#Angelina’s Duets Reboot Challenge

[plaidstiel-wormstache]

Got a Good Feeling

This is a late entry for @atc74​‘s challenge - #Angelina’s Duets Reboot Challenge. Prompt: Something Bad - Miranda Lambert ft Carrie Underwood Word Count - 5454 Summary - Sam and Dean head to a bar for a night off, maybe they’ll get lucky, and who’s to say they won’t meet their matches? Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Fem!Reader, Carrie (OC). Warnings: gambling, fraud, potential violence, sex (nsfw) A/N: This is unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own (let me know if there’s a big one so I can fix it). There’s a mix of points of view, I’ve separated the scenes by ***

The eight ball spun towards the pocket, everyone seemed to be holding their breath, and then it bumped the corner and stopped short, almost resting on the precipice. “Fuck,” YN muttered. The bulky jock laughed out loud, an overly confident noise. He had to be compensating for his lack of skill… and maybe something else. “Double or nothing!” He announced, looking at YN, her grip on the pool stick tightening. She thought about it, glanced towards the bar and held up two fingers and then returned her attention to the jock. “Double or nothing,” She agreed, downing the last gulp of her beer. The jock looked a little surprised but nodded all the same, squared his shoulders and lined up his shot. The striped four ball was the last he needed to sink before moving on to the easy shot. He ripped back and pumped his arm, sending the four spinning. It didn’t look pretty, but it dropped into the pocket with the weight of his willpower. 

“What’s double for you sweetheart? I’ll take a night instead,” He laughed loudly when YN scrunched up her nose. She took a deep breath in and glanced towards the bar, waiting for him to focus his attention on the pool table again. “Where are those drinks?” She called out, holding up her hands in apology when the jock raised his pool cue from the table, leveling a heavy gaze at her for trying to distract him. He did a few practise moves and then pulled back, leaning heavy on the table, everyone around holding their breath, again.

Suddenly there was an outburst of noise and movement as the bartender smacked into his back, splashing the tray of drinks onto his shirt, someone nearby catching her before she fell over completely. “Whoa!” YN called along with everyone else standing around. “What the fuck!” The jock exploded, having scraped the cue along the table, connected with the white ball only for it to roll an inch. “Easy dude,” One of his friends tried to calm him down. “I just lost everything ‘cause of this dumb slut.” The guy yelled. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, let me get you a drink on the house.” She tried to make up. “Sorry? Do you know how much a porsche costs?” He was going red in the face and this bartender was now bending to pick up the glasses, ignoring him. “Hey! I’m speaking to you!” He yelled again, reaching for her, and before YN could launch herself over the pool table to stop him, a handsome man stepped in and caught his arm. He was tall and broad, a match for the aggravated jock. “You gonna hit her?” He accused, staring the jock down, his arm still held tight in this guy’s hand. “No I was gonna--!” The jock tried to wrench his arm out of the man’s hold, but this guy had a vice like grip. YN watched in awe as the sandy-haired man in  the well-worn canvas jacket put the jock in his place. She was almost too enthralled to notice the bartender being escorted towards the bar by an even taller man, his hair long, his shoulders broad, he’d be very intimidating if it wasn’t for the kindness in his eyes. 

“Give the lady her money and get out.” The tall guy growled, still holding the jock’s arm. “She hasn’t--” YN lined up the white ball easily and tapped it, landing the black and keeping the white just out of the pocket, then looked up with a grin on her face. She winked at the jock and held out her hand. “I believe that’s the porsche, sweetheart!” She threw the name back at him, fluttering her eyelashes. The jock snarled, literally snarled, at her. The man must’ve squeezed the Jock’s arm, because he whimpered and dove into his pocket. “Listen,” YN said, watching the pain with which the man withdrew his keys, “You can keep your porsche,” His eyes lit up, “But,” he looked wary, “You take out what’s on that amex you’ve been flashing around, and we’ll call it even.” She offered. “That’s not--” “Don’t be a dick, either give up the four-hundred k car out the front or take your card--” “The machine’s limit is two thou,” One of the people from the crowd called out. The Jock looked around at his friends and then conceded, pushing his keys into his pocket and pulling at his arm, still in the man’s hold. Both sets of eyes bore into the other as they sized up who might win if this turned into a fight, and the tall guy seemed not to think it was worth it; tossing the Jock’s arm back to him as he let go. The Jock pushed through the crowd to the ATM and puffed himself up as he slipped his wallet from his back pocket.

YN set her pool cue down in the middle of the table and began to empty the balls back onto the table, ready for the next people, and the tall, broad, sandy-haired, green-eyed, man helped her. “How ‘bout you give me a turn to swindle you out of that two thousand?” He said, a sly smile on his face. He was pretty and he knew it. “Hmm,” YN feigned thinking about it, “Nope,” She popped the P as she watched the denial only spur him on. “Guess it was just beginner’s luck then, huh?” He challenged. She scoffed, “I see through you--?” “Dean,” He introduced. “I see that bait, Dean, and I ain’t bitin’,” She said with a sly smile of her own. “Why don’t you let me get you a drink, you can watch me make my way round the room,” Singling out a few of the guys, “And then, you and me?” He gestured between the two of them. “Why don’t I buy me a drink, watch you lose, and call it a night?” She teased. “You want your money or not?” The Jock called out, impatient that he had to wait even a second more than he had. “You want to keep your porsche?” YN called back as she rounded the pool table. The jock held out her money and ripped it from her hand as she tried to take it, looking for the last laugh. She stared at him, jaw muscles flexing as she grit her teeth. She held out her hand for the money, the other hand clamped into a fist, knuckles white. He tried it again, looking around at his friends and laughing as he did. She grabbed at the front of his shirt with her outstretched hand and punched him hard on the nose. It hurt, it hurt more than it probably hurt him. But she was fast despite the pain, and grabbed the money as he reeled back, clutching at his face. “Now fuck off out of here,” She said bravely. He glared at her over his hands, threatening silently. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the hot guy standing behind her, but she couldn’t resist the urge that was building within her, “Sweetheart!” He launched at her but his friends surrounding him grabbed him before he could get at her. She was startled and had adrenaline coursing through her blood, pumping in her ears, but she was safe. ***

“Thanks, you really didn’t need to do that,” The bartender said as the tall, handsome man helped her away from the potential fight. She glanced back at the group, the man who’d saved her still holding the Jock, YN trembling with anger as she stood by. “Please, I didn’t do anything,” The big guy said, putting the glasses on the bar as she rounded it. “Okay, well, let me get you a drink anyway,” She said, hurrying on when he looked like he was about to protest, “For not doing anything,” He smiled, giving in, “A beer,” He conceded taking a seat and watching as she grabbed a pint glass from under the bar and tossed it under the tap, tipping it and opening the nozzle.

“Name’s Carrie,” She introduced, wiping her hand on her jeans before offering it to him at the same time as sliding his beer towards him. “Sam,” He said, shaking the offered hand. “Nice to meet you, Sam,” She said with a grin, “You know him?” She said with a nod towards the pool table. “Uhh, yeah, my brother, Dean,” He said, glancing back towards the pool table. Things seemed to have deescalated and he could see Dean was making moves on the chick holding the pool cue, the group around them had gone back to their drinks, but the jocks remained. “You know her?” He said. “Yeah, YN, she’s a regular.” Carrie said, looking to someone who’d moved up next to Sam. “Two buds, love,” The older patron said, gruff but kind. She turned her back to Sam, then bent to retrieve the two beers from the fridge below the counter top. His eyes moved over her; the jeans were snug, pockets accentuating her plump ass, the loose black shirt looked like a men’s but was tied at the front, buttons undone to reveal a bit of cleavage. “Here ya go,” She popped the caps off the bottles as she placed them on the bar top and took the cash he put down in their place.

“You were saying,” She said to Sam, turning back to him, catching him off guard. “Uhh,” He stammered, frowning, then shook his head before raking his hand through his hair to restore it. “You were asking when I finish up,” She said with a broad, confident smile, winking at him when he blushed. Sam took a sip of his beer, hiding himself behind it before he made up his mind. “So what time do you get off?” He asked, mind made. “An hour,” She laughed. “Right,” He said, awkward now, unsure what to do with himself in the meantime. “So what do you call work, Sam?” She questioned, knowing exactly what to do with him for now. ***

YN left the game underway, Dean up two on an old trucker who seemed overly confident in himself when they started out. “Two beers,” She said over the bar. “How’s the game?” Carrie asked, setting out getting two beers for her. “Oh, I got a good feeling something bad’s about to happen,” YN said, winking at the bartender who tried hard to hide her smile. “This is Sam, your friend’s brother!” Carrie introduced, pointing to the tall guy sitting a seat away at the bar. “Wow, brothers?” YN mused, looking from Carrie to Sam. “Uhh, yeah,” Sam said, extending his hand when YN did. “So you must know exactly what kind of a pool player he is?” YN asked him. “He’s good, don’t let the idiot act fool you,” Sam warned, turning in his seat to face the way YN and Carrie were looking.

Dean took a shot and missed, exaggerating the reaction when the Trucker added another note to the pile on the side. Dean looked to the group by the bar and winked before turning back to the older man. Sam huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes, turning back to the bar. “And don’t let the bartending fool you about this one, she’s putting herself through college,” YN said, nodding over her shoulder at Carrie. “What course are you doing?” Sam said, leaning closer. “English lit,” Carrie said, blushing. “What major?” Sam was intrigued. “Criminology,” She said, giggling when his eyebrows lifted into his hairline and he swung back on his seat. “Right, I’ll leave you two with that,” YN said, picking up her drinks and winking at Carrie before leaving, back for the pool table. ***

