceremoniously on the dusty motel bed as you stare down the younger Winchester, hands automatically going to your hips. He stares right back, holding his ground and yeah, maybe he has a point, but still…

“I can’t even walk properly on those, let alone run! How the fuck do you expect me to hunt if I risk breaking my neck on every step I take, huh?”

“Uhm, she got a point there, Sammy…”

You thank Dean for his support, eyes still locked on Sam’s as he sighs his defeat and steps back out only to walk back in a couple of minutes later with a pair of white, basic sneakers. Your lips stretch on a smile, a peace offering of some kind, because you know you’ve been a bitch to him about the case, but you can’t help it. You need something to keep your mind from thinking about being Dean fucking Winchester’s date.

Sam had, unfortunately, questioned the wedding planner, Mr. Plafond, so to him he was Agent Wedge Antilles; which left you and Dean to play the happy couple who wanted to see the planner’s work before starting to organise your own wedding. Mr. Plafond was more than willing to show you a glimpse of the final product. And, well, you were more than willing to stab yourself with a fork before having to hold hands with Dean.

You practically inhale your food, earning yourself concerned glances from your boys, but you can’t focus on that, not when your mind is obsessing over the fact that you’ll be the focus of Dean’s attention in about half an hour.

How is your fickle heart supposed to survive that when just hearing his gruff voice or witnessing his cute chuckle, has your chest constricting and your breathing quickening. Oh God. I’m so fucked. Phone in hand, you scroll mindlessly through your fake social media account as you miserably fail to calm your nerves down.

Ten minutes later, the boys are dressed to kill and you slip your gun in your thigh holster, fix your dress to make sure the knives in your bra aren’t showing and grab your purse. Going on a hunt with a fucking purse. A fucking “clutch”! I’ve become a fucking joke.

You review the plan one last time and then Sam is telling you to stay safe before he slips behind the wheel of his rented car, agreeing with Dean to meet him there a couple of minutes later to avoid raising suspicion.

Twisting your necklace around your fingers, you rest your back against the side of the car, patiently waiting as Dean checks the trunk to make sure you’re forgetting nothing.

You jump lightly when his hand envelopes yours, stopping you from further distressing the necklace.

“You seem nervous, sweetheart.”

“What? No. I mean, maybe? A little...I can’t act for the life of me, what if I mess things up?”

Dean hums his acknowledgement, a smile on his lips as his fingers find your chin and he tilts your head up for your eyes to meet.

“You trust me?”

“You know I do, Dean.”

He moves closer, so close that you can feel the keys of the Impala snug in his left pocket and digging in your side. Oh sweet baby pandas.

“You’ll do just fine...”

And then his hand, roughened by years of hunting, is caressing up your cheek, fingers then tracing the shell of your ear and for a second, an excruciatingly long, damned second, your lungs forget how to function.

“...I’ll take care of ya, sweetheart.”

It’s wishful thinking, you know that, because the heart wants what it wants, so your brain is tricking you, but damn you to all circles of hell if his voice doesn’t sound just a tad bit rougher and more strained than it usually does.

And what’s worse is that, it’s doing things to you, to your body, that you’ll have to deal with later on. I should’ve booked a room for myself, damn it.

You shouldn’t indulge, but his eyes hold yours captive and before you can force your body to pull away, his tongue pokes out, just barely, and your eyes are there, following the damn motion.

One moment you’re fantasizing about his lips and the next, those same full, pillowy, sinful lips of his are pressing to your own and stealing what little breath you have left.

All thoughts dissolve from your mind, and your body takes over, wasting no time in responding. His shirt is now fisted in your hands while your head tilts back to give him more access.

With your eyes closed, you relish in the feeling of his left hand moving from the hood of the car and sliding along your side to find your hip, turning your body to better fit his needs. A sound pushes through your throat and then you can’t take it anymore; your tongue teases the seam of his lips and takes advantage as soon as sweet, rewarding entrance is granted.

Your body melts, every muscle releasing its tension and Dean seems pretty damn okay with supporting your weight. Just as your lungs start to burn a bit too much for comfort, he pulls back with a quick, dirty nip to your cupid’s bow, leaving you blindly, stupidly, chasing after his mouth, silently asking for more.

“You see, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

No answer comes to you, and even if it did, you doubt you’d be able to voice it with the way his thumb is still running over your swollen lower lip.

“You just gotta follow my lead, sweetheart.”Oh yeah. I’m so utterly fucked.

