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#mountain man dean
justablix · 7 months
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I'm so fucking tired of characters going through an entire arc of healing only to get killed off. In what fucking universe is that the appropriate, fitting, happy ending
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cheerfulripley · 6 months
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I really really REALLY want to work on my SPN Destiel Christmas fic but am struggling 😫!!
Please share your recs for Xmas stuff to get you in the festive mood: movies (romcoms would be great), albums, fics, tropes, Pinterest images. Heck, your favorite christmas memories would be fun to read
I really don't want to put off this fic another year but I need your holiday energy.
How about a trade? Here's som images from my pinterest board for the fic 😄
(The idea is an AU! Mute mountain man Cas and his dog Dozer have to play host to author Dean, who's car crashes in a blizzard before Xmas and Cas' cabin is the only place he can go! Will sparks fly?)
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I found this way back in my notes app and feel it needed to be shared akbsjdjdnd
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deanstockwellgal · 5 months
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Dean Stockwell playing the piano in Snowy Mountain pt 4.
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peterlorrefanpage · 2 years
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Peter Lorre, “Man Mountain” Dean the wrestler, and Dean's wife, on the set of Nancy Steele is Missing! (1937).
Peter was a wrestling fan. A Fox publicist got out a press release stating that when “Man Mountain” Dean wrestles, the actor is on hand in Dean’s corner and acts as his “unofficial second.”
Here, Dean, with his wife, visits the set of Nancy Steele is Missing! (1937) to act as Lorre’s second when he sees action against Victor McLaglen.
Lorre to Dean: “I go to the wrestling matches to learn about acting. I hope you didn’t come to the studio for the opposite reason.”
Source
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ex9music · 3 days
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Judgement day_ by cee 10 and Ex9 ,_produced by tripple Ice_ 0771425315/0...
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seasonninecas · 1 year
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i finally get all u dta bitches. im one of you now. map of the world chapter 8. thats what got me
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asoftepiloguemylove · 4 months
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YOU CHANGED ME FOR THE BETTER // FAMILY IN THE LAST OF US
Joan Tierney The Elektra Complex // The Last of Us (2013) cr. Naughty Dog // Dean Lewis How Do I Say Goodbye // Sophocles Antigone // Lorde Ribs // unknown // The Last of Us (2023-), "Endure and Survive" dir. Jeremy Webb // Frank Ocean Wise Man // Eden Robinson Writing Prompts for the Broken-hearted // The Last of Us (2013) cr. Naughty Dog // Radical Face Always Gold // unknown // Jinhao Xie Stubborn Heart Beats (via @voicedwords) // The Last of Us (2023-), "Kin" dir. Jasmila Zbanic // Ann Brashares My Name Is Memory // The Mountain Goats Sax Rohmer #1 // The Last of Us Part II (2020) cr. Naughty Dog
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 months
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The Ranger (Part 1)
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Summary: The reader is trying to enjoy her vacation in the rainy forest in her cozy cabin when an unexpected heat comes on. But things turn dangerous fast and she needs the help of a local forest ranger to get out of it. But she wasn't expecting his help to include claiming her and being her true mate. Because something isn't right and her Alpha is keeping something from her...
Masterlist
Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader
Word Count: 5,300ish
Warnings: language, life threatening medical situation, angst
A/N: Please enjoy this first part!
_______
This was not an ideal situation. You’d finally done it and taken that solo vacation in the mountains. A cozy cabin in a retreat from the world. The trees had turned already and were bare but the damp, cloudy rainy day would have been perfect to curl up by the wood fireplace and get through that stack of books you’d been meaning to.
Except your heat, your heat that’d always been on schedule since you’d started having them, was three fucking weeks early. You didn’t have any medicine besides a few pain killers meant for headaches, not dangerous cramps, and the cabin only had basics meant for allergies or a cold. You needed heat suppressants soon if you didn’t want to go into a full heat. 
Which again, wasn’t an ideal situation since you didn’t have a flippin’ mate.
You could have tried to trek back to civilization through the winding dirt road but it’d taken two hours on the way in. Two hours of intense cramps? No way were you making that drive.
“Shit,” you said, walking slowly to the service room on the lower floor of the cabin where a radio at a table sat. Because of course you wanted to vacation somewhere without people, that meant no cell service either.
A rumble of cramps passed through you, warmth flaring your insides. You gritted your teeth and grabbed the radio, turning the frequency to the ranger station listed on the sheet on the table for emergencies.
“Hello, uh, forest service? I need help,” you said, closing your eyes as pain radiated up your spine. You frowned for a moment, the radio crackling. “Hello? I-”
“This is station 327, Ranger Winchester. What’s the emergency?” asked a strong, serious voice. You bit your bottom lip as you imagined he was an Alpha, your core quivering at the idea of getting a knot. “Mam? Please respond.”
“M-My heat’s early. It’s real bad and I have no medication. I-I’m in the Vrbo cabin off route 37, Mount Dusk I think it was called. I-”
“This line is for true emergencies. Your heat being a few days early and you being an unprepared Omega is not-”
“Listen asshole,” you snarled, gasping when your stomach threatened to curl in on itself. “It’s three fucking weeks early which everyone knows isn’t normal. I need a fucking heat kit, a strong one, or a fucking knot now and since I’m out here alone, all I got is your ass. So get me my shit and-FUCK!”
You dropped the radio as you bent over, falling to your knees. Something was wrong. Heat’s didn’t come on this fast, not even when you scented your true mate.
You could hear noise through the radio but your head was thrumming, your body grateful for the cold wood floor below you. It wasn’t possible to die from a heat, was it? If you let the fever go you supposed but it took days and days for that to happen and you’d only felt crappy for an hour. Yeah, you’d be just fine. This guy would bring you medicine and you’d be fine.
Right?
You blinked open your eyes when you heard glass break. Crap, you’d passed out for who knew how long. The overwhelming scent of Alpha hit you and despite the pain, you shot upright, staring at the man in the wet raincoat as he reached his hand through the broken pane and undid the lock. He froze when he saw you, his own scent shifting subtly. A hint of fear under the surface.
“Jesus,” he mumbled, raking his eyes over your sweat drenched body. He took off his backpack, pulling out a white box and a bottle of water, cautiously setting them on the ground and sliding them over to you.
“I look that bad, huh?” you said, ripping open the box and finding the medicine you needed, knocking it back with a swig of water. 
“You’re in heat and I don’t want to be accused of doing shit I didn’t,” he said. You narrowed your eyes, hand fisting in your own shirt over your stomach. That shouldn’t have been happening still. Heat medication worked instantly. “What’s-”
You fell over again, clutching your abdomen, head spinning, body going haywire at his scent.
“Please,” you whispered, finding his hard eyes. “I’ll give you whatever you want. I-I need you to-”
“I can’t.” A wracked sob slipped past your lips as something in your broke, pain flooding every single cell. You just needed a knot and it would be bearable. He muttered to himself and quickly you were in strong arms, your own wrapping around him shakily. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“I’ll pay you,” you whispered, hating how that sounded but he simply carried you out in the pouring rain, the cold air helping your skin not feel so hot.
“I’m on Novi-Alpha. If I knotted you,, you’d fucking die so I’m sorry but I can’t help you like that even if I wanted to.”
“I’m gonna die from this fucking fever anyways!” you shouted as he opened the backdoor of a rugged looking jeep. 
“One’s a chance, one’s a guarantee,” he said, setting you down, your arms still clinging to him. He eyed you, forcibly grabbing your wrists and pulling them away. “You will not die, understand me? Now let me get you to a hospital.”
You reached for him but he moved away too quickly, closing the door. He ducked into the cabin to retrieve his bag before he was behind the wheel.
“Honey Dusk Hospital is aware you’re in a dangerous heat,” he said, turning the jeep around and driving down the dirt road, way faster than you had.
“Don’t kill me in a fucking car accident on the way,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut.
“This vehicle is meant for these roads, unlike your car. We’ll be on route 37 in thirty minutes, at the hospital in forty five.” You threw your head back, his musky scent filling the small space. 
“Distract me,” you breathed out. “Fuck you smell so good. If you weren’t on Novi-Alpha, I’d climb you like a fucking tree.”
“Whoa lady. Calm down-”
“Don’t lady me. We’re like the same fucking age.”
“You say fucking a lot, you realize.”
“You have your insides tearing apart and tell me you wouldn’t be cursing-” You shouted, bracing yourself against the door panel, feeling him step on the gas harder. “What the fuck is happening to me?”
“...I have an idea,” he said quietly. You flashed open your eyes, looking at his incredible scruff covered jawline, his gaze focused on the bumpy, wet road ahead. 
“What? Are you a doctor? Are-”
“No. I only know my basic medical training.” He frowned, rounding a tight corner. “It’s probably not a heat and you’re just sick.”
“I know what a heat feels like thank you very much.” You shivered violently, the ranger sighing. “What’s your name?”
“Dean Winchester. Try to rest. We’ll be there soon.”
The ranger’s suggestion to rest had, shockingly, not worked. By the time you were speeding down this small town’s streets, you were shaking so hard you literally couldn’t stop. Dean had reached back more than once as he drove with a handheld thermometer, muttering a few f-bombs to himself.
At least he wasn’t the one with a hundred and five temperature. A hundred and five and a half to be exact. You were pretty sure your heat was about to boil the fuck out of you and kill you within the next hour.
Dean said something but you didn’t hear him over your screaming. The next thing you knew he was ripping open the door and running inside a hospital with you in his arms, nearly tripping into a stretcher where a team was waiting.
“She’s fucking dying,” he said as he set you down, the team of doctors and nurses rushing you into a side room.
“You said this heat came on suddenly?” he asked Dean, someone sticking a thermometer in your ear.
“106. She’s too hot,” called out the nurse, the doctor near Dean rushing over, the team suddenly pushing you out of the room and down the hall. You were shoved through a pair of double doors into a bathroom, a silver high walled tub in the corner. 
“I got her,” said Dean, lifting you up and plunging you into an icy cold bath. You screamed as it burned your fiery skin, his hands on your shoulders forcing you to stay inside. “Look at me. Look at me.”
You couldn’t get the words out, taking in his green emerald eyes for the first time. His scent was still all around you, pine trees and vanilla beans, a cozy campfire and aged whiskey, fresh tobacco and soft linen. Your brain went fuzzy, blood pumping in your ears, thrumming in time with your heart. Was it getting slower? Your eyes were getting heavier, that was for sure. 