“I was feeling generous,” YN said, placing the beer on the table next to Dean’s winnings, winking at him when he looked up. “Generous enough for a game?” He asked, picking up the beer and taking a swig. “Honey, you gotta earn it,” She teased, an encouraging smile on her face. She enjoyed Dean, enjoyed him chasing her, pushing for a game, hinting at something more. He was handsome; green eyes that gave him away, a long neck that she could sink her teeth into, rippling muscles hiding under the jacket, with a confidence to match his strength. He knew he had her in the bag the moment she licked her lips when he pulled the bottle from his lips. There was a tell about a woman, and she was telling a lot. He bit his bottom lip and tore himself away from her stare, looking around the crowd of the bar. “Who’s next?” He asked her, leaning back against the table. She joined him, her arm against his, looking through the crowd. “What about him?” She said, pointing at his brother. He scoffed and shook his head, then nodded towards a twenty-something man that had just entered the bar. “Hang on, you don’t want any competition?” She asked, looking back to Sam. “I don’t want any trouble, have you seen the size of him?” Dean joked. YN realised he was playing a bigger game, maybe even the same kind she was already playing. “Okay, this guy then,” She said, nodding to the table next to them, an older man and a younger woman had just settled in after getting their first drinks of the night. He was a well dressed man in his forties, gelled hair, crisp shirt, faded jeans and loafers, an expensive looking watch on his wrist, a tan line on his ring finger. Meanwhile she looked half his age, giggled at everything he said, sipped at her cocktail, and hung off his every word. Dean smiled and looked back at YN, she was good at this. Maybe a little too good? “Okay,” He said, accepting the challenge. “Excuse me,” YN called out, reaching across Dean and tapping the guy on the shoulder. “Yeah?” He turned around, looking up at Dean and then YN. “Hi, sorry, my boyfriend’s saying he thinks he can beat you at pool, and I don’t think he can,” YN led, a shy smile on her face. “Oh?” The guy said, looking back to his girlfriend who was smiling up at him, doe eyed and possibly tipsy already. “Go on baby, you can take him!” She cheered. The man stood, looking Dean up and down. “Nah, it’s all good darlin’, I don’t wanna take an old timers money,” Dean said, turning to YN, a hand on her waist, a glint in his eye as he met her gaze. “You ain’t gonna take anything,” The guy said confidently. “Don’t worry, I’ll find someone else,” Dean wasn’t even trying to be convincing. “I’m not worried, you should be though,” The man oozed bravado, rolling up his sleeves, already headed for the pool table. “Get him, baby!” The girl cheered again, but she was eyeing Dean the moment her sugar-daddy’s back was turned. “Alright, okay,” Dean was cool, nodding, shooting YN a sly smile before turning back towards the man, “Should we start at fifty--” “Fifty? This is a man’s game,” The guy was trying too hard to impress the ditzy girl he left at the table, and it wreaked of desperation, “Why not two hundred?” He challenged, pulling out his wallet, thumbing through the notes, pushing the rest in and smacking two hundred down on the green felt. “Whoa, okay, okay,” Dean pulled out his own wallet, and although he’d just won that easily, he pulled out one-fifty and turned to YN, “Baby, I need fifty,” He said sheepishly. “What?” YN questioned, looking at his wallet, glancing back to the pocket of his jeans and back at his face. “Oh, man, that’s weak,” The guy laughed, “Gotta ask your girl for the money,” If YN wasn’t in the same room as this guy, she would’ve thought he was in his early twenties, surrounded by his mates cheering him on while he ragged on a teenager. “Why should I give you fifty if you’re just gonna lose it?” She questioned, teasing Dean with a brilliant smile. “I won’t lose it babe, I promise,” Dean played his part, hand out, looking sorry. “Whatever... you owe me,” She said, handing over fifty dollars in the form of five tens. Dean leant in for a kiss, hamming it up and shooting his shot, but YN turned her head, letting his lips land on her cheek. “Oh,” The man hooted, “That’s cold, so cold,” He laughed. No wonder he was divorced. “Don’t worry man, I’ll make it close.” He hushed loudly at Dean. “Kill me,” Dean whispered, but his eyes were alight, he knew he had this guy and he was going to savor beating him. ***

“So, what brings you two to town?” Carrie asked, taking off her apron and bringing her own beer around the bar to sit next to Sam. “Uhh, we’re just passing through, on our way home.” “Where you coming from?” She asked, crossing her legs, the heel of her boot came to rest against Sam’s calf. “We just finished up with something in Cedar Rapids,” He said, vague, “What about you, grow up here or…?” Sam didn’t want to lie about work, he didn’t want to get into that, he wanted to know about her, have an intellectual conversation about books and university and studying, about the world. “I grew up in Georgia, went to Ole Miss, dropped out, somehow found myself out here, serving drunks for bad tips, so I thought I’d give study another crack,” She said with a shrug, picking up her beer and sipping at it. “What happened?” Sam asked, he saw himself in her story and was curious as to what happened to her. “Bad choices,” She said with a sad smile. “I, umm, I actually went to Stanford for Law,” He said, continuing when she raised her eyebrows, “Yeah, I uhh, there was a family emergency, my Dad died, and I never went back.” he said, frowning into his own beer. “I’m sorry about your dad,” She said, reaching across and placing a hand on his arm. He took a deep breath and looked back up at her, she was sweet, her eyes kind. “Thanks,” He said, taking a gulp of his beer. He looked over at Dean who was showing off, while the man at the pool table stared at a pocket, dumbstruck. “He looked after you, huh?” Carrie asked, she looked at him as if she could read his soul, like she had known him all his life. He chuckled, “Yeah, he did.” Sam pushed a hand through his hair, “Enough about me,” He sighed, “What about you? Brothers, sisters, family?” He asked. “Uhh,” It was her turn to clam up, she downed the rest of her beer, and plastered on a smile when she resurfaced. “That bad?” He questioned, patting her knee. “Let’s put it this way, I chose the person I call a sister, and she chose me.” ***

“Come on,” Dean begged, “I’ve won everyone’s money, let me win yours!” He was leaning against the pool table, opposite YN who was resting against a bar table. “Well when you put it like that,” She teased, raising the beer bottle to her lips. “I set up the table, no one else wants to lose their money, come on, please?” Dean tried again, pushing off the pool table’s edge when she narrowed her eyes at him, wrapping her lips around the bottle and tipping it back. “Okay, how about this?” He pushed his hand into his back pocket and produced the cash he’d won, “Let me give you a chance to win this,” He showed the corners of each bill as he counted them out and laid them on the table next to her. An easy five hundred. “Oh, now we’re talking.” She said, a sly smile on her face. His eyebrows shot up, the excitement was almost like she’d promised him more than a game. YN pulled out the wad of cash from earlier and put it on top of his stash. “All or nothing?” She challenged. “Darlin’, you may wanna break first then make that call.” He warned, chalking the tip of his pool cue and blowing off the excess as if he was making a point.  “What, are you scared to live dangerously?” She asked, licking her lips and slipping her hand down her own cue, letting it glide in her fist before she tightened her grip and lifted. He quirked a brow at her, sure he was playing for something more now. “Oh darlin’ Danger’s my middle name,” ***

“Whoa,” Carrie was taken aback by the Impala parked outside the bar. “My brother’s,” Sam said, his hand still in hers as they stepped into the cool night air. “Compensating?” She joked, looking over her shoulder at his smile and roll of his eyes. “He does buff it frequently,” Sam laughed. “Bet he spends hours on it,” She added, leading him towards her old, red, truck. Sam stopped her before she could let go of his hand. “What--” She asked, interrupted by the look on his face. His eyes were dark, lips glistening in the street lamp light, his other hand reached up, hooking his index finger under her chin. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, already leaning down. “I’m hoping you’ll do more than that,” She confessed quietly. Sam’s lips met hers, soft and gentle as he angled her just so. His fingers spread and pushed into her hair as she stepped closer, winding his other hand around her back before she held onto his shoulders, pulling him into her. “Where are you staying?” She whispered against his lips. “Motel,” He mumbled against her, then pulled back, “You sure?” “Are you?” She laughed as he groaned, pulling her back in for another kiss. ***

It was a close game, right down to the eight ball, and YN was sure she’d seen real panic in Dean’s vibrant green eyes when she was lining up her shot. But with a subtle twist to her wrist and a pull of her power, the eight ball curved and stopped right before hitting the last remaining ball. He sighed relief, masking his features as she looked up to him, defeated. “All or nothing?” He checked, balancing the cue over his knuckles, lining up, waiting for her response. She sighed heavy, conceding victory, “All or nothing,” She agreed. Dean didn’t even look down as he took the last shot, sinking the black and then white. “Show off.” She said, shaking her head as she collected the money, and turned around. “Listen, you won yours fair, and I won mine fair, let’s just split it?” He offered. “No, Dean, you won this fair too,” She stepped in closer, looking up at him through her lashes. “Won what?” He asked, swallowing thickly, her body now pressing against his, he could taste her breath, and although he’d only seen her drink beers all night, she was sweet. “The money,” She said, pushing it into his chest as she pushed away, watching as he swayed towards her first then blinked, snapping back to himself. “Am I reading this wrong, or…” He took the money, but held it in her hand, tugging her back toward him, and when she stepped in, he was sure he had his answer, “Do you want me as much as I want you?” He was brave, normally there was a cheesy pick up line, but YN… she was a woman after his own heart. “I’ve been waiting for you to make a move all night,” She said, meeting him in a fiery kiss. A bar goer whistled at them, drawing attention till a few people were howling and cheering. “You wanna get out of here?” He asked. “More than you know,” She said, picking up her bag and jacket, leading the way out of the bar, Dean hot on her heels. ***

Sam rolled over Carrie, holding her to him as he did, pinning her to the bed before pushing himself up onto his arm. He looked down between them, following his hand as it traced over her breast, stomach, hip, then he dragged his fingers along the flesh of her thigh. When he looked up, there were her eyes, eager, begging, pleading for him to move. He pulled back and pressed in, rocking into her, drawing each breath from her as he did. She was breathy, needy, her hands wandered his back, traced his tattoo, then clung to his shoulders as he fucked into her, each thrust getting rougher. She rose up to catch his lips, biting at the lower, he hissed and dipped his head to her shoulder biting at it, savouring the gasp that fell from her lips. “Sam, don’t tease me,” She whined, digging her heel into his ass, “Fuck me,” Her breath at his ear sent a roll of energy through him, his hairs standing on end. He sat up on his knees and pulled out of her, flipping her onto her stomach and pulling her hips back roughly. She let out a moan as he pressed the head of his cock against her lips and sunk in. He admired the give of flesh under his fingertips as he held onto her hips and plunged into her, over and over. The room filled with the sound of her cries, his grunts, their skin meeting with each thrust. ***

Dean parked the car out the front of the motel, his hand resting across the back of their seat. He looked over at her, the glisten of the street light off her bottom lip that he imagined she’d just licked, the electric look in her eyes, the flush of her skin. They seemed to have the same thought as each reached for the other, desperate for the attention, craving the satisfaction. Pool had been the foreplay, and this was their time, the tension between them palpable, the mix of lust and admiration had them tearing at their clothes. Hands pulled at zips and fiddled with buttons until an unspoken agreement was found and they separated long enough for him to get his pants around his knees and her to pull one leg free from her jeans and panties. She bit her bottom lip when she glanced at his erection. “Fuck,” She muttered, smiling, blush raising over her cheeks. Dean wore the proudest smile, the twinkle of mischief in his eye, the wink. He ripped at the corner of the condom square and pulled out the rubber. But YN was quick and took it from him as she climbed over him, she eased it down his shaft with one hand and licked her other, taking him in her palm and pumping him twice before shifting and lining up. “Oh,” The noise popped at the back of Dean’s throat as she lowered herself onto him, he grabbed the top of the seat, the other hand on her ass. YN licked at his top lip, her tongue just grazing it, teasing a reaction from him. And it worked, he captured her lips in a seering kiss, tongue pushing into her mouth, dancing with hers, then he stilled as she swiveled her hips experimentally. She was slow and deliberate, and he lavished her neck and chest in nips and kisses, savouring the feel of her under his hands, the taste of her on his tongue. “YN,” He groaned into her neck, slapping at her ass. “Close?” She asked, lips against his ear. She took hold of the seat at his back when his hands caught her hips, tight, holding her down on him as he raised his own hips, bucking into her, once, twice, three times and then he tensed, a shout of pleasure, and then his lips found hers again. As he got his breath back, he pulled away from her, searching her eyes. “Why don’t you come inside?” He asked, kissing her before she could speak. “You gonna make me feel like a winner?” She teased, jolting when he slapped at her ass again. “You know it,”