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georgiapeach30513 · 1 year

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Every Other Weekend, Part 2

Summary: A date with the ghost of your past

Pairings: Dean Winchester X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings: language, mentions of divorce and separation, mentions of sex, mentions of blow jobs, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.1K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You laugh as the stylist beside you tells a corny joke. The week had been good. It was nearing the weekend, and it was Jack’s turn. You had been talking with a few different guys on the app, but none of them had tickled your fancy quite like Frank.

It was casual with Frank, but so sweet. He had asked about your day, he was curious about your job, wanted to know what you did for fun, but never asked for an actual date. Just your ideal one. And even told you about his hobby with boating. Saying he always imagined a romantic dinner date on a boat. Staring up at the stars, talking with one another, letting the boat rock you, and even slow dancing. It sounded like perfection.

You finish up your client when the receptionist runs up to you, “The school is on the phone. Finn got hit in the face with a ball, and his nose is bleeding.”

“What?” You screech, already grabbing your things. “Check her out. I’ve got to go,” you run out the salon, thankful that his school wasn’t far.

Rushing into the school to check in, they ring you in, letting you know he was still in the gym. “Did you call his dad, too?” You ask, knowing that Jack would want to know what happened and if his son was okay.

“Yes, Mrs. O’Malley. He said he’d be here shortly.”

You smile awkwardly, and head towards the gym. Your baby is sitting alone in the gym. A wad of tissues on his nose, leaning forward. “Finny.”

“Mom, I’m fine,” he nasally answers, but you crouch down in front of him. Lifting him up by his chin. “Mom! Coach Winchester said I was okay. Nothing looked broken.”

“Winchester? What happened to Coach Wilson? Did he put you up to this? Who threw the ball?”

“Is dad coming? You’re embarrassing me. I’m not a baby anymore,” you gasp playfully, and stand up in shock when a loud whistle rings in your ear. Spinning around quickly to see Coach Winchester in all his short red shorts glory, and Finn snorts. “Coach Winchester, this is my mom. Mom, this is the new coach.”

“Your Finn’s mom?” He asks, laughing. Extending his hand out to you, and those candy green apple eyes look your body up and down. You cock up an eyebrow shaking your head, and he holds your hands out wide, “You are looking good.”

“That’s gross.”

“Dean, not here,” you motion to the side towards Finn whose lip was curled up in confusion. “Finn, this is Dean, my…friend from high school.”

“Right,” he winks at you. Giving you a wide smile, and his eyes drift down to your left hand, and his smile gets bigger when there isn’t a ring there. “Friends. So — you have a kid now.”

“Clearly. And you teach elementary physical education. College football didn’t treat you well?” Grimacing, he looks down at the floor. He looked good. Better than he did in high school. He was taller, and wider, but still had that dangerously good looking face. He smelled much better than the cheap Ax body spray he once wore, too.

“So, would you want…”

“Dad! Thank god, mom was babying me like my nose was going to fall off. Coach Winchester even said it was fine,” Jack jogs into the gym. Heading straight towards your son, and holds him up against his body.

“Winchester, huh?” Jack knows. Your first drunken night together, and the night which Finn was conceived, you each told about the first time you had sex. Yours was standing in front of you. A couple of inches taller than Jack, and you bite at your lip when Jack tries to stand taller. “Dean?”

“You’ve heard about me?” Dean chuckles, his eyes looking back at you. “Hopefully it was all good things.”

“It was the kind of things such as they don’t know what they’re doing variety,” you give Jack a slap on the arm, apologizing to Dean. “Well, me and my wife should get Finn home.”

“Or, you go ahead, take Finn to get some ice cream, since I’m so embarrassing?”

“Yes! Please, dad, please? Or can we go to the precinct and see Cal? Or can I ride in the back of the cop car again, or,” Jack places his hand over Finn’s mouth, and turns to look at you. Finn was always extra talkative when he knew he was going to spend more time with his dad. “Please?” He asks again. This time muffled.

“Fine. You want me to drop him off at the house?”

With a nod, you turn back to look at Dean, and he throws his hands up stepping back, “I apologize about him. We both didn’t know what we were doing, but we figured it out.”

“I was actually going to — never mind. You’re married, and I’m overstepping my bounds.”

“We’re separated. Legally separated. He doesn’t even live with me,” he doesn’t. And you were currently trying to just say no anytime he wanted to ‘come over’. “I would love to go out with you. That is if that’s what you were going to ask. If not, I’ve just embarrassed myself in front of you again.”

“Embarrassing would be you gagging so bad that you couldn’t give me a proper blow job.”

“We’re at school, Dean.”

“We were then, too.”

“Okay,” you look away from him, and start to walk away. This was all too much. Dating was hard, but this was humiliating. “I’m going to scream in my pillow now.”