But he smelled so pretty, so…homey. Rugged. Yours.
“We’re losing her!” someone shouted, just as one last image of his concerned face crossed your mind.
You felt strangely…blissed out when you woke. Satisfied, like you were after being on the receiving end of a knot but also relaxed and floaty, like when you finished a heat. It wasn’t exactly a problem your heat had passed but you remembered a whole lot of pain and a high fever which wasn’t normal. 
So what the fuck had happened?
You stretched in bed and sat up, a doctor in a white coat stepping into the room with a smile.
“Y/N! Glad to see you awake. It’s been a few hours. How are you feeling?” he asked, gently taking your wrist and checking your pulse. 
“Uh, pretty good actually. I take it my heat’s gone?” He hummed, raising your arm up, feeling under your armpit.
“Yes. There’s not many cases a year but some Omegas do unfortunately have a negative reaction.” The doctor put two fingers to your bonding gland on your neck, your eyes narrowing. Why would he be feeling that? 
“What are you doing?” you asked as he pulled them back, glancing at a monitor. 
“Just checking your bond is healing.” You stared at him, the doctor glancing down with a sigh. “You don’t remember, do you? What happened before you passed out in the tub?”
“I remember being dumped in ice cold water and a whole lot of people shouting but that’s it.” 
“You didn’t pass out immediately. We determined while you were on the way here that your heat was triggered by the fact you came into contact with your true mate. Ordinarily, you would have picked up on this yourselves but your Alpha is on medication that has strong side effects. Namely, he was only vaguely aware of who you were through scent but there was no desire to mate as would be the norm. For you, unfortunately there is no recognition on a level that you’re aware of. You understandably would not know you went into heat early because of your true mate.”
You reached a hand up to your bonding gland, wide eyed when you felt…something. You flew out of bed, the doctor trying to stop you but you were quickly in the small bathroom, staring in the mirror.
“What the fuck is that!” you shouted. On your neck was a fresh, pink, bite mark. Someone had fucking claimed you. You angrily spun around, the doctor holding up his hands. “What kind of hospital is this! I’m suing the fuck out of you and this whole place!”
You caught a whiff of something…delectable, an Alpha’s scent somewhere close by. It calmed you, ever so briefly, the doctor sighing. 
“The man that brought you in-”
“The ranger guy.”
“Yes he…well he…there’s no easy way to say this. He is your true mate. Ordinarily we would have used medication to mimic your true mate’s scent but seeing as he was there…when he was told he would be able to claim…” he said as you stalked out, eye twitching. “We were losing you and receiving a claim bite from your true mate was the fastest way to bring your fever down. In emergency situations, true mates are allowed to make medical choice for you if you’re unable-”
“He wasn’t my mate then,” you growled.
“Physically, no but on a metaphysical level, yes. Frankly, the health of my patient, you, is all I care about. We’d like to observe you a few more hours before discharging.” You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes.
“So my heat is magically gone and some random dude hanging out in the hall is now my Alpha?” 
“That’s the more blunt way of putting it. We’ll send home medication to suppress your urges to mate physically. Your Alpha will be unable to knot you until he has completed his Novi-Alpha prescription.” 
“And when will that be?” you asked, tilting your head. The doctor frowned. “When?”
“...You don’t know what Novi-Alpha is prescribed for, do you. That is a discussion for you and your Alpha.” You wanted to argue but he lifted his chin. “Please let me finish my examination and determine if your heat had any consequences.”
Three hours later they finally let you leave, a white baggie in hand that held a bottle of pills you were to take once a week for the foreseeable future. There were well over a hundred inside which made you more than queasy.
What the fuck was Novi-Alpha and why did a guy that looked more than healthy need to be on it?
You frowned when you stepped outside under the covered front entrance, the ranger standing from where he sat on a bench. 
“Hey,” he said quietly. “How are you feeling?” 
“I didn’t give you permission to claim me.” His scent shifted, an edge to it you didn’t like. He narrowed his eyes, a frown growing on his otherwise handsome face. “Oh, don’t you start on that we’re true mates shit. You didn’t ask for my consent.”
“Excuse me but you were the one begging for it,” he quipped back. He took a few steps away like he was heading for the sidewalk, suddenly turning on a dime and getting in your face. He breathed heavily, clenching his jaw. “You don’t feel…this and I get that it’s my fault. I barely feel it myself. And I frankly don’t care about your consent. My mate was five minutes away from death.”
“Oh, I did not sign up for some toxic asshole,” you said, shaking your head. You took a step, Dean grabbing your wrist. He looked ready to snarl, lip curling up. 
“True mates are never, ever bad mates. Stop hating me for saving you.”
“I don’t even fucking know you. This whole situation is your damn fault in the first place.” He twitched his eye, yanking on your arm so you stepped forward. “Get off, ass-”
“I am your Alpha and I’m taking you home,” he said, tugging you along after him, your feet cold on the wet ground, socks already soaked through. 
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you growled. Dean whipped around and in a second, you were tossed over his shoulder. “Dean! Put me down!”
“You’ll wear yourself out if you don’t calm down.” You growled, punching his back twice. You raised your fist again but felt dizzy, your hands instead gripping him tightly. “Did you listen to the doctors at all? You need to take it easy.”
“Just take me to my cabin,” you grumbled. He didn’t speak again, only grunted once when he opened the passenger door of his truck to slide you inside. You were too tired to deal with this crap. You’d go back to the cabin, sleep for a solid twelve hours and figure out this mate crap tomorrow. 
The roads were unfamiliar as Dean drove in silence, winding and twisting as he drove away from town and off a small road. It was a gravel road unlike the one to your cabin but you perked up when you saw a cabin in a small clearing after only a few minutes. 
“Uh, that’s not my cabin,” you said. Dean put the truck in park, turning it off. “I was out on Mount-”
“This is my house…our house,” he mumbled the last part. You shook your head at him, Dean rolling his eyes. “You need rest, not to sit in a car for hours. I’ll get your shit from that rental and bring it here. We’ll figure out the rest of your crap from wherever you’re from later.”
“Excuse me? We’re mates, as much as that appalls me. We make decisions like where to live together. I have a job, a life-”
“We live here. End of discussion,” he growled. His scent was raw, twitchy. There was no room for arguing. You were ready to fight back but you forced yourself to calm down. He was your true mate and as much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. True mates were never bad to one another. He wouldn’t harm you but good god was this guy protective. 
You frowned when he held up a finger to you and got out. He threw up his hood, rain coming down harder. In a flash he was at your door, picking you up bridal style and rushing you over to a covered porch. He set you down to unlock the door, flipping a light switch before he stepped back. You walked past him, surprised to find the cabin quite spacious and modern.
He disappeared behind you, returning with your white paper bag, now wet. His boots were removed and you peeled off your soaked through socks, following him slowly as he went to the open kitchen area on the right. The bag was set down, Dean moving to his fridge and taking a few things out.
It was open concept, kitchen on the right, living room on the left, a dining table in the front by the windows. There was a hallway in the back and one off the kitchen, probably leading to bedrooms and a garage. A large fireplace was nestled in the corner of the living room and you saw Dean cross into your vision, going to it to toss in a few logs. 
Honestly, it was nicer than your rental had been.
Once he had a fire going, he turned back to where you stood on the front rug, water dripping off of you. His lips pressed into a thin line, looking you up and down not like an Alpha would his Omega. No, he was being very clear. 
You were the stray that’d followed him home he hadn’t wanted. 
“I don’t have to be here,” you said when he approached, staring up at his dark eyes. “This isn’t normal. We’re supposed to be all over each other and clearly we’re not. We-”
“There’s a stew going on the stove. It’ll be ready in an hour. Just leave it alone.” He put a hand on the small of your back, walking you down to the back hall, motioning you to the last door on the left. He flipped on a light, cascading you into a cozy bedroom with soft white bedding and a dark green flannel blanket on top. 
He cleared his throat and went to a closet, pulling out a few pieces including a t shirt, hoodie, sweatpants and pair of boxer briefs. 
“You should warm up in the shower. Bathroom is right there. The laundry room is on the other side of the house, near the kitchen and garage. It’s coming down harder so it’ll take me a few hours to get to the rental and back here. You should-”
“Take it easy. Yeah, I got that.” He nodded, pausing at the bedroom door with his back to you. 
“If it’s any consolation, I’m sorry this happened to you. You don’t deserve it.” You quirked your eyebrow up.
“You’re my Alpha. We’re soulmates. I guess this is supposed to happen.” He was still, the air thick. “I…listen I know I was…I wish I’d been aware of what I’d been saying but…”
He smelled tense, his hand in a tight fist by his side. What the fuck was up with this guy?
“Whether we like it or not, we’re mates,” you said gently. “When you get off that medicine, it’ll feel different-”
“I can never get off it and I can never knot you. You’ll never feel a damn thing for me.” Then he was gone, tearing down the hall and out the front door before you could even move. 
An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine that he was right. 
Your feet moved on autopilot to the bathroom, stripping out of the wet clothes and standing in front of the nicely tiled shower. In seconds you were under hot water, cascading down your back, through your hair. Fingers reached up to your neck, rubbing over your bond.
There were no sparks or flurry in your veins. You were supposed to be able to feel Dean, feel your connection, feel his soul.
But there was nothing. All you felt was empty.
You couldn’t feel the other part of your soul and he blamed himself.
“Fuck that,” you said, quickly finishing and getting dressed in the clothes aside from the sweatpants that were too long.
You found his computer in one of the spare bedrooms, stealing it along with a notepad and pen. Out in the kitchen, you settled into a seat at the island and drew a line down the middle of the pad. One side for information about Dean, the other Novi-Alpha.
With a quick stretch, you cracked open the laptop and got to work.
Three Hours Later
It was dark by the time headlights flashed through the front windows. The computer said it was just after six thirty and you knew you were about thirty seconds away from an argument. Ah, what a wonderful way to spend your first night with your Alpha.
Out of view you heard the door leading from the garage to the house crack open, wet boots against the tile in the mudroom. 