Just before sunrise, YN woke up, her eyes searching for the dull red, fuzzy numbers of the alarm clock. It blinked 0457 at her, she wiped a hand over her eyes and looked at Dean, still sleeping peacefully. He looked so relaxed, so sated. And so he should, she’d never had a guy work as hard as he did to please, and for that she’d always remember him. Then she looked at the arm across her stomach. Pulling the pillow out from below her head, ever so carefully, she flattened it as best she could, pushing it down her side. With a quick move that jostled the bed once, she was out of his hold and replaced by a pillow. Standing naked and frozen, she watched as he pulled it into his side instinctively, but didn’t wake. Like a fish taking bait! She looked across the floor for her clothes, pulling on her panties, then jeans, her bra, and finally her shirt, then she found his jeans. Glancing up at the bed once more, she crouched down and went through his pockets, finding the five hundred he’d won in the first few games, then found her two thousand. She opened his wallet and pulled out the credit card. Mr Dan Hermansen She frowned at it, then pulled out the license. Jerry Wanek She smiled knowingly and looked up at the bed, mentally tutting him. She left the cards and found an extra forty-five cash. She wadded it up and stuck it into her back pocket as she felt through his other pocket. The keys to the Impala. ***

Sam rolled over in the bed, finding it empty. He looked up at the bathroom door, open. Then he searched the rest of the room. No one. And there was no sign he even had a guest, except for his neatly folded clothes on the small sofa. He threw back the sheets and headed towards them, a knot forming in his stomach. He pulled his jeans up and reached into the pocket, no wallet. He looked around the room, and then picked up the pile of clothes, shaking each item, then found his wallet underneath them. Empty. ***

YN squinted, holding her breath as she closed the motel door room behind her, waiting for the quiet sound of the lock to click. “Took your time,” Carrie greeted from her place leaning against the Impala. “He was cute.” YN offered as an explanation, stepping away from the door, “Got the money?” “Yep, got the keys?” Carrie tried, pressing her hand to the Impala’s bonnet. “Uhh, about that…” “Oh, come on, please? Please?” Carrie was begging, literally; hands in front of her face, a puppy dog look in her eyes, bottom lip turned out. “Yeah, I couldn’t do it, he really loves this car,” She said with a shrug. “You’re soft on him.” Carrie accused, turning her shoulder when YN swatted at her. “No,” She defended, “We said--” “Yeah, yeah…” Carrie interrupted, pulling the truck’s keys from her handbag, “Nothing that no one can get attached too.” She repeated the rules, set from long ago.

They climbed into the truck, and Carrie gunned the engine, revving it loud. “What are you doing?” YN said, a laugh caught somewhere in amongst the sudden burst of adrenaline. “I got a good feeling something bad’s about to happen,” Carrie said through a big smile.

There was a swish of a curtain a few doors down, and then another at Sam’s motel room. Dean was the first out of his room, a pillow held over his groin, then Sam came out of his, jeans on, looking directly at them. “What are you waiting for?” YN asked her best friend. “I just want one more--” But as she leaned further over the dash, she got a glimpse of a gun in the waist of Sam’s jeans. “Oh shit!”  “Go, go!” YN squealed, holding the dash as her friend floored the truck, tires screeching, before kicking up a cloud of dust for them to disappear in. ***

“Was that--” Dean asked. “Yeah,” Sam said, raking a hand down his face before looking at his brother, “Dude!” He shook his head and laughed. A bright red lipstick mark was pressed on Dean’s cheek, and the pillow hiding his modesty completed the picture of jilted lover. “It was a good night,” Dean defended, shrugging it off, unabashed. He was turning back for his room when Sam spoke. “How much did you pay for it?” He asked, making Dean scoff. “I don’t pay for--” “One-twenty, what I got out yesterday.” Sam explained, handing his wallet to Dean. Realisation dawned on the older Winchester and he dashed back inside the motel room, his ass on full display. He found his trousers and stuck his hand into the pockets. Nothing. “No, no, no,” He chanted as if it would change everything. Then he spotted the Impala’s keys on the bedside table and sighed a breath of relief. And then he spotted his wallet on the floor. He snatched it up, opening it to find it empty. “Son-of-a-” 

#dean winchester #sam winchester #Angelina’s Duets Reboot Challenge #spn fanfic #original content #spn smut #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x oc

[arazialotis]

Every Time You Leave, I Hit Rock Bottom

A/N: Written in celebration for Angelina! @atc74​ A while ago she celebrated 4,000 followers and 4 years on tumblr! Can you believe it?! Congratulations girl!! If you aren’t following her, do it now! You won’t be disappointed. For the duet challenge, I chose Rock Bottom (Hailee Steinfeld & DNCE) for inspiration. Give it a listen to get in the mood and let me know how I did. 

Word Count: 2050

Summary: Scenes from the up and downs of Dean and Y/N’s relationship as they struggle to balance his life as a hunter. 

Warnings: arguing, swearing, a hint of smut, implied cheating

****

***November 5***

“Do you love me?” You cooed in the aftermath of a passionate heat. 

He chuckled, as if your question was absurd. He swam through the tangle of sheets to kiss your lips. “Of course I do.” 

Though you doubted his faithfulness, he had sworn it to you. He laid his head against your chest. His hand found yours. The ring he had given you months earlier twirled gently as his fingers danced over it. 

“I’m gonna miss you.” You admitted stroking your fingers through his hair. 

You felt him hum in delight.

“I always miss you.” 

*** November 30***

White flecks fell outside the window, joining a hefty covering on the ground. The snow muffled the sounds of the night, making the world seem at peace. Your arms held you tight, waiting for him to finish shoveling the drive. The flyer clenched in your fist crinkled as you contemplated the best way to bring it up with Dean. 

He came in, a burling heap of wool and snow, his cheeks red from the blistering cold. You hustled back to the kitchen, pretending not to have lingered. The hot toddies you prepared were still steaming. You whisked in a drizzle of honey. 

Dean made his way over to you, brushing snowflakes out of his hair. Your heart warmed seeing a boyish look to him.

“What?” He matched your smile. 

“Nothing.” You smirked and pushed his mug closer to him. You pressed your own to your lips. “You’re cute.” 

“You’re cute.” He repeated, gently kissing your forehead before taking the hot drink. He set his drink back down, the flyer on the counter catching his eye. “What’s this?”

You took another sip, concealing the flush to your cheeks. “Hmm.”

His eyes darted back and forth, scanning the paper. “It looks like Dan’s Auto is hiring.” 

“Oh.” You set your mug down, moving closer to him, wrapping your arm around his waist, pretending to read with him though you already knew the words. “You’d be good at something like that.”

If he knew what you were doing, he didn’t hint at it. “Yeah, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck, setting the flyer back down and went back to the tea. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to get more information.” You nudged. 

He smiled and leaned into you. “Right now, I just want to get warm.” He nipped at your neck. 

You chuckled, as heat and desire spread through you. You let the conversation end for now. 

*** December 12 ***

Dean stumbled into the bedroom late at night. He’d been gone a week and a half. At first you thought he was drunk, but when your eyes adjusted to the dark, panic rose up into your chest. You scrambled out of bed and followed him into the bathroom. 

“You’re hurt.” Your eyes went wide with fear.

He balled up his flannel and threw it in the sink, the water turning red with blood. Three long slashes ran from his shoulder down his arm. “It's fine.” “We need to get you to a hospital.” You stammered.

Before you could run for the keys he caught your wrist, stopping you. “With what insurance?” “God. I don’t know, we’ll figure it out later.” You pulled your arm away from his grip. 

“It’s fine.” He assured, sitting down on the edge of the bath. 

You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths. “Okay.” Somehow you managed to force the panic down. “Okay.” You repeated, going for the medicine cabinet, looking for gauze, alcohol, anything that could help. 

*** December 19 ***

“You’re not going back out!” You stomped your foot on the ground like a toddler who had no chance at winning an argument. 

He shook his head and chuckled as if to contain his anger. “Your arm was nearly ripped off a week ago!” You continued, attempting to make him see logic. “You're in no condition to hunt.” 

He threw his duffel bag over his shoulder. “I’ve had worse Y/N. Anyways, it's recovering just fine.”

Fine. You hated that word. It was if he used it to cover up any indifference growing in your relationship. You went to strike him, only to prove him wrong. His hand caught you before you could. “Are you fucking serious?” He accused you, disdain seething out of his eyes. He pushed you aside and went for the door. 

The worry balled up, forming a pit in your stomach. Staying with you until he returned. 

*** January 3 ***

“Don’t give me that look Y/N.” Dean could feel your scorn through the dark bedroom, dimly lit by the full moon’s beam. 

“What look?” You huffed. You had woken to rustling and the spot next to you cold. He was planning to leave you. Again. You had stayed silent, watching him pack, waiting for him to realize you were awake. 

“Y/N.” He groaned. “Don’t do this, not now.”

“I’m not doing anything Dean.” You argued back. 

He sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to reason with you with anger. Releasing his own, he gently crawled onto the bed, creeping towards you. You flipped over, avoiding his gaze and pulled the blankets into a shield around you. 

His breath was on the back of your neck. He spoke in a whisper. “You’re resenting me.” He kissed the back of your head. “You’re pouting.” Another kiss. He paused hearing a whimper. “And now you are crying.” He laid down and pulled you tight against his chest, a tear sliding down his own cheek. 

When you finally found courage to speak, your voice shook. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Babe… you know I have to.”

You turned around to meet him. “No, you don’t.”

His thumb wiped away a trailing tear against your skin. “Who else is going to do it?”

“... Sam.” “He’s across the country. ‘Sides, it’s only a state over. I’ll be a week, tops.” He kissed your forehead before getting up to finish packing. 

You didn’t turn to watch him leave. You only stared at the empty pillow next to yours. He left the door cracked open. It wasn’t until you heard the front door shut and the rumble of his car coming to life when the anger surfaced again. 

Gently grabbing for his pillow, wrapping your arms around it and burying your face in his scent, you whispered,“Fuck you.”