“You could always scream in my pillow. Ugh,” Dean groans. His hands press on his temples, and he shakes his head, “We both suck. And I think we both realize we’re not in highschool anymore. I apologize for that crude comment. I should have just asked if you wanted to go out with me Friday night?”

“Yes,” you give yourself no time to think. Just blurt out the first answer. It was Jack’s weekend. And of all the propositions you were getting online, the one you wanted was content with just talking. “Friday at seven?”

“It sounds perfect.”

“TJ!” You scream as soon as he picks up the phone. Panic had set in. Jack was running late as usual. All your clothes sucked, and you just know you’re making a terrible mistake.

“WHAT?”

“I need you.”

“Why?”

“I have a date. Jack is not getting here until eight. And I have nothing to wear.”

“I’ll be right there.”

You pace around your bedroom, hearing Finn’s music upstairs, and even the obnoxious beating of his drums. The gift from Jack the day that he moved out. Finn tortured you with that thing on a daily. You wonder if you were making a mistake. You know that there was still love with Jack. Should he admit his wrongs, you would start all over again with him. Your biggest fear was him not realizing before it was too late.

While Frank had been steadily asking you about your day, this was something you couldn’t talk about with him. Even the random messages from Nick, you had to push aside, because you were focused on making the most out of this date with Dean. It might be someone from your past, but you did always enjoy time with him. There was a sweetness about him. And he had a job where he was with kids. Surely he wanted to have some of his own.

You decided when you signed up for the site that you were going to make your list of things you were not compromising on, and that was number one. Pacing back and forth on the carpet when TJ pokes his head in. “I can work with this. Who’s the date? Did you meet him on that site? So my new pictures I told you to post helped?”

“No, I met him at the school.”

“That took an unexpected turn,” he pulls out a pair of jeans, and lays them on your bed. Starting to rifle through your closet. “Why does Jack still have clothes here?”

“His name is on the house?”

“Who are you going on a date with?” TJ walks a shirt over to you, and motions for you to put it on. “Uh, he’s very loud,” he looks up at the ceiling plugging his ears. “Of all the sabotaging things Jack could have done for you, this…this is the worst. Ooh! Pretty!” He says looking up and down at you with the outfit he chose. “I figured a dress was too much. Who are you dating.”

“Dean Winchester,” you mumble, and start to walk out of your bedroom. Already holding your ears when TJ lets out a high pitched scream.

“The Dean Winchester? Like took your V Card Dean Winchester? Like the one that you had all your firsts with? The first I love you? The first orgasm? The first kiss? The first one to put anything in your twat?”

“It wasn’t in that order, Teej,” opening the fridge, you see a few of Jack’s beers that still remain, and pop a top. Downing the brew, when you look at him, “Tell me I’m making a mistake.”

“I mean, I would have chosen someone new to lay under, but you do you.”

“I’m not having sex with Dean!”

He jerks the beer out of your hands, finishing the bottle up, “First don’t get drunk before your date. Second, why wouldn’t you sleep with Dean?”

“First date.”

“But…you’ve already had sex with him?” He never understood. He had never been married. Didn’t have kids, but when he grabs your left hand, and his thumb traces over the finger where you wedding band used to sit, he gives you a sad smile, “It’s not there. You’re separated, and it seems like you’re going to get divorced. Have fun. Sex is fun. And you’re having sad sex with Jack. I want fun and exciting sex for you. Let him show you what he’s learned these past years. He was hot in high school. Is he still hot?” You nod your head quickly, but yank your hand out of his.

“I’m still married though. I don’t know if I want to try with Jack or if I want to try this single life permanently. I’m exploring my options.”

“You can still explore your options while taking your frustrations out on Dean’s giant dick,” he gives you a shrug, but when you don’t smile, he wraps his arms around you, giving you a tight hug. “I’m just saying. Sex can be just sex. Be protected this time around for Christ’s sake.”

“I get the shot.”

“Well, good, but still wrap it before you tap it. No accidental pregnancies and shot gun weddings, okay? But have fun. And man,” he smiles looking at the front door. Finn’s beating drums are still loud in the house, so you know he won’t see you. You had let him know that TJ was going to be here when his dad came to pick him up, but he would most likely be in his room until Jack arrived. “He is punctual. I like that in a man.”

“Shh, let me enjoy this. Stay back.”

Jack waltzes into the house, and stops when he sees TJ sitting on the couch, “You and my wife having a girls night in?”

“She isn’t here,” TJ gives him a big smile, and taps on the couch beside him. “Come on. Come here and have a little chat with good ole TJ.”