“I’m back!” he called from around the corner. “We’ll unpack your stuff tomorrow. How was…”
Your eyes darted over to the hallway he exited from, his socked feet padding his footfalls on the woode floors that covered the rest of the house. He stared at where you had his laptop, a charger plugged into the side of the island, a stack of papers next to you, your notepad, pen, three different highlighters and a cup of coffee.
“Are…are you working?” He asked, face souring. “You should be resting. I thought you were here on vacation anyways.”
“I am and this isn’t work related.” He narrowed his eyes, not saying anything as he went to the sink on the other side of the island to wash up. 
“Did you eat yet?” You shook your head, typing some more. A heavy sigh left him. He went to a cabinet, pulling out two large bowls. “You really should have eaten something. You nearly died this morning. Your school project can wait.”
“I’m not in college,” you said, jotting down a few more notes before you saved what you’d been working on and signed out of your account. You closed the screen, watching water trail down from his wet hair and soaking his shirt collar. “Why are you wet?”
“Because there’s a thunderstorm outside. It rains here most days,” he said dryly, giving you a side glare as he walked the two bowls of stew over to the kitchen table. You cocked your head at him as you got up, Dean quickly retrieving utensils. “What?”
“You parked in the garage just now and my cabin was far enough away that you’d be dry. Where’d you stop on the way back?” He slammed the drawer shut, eye twitching. “Strike a nerve?”
“I asked you to do one thing. One thing. Rest. And y-you’re writing a research paper or some crap? Sit down and eat your damn dinner.” You would have told him off but truth be told, you were starving a bit. You took your bowl and moved it to the seat across from his, Dean angrily setting down a spoon. A few moments later, a large glass of water was in front of you and he had a bottle of beer on his placemat. Dean sat with a loud thud, shoveling a large spoonful of food into his mouth.
“Why are you wet?” you asked again, crossing your arms. 
“Why does it matter? Fucking eat.” You leaned back, Dean dropping his spoon in the bowl. “Really? This is how it’s gonna be? I’ve been nothing but nice-”
“If this is you nice then I’d hate to see you mean.” You raised your chin, picking up the spoon. “I’ve always heard alpha’s protective instincts are unmatched. You can barely feel whatever this bond is and you’re so worked up-”
“I almost watched you die today.” You closed your eyes and sighed. A small noise made you open your eyes, Dean sliding a small white box over to you. You frowned, lips parting when you saw the newest iPhone inside. “I got you a phone on the account your other one was in your pocket when you took your artic dip. I rushed to the store before they closed. That is why I’m wet. I’d never want you to feel like you’re trapped here, especially when you can’t feel our ‘whatever bond.’”
“Thank you,” you said quietly. You ate in silence, the only sounds coming from the rain on the roof, the clanking of spoons and the quiet thrum of a soft rock station in the living room.
He seemed…stressed. Maybe you should wait for the morning to bring up what you’d found.
But you didn’t get the chance when he picked up and glanced at your notepad. Green eyes scanned over the pages before he gathered up everything you’d been working on.
And tossed it straight into the fireplace.
“Hey!” you shouted, rushing over as he stopped you in your tracks. He leered down, eyes dark. “That was-”
“You will delete everything you saved on that computer. Now.”
“You can’t-” He gripped your arm tight, so hard he was shaking it.
“Do it or I will make your life hell.” He released you, spinning you around towards the computer. You didn’t believe he’d hurt you. True mates were incapable of it. But you didn’t want to tempt him anymore than you already had.
Ten minutes later, your backup was gone and after a through examination by Dean, he took the computer and tossed it into the fireplace as well.
“I know you have questions,” he said quietly, back to you as the flames danced around the melting device. “I never should have gone hiking this morning. You caught my scent in the wind and-”
“Why would you go hiking in the pouring rain? It was raining this morning too. I had my coffee under the covered porch but it was coming down like bullets. No one would be out there willingly.” He turned and faced you, eyes roaming over your body, stuck on how his boxer briefs molded to your legs.
“In another life, we could have been happy. I would have given you everything you asked for. But not this one. I will keep you safe but that is all we are. We don’t get our happy ever after until we’re both dead.”
You swallowed, stepping into the living room, stopping a few feet away. “You hurt my arm just now.”
“I know,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again as long as you don’t do stupid things.”
You were getting angry again, Dean holding up his hands. “Stupid shit like try to know my new Alpha who just left me all alone? Sorry for trying to look up your damn social media. Asshole.”
Dean dropped his hands and went back to the fireplace, poking the computer with a poker, shaking his head.
“The more in the dark you are-”
“I’m a corporate forensic analyst, Dean,” you said, Dean’s shoulders stiffening. “Those notes on the computer? In that pad? Those articles? You can burn them all but it’s in my head. I don’t need the internet anymore to figure out what’s going on.”
“And what does your analysis tell you?” he grit out.
“Novi-Alpha is a cancer medication specifically for Alphas. But you don’t have it and never have. So why would an otherwise healthy Alpha take it? Well, it apparently has other uses that the public doesn’t know about…if you’re willing to live with the side effects. Side effects like knotting becoming a deadly activity to the person on the receiving end. The inability to feel your mate. Scent changes. And my personal favorite, if taken without the binding agent that’s given for cancer treatment, it changes your DNA coding without changing your DNA. Apparently law enforcement doesn’t want that news to get out there because it’s a bitch to catch people if they find out they can change their DNA on tests.”
You grabbed his arm and made him face you, a loud crack of thunder echoing in the room. Dean breathed calmly, eyes finding yours.
“Why are you taking medicine to change your DNA?”
“Because I did something bad, Y/N.” He got closer, pressing his chest to yours, forcing you to tilt your head. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Fingers brushed over your cheek, thumb swiping over the curve of it slowly. “Because your true mate is a monster. And once you know the truth, you’ll want to run away…and I don’t think I’m strong enough to let you go.”
The air was thick with his scent, dark yet pleasant. Painful even. You leaned into his touch, Dean’s green eyes widening ever so slightly.
“Novi-Alpha prevents Omegas from feeling their true mate. But I know you feel me.” You closed your eyes, breathing him in. “You have to tell me the truth eventually.”
“No I don’t,” he whispered. 
“You’ll tell me,” you said, opening your eyes, Dean’s hand sliding down to your mark. “Because I’m in danger if you don’t.”
He shook his head, pulling away from you. “Don’t pull that crap, Y/N. You’re safer not knowing.”
“Right. That’s why you burned everything just now.” He looked up, like someone else would magically tell him what to do. “You need to protect me. It’s your job. So you have to tell me the truth, Alpha. You have to.”
He laughed quietly, running a hand through his damp hair. “Using my title to get what you want. Manipulative. Maybe you were meant for me.”
“Dean-”
“The Ranger.” You raised your eyebrows at him, Dean wandering to the dark window.
“Uh, what? This is because you’re a forest ranger?” He laughed again, crossing his arms.
“No. I do that because…it’s a pretty isolated job. Small town work.” He looked to his right, a sad smile on his face. “The Ranger. That was my name when I had a different job.”
“That’s not a name…” you said, Dean shrugging. “What’d you do when you were The Ranger?”
He smirked, meeting your curious gaze. “Have you ever killed anyone?” 
He slowly stalked back to you, tilting his head. He leaned in close, glancing at your lips. “N-No, can’t say I have.”
“Ever kill an animal?”
“I hit a squirrel with my car once. I cried all night for that.” Dean rested his forehead against yours, his scent rolling off of him in powerful waves. “D-Do you hunt animals?”
“No.” He brushed his lips to the shell of your ear, his pulse strangely calm. “Now people, that’s a different story.”
_______
A/N: Read Part 2 here!
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hauntedwitch04 · 6 months
Text
Just a Mirror
Sam Winchester x plus size!Reader
Words: about 6.3k words
Warning: saddy sadness, and some allusion to sexy time, eating disorder, hating on your own person, please be careful if you sensible about this themes
REQUEST: Hi :) I saw that your requests are open, and I was wondering if you could do a Sam Winchester x plus sized reader; an angsty fluffy friends to lovers that has some smut and reader hating herself in the mirror and possibly problems with eating
Author’s note: Hi love! Thank you @desicroft02 so much for your request. I felt really inspired by your idea love and I hope you like how it came out, if you don't find yourself with what i wrote, feel free to say it to me and I'll write to you a new one !
p.s.I got very caught up in the topic, since it is something I feel very close to. I was never the skinny girl, but with the years I've grown used to feel different to others girls, and even if sometimes I really hate what I see in the mirror, I kinda arrived to the point that I see both the flaws and the strenghts of my body and I love both, but some of my closest friend and this kinda of disorder and I tried to help them the way aI could so this one is for them too.
In case you need someone to talk to, I am always here, don't be afraid to seek help because often having someone close by to remind you that the volume of that evil voice we hear inside can be lowered or eliminated is important.
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Why?
This is the only question that floats in your mind, while, with thick tears in your eyes, you try to read the enormous book about whatever monster you are hunting with your friends in this little city, forgotten by God.
You and your childhood best friends are hunting some monster that you still haven't been able to figure out what it is, despite the fact that you are reading yet another list of monstrous animals in the story, while Dean and Sam are still out at the bar where you had decided to spend the evening, and from which you had decided to escape as quickly as possible, without giving any kind of explanation to the two hunters, holding back tears and trying not to meet their confused gaze
You and the boys have been friends since you were six and they were seven and eleven. You met on a rainy October day when you were still living at Bobby's house, after your father had died in a hunting accident after leaving you with him, and being his friend and seeing him almost as a brother he couldn't help but welcome you and raise you as if you were his own daughter.
Dean and Sam had just been left in the rain on the narrow dirt road by their father when you looked out and saw these two cold, sad, and at the same time angry children. You could see the resentment they felt for the man who looked less and less like a father and more and more like an army general, ready to train soldiers and not raise children. Immediately you went to Bobby and told him of the presence of those two unknown children who were in your driveway. He had immediately run to get them and brought them inside the house, worried that they would get sick from standing in the rain, and wondering why their father had left them there, without saying anything.
"He said he didn't have time to explain and that he had to get there as fast as he could, but that he would call you this evening." Said the older of the two once they were seated on the couch in what must once have been a beautiful dining room, and was now more like an ever-growing mountain of books. It is to your adoptive father that you owe all the culture and ability to read texts on the supernatural that most hunters would not even know how to open.