*** Valentine’s ***

Traditionally, the holiday hadn’t meant much to you. A way to push over priced Hallmark cards with clashing colors. But Dean was home, and so recently he hadn’t been. You fussed around the kitchen in a little black dress, concealing something skimpy and lacy underneath. Filet mignon sizzled against hot cast iron and a cherry pie bubbled in the oven. Dean shuffled behind you. You turned around hoping to be met with a kiss. Instead you saw that dreaded duffel bag. 

“No.” Your heart sank. “Not today.” 

He gave you that look. The look that said, this is what you sign up for.

“Can it at least be after dinner?” You pleaded. 

He sighed, running his hand through his hair, contemplating it for a second. “The longer I wait, the more someone could get hurt.”

You’re hurting me, you thought to yourself. It was selfish though. You closed your eyes and hung your head in defeat. 

He strided closer to you, planted a kiss onto your forehead and pulled you close to him. 

“We’ll celebrate when I get home. K?” 

You nodded into his chest.

*** February 25 ***

“You just got home. And you’re already leaving again!” You fumed. 

“What choice do I have!?” Dean clenched his jaw, attempting to control his temper. 

The nearest object to you was his phone. You picked it up and threw it at him. He easily caught it, avoiding any blow you intended. “Call someone else to take it. Don’t go. Take that job at the shop. Those are your choices Dean!” 

“This is my job Y/N! This is the only life I know. I can’t sit around here, with a white picket fence, knowing people are out there are dying on my watch.” 

“Then take me with you!” You pleaded. “I can’t keep watching you leave, not knowing if you’ll come back or not.” Tears threatened to spill out. 

“Like hell!” He firmly protested. “I won’t put you in harm’s way.” 

You rolled your eyes. “God, I wish you realized how hypocritical you sound right now. Can’t you realize that's how I feel every single time.”

“I can take care of myself.” He thumped against his chest. “I always have. And I don’t need your whiny, nagging ass causing extra stress on a hunt.” 

A feral scream escaped from your throat. You slid off the ring he had given to you months earlier and chucked it across the room at him. He didn’t bother to catch it. “Fuck off Dean. You might as well not bother coming home.” 

“Maybe I won’t then!”  He grabbed his bag, slamming the door shut with a bang. 

*** March 4 ***

“I’m so sorry baby.” Dean’s gasped. His mouth buried into the crook of your neck. Your fingers ran down his bare torso as he rocked into you. “I’ll never leave you again.” 

You moaned as your bodies clashed against each other, moving together, beads of sweat outlining each muscle. He groaned, his kisses growing more hungry and desperate as he neared a climax.  A whimper escaped your lips and sent him over the edge. He buried his face into your shoulder, panting for air. 

With a final grunt, he was satisfied, leaving you empty and craving for more. He rolled over on his back catching his breath. 

“God. I needed that.” He ran his fingers through his hair before getting up for a water break. 

You turned over to your side, pulling up a sheet to cover yourself. ‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep.’

*** April 10 ***

To be fair, he did stay longer than usual. But the itch got to him. One he couldn’t help but scratch. You knew it was coming. He became more antsy. Pacing around, working on mundane house projects, spending more time outside. Honestly, it was making you anxious.

You began searching for cold cases in the area, drawing out farther until something seemed to fit. Over dinner, you handed him the phone to look over the articles. He kept his expression as blank as he could. 

“What do you think?” You prompted. 

He set the phone down and searched your eyes, treading lightly. “Could be a case.” He went back pushing food around his plate but not eating. 

You dabbed your mouth with a napkin, and then cleared your plate, washing it in the sink. “Maybe…” You sighed. “Maybe, you should look into it.” 

He came up behind you, turning off the water, and wrapping his arms around you. You both stood there for several minutes, your heartbeats matching in rhythm.

His whisper barely broke the silence. “Are you sure?”

You only nodded. 

He gently kissed the side of your temple. “Love you.” He slipped away. 

“Love you too.” *** May 8 ***

“Who the fuck was that Dean?!”

“Nobody!” He yelled back into his cell. “Like Hell!” A scoff made it through your seething anger.  

“It was just the TV, Y/N.” He calmed his voice, to try and reason with you. “Bullshit!” Your blood began to boil. “She was right fucking next to you!” 

“Stop being so fucking paranoid. You’re my one and only.” You heard the rustling of sheets. 

You made your way through the dark hall to the medicine cabinet, looking for something to cool a rising migraine. “Then prove it.” “What?” He stuttered. 

“Prove it! Give me a face-time tour of your hotel room.” You popped the bottle and swallowed a few pills. 

His voice lowered to a rigid growl. “I don’t have to prove anything to you. If you love me, you’ll trust me.”

You slammed your phone shut and threw it across the room. 

*** May 11 ***

Dean entered the home, ready for a fight. He slammed the door on the way in and tossed his key’s onto the kitchen counter. 

“Why haven’t you been taking my calls?” He called out, waiting a few moments before going to look for you. “Y/N?” His voice echoed through the empty house. “What the hell?” He muttered to himself. 

He paced down the hallway, calling your name again. Upon entering the bedroom, it became abundantly clear. He ripped open the closet door, and stood back. Only his items remained. 

***

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#angelina’s duets reboot challenge #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #spnfandom #spn fanfiction #dean x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Dust To Dust

Dean x Reader

Word Count: ~2250

Warnings: Offscreen character death, offscreen sexytimes, onscreen tasteful nudity and kissing.

A/N: This is my entry for @atc74’s Duets Challenge Reboot, inspired by the gorgeous song “Dust To Dust,” by the Civil Wars. GO LISTEN. YOUR EARBALLS WILL THANK YOU.

Beta by the lovely @stusbunker 💕

He knew this was coming, but that doesn’t make it easier. His hands start shaking as soon as he sees the glow of the bonfire.

She looks up as he approaches. At this point Dean knows the shape of her, her eyes and mouth and dimples and freckles, as well as he knows the shape of Baby’s steering wheel. She still catches him off-guard. Her smile is so bright it sears into his retinas, lingering behind his eyelids and blinding him long after he looks away.

“You made it,” she says, her face shining with fierce wild joy, and she’s passing him a dripping-cold beer from the cooler next to her, and what else can Dean do? He sits on the log next to her and blinks away his tears.

He kisses her, deep and hungry, tasting beer and woodsmoke. His chest is full of shivery heat that radiates out and settles deep in his aching bones, chasing away the exhaustion and the loneliness, warming him from the inside better than the fire ever could, until he’s dizzy and feverish from the closeness of her.

“I fucking missed you,” he says.

. . . . .

They heard the noise, the familiar scrape-thump of a shovel and grave dirt, before they saw anything. By the time they rounded the corner of the neighboring mausoleum, she was crouching over the hole with a Zippo in one hand and a twist of newspaper in the other; Dean heard the click, watched the flare and the falling sparks, heard the whoosh of lighter fluid going up.

Her eyes were shadowed, but the blazing bones illuminated the wicked curl of her smile, and Dean’s stomach swooped dangerously. He was too busy staring to notice that she was drawing a gun.

“It’s rude to sneak up on a girl,” she laughed, and cocked the safety. “Come out and say hello.”

“It’s okay, we’re hunters,” Sam said, walking forward with his hands up. Dean set his own gun down carefully and stepped into the light.

. . . . .

Dean felt off-balance, somehow. He’d felt off-balance since the first flash of her smile in the firelight. He’d been turning on the charm all night, and she was laughing, but he kept feeling like she was laughing in spite of his jokes, not because of them. Usually he’d cut his losses, move on, but… he couldn’t fucking look away from her, let alone walk away.

“So, tell me,” she said, eyes twinkling over the rim of her glass. “Do you ever get sick of lying through your teeth?”

Dean hadn’t been expecting that.

“Part of the job, been doing it as long as I can remember,” he replied smoothly.

“Yeah, I know, but…” she said, and she was laughing at him, low and sly, like she knew something he didn’t. “That’s not the job I meant.”

He took a sip of beer and tried not to let his uncertainty show on his face.

“I don’t- ”

“Taking care of Sam. Telling him it’s going to be okay.”

He blinked at her, chest constricting, feeling a sudden irrational surge of anger. Her smile softened at the edges like she understood, and that only made it worse.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said coldly, and he was standing before he could think it through, ready to walk out.

“I was a big sister,” she said. Something haunted crept into her eyes. “Loneliest job in the world, huh?”

He exhaled quick and sharp, feeling nauseous.

“Was?”

“I’ll tell you about her, if you tell me what’s going on with you and Sam,” she offered. She licked a drop of beer from the corner of her lips, where they were quirked up in a smile, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sweet red shape of her mouth.

“Okay,” he said. “Yeah, okay.”

He sat back down and leaned closer, like a moth fluttering helplessly into a flame.

. . . . .

“Oh,” she whispers. “It’s you. It’s really you. How- ”

“How did you know I- ”

“Ash found me, but… well, Sam’s not usually watching during this part. Kinda gave it away. Hey, Sammy.”

“Hey,” Sam says hoarsely, walking into the circle of firelight. He doesn’t argue with the nickname. 

She’s still staring at Dean, running gentle fingers over his face like she’s trying to map the changes there: his stubble and tired eyes, new wrinkles, new scars. He strokes her soft hair, traces her jawline, finds her pulse beating steady under her ear. The longer he touches her, the harder it is to think about leaving.

“You been okay?” she asks.

“Lonely,” he admits, under his breath, so Sam doesn’t hear. “Fucking… shit, it’s hard. Never really realized how lonely I was, until you came along and I wasn’t, anymore.”

She bites her lip and wipes away a tear that was starting to slide down his cheek. “Dean.”

“Don’t,” he says. He tries to shake it off, make the best of it. “Can’t stay long. Are you… is this -”

“It’s good,” she reassures him. “I hang out with Ash and Pamela, when I want a break from you. Pamela sure likes talking about you. Poor girl seemed to think you were some kind of sex god, she was real disappointed when I told her the truth.”

She winks. Dean laughs in spite of himself and presses his lips to her temple, inhaling the sweet smoky scent of her hair. When he pulls away, her eyes are glittering with unshed tears.

“You’re really happy?” he asks.

“I get to spend the rest of eternity with you,” she says. “Duh.”

He looks around, breath catching at the flood of memories. “The cabin. The first night?”

“Of course.”

“This is- ” he says, heart pounding crazily in his chest. “This is it, for you? I thought this was mine. What mine would look like, if I…”

“Ours,” she whispers. Tears are rolling freely down her cheeks now, but she’s smiling anyway, brilliant and scorching.

“Dean,” Sam says. Everything is starting to shake around them. “Dean, we gotta go.”

. . . . .

Dean scanned the parking lot as soon as they pulled in, spotting Baby, safe and sound.

“Going to check if Sam’s tucked in like a good boy?” she asked wryly, watching him from the driver’s seat. “Is it past his bedtime? C’mon, now, don’t spend your year smothering the poor kid.”

He bristled, but she was already unbuckling her seatbelt, getting out of the car without a backwards glance.