“Where is she?”

“Jack…”

“Son of a bitch. I knew it. I knew something like this was going to happen. Who is it? Who…where did she meet him? Teej…what? Why are you so fucking calm? This…I was supposed to be coming home. She has the divorce papers written up. It’s…this is my family,” Jack is thankful for the constant beating of those drums. They were serving their purpose of letting him and you know if Finn was listening. And Finn was terrible at them.

“Jack, I did warn you.”

“You only tell me what I’m doing wrong though.”

“I tell her, too. She was sad when she left. Is that what you want to hear? I told her to have fun, and she left with you on her mind,” Jack feels a bit better with that admission. Not the sad part, but the part where you were thinking about him. He liked that.

“I’m not telling you who it is, because I know you. You’ll illegally search them, and dig up all their dirt, and that’s not fair. I told you months before she said she wanted a divorce that you were working too much. I told you that at least one more baby was a must for her. She wanted five when we were in highschool. She would settle for one more with you. But she needed you here for her, and for Finn. You didn’t listen.”

“And what about her? I have more sex with her now that we’re not together. I’m the one that mostly paid for this house. I’m the one that…”

“She asked for you, Jack! Your old little bitty house that you lived in, you were both happy. Bigger house meant more hours for the both of you. She cut her hours to make sure Finn was taken care of. She wants kids with you. She was withholding sex from you to make you weak. She has more sex with you now because you’re both idiots, and neither can let each other go, and you still won’t fucking compromise. Idiots. Both of you. If you want your family back, try being a family. She’s in the dating scene just like you are.”

Jack scratches the back of his neck, and looks away from TJ, “I’m not dating anyone.”

“Why you always lying? I saw you at the food court…the food court, are you seventeen man? She was making you laugh. You were touching her arm.”

“She’s not…it’s not serious.”

“Oh? Have you taken her home with you?” Jack shakes his head no. “Kissed her? Slept with her?”

“You’re just trying to get information out of me to tell my wife, so she can feel more at ease dating her highschool sweetheart. Dammit, TJ, you put her up to this.”

TJ laughs animatedly. Grabbing at his chest, but nods, “I didn’t tell her to date Dean. He asked her at the school. I did tell her to date, but I couldn’t tell her it was because I saw you at the mall. And you didn’t answer my questions, Jack. Is it because you are sleeping with that woman?”

“I am sleeping with my wife.”

“Not anymore,” TJ answers, yelling up at Finn to inform him of Jack’s arrival, ending the conversation. “If you get to fuck someone else, so should she,” Jack shakes his head almost growling at TJ. “Hey, if it’s meant to be, you’ll work your ass off and make it be.”

“I’m not sleeping with her,” Jack whispers before holding his arms wide for Finn to jump in them. Jack was pissed. Yeah, he had been talking to someone. But it wasn’t serious. And she was no you.

Dean smiles as he sits back down at the table. He was winded from his last song. “You gonna sing?” You shake your head no, taking a drink from your glass. “Oh, come on! I’ll do it with you,” when you offer him a smile, and slightly nod your head, he reaches out to cup your cheek. “You haven’t changed.”

“You have,” he drops his hand, and leans back in his chair, “You changed for the better. You’re not a cocky little shit anymore.”

“Yeah, well, my girlfriend was having sex with me. I had a lot to be cocky about.”

“You always did have to bring it to sex.”

“Now, don’t be like that. We had fun. I treated you right. We were the prom king and queen. I’m sorry, it’s just…it almost feels like no time has passed. You’re married and have a kid though.”

You take a deep breath, and Dean starts to interject, apologizing before any words escape your mouth. “I am legally married, yes. We have been separated for a few months. He doesn’t live with me. We have been going to couples counseling and nothing is working. But we are learning to co-parent. My son comes first in this. Jack and I…we got carried away when we were dating. Got pregnant, got married, and now we’re here. Two very different people.”

“You love him though,” there was no question about it. Dean knew you well enough to know that you still very much loved Jack. It was the being in love with him that you doubted.

“He gave me my son, and a few happy years, but also a few stressful and lonely years. If this turns into more than a date, I will be the first to let you know if my status with Jack has changed. But currently, we’re separated, all I lack with the divorce is filing the papers, we are co-parenting, and you and I are on our first date.”

“That’s fair. Now, about that song, what about Wanted by Bon Jovi?”

“Dean Winchester is going to sing a Bon Jovi song?” You throw your head back in laughter, and Dean can’t quit staring. You really hadn’t changed. There was always so much fun and laughter with you.