As he spoke you could see the blond child trying to hold back the sadness within himself and show himself as a big boy, almost pretending to understand why his father abandoned them like that without saying a word; in contrast, the one who was supposed to be the smaller of the two, with unruly brown hair, looked more like a beaten puppy, as he wetly moved his feet lazily on the floor, listening to what his brother had to say, but not hiding his sadness and anger at his daddy's decision.
"Baby, couldn't you get Sammy a glass of water for him while Dean and I go make a call for a minute?" Bobby then asked you suddenly, and you realized that you were lost in thought as you watched and studied those boys. You nodded quickly, trying not to let it show that you had spent all that time staring at them, as you heard Bobby's voice and that of the blond boy, apparently named Dean, drift away, only to hear the front door open and close.
After a few minutes you returned to the living room with a glass in your hand, and walked over to the brown-eyed boy, who was now looking at you and smiling shyly. You handed him the glass with a beaming smile, and he could do nothing but blush a little and retract his body a little, letting shyness take possession of him as he took the glass.
"Thank you." He told you in a faint voice.
"You're welcome." You replied as you sat next to him on the sofa.
"My name is Sam." He said, only to freeze and blush again as he held out a hand for you to shake, just as grown-ups do. You told him your name, and he commented that it was a very nice name, and that he liked it a lot, before going back to being silent and staring into the sad void.
You not being able to see what you considered a new friend feel so bad, you shamelessly asked him why his father had left him there and if that was why he was sad. He turned to look at you, and unknown how, he burst into tears, while with his hands he covered his face, not wanting to be seen as weak with someone he had just met, but you didn't give a damn.
Immediately you hugged him and listened to him talk about how his father was behaving with them, how his brother was struggling more and more to hide that he was tired of his parent's behavior, and how he was lonely and sad, constantly changing towns and seeing nothing but his family. That poor seven-year-old seemed to be thirty years old because of the problems he was telling you about, and as much as you were even younger because you were only six, you felt like you could understand him, because for a while that had also been your life before your father passed away.
You remained thus cuddled on the couch and fell asleep, lulled by the warmth of the fire slightly away from you and the new friendly presence that had entered your lives that afternoon, so much so that when Bobby and Dean returned after trying for a varied amount of time to contact John, and finally once succeeding in being insulted and put down by him, they both smiled at the sight of those two small and defenseless children embracing each other, as if to protect each other from the world. But no one knew that night before you fell asleep you had promised to protect each other forever, no matter how, when or why you would always be there for each other.
That was how you got to know the Winchester brothers, and the hatred for their father also began.
You awaken from your thoughts when you hear the motel door open and close, realizing that another time had gone into the whirlwind of memories and you were lost in remembering again when life was easy. You hear someone coming toward you with heavy footsteps, so you wipe away the tears you didn't know were there on your cheeks, which like small streams had almost made a furrow along your skin by now.
You sense right away who it is, but you don't have the strength to turn around so you continue to cry silently as you feel two arms wrapped around you, and Dean's warm body resting on your back as he leans down so that he can put his head in the crook of your neck and hold you better. Ever since the two of you met it was immediately like big brother and little sister between the two of you, and even now despite the fact that it has been a long time since you were children and in your spare time you enjoyed stealing cherries from the neighbor's tree, there is still that complicity and understanding between the two of you that once existed.
He knows exactly why you escaped so suddenly from the dive bar you were both in a few hours ago. Sam had seen a beautiful girl, the classic cover model of some magazine, slim and with all her shape in the right place, taking a drink at the bar, looking seductively at him as she put the drink straw between her lips. Sam's hormones had not let him repeat twice that clear call to fuck directly in the bar's bathroom, a bathroom from which you were coming out as he was sticking his tongue down the throat of that fake and at the same time perfect babe, who in his arms looked so small and yet in the right place, toned against his strong muscles, as opposed to how you would have looked with your shapely body. You couldn't stand there and watch the boy you love for so long now make out with someone else, so without explanation you left and went back to the motel where you took two bedrooms for the case. Usually you take two rooms only when Dean wanted to find someone to take to bed, unlike Sam who kept his sex life much more private than his brother, but since he and Cas had come out a few months ago you had not taken the second room, having practically grown up together and thus having no problem sharing space. That night, however, when you had arrived in the small town Sam had insisted on taking a second room, and stubbornly had not told his older brother why when he had asked him, and somehow your heart was preparing for what would happen, but in fact nothing would totally prepare you for what you would see in that bar and how your heart would break.
Dean squeezes you tightly, as if he is afraid you will disappear at any moment, and that heartfelt squeeze only makes you break the weak dam you had built when you saw him come in, and you burst into endless weeping.
"I know baby, I know." That's all the blond man can manage to say to you, as he gets you up and carries you toward the bed, so you can lie down and take off your shoes, before coming close to you and holding you in his arms, until exhausted, you fall asleep safe in Dean's strong hold, while he whispers soothing words to you.
The next morning you wake up with the sun gently caressing your face from over Dean's shoulder. You smile for a second, imagining what it would be like to wake up in the other Winchester's arms, and soon after your heart, as if pierced by an arrow, bleeds at the memory of what happened last night. You get up, shifting your friend's arms, and go to the bathroom to wash and freshen up, when you hear the door to your room open, and a male voice, known even too well, shout to your still sleeping friend.
"Dean, wake up!" Sam yells, and you behind the door hold a hand over your heart, just imagining her beauty after her usual morning run to stay in shape. Her long dark hair tied back in a light bun, her forehead sweaty and muscles still tense from exertion.
"I'm awake, you asshole." Dean replies, as you hear him get up and go get some coffee. "You could have deigned to make less noise last damn night, you know there were people here who wanted to sleep."
You hear Sam snort at his brother's words, then respond to him in an aggressive, cold tone.
"Well then there are people who wouldn't want to see you run off to fuck wherever we go, hold hands all the time or make love wherever you are. And you know something else too Dean, I thought you were a better person. Why her? Come on you've had a lot of girls, and it wouldn't cost you anything to find a thousand more, why did you have to choose her!?" Says the younger brother, before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.
You close your eyes and try to control your breathing as you feel yourself lacking oxygen. You feel tears coming to your eyes, but you try with all your strength to push them back down. You take a few minutes to control your emotions as all you want to do is fall to the floor on your knees and scream until you can't hear yourself anymore, but you stay strong and open the door to see Dean immediately in front of you, looking pained and guilty, seeing your state.
"You didn't tell him." You say in a calm, quiet voice, not asking, but stating that your best friend had not told about his new relationship with our angel friend.
"I never found the right time." Dean tries to say, then looks down. "I never had the courage, every time I seemed to miss the words."
"Sam would never judge you, and you know that." You say as you feel a pang inside your heart, remembering the words the man you love had used a few minutes earlier. You feel your clothes sticking to your body like glue, too tight, so tight that you feel as if they have pre torn. You feel how the floor gives way under your feet, you feel how a billion eyes are on you ready to judge you, you feel something inside you break, but you can't let anyone but yourself see how mere words have hurt you, so you grit your teeth and continue to look at Dean stoically, as you feel a single and only tear escape down your face.
"I know, but I'm afraid in the same way, I don't want it to end like last time." Dean confesses, still looking at the floor, but crying clearly, as his words take you back to when you were nothing more than kids and he had come crying to you one night, confessing that he had fallen in love with a boy he had met during his last case, and that his father after finding out had beaten him so badly that his scars remained, and had forced him to watch pornographic movies, reminding him how "a real man acts." No one had ever seen you as angry as Dean, and Bobby when he heard you scream and came to watch that night as you swore to heaven that you would kill John Winchester. Dean had never told Sam about that episode, not wanting to worry him since he had just run away to study at Stanford, and asked you to do the same. It has been so long since that night, yet the memory of that pain and that man still frightens the wonderful person in front of you.
"But I swear I will. He has no right to think such things about you! I-I will tell him-" He begins to say, as he tries to wipe away the tears running copiously down his face. You, moved in turn and knowing that like you he too was remembering that fateful evening, take his face in your hands and bring his eyes to gaze fixedly into yours.
"No, you won't do it now, you will do it when you feel like it." You comment chuckling as you caress his face. He looks at you unconvinced and you see his inner battle inside whether to accept your proposal or to be as always too good and allow the world to kick him in the balls.
"Please be selfish for once. And if I serve as your cover, so be it, not that I would have had any chance with him anyway." You continue, smiling at him as you feel your heart slowly shatter. You see Dean ready to retort, but you have already disappeared back into the bathroom, crying silently. Once the bathroom door is closed, you stop to look at yourself in the mirror and realize how disgusted you feel about your body.
There is not a single thing about you that you like: your thighs, your arms, your stomach, your chest.
The more you look at yourself, the more you want to break that all-too-truthful mirror, which tells an unfiltered reality, a sad truth that for so long you had tried to ignore, but which now that Sam had spit it in your face you could no longer pretend not to see. So you decide at this very moment that everything was going to change, you don't know how, but it was going to happen.
So weeks go by, Sam still won't talk to you, and slowly you continue to sink into the stupid realization that he doesn't because only he, like you, can really see your body, and that he hates you for it, so now convinced that you have to change your body to be loved, you begin to eat less and less and more rarely, and what little you put in your mouth to make Dean happy, who sees you getting sadder and more tired, is rejected from your stomach just moments later when no one is looking at you. This situation hurts your body and your heart, but you do it so that you can look at yourself in the mirror without wanting to punch him, but things seem to get worse and worse. You look at yourself and you never fit, before you saw a body you didn't like, now beyond that you see a person you don't like.
Dean is getting more and more worried about you, seeing you getting paler and paler and thinner, but every time he tries to talk to you, you put on a smile and pretend that everything is going well and that the only reason your shirts now look huge on you is that you are working out more, but he knows that you never liked sports and that is why he knows you are lying to him. He tried to talk to Sam about what was going on, but all his brother managed to say by pouting was that if he needed relationship advice to go somewhere else and that he didn't want anything to do with the two of you.
Dean was on the verge of smashing the plate he was holding in his face and yelling at him to open his eyes and see that you love him more than Dean does right now and that he is fucking in love with their favorite angel, but then he had seen Castiel's face and knew he couldn't let him down after he asked him to keep a low profile and let as few people as possible know about their relationship.
