#Dean Winchester tried to be your dad

[little-diable]

Not a Ghost - Dean Winchester (smut)

I feel like my Dean fics are always just pwp, but I always try to weave in some plot points, promise. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: For the past ten years, Dean had been forced to accept that she was dead – dead because John hadn't been able to rescue her in time. But what happens when he stumbles upon her in a bar? Not a ghost, but alive and breathing.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, reunion, John is a dick as always

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.3k words)

“You’re staring, it’s getting creepy man,” Sam murmured his words as he gulped down another sip of his beer, eyes following his brother’s line of sight. Dean didn’t reply, eyes fixated on a woman standing a few feet away. The bar was crowded, packed with people neither Sam nor Dean wanted to interact with, and yet Dean’s eyes had been following her around ever since they had stepped into the bar almost an hour ago. “Dean, c’mon man.”

Sam’s hand met his brother’s arm, hoping to finally gain his attention, but Dean barely reacted. The older Winchester brother had his eyebrows furrowed, hand wrapped around the beer bottle he had barely drank from. It wasn’t the first time Sam had caught his brother admiring a woman, god, Dean was famous for loving “frisky women” after all, and yet this was something new, something Sam couldn’t understand. 

“Excuse me.” Dean rose to his feet, leaving his confused brother behind without explaining a thing to him. Sam could only watch Dean move through the crowd, coming to a halt in front of the woman whose face Sam hadn’t seen just yet. It was too loud for Sam to pick up on the words Dean spoke, words that forced the woman to slowly turn towards him. 

“What the fuck?” With the words rolling off Sam’s tongue, he jumped to his feet, full of confusion, not understanding what was going on. But before Sam could reach the two, she had tugged on Dean’s hand, pulling the man out into the cold. 

“How is this possible?” Dean’s words dripped with confusion, arms crossed in front of his chest as if he was trying to protect himself from her. It was too dark for (y/n) to pick up on the tears welling up in his piercingly green eyes, overwhelmed by the sadness washing through him, the sadness he had tried to swallow for the past decade. 

She wasn’t supposed to be here, wasn’t supposed to be breathing, wasn’t supposed to be alive. 

“How is what possible? You have the fucking nerve to speak to me again after ten fucking years of silence? You packed up and left, Dean!” Her angry words left Dean choking, taking a step back as if she had pushed him. For a second neither of them spoke, engulfed in silence and the sound of Sam slowly stepping closer. The taller brother kept his distance, yet he found himself just as overwhelmed by his emotions, unsure how to react.  

“What are you talking about? You are supposed to be dead, I mourned you for ten years, and now I find you here, alive.” Dean’s words dripped with anger, but Sam could clearly pick up on the sadness that thumped through his brother’s veins. This was fucked up, another level of fucked up.

“Dead? Dean, why should I be dead?” No longer was (y/n) close to screaming, she took a step closer to Dean who struggled to keep standing still, body begging him to move away from her. If Sam hadn’t been with him, he would have been sure that this was just his mind fucking with him, hallucinating the woman he had once been engaged to, the woman he had mourned for a decade. But as much as Dean wanted to speak up, to explain what was going on, he couldn’t, too choked up. 

(Y/n)’s now glassy eyes flickered to Sam’s, desperate for an explanation as she watched the taller brother take another step closer to interfere. He kept his voice calm as he spoke up, eyes flickering between Dean, who kept staring at her, and (y/n), “It was a Tuesday evening, dad came home after his hunt with you and told us that you died that day, that he had burned your body because there wasn’t any time to lose. He explained every detail, how you had been torn to shreds, how he had tried to save you, but was too hurt himself to react quick enough. I stitched him up that evening, he looked horrible, littered with scars, so there was no doubt, he must have told the truth.”

The gasp that left (y/n) was almost louder than the sob that tried to leave Dean, reminded of the day that haunted him every single night. Tears dripped down both their cheeks, eyes now unable to break contact. 

“He, uhm,” she had to clear her throat, trying to wipe away her tears with her sleeves. “That day he told me that you no longer wanted the engagement, but didn’t know how to tell me and that you left that night with Sam. I was so angry, so I also packed up and left, I couldn’t stay. John was with me for a few weeks.” Both brothers could still remember how they had packed their things, how Dean had been driven on by the need to disappear from the house that reminded him of (y/n), and how Sam knew that he couldn’t stay away from Dean, not knowing if he’d try to hurt himself. They hadn’t tried to get in touch with John for a while, guided by the anger of him not being able to save (y/n). 

“I will kill him.” Goosebumps rose on Sam’s skin at the tone of Dean’s voice, an unfamiliar tone, full of hatred. But Sam couldn’t blame Dean for his anger, he had been right there, watching his brother suffer for years on end, trying to drown his hurt in alcohol and one-night stands, addicted to hunts and the distraction they offered. Before Sam could even try to speak up, (y/n) had slung her arms around Dean’s waist, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. 

……

“It’s alright, Dean, I won’t let you leave. I promise.” Her voice echoed through the apartment, eyes set on Dean’s face. Sam had made his way back to the motel he and Dean were staying in, while Dean had driven (y/n) and himself back to her place. Neither of them could stop touching one another, still not believing that they were reunited after all these years. 

“I don’t know what to believe if I’m being honest, sweetheart. Deep down I always knew he was fucked up, but this? All for what?” Only now did Dean pick up on the hesitation tugging on her features. He rose to his feet with a huff, hand combing through his hair as he growled a raspy “Unbelievable”. 

“In those few weeks, he stayed with me, he tried to convince me that he was the better choice, that you had nothing on him. Of course, I didn’t give in, I guess that’s why he eventually left. And I haven’t heard from him since.” She didn’t dare meet his angry gaze, fumbling with her shaking fingers. (Y/n) tried to stop herself from crying once again, knowing that as much as she had struggled the past years, Dean has had it much worse, mourning the person he had wanted to marry. 

“I should have known, he was always fascinated by you, some weird obsession I should have paid more attention to. I am sorry, sweetheart, so sorry.” Dean’s hand found her chin, forcing her to lift her gaze. She didn’t get a chance to reply, words stuck in her throat as Dean kissed her breathlessly. The moan clawing through her urged Dean on, pressing her against the kitchen island. 

(Y/n)’s fingers found their way to his hair, tugging on his roots with as much strength that forced a growl out of Dean. They couldn’t part, didn’t want to break the kiss, it had been too long since they had gotten the chance to communicate their emotions in a raw way like this. But as much as they wanted to keep on kissing one another, they were also desperate for more, for Dean to bury himself deep inside of her. 

“How do you want me?” (Y/n)’s hazy eyes found his piercing green ones, tongue running along her lower lip. She pondered over his words, not once in the past ten years had she believed that she’d get another chance to be loved by Dean Winchester, and now she didn’t know what she wanted. Too many things she needed, too many choices he offered her. His fingers worked on her shirt, tugging it over her head, groaning as his eyes found her chest. Within seconds he had ripped her bra from her frame, lips finding her hardening nipples. 

“Fast, rough, fuck, I don’t care. I just need you inside of me.” She had ached for that familiar stretch, had ached for the feeling of his cock filling her, something she had thought of for all these years. Dean hummed, letting the sound vibrate on her skin as he palmed her breasts, while he nudged his hardening cock against her clothed cunt. Curses ripped through (y/n), head rolling back to let go of another heavy moan. 

Without another warning, Dean pulled away, turned her around and pressed her front down against the cold surface of her kitchen island. With quick fingers he had pushed her jeans and panties down her legs before she heard him unzip his jeans, before she heard him fumble with a condom wrapper, knowing that as much as he wanted to feel every part of her, they couldn’t risk anything, not now at least. 

“I’ll give you fast and rough, baby, but after that I’ll take my sweet time with you.” Dean had pushed into her before she could reply, forcing a deep moan out of the both of them. Both their bodies needed to adjust to one another, even though she was dripping for him, folds covered in her arousal, her cunt still struggled to take all of him. Deep breaths left them both, minds torn between the sweet sensation and the overwhelming wave of emotions clashing through them.

“Move, please. Fuck me like you would have done all these years.” The growl leaving Dean made her breath hitch in her chest, fingers reaching for the edge of the kitchen island to hold on. He pulled out of her only to thrust into her with more force, set on leaving bruises on her hips with the ferocious pace he was about to build. 

(Y/n)’s walls clenched around him, fluttering with every thrust that had her seeing stars. No other man had ever fucked her like Dean. Dean, the one she had always loved. Dean, the man she had wanted to grow old with. Dean, the man who had mourned a woman who had waited for his return for all these years. If there was one thing (y/n) was determined about, it was making things right, making up for all these lost years. 

Their bodies met with every thrust, allowing Dean to fuck her deep, hard, fast. It was perfect, cheesy almost with their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. Dean’s fingertips were buried in the flesh of her hips, set on leaving bruises that matched those the kitchen island would leave behind. He was focused on marking her up, claiming her like he had done over a decade ago. 

“Jesus, sweetheart, you feel so good. I dreamt of this almost every night.” Dean’s raspy voice left her groaning, eyes squeezed shut to try and hold on. She didn’t want to cum just yet, didn’t want to let go when Dean fucked her this ruthlessly. (Y/n) was too choked up to reply, wanted to tell him how she had always dreamt of him, of the way he touched her, but she couldn’t, she could only moan for him. 

“You’re still so fucking tight, squeezing me just right. You’re close, aren’t you, baby?” An almost silent “Yes” managed to leave (y/n), coaxing a chuckle out of Dean as he let his fingers find her clit, rubbing her bundle to push her over the edge. She loudly moaned for him, giving into the call of her arising high with her eyes squeezed shut, walls clamping down on his cock. 

Dean kept fucking her, forcing his cock deeper into her with every thrust. Moans kept clawing through the both of them as (y/n) came on his cock, allowing Dean to fuck her through her high in search of his own. He kept thrusting into her, head rolling back as his cock twitched, about to fill the condom. The curses leaving Dean made her walls flutter once again, knowing that he’d fuck her all through the night. 

With a huff, Dean pulled out of her, throwing away the condom as she slowly turned around, facing him. He moved back towards (y/n) with a smile glued to his lips, hands cupping her warm cheeks to pull her in for a slow kiss.

“You’re still wearing it.” (Y/n) murmured the words as she reached for his hand, looking at the ring she had pushed onto his finger as he had asked her to marry him, wanting Dean to also wear a ring. Tears welled up in (y/n)’s eyes, thinking of all these years they had lost, years they could have spent together rather than apart.

“Of course I do, I couldn’t take it off, I didn’t even try to.” (Y/n) gave him a soft push back, redressed herself quickly before disappearing in another room – only to reappear seconds later. His green eyes found the ring he had bought her over ten years ago, unable to bite down his smile as she came to a halt in front of him, eyes finding his. 

“If you will still have me, I’d like to start wearing it again.” A choked sound left Dean, lips finding hers as he took the ring from her, pushing it back onto the finger it had once rested on all too comfortably. 

“I’ll always have you, sweetheart.”

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester x reader #Dean Winchester imagine #Supernatural smut

[l1tw1ck]

dean winchester consumes my mind LAWDDD I beg for anything with that man, surviving off of scraps looking for more top male reader x dean 🤕

- 🛸

No Longer a Mentor

Sub!Bottom Dean Winchester x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,512 ☆

After spending his young adult years with you, his mentor, more than his father, Dean found himself falling for you. He eventually made a move and forever changed the dynamic of your relationship

🕯️: well luckily for u, i just finished this draft :3

CW: Age Gap, First Time Bottoming, Blowjob, Fingering, Frottage (Sort Of), Creampie

Dean’s known you for a couple years, you're a friend of his dad’s and a fellow hunter. You became his mentor in place of his father, who often hunted on his own and left Dean in your care. You liked to stay in your state since the area was basically a supernatural magnet while his father preferred to travel the country so he chose you to finally allow Dean to stay in one place for more than a week. If you were anybody else, Dean would've been annoyed that his dad didn't take him along despite his age and experience. Instead of going to college, Dean spent those years learning to hunt with his father and mostly you. Thanks to all the time you spend with each other, his allegiance to you is almost stronger than his allegiance to his father. He hangs on your every word and treats you like a god. It's thanks to you that he finally accepted his bisexuality. But he doesn't want to tell you that.

He first started feeling differently towards you when you started to become more physical with him. You often hold onto his shoulder with your strong hand or pull him out of the way by his waist and it drives him crazy. He so desperately wants to feel your hands on other parts of his body and vice versa. Your voice makes him weak in the knees and you sound especially attractive when you've found your prey. You're much older than him but he can't get rid of his feelings for you. He tries his best to be content with just having a crush.

After you two had dinner, you decided to drink with him. The two of you laughed and talked over a few cans of beer and deepened your relationship further.

“You ever been in a relationship, [Name]?” Dean asks, slightly tipsy.

“A few. I mostly slept around in my college years and experimented a bit with other hunters but in the end I decided to marry my job instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to marry someone I could tell everything to so I tried dating within my circle but none of the hunters seemed to click with me in the ways that really matter.”

“That makes sense…then you probably haven't…” He trails off.

“I probably haven't what?”

“Had sex…lately……”

You laugh. “No, I haven't. Honestly, I think getting laid would really help me. It's been a rough couple weeks.”

“I…” Dean gulps. “I could help with that….if you don't mind…….being with a guy..”

You look at him in surprise. “You're drunk.”

“I’ve only had two cans and a half…You know I don't get drunk that fast.”

You look at him differently, no longer with the eyes of a mentor. “You’ll bottom?”

Dean nods.

You smile in amusement. “I might be a little rough, can you handle that?”

He nods again, more enthusiastically this time.

“Come here.” You motion for him to come over to your side of the table. He stands in front of you. “Kneel.” You order. Dean immediately kneels, his cock steadily growing in size. You unbuckle your belt and pull down your underwear. Dean stares at your cock in awe, body heating up as he watches you jerk it to its true size.

“Fuck. You’re big.” He breathes out.

“Too big?”

“I can handle it.” He says, licking his lips.

“Attaboy.” You run your hands through his hair. Dean blushes. “Ever done this before?”

“Never..” His eyes are trained on your length.

“Is this your first time with a man?”

“Yeah…”

Your gaze changes. Dean shivers in arousal. “How long have you wanted this?”

“A long time…I’ve been…fingering myself, in case we….” He looks away.

You grin, turned on by the thought of that. “You'll have to show me that some day.”

Dean’s face gets redder.

“Now, let me see how you suck cock.”

He's so hard right now. He opens his mouth and slowly swallows your length. He makes a dragged out moan in pleasure as he feels your thickness enter him. Pre cum leaks out of his cock as he imagines how it’ll feel in his ass. He bobs his head up and down enthusiastically, mimicking his past girlfriends by simultaneously swirling his tongue around your shaft.

“Fuck–” You moan. “That's it– good boy.”

Words can't express how happy Dean gets when you praise him.

“You're better at this than I expected, baby.” You smile at his cuteness. He can't hide how pleased he is. “You like sucking dick, don't you? I never thought you’d be a cock slut, Dean.”

He moans. He’ll happily be your cock slut. He pulls away and licks your length in a very sexy way, gaining more confidence thanks to his elevated horniess. “I love your cock, sir.”

“Of course, you’re my cock slut.” You press your hand against his cheek. “Stand up and take your clothes off, I wanna use your other hole.”

Dean’s cock throbs even more. He stands up and quickly removes his clothes, shivering under your hungry and lustful gaze. You pat your lap and he quickly sits on top of you, your shafts pressed against each other.

You grope his ass. “I don’t have any lube..” You trail off, mesmerized by his soft butt.

“I already fingered myself earlier.” He smiles.

“Good boy.” You praise him. “Then spit’ll be enough. Say ‘ah’.” You bring two fingers into Dean’s mouth. He sucks on your fingers in the sluttiest way he can before you take them out and gently push one of your saliva covered fingers inside his soft hole. You give him a moment before adding the second, then you start to finger him.

Dean lets out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard. “[Name]~” He arches his back and subconsciously thrusts his hips, his cock rubbing against yours. “Your- yours feel so- fuck~” He groans. “So much better!”

You moan as well thanks to the sudden friction. You bring him into a sloppy kiss, the temperature between the two of you steadily rising. Dean pulls away first, more desperate for air, and presses his forehead against your shoulder. “Don't stop– mm- gonna come~” He whimpers. Your fingers find his prostate, an immediate gasp of pleasure leaving Dean’s lips. He throws his head back. “There! Yes!” He moans, grinding against your cock even faster. The combination of his moans, his expression, and his cock against yours all contribute to bringing you to closer your orgasm.

Dean comes first, cum splattering over the two of you. Yours comes second thanks to the amazing look on Dean’s face.

“You're so fucking sexy, Dean, you know that?” You take your fingers out and knead his ass.

“I know.” He gives you a kiss. “I want you inside me.”

You lift Dean up and slowly lower him down on your cock. You both let out noises of pleasure as you penetrate him. He bites down on his lip, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his ass stretching to accommodate your girth. Once you bottom out, you give him time to get used to it. “Your cunt feels fucking amazing.” You groan. It's hard to hold yourself back but thankfully for you, Dean has no intention of waiting any longer. He places his hands on your shoulders and starts riding you. He quickly loses his momentum as the pleasure begins to overwhelm him. You help him out by grabbing his waist and doing the work for him, allowing Dean to fully enjoy himself.

He knew anal sex would feel good, especially because it's anal sex with you, but he never really had an idea of how good it’d feel until now. Now he's completely blissed out and only able to moan like a slut. It's especially thanks to your quick and rough speed that he's unable to think properly. You couldn't get yourself to go slower even if you tried. His ass just feels way too good.

“Your ass is perfect, Dean–” You groan. “So fucking good-” You hold him and stand up then gently place him on the table after clearing it of the empty cans. You rut into him like a monster, so horny that you feel like you could fuck him all night. You can never get enough of him.

Dean arches his back and shakes as ropes of cum spurt out of his dick. You know you should stop, or at least slow down, but you can't. “‘M sorry baby, fuck–” You moan, hanging your head low as you find your orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside, okay? Gonna fill up your tight fucking cunt with my seed–”

Dean’s conscious enough to understand you. “Ye- yes!” He grins. He's been wanting to know what it feels like to get creampied. “Co- come inside!”

Encouraged by his words, you spill your cum into his warm and welcoming hole. Your thrusts come to a stop and the two of you start to catch your breaths.

“That…was so fucking good.” Dean says, leaning back.

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #dean winchester x male reader #bottom dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x male reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #bottom male character

[fatecantstopme]

Changed

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: Enemies to lovers…the three times you and Dean/Sam work together and the final time when everything changes

Warnings: canon violence, cursing, use of pet names, body shaming, mentions of injuries and wound care. SMUT, face sitting, oral (F receiving) unprotected sex (P in V).

A/N: y'all I'm sorry, but I made Dean a total asshole for the beginning part of this. I had to for the storyline...don't hate me, it's got a GREAT ending.

You'd been hunting for close to five years when you first met Sam and Dean Winchester. The three of you happened to be working the same case in a small town in Ohio.

You and Sam hit it off instantly, but Dean was much more closed off and stand-offish. In fact, he was down-right rude most of the time. He made it very clear he didn't like you, nor did he want your help with the case.

Sam tried to get Dean to be a little more friendly, but it didn't matter what he did, Dean was not a fan of you and he showed it.

"If this wasn't an entire nest of vampires, I would be absolutely fine walking away from this," you said to Dean. "But I'm not about to let the two of you go in there alone."

"We don't need your help," Dean snapped.

"Well you've got it, so suck it up."

Sam stepped in. "Why don't we all just calm down."

"Shut up, Sam!" you and Dean yelled at the same time.

Sam threw up his hands and stepped back. He didn't wanna argue with either of you.

"I don't need help from some geek who probably can't even fight," Dean hissed.

"What's that supposed to mean? I'm a damn good fighter, Winchester," you growled.

Dean looked you up and down with disdain. It was very clear where his brain went and you did not appreciate his assumptions. Maybe you didn't really look like a traditional hunter, but you were good at it.

"No offense, (Y/N), but you don't exactly inspire confidence in your fighting abilities."

You took a deep breath and tried not to lash out. "You're an asshole, Dean Winchester, and honestly I don't care what happens to you, but your brother is a good person. You might both be amazing hunters, but I'm not letting Sam go in there without more than just you for backup."

Sam cut in before Dean could respond. "I agree with (Y/N), Dean. She's coming with us."

Dean shot his brother a dark glare, but Sam didn't back down. "You know what? Fine. If she dies, it's her fault."

"Fine with me," you snapped back at him.

Dean stomped out of the motel room, leaving you and Sam alone.

"I'm sorry about him," Sam said softly. "He's been different since Dad died."

You shook your head. "Don't apologize for him, Sam. I'm just worried his head isn't in the game and it's gonna get you killed."

Sam sighed. "I know. I'm worried about him too."

You let out a long sigh. "The only thing we can do is hope we all make it out of this alive."

Sam nodded his agreement. "Let's go before he gets even more annoyed."

You grabbed your gear and headed out the door after Sam.

As you'd predicted, clearing out the vampire nest required all three of you. By the time the last vamp fell to the ground--headless--you had more than proven yourself. Or at least, that's what you thought.

Sam, ever the gentleman, was extremely grateful for your help. "We couldn't have done it without you," he commented.

You were about to reply when Dean let out a rude scoff. You turned your attention to him with narrowed eyes. "Got something you wanna say, Winchester?"

He glared at you. "We would have been just fine without you."

"You know what? Screw you. If you wanna make terrible decisions that might get you killed, go for it, but don't drag your brother down with you."

Dean looked like he wanted to say more, but you'd stormed off in the direction of your car. You wanted to get back to the motel, shower, and go to bed. You needed to be on the road in the morning--on your way to another case.

Once you were out of earshot, Sam snapped at his brother. "Dude, what the hell has gotten into you?"

"What? You got the hots for the fat chick?"

"Don't talk about her like that, it's incredibly demeaning. Besides, she more than proved herself tonight."

"Whatever. Let's just get the hell out of here."

The next morning, you said your goodbyes to Sam, offering him your assistance in the future should he ever need it. You didn't bother to address Dean, knowing it was unlikely he would even respond.

Once you hit the highway, your mind began to focus on your next case--leaving the Winchester boys far behind.

**********

It had been close to 6 months since the hunt with Sam and Dean, and you were surprised to get a call from Sam requesting your assistance on another case.

"We think it's demonic omens," Sam explained.

You sighed. "How bad we talking?"

"We're not sure, but we could really use your help."

"Did you clear it with your brother?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line that told you everything you needed to know.

"Sam..."

"Look, I didn't say anything to him, but even he admitted we needed to call for help."

You sighed again, running your fingers through your hair. "Fine, but only because you asked."

"Thank you, (Y/N). I really appreciate it."

You hung up the phone and packed your bag to head to the middle of nowhere Oklahoma.

You didn't often meet people you didn't get along with, but Dean Winchester was certainly one of those people. You hated him and he quite obviously hated you. You weren't sure what it was about you he disliked so much, but you didn't appreciate the way he treated you.

There was something in the way he looked at you--disdain or disgust, you weren't sure, but you'd seen it in other men's eyes. You knew what it was...it was a judgment you'd seen a thousand times before. You'd struggled with your weight your whole life and some men (and women too) had the tendency to judge you based on your physical appearance.

It didn't help that you were a woman in a very male-dominated job. Male hunters had the tendency to judge you with a single look. It didn't matter that you were smart and capable--that you were a great hunter in your own right. All they saw was the outside and that was all they needed to decide what you could do--what you were capable of.

Unfortunately, Dean Winchester was apparently one of those hunters. Sam clearly saw there was more to you than appearances and you appreciated being given the benefit of the doubt. Sam had given you the chance to prove yourself and you'd done so, but that didn't seem to change Dean's perception of you.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt more because of who he was. Dean Winchester was a well-known figure in the hunting community, as were his father and brother. You knew he was a truly amazing hunter and part of you craved his approval. There was also something to be said about the way he looked...the man was gorgeous in an almost offensive way. You couldn't stop yourself from noticing, but you were painfully aware he did not find you attractive. As stupid as it might sound, his disdain hurt you deeply.

You sighed as you stared out the windshield at the road ahead of you. You didn't want to focus on the negative, especially when you were on your way to face what appeared to be several demons. You needed to be on your A-game...you'd be damned if you let yourself get distracted by a mere man.

Several hours later, you pulled into the parking lot of the motel the Winchesters were staying at. You went up to the motel room door and knocked, sending up a silent prayer that Sam would be the one to answer the door.

Someone must have been looking down on you favorably, because moments later, the door swung open to reveal Sam Winchester. "Thanks for coming, (Y/N)."

You smiled at him. "Of course. You call, I come."

Sam gestured for you to come in. "Dean's out getting food."

"Oh." You didn't know what else to say--part of you wished he was here so you could just get it over with, but another part of you was glad to prolong the inevitable for a little while.

"He'll be back soon," Sam said lamely.

"Okay. Should I get a room then?"

Sam shook his head. "You can have my bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"That's absurd, you're significantly taller than me. I'll take the couch or get my own room."

"There are no more rooms," Sam said with a shrug. "So take the bed, please. I'll feel like an asshole if you sleep on the couch."

You chuckled lightly and tossed your bag onto the bed nearest the door. "Alright, fine. I wouldn't want to offend your gentlemanly sensibilities," you teased.

He smiled, but before he could respond, the door swung open and the elder Winchester walked through carrying a bag of diner food.

You swallowed thickly, hoping he wouldn't have anything nasty to say right away.

Unfortunately, it seemed your luck had run out. "What's she doing here?" Dean asked in annoyance.

"She's here to help," Sam answered.

Dean threw the bag of food on the table. "I'm sorry--when I told you to call for backup, this is who you called?"

"She was available and she's more than capable," Sam argued.

"I don't give a damn. You should have called someone else. She'll get herself killed--or one of us."

"She has a name," you snapped. "And she's right here."

Dean turned his attention to you and you could see the fiery anger in his gaze. You didn't understand what about you made him so angry, but he certainly didn't give you a chance to ask.

"Have you ever even faced a demon, (Y/N)?" The way he emphasized your name was dripping with condescension.

"Actually, I have. More than once."

A flash of surprise crossed his face, but was gone quickly. "How many people died when you did?"

"One," you answered, trying to keep your voice level. "The innocent woman some demon scum was wearing."

"Were you alone?"

"Every time."