You currently could feel the change. You weren’t being held down by dead weight. This felt good. You felt seen and heard. You had someone in front of you to talk to. To laugh with. Even if it was someone from your past, this felt comfortable. Familiar. Dean was handsome, and he still had that goofy charm to him.

You didn’t want to give up on Frank, or even explore your options. You had always been a serial monogamous, and there was something exciting about the unknown. A journey to self discovery, and hopefully to finding what you really and truly loved. A way to be your own person instead of just Jack’s wife or just Finn’s mom. You forgot what it was like to put yourself first, and it felt good to be selfish.

“Here’s to finding me,” you raise your glass up, and Dean crashes his with your own. Drinking your wine, before needing to see if your body still remembered him. Pulling him closer by his shirt, you crash your lips into his. The lingering beer tingles on your lips with the way he was tracing them with his tongue. You open your mouth, granting him access, and moan at the feeling of him.

No longer was he the young man you used to know. Dean knew exactly what he was doing, “Wanna get out of here?”

“Nope. I wanna sing Bon Jovi with you.”

“Ugh, really?”

“First date, Dean.”

“I mean, really it’s our…I don’t know five hundred and sixty-seventh,” you laugh at him, shaking your head, before standing up and heading to the microphones. Curling your finger, beckoning up there with you. He sighs as he stands up. You were worth the wait and challenge. Because you were the one that got away.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @infatuatedjanes @missusbarnes-rogers @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @peaches1958 @thedarkplume @rebekahdawkins @seitmai @smile1318 @buckysteveloki-me @andydrysdalerogers @sgtjaamesbaarnes

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bearwriting · 10 months

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Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Green Eyes: Based on the song "Green Eyes" by Joseph.

Rest Day: Everyone needs some time to rest after a hunt.

Time Apart: It's been years since you and Dean have seen each other. What happens when you finally see each other again?

#supernatural masterlist #supernatural fics #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #spn masterlist #spn fics #spn imagine #spn x reader #dean winchester fics #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #bear writes

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bvrtysbvtches · 1 month

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ok but i need to know if marie actually sent dean those fic links

#the way that there's a real possibility that dean has read a destiel fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #destiel #deancas #castiel supernatural #castiel spn #supernatural #spn #spn10x5

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winchester-reload · 1 month

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Art for the lovely fic “And Now We Live” by WhatWeDoInTheDark (aka @pattywinchester). Head over to Ao3 and show the author some love!!

Thanks for letting me make some art for it, my friend. And thank you for your lovely words 💓

#destiel #destiel art #destiel fic #my art #dean winchester #castiel #fanart #spn fanfic #spn fanart

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corinthianism · 6 months

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corinthianism's fic recs

here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut

last updated: march 26, 2024

MARVEL

loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)

thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor

peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) - webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)

steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)

marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)

wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)

SHERLOCK (BBC)

sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero

SUPERNATURAL

sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut

dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics

castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)

THE SANDMAN

the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics

dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare

CRIMINAL MINDS

aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)

THE BOYS

soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies

homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch

GAME OF THRONES

jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)

STAR WARS

obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right? (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)

din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika

DRACULA (BBC)

count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier

LOTR/THE HOBBIT

thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)

DOCTOR SLEEP

dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg

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zepskies · 8 months

Note

I LOVE YOUR DEAN STUFF SM

Thank you, my love!! 🥰💖

I just freakin' love Dean Winchester. He's a deliciously complex character, and I can't stop writing him at the moment. (And I think we'd all agree, he didn't get the love and care he deserved on the show.)

If I may ask, which Dean story of mine has been your favorite so far? 😘

#ask me stuff #dean winchester #spn #dean winchester fics #supernatural #Dean love #reader appreciation #zepskies answers

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vendettasfanfictioning · 4 months

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Missed opportunity to have Castiel try to communicate with Dean again using his Trueform except this time, it actually works because 1) Cas has healed Dean enough times for his Grace to recognize Dean, and 2) with Cas' Grace depleting as it is, it wouldn't do as much damage as, say, make Dean's ears bleed, like the last time it happened.

And then Sam walks into the room, that's still shaking and breaking from the power of Cas' voice, and he's fucking decimated he's on the floor yelling what the fuck is happening while Dean's sitting on the bed, mid-laugh because Cas just said the funniest shit ever or something idk he's whipped.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #sam winchester #deancas #spn rant #destiel fic #imagine #lmao i love the trope of sam's suffering in the face of destiel's profound bond

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xspeter · 29 days

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do yall ever think about the jaw dropping fics that are probably sitting collecting dust in someone’s drafts rn.