Dean had never felt so lousy as deciding between the love of his life and a friend in need, but he knew that if you found out what he had done you would insult him, so he played it cool and moved on, as if nothing had happened, while he continued to try to take care of you, with little success.
It's been almost a month since Sam had said those horrible things, and you're not getting worse and worse, but in order not to show it in front of your friends, you keep doing the same things as before, trying to have the same cheerfulness.
You are now hunting a werewolf in a remote town in a state you don't even remember. Your body is weak, you haven't eaten anything Dean has brought you in the last three days taken at the various fast food restaurants and bars he had found along the way, and what little you had put in your mouth had gone down the drain shortly thereafter, hating yourself just for having the idea that you could eat something. You feel your eyelids as heavy as shutters, the muscles in your body are nonexistent, and what few are left ache from the mere effort of standing and walking, while your head throbs incessantly.
In this you are scouting around where the last victims had been killed, to see if you can find any more information, but so far you have not had much success, so you decided to split up.
You are barely holding the flashlight in your hand, too heavy for you, when you feel a sudden dizziness that forces you to lean against the wall. You stay a few minutes trying to catch your breath, eyes closed, breathing in the cool night air around you, when you hear a noise coming from a short distance away from you, like a dog growling. With difficulty you open your eyes and see before you a sight that is frightening to say the least: the werewolf you were looking for is looking at you ravenously, while a dark laughter rumbles from his belly to his mouth. Quickly you try to pick up the phone to call Dean or Sam, but unfortunately your mind is so clouded that you can't even do simple things like this and the phone slips out of your hands to the monster's feet.
"The Winchesters' little friend!" He says, seeing who you were trying to contact. "I've heard a lot about you, among the monsters you are known as their true weakness: so small and helpless, you wouldn't even survive my bite, I'll do you a favor and eat your miserable heart." He continues as he gets closer, and you do whatever comes to your chin at this moment, as you feel death coming slowly but comfortingly too, like an old friend you haven't seen in a long time. You scream Sam and Dean's name as loud as you can, hoping that at least one of them can hear you, your lungs aching from how much breath you had to use and your throat burning from the effort as you feel your strength failing.
You lean back against the wall again, this time with your back, and let yourself slide down to the floor, as your vision goes completely black and your ears become plugged as when you go too deep underwater, and the world seems more and more distant. You have one last flicker of life before you pass out completely in that dark alley, at the mercy of that monster, and you hear Sam's voice call out your name for a moment.
Your heart loses a beat, and then completely dark.
You awaken with a jump and a gasp as you sit up on the bed on which someone has carried you. Your head immediately begins to spin like a spinning top, and your vision fails again as you feel a warm hand settle on your shoulder and bring you back to lie down.
"Relax, you're safe now. It's okay." Says in a low, soft tone a rough voice, leading back to Sam. You, shocked to know he is there next to you, open your eyes with difficulty and find yourself lying on the bed in your room, in the bunker, as you see him kneeling beside your bed. His face shows the weariness he feels, but in his eyes shines a strange hope as he looks at you mixed with sadness. You place your gaze on the rest of the room and see your favorite chair, where you usually sit to read your books or do your research when you are tired of sitting in the library, covered with blankets and pillows, making you realize that your favorite giant has been sleeping there for what seems to be even more than a couple of days, otherwise everything looks the same, unchanged, and strangely everything now seems to make more sense with the presence of Sam and some of his things in the room. Immediately you slap yourself in the face at that thought, reminding yourself that he hates you, and that the reason he is here is because Dean will have had better things to do than watch you sleep.
You're about to tell him that he can leave, and leave you alone, knowing that he doesn't even want to be in the same room with you, as he has shown recently, and that in case his brother asks you, you won't tell him, but he beats you to the punch and starts talking.
"First of all I want to say I'm sorry, you don't even know how much, and I certainly understand if you never forgave me in your life, because I wouldn't forgive myself." Sam says, as you see tears forming in his eyes. You try to stop him, confused as to why he was making that speech, but he stops you in turn and begs you to let him finish.
"We found you just in time, by "luck," if you can call it that, that asshole had decided to torture you a bit before eating your heart, and we got there before he could do it, but when Cas touched you to treat you he said he didn't know if you would survive anyway because your body was too weak since you hadn't eaten for too many days. Dean insulted me and even beat me up a bit before explaining the matter from his point of view." You can't help but widen your eyes, and Sam chuckles seeing your expression, as two tears run down his face, and he darkens a little again before continuing, without looking you in the eye.
"Yes, he also told me about Cas, and also about that affair with our father to make me understand why you decided to cover for him."
You close your eyes for a moment, expecting a series of insults, but you only feel his lips rest on your hand, so you open them again and see him leaning over the bed, as you feel his tears coming hot to contact your cold hand.
"Thank you." The boy confesses in a whisper. "Thank you for everything you did for Dean, thank you for always taking care of him when I couldn't or was too blind and stupid to, I don't deserve to have you in my life."
You can't find the words, and so you do the only thing you can think of this moment, and you take his hand and squeeze it, while barely smiling at him.
"We will always have helped each other, you remember. Then Dean will be your brother, but it's like he's my brother too." You say as you pull his face up and force him to look into your eyes. You see him cry even harder, a few sobs escaping his lips, as he squeezes your hand even tighter.
"I'm sorry, I promised I would always protect you, and instead I was so stupid and jealous that I didn't realize what I was doing." He tells you again, only to stop for a moment and look at you this time with a resolve he lacked until a few seconds ago. "Why did you stop eating? How come you covered your mirror in the bathroom? Dean found the remains of the one from before in the garage, thought you didn't like it and got a new one, so he changed it for you."
Immediately you remember, one night in a rage after looking at yourself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, you had started punching it until it had become nothing but stardust under your bleeding fingers, and the next day when you had returned from your walk with the dog, you had found a new one, with a note from Dean who had said that seeing that you had taken it off, thinking that you didn't like it anymore, he had bought a new one, so realizing that you couldn't escape that vicious cycle and knowing that if it happened one more time it would arouse even more suspicion, you had simply covered it up, and hoped that no one would ever learn of that dirty secret, and instead, here it all was for all to see.
You look at Sam in those damned puppy-dog eyes of his, and burst into desperate weeping. He, seeing you in this state, instinctively picks you up and holds you in his arms.
"I disgust myself Sam." You finally manage to utter those damn words, and immediately you feel as if your soul lightens as you feel his arms grip your body even tighter as if you could disappear at any moment, and at the same time he does it with an innate delicacy, as if it were a precious crystal figurine that can be broken under his gaze. "I'm disgusted by my body, I'm disgusted by every single thing about me, and you're disgusted by it too, don't lie to me. I thought if I lost weight things would get better, but they don't, I feel worse and worse." You continue, while somehow trying to get away from him.
"In what sense would you disgust me? When would I have ever said such a thing?" He asks confusedly as he looks at you, tears have dried on his face. His eyes range and seem to want to imprint your every little detail in his memory. His gaze makes you blush as you try to find the words to tell him how his words have done nothing but unleash a storm that had long been locked up somewhere inside you and was just waiting to be released. So you take a deep breath and tell him everything, while he looks at you attentively and astonished, his arms still around his body, as if he needs reminding that you are there beside him, and that you are not just a product of his mind.
You tell him everything, every little thing you had felt hearing his words while you were locked in that damn bathroom, your feelings and emotions in the month to follow, along with all the thoughts and all the actions you had put in place in the hope that he would no longer hate you, and that maybe you would hate yourself less, too. He starts crying again, and hides his face in the crook of your neck.
You stay a few minutes clasped to each other, in silence, after you have poured your heart out in front of him, ready to suffer the consequences, when he takes your face in his hands and stares at you steadily with those chocolate-colored eyes of his, and for a moment you feel your breath short.
"Don't ever think of such a thing again. Never. You are perfect exactly as you are, there is nothing I would change about you, there is nothing I don't love about you." At his words you stand still, as if petrified, afraid that a single movement of yours could mean the breaking of this beautiful illusion. "Yes, I am tired of holding all this in, I love you, I love you so much that I am sick just thinking about not having you near me for a second, I love you so much that I would have been ready to kill my brother for stealing the girl I love all my life, I love you so much that I would be ready to climb the highest mountain in the world and scream it to everyone!" He continues as he stands up on the bed, and begins to move his arms quickly, just enough to make you laugh. At the sound of your laughter he turns to look at you, and smiles even more, to return next to you on his knees and cup your face in his hands. "I love every little, tiny thing about you madly. I'm crazy, crazy in love, and I was a fool because I was so convinced that getting away from you would be better for you, that I didn't realize that you were suffering because of me, and I'm sorry. On the one hand I would like to let you go and make you happy, but on the other hand I am an extremely selfish being and I only want you for myself." He continues as he rests his forehead on yours, whispering the last words. "I love you, and I'm sorry."
You look at him, and not even realizing what you are doing, you take his face in your hands and bring his lips to yours. The kiss you exchange arises as sweet and gentle, like two flames dancing in an elegant dance side by side, testing each other's reaction, in the same way your lips move over each other, slowly tasting that new sensation. You feel her soft lips caressing yours, until neither of you has a single breath left.
"I love you too if you hadn't realized it idiot." You comment making him laugh. "I love you, and for so long I would have preferred not to because it made me sick, yet I could do nothing but love you. The only reason that kept me alive was my love for you, even though it was also my poison." You continue by looking into his eyes, and you see the pain in his.
"If you forgive me, I will do everything to correct what I have done." He looks at you, with a penitent and pleading gaze, as he takes your hands in his, before you release one and place it on his right cheek, and he instinctively leans into your hands, seeking that simple contact.
"I've already forgiven you moron." She laughingly comments, before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him again, but this time the air in the room is different. The atmosphere becomes more erotic and intriguing. You feel his hands carefully explore your body, running his hands down your sides from your breasts to your butt, where he rests his large, warm hands, before slipping them under your T-shirt and caressing the skin of your back, making you shiver. You feel his hand rise higher and higher to the level of your bra and undo the hook that held it, but then he stops. Parting your lips he looks into your eyes for a second.
"If you don't feel up to it it's perfectly fine honey, we can stop here-"Sam says unsure, but you stop him.