If you'd expected Dean to be impressed, you'd have been sorely mistaken. "This will be a hundred times worse. Half this town is demon-infested and countless people will die. Can you handle that?"

"It's the job," you answered as calmly as you could.

Dean regarded you quietly for a moment, before seeming to accept your answer. "Don't get us killed." He turned away from you and sat down at the table to eat his dinner, ignoring you once more.

You glanced over at Sam who looked extremely uncomfortable, but he didn't comment on anything that had been said. Instead he asked his brother if he'd gotten enough food to share with you too.

Before you were able to say you'd already eaten dinner, Dean made an offhand comment that struck a nerve.

"I don't think we have enough food for her even if you and I don't eat."

Sam gasped. "Dean!"

You froze for a moment, tears pressing against your eyes, but you didn't dare shed them. You pushed your emotions down and took a deep breath. "I actually already ate."

"Thank god," Dean mumbled.

"That's it!" you snapped. "What the hell is your problem with me, Winchester?"

He looked up at you with an annoyed glare. "I don't like you and I don't trust you."

"I don't care for you either, but that doesn't mean you have to treat me like shit. I haven't insulted you a single time, but you've managed to insult me several times from the moment we met. Either shut the hell up or I'll be forced to fight fire with fire."

He raised a single eyebrow at you, but he didn't say a single word. You were surprised at his silence, but you were done with the conversation. "I'm going to shower."

As soon as the bathroom door closed, Sam threw a wrapper at Dean. "What the hell, man?"

Dean shrugged. "What? I don't like her."

"What the hell did she ever do to you?"

"She didn't have to do anything. I just don't like her."

"Fine, but don't treat her like that," Sam requested. "She doesn't deserve your animosity...and you're better than this."

Dean didn't comment one way or the other, his silence signaling the end of the conversation.

"That was incredibly stupid of you!" Dean yelled.

"Oh fuck off, Winchester!" you yelled back. "You'd be dead if I hadn't!"

"I didn't ask you to save me!"

The argument was a waste of breath, but Dean didn't want to let it go and neither did you. You'd saved Dean's life during a fight with a demon and it put your own life at great risk.

"A simple 'thank you' would suffice," you growled.

"You could have gotten Sammy killed, you idiot! He had to save your stupid ass because you wanted to play the hero!"

"Dean, that's not--" Sam began.

"Why can't you just be thankful you're not dead?!" you snapped. "And neither is your brother, for that matter!"

Dean's eyes were filled with a rage so dark it frightened you. "I don't understand how you've managed to survive this long on your own, but I doubt it'll last much longer if you keep pulling stupid stunts like that."

You'd managed to regain control of your temper, so you bit your lip to keep from yelling at him again. "You know what? I'm done. Don't ask for my help again."

"(Y/N) wait--" Sam called.

"No, Sam. I'm done. I can't put up with his attitude and you know what? I don't have to. Please don't call me again unless you're hunting alone."

You walked away from both men, fully expecting to never see either one of them again.

**********

Fate, of course, had other plans. One year later, almost to the day, you saved Sam Winchester's life...

You'd been working a case in a small town in Texas and you'd heard rumblings of a missing FBI agent who had been doing research in the town a couple days before you'd arrived.

You knew it was unlikely a real FBI agent had been conducting an investigation here...the events that had led you here clearly indicated the presence of a witch--a damn powerful one at that. As such, it was clear to you a hunter pretending to be FBI had been on the case before you.

You quickly put the pieces together and realized the witch you were hunting had likely kidnapped the other hunter and was doing god only knows what to him.

The more people you talked to, the more certain you were that the missing hunter/FBI agent was none other than Sam Winchester. All of the descriptions people gave you sounded exactly like him.

You tried calling his cell phone several times, but he didn't answer. You didn't want to place the next call, but you didn't see another option. You pressed his name in the phone and put it to your ear.

"Why are you calling me?" Dean's voice asked from the other end of the line.

"Do you know where your brother is?"

"I haven't spoken to him in a while."

"So that's a no?"

You heard him swear under his breath. "Why does it matter, (Y/N)?" he snapped.

"I'm hunting a witch that I think your brother was also hunting. He's missing."

"What do you mean, missing?"

"I mean no one in town has seen him in two days."

Dean was silent for a moment. "Where are you?"

"Lockhart, Texas."

"I'll be there by tomorrow morning."

He hung up without saying anything else, leaving you alone with your worry.

You knew you didn't have time to wait for Dean's arrival. You needed to find Sam...witches were no joke. You'd never forgive yourself if he died because you waited.

You started diving into your research, trying to identify the witch. This is what you were good at, but the added pressure of finding Sam clouded your brain.

You took a deep breath and tried to clear your head. You needed to focus--Sam needed you.

You turned your attention back to your work and noticed you had more clarity. Before you knew it, four hours had passed. You felt like you were no closer to finding this witch than you had been that morning.

You were about ready to give up for a while when you noticed something you'd missed before. You started flipping through the pages you had on the table in front of you and gasped softly. "Her," you mumbled, underlining the name on the page.

You quickly looked up the woman's address and within minutes, you were rushing out the door, on your way to--hopefully--save your friend.

When you pulled up in front of the house, every instinct you had told you you were in the right place. You couldn't explain why, but you just knew this was it.

You double checked your weapons before getting out of the car and making your way around the back of the house as quickly and quietly as possible.

You manage to get into the house without notifying the occupant and began creeping your way through the house, checking each room for signs of Sam or the witch.

You knew there was no basement in the house--Texas homes don't have basements--so there were a limited number of places Sam could be.

You'd cleared the first floor and slowly made your way up to the second floor. As you neared the first room, you heard two voices talking from farther down the hallway.

You immediately made your way towards the voices, moving slowly so as to not make any sound. As you got closer, you heard a female voice followed by a male voice you instantly recognized--Sam.

You continued on quietly until you reached the door. You listened closely, trying to make out what was being said.

"All you have to do," the female voice said, "is tell me who else you're working with."

"I told you," Sam's voice said angrily, "I'm working alone."

"Then why is there a woman looking for you?"

"A woman?" Sam's voice was laced with confusion.

"She's been asking around town about you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Sam cried out in pain and you nearly barged through the door on instinct. You controlled yourself, continuing to remain motionless while listening.

"Samuel...stop lying to me. Who is the woman?"

"I don't know," he insisted before crying out in pain again.

After a few moments, Sam spoke again, slightly breathless. "Look, if you're gonna kill me, just do it. I have nothing more to say to you."

The witch laughed darkly. "Perhaps you're right. You're of no use to me anymore."

Sam yelled in pain and you knew it was time to act. You swung the door open and entered the room with your gun pointed ahead of you. Your eyes quickly scanned the room, landing on Sam, who was sitting in the center of the room, arms tied to a chair. Your gaze next landed on the witch who was in the middle of chanting some sort of spell.

It took you less than a second to decide what to do, and that second was all you needed. You pulled the trigger and watched the bullet strike the witch's chest. She looked shocked, eyes locked on your face as she fell to her knees. Her gaze never left you as she took her final breath, now nothing but an empty vessel on the floor.

You ran over to Sam, taking in his injuries quickly. Seeing nothing of immediate concern you started to cut his bindings.

"(Y/N)?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Hunting a witch, obviously."

He chuckled lightly. "But how did you find me?"

"A little bit of skill and a whole lot of luck."

"Somehow I doubt that," he said softly.

Your eyes met his as you cut the final rope. You offered him a small smile, but remained silent.

"Seriously, (Y/N). Thank you."

You shrugged. "You would have done the same for me."

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again after last time," he admitted.

"Honestly, I didn't either," you whispered. "But when I realized you were here, I knew I couldn't leave you. I, uh--I called Dean."

Sam's eyes widened in shock. "You did what?!"

"I was worried about you and you weren't answering your phone, so I called him. I hoped he'd know where you were."

Sam sighed. "We actually haven't been hunting together for a while."

You nodded. "He mentioned that...but he's--um, well he's on his way."

"Great," he mumbled. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"I'm sorry," you said softly. "I didn't know."

"It's fine, (Y/N). You didn't know."

Unsurprisingly, Sam was staying at the same motel as you, so you drove him back. Once you arrived, you helped him out of his shirt and began to clean his wounds. Several of them were deep enough to require stitches, but there didn't appear to be anything life threatening.

"You're very lucky," you muttered.

Sam grabbed your hand, stopping you in the middle of a stitch. "It wasn't luck, (Y/N/N). You saved my life."

You sighed quietly and continued sewing his skin back together.

"I'm serious. I owe you my life."

"You don't owe me anything."

"I do. I guess both of us do now."

"What?"

"You saved Dean's life last year. He might have behaved like an ass, but he owes you his life as much as I owe you mine."

You finished the stitch and moved on to the next cut. "We're hunters, Sam. It's what we do."

"Doesn't mean I'm not grateful."

You offered him a soft smile. "Well then, you're welcome."

After about 30 minutes of constant wound care, you'd managed to clean and stitch up all his cuts. He'd been awake for almost 2 days at this point and just wanted a shower and some sleep.

He agreed to take a shower while you ran out and got some food that you practically forced him to eat before he collapsed on the bed, sound asleep within seconds.

You ate your dinner quietly, watching the large man sleep. You were incredibly glad you'd managed to save him--it would have haunted you forever if you'd been too late.

Eventually, you crawled into the other bed and passed out, forgetting for a moment that Dean Winchester was still on his way to Lockhart in search of his brother.

Early the next morning, you were awoken by loud, insistent knocking on the motel door. You dragged yourself out of bed, muttering under your breath as you made your way over to the door.

"Calm down, I'm coming," you hissed quietly. You looked through the peep hole and saw a slightly disheveled Dean Winchester standing on the other side.

You opened the door and he practically ran into the room, eyes searching the space for his brother. His gaze finally landed on Sam's sleeping form and his whole body instantly relaxed. Sam was peacefully still--exhaustion keeping him asleep.

You walked over to Dean and tentatively touched his arm to jostle him out of his trance. "He's alright," you murmured.

Dean shook his head to clear it and turned to you. "What?"

"Sam's okay," you repeated. "Just some cuts and bruises, but he'll live."

"What happened?"

You explained what had happened and how you'd identified the witch and found Sam.

"You saved his life," Dean whispered.

"He would have done the same for me."

"Still...you didn't have to, but you did it anyway. Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me."

"Yeah," Dean mumbled. "I do."

You were both silent for a moment before Dean continued talking.

"Sam and I--well, we haven't been talking lately. I--I would have been devastated if something happened to him before I could apologize. I was mad and stupid and I said things I didn't mean...but he's still my brother. I can't lose him."

For the first time since you met him, you saw something more to Dean Winchester--something beneath the facade. It was obvious he truly loved his brother and in this moment he was showing a rare piece of humanity that shocked you. Maybe beneath the gruff, rude exterior, there was something genuinely good.

"Why don't you get some sleep," you said softly. "I'm sure you're tired from your drive and Sam will want to see you in the morning."

Dean turned his gaze back to you. "Thanks...I--uh, I am kinda tired." His face told you he wanted to say more, but he couldn't find the words.

Your expression softened. "I'll take the couch. Don't worry about it."

He shook his head immediately. "No, go back to sleep. I'll take the couch."

You decided not to argue, instead crawling into bed and falling asleep quickly. Something about Dean's presence made you feel safe.

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of voices in the room. As you oriented yourself, you realized it was Sam and Dean talking quietly across the room. You remained quiet and still, ears listening to the discussion.

It was clear they'd been talking for a while and the conversation had turned to the current situation.

"I can't believe she saved you," Dean whispered.

"Neither can I, to be honest. I don't even know how she found me. She said it was mostly luck."

"A year ago, I would have agreed with that," Dean stated. "But now? She's saved both of our lives--I have to admit she's a damn good hunter."

A small smile played on your lips and you were glad they couldn't see your face from their angle.

"That's a lot coming from you," Sam said in surprise. "What changed?"

"Honestly? Me," Dean answered. "A lot has happened in the last 6 months Sammy. I've taken the time away to really get my shit together. I was just so damn empty and I was taking it out on everyone, including you. But I've said some terrible things to (Y/N) and I don't know how to apologize. Hell, I don't even know if she'd want me to apologize. I treated her terribly and I wouldn't be surprised if she hated me."

"I'm pretty sure she does," Sam said softly. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't apologize or you can't fix it. You owe her your life as much as I do...that should mean something."

"I know," Dean admitted. "I've been such an asshole to her. I don't even think I deserve her forgiveness."

"It's worth a shot, Dean."

You couldn't see Dean's face, but you could hear the emotion in his voice. It made you think he truly meant what he was saying. Before this moment, you wouldn't have even considered listening to a word this man had to say to you...but now you felt like you owed it to him--or maybe yourself--to hear him out, should he choose to apologize.

You'd gotten out of bed not long after overhearing Sam and Dean's conversation. After a nice shower, you were getting your things together to head back out onto the road--onto your next hunt.

"I'm gonna grab some breakfast," Sam called out. "You guys want me to bring you something?"

"Coffee and a breakfast sandwich, please," you said in response.

"Coffee and an absurd amount of bacon," Dean added.

Sam groaned. "You are so gonna have a heart attack."

"I'm not gonna live long enough for that, Sammy, so don't worry about me. Bacon is worth it."

You chuckled softly and Dean shot you a look. When he noticed the soft smirk on your face, he smiled in return. "I think (Y/N) agrees."

Sam sighed. "Whatever--I'll be back in a while."

You waved at Sam's back before returning your attention to your duffle. You threw your last couple items into it before zipping it up.

"So..." Dean said awkwardly from behind you.

You sighed heavily before turning to face him. "Yes?"

"I...I, um--fuck," he muttered. "I owe you an apology."

You folded your arms across your chest. "Go on."

You'd never seen him look so uncomfortable and a part of you was happy about it. You felt bad for feeling that way, but after everything Dean had said and done to you since you'd met, he more than deserved it.

"I've been a major asshole."

You nodded your agreement.

He had the grace to look embarrassed. "I've said some truly horrible things to you and uh--about you. Things I never should have thought, let alone said aloud."

He fell silent and waited for a moment as if he was hoping you would disagree.

"Is that all?"

He exhaled slowly. "Look, you saved my life and I treated you like shit--then you go and save my brother's life even after everything I've done."

"I didn't do it for you."

"No--no, I know. I just...I suck at apologies."

You chuckled lightly. "A bit, yeah."

"What I'm trying to say is--I was wrong. I was wrong about everything. I was wrong to treat you the way I did and I'm so fucking sorry, (Y/N). I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry I was such an asshole. I don't have a good excuse--I was broken and hurting and I chose to take it out on everyone around me. I'm not trying to excuse what I did--I just want you to know that I'm not usually like that. I've spent the last year trying to find myself again and I'm closer than I've ever been. But, umm that's not the point--it's not about me. I--fuck--I'm just so goddamn sorry, (Y/N)."

You offered him a small smile. "I genuinely appreciate your apology, Winchester. Especially because I can see how difficult it was for you to do it."

He looked relieved. "I'm not good at this sort of thing."

"It's okay. You got your point across."

"Oh, one more thing."

"Hmm?"

"You're a damn good hunter."

You smiled genuinely for the first time and Dean couldn't help but notice how it lit up your whole face. Your smile was contagious--and he found himself returning the expression.

Before you could thank him, Sam came back with breakfast.

"Am I interrupting?" Sam asked.

"No, we're good," Dean answered.

Sam looked at you and you nodded. He looked relieved, but he didn't comment on the situation.

Dean's stomach grumbled and he reached for the bag of takeout. "Let's eat."

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Sam asked.

You shook your head. "I appreciate the offer, but I think you guys need some time alone. Rekindle your relationship, mend fences, etc."

Sam nodded. "Alright, but please call us if you need anything--and I mean anything."

He wrapped you in a hug, which you happily returned. "You know I will."

He stepped back and headed out to the car, leaving you and Dean alone.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye for now," Dean said.

You turned to him with a smile. "I guess it is."

You stuck your hand out and Dean shook it tentatively.

"We're not at the hugging stage yet, Winchester," you said lightly.

He chuckled softly. "I've gotta earn that?"

"Oh yeah," you teased.

Dean grinned, liking the teasing tone in your voice. "I'll work on it. Stay safe, (Y/N)...call us if you need anything."

You nodded. "Same to you. Keep Sammy safe, okay?"

"I always will."

**********

You dragged yourself across the floor of the old, dirty warehouse, pain radiating through most of your body. You heard the footsteps of the creature you'd been hunting as it crossed the room towards you. You could see your cellphone lying several yards away, your gun not far from it. You knew this was it--you were gonna die.

You were breathing heavily, the pain almost unbearable. You didn't want to die, but you knew you wouldn't be able to reach your gun in time.

The creature took another step towards you and growled lowly. You looked up at it and resigned yourself to death.

"Hey, ugly!" a man's voice yelled from behind the creature.

The creature turned in the direction of the voice and a gunshot rang out. The creature cried out in pain and dropped to the ground dead about a foot from you.

You released the breath you'd been holding, the sharp exhale making your ribs ache. You heard footsteps rushing towards you and what you saw made you smile a little.

"(Y/N)!" Sam yelled as he dropped to the ground beside you. "You okay?"

Dean was right behind him, coming to a stop on the other side of your body. You could see the concern in both of their faces as their eyes scanned your body, looking for serious injuries.

"Hey guys," you said softly. "I'm alright."

"Can you stand?" Sam asked.

You nodded and the boys started to help you up. You groaned in pain, exhaling slowly to try and ease it.

"Easy," Dean said softly. "I've got you."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't comment. He just continued to help you until you were standing up fully. Dean's arm slipped around your waist and pulled you against his side, holding you upright.

"Lean on me, okay? I've got you." He turned to his brother. "You handle the monster, I'll get (Y/N) to the car."

Dean moved slowly, allowing you to lean into him as you limped beside him. "You alright, (Y/N)?" he asked softly.

"That damn thing beat the hell outta me...definitely some bruised ribs, pretty sure I sprained my ankle, and I've got some pretty deep gashes on my back and hip. Otherwise though, I'm peachy."

Dean chuckled softly. "Tough as nails, this one."

"Minus the whole 'almost died' thing."

"Hey, don't worry about that. Happens to the best of us."

"I've noticed," you said lightly.

He laughed. "Rude."

"Seriously, though, thanks for saving my ass."

"My pleasure, (Y/N). Besides, I owed you."

You whimpered slightly when Dean shifted to help you as you approached the stairway.

"Shit, (Y/N), sorry. You okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied through gritted teeth.

"Liar," he mumbled. "Hold still."

You did as he asked, watching in confusion as he took a step away from you, sliding his left arm under your legs and scooping you up into his arms.

You gasped in pain and surprise. "What are you doing?!"

"Sorry if that hurt you, but this will be a hell of a lot easier--and less painful for you."

"You are not carrying me down the stairs, Winchester," you hissed.

"You gonna stop me?" he asked harshly. When you were silent, he smirked smugly. "Didn't think so."

You held on tightly as Dean carried you down the stairs with shocking ease. You knew you weren't light and it surprised you he was able to carry you without issue.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, you stirred against him. "You can put me down now."

"Not happening. I'll put you down when we get to the car."

You stared at him in shock. The man in front of you was so different from the man you'd met almost three years prior. Hell, he was even different from the man who'd apologized to you 8 months ago.

"You've changed," you whispered.

He glanced at your face, cheeks tinged pink. "For the better, I hope."

You smiled warmly. "Definitely."

Dean had driven you back to the motel, leaving Sam to bring your car back. Instead of taking you to your room, Dean brought you to his and Sam's to get you cleaned up and to check your wounds.

"Alright let me see your back," Dean said gently.

You shifted to lift the back of your shirt up, allowing Dean to see the claw marks on your lower back.

"Shit, those are deep," he muttered. "You're gonna need stitches."

"Great."

"I've got everything we need." He got up and grabbed his kit, pulling out the supplies he needed to stitch you up. "So I need unhindered access to your back."

You looked up at him, unsure of what he was saying.

He bit his lip and shifted his weight. "I, uh...I need you to take your shirt off."

Your eyes widened. "Absolutely not."

"I'm not trying to make it weird, but I need both hands to stitch, so I can't hold your shirt up too."

There was zero chance of you taking off your shirt in front of Dean fucking Winchester. Absolutely not. No way in hell. He looked like that and you...well you didn't like anyone to see you without a shirt off.

"How 'bout I lay down on my stomach and pull my shirt up so it's out of the way?"

He sighed. "Fine, it's a reasonable compromise."

You nodded gratefully and laid down on your stomach, but the moment you did, you cried out in pain and rolled onto your side.

Dean was beside you in an instant. "What's wrong?"

"Ribs," you muttered.

"Shit..." he paused for a moment. "(Y/N) please let me help you."

You looked up at him, tears filling your eyes--a mixture of pain and embarrassment.

"Hey," he said softly. "You're okay. I know it's not fun, but I need to get you stitched up before the cuts get infected."

You bit your lip and nodded. "Will you turn around until I'm ready?"

Dean offered you a soft smile. "Of course." He turned around and waited for you to tell him you were ready.

You moved slowly, lifting your shirt off over your head, inhaling sharply at the painful movements. A whimper left your lips, the pain forcing the sound out.

It took all of Dean's self-control to not turn around when he heard your soft whimper, but he'd promised to wait.

You balled your shirt up in front of you, using it to hide your stomach and as much of your chest as you could. "Okay," you whispered.

Dean turned around slowly, keeping his gaze on your face. He was very tempted to look down, but he knew it would be unwelcome. He settled onto the bed behind you and began to clean your wounds.

You hissed at the contact, wincing away from him.

"Sorry, sweetheart."

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head--shock settling into your bones at the sound of the pet name.

You tried to remain still as he continued cleaning, despite the pain that was radiating through your body.

"Alright, they're clean," Dean said gently. "Time for the stitches."

You tensed up as he gently placed his calloused hand against your skin.

"Just relax, okay? I've got you."

You did your best to relax and Dean started to stitch your skin back together. About halfway through, Sam arrived back at the motel.

"Yikes," Sam said when he saw the deep gashes on your back. "Those look gnarly."

"Yeah, it's not great," you muttered.

"Sorry, (Y/N/N)," Sam commented. "I brought your car back though." He held up the keys with an awkward smile.

"Thanks, Sam."

"Sammy, why don't you go round us up some food?" Dean requested.

Sam raised his eyebrows as he looked between you and Dean. "Alright, sure. What do you want?"

"Burgers and pie," Dean said immediately.

"(Y/N)?"

"Yeah, sounds good," you answered.

"Alright, I'll be back." Sam grabbed the Impala keys off the table and headed back out.

"You still with me, sweetheart?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, voice laced with pain and discomfort.

"I'll be done soon enough," Dean said gently. "Then onto the ones on your hip."

"Fuck," you muttered. You'd almost forgotten about the deep cuts on your hip, but the pain started back up at the mention of them.

"I'm going as quickly as I can without giving you some seriously hideous scars," Dean whispered.

You smiled a little at the sweetness of his words. "Thanks," you murmured.

Dean found himself fighting the urge to place a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder. He wanted to provide you comfort, but instead he was actively causing you pain--and he hated it.

After several more minutes of silence, Dean finished his last stitch. "All done."

You sighed gratefully. "Thank God."

"Actually, it's just Dean," he quipped lightly.

You laughed warmly, but the action hurt your ribs, causing a soft groan of pain.

"While I liked hearing you laugh, I'd rather not cause you more pain than I have to."

"Then don't make me laugh, Winchester," you teased.

He grinned. "I'm just naturally hilarious."

You chuckled again, trying to suppress the sound to prevent any pain.

"Alright, lose the pants."

"Excuse me?"

"I've gotta get to your hip somehow, sweetheart," he stated.

You groaned softly. The last thing you wanted to do was be essentially naked in front of him. "Fine, but I'm putting my shirt back on."

"Absolutely not. That thing is dirty and ruined. You're not putting it anywhere near those cuts." He started rummaging through his bag and he pulled out a flannel shirt. "Here, put this on."

You looked at him in disbelief. "I don't think I'm going to fit into your shirt."

He looked confused. "Of course you will. Just put it on."

You took the shirt from him, still convinced there was no way it would fit you. He was a large man, but you had a very full chest and soft stomach...you were used to not fitting into a man's clothing.

"Turn around," you whispered.

Dean sighed softly, but he turned around to give you the privacy you'd requested.

You pulled yourself up with a groan, tossing your dirty shirt onto the floor. You slowly pulled the flannel shirt on over your arms and nearly gasped in surprise when you realized that not only did the shirt fit you, but it was a little big on you. You buttoned the shirt quickly, feeling more than a little pleased at the way it fit. Plus, you couldn't help but notice the shirt smelled like Dean--like soap, leather, and a little bit of whiskey.

"Can I turn around now?"

"Oh...yeah."

He turned around and felt a tightening in his chest as he took in the image of you in his shirt. He didn't know he'd feel this way when he'd given you the shirt to wear, but damn--he couldn't help but notice how sexy you looked in his clothing.

"Told you it would fit," he said with a smirk. "Even looks big on you."

You blushed. "So you were right one time."

He laughed. "I promise it won't be the last."

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile remained on your lips.

"Now the pants."

"I am not taking off my pants, Winchester."

"How am I supposed to clean your wounds through your pants?"

You groaned. "God, this is embarrassing," you muttered.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart. I'm just trying to help."

You groaned a second time. "Fine," you grumbled.

Dean bit his lip and looked away. He needed you to stop making those damn sounds or he was going to lose his mind.

You looked up at him warily, making sure his gaze remained averted from you. You removed your pants as quickly as you could without causing yourself more pain. A few moments later, you were standing there in nothing but your underwear and Dean's shirt. Thankfully, the shirt was long enough that it covered you both in the front and back.

"You good?" he asked softly.

"Yeah...where--where do you want me?"

Dean groaned softly, desperately trying to keep his thoughts to himself. He didn't think you'd appreciate hearing where he really wanted you.

He kept his eyes trained on your face. "Lay down on your side so I can see your hip."

You swallowed thickly, feeling the change in the air of the room. You slowly lowered yourself onto the bed, shifting to lay on your side.

Dean grabbed a pillow. "Lift your head for me." You did as he asked and he slipped the pillow under your head to make it more comfortable for you.

He climbed onto the bed behind you and exhaled slowly, trying to keep his shit together. You looked gorgeous in his shirt, round ass barely peeking out from beneath it. He felt the strong urge to smack it, but he had a feeling you'd knock him out if he did.