He expected her to stop at her door, invite him in; she was just a few rooms down, as luck would have it. Instead she walked around the side of the building, gesturing for him to follow.

There was a tall fence around the old pool, bearing a plaque that read Pool closes at dusk. By the time Dean rounded the corner, she was busy picking the lock, squinting in the dim red light cast by the neon “vacancy” sign.

The gate swung open. She started stripping as she walked, shrugging off her jacket and flannel, letting them fall on the concrete.

“Seriously?” Dean laughed. She was shimmying out of her jeans. Heat twisted deep in his gut.

She was down to briefs and a tank top as she tested the water, arms out to balance, knees at a funny angle as she dipped her toes awkwardly, and light caught on the smooth curves of her hips, tracing her silhouette in crimson, and… 

“You coming?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the pool and grinning over her shoulder at him.

...and Dean was so fucking fucked.

She slid into the water with a barely-there splash. He tripped in his haste to take off his clothes, but he got there eventually, feeling oddly self-conscious in his boxers as he lowered himself into the pool. He could feel her watching from the deep end, where she was treading water so quietly that he barely heard the ripples. Goosebumps crawled down his arms.

He pushed off the side of the pool and swam out to her. They circled each other for a moment, not saying a word, and Dean’s heart was pounding as he looked at her.

He was shivering. The water wasn’t that cold, even, but he was excruciatingly aware of all his bare skin, all the ways she’d stripped him naked.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He shook his head. “This. You.”

“Afraid to let me in?” she said. It wasn’t really a question.

“Too late for that,” he admitted.

“Come here,” she said softly, and she backed into the shallow end of the pool. Dean followed until there was solid concrete under his feet. The ripples between their bodies reflected red, deep like embers.

She kissed him, not at all gently; it felt like sparks when she bit his lower lip, like wildfire flickering to life inside his chest, blistering-hot and terrifying.

. . . . .

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” Dean said, marveling at the way she looked as the first peachy-orange rays of sunrise filtered through the blinds and illuminated all that naked skin. She just rolled her eyes and passed him a glass of water.

“Drink,” she ordered.

He gave her a lazy salute. He really didn’t mind how bossy she was, especially not when she was naked.

She was still flushed pink, glistening with sweat, and her hair was a damp chlorine-scented tangle on the pillow, and Dean kept thinking she must be a fever dream. He must’ve hallucinated the entire night.

In the quiet moments when they’d stopped to catch their breath, he whispered things against her soft skin, confessed his sins, spilled his secrets… he lit a torch and held it up to show her everything, but it was morning, and she was still there.

Dean ran a hand from her rosy cheek down her neck. She arched back, baring her throat for him, giving him a sideways glance and a smoldering grin.

“This is fuckin’ crazy,” Dean growled, and he tugged her on top of him, running his fingernails up her back just to feel her squirm.

“Yeah,” she said breathlessly. “Yeah, I feel a little fuckin’ crazy right now.”

He traced her jawline, found her pulse beating steady under her ear, and when he bit the curve of her neck, sucking a red mark into the skin, he felt her pulse quicken under his fingertips. He let his head fall back on the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep unsteady breath.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he admitted. He opened his eyes and looked up at her, scared shitless.

She met his gaze, eyes heavy-lidded, lips swollen and bitten-red, and she just smiled so bright, so fucking incandescent, that he felt the heat of it down to his toes.

“Where are you guys headed next?” she asked. She kissed his forehead, the bridge of his nose, and Dean had trouble remembering for a moment.

“Gonna go see Ozzy. But… after?”

“My uncle’s got a cabin in Wyoming. I crash there sometimes, between hunts. You could…”

Dean tugged her down for a kiss, rough and desperate. She made this needy, urgent noise in the back of her throat when he pulled her hair, and then she was grinding down, her body fitting so perfectly against his, and he forgot what he was going to say.

He dug his fingers into her hips and rolled them both over. She let out a startled laugh, catching him off-guard, shocking him into stillness. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and tried to remember how to breathe.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Dean repeated, blinded by the way a fiery ray of orange light illuminated her smile. “I’ve only got a year.”

Suddenly it didn’t feel like much time at all.

“Guess we better not waste it, then,” she whispered.

. . . . .

“Did you find- ”

“Yeah, she’s here. Ash checked on her, I didn’t want her to know… about everything. It’s enough to know that she’s happy.”

“Good,” he says fiercely. That’s a relief, at least, and the tight cold grip around his chest loosens ever so slightly.

His heart thumps and flutters. He’s panicking. There’s so much he wants to say and there isn’t enough time. They never had enough time. Heaven is thundering and shuddering around them, but all Dean can see is her smile, glowing hot in the orange light of the bonfire.

“Okay,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady as she wipes her eyes. “You’ve got a world to save.”

He wraps his arms around her one last time. He feels her shoulders hitch as she sobs, her breath tickling his neck.

“Thank you,” he whispers, so that only she can hear it. “I just - fuckin’ thank you. That wasn’t what I meant, you know, when I asked you to look out for Sammy.”

“You got your dumb ass dragged to hell,” she says, with a shaky laugh. “Somebody had to take care of him.”

He’d give anything for another year.

“I love you,” he says desperately. “I don’t want to leave you.”

She grins, cocky and perfect even through the tears. “I know.”

“Dean,” Sam pleads, voice breaking.

He forces himself to his feet, takes one stumbling step and then another, turning his back on the warmth and the firelight, blinking away the swirling afterimages of her too-bright smile.

The scene dissolves. When he looks back, there’s nothing left except a curling wisp of ash and dust, blowing away in the cold breeze.

.

.

.

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#Angelina’s Duets Reboot Challenge #dean winchester reader insert #dean winchester angst #dean x reader #spn fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic

[waywardnerd67]

Terrified

Summary: One fateful night led Dean Winchester on a romantic whirlwind with (Y/N). As the years pass, she is ready to settle down where he is seemingly always running away. Until fate has to step in to guide him towards the right path. Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Fluff/Slight Angst Word Count: 1879 Song Prompt: “Terrified” by Katherine McPhee & Jason Reeves (Lyrics in bold) A/N #1: This is for the amazing @atc74​ Angelina’s Duets Reboot Challenge A/N #2: As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

Dean Winchester rolled his head to rest against his aching arms he was hanging by. How the vampire got the drop on him, he would never know. All he was trying to do was figure a way to get out of the predicament he was in and get back to the one person he should have been with from the beginning. The mere thought of her had his eyes welling up from the stupidity he displayed the last time they were together.

Four Days Earlier

(Y/N) was standing by the end of her couch as he slipped on his boots. Her arms were crossed over her chest as her piercing (Y/C/E) eyes bore into him. She was mad and with good reason since he was leaving again.

“Dean will you just tell me the truth, please.” she said as he stood up.

He sighed heavily, “I’m telling you the truth sweetheart. I have to leave for a business trip, but I will be back in a couple of days.”

Everything he said was true just not the whole truth. In the three years they had been together, Dean never once told her about his real job. Just that he ran the family business with his brother that required a lot of traveling. Omitting the truth versus straight up lying was a step in the right direction of having a normal relationship.

“Bull. We were laying there and I brought up moving in together. Like every time I bring it up something comes up that you have to leave. So cut the shit out and just be straight with me. Is this going anywhere?” she asked her voice faltering at the end.

Dean stepped closer to her running his hands over her plaid covered arms, “Of course it is (Y/N). When I get back we will sit down and see how the next part of our lives will look. I promise, but right now I have to go.”

He kissed her cheek reaching to grab his jacket off the back of the couch. Just as he reached the door she called out, “This could be good, it's already better than that and nothing's worse than knowing you're holding back. I could be all that you needed if you let me try, Dean.”

A sharp pain spread throughout his chest as if she had just taken a hot knife to his heart. He turned towards her, “Sweetheart, I only said it 'cause I mean it. I only mean 'cause it's true, so don't you doubt what I've been dreaming. 'Cause it fills me up and holds me close whenever I'm without you. I promise we will talk about everything in a couple of days. I love you, (Y/N).”

Dean walked out the front door to Baby backing out of (Y/N)’s driveway. He looked back at the front door seeing her standing there wiping her eyes with the back of her shirt sleeves. He hated leaving her and knew the time had come for the truth to come out.

Present Day

Dean looked to the IV draining his blood slowly into mason jars surrounding his feet. It was only supposed to be a couple of vamps running a muck in the town next to (Y/N)’s. He regretted telling Sam he would be fine but did not want to interrupt his long weekend with Eileen. When a couple of vamps turned out to be a nest of six that had trapped him, Dean was overpowered by them.  

“I really thought there would be more to the famous Dean Winchester. I have to say, I’m slightly disappointed.” The vamp leader, Jess, ran her long, pale fingers down his arms as she spoke.

“I still have a few tricks up my sleeves you undead bitch.” he spatted straining against his restraints.

She smiled cockily, “I can’t wait to see them, but until then it’s dinner time.”

Dean watched as she picked up a few jars filled with his blood. He was starting to lose strength and today was the first day he felt lightheaded from being drained. He did not have much longer and suddenly the pain within his chest became unbearable. Closing his eyes, he thought back to the night he met (Y/N).

Three years ago

Their lips smashed against one another as she pushed the door open to her house, “I… normally don’t do this…” she mumbled in between kisses.

Dean smiled against her neck as he pinned her against the door to shut it, “Glad you decided to try something new with me.”

The small whimpers and moans escaping her lips were driving him wild. He scooped her up wrapping her legs around his waist as she directed him to her bedroom. Never before had Dean wanted to spend hours worshiping a woman’s body but (Y/N) pulled something out of him that he never knew he was capable of. When they were both blissfully sated curled up by his side he looked down at her as the moonlight hit her beautiful face.

“You by the light is the greatest find in the world full of wrong. You're the thing that's right finally made it through the lonely to the other side.” he whispered his heart seized with fear and yet bursting with hope at once.

The next morning he found himself making a hearty breakfast for her and spending the entire day with her. When Sam called him about the case they were working, he looked over to (Y/N) curled up in a blanket next to him and did not want to leave her.

“Sweetheart, I have to go. My business partner just called to say he needs me for something.” he said pulling his boots on.

Disappointment flashed before her face before she nodded walking him over to the door, “Well Dean this was definitely the best twenty-four hours I’ve ever had. Maybe if… you know are in town again we could…”

Usually, Dean would have made empty promises of coming back to see her but he found himself writing his number on a receipt in his pocket.

“Text or call me so I have your number. Maybe we can go out again next week.” the words left his mouth made his skin crawl with nervousness.

However, his whole body relaxed seeing the breathtaking smile on her face, “Absolutely, you’ll hear from soon.”

The last thing he saw in his rearview mirror was (Y/N) standing against the door frame clutching his number to her chest.