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wildgirllz · 1 year

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Your camera roll if you hunted with Sam and Dean.

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 3 months

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Too Many Beds

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: you want nothing more than an excuse to sleep next to dean again

pairing: (pre-s1/s1) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none really, language, bed sharing, kissing, mutual pining, idiots in love, brief mention of the death of reader’s dad

timeline: starts slightly before season one, ends near the beginning of season one

author’s note: a spin on the classic 'just one bed, what ever shall we do?' trope lol

You’d known Dean all your life, practically. You met him when you were six and he was eight; two lonely little kids stuck with absent (job-driven) fathers and baby brothers you felt responsible for. Over the course of the last eighteen-or-so years you ran into the Winchesters during hunts enough that you considered them family.

When Sam left for college you were there for Dean and when you lost your dad in a hunting accident Dean was there for you. He actually stayed with you, not wanting you to hunt alone since your brother was off at college too.

So, for the last six months you’d been hunting with Dean (who hadn’t spoken to Sam for over a year).

“One room, two queens,” Dean said to the woman behind the counter, placing “his” credit card on the space between them before sliding it toward her.

“We’re all booked up I’m afraid,” she said.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I was actually about to turn on the no vacancy sign.”

“This is the third motel we’ve been to,” you said, “every one of them has been full—you’ve gotta have something!”

“I mean, there’s technically one room left but the heater’s out and my boss said not to let anyone sleep there because of that.”

There was a silent pause; you and Dean shared a knowing look.

“We’ll pay in cash, your boss ‘ll never know,” you told the woman. She smiled and nodded as you paid her with cash.

“Room 209, my boss gets here at ten tomorrow morning so please leave before then.” She handed you the key and you nodded in thanks.

You had underestimated just how cold the room could be, but when you unlocked and opened the door you understood why the owner didn’t want anyone staying here.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled, following you into the room and feeling the cold air. “We’re gonna freeze our asses off in here!” he quickly closed the door behind him, hoping the icy air hadn’t swept any snow into the room.

“It’s either this or we sleep in the Impala,” you shrugged, “and, no offense to your car, but it’s fuckin’ uncomfortable to sleep in.”

“And there’s only one bed,” Dean sighed.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you told him, ignoring his complaints.

“Are you shivering or crying?” Dean asked.

You rolled over so you could meet his stare; “Shivering! It’s fuckin’ cold in here!”

“You wanna…cuddle up, maybe?” he asked hesitantly.

“Excuse me?” you laughed a little.

“Look, I’m not thrilled about it either, but it’s cold in here and unless we both wanna catch fucking pneumonia we better be smart and share body heat.”

You sighed, weighing your options; “Fine. But we never, and I mean never speak of this again, you hear me?”

“Understood.” He nodded.

You rolled back over as he scooted closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.

“This okay?” he asked quietly, his lips ghosting the back of your head.

“Yeah,” you mumbled back. “Thank you, Dean.”

You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring loudly. You were used to his snores, sure, but he’d never been this close. He was laying on his stomach and resting on your chest; his mouth open and his hair tickling your neck. Your first reaction was annoyance but then it quickly washed away as you realized you didn’t want to move a muscle, so Dean could continue sleeping.

And the more you laid there, listening to his snores, the more you realized how comfortable you were…even in such a physically uncomfortable situation.

As the time passed and the sun began to rise, you cursed the light that was slowly but surely peeking through the curtain and onto Dean’s face.

“Morning,” he mumbled to you as he lifted his head up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his right hand before wiping his mouth. “Sorry,” he chuckled, noticing the small spot on your gray sweater dampened with his drool.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled back. “I think it’s your sweater anyway.”

“I thought it looked familiar.”

He rolled off of you and out of bed.

You watched as he padded across the dirty carpet and over to the small kitchen. He turned on the coffee maker and the loud, off putting grinding noise made his face scrunch before he quickly shut off the (definitely broken) machine.

“So much for coffee,” he grumbled. “You gonna sit there all morning or you wanna get outta here? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

“I’m getting up,” you replied. You would usually be annoyed at him for rushing you to wake up, but this time the annoyance was…different. Something about his bedhead, the way his lips were pouting over the lack of caffeine, and how he looked in his brown Henley and baggy sweats just made you wanna hold him again. All you wanted was to pull him back into bed with you and hold him in your arms forever.

You were beyond frustrated at this point. How many stupid fucking hotels had to have vacant rooms with two beds and a functional heating system!?

It had been nearly six months since you and Dean shared a bed and you had been looking for an excuse to sleep next to him ever since.