"Damn," he whispered as he looked at the deep claw marks on your hip. "I think these are worse."

"Yeah, they don't feel great," you muttered softly.

"I'll try to be gentle."

Dean began to clean the wounds, sadness lacing its icy tendrils around his heart every time he heard you make a pained sound.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N/N)," he whispered.

"It's fine," you ground out. "Wait, did you just call me (Y/N/N)?"

He winced slightly. "I--uh--I did. Is that okay?"

You were quiet for a moment as you contemplated it. "Yeah...yeah it's okay."

He exhaled gratefully. He hadn't meant to call you a nickname--it had just kinda slipped out. He was glad it didn't upset you.

Dean had just started the stitches when Sam came back with food.

"Woah," Sam said as he caught a glimpse of the two of you on the bed--and you without pants.

"I'm stitching the wounds on her hip, you idiot," Dean said sharply.

"Oh--wait, why is she wearing your shirt?"

"Because hers was dirty, Samuel. Any more questions?"

Sam threw his hands up in defeat. "My bad--my bad."

"You better have brought me pie," Dean grumbled.

"I didn't forget the pie," Sam said in annoyance.

Your stomach suddenly grumbled loudly. "Apparently I'm starving," you said lightly.

"As soon as I'm done with the stitches, we can eat."

Sam held a container of fries out to you. "Want some?"

"Oh thank God," you muttered as you took the container from him.

"Quit moving," Dean admonished.

"Sorry," you said sheepishly. "Fry?"

He glanced at your extended hand and simply opened his mouth. You looked at him in confusion and he nodded to his hands. "I can't exactly grab it."

"Oh, right." You took a fry out of the container and held it out to him. He leaned forward and took the fry from your hand, a soft moan of enjoyment escaping his lips.

You felt a warmth spread through your lower body and your breathing became a little more labored. You swallowed thickly and averted your gaze, unable to look at him without blushing.

You continued eating your fries quietly as Dean finished stitching the cuts.

"All....done," Dean said softly as he finished the final stitch.

"Thank you," you said softly. You started to try and sit up and Dean grabbed you to help. "You're not gonna let me put my pants on, are you?"

Dean grinned ear to ear. "I mean, I do like you like this, but I'll let you put on pants--if you insist."

Your eyes widened slightly and you blushed deeply.

"But not your pants, of course," Dean said with a smirk. He dug into his bag again, producing a pair of well-worn sweats. "Here you go, sweetheart."

"Just because your shirt fits, doesn't mean your pants will."

He looked you up and down slowly. "Oh they'll fit, they'll just be a little long."

Sam looked back and forth between the two of you for a few moments. "Am I missing something here?"

"Nope," you both answered.

"Okaaaay..."

You leaned down to start pulling the sweatpants on and as you tugged them up your thighs, you realized Dean was once again correct. The damn things were gonna be loose.

You stood up slowly and pulled them up the rest of the way, tugging on the string to tighten them enough so they wouldn't sag. You looked down at your feet and chuckled at the fabric pooling around your feet.

"Need some help?" Dean asked lightly.

"Could you maybe roll up the bottoms? I don't wanna fall on my face."

He grinned. "It would be my pleasure."

He dropped to his knees in front of you, earning a gasp of surprise from you. He slowly rolled up one pant leg, looked up at you with a little smirk, then rolled up the second pant leg. He looked back up at you with the same expression on his face. "Better?"

You didn't trust your voice, so you simply nodded.

He pulled himself up, suddenly towering over you again. Your knees felt weak--and it had nothing to do with your injuries.

"Uhhh...dinner is getting cold..." Sam muttered awkwardly.

"Mhmm," Dean hummed, gaze still fixed on your face.

"We should probably eat," you whispered.

Dean's tongue slipped out of his mouth, wetting his lips. His gaze was almost hungry as he regarded you, a soft smirk gracing his handsome face. "I am quite hungry," he murmured. "Very, very hungry."

You felt your pulse quicken and your lips parted slightly. The way he was looking at you made you think he wasn't referring to a hunger for burgers or pie...but you knew that couldn't be possible. Dean Winchester didn't want you--not like that.

You took control of the situation, stepping around Dean to limp towards the table. Dean quickly slipped an arm around your waist to help you.

"I'm alright, Dean."

"I'm not letting you fall and worsen your injuries."

You smiled up at him as he guided you to a chair and gently lowered you into it. He sat down in the chair beside yours and grabbed a burger for each of you out of the bag.

Sam had already eaten his dinner, so he was just watching the interactions between you and Dean. It was obvious he was confused, and to be honest, so were you.

Last time you'd talked to Dean, he'd apologized for being a massive asshole, but this transition was completely unexpected. You didn't know how to address it, or frankly, how to feel about it.

Instead, you decided to ask a question that had been tickling the back of your mind. "So...how did you guys find me?"

"Oh, that was all Dean," Sam admitted.

"Well you're the one who identified this case," Dean said with a shrug.

"Yeah, but you figured out where the monster was taking its victims--and then we saw your car."

"When we got inside the warehouse, I heard you yell in pain and I just--well, I just took off," Dean said.

You looked at both of them with a warm expression. "Well, thanks for saving me."

"You already thanked me," Dean said softly. "Besides, we both owed you our lives."

"He's not wrong," Sam added.

"Well, I'm thankful either way."

"You're welcome, (Y/N/N)," Dean said with a warm smile.

Sam gave his brother a weird look before looking back at you. "You're welcome."

The three of you continued to eat your dinner in relative silence, Sam or Dean occasionally chatting with each other while you looked on.

You watched Dean quietly, really taking him in for the first time. He was so incredibly beautiful--almost painfully so. His eyes were so kind, so much kinder than they'd been when you'd met. More importantly, he seemed lighter--more whole, than before.

You felt a stirring in your chest as you gazed at him, hating yourself for it. You shouldn't have any feelings for him--you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself in that position and you certainly didn't want to be another notch on Dean Winchester's bedpost.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Dean asked softly, shaking you from your thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"You were staring at the side of my head," he said lightly.

"Oh, sorry. I completely zoned out."

"Don't worry about it. You're allowed."

The smile you gave him quickly turned into a yawn. "I suddenly got really tired. I think I'll go back to my room to sleep."

Dean practically jumped out of his chair. "I'll take you."

You gave him an odd look. "I think I can manage to limp my way three doors down."

"Well, I'd feel better if I went with you."

Your expression softened. "Alright, alright. Lemme get my shoes on."

Dean grabbed your boots and sat them in front of you, but when you bent down to get them on, you gasped as pain radiated from your bruised ribs.

"Here, let me help," Dean said gently.

You gladly accepted his help, allowing him to get your boots on both feet. He helped you out of your chair and Sam stood up as well. He hugged you gently, which you returned in kind.

"I'm glad you're okay," Sam whispered into your hair.

"Thanks, Sammy," you murmured.

He stepped back and gave his brother a look you couldn't decipher. "I'm gonna shower and then hit the hay."

"Sounds good. I'll be back in a bit," Dean said before taking your hand and helping you towards the door.

Once you were outside, Dean was instantly more protective of you. Either he was worried about you falling on the hard cement or something attacking you. Whichever one it was, his protectiveness warmed your heart.

"Want me to carry you again?" Dean teased lightly.

You smacked his arm affectionately. "I can walk on my own, Winchester. Slowly..."

He grinned. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."

"So about that...since when do you call me sweetheart?"

"Since today, I guess," Dean muttered.

"A pet name and a nickname in the same day...interesting."

"Interesting good or interesting bad?"

You looked up at him. "I haven't decided yet."

"Fair enough."

"This is it," you said as you stopped in front of your motel room. "Thanks for walking me over."

Dean gave you an odd look. "I'm not leaving you at the door, (Y/N)."

You chuckled. "I didn't wanna assume."

You unlocked the door and Dean helped you in. "Lemme check the room, okay?"

You watched Dean walk around the room, checking the closet and the bathroom for anything that might want to hurt you. Finding nothing, he came back into the room, much more relaxed than before.

"So no monsters in the closet?" you teased.

He smiled. "You're safe."

"I already felt safe," you said softly.

"Oh?"

You blushed and looked at the floor, a little embarrassed that those words had left your lips.

Dean crossed the space between you and slid a hand under your chin, lifting it gently to meet his gaze. "Are you saying I make you feel safe?"

His voice was soft and affectionate--it put you at ease. "Yes," you whispered honestly.

Dean smiled warmly. "That's the best thing you could ever say to me."

"Easy to please, I see," you joked lightly, trying to keep your cool.

"Not usually, but you seem to be an exception to the rule."

The way he was looking at you sent a warm feeling through your body and you felt heat pooling in your lower belly. His hand was still on your chin, but you wanted to feel it everywhere.

His thumb began to gently brush against your skin, hand sliding up to your cheek. You leaned into it and your eyelids fluttered closed for a moment. You felt dean's thumb brush gently against your lower lip and you inhaled sharply, eyes opening to meet his fiery gaze.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

You desperately wanted to say yes, everything in you was screaming to say yes...but you couldn't. You needed to know what his intentions were.

"What do you want from me?" you whispered.

He looked taken aback. "I thought that was obvious."

You took a step back and his hand dropped from your face. "I know your reputation...I don't wanna be just another one night stand or some story you tell the boys around the campfire."

He looked hurt--almost as if you'd slapped him. But he seemed to realize you were right...he did have a reputation. "I know it's hard to trust me...I haven't been good to you in the past, but this isn't some one night stand, pity sex thing. I want you. I want this."

"This?" you whispered.

"You're so damn strong, (Y/N). You're smart and funny, you're an amazing hunter and an even better woman. You're brave and selfless and so incredibly loyal. I'm sorry I didn't see it when we first met, but I see it now. I can see what Sam saw in you when we first met. I've spent the last 8 months thinking about you constantly. I want something real with you, (Y/N). It scares the hell out of me, but I need you in my life...if you'll have me."

You listened to his words and you heard the emotion in them. You could feel how much he cared about you--how deeply he meant what he was saying. "I never thought you'd want someone like me."

He looked confused. "Do you mean perfect? Because that's what you are to me."

You gasped softly. "What?"

"You're not a perfect person--none of us are, but you're perfect for me."

"Have you lost your mind? Any recent head injuries?"

Dean laughed lightly. "Nothing like that, baby. I want this--it's real for me."

"Why me?" you said so softly he almost didn't hear you.

"I think I just explained that, sweetheart," he said gently.

You gestured to your body as you said, "But I look like this--and you...you look like that."

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Don't you dare talk badly about your body, baby. Don't you dare."

Tears stung your eyes and you sniffled softly.

"Look at me sweetness," he said softly, taking your face in his hands. "I know I said some terrible things when we first met--some of them about your body. I said it because I knew it would hurt you--I could tell you had some insecurities and I played on them. I feel terrible for it--fucking awful. But I didn't really mean it, baby. I just wanted to hurt you. Please forgive me--please believe me."

The tears streamed down your face and he gently wiped them away.

"It's okay, beautiful. Talk to me."

You sniffed softly. "I forgive you, Dean...and I believe you."

He smiled warmly as he continued to wipe your tears. He stepped a little closer and placed soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and finally, your lips.

You leaned into the kiss, returning the affection in kind. When his lips left yours, he brushed the last tears from your face. "You wanna go to bed now, sweetheart?" he asked softly.

You smiled and shook your head. "I wanna get in bed, but I'm not feeling as tired now."

Dean smirked and his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him as gently as he could. "Oh really? And what would you like to do in bed?"

"I have a feeling you have some ideas."

"Oh baby, I have a lot of ideas...but you've been through a lot today. I don't wanna hurt you."

"I guess you'll just have to be really gentle," you whispered against his lips.

He groaned softly. "I can be gentle...I can be so fucking gentle."

You giggled softly and he smiled, pressing his lips against yours.

"I wanna manhandle the shit outta you just to prove to you that I can...but that'll have to wait until you've healed. For now, I want you to do exactly what I tell you to--and stop me if it hurts too much, okay?"

You nodded.

"Baby, I'm gonna need you to use those words."

"Yes, Dean," you murmured.

He pressed his body up against yours again and you could feel his erection against your abdomen. "You know, I just thought of something..."

"What's that?"

"I think that's the second time you've ever called me by my name."

"What? No--can't be."

"The first time was when you forgave me and then you just said it now...but you usually just call me 'Winchester'."

You thought about it for a moment and realized he was right. "I kinda like saying your name...Dean."

He groaned softly. "I fucking love it, baby. I'm gonna make you scream my name, pretty girl."

"We'll see," you teased.

"Is that a challenge?"

You grinned. "One hundred percent."

"Oh you are in for it now, gorgeous."

You laughed as he pressed his lips against yours before trailing kisses down your neck. He nipped at your pulse point and you moaned softly, earning a grunt of approval from Dean.

"Now remember," he murmured against your skin. "You promised to do what I tell you to, but if you wanna stop, just tell me, okay? I won't do anything you don't wanna do."

You sighed softly. "I trust you, Dean."

"Good," he whispered. "Now take off your clothes."

You gasped in surprise, but quickly started to unbutton your shirt. When it came time to take it off completely, you froze, the familiar discomfort sinking into your mind.

"Hey," he said gently. "Take off whatever you're comfortable with, sweetheart, but I want you to remember that I think you're sexy as hell, okay?"

You nodded and took a deep breath before sliding your shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes roamed your torso appreciatively.

"Can I take off your bra?" he asked softly.

"Yes."

He unhooked your bra with one hand, and gently pulled it forward, exposing your ample breasts to his hungry eyes. "Fuck..." he whispered.

You felt the strong urge to cover up, but you kept your arms at your sides, allowing Dean to take in every inch of skin he could see.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, (Y/N)."

You whimpered softly as his lips latched onto your nipple, one hand at the small of your back to hold you up and the other massaging your breast gently.

Your hands tentatively rested on Dean's shoulders, and you could feel the taunt muscles shift beneath his shirt. You desperately wanted to feel his skin against yours, so you curled your fingers into his shirt and tugged on it gently.

He released your nipple and looked up at you. "What is it, baby? What do you need?"

You bit your lip and shifted slightly. "I wanna feel your skin."

He chuckled softly. "Like this?" he asked as he ran his hands slowly down your sides.

You shook your head and reached for the hem of his shirt. As soon as your hand managed to touch it, he understood what you were asking. He stepped back and yanked his shirt off over his head.

As much as you wanted to feel his body against yours, you stopped him when he leaned back towards you. He looked a little saddened, misunderstanding your movement.

"I'm trying to appreciate perfection," you said softly.

He smiled and puffed out his chest slightly. "You're the perfect one, baby."

You looked up at him with a smile. "Take me to bed, Mr. Winchester."

He chuckled. "Yes ma'am."

He guided you over to the bed and he sat down on the edge, pulling you down with him. You straddled his lap and ground yourself down against his very prominent bulge.

You gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the soft sounds you made. He grabbed ahold of your hips, careful to avoid the wounds on your left one.

"I think you should lose the pants, baby--underwear too."

You pulled yourself off of him, stepping back to slowly peel off your pants and underwear. Your hands were shaking slightly, nervous about being completely naked in front of him. When you stood back up, you found Dean's gaze glued to your body, eyes tracing every inch of you he could see.

He reached out to touch you, but you took a step back, making him look up at you in surprise.

You smirked slightly, feeling emboldened by the obvious desire in his eyes.

"Baby..." he said softly. "Come here."

You shook your head. "Not until you're naked too."

He raised an eyebrow at you, but a small smirk danced across his lips. He liked your commanding voice--he was almost surprised by how much it turned him on.

He stood up, eyes never leaving your face. He slowly took off his jeans, stepping forward to get out of them. He hooked his fingers into his boxers and lowered them slowly, keeping eye contact with you the entire time.

You inhaled sharply as you took in his size--much larger than you were accustomed to. Your eyes flicked back up to his and his smirk had widened slightly.

"Like what you see, pretty girl?"

"Very much, but I'm a little...concerned."

"About what?"

You looked down at his cock and back up at his face. "You're a little...large."

He laughed softly. "I'll be gentle."

"I'm more concerned about it not fitting."

He grinned. "That should not make me feel so good," he chuckled. "It'll fit, sweetheart. You'll see."

"I trust you."

He smiled and took a step towards you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer. He kissed you softly, hands roaming your skin, loving the feeling of your softness. "Fuck, baby--I wanna taste you. I need to."

You gasped softly as two of his fingers gently swiped between your pussy lips, collecting some of your slick. He brought the fingers to his mouth and sucked on them, a soft moan slipping from his lips.

"You taste delicious, sweetness. I want more."

He pulled you down onto the bed with him, tugging your body on top of him. You kissed him passionately, as you ground your hips against his cock.

He groaned into your mouth and his hands traveled up your back, massaging soft circles into your skin.

"Come up here, baby," he begged.

You pulled back, staring at him in confusion. "I don't understand."

He gently caressed your thighs. "I wanna taste you--come sit on my face."

"Do you have a death wish?"

He looked surprised. "What?"

"I'll smother you, Dean."

He rolled his eyes. "Then I'll die an extremely happy man. Suffocate me between those thick, sexy thighs, baby."

Your eyes widened, but you were more than a little intrigued by the concept. You'd never been asked to sit on anyone's face before and you'd certainly never suggested it. You had to admit, you'd always wanted to try it.

"Are you sure?"

"Fuck yeah, babe."

"Okay," you agreed softly.

Dean gently guided you towards his face, helping you straddle his head. His left hand gripped your right hip and he laid his right hand on your left thigh.

"Put my hand above your cuts so I can hold onto you," he requested softly.

You took his right hand and placed it just above the deep gashes on your left hip.

"Good girl," Dean praised. "Now have a seat and let me feast on you."

You lowered yourself onto his mouth, but didn't quite sit down. Instead of admonishing you, Dean dug his fingers into your flesh and tugged you down firmly.

You cried out in a mixture of surprise and pleasure as his tongue slipped through your folds. Dean groaned loudly as he began to devour you.

You had never in your life felt pleasure like Dean was giving you in this moment. The sounds that his ministrations pulled from your lips were absolutely sinful. Your legs had already begun to shake and you were gripping the headboard like your life depended on it.

"Dean, I'm so close," you gasped.

He moaned into your core and his fingers dug further into your flesh, blunt nails scraping against your skin. He didn't stop his actions--the desire to feel you cum outweighing his need to breathe.

Within moments, you cried out as your orgasm washed over you, your thighs squeezing his head tightly. Dean continued working you through your orgasm until you started to squirm away from him. He finally let you go and you leaned back onto his chest as you tried to catch your breath.

Dean moved you as gently as he could, shifting you to straddle his hips as he pulled himself into a sitting position, feet planted firmly on the floor beside the bed. He pulled you against his chest and brushed his fingers through your hair.

"You okay, baby?" he asked softly, lips pressed to your forehead.

"More than okay," you mumbled into his chest.

He chuckled softly as he held you against him, loving the feeling of your softness beneath his fingers.

After a few more moments, you sat up and bit your lip. "Dean?"

He smiled at you. "Hmm?"

"I want you to fuck me."

His eyes widened slightly and he shifted his hips under you, brushing his cock against your core. "I'm happy to oblige," he teased softly.

You sighed as he kissed you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned into the kiss and his hands slid down your body, lifting you slightly so he could line himself up with your entrance.

"Are you sure you wanna do it in this position?" you asked quietly.

"It's the only position where I can pleasure you, hold you close, and avoid hurting you. So yeah, baby, I'm sure."

You looked into his beautiful green eyes and smiled warmly. You could feel how much he cared about you and it warmed your soul.

"You ready?" he whispered.

"I'm ready."

He held his cock firmly, letting you take the lead as you slowly lowered yourself down onto him. By the time you'd lowered yourself completely, you were both breathless.

The stretch was incredible--unlike anything you'd ever experienced. You swore you could feel him in your lower belly--you'd never felt so full.

Dean leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as he let you adjust to his size.

"You can move now," you whispered.

"Just one moment, sweetheart, I--I need a moment."

"Are you okay?"

He looked up at your pretty face and smiled. "I'm fucking phenomenal, babe...but your pussy feels so goddamn incredible, so tight and warm--I just need a second to control myself."

You blushed at his praise, warmth rushing through your body at his words. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then his jaw, before finding the sweet spot on his neck that made him moan.

His hands dug into your flesh as he started to roll his hips against yours. You gasped softly against his skin, pleasure washing over you.

"Hold onto me, sweetheart," Dean murmured softly.

You did as he asked, clinging tightly to his shoulders and tightening your thighs against his.

Dean wrapped his arms around you, careful not to hold you too tightly or touch your stitched wounds. He pressed his lips softly against your collarbone as he rolled his hips again.

He gave you less than a second to get comfortable before he began to thrust up into you in earnest. His feet were planted firmly on the floor, allowing him to piston up into you.

"Dean!" you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.

Each thrust was calculated and hard, making your body shiver with pleasure. He shifted slightly, pulling you more firmly into his chest, which changed the angle of his thrusts. The new angle allowed him to hit your g-spot with each thrust.

You moaned loudly and dug your nails more firmly into his shoulders and back.

"There it is," Dean murmured against your soft skin. "Feels so good, baby."

"Don't stop," you pleaded.

"I have no intention to."

His thrusts sped up to an almost shocking speed and your whole body vibrated with pleasure. You could feel your orgasm quickly approaching, but you couldn't voice it. The pleasure overwhelmed your mind--rendering you speechless.

"You close baby? I can feel you squeezing me."

In response, you nipped at his shoulder and moaned into his skin.

He chuckled lightly. "That's it, pretty girl. I want you to cum for me--wanna feel you cum all over my cock."

You whimpered softly, "Please."

"I've got you, baby. Let go for me."

Your legs had begun to shake and you cried out in pleasure as your orgasm slammed into you with surprising force. You called his name as he worked you through it, thrusts beginning to falter as he chased his own high.

"I'm close, baby," he whispered against your throat.

You used what strength you had left to clamp down onto his cock, squeezing him as tightly as you could.

"Oh--fuck," Dean gasped. He began to cum inside you, coating your walls with his seed. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder to keep himself from crying out at the intensity of his orgasm.

You relaxed your body against him as his thrusts slowed to a stop, forehead resting against his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath.

Dean's arms were still wrapped around you, holding you close to him as he came down from his high. He placed soft open mouthed kisses to your skin and whispered sweet nothings.

Dean began to shift his body as his member softened inside you. You whimpered softly, body too sensitive for any kind of movement.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You okay?"

You nodded. "I'm okay, just a little sore."

He grinned wolfishly. "That makes me feel good."

You laughed softly and smacked his arm affectionately. "It's a little bit of you and a little of that whole monster fight from earlier."

He made a pouty face, which only made you laugh more. The increased laughter hurt your sore ribs and you winced at the pain.

"Shit, sorry sweetheart."

"Not your fault."

He brushed your hair back from your face so he could look at you better. "You look so sexy right now, baby."

You blushed. "I look like I had the shit beat out of me."

"Nah, you look like you just got well and properly fucked," he teased.

You chuckled slightly. "It was quite nice, I must say."

He grinned. "Just you wait until you're all healed up--I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't be able to walk straight for days."

You gasped. "Oh my."

He licked his lips and kissed you softly. "I could kiss you all night long."

"As much as I would love that, I think we should take a shower. I'm exhausted."

"Alright, pretty girl." Dean stood up, still holding you. You wrapped your legs around his waist to avoid falling to the ground. "I've got you, (Y/N/N)."

You looked down at him. "I know."

He smiled and kissed you gently. "Shower, then bed."

"Yes, sir."

"Oo," he said happily. "I like that."

You grinned. "I'll keep that in mind for later."

Dean grinned back at you. "You're gonna be in for a wild ride, sweetness."

"Is that a promise?"

"Absolutely."

After your shower, Dean carried you back to your bed and laid you down gently. He crawled into the bed beside you and pulled you close so your head was resting on his chest.

He kissed the top of your head and ran his fingers up and down your arm. "I want you to come with us," he said suddenly.

"What?" you asked in surprise as you looked up at him.

"I want you to come hunt with Sam and I...permanently."

"Are you--are you sure?"

"I told you this was real for me, baby. I want to try this with you, and that means you should be with me. I mean--if you want."

You smiled at him and touched his cheek gently. "I would love to go with you."

He grinned happily and kissed you sweetly. "Excellent. I'm sure Sam won't mind."

"As long as we get our own room, I'm sure he won't," you teased.

He laughed. "Oh yeah, we're gonna need that."

You smiled and kissed his chest softly. You yawned and curled further into him, exhaustion finally weighing you down.

"Go to sleep baby. I'll be right here when you wake up," Dean whispered.

You fell fast asleep in Dean's arms and he watched you for a while before sleep finally came to him. He hadn't felt so full and happy in a long time and it was one hundred percent because of you. He felt honored you were willing to give a relationship with him a chance, despite everything that had happened between the two of you in the past. He was determined to do everything he could to make sure you never regretted that decision.

Buy Me a Coffee 💜

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester x plus size reader smut #supernatural #supernatural smut

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hexed?

Dean Winchester & daughter!reader, Sam Winchester & niece!reader

Requested by anonymous (x2)

Synopsis: you get your period for the first time, and Sam and Dean help you through it

Warnings: blood, period, crying, fluff

You awoke in the middle of the night, unsure at first what had woken you up. Then a sudden, stabbing pain in the pit of your gut had a pained gasp escaping your lips.

“What…” you mumbled as you pulled your blankets aside and clicked on your lamp. Another gasp, this time one of shock, came out as you saw blood covering your sheets and blankets. The gasp was followed by a whimper as another wave of pain washed over you.

You didn’t understand; you hadn’t been injured anywhere recently, and certainly not down there…

The only thing you could think of was a witch—Rowena had been around lately, and though she seemed to be on your side, could you really be sure? She could have left a hex bag in your room, something that would make you bleed to death! You checked your mouth, your nose, your ears—anywhere else that you could be bleeding from—but nothing; it was just between your legs. Your chest was tight, your throat constricted, as panicked gasps left you. You tried to take deep breaths—you needed to keep calm—but it wasn’t very effective.

You wanted to go and get your dad and Uncle Sam, but first you decided to do a quick sweep of the room; you didn’t find any hex bags.

You made your way awkwardly towards your fathers room, very aware of the blood running down your right leg. Your hands were shaking as you reached out to knock on his door, and when you looked down you realized that all of you was shaking.

Dean opened the door, rubbing his face and looking half asleep.

“N/N? What are you doing up?”