Present Day

Dean was barely holding on as he went into his fifth day. He could no longer feel his feet and the ropes holding up his arms were cutting into his wrists. His lips were painfully dry and cracked as he ran his tongue over them. His vision blurred in and out as he tried to stay awake. Closing his eyes briefly, he saw (Y/N)’s beautiful face smiling at him. Her eyes vibrant shining brightly up a him and her cheeks slightly pink.

“Let go.” She whispered to him.

Just as he was going to a loud commotion came from the next room. Dean tried to open his eyes but they were just too heavy for him. (Y/N)’s voice floating through his ears again.

“Let go.”

“Dean! Dean open your eyes!” his cheek stung as something hit it hard making his eyes snap open.

He was met with the familiar hazel eyes of his brother Sam catching him as he fell limp into his arms. He felt Sam pick him up as he watched Eileen take out Jess with ease. They had come for him without even knowing where he was going to be. As Sam laid him in the back of the Impala he began mumbling.

“(Y/N). I need to see her. Tell her everything… (Y/N)...” everything went black just as he felt Baby taking off.

Dean slowly opened his eyes, feeling like his body had been put through a meat grinder. He looked over to see Sam sitting in a chair next to him with Eileen sitting across his lap. A small smile came on his face as his brother gently woke the woman he loved up pointing towards him.

She signed that she would be right back getting up and leaving the hospital room. Sam leaned forward his brow furrowed in worry, “I thought I lost you, man.”

Dean tried to talk but his throat burned as he squeaked out, “No way.”

Getting up to get him some water, Dean felt something squeeze his hand to his other side. Looking down, a raspy gasp escaped his lips seeing (Y/N)’s forehead on his hand. He quickly looked to Sam who was smiling from ear to ear.

“You kept repeating her name before you passed out. I looked her up in your phone as they wheeled you back into the emergency room. Dean…” Sam paused guilt passing over his eyes, “I had to tell her everything.”

He took a sip of water then said, “Good. Give us a few minutes.”

Sam squeezed his shoulder before leaving the room. Dean took a moment to just look down at her before running his other hand over her soft hair. (Y/N) looked around confused and then her eyes landed on him immediately filling with tears.

“Dean.” she whispered as he pulled her up next to him on the bed.

“Shhh.” he said as he held her while she cried again his chest.

“I thought… I thought I lost you.”

He swept her hair behind her ear shaking his head, “Never.”

“Dean, why didn’t you tell? What if your brother hadn’t gotten there in time?” she asked her voice frantic.

He pulled her lips to his before whispering, “My heart's in motion. Every word feels like a shooting star. I'm at the edge of my emotions watching the shadows burning in the dark and  I'm in love. And I'm terrified. For the first time, in the last time, in my only life.”

She bit her lip as she reached up running her fingers through his hair, “Dean I’m terrified to. Falling for you was like a whirlwind that I had only read about in books. I was scared that you were going to leave me at any moment. Now…”

“I only said it 'cause I mean it. I only mean 'cause it's true. So don't you doubt what I've been dreaming. 'Cause it fills me up and holds me close whenever I'm without you. You kept me alive and I can’t live my life without you. I’m terrified you won’t be able to handle my life and I’m terrified I won’t be able to give it up.” His heart monitor was going off the charts as he finally confessed what he had been holding back.

A nurse came rushing in, “Mr. Campbell, what is wrong?” she asked checking his vitals immediately.

Dean chuckled as (Y/N) had moved so the nurse could do her job, “I’m in love.”

He looked over to (Y/N) who wore a beautiful smile on her face then they both looked to the door where Sam was standing with Eileen, “About damn time!”

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @ladywinchester1967 @akshi8278 @ericaprice2008 @deans-baby-momma @spnbaby-67 @dean-winchesters-bacon @carryonmywaywardcaptain @-lovepeacenhope- @destiel745 @carribear31 @srsllydunnodoncare @whimsicalrobots @thisismysecrethappyplace @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @adoptdontshoppets @mrswhozeewhatsis @bella-ca @drakelover78 @imascio08 @pisces-cutie @dwgrl1903 @mannls @the-salty-asian @winchesterprincessbride @xostephanie @superromijn @witch-of-letters @time-travel-bouqet @screechingartisancashbailiff @myinconnelly1 @sister-winchesters99 @thekatherinewinchester @babykalika2001 @maddiepants @tumbler-tidbits @sandlee44 @destielhoneybee @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @thefaithfulwriter @stoneyggirl @supernaturalginger @emoryhemsworth @baby7879 @wednesdayismyfunday @team-free-will-you-idjiot @atc74

#angelina’s duets reboot challenge #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #fluff #angst

[amanda-teaches]

Almost Paradise

Summary: Dean finds himself looking at pictures of old loves. Will he ever be able to find that paradise again?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Square filled: Feelings Accidentally Revealed for @spnfluffbingo​, Kissed to Keep Quiet for @spndeanbingo​ and “I’m sorry, did I step on your moment?” for @spnquotebingo​

Word Count: 1558

Warnings: A little angst and Dean beating up on himself, one swear word, the rest is fluffy confessions and stuff with just a hint of smut

A/N: This is for the incomparable @atc74​‘s Duets Reboot Challenge. I got Almost Paradise by Mike Reno and Ann Wilson, so you’re getting some romance today. I hope y’all enjoy!

He hadn’t meant to pull out the photos, didn’t even know why he still had them. Lisa was on top, of course, pictures of her and Ben, and the three of them together, but, underneath, there were others. Cassie, his first love, Robin, his first kiss, Jo...so many abandoned chances, lost futures. Futures lost because of him.

“Hey, Dean, you okay in there?”

He swallowed hard, shoving the pictures back into the box, which he hastily threw under the bed just as the door opened, silhouetting Y/N standing in the dim, hallway light.

He glanced down at the floor, quickly standing from where he was perched on the edge of the bed. “Uh, Y/N, yeah...what’s up?”

She studied him carefully for a second, eyebrows furrowing with unspoken questions. “Nothing. I just wanted to check on you. You seemed a little weird earlier.”

He cleared his throat, his eyes landing everywhere but hers. “I’m fine. Long day is all.”

She hesitated for a second, and he could tell without even looking that she didn’t believe him. “Okay. I’ll, uh, see you in the morning?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, not even bothering to wait for a response before turning his back on her. It wasn’t until he heard the door close behind him that he let out his breath, bending back down to pick up the box. He lifted the lid one last time, his hand falling on the one picture he hadn’t looked at yet, the one that had long-since become crinkled and worn from years of handling. 

Y/N.

Falling in love with her hadn’t been instantaneous. It wasn’t the lightning striking, all-incomposing realization he’d expected. It was a series of soft smiles, late nights, deep laughs, and tender hugs. It was bonding over shared interests and fighting over food preferences. It was a friendship that had grown into so much more, more than anything he’d ever experienced with any of the others.

He fingered the tears on the edges of the picture and let his finger roam, tracing her smile. It was from that day at the beach five years ago, her eyes squinting into the sunlight, her hair windswept all around her. He was pretty sure she’d never looked more radiant.

His smile at the memory quickly faded as it turned to sadness. Placing the picture back in the box, he pursed his lips, steeling himself once again. It was a fool’s dream to think he could ever have anything with Y/N. Whatever chance he’d had was long gone after everything they’d been through, everything he’d done. Friendship was all he could ever expect from her, and, if he really loved her, he’d have to accept that.

He sighed, and placed the cover back on the box, not noticing how the picture of Y/N fluttered out and landed on the floor as he stood up. Walking quickly to the chest of drawers, he put the box back in its place, in the past, where it belonged. He didn’t have any right to dream anything different.

I thought that dreams belonged to other men

'Cause each time I got close

They'd fall apart again

I feared my heart would beat in secrecy

I faced the nights alone

Oh, how could I have known

That all my life I only needed you?

When Y/N had volunteered to go pick up the laundry from his room the next morning, Dean hadn’t thought much of it. They often traded off the chores they did around the bunker, and he was pretty sure she’d do anything to get him on cooking duty. He knew she’d been angling for a full-on breakfast buffet for days. But, when she didn’t return to the library after 20 minutes, he started to get worried.

Putting down his coffee, he made his way towards the laundry room first, finding it empty. He backtracked to her room, but it was the same result there. A little ripple of fear ran through him, and he picked up the pace, practically running down the hallway to his room. When he got there, he threw open the door, his chest falling in relief when he found her sitting there, at the foot of his bed.

But, then he noticed what she was holding in her hand. The picture.

“Uh, hey, Y/N,” he started, clearing his throat when he felt the shakiness in his voice. “I thought you were grabbing the laundry.”

She looked up at him, uncertainty written all over her face. “Why do you have this? Isn’t this from years ago, that day at the…”

“The beach, yeah,” he confirmed, nodding his head, but, again, refusing to make eye contact. 

She wouldn’t let him. Standing up, she crossed the room in just a few steps, stopping right in front of him. “Dean, why do you have this crumpled up picture of me laying on the floor of your room?”

His mind went straight to any number of excuses, but then he looked into her eyes, her beautiful, vulnerable eyes, and he knew he could never lie to her. “It’s on the floor because I must’ve dropped it earlier. It’s crumpled, because…” He took a deep breath. No going back now. “Because, that’s how a picture gets when you look at it all the time.”

“You look at a picture of me all the time?” She looked back down at it, and he could see her brain working overtime to process the reality of what he’d just said.

Well, shit, may as well jump into the deep end now. “Yeah, I keep it in a box in my dresser with pictures of all of the women I’ve...loved.”

Her eyes shot up to his.

He just kept going. “But, I guess love isn’t really the right word, because I was never really in love with any of the others. I mean, I thought I was at the time or maybe I thought I could be, but I never really was, at least not the real thing, not like I feel for you.” He kept plunging ahead, unable to stop now that he’d finally gotten started. “And, I know you don’t feel the same way about me, but I'm in love with you, Y/N. Have been for years. I mean, obviously, this wasn’t how I wanted you to find out, not that I wanted you to at all, but, now that you know, I…”

His words were cut off by the touch of her lips to his, hesitant at first, but the second he began to respond, she leaned in, weaving her hands into his hair, her tongue sweeping into his mouth. He groaned and pulled her closer, his mind going blank in her arms. When she broke the kiss and leaned back, all he could do was stare at her, dumbfounded. “Was that? Wait, what just happened?”

She grinned. “Sorry, you were talking too much.”

“Talking too much…” he echoed, trailing off, still completely confused. She must’ve read it on his face, because she reached up and brushed her knuckles down the side of his face, leaning in for another kiss.

“I love you too, Dean.”

It seems like perfect love's so hard to find

I'd almost given up

You must have read my mind

And all these dreams I saved for a rainy day

They're finally coming true

I'll share them all with you

'Cause now we hold the future in our hand

And in your arms salvation's not so far away

It's getting closer

Closer every day

Dean tightened his arms around Y/N’s sleeping body, feeling her begin to stir. He inhaled, breathing her in, and dropped his lips to her neck, relishing the small moan that fell from her lips. “Mmm...mornin’, baby.”