"Afraid it's too much for you Winchester?" You ask as you raise your eyebrows, and see him smile, before resting his lips on yours, then creating a trail of kisses from your mouth to the chest exposed by the shirt you are wearing, down your neck.
"God, how I've missed you." He comments between kisses, but then stops again and looks at you seriously. "Anyway, I wasn't kidding myself, if you don't feel comfortable we can stop here."
You look at him, in his eyes only the pure affection and love you feel for him, and then put an end to all his doubts.
"I want to do it Sam." You say in a whisper as you take the bottom of his shirt with your hands and slowly slip it off, thus also dropping the bra he had unfastened a few minutes ago. "I want to do it with you Sam."
He looks at you and doesn't let you tell him twice, and he resumes his attack on your neck, leaving obvious signs of his passage, and then moves on to your breasts.
"God, you're perfect." He whispers before teasing one of your nipples. You moan softly at that sensation, feeling his teeth clench, his lips kiss and his tongue lick every single inch of your body, worshipping you like a goddess, a queen, tasting every inch of your skin.
This wonderful moment is interrupted, however, by the unannounced entrance of Dean, who, seeing the scene of his brother splayed across your body as he kisses your breasts, and with one hand explores the rest of your body, while you clutch his long hair in your hands, moaning his name shamelessly, lets out a small scream, before closing the door again.
"Damn you guys could warn." Comments the older brother, as Sam with speed grabs a blanket to cover you.
"Should we announce? You're the one who entered the room unannounced!" Sam replies in turn, making an expression that makes you laugh. "You can still come in now jerk."
"Bitch." Dean retorts, to open the bedroom door again and have a stupid grin plastered on his face. "So, I see Sam hasn't exactly figured out how to talk and resolve a situation, usually the mouth should be free to talk, not busy sucking-"
"You try to say one more Winchester word and I'll tell everyone about Christmas with Cindy McWood." You threaten him, and see him whiten, before his smile returns to its former self.
"Well what can I say in that case guys, good conversation and be sure to use protection, I'm not ready to be an uncle." He says closing the door behind him, then opening it again. "Not that I wouldn't make a great uncle, but I would say I'm too young and then-"
"Out!" You and Sam scream in unison, and the only thing Dean does is give you the finger before walking away. The two of you stand still for a moment weighing what just happened and burst out laughing, before Sam's lips find yours again.
"Where were we?" He asks you next, and you can't help but smile and moan at feeling his lips on you again.
It's shaping up to be a very interesting night, long but interesting, and you know that in the end maybe by tomorrow morning you can slowly look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the reflection of the man you love behind you supporting you.
TAGLIST
@supernatural-lvr @itzdarling @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @evansstan-akya
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cheerfulripley · 7 months
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I'm debating participating in NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month in November, 50k in 30 days) but I'm torn on what to work on!!
Help meeeeeeeee
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zepskies · 1 day
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Series Masterlist - Every Second Counts
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Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him. 
Song Inspo: "Machine" by Amber Run
AN: Here we are! The continuation series of A Line and a Half. Think of that story as a prologue, if you will. Because this road's about to get bumpy...
Series Tags/Warnings: (**18+ only!) Eventual smut, mentions of drug addiction, PSTD, blood and violence, hurt/comfort, and plenty of feels.
Chapters:
Prologue: A Line and a Half
Part 1: Permission Granted - COMING 6/12!
Part 2: Family Reunion
Part 3: Timer Starts Now
Part 4: Mountain Man
Part 5: Damn Worth It
Series coming soon...
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Support Me on Ko-Fi ☕
Russell Shaw Masterlist
Main Masterlist
RS Tag List:
Comment below if you'd also like to be tagged in this series!
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007
@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373
@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum
@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady
@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy
@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad
@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73
@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj
@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways
@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato
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deanstockwellgal · 5 months
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Dean playing the piano in Snowy River, pt 3.
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lila-lou · 4 months
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✨Broken✨
Summary: Dean made a huge mistake and had to deal with the consequences.
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Language, angst, hurt, -but some fluff in between
Word Count: 1882
A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
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“Goodbye, Dean Winchester”, you giggled as you briskly turned towards your front door. Dean gave you the biggest Smile you had ever see on anyone's face. He shook his head in amusement, his eyes shining. “You’re something else (y/n)”, he chuckled and continued grinning while opening the door of his car. “Oh, you fucking bet!”, You winked at him before parting ways. At least for tonight.
Just a Date. One single date. A single evening. Without sex, without kissing. It only took four hours for you to fall head over heels in love with him. Four hours of your laughter, your sparkling eyes and your sassy jokes were all it took for Dean to fall head over heels in love with you.
3 missed calls.
6 missed calls and 2 messages.
13 missed calls and 8 messages.
"Just leave me alone!", you cursed, throwing your phone in the corner of your dingy motel room as tears steadily streamed down your cheeks. You sat on the floor with your face in your arms and your legs bent, leaning your back against the creaky bed. You never imagined that you would be sitting here like a heap of misery, crying your eyes out. Not because of your fiancée. Not because of Dean.
The two of you had been together for 6 years, engaged for a year and were actually planning on getting married in two months. You had come to terms with his lifestyle, his living situation and all the dangers, the monsters and all that shit that came with his way of life. You sacrificed everything normal for this man… and for what?
Dean was the love of your life and until three days ago you thought he felt the same way, but you were obviously wrong.
8 missed calls.
12 missed calls and 8 messages.
16 missed calls and 18 messages.
You immediately regretted it when you looked at your phone after a way too long shower. Not just because of all the messages and missed calls, but also because of your wallpaper. It showed the happiest moment of your life. A photo Sam had taken shortly after Dean put an engagement ring on your finger. You camped in the mountains of Montana. Dean had waited for the most beautiful sunset of all and proposed to you in front of a beautiful, large lake. As the two of you lay hugged in front of the campfire in the twilight, Sam took advantage of your inattention to take this great snapshot.
“It suits you”, Dean stroked your slim fingers. “It´s beautiful”, you whispered, barely audible, your voice trembling slightly. Your back was pressed against his chest and you were sitting between his legs. With sparkling eyes, you turned to him and looked him in the eyes. “I love you”, you whispered. “I love you”, he replied, just as lovestruck as you. You were so sweet and cheesy that even Sam felt sick at the sight of you two.
As said, the most beautiful and happiest moment of your life.
Wearing only a towel, you sat down on the bed and looked at your hand with the ring. Was it all just lies? Was he that good at hiding his true self?
You had already forgiven him for so much and overlooked so much. Even when he almost killed you as a demon, you didn't stop loving him.
But it was different now.
“Dean… you really up for this? I don’t know if this is such a good idea“, you mumbled as you got out of the shower together 10 days ago. "If not now, when? (y/n), I love you. I couldn't imagine a future with any other woman and I'm sure we would be great parents. Please Sweetheart, give it a shot. Or better yet, let me get to take a shot”, he wiggled his Eyebrows, before taking your hands in his.
“Please, Baby”.
You looked at him doubtfully and there was silence for a few minutes before you took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s try for a little Dean then”, you sighed, still a little hesitant. It was the second biggest smile you'd ever had to see on Dean's lips. His arms wrapped around your body, almost crushing you as he spun you through the air once before carrying you to your bedroom.
You looked at the clock and started getting dressed. It was time to leave the motel and move on. You didn't know where to go yet. You didn't know how long either. What you knew was that you needed space.
Distance from everything and everyone.
You still hoped that Dean had been possessed, hexed or cursed in some way, but based on his and Sam's texts, that was obviously not the case. Drunk, yes. However, nothing more.
You've been gone for four weeks now. Four weeks in which you didn't let anyone hear from you, in which you were constantly on the move so no one could find you and four weeks in which Dean slowly but surely became sick from worry.
"Dean!", Sam knocked on his older brother's door. Dean hasn't come out of his room in three days except to pee. He didn't eat anything, he didn't talk, he just vegetated.
“Come on, buddy. You have to eat something! Starving won't bring her back either”. After fifteen minutes, Sam left the plate in front of Dean's door with a sigh and went back into the kitchen to eat his burger.
Two more days passed before Sam took advantage of his brother's pee break to push him against the bathroom wall with his forearm on his throat. "What the hell is wrong with you! Dean, I know (y/n) meant a lot to you, but look at you!", Sam snapped at his brother. Sam was actually the quieter of the two, but he couldn't see how much Dean was letting himself go. He had probably already lost at least 15 pounds, stopped shaving and was basically just a wreck.
With a firm tug, Dean released himself from Sams grip and looked at him angrily.
“You don´t know shit! I lost her, Sammy! I fucking broke her heart and lost the best thing that ever happened to me. You didn't see her eyes. Shit, how could I be so stupid", Dean's voice grew louder and he found himself angrily punching a hole in the wooden bathroom door. “Fucking shit”, he rubbed his face hard as his knuckles bled. Sam sighed before pulling his brother into a tight hug. Of course, Dean fought back at first, but he was just too weak and too sad, so he allowed it, while a few tears ran down his cheeks.
It took another two days before Sam finally got Dean to shower. A week until he was eating somewhat normally again. Two weeks until he came out of his room again. Three until he went hunting again for the first time. But even after a total of 9 weeks, no smile found its way onto his face.
Just like with you.
Nevertheless, you had to overcome yourself, gather all your courage and push open the heavy iron door of the bunker.
You did your best to go downstairs quietly, but Sam, who was about to go jogging, spotted you immediately.
“(y/n)!”
Even though it was tearing you up inside to be here again, you gave Sam a small smile.
“Hey”, you murmur, letting him hug you tightly once you reach the bottom. You couldn't stop your eyes from glazing over. “I missed you, little one”. Sam kissed your head before letting you out of his embrace and studying you. You looked absolutely exhausted and tired.
It took him a few seconds to find his voice again. “He´s in the garage”, Sam said quietly, looking at you with pity. “I’m... just here to get my things”, you cleared your throat and started to walk towards your shared room, but Sam gently held your arm. “I know he made big mistakes (y/n). And I definitely don't want to protect him. You have every right to leave him, but please tell him you're okay. Please let him say goodbye to you”. Sam’s voice was gentle and soothing, but even his compassionate words, for both Dean and you, didn’t change your broken heart. “I… I can’t, Sam”, you slowly pulled your arm away from him.
“(y/n)... please. It breaks him... Please... He's my brother”.