“I-I-I…” you swallowed hard and tried again to speak past your tears. “I think I got hexed.”

Dean was suddenly alert, his eyes fully open and his stance straight.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Im ble-bleeding and it won’t stop,” you sobbed.

“Bleeding? Where?” It was too dark for Dean to see the growing stain on your pajama pants.

“Um…my-my…” you were suddenly shy, struck with how awkward it felt to talk about this with your father. You clammed up, alarming Dean.

“Commere,” he said, opening his room for further and gesturing you in. He clicked on his bedroom lamp and looked you up and down. It took him mere seconds to see the blood on your pants, and to your surprise he relaxed completely. “Oh kiddo…”

His lips began to twitch ever-so-slightly, and now it looked like he was having an internal battle. Was he…

“Are you smiling?!” You demanded. “Dad, I could be dying!”

A single second of laughter escaped him before he schooled his features, noting how scared you were.

“Honey, you’re not dying, I swear. This is totally normal.”

“Normal? How could this be normal, I’m bleeding!” Dean’s nonchalance just made you more frustrated, which just made more tears fall.

“Hey, hey ok,” Dean’s voice was gentle and understanding. “Just take a seat and I’m gonna go get Sam. He can get you what you need for this and while he’s gone I’ll explain it.”

“Do-do we have to tell Uncle Sam?” You mumbled, still embarrassed, but less panicked.

“Trust me, Uncle Sam knows what this is too. It’s not gonna bother him a bit.”

“Ok.” You nodded your assent. “But-but I can’t sit on your bed, I’ll get blood all over your sheets.”

“Just sit, I’ll wash them later, ok?” Only after you’d hesitantly sat on your dad’s bed did he leave to get Sam.

…

Dean was just wrapping up his explanation when Sam returned with a Walmart bag and a gentle smile.

“Hey there,” he greeted. “How are we doing?”

“Um—ok,” you mumbled. Now that you understood you weren’t dying, you were more embarrassed than anything. “Sorry for freaking out.”

“Don’t apologize,” Dean insisted. “I should’ve told you earlier, I just…I thought I’d have another year or two.” Dean ruffled your hair. “You’re growing up fast, kiddo.”

Your lips twitched up—only a little—and Dean grinned before turning to take the bag from Sam.

“Ok, what do we have here?”

“Uh—“ Sam scratched the back of his neck. “Well I asked this lady that was buying some of this stuff herself, just to make sure I got everything. I got pads and tampons, because she said that Y/N should get to pick. Then I got a heating pad—that’s supposed to help with cramps. I got this one that you can plug in, it looks easy to use, but then I got this one shaped like a teddy bear that you can put in the microwave.” Sam reached into the bag as he spoke, pulling out each item in turn. Sure enough, he pulled out a little brown bear, and you smiled. “And then I got a lot of chocolate, and some, uh…” Sam pulled out a bottle. “I don’t really know what they are, but it’s supposed to be better for cramps and stuff than Advil, so…”

Looking at all the stuff on the table, you felt incredible overwhelmed. You needed all this stuff?

“Ok.” Dean clapped his hands together. “I guess you should start with these.” He held out the box of pads and the box of tampons. You took them both, reading the instructions on the back carefully before taking both boxes with you to the bathroom. You returned a few minutes later to both men busy at work—Dean taking the sheets off his bed while Sam was returning from your room with clean clothes.

You took the clothes from Sam and retreated back into the bathroom, and after a quick shower to clean yourself off, you emerged again in clean pajamas. Dean was just returning to the room with the teddy bear fresh from the microwave, and Sam had gotten you a water bottle.

“Do you want us to take this stuff to your room?” Dean asked, and you saw his question for the open invitation that it was.

“Could I stay in here?” You asked, and Dean smiled.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m gonna go get some clean sheets, and then we can go back to bed, ok?”

Not ten minutes later, Sam had returned to his room and you and Dean were getting comfortable in his bed.

“Just let me know how you’re feeling in the morning, and we’ll go from there ok?” Dean said.

“Ok,” you mumbled sleepily, burrowing into Dean’s side. “Hey dad?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure, kiddo.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

#dean winchester #the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x daughter!reader #sam winchester x niece!reader

[kaleldobrev]

Never the Favorite

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Platonic Pairing: Sam Winchester & F. Reader

Summary: You finally try and set the record straight

Word Count: 844

Warnings: Cursing (1x)

Authors Note: Takes place during season one | Something that always got me, is whenever Sam said something along the lines of Dean being the favorite child. Like Sam, he wasn’t and it was pretty clear so that’s what I based this fic on | Let me know if you like the new way I have formatted | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

It was another classic Sam and Dean argument — Sam telling Dean how he was never the favorite child growing up and how Dean actually was; and how much of a black sheep of the family Sam had felt because he didn't want to go into the family business. It was an argument and a sentiment that you were so used to hearing at this point that you could pretty much recite word for word their replies. The boys were starting to sound like broken records, and you and Dean had only picked up Sam from Stanford a few months ago.

You didn't want to get involved in their argument as you felt like it wasn't really your place, but there was a part of you that started to get annoyed with Sam, because you knew that Dean was never the favorite — Sam always was. You knew how hard Dean had tried over the years to try and get his father's approval, but it was approval that he would never be able to get, no matter how hard he tried. It killed you inside, because you loved Dean for who he truly was, not who he was pretending to be.

But because you had heard this argument so many times, you had told yourself that you were finally going to say something to Sam; to try and stop this argument once and for all.

Parking Baby and cutting the engine, Dean pulled out his wallet from the glove compartment, pulling out a crumpled up 20 that he won from a poker game a few nights ago. “Gonna grab some snacks. Either of you want anything?” He asked before turning to you. “Want your usual chocolate anything?”

You gave him a small smile. “Yes please. And orange soda if they have it.”

“Getting you the bottle this time. ‘Cause I don’t want another spilling incident like last time with the can,” he said, giving you a wink. “How about you?” He asked, turning to Sam.

“I’m good thanks,” Sam nodded, before pulling out his phone and promptly started checking his e-mail.

“Alrighty,” Dean said, getting out of the car. “Be back in ten.”

As soon as Dean was out of eyeshot and earshot, you sat up closer to the passenger side where Sam was, placing a hand on the back of the seat. “Hey, I know he’s your brother and the whole point of brothers is basically being assholes to each other but, I really need you to lay off the whole Dean being the favorite stuff.”

Sam turned to you, placing his phone in his lap; the look he gave you was of pure confusion. “But he is the favorite. Always has, always will be. I know you probably wouldn’t know that consider —”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” you began, slight attitude in your voice. “I’ve been hunting with Dean and your father for about a year now, and let me tell you, I didn’t need to be around for your childhoods to know that you were and are still the very clear favorite.”

“Me? The favorite?” He scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

You rolled your eyes. “Did it ever occur to you why he’s so similar to your dad? Why he barely shows any of his actual interests around anyone but me? Dean wears his jacket, listens to the same music, says the same phrases.”

“But…that’s how Dean always has been," Sam stated. For as long as he could remember, that's always how he remembered Dean, being so similar to their father. Memories flashed before him, recalling numerous times where him and his father sang along to Zeppelin during one of their many insanely long car rides to Pastor Jim's, or how Dean would refuse to go anywhere without their father's leather jacket.

"You really know nothing about your brother do you?" You asked him, slight sadness and hurt entering your voice. You hadn't known for very long, but you had known him long enough for him to start letting you in and getting to know the real him, and not the facade he let everyone else believe. "The only reason Dean acts like your father is because in his mind, if he acts like him he'll get the approval he always wanted that you never had to try and get." You felt your blood start to boil. "So please stop with the fucking favorite argument okay? I'm sick and tired of it."

Sam was silent for a moment, as he's never seen you this angry before nor has he ever seen you this defensive of anyone. As much as he wanted to disagree with you, he knew that he couldn't because he clearly didn't know Dean the way that you did. He might of spent 18 years of his life on the road with him, but he didn't actually know him. "Okay," he finally said, slightly sighing.

"Just...don't tell Dean I said any of this to you okay?" You asked him, slightly patting his shoulder.

"Of course," he said, slightly smiling.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @octoberclidan @kidwhofixates @crystal555 @hannahisthebanana @seamlessepiphany @madzzz0797 @livingordeadwhoknows

@writinginfear @Roskar16 @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @midorimachisenpaii @rachiem4-blog @taraswifes @zepskies @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @mrlonelycat @frozenhuntress67 @coldspoons @androah @savagemickey03

@grx-deanslovr @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @the-achievementhunter @ficmesideways @nancymcl If you’d like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #sam winchester & you #sam winchester & reader #spn imagine #spn one shot #supernatural #spn #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagine #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader

[justroaminground]

hot mess (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Weeeeelll, hi and hello!

here i am back with another one shot! hehe i already would like to say sorry, i don't know where that came from! i just hope you enjoy it.

summary: sam and dean are family friends and sam decides to join your dad on an investigation, while you stay back with dean. ;) you basically teas him until he can not control himself any longer..whopsi

warnings: just smut, FILTHY smut!, age gap (but legal), creampie, no protection used,

_______________________________________________

"well, i guess we have to wait then." you said while exhaling loudly, walking from the door back to the kitchen table where dean was sitting.

one of his hands rested on the table, holding a beer, while the other hand was resting on his thigh. when you turned around from the door to dean, you caught him checking you out. his gaze immediately went from your body back onto the floor and he nibbled on his lower lip.

your dad and sam just took of, checking out a hint. the 4 of you were solving a case and your dad needed some back up. sam and your dad were on the way, breaking into a police station to get some evidence. knowing this would take quiet a while, you had to spent the time with dean in your house.

dean never knew when to stop hitting on woman, but he never dared to talk to you that way. knowing your dad, his respect for your dad was unbelievable high. you sure as hell were exactly his type and the two of you had some hot flirts, but it never got any further. unfortunately.

you walked over to the fridge, to get yourself another beer.

"don't think you should be drinking right now y/n" dean spoke up.

"dad's not her and i am pretty sure they won't need us." you shrugged and opened it up. "cheers" you smiled sweetly while gesturing him to drink with you.

"what makes you so sure?" he asked with a interested expression.

swallowing the first gulp of the beer. you sat right opposite of him on at the table. you placed the beer on the table and held it with both hands.

"i feel like your brother is..very good at what he's doin' ya know?" you explained to him and looked straight into his eyes.

loosening the grip with one hand from the beer bottle you placed one finger on the bottleneck and stroke it a little to remove the water drops. since the beer was so cold and the room itself was pretty hot, there formed water drops on the bottle and you always had the ick to remove them.

"what? my brother seems to be a better help than i am?" dean smirked and tried to provoke you into saying something nice about him.

a grin formed on your lips and you decided to act exactly against his will. "well i gotta admit. it may does not seem like it, but some girls are into nerds dean." you confessed and bit your lower lip.

before he was able to say something, he watched your fingers. sliding over the bottle. dean couldn't help, but his filthy thoughts about you just raced through his mind. comprehending what you just said, his jaw clenched and his eyes shot from the bottle back up to you.

seeing this very raw side of him, made you shiver. the little hairs on your neck stood up and you pressed your thighs together. feeling your pussy getting a heartbeat.

dean already had his next words on his tongue, ready to spit them out. "let me convince you otherwise", but he kept them to himself. he broke the very intense eye contact and laughed quietly. one side of him, wanted to care for you so bad, but his logical thinking told him otherwise. he could possibly be your father. thing's just got hard for him, because you were a clever, attractive young woman, being very grown up for your age.

"well luckily i do not have to understand that. ignoring that he is even older than you are young lady! " dean said and leaned back against the chair. relaxing again, trying to calm the very tensed atmosphere.

a little bit of dissatisfaction made itself noticeable in your body. you wanted him so bad, you were literally craving for this man. literally man. he was the same age as your dad was, the two of you had a pretty rough age gap, but instead of being turned of, you were even more turned on. knowing you were a little freak sometimes, you weren't even ashamed of living your freaky side. the goal of tonight was getting fucked by him. whatever it needed..

"is that a problem?" you asked innocently and raised an eyebrow.

"what?" dean asked, looking back at you.

"the age gap?" you asked and took another sip of your beer.

he wanted to say something, but you were able to see he thought about it for a moment again. his lips pointed and formed into a laugh. he shook his head and once again switched his gaze from you to the floor and back up at you.

"i do think it is a problem." he confirmed and the expression on his face got more serious.

"oh..what a shame." you whispered and smirked. sipping once again on your bottle. grinning against the bottle opening, putting the beer down onto the table you got up. "luckily i don't" you got up and slowly walked along the long side of the table. your fingertips slowly slid over the table top.

"i don't like where this is going y/n" dean said while giving you a serious stare.

"don't look at me like that dean.." you pouted, while bitting your lower lip once again. you stopped right in front of him. "you're scaring me.." walking slowly around him, stopping right behind him.

"what are you trying?" dean tried to stay calm and play it off cool. he kept his gaze very persistent on his beer and fiddled the label off.

placing your hands on his shoulders, the smirk on your face grew and you leaned down to whisper into his ear. "keep on acting like that." your hands stroke further down onto his chest.

dean inhaled a sharp breath and his hands immediately grabbed yours, pushing them of. he stoop up and faced you. "stop it y/n!" he looked at you and raised his voice a bit.

not being a bit impressed by his anger issues, but got even more turned on. "make me." you talked very calmly back and kept the intense eye contact with him. quickly you pushed the chair aside and fell to your knees. still holding the eye contact with dean, you were going all in. wanting to feel his hands so badly on your body you swore to yourself you would drive this man crazy.

being very impressed by what you just did, his eyes widened and his jaw clenched even harder. by now his molars, must definitely be hurting. his strong and large hands rolled into fists and he fought so hard with himself, simply watching you.

"pretty please, dean." you looked at him with your doll like eyes and licked your lower lip. "will you care for me? at least that's what my dad wanted you to do.." a soft, pleading whisper left your lips and your hands reached for his belt.

"you know damn well, this is absolutely wrong!" dean hissed and his breathing got faster than it used to be.his hand once again grabbed yours, but before he was able to push you off, you pushed him forcefully back against the table and his hands immediately grabbed the edge of the table. distracting him with your quick move, you opened up his belt and opened up his jeans. butting one hand onto his growing member you smirked up at his scattered face.

"fuck!" dean clearly cursed out. his fingers clawed so tight onto the edge of the table, his knuckles turned white. he wanted to push you off, knowing this is a huge taboo, but he just couldn't. your soft hand against his crotch just felt to fucking good. he no longer knew what was wrong or right. how could something so filthy and wrong, feel so good and erotic at the same time? his mind was spinning and he couldn't help himself, but enjoy your touch.

your hand stroke along his hard cock, pressing against his jeans and you just admired this beautiful man. his facial expression still showed how hard he was fighting with his morals, but you knew he will be braking in. "don't make this so hard on yourself dean.." your voice broke through to him.

"h-how am i supposed to?! a fucking hot teen is kneeling right in front of me, pleading to be fucked, while i am supposed to take care for her" deans thoughts rushed unfiltered from his mind, out of his mouth and right when he was finished you already pulled down his jeans and boxers. admiring his rock hard cock, your mouth already craved tasting him.

not hesitating for a moment you took him into your mouth and whimpered satisfied against his tip. your big round eyes, looked up at him and his eyes widened in shock. his mouth fell open and against his will he loved it. he just loved how good your mouth felt around his cock. "holy shit y/n" he moaned out and his low and husky voice made you even more wet.

being motivated by his reaction, you opened your mouth even a bit more and almost fit him completely in. moving your head a bit slower at the beginning, your hands still rested on his thighs slightly holding onto him. his head fell back into his neck and he moaned in relief.

one of his hands found their way into your hair and that little touch made your body react so strong you moaned against his cock. his fingers grabbed your hair just the right way and he pushed your needy down against his length.

"you're such a whore for me y/n aren't you?" dean stated and held you down for a few seconds onto his cock. "giving yourself like that to me, a man the same age as your dad. what a filthy little whore you are.."he continued and let go of your head.

talking him out of your mouth with a "bloop", you spit into your hand and worked his length with your hand. "if you only knew how may wet dreams i had of you.." your eyes mirrored the lust from your body. wearing the dirtiest smile on your lips.

dark lust formed in deans eyes and he grabbed your hair, pulling your head back, making you look up at him and he leaned down onto your level. being shocked by this move you looked at him, switching your expression from filthy back to the most innocent angel you were.

"open your mouth." dean demanded.

you opened your mouth without a inch of hesitation. his other hand grabbed your face and he spit into your mouth. your mind stopped functioning at this exact moment and everything just felt like pure ecstasy right now. before you knew it, your lips crashed hungrily against his lips and kissed him slutty. pressing your body needy up against his body, he immediately pulled you off the floor and placed you rough on the table. a moan escaped from you lips into the kiss and he began to open up your jeans.

you moved your body just the right ways to help him undress you. within seconds you found yourself naked winding in his grip, trying to get more and more of him. the only thing he still wore, was his flannel. it was all unbuttoned and exposed his lean upper body. your hands explored every inch of his body and your legs were curled around his waist. his cock was pressed against your wet pussy and you couldn't help but wiggle your hips, wanting to feel him finally inside you.

the two of you were still exchanging wet and passionate kisses. his hands wandered from your cheeks down to your shoulders, softly sliding further down to your breasts. dean massaged them, with his huge hands, leaving you a hot mess beneath him.

"f-fuck me please.." you moaned against his lips and looked up at him. your lips were red and swollen from all the kissing and sucking. your eyes were watery from all the arousal building up in your body, you couldn't keep it together anymore.

"i will..don't you worry about that.." dean moaned against your neck and his hungry lips kissed their way down to your breast. he left wet kisses on your right breast. licking and kissing you nipple. he took his time and worked your breast just the right way to drive you even more crazy.

his hands held your safely against his body and you pressed your hip more against his. "i-i am begging you dean.." you started off once again and your had a hard time breathing. "fuck me, use me already.." you whimpered and gave yourself completely away in his hands.

"how bad do you want it..?" he loosened his grip a bit around you and smirked. his hand rested on your tummy and he pushed you back onto the table. you supported yourself on your elbows and looked up at him. "very very bad." you whimpered and bit your lower lip. his hand on your tummy slowly stroke further down, until he reached your bellybutton. he stopped right there and grabbed your hip.

"look at yourself..spreading your legs for me, being such a wet mess for me.."he smirked while taking in every inch of you beneath him. his words gave you goosebumps and you took a sharp breath in.

loving your reaction, he took his cock into his free hand and touched your clit with it. drawing little circles.

"not gonna lie. you don't know how my times..i imagined that tight, pink pussy, stretching just perfectly around my cock." he continued and you grabbed as hard as you could into the table. your hands started to shake a bit and you couldn't believe what he just said. "d-dean stop the teasing please.." you moaned out and your voice got a bit higher. moaning like a little angel beneath his touch you took every second in.

"just one more thing.." he guided his tip along your slit further down to your entrance. you quickly nodded your head and watched his lips hungrily in need of what was that one thing, keeping you away from feeling his cock finally inside you.

"let's keep this our dirty lil secret.." he whispered and his grip on your hips got tighter. nodding like crazy you confirmed to him and before you were able to prepare yourself, he trusted his length into you.

all the feelings and hunger that built up, completely wrecked you right now. feeling his thick and long cock, fucking you deeply you just couldn't comprehend it. your body felt like drugged from all the feelings rushing through you. him pushing into you very deeply, each thrust hits the right spot. making you weaker with every thrust. your body fell back onto the table and one hand grabbed your breast. the other one rested on your lower tummy, feeling him moving inside you. your vision got a blurred and your senses felt ten times more intense. everything felt more intense.

his strong arms wrapped around your body and pressed you safely against his. one hand held you onto him and the other one rested on the table to support him. he rested his forehead onto yours and kept moving inside you. moans, whispers as well as relieving gasps filled the room.

"open those pretty eyes angel" dean breathed out heavily and wanted to be sure you're okey.

opening your eyes you looked up into his eyes and couldn't help, but moan. "y-you're fucking me so good.." your voice cracked and you clawed one hand into his shoulder and the other one into his back. at this point he wasn't able to control himself any longer and he moved your body a bit more to the edge of the table. making you more accessible for him. he pushed himself as far as he could into you. his trust got a bit slower, but each time he made sure to push you down onto his cock, while trusting into you.

this just drove you crazy and you tried to hold up the eye contact. "i- i can't hold it in any longer dean.." you whimpered and already felt your abdomen twitch.

"cum for me." he whispered against your lips and kissed you softly but needy. him giving you the confirmation to cum, send you over the edge and you stopped holding it back any longer. a wave of electricity drove through your body and it released itself. your walls tightened up, making dean moan in surprise as he couldn't held it back himself any longer. he came into you and for a minute the both of you stayed in this position.

gently he picked you up, pulling himself out of you, walking over to the living room. he sat down and held you onto his lap. your head rested on his chest and he placed a kiss on your temple.

taking the time you needed to get back from your high you just laid there in his arms. your body still felt weak and sore, but it was okey. it was exactly what you craved. dean on the other hand just cared for you, making sure you were okey and he didn't go to hard on you.

"you okey..?" he whispered and looked at you. stroking your arm.

"just fine.." you gave back and kissed his shoulder. "i hate to admit it, but we should probably get dressed.."you added and looked up at him.

"pretty sure they're going to be back soon, yeah. but i just wanted to be sure you're okey." dean explained and hugged you a bit more against his body.

after a few minutes, the both of you got up and one after the other took a quick shower. you stayed in the living room while dean was in the kitchen. just as the two of you settled, the door swung open and sam, as well as you dad came in.

"unfortunately a dead end." sam said and rolled his eyes in exhaustion.

"did the two of you maybe found anything?!" your dad added desperately.

"uhm..well..no not really..honestly we hoped you guess would be successful.." dean kinda stammered and licked his lower lip.

sam raised and eyebrow and looked at dean.

"well then, let's continue the search." your dad said, not thinking anything while grabbing a bear and sitting down onto the table. searching the police files once again.

"seriously dude?!" sam whispered very very quietly, so only dean would be able to hear him. he already knew that was going on.

dean just smirked and shrugged his shoulders. looking over to you in the living room. you laid there, watching tv in your pj's and smiled innocently at the two of them. not knowing what they just talked about.

#the cw supernatural #oneshot #sam #supernatural #thecw #winchester #dean #dean winchester #samwinchester #smut #spn #spnxreader #spnfandom #supernatural fanfiction #winchester smut #winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #spn smut #sam smut #thecwspn #supernatural fandom #fandom #samwinchesterxreader #filthy #filthysmut #dean smut

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 10

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

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

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

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,300 Tags/Warnings: **Sexual harassment, angst, perilous situations, hurt/comfort

Part 10: “Toil and Trouble”

After visiting his father, Dean spent the rest of his day unsettled. He couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly, but he had a gut feeling that John knew more than he was saying.

He understood that his dad was looking out for him, trying to protect him, but Dean had a problem.

He didn’t like being left in the dark.

You were working later than usual that afternoon, so he had more than one reason to invite Sam and Cas out for a drink. They met at the Roadhouse and sat in their usual corner. Unfortunately, they were getting drinks and a show.

Jo stormed out of the back room behind the bar with her mother hot on her heels.

“You stop right there, Joanna Beth—”

“Mom, you’re not going to talk me out of it! I’m taking the damn test and I’m going to get in and I’m going to the Police Academy!”

“And all the money I shelled out for you to go to college, to get your degree, something I never got, by the way.”

“I know. And I’m grateful for that, but I did the college thing for you and Dad,” Jo said.“I don’t want to go into business. I never did.”

“No, because owning your own business ain’t respectable,” Ellen said, with all due sarcasm as she crossed her arms. “Never mind that I thought I could leave this place to you someday. Never mind that you’d rather be walking these streets with a gun than take care of the last thing your father left us.”

Jo finally stopped at that. She turned on her heel and withered slightly.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she said. “I just don’t want to serve at a bar my whole life, Mom. I want to help people.”

Ellen’s brows shot up at that. She leaned back on her heels, as if she’d been delt a blow. Dean looked over and saw the guilt that set over Jo’s features, but neither Harvelle woman backed down.

“So you don’t want to end up like me,” said Ellen, clicking her tongue. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“Mom, that’s not what I meant,” Jo tried, but her mother waved her off.

“No,” Ellen’s voice came out sharp as she went for a hand towel. “You do what you want, Jo. You’re grown, I suppose.”

She wiped down a few droplets by Cas’s hand before whipping the damp towel over her shoulder. And she walked down the line to continue serving her customers, leaving Jo standing at the other end, disheartened.

Sam and Dean shared a glance with each other, then with Cas, though they tried to keep their heads down and their noses out of the family business. Frankly, they were relieved when Jo left the bar.

Still, Dean couldn’t help but glance up at Ellen when she came back their way. He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

“Don’t you ask me if I’m okay, Dean Winchester,” she said. Her voice was quieter, tired, but it still cut like a whip.

He bobbed his head and looked down at his beer. “Yes, ma’am.”

But after a moment, his eyes raised to find Ellen’s face.

“You want another?” she asked, pointing to his drink. It was still half full, but Dean nodded with a smile, just to help her out. She seemed to want to distract herself with work. He was liable to do the same thing when he was stressed. 

She nodded with a slight smile. After she left to go grab it for him, he raised his brows and looked over at his brother and his friend, whistling lowly.

“And we thought our family had issues,” Sam remarked. Dean huffed at that.

“Speaking of.” Dean turned to Cas on his left. “Dad told me you guys are making headway on this crime boss-turned-arsonist.”

Cas met him with a shrewd brow raise. “What did John tell you?”

Dean frowned, his brows knitting together. “I hate it when you do that.”

“What?”

“Cover his ass,” Dean replied. He lowered his voice to ask, “Have you figured out what’s connecting all the vics? What ties them to Azazel, besides the brand marks?”

Cas sighed, running a hand over his face. Meanwhile, Sam watched the exchange with tight lips.

“Dean, you know I can’t tell you that,” said Cas.

“Hey, this guy’s starting fires in my neck of the woods. I can help,” Dean said.

“We’re already working with Arson—”

“Oh yeah. Sounds like Dad’s party line.”

“Dean,” Sam interjected, but Dean shook his head stubbornly.

“No, Sam. This isn’t just about fires, or some random nut job offing people,” Dean said. He tried his best to keep his voice quiet, despite the frustration coursing through his blood. “This is about Mom, no matter how much you wish it wasn’t.”