“Good morning,” she said with a smile, turning lazily in his arms until they were face to face. “I like waking up in your arms.”

“And, I like you waking up in my arms,” he agreed, grinning as he leaned in to steal another kiss. “Damn, why haven’t we been doing this the whole time?”

She laughed. “Hm, I don’t know, maybe because you kept a picture of me in your underwear drawer for five years instead of just telling me how you felt?”

“Hey!” he shot back, feigning offense. “You never said anything either. Besides, I think I deserve some props for saying something now. You know, I had this whole dramatic speech thing going on.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I step on your moment? My poor baby.” She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, softening the tease with a kiss to his chin that quickly turned passionate as it found its way to his mouth. His hands began to roam down her body, drawing a whine from deep within her. “Dean, please…”

“What’s the rush?” he drawled, slowing the movement of his hands as he maneuvered her until she was laying flat on her back, his weight propped up by his knee so that he was hovering above her. “We’ve got plenty of time, baby. In fact, I think we’ve pretty much got forever.” 

Almost paradise

We're knockin' on heaven's door

Almost paradise

How could we ask for more?

I swear that I can see forever in your eyes

Paradise

Forevers- @hamartiamacguffin​ @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester​ @katymacsupernatural​ @impandagrl​ @cyrilconnelly​ @impala-dreamer​ @castielhasthetardis​ @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes​ @be-amaziing​ @jalove-wecallhimdean​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @mysterious-398​ @hannahindie​ @emoryhemsworth​ @ohmychuckitssamanddean​ @wi-deangirl77​ @carryonmywaywardcaptain​ @ericaprice2008​ @masksandtruths​ @roxyspearing​ @squirrel-moose-winchester​ @sweetpeamoose​ @babypieandwhiskey​ @deans-dirty-writer​ @roxy-davenport​ @heyitscam99​ @starry-chaos @spnbaby-67​ @mogaruke​ @atc74​ @dolphincliffs​ @closetspngirl​ @maddiepants​ @pinknerdpanda​ @focusonspn​ @deanwanddamons​

Dean Tags- @akshi8278​ @whimsicalrobots​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @alexwinchester23​

#angelina's duets reboot challenge #spnfluffbingo #spndeanbingo #spnquotebingo #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #wow it's been so long since I posted I almost forgot how to format a fic

[katymacsupernatural]

Drowns the Whiskey

Dean Winchester x Reader

1000 Words

Written for: @atc74 and her Duets Challenge. I’m so sorry, I thought I had already posted this, but it was just sitting in my drafts!!!

My song: Drowns the whiskey by Jason Aldean and Miranda Lamber

Summary: Whiskey is the only thing that can help Y/N forget. 

Warnings: Angst, surprise ending

The amber liquid swirled in the glass, sloshing slightly over the side. Droplets formed on your hand, and you fought against the urge to lick it up, hating the waste. Signaling the bartender, you downed the shot, welcoming the slight burn as it slid down your throat, pulling in your stomach.

It was another run-down bar, in another no-name town. It didn’t matter what the interior looked like. As long as it had some stools at the bar, and a never-ending supply of whiskey, you were content.

The whiskey had helped at first. Drowning the memories of a man who had been your everything. The strong liquid had taken the edge of the pain away. At first. And now? No matter how many sips of whiskey, those mossy green eyes still haunted you.

“Dean,” you whispered, the pain cutting through the whiskey, stinging at the corner of your eyes. Closing your eyes, your hand grasping the shot glass so tight it could have cracked, you gave in to them. Dean, sitting in the driver seat of the Impala, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the rolled-down window. He smiled over at you, his eyes crinkling up. “This is nice, isn’t it?” He had asked. “You, me, and the open road.”

“Another,” You told the bartender, pushing away the empty glass. He complied, and you waved at the bottle. “Keep that here.”

He sighed, setting the bottle down in front of you. Tossing back the shot, you welcomed the numbness as it began to take a hold of you. But it faded away as the memory of Dean’s lips against your skin had your hand trembling as you poured another round. Dean, and those plump lips had driven you to distraction more times than you could count. A tear slipped down your cheek as the liquid slid down your throat. 

“Damn you whiskey,” you muttered. It was why you were here. You were looking for a release, a way to forget because the memories were too much to bear. 

“Excuse me?” The man sitting next to you asked. “Miss, are you alright?”

“Nope,” you answered, taking another shot of whiskey. 

He backed off, leaving you to the only thing you cared about. Whiskey. But even the strong alcohol wasn’t your friend tonight. No matter how much you drank, or how much it burned, Dean was still there, at the front of your mind. Remind you of how much you missed him. How much it hurt that he was gone, leaving you alone.

You wished that fateful day could be burned from your mind. But it would take something stronger than whiskey. The day everything had been taken from you. Your love, your hope, your reason for going on. When that knife had slid into Dean’s chest, you had been helpless to stop it. You had watched him die right in front of you, and now you couldn’t sleep without seeing those mossy green eyes go glassy. Watching as he took his last painful breath.

Reaching for the whiskey bottle, you poured another shot of whiskey, trying to dull the tight ache around your heart. Wishing that it would take away the memories. The good and the bad. They both hurt right now, and you weren’t sure you could stand to hurt anymore. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. No doubt Sam calling once again, trying to check up on you. But you couldn’t talk to him. He reminded you too much of the good life, the life that you would give everything up for just to have Dean alive once again. His call went to voicemail, your mailbox probably full. 

With the shot glass resting in your hand, you thought back to your last happy memory of Dean. Before the mark had changed him. When the two of you had slipped away for a night to yourself. Parked in the back row of the drive-in, more interested in the feel of his body against yours, you had spent the evening wrapped in his arms. It had been perfect, but now even that memory had tears spilling down your cheek, and you quickly raised the shot glass to try and push the pain back.

“What’s a pretty girl like you got to cry about?” A deep voice, so familiar and haunting asked as a callused hand pushed the glass down. 

Through the tears, you slowly peered up, your heart catching as a person you had never expected to see again stood beside you. “Dean?” You asked, wondering if he was a figment of your whiskey-fueled brain.

“In the flesh,” he answered proudly. “With a few upgrades.”

Your heart hammered as you looked him over. He seemed a little leaner, stronger than before. Wearing that soft maroon flannel shirt you loved so much. His hair seemed longer, wilder, but it looked good. Smiling, you let your gaze drop to his eyes, gasping when they flicked to black.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278   @bi-danvers0  @cap-just-said-language @colette2537   @deansgirl215  @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller  @krys198478 @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie @mlovesstories @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk  @mrspeacem1nusone @nothinbuttrouble2 @ria132love @ruprecht0420  @screechingartisancashbailiff   @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @team-free-will-you-idjiot @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @torn-and-frayed @tricksterdean @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666

Forever Tags: @aditimukul @alexwinchester23 @algud @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove   @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @camelotandastronauts @caswinchester2000 @cpag7 @chelsea072498  @closetspngirl @deanwanddamons @docharleythegeekqueen @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008  @esoltis280   @foxyjwls007 @gh0stgurl @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek  @heartislubbingdubbing @heyitscam99 @hobby27 @horsegirly99 @imsuperawkward @internationalmusicteacher @iwriteaboutdean  @jayankles @jensen-gal @justsomedreaming @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @linki-locks11 @littleblue5mcdork  @lowlyapprentice   @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @mogaruke @monkeymcpoopoo @musiclovinchic93  @nanie5​   @percussiongirl2017​ @plaid-lover-bay25​   @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick​ @roxyspearing​  @samanddeanmyheroes​ @sandlee44​ @shamelesslydean @simonsbluee @sillesworldofwriting​ @sgarrett49​ @spnbaby-67​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @spnwoman​   @superbadassnatural​ @thatcrazybookwormgeek​   @thewinchesterchronicles​ @vvinch3st3r​  @whimsicalrobots​ @winchester-writes​ @zombiewerewolfqueen​

#angelina's duets reboot challenge #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #supernatural angst #katy writes #spn fanfic #dean fanfic #dean x reader #supernatural fanfic

[atc74]

Angelina’s Duets Challenge Reboot

Thank you first to all of you that follow me! And second to everyone that participated in my challenge!

Here is the masterlist of all the fics submitted. 

Meant to Be - Meant to Be - Bebe Rexha & FGL @crashdevlin​

The Shallows - Shallow - Gaga & Bradley Cooper @luci-in-trenchcoats​

Drowns the Whiskey - Drowns The Whiskey - Jason Aldean & Miranda Lambert @katymacsupernatural​

Dust to Dust  - Dust to Dust - The Civil Wars @there-must-be-a-lock​

A Misery of Our Own Making - Poison & Wine - The Civil Wars @stusbunker​​

Taste  - Starving - Hailee Steinfield & Grey, feat. Zedd (yeah I know that’s three) @wingedcatninja​

Everytime You Leave, I Hit Rock Bottom - Rock Bottom  - Hailee Steinfeld & DNCE @arazialotis​

Valentine’s Day Sucks - The Next Time I Fall - Peter Cetera & Amy Grant @supernatural-jackles​

Terrified - Terrified - Katherine McPhee & Jason Reeves @waywardnerd67​

Got a Good Feeling - Something Bad - Carrie Underwood & Miranda Lambert @plaidstiel-wormstache​

Big Girl Now - Big Girl Now - NKOTB & Lady Gaga @wi-deangirl77​

Because of You - Because of You - Reba McEntire & Kelly Clarkson @waywardjoy​

Stay - Don’t You Want to Stay - Jason Aldean & Kelly Clarkson @evansrogerskitten​

Jackson - Jackson - Johnny Cash & June Carter Cash @alleiradayne

Stay - Like I’m Gonna Lose You - Meghan Trainor & John Legend @iwantthedean

The Girl Is Mine - The Girl Is Mine - Michael Jackson & Paul McCartney (ME)

Almost Paradise - Almost Paradise - Mike Reno & Ann Wilson @amanda-teaches

Say Something - Say Something -  Justin Timberlake & Chris Stapleton @supernatural-jackles​

Missing/Late Entries: 

A Safe Place to Land - John Legend & Sara Bareilles @67-chevy-baby​ 

Don’t Know Much - Linda Ronstadt & Aaron Neville @foxyjwls007​​

I Knew You Were Waiting - George Michael & Aretha Franklin @pinknerdpanda​​

#angelina's duets reboot challenge #angelina's 4k #thank you

[iwantthedean]

Stay

Summary: Zephaniah plans to run, but a single thought reminds her that her time with Dean may be limited.  Pairing: Dean x OFC Zephaniah Word Count: 965 (with lyrics) Warnings: Mentions of torture, implied smut ... I think that’s it? Square Filled: Free Space for @spntfwbingo​ Challenge: Angelina’s Duets Reboot Challenge. My song is “Like I’m Gonna Lose You” by Meghan Trainor & John Legend. Thank you to my lovely @atc74​ for allowing me to write for this pairing!  A/N: This pairing is from my series The Demon’s Pet and its sequel Angels Among Us. This is meant to take place towards the middle of part one of AAU, but I think you’re okay to read it without having read the two series, if you’re so inclined. 