With tears in your eyes, you shook your head and wrapped your arms around your body. "I'm sorry Sammy. I wish you nothing but the best”, you somehow tried to smile before going into your old room.
When you got there, you were briefly surprised to find no chaos. The room has never been as tidy as it is now, but your heart has never hurt as much as it does now when you look at your bed.
With tears streaming down your cheeks and quiet, barely audible sobs escaping your throat, you grabbed the few things you had from the room.
Carrying a large, fully-packed bag, you looked at the picture of yourself on Dean's nightstand, you swallowed hard and walked out the door, your back first as you pulled the door shut. You wiped away your tears with your free hand as you felt something hard against your back.
“(y/n)”.
His voice gave goosebumps all over your body. It was so deep, rough, scratchy. Emotionally charged. Full of regret and sadness. And yet you heard a glimmer of hope. Maybe you wanted to hear that too. Who knows.
You both stood rooted to the spot for a few seconds until Dean tried to turn you around with his hand on your waist, but you immediately slapped his hand away.
“Don’t fucking touch me! Don’t you dare touch me ever again!”, you hissed loudly. Tears immediately welled up in your eyes again. Dean didn’t flinch at your reaction. He wasn't surprised and couldn't blame you. His eyes also slowly filled with tears when he saw the bag over your shoulder.
Dean wanted to take you in his arms, hold you close to him and never let you go. He wanted to show you how much he loved you, show you what a big mistake he had made, prove to you that something like that would never happen again. He would do anything to make up for what he did to you. You were his everything. The love of his life. He wanted to build a future with you. He wanted to have a baby with you. A family. You were his world.
But when he saw the bitterness through all your tears, he knew he had lost. The curtain closed. That's it. The end. He had destroyed everything.
“I love you (y/n)”, he whispered, barely audible.
“You never did”, you replied with a dry throat, taking his hand and placing your engagement ring in it.
"Goodbye Dean Winchester".
———————————
A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 Again, I'm thinking about writing a second or even third part. I guess I just can't stick with one-shots ._.
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e-dubbc11 · 5 months
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you said you could be persuaded to write about dean sooooooooo what about retired dilf dean? 🤔
My dear sweet Selene, it’s very hard for me to say no to you. 🤣 I came up with a little something for DILF Dean Winchester. I hope you like it, thank you for challenging me, my lovely friend ♥️♥️♥️
Carrying On
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Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.
Pairing: Dad Dean Winchester x F! Reader
Warnings: Couple of swear words, fluff, mentions of readers father’s death, smooches, a little hunter violence
Word Count: 1.7K-ish
Summary: You just bought a house in a new state, trying to see if you can move on after your father’s untimely death. Your neighbor introduces himself and already you’re feeling more at home
A/N: So this is my first time writing for Dean, dear god I hope it doesn’t suck. I wanted to write more for this but I still have asks in my inbox for my sleepover I need to get to(I’m trying my hardest to answer them all, I thank you all for your patience.) I’d even be willing to do another part for this because I had fun writing this one! I hope you like it! ♥️
As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕
The house was at the end of a nice quiet street. Your suitcases were piled high in the back seat, almost too high to see out the rear window but it wouldn’t be for much longer. It will be nice to finally stretch your legs after being in the car for such a long drive.
When you pulled into the driveway, you noticed that the “For Sale” sign had been removed from the front lawn. This was your home now and you were determined to live your life as normal as possible from now on.
After your father passed away, you left the flat lands of Oklahoma for the mountains of Colorado. There was just something about that cool mountain air. But you didn’t want to live IN the mountains, you didn’t want to be alone so moving into a neighborhood NEAR the mountains was a good compromise.
A man and, what you assumed to be, his young son were playing catch in the front yard. The boy tossed the baseball to his father but the man wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy looking at your car which happened everywhere you went.
You and your father had rebuilt that car and restored it to its former glory. It was your dream car…a 1967 Pontiac GTO in midnight blue. The way the paint reflected the light, the car almost looked purple. It was a gorgeous car.
The car in your neighbor’s driveway was impressive also. It was a 1967 Chevy Impala, black.
“DAD!! You missed!” The boy shouted.
“Hold on, son. You see that car? She must be our new neighbor. Let’s go say hello.” The man said.
Reaching for the sky, you stretched until some of the tightness in your shoulders went away. You then saw your new neighbor.
“Fuck me.” You whispered under your breath.
He was very handsome with medium brown hair, a well-groomed beard, and green eyes. As he came closer, you saw a splash of freckles across his nose and his young son was a carbon copy of his father.
You smiled warmly as they came closer.
“Hi there! I’m your new neighbor. I’m y/f/n y/l/n.”You extended your hand to shake his.
After you introduced yourself, the man had a slightly confused look on his face that quickly disappeared.
He extended his hand for you to shake. “I’m Dean and this is my son Charlie.”
“It’s really nice to meet you.” You said.
Charlie interjected himself. “Dad missed the ball because he was staring at your car.”
“Charlie…” Said Dean through clenched teeth.
“Ah, well I do get that a lot. You wanna sit in it?” You asked.
Charlie’s eyes went wide. “Sure!”
You opened the car door so Charlie could sit on the driver’s side.
Dean pointed at the car. “That is a nice car. ’69?” He asked.
You bit down on your lower lip to keep from smiling. “It’s a ’67 actually, like your Impala.”
“Impressive…I don’t know a lot of women that would know that to look at it.” He said.
“Well, we do exist.” You said, a little sarcastically.
Dean smiled at you and said softly. “Yes, I guess you do.”
When he realized he was staring, he quickly snapped out of the trance he was in.
“Um, yeah so um, do you have furniture coming or anything? I’m happy to help.” He said.
“Oh the moving truck is coming tomorrow so I just have the bare essentials for tonight. Thank you for the offer, I may take you up on that.” You said.
“Well, we’ll let you get settled. Just knock when the truck comes…Charlie!! Come on, let’s let y/n settle in to her new house.” Said Dean.
As they walked away, you heard Charlie tell his dad, “Dad, you were staring at her.”
Dean narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow. “No I wasn’t…get the ball.”
“Yes you were, Dad. I saw you.” Said Charlie.
You shook your head back and forth then smiled. They both seemed really sweet.
Three Months Later
You had settled nicely into your new home. The final box had been unpacked and you were adjusting to your new surroundings and your new neighbors. Although there was something that bothered you about Dean’s house.
Every so often, not a lot but every now and again, you noticed that the basement light would flicker. It wasn’t all the time but when it did, it was always at the same time, which you thought was strange.
Everything else seemed to be fine so you didn’t look too closely at it.
You really did like Dean and you adored Charlie. They were your friends, so you contemplated, at least telling Dean about your past, how your father really died, and why you left your home state.
One Saturday morning, all of the windows were open and you could hear music coming from their house. It sounded like…Asia – Heat of the Moment.
You giggled a little bit and thought to yourself, “Really Dean, Asia?”
Dean had a deep booming voice.
“Rise and shine, Charlie!!” He said, loudly but playfully.
After doing some housework, you heard a knock on your door. Walking down the hall from the bedroom into the kitchen, you saw Dean standing at the side door through the screen. He was leaning against the door frame.
“Hey there. What can I do for ya?” You asked, opening the screen door.
“Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner tonight? I thought maybe we could tell Charlie, um…well, about us.” He said, shyly.
Charlie didn’t know that about a month after you moved in, you and Dean started to hang out with each other after he went to sleep.
He’d come over for a drink, sometimes a movie, or a lot of the time, the two of you would just talk, and the relationship just sort of happened.
Charlie’s mom had passed away three years ago and it had just been the two of them since then. Obviously you weren’t trying to get in the way of their relationship and you DEFINITELY weren’t trying to replace his mom but you really did like the both of them and Charlie deserved to know the truth…they both did.
You snaked your arms around Dean’s neck, let your fingers run through his soft brown hair, and leaned in to kiss him. The bristles of his beard tickled your chin and you smiled in between his kisses. You really were smitten with him.
“I’d love to…I’ll bring you guys a special dessert.” You said.
A shy smile extended across Dean’s face. “Awesome…oh and I’m not much of a cook so I hope you’re ok with burgers. Alright? Ok, good talk.” He said, as he smacked you on the ass and turned around to walk back home.
You were going to come clean tonight.
Walking over to Dean’s, you remembered the first time you saw the last name on the mailbox…Winchester. Dean Winchester. All hunters knew that name, that family, his brother Sam, their father John, and their mother Mary.
They were famous in the world of hunting. Your family name stayed under the radar. Sure, you and your dad had some pretty big hunts and cases but nothing compared to the Winchesters.
Charlie answered when you knocked.
“Y/n!!!” He said, excitedly.
“Hey buddy!” You replied.
Charlie saw you holding the pie in your hands.
“Oh you brought Dad’s favorite.” He said.
“I did? Well I hope you guys like it, I made it from scratch.” You said.
“Dad’s always eating pie…he’s out back, come on!” He said, tugging on your t-shirt.
The three of you had a nice dinner together filled with a lot of laughs and you breathed a sigh of relief when Charlie said he was ok that you were his dad’s girlfriend.
The child like smile Dean had on his face as he was about to taste the pie made you smile. Before he could take his first bite, the lights flickered.
He looked up at the kitchen light as it continued to flicker. “Son of a bitch.” He boomed.
“Dad, language!” Shouted Charlie.
“Not now, Charlie.” He growled.
You stood up and backed away from the kitchen table. “Where’s the salt, Dean?” You asked.
“What? How do you--?” He started to say.
“The salt, Dean…NOW!!!” You shouted.
Dean got the bag of salt from underneath the kitchen sink and you had Charlie stand in an open area in the dining room, while his dad drew a salt circle around him. Then he pulled out two shotguns from underneath the couch in the living room filled with rock salt.
“Charlie…buddy, don’t move from this spot, do you understand?” You asked him, looking into his scared eyes.
He nodded.
Standing back to back, holding the shotguns, Dean asked, “Is there something you wanna tell me?”
As fast as you could, you explained yourself. “Ok, so I come from a family of hunters too, nothing like yours of course but I left Oklahoma after my father died saving me from a nest of vampires. It was just me and him, my whole life and when he died, I felt like I couldn’t hunt without him.” You said.
Low moans and hisses were emanating through the walls as the lights continued to turn on and off.