The brothers stared at each other for a moment, their silence charged with unspoken confrontation.

Eventually, Sam relented with a shallow breath through his nose. He turned to Cas, as did Dean. With the weight of both Winchesters on him, Cas finally had to sigh as well. He set down his whiskey on the countertop.

“Jerry Stillwell, the CPA,” he began. “We traced a secondary bank account in his name. It showed several ‘consultant invoices,’ for tens of thousands of dollars. The payments were wired from a company called Edlund Emporium.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded. “What does it lead back to?” 

“By all accounts, it’s just a wholesaler of antiques,” Cas explained. “But we believe it might be a shadow company for a larger enterprise. Drug runners are known to hide their product within secret compartments in furniture, in the frames behind paintings, etcetera.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Narcos,” Dean quipped.

“Who owns the Emporium?” Sam asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Cas admitted. “Its records are proving difficult to trace. However, the one relevant thing we were able to retrieve from Stillwell’s home files was an old audit of Edlund Emporium from 1996. It showed some old statements of the company using a storage facility downtown: Stull Storage.”

Stull Storage. Dean’s head tilted in thought. Why did that name sound familiar?

Cas noted his recognition with another nod.

“That particular storage facility was also linked to a money laundering scheme. You’re thinking of Paul Richardson, the father of two, who was killed in last month’s fire,” said Cas. “Well, as it turns out, he was a defense attorney who failed to get his client acquitted for that case. His client was a known drug runner, decades ago. And he actually pushed product for Azazel.”

“How do you know that?” Dean asked.

Cas sighed. “Your father remembered him from his time in Narcotics.”

Shit, Dean thought. He looked over at his brother, and by now, Sam’s gears were turning at Mach speed.

“Who owns Stull Storage then?” Sam asked. 

“A company called Savage & Co.,” Cas said. He looked over more pointedly at Dean, whose eyes widened in realization. 

“My girlfriend’s company?”

You hated having to work late. Not because of the working, but because the office was much quieter after 5:00 p.m. Too quiet.

Your desk phone rang, making you jolt in your seat. Once you saw the extension calling, you exhaled loudly and resigned yourself to answering the phone.

“Yes?”

“Come up to my office for a sec. I wanna discuss something with you,” said Nick.

And that. You really hated that.

Your eyes closed as you took in a breath.

“I’m working on an upsell for the Greenway account. Can we meet in the morning?” you asked.

“This is important,” he insisted.

You held in a sigh, but you agreed and hung up. You steeled yourself and took your phone with you as you decided to take the elevator up to the 30th floor. At least if it got stuck, it would get you out of this impromptu meeting with your boss.

Unfortunately for you, Betsy ran like clockwork. You were at Nick’s office within minutes—the penthouse suite of the building. Lavishly furnished, complete with a full leather couch set and coffee table for entertaining corporate big wigs, a large desk for Nick to pretend to work, and a fully stocked bar, where he did most of his “actual” work.

An expensive looking set of gold clubs were leaned against the wall, next to the bar. You knew it was his pride and joy, and he often brought it up in conversation when he was “networking.”

Just now, the sun was setting through the large windows overlooking his desk. The view was quite picturesque; the only thing that marred it was Nick Savage himself. He smiled and beckoned you into the room when he noticed you. You left the door open when you entered.

He got up from his desk and gestured over to the lounge area. He hinted at you taking a seat beside him on the same couch, but you sat on the opposite one, leaving the coffee table between you. His smile lessened a pinch. But he got up, as if he was just remembering something. He made his way to the bar.

“Want a drink?” he asked you over his shoulder.

“No, thank you,” you flatly replied. “Nick, I told Mr. Greenway that I would have that paperwork into processing by end-of-day today.”

“Yep, you are working hard,” Nick nodded. “Miss Busy Bee.”

He filled a tumbler three quarters of the way with bourbon and took it back with him to the couch where you sat. You crossed your legs and subtly shifted backwards. It left a foot or so of distance in between.  

“That’s what I like about you,” he continued. “You do what it takes to get the job done.”

“I take my work seriously,” you said, in a pointed tone.

Nick inclined his head.

“You sure do. And you’re doing very well. In just a few years, you’ve racked up more accounts and upsells under your belt than anyone else on the team right now. Even Josh,” he said. “In fact, I’m considering you two as my top candidates for the Senior Sales Manager position. Adam’s leaving us for another company next month.”

That compliment surprised you, as well as the potential promotion. You’d heard that Adam Milligan was interviewing with other companies, but you hadn’t known that he was leaving. You blinked, nodding slowly.

“Thank you,” you said. “I appreciate the consideration…and I would look forward to the opportunity to grow in the company.” 

Nick smiled. “Good! And while I believe in you, I just need to know that you’d be willing to do what it takes in this new role.”

That had a subtle alarm trembling up your spine.

“How so?” you asked. “Like you said, I think my margins speak for themselves, along with my ability to manage projects. I think that’ll translate well with managing the team.”

“But you’ve never managed people,” Nick pointed out. He leaned an arm on the back of the couch, his fingers drawing near to your arm. “Tell you what. I want to keep chatting about this, but I’m getting hungry. Why don’t I order some dinner, and we’ll keep pow-wowing.”

“Actually,” you said, leaning away from his hand. “I have plans this evening.”

He raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? What’re you up to?”

You didn’t feel you had to give him any details about your personal life, let alone that you didn’t actually have plans tonight (except for watching The Princess Bride with George. It was your favorite movie to watch together).

“I’m having dinner with my boyfriend,” you answered with a tight smile.

Your womanly pride hated that you had to use Dean as an excuse, but maybe then your boss would get the hint.

Nick’s lips thinned a bit as he leaned back in his seat. “Hmm, didn’t know you had one of those.”

“You met him,” you replied, arching a brow. “He’s a firefighter, remember?”

Nick nodded, though he made a non-committal sound.

“All right, well, I should go actually. He’s picking me up,” you said.

Though when you moved to stand, Nick’s hand wrapped around your wrist. His eyes met yours meaningfully, edged with interest as he eyed you.

“You sure you can’t stick around?” he asked.

His hold was firm enough to scare you, a subtle gasp catching in your throat when your eyes flicked up to his in warning. You instinctively jerked your hand back.

“Don’t touch me,” you said, even as you hated the slight tremor in your voice. “I’m warning you, Nick. I will go to HR. I don’t care how many lawyers you threaten me with. I’m not interested.”

Nick’s head tilted as he watched you with a frown.

“I hope you think hard, sweetheart.” He relaxed against the couch with arrogance, and it was beginning to make you sick. He crossed his arms as you stood and began to storm out of the office. All the while, his words followed you.

“Think about where you want to end up in this company, and who’s gonna get you there.”

You still had work to do, but you weren’t taking any chances. After you made it back to your office, you grabbed your work laptop and left for home. You had to take several calming breaths as you got into your car and turned the key into the ignition, but your hands still shook.

Then the car spluttered, refusing to start. You blinked, tried it again.

Still, the engine struggled and the dashboard shook.

Damn it, damn it! Don’t do this to me, you silently begged. You knew you should’ve had Dean look the old car over weeks ago. He’d offered more than once, but you kept forgetting. You bit your lip.

“Please,” you whispered. You just wanted to get the hell out of here. You glanced up and around the parking lot to make sure it was still empty, that no one was approaching.

After another painfully long moment of puttering, the car finally grumbled to life. A relieved breath rushed out of your body, and you began to peel out of the parking lot. 

I can’t take much more of this, you thought as you drove home.

You also thought about calling Andréa. She still didn’t know all the details about what you were dealing with at the office. In fact, she knew little more than Dean.

And you really wanted to tell Dean. He had a way of calming your nerves and reassuring you when you felt out of sorts…and making you feel safe.

But you also knew how both your best friend and your boyfriend would react. Andréa would force you to go to HR, and then it would undoubtedly get messy. She could even get fired, if Nick was petty about it (and he usually was). You couldn’t afford to lose your job either.

Whereas Dean…

God, he’ll be so pissed, you thought. You had seen just a flash of his jealous side before, with Gordon. And that was one of his friends.

This would be infinitely worse.

Dean was protective. It was literally in his job description, but it was also just who he was as a person, you’d come to find. While you loved that about him, you also couldn’t have him storming your office building to wring Nick’s neck.

You needed your job. And even though you had updated your resume, with how hard you’d been working, you hadn’t had time to start scouring the online job boards…

You blew out a long breath. Your eyes were beginning to burn with frustrated tears. You sniffed and wiped under your eyes in vain.

Damn it, what the hell am I gonna do?

The question burned through your mind over and over, even when you got home. Your grandfather looked up from the show he was watching in the living room when you came in.

“Hey there, stranger,” he said. “Workin’ late?”

“Yeah,” you replied dully. You dumped your purse and workbag on the dining table and continued into the kitchen, not seeing how George frowned.

He slowly got up, wincing and at his aching joints and stifling a wet cough. He paused for a moment as a bout of nausea threatened to bowl him over.

When it passed, after a moment, he straightened. And he followed you into the kitchen, where you were peering into a near empty fridge.

“We barely have anything here,” you said with a sigh. “Okay, guess I’m going to the store. I can pick up something for dinner on the way home.”

“I’ll go with you,” George said. “I’ve been cooped up here all day.”

You shook your head without looking back at him, still making a mental note of everything you needed to buy.

“I heard you coughing. It doesn’t sound like your asthma,” you said, letting out a breath. Add a dash of worry for your grandfather’s health to spruce up your evening.

George sighed.

“Honey,” he tried. You were already shaking your head as you closed the fridge and turned to him with a frown.

“That primary doctor’s an idiot,” you said. “I’m calling your oncologist tomorrow morning.”

 You went to grab your phone to set a reminder for yourself, but George stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“Would you stop?” he barked. “Just stop it!”

You blinked wide, and both literally and figurately, you took a step back. He wasn’t one to raise his voice, even when you were a child. But your earlier frustrations already had you on edge, and frankly, this was the last thing you needed.

“What?” you snapped back. “Clearly you need to see the doctor, and I’m not going to let you dismiss whatever it is you’re hiding and don’t want to tell me about! I’m sick of it.”

“Let me?” he said. “That right there is our problem. I’m not a goddamn kid. Damn well ain’t your kid or your responsibility. And I’m sick of you treating me like I already got one foot in the grave!”

You flinched as if he’d physically hurt you. Your eyes inevitably flooded with tears.

George relented when he saw it. He leaned a hand on the kitchen counter to steady himself.

“Look, hun. I’m 82. Every day, I take a stack of pills that sometimes make me feel worse than the damn cancer did. I got no illusions, and I do appreciate everything you do for me,” he said. “But you’re not my caretaker. You’re not my nurse. You’re my granddaughter.”

He grasped your hand with a warm squeeze. You sniffed and shook your head.

“I understand what you’re saying. And maybe…okay, I know I can be overbearing sometimes. But there’s a reality here that you don’t want to face,” you began. Though it was hard, you met his eyes.

“I’m not just your granddaughter,” you said. “I haven’t been since Grandma died. Because I’ve had to be more. Because you’re the only family I have, and I’ll make that choice every time.”

You let go of his hand and took up your purse, wiping at your eyes.

“But if you really want to come to the store, let’s go,” you said.

George stared back at you at a loss. Deep down, he knew there was a good deal of truth in your words, but he still felt like you weren’t quite hearing him.

Still, he followed you to the car.

You got into the driver’s seat of your Camry and briefly closed your eyes in a silent prayer. Then you turned the key in the ignition. The car turned on, to your surprise and relief.

You started the short drive out of your suburban neighborhood and down to the nearest grocery store. It was only 20 minutes away, and traffic wasn’t bad, but somehow the drive seemed to take an eternity on the two-way street. There was grass and forest on the passenger side, and the rest of the city approaching on the other. 

Unbidden, your mind kept drifting back to this afternoon in Nick’s office. His words were like tendrils of black, oily ink coiling through your mind.

“I hope you think hard, sweetheart.”

Your hand tightened on the steering wheel, your teeth clenching. You could picture his lazy, arrogant smirk as he leaned back into the couch.

“Think about where you want to end up in this company, and who’s gonna get you there.”

You wanted to take one of his precious golf clubs and take a few swings at the man’s head.

“Something wrong with the car?” George asked.

“What?” you asked, flinching in your seat. But you realized then what he was saying. Your car was shaking, like it was about to stall. What the hell?

None of the service lights on the car were on, but this was a warning sign you couldn’t ignore.

George looked up as you approached a curve. “Slow down!”

Your gaze lifted just in time to see how an SUV from the opposite lane of oncoming traffic was drifting too far into your lane, on the curve. You corrected quickly with a jerk of the steering wheel, but your car jolted and stuck on the wheels’ position, and you couldn’t force it straight again.

It sent the car veering off the road and onto the grass, then tumbling down the hill into a sharp decline. You didn’t see the tree until you were feeling the impact of it hitting the front of the car, and nothing more.

You blinked awake, slowly. The side of your face felt numb as you manage to raise it from the airbag. Blood dripped down your nose over your lips, which you only realized after tasting copper on your tongue. You raised a trembling hand to your mouth and wiped some of it away.

Sucking in a breath, you turned your head. Fuck, that hurt.

“Grandpa? …Grandpa!”

George was still unconscious, though he didn’t look like he was bleeding. His airbag thankfully deployed as well. You looked around for your phone…if you remembered right, it had been in your purse. You looked over, and you saw it by his feet.

Though you were held back by your seatbelt and the airbag, and your whole body felt stiff and aching, you reached over and grabbed the purse’s strap. From there you pulled it towards you, with pained grunts, and whimpers, and shallow breaths.

When you were able to fish out your cell, your blood-stained thumb shook while swiping through your contacts.

You knew you should call 911 first, but your instincts took hold. There was only one person you could call. Your eyes began to burn the longer the line rang. By the time it finally connected, the first tears welled up.

“Hey, baby. Good timing,” Dean answered. He sounded tired. “Was just thinking about calling you.”

Your heart had traveled up into your throat to hear his voice. But now, it was hard to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth.

“Dean,” you managed, though your throat became clogged with emotion. Your tears blurred your vision and finally slid down your cheeks.

You tried to push at your seatbelt; it felt like it was cutting your circulation across your chest. But that proved to be a mistake, as the tight fabric just pressed into the bruising you already felt forming against your skin. You couldn’t contain a small whimper.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. His tone was more alert now, changed with the distress he likely heard in your voice.

You took in a shuddering breath as more tears rolled down your face.

“I need help.”

Dean had already been home from the bar when you called. But when he heard your voice, full of pain, your plea for help—it was like a stone dropping into his stomach.

“What happened? Where are you?” he asked. Already he was off the couch and looking for his wallet and keys. Sam was crashing at Eileen’s tonight. Dean would have to call him later. He locked the apartment and hastened down the stairs.

You were eventually able to tell him that your car had swerved after locking up on you. That you’d crashed into a ditch, against a tree.

“Grandpa’s with me. He still hasn’t woken up,” you said through tears. “I can’t move—”

“Don’t!” Dean interrupted, another lance of panic running through him. But he gentled, hearing your soft crying. “Don’t move. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m comin’ to get you. Did you call 911?”

“No…not yet,” you admitted with a sniff.

He nodded to himself. “All right. I’m gonna call this in, make sure they’re on the way.”

“Don’t hang up, please,” you begged.

Dean was torn. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew he needed to get the fire department there as soon as possible.

“I won’t, I promise. Just hold on while I make the call,” he said as he climbed into his car. “I’m going to get the team out to you, okay?”

You sniffled again, but you finally agreed. Dean put you on hold while he called 911. All the while he was driving out of his neighborhood and onto the main road. He gave them his badge number to make sure they knew who he was, and that his girlfriend and her grandfather needed help on 32nd Street and Parker.

After he hung up with the operator, he got back on the line with you and kept you company while he drove. He gave you reassuring words, tried to keep you calm with a few wise cracks to lighten you up. Some of them you seemed to appreciate (others you didn’t).

When he pulled up to the right location, he didn’t see your car at first. That is, until he pulled over to the side of the road. He saw the edge of your bumper just over the slope, and then the rest of your Camry in the ditch. The hood was crumpled like an accordion into a tree, but at least it wasn’t smoking too bad (or on fire).

His heart clenched, but he forced himself to act—with the same fight or flight response he had to overpower with every call he responded to on the job.

Dean climbed out of his car and quickly grabbed the steel Halligan he kept in the trunk. It was essentially a more professional crowbar.

Then he jogged down into the ditch.

He went to the driver’s side first. He saw your tear-streaked face through the window, could hear your muffled voice call his name. He tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Can you unlock it?” he asked.

“I tried earlier,” you said. “It won’t open.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, no problem. Lean back.” 

You obliged him, and once he was sure you were ready, Dean used the Halligan to pry the door open. He could’ve busted open the window, but this was safer.

Once the door was cracked open enough, he pushed it the rest of the way so he could get to you. He punctured through the air bag with the sharp end of the Halligan and pushed it down to deflate it a bit. It allowed you to grab onto his arm, and he reached for you, cupping your cheek and wiping at your tears with his thumb.

“Dean…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said, when you tearfully squeezed his arm. He noticed the drying blood around your nose and stained down your blouse. You were still dressed for work.

“Dean-o, hey,” said George from the passenger side. He was awake, but his eyes were half-lidded.

“Hey, George,” Dean nodded with a smile, to hide his concern. “How’re you doin’ over there?”

“Okay,” George tried, but it ended on a wet cough.

“Check on him. Please,” you asked. Dean nodded, but first, he leaned in a pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a subtle breath of relief. You closed your eyes, and a couple more tears slipped down. You squeezed his hand gratefully.

“Stay put for me,” he said. You hummed in agreement. And by now he could hear the sirens of an ambulance nearby.

Good, he thought, especially when he went over to the passenger side and wrenched the door open. He leaned George back in his seat, away from the airbag, and measured his pulse at his clammy wrist. It was a bit too fast for Dean’s liking.

“I’m good, right?” George asked. He was pale and sweating.  

“That’s right. You’re gonna be hittin’ the roller disco in no time,” Dean said. George smiled in amusement, letting out a huff.

Dean smirked, then gave you a reassuring look. “The paramedic’s coming now. Just keep taking even breaths for me.”

A couple of minutes later, two paramedics came with a board and a neck brace to carry someone out. Dean recognized them from the shift opposite to his: Ed and Harry. They were a couple of chuckle brothers, but they did their job well. Dean instructed them to get George out first, and he helped them do it.

“We’re going to get to you next, ma’am,” Ed told you.

“Is he okay?” you asked. Worry for your grandfather was steeped in your watery eyes.

“They’re taking him up to the ambulance now. Another one’s coming for you,” Dean said. He was on his way back over to your side of the car, but he hurried when he saw you trying to get out. Apparently you’d managed to unclip your seatbelt when he wasn’t looking.

“Whoa, hey! What’re you doing?” Dean said. You gave him a small heart attack when you nearly fell out of the car on your shaky legs. He guided you back to sit, but you were adamant about getting out.

“I don’t want to wait,” you said sternly, though the effect was hampered by the way your voice also trembled.

“Okay, okay. I gotcha,” Dean nodded, but he urged you to let him help. He was careful in how he slipped his arms behind your back and under your knees. “Any sharp pain? In your neck, anywhere else?”

Truthfully, your neck did hurt. But it wasn’t that bad, you reasoned. The rest was just aches and bruises you were sure you would have later. You rested against his chest.

“I’m okay,” you said. Your arm curled around his shoulder while your free hand laid against his chest. “Thank you.”

Dean sighed and pressed another kiss to your hair, and then your forehead before he made his way up the slope with you in his arms. Once he got back onto the road, he spoke to Donna Hanscum, the police officer who’d arrived at the scene. She worked in the same precinct as his father and Jody.

You briefly explained what happened to cause the crash—the SUV drifting and your car locking up out of your control. Donna took notes all the while. Dean then let her know that he was taking you to the hospital.

“She really should wait for the ambulance,” Donna said, though her eyes were kind, taking in your tear-streaked face and the way you clung to Dean. She might have to visit you later for a more detailed statement, but she knew an honest mistake when she saw one.

“Eh, I’m saving them a trip,” Dean said. “That’s gas and labor cuttin’ costs right there.”

Donna shook her head, despite a smile.

“All right, Dean. Just go.” She gave you one last look of sympathy. “Feel better, hun. Looks like you’re in good hands.”

You nodded with a small smile. Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes and relaxed against Dean.

Dean stayed with you in the Emergency Department while a nurse cleaned the blood from your face, took your vitals, and tested your vision and hearing.

Your blood pressure was high, but that was to be expected. All else fell into the realm of normal, considering. Though when the nurse checked your neck, you grimaced a little when she slowly turned your head from side to side.

“Hmm. Scale of 1 to 10 on the pain?” she asked.

You glanced at Dean, who raised his brows at you expectantly. That look said, Tell the truth.

“I don’t know…4,” you replied.

The nurse gave you a knowing glance. “You can be honest. Is it a 4, or more like a 6?”

You bit your lip. “Okay, a 5.”

“All right. That’s understandable,” she said. The nurse then grabbed a brace to set around your neck. “The doctor will be in shortly to check you out, but likely she’ll prescribe you something short-term for the pain.”

You sighed in annoyance. “How long will that take? I need to see my grandfather.”

“Want me to check on him again?” Dean asked. Now that the nurse was done, he came over to where you were sitting on the edge of the examining bed to rest a hand on your back.

He’d made sure George was stable and comfortable in his own room. The ED doctor had ordered blood tests, among other things, since he was a former cancer patient. But also because he had a fever and an elevated blood pressure that didn’t seem to just be related to the crash. He was now sleeping while the hospital ran the rest of their tests.

You turned to Dean with red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes. “I want to see him.” 

Dean slipped an arm around you and tucked you against him more securely.

“You will, sweetheart. You just need to get checked out first,” he said. He was worried about you. You seemed all right, but he didn’t like your tendency to forget about yourself. Sometimes, you were a bit too much like him.

You sighed in defeat (for now). But after a moment, your small voice broke through the quiet.

“I should’ve let you look at the car,” you said.

Dean glanced down at you and caught the guilt written across your face. His brows knit together as his heart clenched again.

“Don’t do that,” he said with a sigh. “It’s not your fault.”

“My car, my goddamn fault,” you said through tears.

“Stop, baby,” Dean said. He held you closer, laying a kiss on the top of your head while you tried to stifle your tears.

He waited with you until the doctor finally arrived to examine you. She spotted the same things as the nurse, and prescribed you an anti-inflammatory pain killer, as well as rest. And of course, if your pain worsened, you were to come back to the ED.

After the doctor left, Dean agreed to walk you down to your grandfather’s hospital room. George was awake, though he seemed groggy with the pain medication they had him on through the IV. He greeted you and Dean with an attempt at a smile.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. His hand turned over to welcome yours, and he squeezed, seeing the tears in your eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, sniffling. “I’m good. How’re you feeling?”

Your gaze drifted to his chart, to the medications and fluids they had him on, what tests were listed…

George’s hand tugged on yours, pulling your attention back to him.

“They’ve got it in hand. Don’t you worry about me,” he said.

You flickered at a smile, as you both knew that wasn’t in the cards. In fact, you’d barely been sitting down on the edge of his bed for a couple of minutes before you were asking if the recline of his bed was comfortable. If he needed more water, or another blanket.

George responded negatively to most of your questions, though he shot Dean an imploring look over your head. The other man nodded and gently grasped your shoulders.

Dean could see why you were blustering around—so you wouldn’t crack from anxiety and exhaustion. But he needed to stop you before you hurt yourself. (Not to mention, before you drove George crazy.)

“Hey, come ‘ere a sec,” said Dean. He guided you into a nearby chair and soothed a hand over your hair. He kneeled down next to you and grabbed your hand. You let out a breath and held onto him back. 

“You need to take it easy, okay? Need to,” Dean said, in a quiet but firm tone he didn’t often use with you. He reached for the slip of paper the doctor gave you, now stuffed in your purse. “Everything’s gonna get taken care of. You just relax here, and I’m going to go fill out your prescription.”

Dean waited for you to meet his eyes; he was only satisfied when you nodded in acceptance. He gave you a smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. It was comfort and relief, for both of you.

You held him there for a moment with a hand on his cheek. Your fingers traced across his brow, and down his jawline. If it were even possible, after everything he’d done today, you were never more grateful for him than in this moment.

George watched the little scene from his bed with a soft smile.

Finally, he thought. And it meant many things.

After Dean reluctantly pulled away, he promised he’d be back soon. He then left to take your prescription to the closest pharmacy, also fishing out his phone to call Sam and let him know what was going on at the hospital.

Dean had a feeling you all were going to be here for a while.

AN: *exhales* Okay. 😅 A lot going on in this chapter. Another piece of the puzzle, more of why Nick needs his ass handed to him, and a dramatic save. Let me know what you thought!

And please forgive me for where we're going next...

Next Time:

Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

Keep Reading: PART 11

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#Toil and Trouble #Smoke Eater #Part 10 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #Castiel #Sam winchester #spn #supernatural #zepskies writes

[deanwinchestersbabygirll]

Last Christmas

-warnings// a little angst, lots of fluff, mention of slicing and finger nail removal

-lil summery// basically based in season 3 episode 8 just with our favourite character... Y/N!

Dean x reader

word count// 6960

(gif from pinterest)

"You didn't see anything at all ma'am, any flickering lights?" You asked the scared women "what would flickering lights have to do with my missing husband?!" Mrs Walsh asked frustrated "what we mean Mrs Walsh is that any detail you can recall even something as small as the lights flickering or even a strange  or unsettling smell could help us find out What exactly happened to your husband" dean swooped in behind you 

Mrs Walsh sighed sadly as she tried to go over the night "I'm sorry I don't remember anything other than my husband being dragged from bed, whoever took him knocked me out- I just I don't know what I'm gonna tell my kids I mean come on Christmas is right around the corner and they have to spend it without their dad?" She cried as her sobs shook her body

You pulled her to the side slightly to calm her "Mrs Walsh I assure you that we'll do everything we can to find out what happened to your husband, I'm so sorry this happened to you and your family" you said handing the weeping women a tissue "thank you agent page" she smiled and headed back into her home.

"Alright so doesn't seem like it was a demon, you guys have any ideas?" You asked the boys on the way to the motel "I'm not sure but I found a tooth  in the chimney so it seems that's where Mr Walsh was taken out from,  I'll start researching when we get back" Sam replied

The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence as you took in the scenery of Michigan in December, all the decorations surrounding the town of Ypsilanti.