But the last couple weeks had been different—Sammy was back. Yes, you loved Sam like a brother, but you missed getting to be alone with Dean. You missed sitting shotgun in the Impala and watching him drive.

Sam definitely noticed the way you looked at Dean, but the younger Winchester didn’t say a word. Without being too obvious about it, he tried to do little things that would let you be close to his brother. He’d sit in a certain chair or part of the couch so that you and Dean had no choice but to sit together. Or he’d make some lame excuse so that he got his own room while you and Dean had to share. “I need to do some more research and I need the light, why don’t you two just sleep in the other room?” for example.

“Two rooms, please,” Dean said, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet.

“Unfortunately we’ve only got one room left,” the cashier replied.

You almost couldn’t believe your ears, fucking finally!

“Oh, that’s too bad,” you faked your best frustrated look, of course Sam saw right through that.

“Well, I am not sharing with either or you,” he said with a teasing smile.

“There’s actually a pullout couch in that room, as luck would have it,” the cashier informed the three of you.

God fucking damn it, you thought to yourself.

It was barely after two when you felt the bed behind you dip, and you shook yourself awake.

“The hell?” you asked, still half asleep.

“The pullout couch isn’t working,” Dean mumbled quietly. “You mind sharing with me?”

You smiled a little and scooted closer into his arms, indicating you were okay with him sleeping next to you.

“Of course I don’t mind sharing with you,” you whispered and his grip tightened.

“I’m gonna go get breakfast,” Sam announced. “I’m assuming you want your usual?”

Dean put his right pointer finger to his lips and furrowed his brows angrily. He gestured to you as you slept and Sam got the message.

“Usual is good,” Dean whispered before Sam left.

Dean stayed laying perfectly still as you slept on his chest, soft snores escaping your lips and to Dean they were the sweetest sound.

As you stirred awake slowly, he rubbed your back a little.

“Morning,” you mumbled, a small smile on your lips. “Where’s Sam?”

“He went to grab breakfast,” Dean told you.

You furrowed your brows as you sat up, looked across the room, and realized something; “The pullout bed looks fine? I thought you said it wasn’t working?” You turned back to Dean, who had a sheepish grin growing on his lips.

“So…maybe I’ve just been looking for an excuse to sleep next to you again. Like we did back in that motel when the heat was out.”

“Really?” You attempted to hide the smile trying to find its way onto your face.

“When we were checking in last night I noticed how your face lit up when they said there was only one room left,” Dean admitted. “And I saw that disappointed look you made when they said there was a pullout couch. So, am I wrong, or have you been wanting an excuse too?”

“I really liked sleeping next to you that night,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “And you’re right, I have been hoping for another ‘oh no just one bed, guess we’ll have to share’ situation but…”

“But what?” Dean asked when you trailed off. You looked down at him.

“Dean, you and Sam have been like my brothers for as long as I can remember. I mean, Bobby practically raised all three of us and my actual brother as siblings! Your dad and my dad knew each other basically forever and I guess…I guess I figured our lives are too entangled for anything to ever actually happen between us. We’re family.”

“Chosen family, Y/n.” Dean smiled softly. “Doesn’t mean you have to be my chosen sister, you could be my chosen…you know…”

You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his full lips.

“That,” Dean finished his previous statement.

“Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?” you suggested. “If Sam finds out, then your dad will find out, and he’ll immediately tell my brother, then before we know it Bobby—”

“I get the picture, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled before kissing you again. He put his hands on your cheeks as he sat up. He pulled you onto his lap, your legs now straddling his hips. His hands moved to your shoulders then trailed down to your lower back as yours went into his hair. You pulled away from him after a moment, huge smiles on both your faces.

You looked into his eyes, his truly beautiful eyes, and you bit your bottom lip ever so slightly. Your right hand rested on his left cheek, your thumb stroking his skin lovingly.

“You’re awesome, Dean Winchester,” you whispered.

“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he replied before he kissed you again. “And gorgeous, too,” he added. “You know how fuckin’ annoying it’s been, sleeping without you every night since that one time?”

“I do know, Dean, I’ve been just as annoyed about it.”

Dean kissed you one more time before he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, tucking his head into your neck. You wrapped your arms around him too, pressing your lips to his temple.

You pulled out of the hug so you could once again look at his face. Resting your forehead on his, you smiled before you kissed him again.

“Breakfast,” Sam called out as he opened the door, “is served!”

You and Dean froze for a split second before you hurried off of him.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, “did I interrupt you two?”

“What?” you scoffed. “Of course not!”