“I can’t believe you’re a hunter. That’s why when you introduced yourself, your name sounded familiar to me!” Shouted Dean.
Charlie stood petrified inside the salt circle. “Dad, what’s going on?”
“It’s alright, buddy. We’re gonna be alright.” Said Dean.
Two apparitions came through the wall and headed straight for you when you blasted them with rock salt.
“Are y-you m-mad?” You asked, while trying to catch your breath.
“Mad? I’m only mad that I didn’t get to eat my pie! As far as you being a hunter, well…I gotta say I’m a little turned on.” He said.
In the middle of a life or death situation, Dean managed to make you blush.
“What does that mean, Dad?” Asked Charlie.
In unison, you and Dean yelled, “Not now, Charlie!”
“When we’re done with this, we’re gonna have a talk.” Dean pointed his finger at you.
“But you’re not mad?” You asked with a slight smile.
Dean smiled at you, his bright green eyes looked like fresh blades of grass as he leaned in to kiss your forehead.
“Nah, I’m not mad sweetheart. Now let’s kill these things so I can eat my pie.”
Tagging: @munsonownsmyass @gijos
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hunterscabin · 1 year
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Fever
Request: Hi! I love your writing :). Could you write one where the reader has a really high fever, increased heart rate (like Sam in the one episode) and the brothers have to bring it down and take care of her. - Anonymous
Pairings: Dean x Reader; Sam x Reader
Warnings: Sick reader; hurt/comfort; fluff; the tiniest pinch of angsty Sam 
Word Count: 1.8k
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"Is she getting ready for a hunt or a date?" Dean paced in front of the Impala while fiddling with his gun. "These werewolves aren't gonna kill themselves."
Sam let out a soft chuckle. Dean wasn't a patient man, but he had a particularly hard time waiting on you. "I'll go see what's taking her so long."
"Y/N?" Sam called for you down the hallway. "Dean's getting antsy." He reached your room and knocked loudly. "Normally I'd enjoy watching him squirm, but we've got a head start on this pack. We should really get going."
When you didn't respond, Sam checked to see if the door was locked. It wasn't, so he nudged his way in to find you buried under your covers. "Y/N! What are you still doing in bed?"
You turned your head toward the door with a groan. Sam's tone softened when he saw your complexion.  
"Are you okay?" Sam asked, walking toward your bed.
"I think it's the flu." The simple act of rolling over had the room spinning, and you squeezed your eyes shut to quell the nausea.
Sam moved his hand to your forehead and was surprised by how warm you felt. "You're burning up."
"I don't think I'm going to be much help today."
Sam knelt down to see his own puppy dog eyes looking back at him. He rubbed his thumb across your forehead and gave you a sympathetic smile. "I'll be right back."
Sam returned with a glass of water and some cold medicine. He helped you sit up and handed you two small pills. You took them quickly and set the glass of water on your nightstand.
"Dean's gonna be pissed," you remarked nervously, as you nestled back into your mountain of pillows.
"Don't worry about Dean," he assured, tucking you in. "I’ll take care of him.”
You watched through hazy eyes as Sam disappeared into the bathroom to wet a washcloth. He came back, crouching next to the bed, and placed the cool towel on your forehead. You sighed at the small relief it provided.   
“We should be back in a few hours.” Sam picked up your phone from the nightstand and gave it a wave before placing it next to your pillow. “Call if you need anything"
You responded with a weak smile. Sam switched off your lamp and stood to leave. He turned back as s he closed your bedroom door and saw that you were already sleeping. 
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"I'm gonna get cleaned up and then check on Y/N." Sam dropped his muddy boots by the door.
"Tell her she missed a good one." Both men were covered in the evidence of their successful hunt. “Let me know if I can get her anything.” Dean gave his brother a hearty clap on the shoulder and turned to his bedroom. 
A quick shower and a clean pair of clothes later, Sam was outside your room. Not bothering to knock, he pushed the door open and leaned against the frame.
"Feeling any better, Y/N/N?" Sam whispered. When you didn't say anything, he tried again, raising his voice. "Y/N/N?" 
Growing concerned at your silence, Sam moved into your room, his long legs closing the distance between you in three easy strides. When he reached the bedside table, he turned on the lamp. In the light, he could see a thin layer of sweat covering your face and neck. 
"Y/N." Sam lifted his hand to your forehead and was alarmed to find that your fever had worsened. When you didn't so much as stir at his touch, Sam started to vigorously rub your arm. "Y/N/N!"
Sam placed his fingers on your neck. Your heart rate was rapid, and in checking your pulse, he noticed your breathing was shallow. He tried to rouse you once more and when you still didn’t respond, panic rolled through him in waves.
“Dean!”
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Dean had just shrugged a clean flannel over his shoulders when he heard Sam yell his name from the other side of the bunker. He immediately took off, haphazardly fastening buttons as he ran down the hallway. Dean heard his name a second time and followed his brother’s voice to your room. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of Sam hovered over you, trying to shake you into consciousness.
"She won't wake up." Sam's voice lilted in fear. 
Dean marched toward the bed, moving Sam aside. He cupped your cheek and winced at the heat radiating off of you.
"Y/N!" Dean shouted gruffly. He knew his attempt was in vain, but he was still heartbroken when you didn't respond.   
"Sammy, we have to get her fever down." Dean pressed two fingers to your neck, confirming what Sam already knew. "Her heart rate is way too high."
Dean ran through their limited options before instructing Sam to run a bath. Sam darted toward your bathroom without question.
"Not too hot, not too cold." Dean instructed at the sound of running water. 
"I've got it, Dean." Sam’s tone was strained and agitated. 
Dean pulled off your covers. The cool air hitting your damp skin was enough to stir you into a state of semi-consciousness. You let out a long moan. 
“Y/N?” Dean held your face in his hands, willing your eyes to open. 
You leaned into his touch but could only respond with another whimper. Dean sighed in defeat. 
“I’m right here, Y/N/N.” Dean soothed, gathering you in his arms. “I’ve got you.”
When Dean entered the bathroom, Sam quirked his head in apology. Dean nodded knowingly; whenever you were hurt or in pain, they were both on edge.  
You let out another groan and Sam immediately stood to check you. 
"Is she awake?"
"Barely." Dean shifted you in his arms and motioned for Sam to take you. 
Not wanting to embarrass or expose you, the brothers kept you in the tank top and sleep shorts you were wearing. Dean cuffed his jeans and straddled the side of the bathtub, one foot submerged in the water and the other securely planted on the tile floor. Once his brother was positioned, Sam gently lowered you into the tub. Dean leaned forward to help support you.
As soon as your body made contact with the water, your teeth began chattering and your intermittent whimpers became a steady cry. Both brothers could feel your body tense, and they grew concerned about your already racing heart. 
“You’re okay, Y/N/N.” Sam palmed your cheek. “Can you open your eyes for me?”
It felt like someone had replaced your eyelids with steel doors, and the energy it took to try and open them made you nauseous. When your Y/E/C eyes finally appeared, they were met with Sam’s relieved face.
“Hi, baby girl.” Keeping his eyes on you, Sam took his hand from your cheek and grabbed a washcloth. He dipped it in the lukewarm water before wringing it out with both hands.
You were becoming more alert with each passing moment, and seeing Sam at the other end of the bathtub made you realize that he wasn’t the one keeping you upright. In any other instance you would have immediately assumed Dean was behind you, but the fever had made you incoherent, and your normal instincts were inaccessible. Anxiety swept through you at the thought of being held by a stranger in your vulnerable state, and you began to fight against Dean.
Sam saw you crane your neck to see who was behind you and understood your confusion.
“Y/N,” he dropped the washcloth and grabbed your hands, “Y/N/N, look at me. You’re okay. It’s Dean.” 
“It’s me, sweetheart.” Dean shifted so that you could see him. “It’s just me.”
It took you a moment to register Dean’s face, but once you knew it was him, you let out a shaky breath and relaxed into his arms. 
“That’s my girl.” Dean leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, relieved to feel that your feverish skin was cooling. “I’ve got you.”
Sam grabbed the floating washcloth and ran it over your face and arms. He stopped momentarily to check your pulse. The steady beat of your heart on his fingertips reassured him, and he nodded to Dean that the bath was helping. 
Once he was satisfied with your temperature, Dean lifted you out of the tub and placed you in his brother’s arms. Sam wrapped you in a warm towel and held you close before sitting you on the stool in front of your vanity. 
"Y/N?" Your tired eyes met his. "Do you think you can get yourself out of these wet clothes?"
You mumbled incoherently but found the strength to pull yourself to your feet. You gripped the counter top, and Sam helped steady you while you found your balance. 
"I'm going to hang your robe on the door." Sam closed the door and stood vigilant on the other side, ready to charge back in at the first sign of any distress. 
Gravity’s hold prayed on your weakened state, and every step, every reach was painfully exhausting. Time felt as languid as your movement, but after much effort, your wet clothes laid in a heap on the floor, and you had almost successfully wrapped yourself in your robe.
Thinking you had been quiet for too long, Sam knocked on the bathroom door, and you gave a small hum, letting him know he could enter. He opened the door to find you fumbling with the terry cloth belt.  
"Let me help, Y/N/N." His voice was soft and comforting. Once he secured the knot, he lifted you in his arms and carried you back into your room. 
Your head lolled to find Dean tucking clean sheets under the mattress. He smiled at the sight of you in Sam's arms, snuggled in your fluffy robe. 
"Thank you, Dean." you murmured. 
"Anytime." Dean winked as he pulled back the comforter, and Sam sat you on the edge of the bed. Dean handed Sam two small pills and a fresh glass of water. You took the medicine from Sam's hand, and he brought the water to your lips. 
A shiver ran through your body, and Sam lifted the collar of your robe before easing you onto your pillow and pulling the covers over you.
“Sammy?” Sam smiled, thankful that you’d regained enough strength to speak. “Stay, please.”
“Of course.” Sam brushed the hair away from your face and dropped a kiss on the top of your head before moving to sit in your reading chair.
“You too, De.”
“I’m right here, sweetheart.” Dean sat down on the trunk at the end of your bed and reached up to rub your leg.  
Their comforting presence allowed you to relax, and you quickly surrendered to sleep. No illness could compete with the love of Sam and Dean Winchester.
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