GIF found via Google Image Search. 

In the blink of an eye, just a whisper of smoke, you could lose everything — the truth is, you never know. 

They’re here. They’re coming after you. They’ll kill Dean, Sam — whoever they have to kill to get to you. 

Zephaniah tossed and turned, but no matter what position she was in, she couldn’t make the thoughts stop. Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured demons and angels alike coming into the bunker, uninvited and unannounced. Creatures she didn’t know the names of massacred everything she held dear before dragging her away from the life she had come to know. 

Dean’s hand grabbed hers when she sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed. “Where’re you going?”

She squeezed his hand. “Just getting some water. I’ll come back.”

He drifted back to sleep then, and Zephaniah padded out to the kitchen for that glass of water. She drank it down in a few gulps and refilled it. She sipped at the cool liquid, waiting in vain for her thoughts to slow down, to calm. To be anything but blood and death and loss. 

With a sigh, she finally said out loud the thing she hadn’t wanted to admit up till now. “I can’t do this.”

Zephaniah poured the water down the drain and left her glass in the sink. She quietly worked her way back to the room, knelt down next to her side of the bed, and pulled out the bag she kept packed and ready so that she could leave at a moment’s notice. The jeans she had worn earlier in the day were discarded to the floor not far away; she draped them over her arm and went for the bedroom door again. 

But she couldn’t leave without one last glance at Dean. He was still asleep, soft snores sounding every few breaths. Zephaniah smiled despite herself. They were not the sort of couple to speak of the love between them — hell, they didn’t even call themselves a couple. They just were. They were Zephaniah and Dean. Their connection was unmistakable, unbreakable. Even when Dean had been a demon and tortured her, Zephaniah couldn’t bring herself to let him go. 

So why was it so easy to leave him now? She had done it twice before. Twice since Dean had been cured and Castiel had restored her from the scars and marks that had been her norm for so long. The first time was only a couple of days, but that week she was gone … she would never forget how angry Dean was when she returned. 

“You didn’t leave a note or anything! Did it ever occur to you that I’ve been there when you’ve been taken? That I know the kinds of things that are waiting out there for you? For fuck’s sake, Zeph!”

She had replied with that awful thing that she wished, more than anything, she could take back. Zephaniah had apologized, and so had Dean, in his own way. She  had promised to never leave again without telling him. Standing there now in the dark, looking at the little bit of his face illuminated by the hallway light, Zephaniah couldn’t bring herself to break that promise. 

What if you leave and come back, and Dean isn’t here? What if they come and kill him anyway?

The thought hadn’t occurred to her before now. Demons and angels and any number of creatures could still come for Dean and Sam, demanding to know where Zephaniah had gone. The Winchesters wouldn’t know, and they would be useless to anyone and anything pursuing her. There would be no reason to keep them alive. 

I’m gonna love you like I’m gonna lose you. I’m gonna hold you like I’m saying goodbye. Wherever we’re standing, I won’t take you for granted ‘cause we never know when, when we’ll run out time. 

Zephaniah tossed her jeans back to the floor and shoved the bag back under the bed. She  tucked her legs under the covers and scooted closer to him, laying her head on his chest and pulling his arm around her. She kissed his stubbled jawline, again and again, until she couldn’t take it anymore. Then, she kissed his lips. Soft tears wet their joined lips, rousing Dean from his sleep. 

“Zeph?” he muttered, reaching for the switch on the bedside lamp. “Hey, are you — are you crying?”

They were both sitting up now; Zephaniah leaned into him, setting her chin on his shoulder and her arms around his neck. Dean held her tight in return, kissed her ear, and begged her to tell him what was going on. 

“Bad dream?” Dean finally asked. 

“Something like that,” Zephaniah whispered, pulling away and wiping her tears. She took his face in her hands and looked him in the eye. “I love you, Dean. I know we don’t say that. I know we aren’t those kind of people. But I need you to know it. Whatever happens next, whoever and whatever comes for me — I love you.”

Dean’s lips pursed together. He pushed his fingers into her hair, searched her face for any sign that would negate what she had said. Zephaniah knew he was scared; she was terrified. 

Finally, Dean whispered the words back to her. “I love you, Zephaniah.”

She pressed her lips against his then, hard and wanting. They had always been good at this part, and it had become one of the ways they could show each other how they felt without having to say the words. 

Tonight, Zephaniah didn’t need the reassurance. She only needed to feel Dean’s skin on hers, have him as close as possible. She needed to make these memories so she had something to hold onto when they ran out of time. 

Keep It Original: @ashleymalfoy​ @atc74​ @melbrandes​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @illisea​ @ravenesque​ @spnbaby-67​

#spntfwbingo #ang's duets reboot challenge #dean #dean winchester #ofc #dean x ofc #dean winchester x ofc #dean x zephaniah #dean winchester x zephaniah #spnfanficpond #jelly fish #iwantthedeanupdates #iwantthedean's tag team #all my lovelies #that's my queue

[spnfanficpond]

I recently celebrated the 3 year anniversary of my first fic and am coming up on 4 wonderful years of being here on Tumblr. And last month I reached a new milestone of 4,000 of you amazing, sweet little nuggets following me! 

#I'm running a challenge and my fellow pondies should come check it out #submission

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Author’s Faves: 

Marked: BDSM, honesty, trust, trauma, healing, and what it really means to love someone. ~83,000 words, plus assorted codas/timestamps. Extremely explicit.

Let’s Get Married: Dean returning from Purgatory. ~850 words, PG-13.

Constellations: Incredibly fluffy not-too-explicit smut. 1250 words, mature.

Coming Home: In which Dean is fine. Totally fine. No, really. 4980 words, explicit.

1000+ words: 

Floor It: Edging, teasing, orgasm denial, objectification, so much dirty talk, Sub!Dean and a fluffy chaser. ~1700 words, explicit.

Show Me: Dean x Reader x Cas. The softest. Dean Winchester worship in the vague shape of a threesome. ~1050 words, hard R rating.

Hot Chocolate (and Goddamn Marshmallows): Christmas-themed marshmallow fluff. ~2530 words, rated G.

Trust: Chapter 7 of Marked from Dean’s perspective. Can be read as a standalone. ~3130 words, explicit.

Dust To Dust: For Angelina’s Duets Challenge Reboot, inspired by the Civil Wars song of the same name. Skinny-dipping, bonfires, sneak-attack angst. ~2250 words, rated R.

500-1000ish words: 

The Game - “Sexy rules.” 612 words, explicit.

Vacation: Uh. What it says on the tin? Sub!Dean, edging, and a beach house. 806 words, explicit.

Pollen: Endverse Dean x Reader x Cas + sex pollen. 750 words, explicit.

Envy: Dean x Reader and Sam x Reader. Darker than my average. Supremely filthy. ~990 words, explicit. 

The Contest / The Flannel / The First Date: Dean x Reader miniseries. Inexcusably fluffy trio of could-stand-alone pieces. Three moments in a relationship, all adorable and sweet and fun. Not listed in timeline order, but the order I think they work best. ~600 / ~1200 / ~1000 words respectively, rated G. 

Tiger Teeth: Inspired by the Walk The Moon song, with angst to spare. ~730 words, PG-13.

Choose-Your-Own-Winchester Kinkmas Eve Ficlets: Three “either-chester” Christmas-themed kink ficlets.

Mirror: Watching in a mirror, ~1120 words, explicit.

Share: Sub sharing, ~620 words, rated R.

Straps: Pegging, ~500 words, rated R.

Drabbles (500ish words or less): 

Let Her Under Your Skin: Dancing in the kitchen. Fluff with a bit of filth for seasoning. 570 words, mature. 

Zorro: “Sometimes you just wanna get slapped during sex by a girl wearing a Zorro mask.” 329 words, explicit. 

Demon Blade: Demon!Dean + knife play and pegging. 296 words, mature. 

The Beginning Of A Beautiful Friendship: Enemies to lovers. 220 words, mature. 

The Afterparty: Rockstar!Winchesters threesome. 280 words, explicit. 

Dessert: Inappropriate thoughts about Dean’s mouth. 286 words, mature. 

Hot and Cold: Sub!Dean, impact play, coming untouched. 433 words, explicit. 

Ten and Two / Six and Eleven: sub!Dean + teasing + coming untouched. 446 / 575 words respectively, mature. 

Let Me Leave: Dean angst and a lil pain with the pleasure. 293 words, explicit.

Downpour: First date + getting caught in the rain. 522 words, PG. 

Gone: Memories and whiskey and self-loathing. 495 words, rated R.   

Silk: Dean + silk lingerie. 450 words, mature.

Rag Doll: Demon Dean + overstimulation. 362 words, explicit.

Good Girl: Sexting while Dean’s away on a hunt. D/s themes, literally nothing but dirty talk. ~470 words, explicit. 

oh baby: Angsty AF drabble inspired by the LCD Soundsystem song. ~450 words, explicit-ish. 

Too Late: Fluff Friday drabble. Injured reader, Dean being protective. ~540 words, rated G. 

I’ll Be Here: Fluff Friday drabble: falling asleep on the couch together. ~280 words, G. 

*

Back to the main masterlist here.

#spn #dean x reader #spn fic #masterlist

[67-chevy-baby]

Fic Challenges Masterlist

Below you will find all of the challenges I’ve participated in. I will make the fic titles links once they are written and posted. :) 

Ugly Sweaters and Traditions - Dean x Reader - For kittenofdoomage’s Kitten Canon Christmas Challenge

I’ll Show You - Dean x Reader - For thehoneybeecastielfollows’ Elliana’s 400 Followers Fanciful Fluff Challenge

Take Away My Heartache - Destiel - For rockhoochie’s 1k Followers Writing Challenge

Remedy - Jared x Reader - For saxxxology’s Vol 1 Writing Challenge

Cradle Our Desire - Jensen x Reader - For saxxxology’s Vol 1 Writing Challenge

Hand Of A Hopeful Stranger - Jensen x Reader - For atc74′s Angelina’s Duets Reboot Challenge

You Knew The Rules... - Misha x Reader - For there-must-be-a-lock’s Lou’s 2K(inky) Celebration

Challenge Accepted - Dean x Beka - For impala-dreamer’s End of the Year Quickie Challenge

Pieces Of Us - Dean x Cas - For impala-dreamer’s Make Me Feel It Challenge

#challenge masterlist #'pala writes