"Alright I've looked through everything and I keep coming back to same idea" sam said "great what have you got?" You asked sitting next to him on the dingy couch "it's gonna sound crazy but-" Sam was cut off by deans loud laugh "Sammy, what do you think you could possibly say that would sound crazy to us?" You chuckled as Sam sighed a smile curling on his lips "alright… Evil Santa" 

"...alright ya got me, that's crazy" dean crossed his arms across his chest as he leaned against the wall "i don't know Dean, we hunt some crazy shit" you said turning to look at the older Winchester, he smirked moving toward the couch, taking a seat next to you and pulling you into him "I guess your right sweetheart, alright Sammy tell me what your thinking" 

You laid your head to rest on your boyfriends hard chest as you listened to Sam ramble on about his theory of krampus, Dean ran his rough hands up and down your side and pulled you closer so you were sat on his lap rather than the two small for you and two oversized Winchester men 

You felt yourself gently drifting off to the sound of deans heartbeat and the distant sound of his gruff voice "well I'm just saying what the lore says..." Sam defended as dean shut down the idea of evil Santa "dude Santa doesn't have a brother... there is no Santa" he said his hand coming to rest on the top of your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles on the warm exposed skin of your hip

"I seen a little Santa village on the way here, it's not that far why don't we go and scope it out" you sleepily suggest "good idea let's head out" Sam said moving to get up you sighed out a huff as you pulled from the warm embrace of your boyfriend, Dean wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you headed to baby "your in the back Sammy" he said as the younger Winchester went to open the passenger door, Sam sighed as you giggled jumping in and moving to sit next to dean as he pulled you close to his side, the comforting smell of pine and gunfire engulfed you immediately as the impala purred to life.

You and the boys walked through a very.. . Questionable looking Santa's village "this place sucks I thought it would have been more fun looking based on the town's decorations" you said as you looked around the crappy 'north pole' "yeah kinda makes the 'anti-Claus' theory sound more realistic doesn't it" Sam replied 

Dean clapped his hands together happily as turned to you and his brother "hey speaking of Christmas, we should have one this year" he said and you felt your body go rigged, you've been with  Dean for over 2 years and not once in those two years did he express a want to celebrate the holiday other than a few small gifts. You knew he wanted to do this because it would be his last Christmas he gets to spend you and Sam and it's tearing you apart knowing each day gets closer and closer to the end of deans year

Swallowing hard as you felt your throat grow extremely dry, before you can say anything Sam's scoffing "yeah no I'm good" Sam says and Dean continues to push "oh come on, we'll even get a little tree for the room and we can decorate it and then we can get a nice take out for dinner" "honestly I'm not really up for it either Dean" you confessed, finally gaining your voice back 

He looks at you a slight gleam of hurt on his face flashes "come on baby, it'll be fun, we can even watch home alone, I know how much you love that movie" dean said his eyes practically begging you to say yes, you give him a forced smile as you knew you had to cave, you wanted to remember these things with a happy memory with dean, even if right now your heart was breaking into a thousand pieces  "see Sammy, Y/N's in its two against one" Dean said as he wrapped his arm tightly around your waist, Sam turned his head toward you both and with a shrug of his broad shoulders "you guys do what you want I'm not doing it" he said and stalked away, "what a grinch" Dean whispered in your ear.

"You would think with how expensive this crap was to get in they'd have put on a better show" dean grumbled out as you all seen the disappointment on the kids in lines faces "I know... almost feels like our Santa here really is the anti Santa" you told him and dean nodded while Sam seemed to be in a daze. 

It was a few hours later and you and the boys were in the impala outside 'Santa's trailer waiting for him to make his move. You sat in the front next to Dean as Sam was fast asleep in the back, you'd hardly said a word to him as you stared out the window, head leaning against the cool glass as you felt his green eyes burning holes on the side of your head "everything okay?" Dean asked his voice low as to not alert his sleeping brother 

"Yeah I'm fine, just thinking..." you replied not looking at him "what are you thinking about sweetheart?" He asked gently grabbing your hand small hand in his much bigger one "just stuff, nothing to worry about honey" you told him leaning forward to give his plump lips a quick kiss in hopes to ease his worry, Dean would let it go for now but he was still worried about how different you were acting.

You started to drift off once again that day until you were startled by Sam's loud yawn " hey what time is it?" He asked stretching his longs limbs "it's one in the morning, haven't seen anything suspicious yet" dean replied his eyes fixated on the trailer door, just as he finished his sentence the 'Santa' was at the window looking around the quiet parking lot before shutting his curtains in a rush "alright it's show time!" you said jumping out of the car 

Dean ran to get to the trailer door infront of you always wanting to protect you from the darkness of the job in whatever way he can, Dean kicks the door open and the three of you have your guns drawn and aimed at the santa

"...roast my chestnut, egg my nogg" 

The tv played on in the backround as the 'Santa jumped to his feet his bong hitting couch in his hurry

You and the boys shared looks of shock before rushing to hide your guns "Silent night..." dean started off awkwardly and you and Sam quickly joined in "holy night, all is dry..." you grabbed both boys by their jackets and pushed them to the door before rushing into the car, Dean taking off quickly from the embarrassing situation.

The next morning you woke to deans arm being wrapped tightly around your waist as your head lay on his chest, your leg thrown over his hips, you tried to pull away gently as to not wake him, your small movements proved enough to wake the sleeping hunter as he gently opened his green eyes "where you going sweetheart?" He asked his voice deep and raspy from just waking up  "I'm starving so I was gonna go get us some breakfast and coffee" he hummed and pulled you back down to him "ten more minutes then we'll go" dean said kissing the top of your head

"Guys come on we gotta go there's been another attack" Sam announced as he came back into the room, Dean sighed dramatically "I'm going to end the son of a bitch for messing with my sleep" dean threatened making you giggle "alright let's get going we'll stop for something quick then go talk to the vics" you said leaning down to give your boyfriend a quick kiss to the lips before rushing to get dressed.

You sat in the back of the impala drinking your coffee as Dean drove to the Caldwells, you couldn't help but feel your heart sink deeper with each passing day as you stared at your boyfriend through the rear view mirror, Dean was already catching your eyes sending a worried smile your way at the look of your tear filled eyes that you refused to let fall, he raised his brows as to silently ask if you were okay and you nodded quickly changing your gaze to the window as the blur of Christmas decorations blurred with deans speed.

" so ma'am your son explained to you that he saw Santa take his dad up the chimney?" You questioned the sorrow filled women, she nodded holding her arms close to her body in defence motion "that’s what he told me, yes" she replied 

"And where we're you Mrs Caldwell?" Dean asked and the women gave him a strange look of confusion "I was asleep and then all of a sudden I was being dragged from my bed and then i was knocked out, It just happened so fast" she cried

You placed your hand on her arm and smiled in understanding "I understand how hard this must be Mrs Caldwell, I could never imagine the pain and confusion your feeling right now, do you need to take a little break from the questions?" You asked her and she shook her head "no I'm alright thank you detective, I just want this to all be over with so my husband is found and brought home safely to us" she smiled sadly

"Did you happen to see anything of the attacker, maybe hair colour,  height, anything strange?" Dean asked and she shook her head instantly "no I didn't see anything it was so dark and it was just a blur" 

Sam looked around as you and Dean continued to talk to her "yeah so Mrs Caldwell, do you remember where you got that wreath?" Sam asked and the women grew angry as you and Dean sent him looks of question "excuse me!" She demanded "it's just its very pretty" sam stuttered out "I don't give a rats behind about that wreath, I care about my missing husband so if we can stop with the questions and we can get on with finding him so my kids don't have to spend Christmas without their father, that would be greatly appreciated detective!" Sam nodded  "of course mrs Caldwell" 

"Of all the things to ask a grieving wife and mother, you ask about her Christmas wreath?please tell me you have a good theory that will make me forget how horrible that experience was" You asked Sam as you walked towards baby "think about it, that's not the first time we've seen that wreath here" Sam replied, "where?" Dean asked Sam intrigued "the Walshes!" You said quickly and Sam nodded "I don't think that's a coincidence considering the similarities".

Once you got back to the motel Sam quickly got on the phone with Bobby, "hey can we talk?" Dean asked grabbing your hand, you nodded and let him lead you to outside "is everything okay, since we got here you've been a little off, just like you're  shutting down" dean asked his eyes full of concern, you sighed and looked at the ground "I'm okay I'm just tired and can't wait to get this case over with" you lied but your lie detector of a boyfriend didn't buy it for a second "Y/N come on I wasn't born yesterday-" "no but your gonna be dead in a few months, then what?" You cut him off, feeling the lump in your chest grow bigger as your eyes stung with tears 

"Sweetheart I know your upset, believe me if there was any other way to bring Sammy back I would have done it, I love you more than anything and I promise I won't stop looking for a way out of this stupid deal" dean told you wiping the small tear that escaped down your check "it's just so hard knowing our time with you is limited, this is gonna be our last Christmas we can spend together, I just I- I don't know what I'm gonna do without you" you said fully breaking down at this point

Dean pulled you tightly to his chest, hugging you as you cried "I know it sucks baby, I know we never really did anything for Christmas before that's why I wanted to make this a good one so it could be thought back on as a happy memory of us three together" dean confessed as his own voice broke slightly "if I can't get out of this deal, I need you to promise me something... I want you to get out of this life, I want you to move on find someone that makes you happy, I want you to get married and have kids, I want you to have the apple pie life sweetheart because you deserve to be happy" dean said and you pulled back from his tight embrace to look at him, seeing he had a few tears of his own running down his checks

"Dean I can't, I could never be happy with any one other than you, you're the love of my life" you told him, he gave you sad smile "your the love of my life too sweetheart which is why I need to know your gonna be okay if I'm gone, please just promise me this... please" he begged, you nodded knowing you would never follow through, you would never love any one after Dean "I promise".

Dean and you stayed in that position for a while longer while you calmed yourselves before facing Sam "you ready?" Dean asked kissing your forehead, "yeah" you said your eyes feeling puffy and your voice sounding hoarse "I got Bobby, I was right he’s heard of it before, he said it's likely meadowsweet in the wreaths" Sam said looking up from his laptop, "what's wrong?" Sam asked when he seen your sad face "nothing Sammy it'll be alright" you told him, he turned his gaze to dean who's eyes remained on you "alright we'll talk about this later then.." Sam trailed off 

"So what's Bobby saying" you asked taking a seat on the couch  trying to get the focus of you "well other than calling us all morons, he told me the meadowsweet was used in pagan lore, mostly in their rituals" you and Dean shared a confused look "pagan lore, and what kind of rituals?" Dean asked taking his seat next to you 

"Well based on the research, meadowsweet was used like bait for their human sacrifices and the pagan gods would come basically chow down on the closest human" Sam said and your face twisted in disgust "Jesus what are we dealing with here" you said in disbelief "yeah it's pretty nasty stuff, when these family's have been putting the wreaths up it's basically an invitation for them to be killed and eaten" Sam told you "alright so how to do we stop it" dean asked his own face showing discomfort 

"I don't know" Sam told him and Deans eyes widen "Bobby working on a way to figure it out, until then, we're gonna find it" Sam said and you both nodded "alright our first step is to find out who's selling the wreaths... do you think they know what what they're selling?" You said  both boys shrugging their shoulders "I have no idea, I hope not" Dean said, Sam exhales loudly before clapping his hands "well let's go find out" 

Once you were in the parking lot Dean was wrapping his arm around your shoulders tucking you tightly into his side and throwing Sam baby's keys "your driving" Sam tilted his head in confusion before giving Dean a hard look "you are not making me drive so you two can make out in the back seat again!" Sam said quickly, Dean huffed "we're not gonna make out..." he trailed off looking at you shaking your head no "alright we're definitely not gonna make out while you drive...again" dean promised with a laugh before pulling you into the back seat with him and bringing you back to his side "step on it Sammy, we've got a monster to find" dean announced before the impala roared to life and Sam was tearing down the street. 

"Alright this place sells Christmas decorations let's try in here" you told the boys and walked in taking a look around "hi, can I help you folks?" the man at the counter asked "yeah I hope so, we were at the Walshes the other night for couples game night, and I couldn't keep my eyes off their Christmas wreath, it was beautiful and we were really hoping we could get one before Christmas, right honey?" You said a fake smile plastered on your face as you looked to dean "yeah that's right sweetheart, any chance you've got any of them left" dean continued your lie

The man looked confused "I'm sorry I see a lot of wreaths every day, could you be more specific?" You nodded "yeah, it was the most beautiful wreath, it had these green leaves and they had little white buds all over it" the man looked taken back "well aren't you a fussy one" the man said sarcastically , Dean gave the man a hard stare and went to tell him off before you cut him off "yeah I can be, just want the perfect wreath for our first christmas together in our new home" the man nodded and sighed "well it just so happens I know what wreath your talking about, they flew off my shelves in one day, every one loved them so I'm all out actually" sam gave the man a questioning look "the meadowsweet is actually pretty expensive why would you make wreaths out of it?" The man shrugged his shoulders "not a clue, I didn't make em" the man said in his gruff voice "oh really? Who did make them?" You asked him

The man turned to face you " it was Madge Carrigan, nice local lady, she told me these wreaths were so darn a special she was giving them to me, no charge" Dean chuckled knowingly "did you sell them for free too?" The man had a shocked look on his face "hell no, it's Christmas, people would spend money on damn near anything for any price if you slap Christmas in front of it!" The man said loudly looking at dean like he had three heads "that's the Christmas spirit, thanks for your time" you said grabbing Deans hand leading him toward the exit.

Later that night at the motel Dean and Sam were cleaning their  guns while you were in the shower "so what was going on earlier, you guys seemed pretty upset" Sam asked and Dean sighed "it's nothing Sammy we just had a little talk everything's fine" dean told him not wanting to talk about it "Dean come on man, you can talk to me, I'm your brother you don't have to hide anything from me" Sam said wanting Dean to talk "look Y/N was just upset about how much time I have left and when I kept pushing the Christmas thing it just made her feel worse so can we just not talk about it around her" dean said noting the sound of the shower turning off "yeah got it i won't mention it again" Sam said sadly, "alright, you boys ready" you asked coming out of the bathroom a little while later, both boys nodded.

"Alright I think this is the house" sam said "wow can't you just feel the evil" dean joked as he took in the many decorations surrounding the house, you and Sam rolled your eyes as you knocked on the door, a few seconds later a very jolly women opened the door "can I help you?" She asked "please tell me your Madge Carrigan? The genius who made the meadowsweet wreaths?" Dean asked, the women grew a big smile " why yes, that was me, they were most beautiful wreaths weren't they?" She said excitement oozing out of her "they were just beautiful, this one right here seen one the other day, and just hasn’t  stopped talking about it, ain't that right Sammy" Dean said pointing to his giant brother "... oh yeah, totally we were in the store the other day and seen them and they sold out just before we could get our hands on one" Sam told her feigning disappointment 

The women grew a sad look "oh fudge, that's horrible they are just the most sweet smelling wreaths!" She said you nodded your head "they were, we were so disappointed we couldn't get one ourselves, say, you wouldn't have any spares we could buy?" You asked and she kept her sad expression "oh I'm sorry dear, those were the only ones I had for this season, gosh I wish I could give you one!" She said and you held back a snarky 'yeah so you could eat us right up' remark "Mrs Carrigan. may I ask why did you choose to use meadowsweet in your wreaths?" You asked and a man came down in a cheerful sweater with an old fashioned pipe between his lips as she answered "why the smell of course, it's it just the sweetest smell dear?" She asked her husband 

"Oh it is! You haven't smelt anything sweeter than those Christmas wreaths!" The man said with a loud chuckle "definitely not sir" you faked a laugh with them "say would any of you folk care for some peanut brittle?" The man asked handing  the tub of candy out, you saw deans hand reaching for and quickly slapped it away "oh no thanks we're just on our way to dinner, don't want to ruin our appetites, anyway thank you for your time Mr and Mrs Carrigan, hopefully we snag a wreath next year" you say pulling both boys away "oh you will I save one specially for alll of you" Mrs Carrigan laughed as they closed the door, "well that was... disturbing" you said and both boys agreed before Sam was driving back to the motel.

Dean and you were sat on the motel bed sharpening wooden stakes to take out the evil pagans "you find anything yet sweetie?" You asked tossing and other finished stake to your pile before staring another "yeah, so get this, turns out Mr and Mrs jolly lived in Seattle last year, and right around Christmas time, there was a few abductions that took place, sounds identical to what's happening right now. And Bobby's sure that the evergreen stakes will kill them?" Sam asked  before shutting his laptop down, "Oh he's sure, so get helping big guy" dean said throwing Sam a stake to carve. 

It was nine o clock when you the boys were breaking into the empty house "hey look, the furniture still has the wrapping over it, they're obviously planning on ditching town as soon as possible" you said pointing your flashlight at the couch "that's creepy as hell" Dean said as you all made your way to the kitchen "hey guys over here!" Sam whispered loudly, you both went back over to find an unlocked door "must be the basement, let's check it out boys" you told them both as Sam lead the way down the basement, Dean walking behind you, both boys always being protective no matter what

"Oh my god that's disgusting" you said your flashlight pointed to 'santas sack' full of bones and body parts, the bag dripping blood "this places looks more like a butcher's than a freaking basement!" Dean as you took in the sight of blood and bones across the room, "I think there's someone in there!" Sam said worried as he saw the other sack moving, you all rushed to open it but you were grabbed from behind you screamed as the attacker lifted you off your feet 

"Y/N!" Dean yelled and rushed toward you Sam close behind his stake at the ready, you were slammed against the wall, Mrs Carrigan’s crazy  eyes meeting ours "it's very rude to break into people's home now isn't it" she sneered her hand tightening it's grip around your throat cutting off the air from your lungs blurring your vision “get your hands off her or I swear I'll blow your fucking brains out!" dean yelled his gun pointed at the women, Sam moving to sneak behind her with his stake raised before he was whacked in the back of the head, Mr Carrigan coming into view  "now, now it was awfully silly for you all to go snooping where you don't belong wasn't it" the man said slapping deans gun from his hand with unnatural strength "the hel-" dean started but was knocked out with a blow to the head by Madge. 

You stirred awake and looked around finding Dean sat in front of you tied to a chair, his head slumped to the side as he was out "Dean! Wake up" you called for him and heard shuffling from behind him "Y/N! Are you okay?" Sam asked worried "yeah I think so" you rasped out you throat feeling sore "what's going- Y/N! Sammy!" Dean moved quickly to start rushing to break out from the confinements of the ropes "looks like we're dealing with two pagan gods rather than one" Sam said 

"Oh look dear they're awake, goodness we thought you were gonna sleep right through the night" Madge said chuckling as she walked behind her husband "and what? sleep through the party? No chance" dean replied sarcastically "oh he's a funny man then. No boy, see what you lot are, is hunters!" Mr Carrigan  said looking  at all of us in disgust "yeah, and you're  pagan gods so how about we just forget about this and we go our separate ways" dean said and the Cardigans both shook their heads right away "not a chance, you would just go and call all your hunting friends, no your not walking out of here alive" Madge said cheerfully as she pulled out a knife and bowl 

"Guess you should have thought about that before you started eating people!" You demanded "oh don't be like that, we have pulled back from how much we used to eat, we used to take hundreds in a year, and now we only take what two or three?" She turned to her husband "well the three stooges here makes six dear" Mr Carrigan said as he walked to stand next to his wife "now that's not so bad is it, from hundreds to six people a year!" Madge said exasperated "oh well, when you say it like that... it's still horrible, your still monsters!" You said annoyed "you should be showing us some respect, your fate does lie in our hands now doesn't it, hunter" Mr Carrigan sneered at you in a threatening manner

"You touch a damn hair on her head and I swear I'll rip you limb from god damn limb" Dean threatened pulling at his restraints once again "well we're not the ones tied up now are we? so you ought to watch yourself" Mr Carrigan was in deans face as if to intimidate him "or what, your gonna eat us?" Madge perked up with a bright smile on her face "oh no, that comes later first we need to do the rituals" she announced clapping her hands together in excitement 

"Oh we do love a good ritual don't we Madge" the women nodded excitedly "nothing better than a gold ole ritual to get you in the Christmas spirit! We just need some-" "meadowsweet?" Dean questioned, Madge nodded excitedly "oh darn, your all out of your... special meadowsweet wreaths, guess we'll just have to cancel the whole ritual" you rushed out looking at dean who was already looking at you with a worried glint in his eye 

"Oh don't you worry dear, we have some special meadowsweet saved for such occasions!" Madge told you as she put wreaths around your necks "see now don't they look so, oh what's a good word... sweet" Madge said with a devious smile "sweet enough to eat!" Mr Carrigan said as he walked towards you with the knife and bowl "the hell are you doing! Get the fuck away from her" Dean yelled thrashing around in his restraints, Sam trifling against his own to help 

"We're starting with the loud mouth" Mr Carrigan said as he dragged the knife down you arm causing you to scream "Y/N!" "Get off her, I swear I'm gonna kill you, you fucking sons of bitches!" The boys both yelling

You felt slightly dizzy form the blood loss, but you've been hurt far worse than this so your able to stay awake "Can you believe how they talk to us Madge? We're gods! They should be bowing down to us and thanking us for this, it's an honour for you!" Mr Carrigan  said angrily leaning down to Sam "d-don't" Sam started before he yelled out in pain "Sammy!" You and dean yelled

 "you okay?" Dean questioned noticing your face screwed up in pain, don't worry about me I've been hurt worse than this" Madge came and stood before dean "now ya won't feel a pinch dear " she said before slicing down his arm Dean groaned in pain "you fucking bitch!" You screamed thrashing your legs trying to break them from their binds in order to lick the pagan god "oh watch your language in my house! She turned to you "when I really want to say bad words, ya know what I say… 'fudge' it's much nicer to say!" She said and you rolled your eyes "oh I'll try and fudging remember that!" You said exhausted with these peoples act 

"Where are the pliers Madge?" Mr Carrigan asked shuffling through the cupboards "third drawer dear" Madge replied as she placed the bowl of your mixed blood ok the kitchen counter "Ah delightful! I think we'll start with you" and Carrigan said as he came to stand in front of Sam "the hell are you gonna do to me!" Sam demanded, neither of them answered him as they started pulling his nail away, Sam yelled in pain as you and Dean yelled for them to stop "Get off him you fudging lunatics!" Dean yelled still trying to get out of his restraints "oh very good!" Madge said proudly to dean as she plopped  Sam's finger nail in the bloody bowl,

"Your turn" Mr Carrigan said as he looked at you with a sick smile "no- no please.." your begs were muffled as he put the pliers in your mouth and went to pull a tooth out "stop it!" Dean yelled 

Just as the evil pagan was about to rip your tooth out the doorbell rang, they shared a look of frustration before they stopped what they were doing and went to answer the door, leaving you and the boys alone 

“Alright we don’t have much time” Sam said before he was able to wiggle his arm from the restraint and grabbing the blood covered knife from the counter and cutting the rest of his ropes “how the hell did you get out of them” dean whisper yelled as Sam undid his restraints “he hit the rope on my wrist when he was cutting my arm, I just needed them to be distracted” Sam informed you both, as soon as deans restraints were done he was taking the knife from Sam and kneeling in front  of you “how you feeling baby?” He asked making you smile “I’m fine, let’s kill these bastards!” 

“We do apologise for that interruption, now let’s get back to the…” she trailed off turning to her her husband who matched her hard look before hearing a loud bang “careful you nearly took my hand off Dean!” They heard a male voice say from outside the door 

“Dude our evergreen stakes! They’re in the basement” dean said worried knowing the cupboard wouldn’t hold forever when he heard the yells and bangs from the kitchen as Mr and Mrs crazy tried to break free  “yeah I think I’ve got that figured out” you told them as they turned to see what you were staring at… the Christmas tree “god baby your a genius!” Dean said and walked towards the big tree, he started breaking the branches off, just as you each got your own weapons the cupboard snapped and the Carrigans were stood breathing heavy with red angry faces at the doorway

“Oh you rude little… I loved that tree!” She screamed as she rushed attack Dean, you punched her before she could get to him, she turned to give you a sinister smile as she spit a bit of to the floor, she tried to grab you by your neck once more but you were faster, riling to the side so the women stumbled, you heard a groan from beside you that causing your attention, seeing Mr Carrigan on top on dean was enough to distract you, giving the evil pagan the upper hand as she gripped you neck tightly, you scratched at her hands to get her off

As soon as it started it was over,her grip on your neck loosened as the women grew limp, you looked down to see the tree branch through her chest as you coughed uncontrollably , Sam was behind her shoving it in deeper “MADGE NO!” Mr Carrigan yelled, Dean stuck him with his own branch before shoving the limp body to the side and getting up “you two okay?” Dean asked rushing over, “I’m okay, bound to have a sore throat all next week considering lil ole Madge there seemed pretty into choking” you joked causing both boys to laugh “alright we better clean this crap up” Sam said already making his way toward the Carrigans body’s.

Dean had dropped Sam off at the motel while you two went to go grab some take out for Christmas dinner “this was a pretty nasty hunt wasn’t it” dean said and you turned to smile at him  “yeah it was, who’d have thought we’d find evil pagan gods” you joked and turned back to look at the open road, noticing dean slowing baby up and pulling into a dirt road

He turned to face you “hey, so I know you don’t want to do Christmas, and I get it, trust me I do, but I-” he stopped to take a deep breath before continuing “I got you this a while ago and was just finding the right time to give it to you, and now seems as good as any..” Dean confessed, reaching into his pocket to pull out a ring box revealing a beautiful diamond ring “dean?” You questioned tears in your eyes 

“I’m not proposing, we’ll i mean I kind of am, if I wasn’t in this deal sweetheart, I’d be on knee begging you to marry my ass but I don’t want to do that knowing there’s a chance I might not live to marry you, so I’m making a promise, a promise that if by some miracle I get out of this, you and me are getting married, we’ll do the whole nine yards because you deserve nothing better so my question is will you accept my promise?”” dean asked his voice shaky and full of fear as you had tears streaming down your face

You nodded and let out a teary laugh “yeah, I accept your promise Dean” you cried leaning forward to give him a wet kiss on the lips, you pulled apart when it became too hard to kiss because the two of you were smiling so hard “I love you so much sweetheart” he confessed leaning his forehead against yours “I love you too Dean”.

You and dean drive back to the motel after s few pit stops for food and gas, not being able to wipe the smile from your faces, not being able to stop admiring the small but beautiful diamond placed on your ring finger. 