“Interrupt? There’s nothing to interrupt?” Dean added.

“Oh…wow you two are fast,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen before putting the food down. “Well, pancakes, eggs, and bacon from the continental breakfast.” He gestured to the food now on the table. “Hope you’re hungry.”

As Sam sat down to eat, you looked at Dean anxiously. Say something you begged him with your eyes.

“Sammy,” Dean started as he got out of bed, “would you mind uh…not telling dad? About me and Y/n…kissing just now? When we find him, I mean.”

“Dad’s never really been invested in your love life, but he’s not an idiot,” Sam laughed.

“So…you are gonna tell him?” Dean furrowed his brows in frustration.

“Dean, he knows you two are together, it’s not some big secret?” Sam replied, shoveling more food into his mouth. “Damn that’s good.”

“Okay, just hold on—what?” Dean asked. “What do you mean dad knows? There’s been nothing to know since like four minutes ago?”

“Wait,” Sam stopped eating and fully turned to face you and his brother, “are you trying to tell me this is the first time you two have kissed?” Sam furrowed his brows deeply as you and Dean both nodded. “So…never in high school?” You shook your heads again. “That prom we crashed?”

“Sam you were there the whole time? When would we have kissed?” you asked.

“Huh,” Sam let out a laugh. “I genuinely thought you two had been a thing since like… ‘98.”

“What!?” you and Dean exclaimed in unison.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #dean x reader #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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wildwestdean · 3 months

Text

transposition

summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made

pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)

word count: 6.3k+

warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”

“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch.

“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-”

“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation.

“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you.

It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together.

“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients.

“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”

“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”

He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back.

With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t.

You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension.

“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-”

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands?

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body?

“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you.

“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”

“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around.

“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself.

“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode.

“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!”

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room.

“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?”

“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind.

“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare.

“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you.

“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on.

Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.”

“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat.

Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now.

“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling.

“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily.

Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time.

“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.

Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”

“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?”

“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be.

“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him.

“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!”

“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return.

“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean.

“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again.

“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”

“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face.

“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.”

“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room.

You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes.

“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression.

“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you.

“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug.

“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!”

“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.”

“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.”

“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.”

“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish.

With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen.

“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”

“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?”

“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”

“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!”

“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!”

“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”

“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.”

“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!”

“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen.

“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table.

Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.”

Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort.

Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze.

“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head.

Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite.

“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food.

The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere.

“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin.

You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?”

“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?”

“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.

After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t.

“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly.

You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier.

“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.

“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.”

“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving.

You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle.

“You alright?” you asked tentatively.

“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one.

“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.”

“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better.

He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation.

He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.”

“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word.

You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.

“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table.

“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration.

“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”

“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.”

“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return.

You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.”

Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”

“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation.

“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.”

You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk.

“What does that mean?” you asked curiously.

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.”

“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”

You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.

“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you.

“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively.

You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.”

“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.”

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically.

“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.”

“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.”

“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.”

“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off.

“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.”

“Promise?” you asked meekly.

“I promise,” he said firmly.

“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further.

“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears.

“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly.

“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.

The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.

You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on.

“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously.

“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question.

You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this.

“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter.

The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you.

Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”

Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake.

The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day.

You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there.

You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam.

You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything.

The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore.

Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out.

You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs.

“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat.

Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.”

“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?”

“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.

“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?”

“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”

You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave.

“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you.

“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards.

“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?”

“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.”

Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”

“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.”

“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”

“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words.

“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward.

“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response.

“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.”

“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.

“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.”

You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name.

“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.”

You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you?

“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.”

“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps.

“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker.

“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.

“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.

“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently.

“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly.

It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated.

“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.”

“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation.

“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?”

“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her.

“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly.

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.

It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.

“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?”

“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around.

“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!”

Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room.

“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief.

“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar.

You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.

“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-”

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.

“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.

“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room.

“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by.

“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car.

The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him.

If he ever decided to open the goddamn door.

“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time.

You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?”

You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward.

He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly.

“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.”

He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.”

“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you.

“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.

“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet.

“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work.

“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.”

“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him.

“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-”

“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”

“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.

“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more.

“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.”

“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat.

“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.”

“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked.

“We didn’t lie, we just-”

“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”

“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly.

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?”

“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?”

“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.”

“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess.

You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?”

He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?”

“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.

“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down.

“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him.

“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?”

“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more.

“You said-”

“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”

“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin.

“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”

You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low.

“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.

As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks.

When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips.

You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.”

“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”

tagging: @winharry

dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika

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