You both walked into the the motel room hand in hand with burgers and fries in a bag, hearing jingle bells play softly in the background and Sam stood smiling at you both, you took in the room and noticed the little Christmas tree sat on the table and the eggnog “Sammy?” Dean questioned his smile growing bigger “what’s all this then?” Sam gave him an obvious look “it’s Christmas, well our Christmas” Sam replied handing you both a cup of eggnog

“Well let’s sit down get eating” Dean said as you all took a seat at the small motel couch “hey what’s that” Sam asked spotting the sparkle in you hand “we’ll we kinda got engaged, well a promise engagement” you told him showing the ring off to the younger Winchester who was smiling at you both “that’s amazing you guys!” He congratulated making you smile 

“I got you both something” Sam confessed pulling out two presents wrapped up in news paper “you didn’t have to do that Sammy” you said with a smile, “I got you something too” dean told him pulling out the presents you two both purchased, “oh wait don’t open anything! I have your presents in my bag” you said quickly running to your duffle and pulling out two cutely wrapped boxes “sweetheart when did you get these? I thought you were against CHRISTMAS at first?” Dean questioned when you handed him his present 

“I was against celebrating… under these circumstances but I always love presents” you told him sitting down once more you all opened you gifts, Sam had gotten you your favourite bottle of vodka, Dean had gotten Sam porno mags to which the younger hunter lit up at “no more pay per view for a while now” you joked, he also got him a bottle of shaving cream, knowing he ran out that morning… because he’d finished it off, Sam got Dean a bottle of oil for Dean and his favourite candy bar “hey, you knew just what I wanted man” dean told him opening up the candy bar 

The boys the  opened your gifts “Y/N, thank you I love it” Sam said moving to give you a hug after  he opened the box of his favourite cologne “no problem sweetie, I know how much you love that stuff 

Dean was next opening up his present “hey that’s awesome, a new gun to add to the collection” dean said excited looking at the silver pistol “hey it’s got my initials!” Thank you sweetheart, I love it” dean told you pulling you into a deep kiss.

You and the boys were all sat on the couch, you on deans lap cuddling into him as home alone played in the back ground, but you couldn’t really focus too much on the movie, only the man who was currently snoozing with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, thinking of every possible way to save him from his  fate, praying to anyone to save your boyfriend, for now you had to wait and just hope for the best, hope that your boyfriend wouldn’t be ripped to shreds by hell hounds, hope that someone, anyone could save him. For right now you were gonna relish in the feeling of his strong arms around you, of the feeling of his heartbeat, the sounds of his voice because deep down you knew, he couldn’t be saved from this, you just had to cherish the little time left with him. 

______________________________________________________________

hi, its been a minute, currently rushing through ideas and trying to write for Sam and Cas but every idea just so happens to accidently turn into a Dean imagine (im sorry sam and cas people!) if you have any ideas you would like to see done please feel free to send in any requests x

#supernatural #spn #supernatural fluff #supernatural smut #supernatural angst #spn fluff #spn angst #spn smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester angst #sam winchester smut #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel fluff #castiel smut #smut #fluff #angst #bobby singer #chevy impala #claire novak #christmas #jody mills

[dwonfilm]

There’s no life after you. | Dean Winchester x Reader (one-shot)

Summary: Dean felt like he had no other option than to push [Y/N] out of his life completely. When he and Sam find a case in her hometown, he’s hit with all of the emotions he’d tried for so long to bury.

Warnings: swearing, mild-angst, mostly sadness and ending with fluff.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Flashbacks are in bold.

Dean and Sam had found a case in Reno, Nevada—a city that had a lot of memories particularly for the older Winchester. Sure they’d worked a dozen or more cases around here over the years but that wasn’t the type of memories that kept playing on his mind. He only wished it was that simple. Sam had opted to take the backseat, needing some extra rest on the drive and Dean usually drove his precious ‘67 impala anyway. Ever since they’d found this case, the eldest Winchester was uneasy. Not because it was anything special, from the details online it seemed like it was just another vamps nest—maybe even just a handful travelling together.

No, what began to plague his mind was something that cut much deeper than that. All he could think about was you.

It had been roughly two years since he’d last seen you. Every other second of the last year and half had been him fighting the urge to reach out, knowing two things for certain. One: you’d be far better off without him holding you down. Two: even if that wasn’t the case, he’d really hurt you the last time you spoke and despite how much he missed you.. you’d likely never speak to him again—but that’s what he’d wanted right? You to move on, you to live a life that wasn’t plagued by the dangers of all things supernatural. Find a good man, a normal man, settle down.. get married and have kids. Not have to worry about tending to someone who had spent his entire life broken. Shaking his head to try and rid himself of these thoughts, it seemed the universe had other plans.

It seemed at some point in the drive his playlist had changed and delved into the ‘divorced dad rock’ side of things—the first few notes of what he recognized as a Daughtry song began to play. Seemingly just as they’d finally crossed the state lines into Nevada, the lyrics began..

“Ten miles from town and I just broke down, spitting out smoke on the side of the road. I’m out here alone, just trying to get home to tell you I was wrong but you already know. Believe me I won’t stop at nothing to see you so I’ve started running.”

Now Dean knew exactly what song this was and it damn sure wasn’t helping with his desperate need to stop thinking about you. He reached out to change the song but when the chorus hit, he stopped and his finger merely hovered above the button.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you—and I think that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we’ve been through. ‘Cause I know there’s no life after you.”

It was as if the song was delivered down by the hand of God himself, which only made the ache in Dean’s heart that much worse. He’d been in pain ever since he left two years prior, but he had no right to be—he knew that. After all, the reason he didn’t have you by his side was because he left. It was because he walked away. Deeply he’d sigh as the next verse again would line up with the exact thought in his head.

“Last time we talked, the night that I walked burns like an iron in the back of my mind. I must have been high, to say you and I, weren’t meant to be and just wasting my time. Oh why did I ever doubt you? You know I would die here without you.”

Death had truly paled in comparison to how he felt seeing the look in your eyes. All of the pain, the hurt as he watched you break in front of his very eyes. You’d been together three years in total, but what you didn’t know—what he refused to tell you is that his worst fear was becoming a reality. Lucifer had threatened you in order to make Dean comply with his demand. He’d figured out the only way to get to the elder Winchester was through you, seeing as Lucifer himself needed Sam for his own personal vendettas. It wasn’t long after this that Dean knew he had to get as far away from you as possible. All the pain and suffering he’d endured in his lifetime would be nothing if your death was due to him. He couldn’t live with that and more importantly, you deserved more than that out of this life.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you—and I think that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we’ve been through. ‘Cause I know there’s no life after you.”

Sam began to stir in the backseat, which he’s caught sight of through the rear view mirror and so Dean quickly changed the station. He’d use Metallica specifically to shift the mood before his brother woke up and started asking too many questions. Questions that Dean wouldn’t have the answers to and he was already battling his mind to keep it all at bay.

Gripping Baby’s wheel tightly in his hands, he’d continue to path to Reno. About fifteen minutes later was when Sam’s eyes actually opened. “Mornin’ sleeping beauty.” Dean said with a (fake) smile on his face. “Ha-ha, very funny. Wait.. how long was I out? Are we in Nevada already?” He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and noting their desert-like surroundings. “I don’t know, hours Sammy. Yeah we’re in Nevada—about an hour or two ‘til Reno.” Just saying the name of the city was enough to have him nervous again. There was a brief bit of silence between the brothers, Sam had a thought on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t know whether he should say it. Dean’s eyes had fixated on the road ahead and he sensed that his younger brother was gonna bring it up—bring you up, he’d always really liked you. Besides that, he could always seem to tell when things were troubling Dean despite his best efforts to hide it. “You know you could-“ Sam started but knowing it was coming, the elder brother immediately shut it down. “Sam, don’t. Please. I can’t and you know that.” Dean’s voice was shaky and that let him know that he’d already been thinking about things far too long. “You’ve been thinking about it. I know you, man. You think I didn’t see the look on your face when I told you we had something in Reno?” He sighed, knowing that his older brother was struggling with this didn’t make him feel good but he also knew it was making Dean feel worse. “Sammy, please.. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

Sam would shake his head but he let it go, rehashing this with Dean while he was attempting to drive wasn’t gonna end well for either of them. Not to mention an hour and a half of odd tension in such a small place wasn’t ideal either. Instead, the younger brother’s eyes averted from the front of the car altogether as he turned to gaze out the window next to him. Sighing partially in relief and partially from the lingering thoughts, Dean would fully place his attention on the road and on the directions to this particular motel. They needed to get in, solve this case and get out before he did something he’d been trying for quite some time not to do.

Surprisingly this case was a little more difficult to follow through on, these vampires were incredibly elusive and their nest wasn’t the easiest to find. However, after a couple days lingering around they finally located the nest and were able to kill the three vamps that had been killing the locals. As it had become part of the job, Sam and Dean went out to a local dive bar to celebrate the victory—but Dean was trying to do more than that. He was trying to drown the lingering thoughts of you with whiskey, swallowing the liquid and letting it gently burn his throat. This would end up having the opposite effect and only made him think of you more. Over the first hour and change the brothers spent at the bar, three separate girls tried to hit on Dean but he didn’t really pay them any mind. Around the two hour mark the elder of the brothers decided he needed some air, getting up and walking outside. Dragging his dominant hand over his face he was doing anything to cling to that last bit of pride that he had. You were better off and he knew that, but every day that had been lost it was eating at him slowly. He needed a distraction and so he walked over to his precious car, getting into the driver’s seat and sighing. One flick of the wrist and the lights would come on, the radio coming in clear as day: it was that goddamn song again.

“You and I, right or wrong, there’s no other one. After this time spent alone it’s hard to believe that a man with sight could be so blind, thinking about the better times.. must’ve been out of my mind. So I’m running back to tell you.”

Again it seemed like the universe had intervened and Dean Winchester was far too drunk to fight it. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and right now, all that he needed was you. He opened up the driver’s side door and got out just to come face to face with Sam, who had been worried when he couldn’t locate his brother in the bar. “What is it Dean?” He asked, noting the emotional state it was clear he was in—confused but not entirely. It wasn’t like him to be so open with his emotions, but you’d helped him with that. “I need to see her, Sammy. I can’t do this anymore.” There was enough emotion in his voice for his younger brother to know what he meant. Nodding Sam would approach the driver’s side door. “I’m driving, we’re not risking it with you.” Dean normally would protest but right now? All he needed to do was get to you. It didn’t matter how, he just needed to fill the void that he’d put there himself.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, without you god knows what I’d do.”

Dean’s eyes were technically gazing out the window, but that’s not what he saw. His mind was flashing different images in rotation—one happy memory with you followed up by something he’d done to chase your memory away after he’d run away.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you and I think that all that still matters is love ever after—after the life we’ve been through. I know there’s no life after you.”

It seemed fast, but it had probably been about thirty minutes of time that had passed. Not that you lived very far at all, if you were even still at the last address the Winchesters had for you—Sam took a longer route hoping that Dean would sober up a little more before talking with you. Anyone would be able to smell the whiskey on him at this moment, but his words needed to be coherent if there was any chance of you hearing him out. It seemed that he had sort of the same idea because even when the impala had pulled into the driveway, he just sat there. “What if she doesn’t wanna talk?” Dean asked, somber tone to his voice as his eyes remained fixated on the front door of what he hoped was still your home. Mind racing almost as fast as his heart. “Dean, if I know anything about [Y/N], she’ll at least listen—even if she’s incredibly pissed and still hurt.” Sam reassured his older brother. Dean sighed again, not wanting to waste another second and also wanting to see have some alcohol in his system for this conversation. Slowly he opened the passenger side door and stepped out onto the asphalt driveway. Gently closing the door, it had still alerted a dog inside the home who was barking just a little bit every couple of seconds. He carried himself up the few cement steps, turning to see the front door closer than ever. Now more memories of the last time he was here were coming back.

“Dean, please.. why are you doing this? You can’t possibly just have stopped loving me, that’s not..” Her sobs were breaking his heart but he knew this was something he had to do. “Why are you walking away from this? From us? After everything we’ve been through.. after the life we’ve built from the ground up.. you’re just throwing it all away.” She felt as if there was a fire in your chest, she’d been sobbing so intensely for what seemed like forever. Mascara and eyeliner were smudged and made a mess of the space underneath her eyes. “Say something, Dean—please.. why are you pushing me away? What did I do?!” Every word became far more intense and the actual words were hard to discern from the sobs. Dean had just been staring at the floor since the words left his mouth. Three years next to her and he never imagined this day would come, but if you died just so Lucifer could get one up on him? He’d never survive. He’d never be able to carry the weight of your death or your blood on his hands—so this was the only way you got to live a long and happy life without him putting you in harm’s way. “[Y/N/N] I.. I just don’t think we were meant to work out. I’m sorry, I just-“ he was cut off by her intense sobs hearing him saying it again. “Please Dean.. don’t do this.. whatever I did wrong, whatever’s not working we can fix it. Please..” She pleaded, voice already hoarse from the crying and the wailing. “Sweetheart you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me, I’m just, not made out for this relationship stuff.” He’d barely lifted his gaze again to meet her own, but only for a second. Seeing her like that was too hard for his heart to bare. “Why Dean.. please.. it’s been three years. Three years of this and we can talk about it. Whatever it is we can move past it together, don’t you love me anymore?” She sobbed out, arms wrapped around her own chest as Dean looked up to her face and met her gaze one last time. “Honey, I’ll love you ‘til the day I die.” Sighing he turned to walk out the front door, closing it and never looking back. He couldn’t look—his heart had already shattered.

Now here he was again, roughly two years later, taking the last few steps to fully stand at your front door. Lifting his hand which had formed a loose fist, he’d knock three times upon the wooden material of the door. There was no answer and no sign that anyone was home other than the dog barking that he’d heard moments prior. Dean was about to turn and walk back down the pathway when he heard the doorknob turning after the lock clicked out of position. “Do you know how late it is, what do you nee—“ her eyes widened when she realized who had just knocked at her door. “D-Dean.. what are you..” she felt her bottom lip quivering. Dean could tell this was the last thing she’d ever thought would happen. “Hi, sweetheart. I-“ before he could get another word out of his mouth, he was met with a harsh slap to the side of his face. His eyes fell as he collected his thoughts, waiting before speaking again. “I deserve that. I deserve that and so much more. [Y/N/N] I’m so sorry.. I’m so fucking sorry.” He got out, not being able to look back up at her just yet. “You’ve got some kind of nerve showing up here, this late at night.. Dean you broke my heart and you stomped on it to boot. Why do you think after two whole years that I’d listen to whatever the hell you have to say?” It was obvious that there was sadness and hurt laced within her voice, more so than the anger she’s trying to push forward. Slowly his head tilted back into its usual position and his eyes found hers again. “I know there’s no life after you.” It was all he could say in that second and her expression softened, before she’d built the wall back up. “You came all the way to quote a Daughtry song?”

“No, I’m quoting that damn song because for the three days Sam and I have been in Reno I’ve heard it everywhere. My car, in a store, hell in my head—[Y/N] I’ve been trying every day since I left to push your memory from my mind. I wanted so badly to forget about you and know that you were free to have a normal life. I also know that I’ve got no right to stand on your doorstep telling you how much pain I’ve been in since the second I walked out this door two years ago when this whole fucking thing is my fault.” He paused, tears slowly falling as he tried to blink them away. “[Y/N] I was afraid. I was so afraid.. I couldn’t lose you like that-“ Again he was cut off but just by her words this time. “Dean you did lose me, you pushed me away—fuck you pushed me out of your life altogether. You’re absolutely correct, you don’t have any right to stand here talking about your pain. I didn’t eat, I barely slept, for weeks after you left. All I did was lay on that couch and sob. Endlessly. After I couldn’t physically sob any more I thought, there has to be some kind of monster or witch doing this and so I researched for weeks and still barely ate and slept only a fraction more. All I came up with was dead end after dead end and so I finally had to realize the truth.” She sobbed out, pausing to try and steady her own voice. “You chose to leave on your own.” She’d opened her mouth to continue talking but now it was his turn to sob out, which caught her completely off guard. “He made me feel like I had no other choice..”

Now you stood with a perplexed look on your face as tears were streaming down your cheeks. “What.. who-“ before the question could even fully leave her lips, the man she loved began to speak again. “Lucifer. He needed Sammy, you know all that one true vessel shit, so he couldn’t hurt me that way. He knew any threat he put to Sam wouldn’t stick because deep down I knew that Lucifer needed Sam alive and well to complete whatever sick and twisted plan he had thought out.” She felt both her heart and her stomach drop, figuring out exactly where this was going. “[Y/N] he said he’d kill you and not think twice. I couldn’t.. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you died all because I love you. I wouldn’t be able to breathe knowing that your death was my fault and I’d never get your blood off my hands.” His confidence had wavered, the alcohol mostly wearing off. You sighed, a silence falling over the two of you as you attempted to process what he’d just said. “Dean.. why didn’t you just talk to me? Tell me what he said and we could’ve talked about it.” She asked, the venom gone from her words and a sadness settling over them. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to admit that I was scared especially to you, I’m the one that was supposed to keep you safe. I know that’s not an excuse and I’m not trying to excuse me hurting you like I did—that image of you hugging yourself and crying the hardest I’d ever seen someone cry has haunted me all this time. I never wanna hurt anyone but I damn sure never wanted to hurt you.. at all—let alone like that..”

Again a silence fell between them, it felt like a lifetime between their words and the action she’d finally take. Stepping forward she used both of her hands to cup his face, both having glassy hues due to all the tears. “I forgive you, Dean.” She said almost in a whisper. He felt his heart racing and he eyes searched hers for any sign that this might not be true. Seconds felt like hours but he couldn’t find any sign of deception and instinctively, he plunged forward to connect his lips with her own. It had caught her off guard but she was returning the kiss with an explosion of passion. They chased the other’s lips in a back and forth motion until they both couldn’t breathe. After pushing the limit a little further they’d separate but remain forehead-to-forehead. “I know there’s no life after you.” She spoke in a soft tone before pulling Dean inside of her home and re-locking the door.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #fanfic #supernatural #dean winchester imagines #spn #spn imagines #dean winchester x reader #fanfics

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Phantom Traveler | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, namecalling, typical Dean and reader

Word Count: 8289

A/N: Hi guys. I've been overwhelmed with love these past few weeks. Just wanted to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading. You guys are fucking awesome; I'm so grateful. I hope y'all enjoy this week's episode! Asks/requests/taglists are open!!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You were sound asleep, curled up into yourself when a knock on the door brought you out of your slumber. 

“(Y/N)?”

‘Sam.’

“I got coffee, thought you could use some,” he called through the door.

You pushed yourself up out of the bed as you yawned, and walked over to the door of your motel room to open it for Sam. 

“Dude, you realize it’s six in the morning, right?” You scratched your head as you let Sam into the room.

“You sound like my brother.”

You playfully glared at him. “Don’t compare me to him.”

“Here.” He handed you a coffee and a bag of what you assumed was a pastry.

“Thanks,” you replied, sitting on your bed with your stuff in hand. 

Sam sat on the chair across from you. “Still haven’t warmed up to Dean, huh?” 

“Well, he hasn’t exactly warmed up to me,” you reminded him, thinking of the fight you got into yesterday over his reckless driving.

“Guess that’s true,” he conceded. “It’s weird, though, you guys are so much more alike than you let on.”

“Tell that to him. He started it.” You took a big bite of your pastry.

“Seriously?” Sam laughed, “ ‘He started it’?”

You shrugged, smirking. 

He seemed to remember his original intention behind disturbing your slumber. “Hey, he found a case, though.” 

“Oh, yeah? What’s up?” You licked the pastry cream off your thumb.

“We don’t know. The guy on the phone didn’t say.” Sam raised his coffee cup to his lips.

“Guy on the phone?” You took a sip of your coffee as you let Sam answer.

“Yeah. Some guy my dad and Dean worked a case for a while back’s got another one for us. He called Dean.”

“Ah—” you nodded, “—gotcha. So, where’s he live?”

“Pennsylvania,” Sam responded. 

“Okay, not too far,” you noted. “I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

***

“Thanks for making the trip so quick,” a short older man named Jerry told you and the boys. “I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out.”

You were walking beside Sam as you followed behind the man who was having you do this job. You were being led through a warehouse past planes as well as their parts and people hard at work.

“Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?” Sam asked the older man.

Someone walking in front of your group was eavesdropping on you. “Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.”

“Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking,” Jerry stated authoritatively to the man. He turned his attention back to the conversation. “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart.” He addressed Dean. “Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?” He’d turned to Sam.

“Yeah, I was. I'm— taking some time off,” Sam explained.

“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”

“He did?” Knowing what you knew about Sam’s relationship with his dad, you found this surprising, too.

“Yeah, you bet he did,” Jerry nodded. “Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?”

“He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now,” Dean lied. 

“Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam and— what’s your name again?” he asked you.

“(Y/N).”

“(Y/N). Even trade, huh?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that,” you laughed.

“Say, (Y/N), how’d you get wrapped up with these two?” Jerry asked.

“Oh, uh—” you began, searching for an abridged version of the truth, “—I met them on a hunt in California. They decided to drag me along with them.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. The guys are gonna need backup with this one,” Jerry said. 

“Why?” 

He did not give a direct answer to your question. “I got something I want you guys to hear.”

He led you to his office where you and Sam took the two chairs and Dean stood behind his brother.

”I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley,” Jerry stated, putting a CD into a drive. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”

A frantic voice immediately rang out from the speaker as soon as the recording started. “Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485—” the recording cut out with a static sound, “—immediate instruction help! United Britannia 2485, I copy your message—” and cut out again, “—May be experiencing some mechanical failure—” and then cut out one last time. The man’s voice was completely drowned out by static, whooshing, and growling sounds.

“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south,” Jerry continued. “Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh… well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.”

“You don't think it was?” Sam questioned him.

“No, I don't.”

“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors,” Sam listed.

“Alright,” the man replied.

“And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean inquired.

“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage… guys— and gal— the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.” Jerry shook his head.

You frowned.

“No problem,” Dean declared.

You gave him a questioning look to which he shrugged off.

***

“How fucking long does it take to make a fake ID?” you groaned, falling back across the backseat of the Impala. You and Sam had found a way to isolate the EVP on Sam’s computer, having gotten a copy of the tape from Jerry.

“I don’t know,” Sam responded. “But I’m gonna lose it if it’s much longer.”

“Same here.” At that moment, Dean walked out of the Copy Jack the Impala was sitting in front of as a pretty woman walked into the store. They greeted each other before Dean walked over to you and his brother.

“Dude,” you started, “You’ve been in there forever.”

“Wah-wah,” he whined, mocking you. “You can’t rush perfection.” He held up three IDs.

“Homeland Security?” Sam questioned as he took one of the IDs. “That's pretty illegal, even for us.”

“Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times,” Dean pointed out as he got into the car.

“Alright, so, what do you got?” Dean asked his brother as he flicked your ID back at you. It hit you square in the side of the head. 

“Dude, really?” you hissed, aggravation clear in your tone.

“Shh,” the older Winchester hushed you as he waited for Sam to answer.

“Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder,” Sam explained.

“Yeah?”

“Listen.”

The isolated voice of what you were dealing with came through the recording scratchy and backed by demonic growling sounds. “No survivors!”

“ ’No survivors’?” Dean asked. “What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”

You shrugged.

Dean let out a sigh. “So, what are we thinking? A haunted flight?” 

“There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers,” Sam began.

Dean hummed in affirmation. “Or remember flight 401?”

“Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.”

“I don’t know, guys,” you stated skeptically. “Ghost just doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, thanks for your optimism, sunshine,” Dean quipped.

“It’s not about optimism, you asshole, it’s about being right and dealing with whatever we’re up against properly,” you pushed back.

“Know-it-all,” the older Winchester replied. 

“Fuck off, Winchester.”

He let out a breath and turned his attention back to the case.“Alright, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?”

"Third on the list: Max Jaffey,” you said.

“I wasn’t talking to you, but why him?”

You glared at Dean. “Because if anybody saw something weird, he did. I talked to his mom while you were spending forever in the store. She said some pretty weird shit and told me where to find him. He was so screwed up, he checked himself into the hospital.”

***

You and the Winchesters walked beside Max Jaffey, who hobbled on a cane, through the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital’s garden. 

“I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security,” Max told your trio.

“Right. Some new information has come up,” Dean lied. “So if you could just answer a couple questions...”

“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything… unusual?” Sam questioned.

Max looked confused. “Like what?”

“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices,” Dean offered. 

“No, nothing.”

Seeing as no one was getting anywhere with this investigation, you tried your hand at it. “Mr. Jaffey, you checked yourself in here, right?”

He nodded at you.

“Why?”

“Uh, I was a little stressed,” he said sarcastically. “I survived a plane crash.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded. “And that’s what scared you? That’s what screwed you up so badly?”

You could tell you were close to the answers you were after as he swallowed uncomfortably. “I— I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

“I know, but I also know you saw something up there,” you continued. “We need to know what.”

“No.” Max shook his head. “No, I was… delusional. Seeing things.”

“He was seeing things,” Dean half-mocked him.

You shot a warning glance at Dean, hoping to get him to shut up. 

“It's okay,” you coaxed. “Just tell us what you thought you saw, please.”

“There was… this—man. And, uh, he had these… eyes—these, uh, black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him...” he trailed off, stopping as he recounted the events.

“What?” Dean asked.

“He opened the emergency exit,” Max explained. “But that's— that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.”

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, clearly confused. 

“This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?” Sam asked.

Max quirked his head at the younger Winchester. “What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.”

***

“I think we can rule out phantom traveler,” you noted as you got out of the car in front of the Phelps’s house. You were going to visit the wife of George Phelps, the man who opened the emergency exit. 

“Why?” Dean asked.

“You heard Jaffey. He said the dude had black eyes. Opened a fucking emergency exit on his own. ‘Black eyes’ points me to demon.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Demons?”

“I mean, it makes sense,” Sam shrugged. “He could be a demon. He might be some kind of a creature, too, in human form.”

“Does that look like a creature's lair to you?” Dean questioned as he gestured toward the house that was representative of the essence of suburban houses. From its beautiful garden to the cobblestone steps to the beige paint coating the outside of the two-story building.

Sam shrugged and began leading your trio up the steps of the house. 

Once inside, you three sat across from Mrs. Phelps on the couch while she sat in an armchair. 

Sam picked a picture of Mrs. Phelps and an older man up off of the side table. “This is your late husband?” he asked.

“Yes, that was my George.”

“And you said he was a dentist?” Dean questioned. 

She hummed in affirmation. “He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that...”

Sam asked another question. “How long were you married?”

“Thirteen years.”

You could tell Sam was contemplating how to ask his next question. “In all that time, did you ever notice anything… strange about him; anything out of the ordinary?”

She paused for a moment. “Well, uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean.”

You nodded, clicking your tongue. “I think that’s all we have for you, Mrs. Phelps. Thank you for your time.”

She showed all of you out, and you piped up as you walked down the stairs outside of the house. 

“Demon’s sounding more and more correct all the time,” you smiled, trying to joke around.

“Jesus, you’re annoying,” Dean groaned.

“And you’re a misogynistic dick that can’t handle women with brains,” you responded. 

“What, are we gonna duke this out now?” Dean stopped by the door of the car, facing you. 

You stood by the backseat’s door. “You started it,” you taunted childishly, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared back at him. 

“Really?” he leered. “You’re gonna pull that card? Mature.”

“You act like you’re any better.”

“Guys—” Sam tried to cut in, but Dean continued to fight with you. 

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Wow, haven’t heard that one before,” you drawled.

“Guys! You can fight later. Wrong place, wrong time to sort this out,” Sam chastised you and Dean like you were children.

You got in the car and slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t hurt my baby ‘cause you’re pissed,” Dean scolded you as he started to pull the car away. 

“Just drive, asshole,” you grumbled in frustration as you slumped down in your seat. The rest of the car ride to the local outlet mall was silent.

***

You had never felt more confident. Despite the fact that you could have worn the one dress you already had to pose as homeland security, you decided to treat yourself to a new outfit to distract from your aggravation with Dean. 

The boys had gone to a suit shop called “Mort’s for Style,” and you went into a dress shop called “Betsy’s.” It was a cute little shop with a lot of great dress and pantsuit options.

You had picked out a navy blue pantsuit. You wore a white button-up underneath the blazer with the top two buttons undone to accentuate your breasts. The blazer was unbuttoned, and the high-waisted, straight-legged pants you wore matched the black color of your blazer. With the white button-up tucked into your pants and the small amount of makeup you threw on to draw attention to your eyes and lips, you felt good. 

Once you had paid for your clothing, you walked out of the shop and back to the Impala. Surprisingly, the boys were not there waiting for you. 

You leaned your back against the car, picking out the grit from under your nails.

You looked up when you heard Dean’s voice. “Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.” 

Both of the boys were dressed in sharp, black suits. You almost lost your breath at the sight of Dean, but fought yourself to keep your composure. You would not give him the satisfaction of knowing you found him attractive. 

“No, you don't,” Sam told him. “You look more like a seventh-grader at his first dance.”

You laughed at the younger brother’s jeer. “What took you girls so long?” you asked once you got in the Impala. “I thought you two would’ve beat me out the store by a long shot.”

“Dean wouldn’t leave the dressing room,” Sam said dryly.

“Seriously?” you droned.

You and Sam both looked to Dean, who did not answer immediately. When he finally spoke, he complained, “I hate this thing.”

“Hey,” Sam stared. “You want into that warehouse or not?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he continued to drive along.

You steeled your nerves as your black, pointed-toe pumps clicked across the warehouse floor. Your trio was headed to the security guard that would allow you in to see the wreckage.

You held the clipboard you had stowed in your bag close to your chest, acting as some sort of a recorder for the boys. The three of you flashed your badges at the security guard, who nodded and allowed you into the hangar where the wreckage was being kept.

There was a large map of what the plane should look like painted onto the floor, and the parts that corresponded to the different portions of the map were laid in their proper spots. There were wires hung on fences and broken interior parts of the plane laid on tables. The most heartbreaking things for you to look at were the torn passengers’ seats because most of the people who had been in them were now dead.

You looked over at Dean, who had earbuds in and was moving a small box over the tops of the wreckage.

“What’s that?” you asked him.

“It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies.”

You got closer to him, noticing what the object appeared to be. “I know what an EMF meter is; I’m not stupid. But why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?”

“ 'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade,” he grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you quipped. 

His grin disappeared. “Bitch.”

“Dick.”

You once again fought the pain in your chest when he called you a bitch. In all honesty, you thought his homemade EMF meter was cute. However, you were too far gone in your war with him to surrender now.

Dean ran the Walkman over a piece of the wreckage with black spores and yellow dust on it. You could hear the faint sound of a spike on the meter through Dean’s headphones.

“Check out the emergency door handle,” Dean called to Sam. 

Sam came over to where you and Dean stood as the older brother scratched at the dust to get some on his hand.

“What is this stuff?” Dean asked.

One way to find out.” You saw the younger of the two brothers start scraping some of the dust into a small bag.

“We need to go,” you told the boys. You weren’t sure what told you that, but you just suddenly felt unsettled. The hairs on the back of your neck stood at attention, and every muscle in your body tensed. You started off toward the exit in the back of the warehouse. 

“Wait, (Y/N), what if we’re missin’ something?” Dean questioned, clearly aggravated you were ready to ditch already.

“Too bad, we gotta go.” You kept walking toward the exit, making it out of the door and around the backside of the building. 

At that moment, an alarm started blaring through the area surrounding the warehouse.

You turned around to look at the boys as you gloated, “I’m not gonna say, ‘I told you so’!“ Not bothering to rip your shoes off of your feet, you took off running to the gated exit. 

Sam and Dean were quick to follow you and soon passed you up. The older brother took off his suit jacket and threw it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence. You did the same with your blazer. After quickly taking off your pumps to avoid hurting yourself when you jumped from the top of the gate, you threw yourself over the fence. The other two did the same.

Sam grabbed your blazer that you were too small to reach from the top of the fence as Dean found it within himself to remark, “Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.”

You ran after the two boys, heels and blazer in hand as the jagged rocks in the cement cut into your feet. As soon as you shut the door to the car, Dean slammed on the gas pedal.

He tore out of the warehouse’s parking lot, speeding down the road to head toward Jerry’s workplace. 

"(Y/N),” Sam started, turning in his seat to face you with a curious expression on his face, “how did you know that?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. My intuition’s just always been pretty sharp.” You were being honest; there had been a few times on hunts previously when you’d known it was time to get the hell out of dodge.

“Hm.” You could tell Dean still didn’t trust you.

“Dude, I don’t know what else to tell you. That’s the truth,” you countered. “I’ve been helping you guys with your dad for almost two months now, and you still don’t trust me. I don’t know what more to do for you.”

“Maybe because I don’t know you,” he responded, never taking his eyes off the road. 

“Maybe if you tried to know me, you’d find it a little easier to trust me,” you answered.

“Not interested,” came Dean’s grumbled response.

You tried your best to ignore the pang that went through your chest once more. “Of course not.”

***

You refused to speak to or even look at Dean; your frustration with the fact that he had no desire to know you and his general existence boiling to the surface. You could feel his stare burning into the side of your head as you focused on Jerry, who sat in front of you. He was looking through a microscope on his desk at the yellow dust Sam had collected.

“Huh,” Jerry remarked. “This stuff is covered in sulfur.”

“You're sure?” Sam asked.

“Take a look for yourself,” Jerry offered, getting up from behind the desk so Sam could take his place. 

Banging sounds along with a string of curse words caught your ear as Jerry sighed. 

“If you guys will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire,” he dryly stated, walking out of the office.

You got up from the chair you were sitting in next to Dean. “See?” you started excitedly, gesturing toward the sulfur, “Demons.”

“That would explain how one guy had the strength to open up the emergency exit,” Sam added.

“This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?” Dean put his hands on his hips as he stood. “You ever heard of something like this before?” 

Sam looked over at his brother, who responded, “Never.”

“Well, I have,” you said simply.

They both looked to you to continue.

“In NYC a couple years back. Some cabbies had gotten possessed and were takin’ girls left and right.”

“Those were demons?” Sam asked, standing up from behind Jerry’s desk. “That was a huge deal on the news while I was at Stanford. Police thought it was a serial killer. You took ‘em on all by yourself?”

“I’m a big girl, Sam,” you chuckled. “I can handle a few demons. But, yeah, that was me. That was probably the toughest case I’ve ever been on. Finding where those demons had taken those girls after they drugged them in the cabs... where they were raped and murdered...” You shook your head, your cheery expression gone. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Sam told you gently. 

Your eyes were glued to the floor, hands on your hips with not a bit of life in your voice as you muttered, “All in a day’s work.”

Sam had asked you to tell him and Dean everything you knew about demons once you got back to the Winchesters’ motel room. Sam sat at the table close to the window while Dean sat on the bed closest to his brother. You stood in front of the two as you spoke.

“Demons exist in every religion in every world culture. With the ones that I was dealing with up in New York, they were most similar to Incubi from early Christian religion. Incubi raped sleeping girls. These demons drugged the girls to put them to sleep, then they raped them, and then they murdered them. What I’m thinking for these demons is that they’re most similar to certain Japanese demons. I had to look into these when I was trying to figure out how to kill the NYC demons. The Japanese believe demons cause certain disasters, whether it be natural or man-made. Some cause earthquakes, others cause disease—”

“And this one causes plane crashes?” Dean deadpanned, cutting you off.

You ignored him. “Demons are having to find new ways to ratchet up the body count. Like with me in New York, Incubi can’t go about their old methods anymore. This demon probably evolved with the times like the Incubi did, and so it figured plane crashes were the best way to get its job done.”

Dean snorted, getting up from. the bed and turning away from you and his brother.

“What?” Sam asked.

He turned around, scratching the back of his neck. “I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death, and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here.”

“Yeah. Me too,” the younger Winchester admitted.

Dean’s phone rang, and he answered it. “Hello?... Oh, hey, Jerry… Wha— Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?... Where'd this happen?... I'll try to ignore the irony in that… Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon.”

He hung up the phone. 

“Another crash?” Sam questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah. Let's go.”

“Where?”

“Nazareth.” 

‘Ah, there’s the irony.’

***

After leaving the horrendous scene of Chuck’s plane crash, you and the boys went back to Jerry’s office. Once again, Jerry confirmed that the dust you had taken from the steering wheel of Chuck’s plane was, in fact, sulfur. 

“Well, that's great,” Dean sassed. “Alright, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.”

“If that's the case, that would be the good news,” you chimed in. You looked up to the sky, addressing the pilot. “No offense, Chuck.”

“What's the bad news?” Jerry asked you.

“Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight, just like 2485,” you informed the older man.

“Forty minutes?” Chuck inquired. “What does that mean?”

“It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death,” Dean said.

“I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in,” Sam explained.

"Any survivors?” the older Winchester questioned his brother.

“No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason.” Sam turned to you after thinking for a moment. “On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?”

“ ‘No survivors,’ “ you realized. “It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.”

Dean drove the Impala down an empty highway. 

Sam was on the phone with one of the survivors from the plane crash, the conversation almost over. “Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.” He hung up the phone. “All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.”

“That leaves the flight attendant, Amanda Walker,” you commented.

“Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight P.M. It's her first night back on the job,” Sam told you and his brother. 

“That sounds like just our luck,” Dean grumbled.

“Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel,” Sam said worriedly.

“Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass,” Dean tried.

“I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off.”

“God, we're never gonna make it,” you shook your head, leaning back in the seat as you scrubbed a hand through your hair.

“We'll make it,” the older brother countered, slamming his foot on the gas. 

Somehow, someway, Dean had managed to get to the airport at ten minutes to seven. 

You jumped up out of the car, taking your gun out of your pants and stashing it under the backseat.

“What are you doing?” 

You still did not feel like talking to Dean but answered him shortly nonetheless. “We’re going into an airport.”

Dean finally caught onto what you meant and took all of his weapons off of him, too. “I feel naked.”

You fought the smile threatening to creep up your face.

You rushed into the airport just behind the boys, squeezing your way through the crowd of people to get to the departure board.

“Right there,” Sam pointed out. “They're boarding in thirty minutes.”

“Okay. We still have some cards to play,” Dean paused, thinking for a moment.  “We need to find a phone.” 

He found a courtesy phonw on the wall, picking it up. “Hi. Gate thirteen… I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um… flight 4-2-4.”

He waited impatiently for Amanda to pick up the phone. When she finally did, he began speaking again.

“Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here… Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—” His face fell, his eyes widening a touch. “You what?... Uh, well… there must be some mistake—”

Sam went around his brother to try to get a closer listen. 

After a longer pause, Dean let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “...Guilty as charged… He's really sorry… Yeah, but… he really needs to see you tonight, so—... Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic… Oh, yeah… No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!” Dean slammed the phone back onto the receiver. “Damn it! So close.”

"Alright, time for plan B. We're getting on that plane,” you stated firmly.

“Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.” For the first time since you met him, Dean looked scared.

“Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash,” Sam argued.

“I know.” He looked conflicted.

“Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You and (Y/N) get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

Dean looked at Sam blankly, evidently a little anxious.

“Are you okay?” the younger Winchester asked.

Dean hesitated. “No, not really.”

“What? What's wrong?”

“Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh...”

“Flying?” you cut in.

“It's never really been an issue until now,” he told you.

“You're joking, right?” Sam huffed.

“Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?” he spat.

For the first time since you met him, you didn’t feel like mocking him about his fear of planes.

“Okay, then (Y/N) and I’ll go,” Sam proposed.

Dean shook his head. “What?”

“We’ll handle this one.”

“What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash.”

“Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one with (Y/N). I'm not seeing a third option, here.”

Dean scratched his head. “Come on! Really? Man...”

Dean walked much faster than you did toward the car to get supplies, clearly trying to leave you in his dust.

“Would you slow down a bit, please?” you asked.

“Why should I?”

“Because even if you get to the car before me, you’re not gonna have a fucking clue what to use to deal with a demon,” you reminded him, your words a bit more venomous than need-be.

He stopped, turning to face you. “Are you calling me stupid?”

“No,” you told him. You truly weren’t.

“Definitely sounds like you are.”

You walked past him to the trunk of the Impala. “I wasn’t, I’m simply pointing out the fact that I’m the one who knows how to deal with demons, and you don’t.”

“There you go again. Acting like you know so much better than I do.” His attitude was truly exhausting.

Your voice rose as you defended yourself. “Because I do! In this case, at least!”

“But it’s not just this one time that you acted like you’re better than me,” he argued. “Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with your smart ass?”

“Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with yours?” you threw back. You sighed, putting aside your anger for now. “Look, we don’t have time to talk about this.” You shoved holy water, a rosary, and the EMF Walkman into Dean’s hands. “Now, let’s go.” 

You shoved past Dean and headed back to the airport.

***

You sat between Sam and Dean, completely at ease. Dean, however, was losing his mind.

"Just try to relax,” Sam whispered from the window seat 

Dean’s voice came back harder and slightly louder. “Just try to shut up.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” you scolded playfully.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Dean clapped back using the same tone with you that he had with Sam. He took in a sharp breath when the plane began moving a second later.

You gathered your courage and grabbed his hand. He jerked away from you and looked at you in surprise. When the plane took off, though, his hand rejoined yours, squeezing tightly. You giggled to yourself.

“I’m so glad this is funny to you,” Dean hissed.

“It’s not,” you answered simply.

“Then why are you laughing?” His grip tightened once again.

“It’s just,” you considered your next words carefully. “It’s kind of cute, that’s all.”

Dean was caught off-guard by your response. He eyed you quizzically, unsure of what to say. You just shrugged, settling the back of your head against your seat with your hand still in Dean’s. It was much larger than yours, and you fought the urge to run your fingers along the calloused ridges. 

Moments passed in a bit of an uncomfortable silence before Dean spoke again, not a trace of bite in his tone. “Why are you doing this?”

You rolled your head toward him. “Everybody’s scared of something,” you quietly replied. “It helps me to know I’m helping you. Even if you do hate my guts.”

“I don’t hate your guts.” He spoke so softly you almost couldn’t hear him.

“Pfft, could’ve fooled me,” you answered. 

“You just…” he started, “...get on my nerves. ‘S all.”

You giggled. 

A few minutes later when the plane had fully gotten up in the air, you heard the familiar sound of a song you had heard many times before in the Impala coming from the man next to you. 

“You're humming Metallica?” Sam asked Dean monotonously.

“Calms me down,” the older brother replied. 

“ ‘Some Kind of Monster’? Really?“ You raised a brow at him.

Dean did not respond to you.

“Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused,” the younger Winchester reminded his brother.

“Yup,” you chimed in. “We only have thirty-two minutes to track the bitch down and full-on exorcise it.” 

“Yeah, on a crowded plane,” Dean commented. “That's gonna be easy.”

“Just take it one step at a time, alright?” Sam said calmly. “Now, who is it possessing?” 

“It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress,” Dean stated.

“Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up,” Sam told Dean, who hummed in response.

Dean sat up stiffly, his body still tense as he turned to the blonde flight attendant walking past.

“Excuse me. Are you Amanda?” he asked her.

“No, I'm not,” she answered with a smile.

"Oh, my mistake.”

The flight attendant hummed in agreement.

He peered into the back of the plane, finding the other blonde flight attendant. “All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state.”

“What if she's already possessed, genius?” Sam asked.

“There's ways to test that,” Dean responded, pulling the holy water out of his jacket. “I brought holy water.”

“Correction, I brought holy water—” you leaned forward, gently taking the bottle, “—And that’s for when we try to exorcise the demon. She’ll flinch at the name of god if she’s possessed.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Dean replied, getting up from his chair. You could tell he had not. You already missed the feeling of his hand in yours.

He turned to go, but you stopped him.

“Dean!” you whispered.

“What?” The annoyance in Dean’s voice was back. 

“Say it in Latin.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then what is it?” you smirked, quirking a brow.

“ ‘Christo!’ I’m not an idiot!” he hissed back. Dean turned away from you and headed to the back of the plane. 

You slumped down in your seat, closing your eyes as the copilot began speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your first officer speaking...” you tuned out the rest of his message.

A few minutes went by before the older brother returned.

“Alright, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet,” he sighed as he flopped back into his seat.

“You said ‘Christo’?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her.” 

“So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere,” Sam explained.

The plane shook, causing Dean to tense up. He grabbed your hand once more. “Come on!” he whined. “That can't be normal!”

“Hey, hey, it's just turbulence,” you coaxed.

“Sweetheart, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm fucking four.” He went to drop your hand, but you tightened your grip.

“Okay,” you started, changing tactics. Your tone became harsh. “You need to calm down.”

“Well, I'm sorry, I can't,” Dean sassed.

“You didn’t want to be treated like you’re four, so stop acting like it,” you commanded. “Be a man, Winchester. If you’re a basketcase, you’re wide open to possession. Get your shit together. Right now.”

Dean took a deep breath.

You smiled. “Great. Onto the Rituale Romanum.”

“The what?” Sam and Dean asked in unison.

“The exorcism ritual,” you elaborated. “It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.”

“More powerful?” Dean questioned, his voice strained and eyes wide.

“Yup.”

“How?” He was starting to get panicky again.

“It’d just be able to wreak havoc on its own without a vessel,” you informed.

“Oh. And why is that a good thing?”

“ 'Cause the second part of that sends the bitch back to hell once and for all.”

“First things first, we got to find it.”

“There ya go,” you chuckled.

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled, getting up from his chair with the EMF Walkman.

You and Sam let him walk down the aisle by himself for a few minutes before the two of you got up to go talk to him.

You tapped his shoulder.

“Ah!” Dean jumped back, wheeling around to face you. “Don’t do that!”

“Anything?” Sam asked.

The older brother shook his head. “No, nothing. How much time we got?” 

“Fifteen minutes,” Sam told you and his brother. “Maybe we missed somebody.” 

“Maybe the thing's just not on the plane,” Dean shrugged.

“No way. Dean, it’s gonna be here,” you protested. Just as you spoke, the EMF meter spiked. 

You looked up to see the copilot coming out of the bathroom.

“What?” Sam asked. “What is it?”

You stared at the copilot. “Christo.”

The man’s head slowly turned toward you and the boys, his eyes black.

You wheeled around to face Sam. “We gotta talk to Amanda.”

“She's not gonna believe this,” Sam contested.

“You’re probably right, but we only got twelve minutes,” you reminded the younger brother. You walked ahead of the boys into the concessions area where Amanda busied herself.

“Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope,” she smiled politely, clearly caught off-guard by your presence.

“Actually—” Dean began, “—that's kind of what we need to talk to you about.”

Sam closed the curtains behind you as Amanda answered Dean. “Um, okay. What can I do for you?”

“Alright, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole ‘the truth is out there’ speech right now,” Dean rushed out.

She looked confused but kept her smile painted on her face.

“Alright, look, we know you were on flight 2485,” Sam continued for Dean.

Her grin disappeared. “Who are you guys?”

Sam ignored her question. “Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure.”

“We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now,” the older brother told her.

“I'm sorry—” she started, attempting to move past you, “I— I'm very busy. I have to go back—”

“Chuck Lambert’s dead, Amanda,” you cut in, effectively stopping her from leaving. “The pilot from 2485.”

“Wait. What?” She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “Chuck is dead?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “He died in a plane crash. That’s the second plane crash in two months. Doesn’t that strike you as weird?”

She shook her head in complete disbelief.

“Look, there was something wrong with 2485,” Sam added. “Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too.”

Dean made a last attempt to drive the point home. “Amanda, you have to believe us.”

The blonde looked to the ground. “On… on 2485, there was this man. He… had these eyes.”

“Black eyes?” you asked.

She nodded.

“That’s exactly what we’re talking about,” Sam clarified.

“I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?”

Dean answered before you got the chance to. “Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.”

Amanda looked between the three of you, confused. “Why? What does he have to do with anything?”

“Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?”

“How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—” You could practically see her mind running a mile a minute. 

Even Sam was getting impatient. “Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit.”

“Do you know that I could lose my job if you—”

“Babe, you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't go get him right now,” you remarked.

She looked at you and nodded, turning to leave for the cockpit.

As soon as Amanda made it out of the curtains, you fished the holy water out of your hoodie’s pocket, moving to press your back against the wall next to the closed blue curtains.

A few moments later, you heard the copilot say to Amanda, “Yeah, what's the problem?” Just outside the curtains. As soon as the demon ducked into the small room, Dean punched him in the face. He then shoved the demon to the ground and slapped duct tape over his mouth. 

“Wait,” Amanda protested as you got down on the ground beside Dean, “What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.”

“We are gonna talk to him,” Dean replied simply as you splashed the copilot with holy water.

The demon groaned under the duct tape, his skin sizzling and burning holes through his shirt.

“Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?” Amanda cried.

“Look,” Sam started calmly, “We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain.”

Amanda’s breath quickened. “Well, I don't underst— I don't know—”

“Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?”

She gave herself a pep talk before heading outside of the curtains.

“Hurry up, Sam,” Dean groaned. “I don't know how much longer I can hold him.”

The demon went to kick the older Winchester in the back, but you dove to grab his legs.

Sam began reciting the Latin ritual written in his father’s journal. “Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino—”

The demon kneed you in the forehead, causing you to fall back and got a few good swings at the boys in as well. You clambered on top of the copilot, sitting on his stomach with his arms pinned by his sides under your legs.

Sam continued with the ritual before the demon threw you off of him. He ripped the tape off of his mouth and turned to Sam. “I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!”

You attempted to recover from getting slammed into the wall while Dean focused on attacking the demon.

Sam sat there in shock, so you grabbed the journal and tried to finish the ritual.

The demon hit Dean again, effectively getting the young man off of him and knocking Dean into you. The book fell from your hand, and the demon kicked it out into the passenger’s cabin.

A cloud of black smoke flew out from the copilot’s body and into a vent while Sam went out into the aisle to find the journal. 

Suddenly, the plane shook violently and took a nosedive. The lights in the plane flickered and you and Dean were thrown to the back wall of the concession’s area. 

You and Dean screamed as the plane went down. Dean held onto the emergency exit door for dear life as you pressed yourself into the corner opposite from the older Winchester.

Your yelps were cut off when the plane leveled out following a surge of electricity coursing through the aircraft. You assumed Sam was able to finish the ritual and the pilot was able to regain control of the plane. 

You shakily stood up from the ground and dusted yourself off, tugging on the sleeves of your large hoodie.

You stepped out into the passenger’s cabin, heading to Sam as people began asking their neighbors if they were okay.

You wrapped Sam in a short, tight hug as you thanked him for keeping his head level enough to finish the ritual and trying to comfort him after what the demon had said. When you had made your way back to your seats, a slight rumble went through the aircraft. Dean grabbed your hand once again, and kept it there for the rest of the flight. A small smile tugged at your lips. 

After landing back at your original airport, you stood beside Sam and Dean as you watched the swarms of EMTs, FBI agents, and FAA agents go from person to person. They questioned or looked over each one, and your focus bounced between them.

You found Amanda in the crowd talking to an FBI agent, and she turned to the side to mouth “thank you” to you and the Winchesters.

“Let's get out of here,” Dean said firmly.

You began to head to the exit when Dean asked Sam, “You okay?”

You turned back to Sam, who reminded you and his brother, “Dean, it knew about Jessica.”

“Sam, these things, they, they read minds. They lie. Alright? That's all it was.” The older brother attempted to brush Sam’s concerns off.

“Yeah.” The brunet didn’t sound convinced.

“Come on.”

***

The next day, you and the Winchesters visited Jerry at his workplace to give him the final mission report. Jerry showed you and the boys out and escorted you to the Impala parked outside of the warehouse. 

“Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed,” he acknowledged. He shook your hand before turning to the boys. “Your dad's gonna be real proud.”

Sam gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile. “We'll see you around, Jerry.”

You turned to the car, as did Dean before he turned back to the older man. 

“You know, Jerry—" he began.

“Yeah.”

“I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway?” the young man continued. “I've only had it for like six months.”

“Your dad gave it to me,” Jerry explained simply.

“What?” Sam exclaimed in shock.

“When did you talk to him?” Dean questioned.

“I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call.” He took a pause. “Thanks again, guys— and gal,” he grinned.

“Bye, Jerry!” you called after him as he headed off.

“This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service,” Sam told his brother.

Dean dials what you assumed was his father’s number. However, instead of the out-of-service message Sam had described, a voicemail began to play.

The two boys leaned into the phone so they could hear it better.

You leaned over Sam’s shoulder, the voice hard to hear, but you were still able to make out the words. “This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.”

Sam fumed, shaking his head in frustration as he got in the car. He slammed the door behind him. You looked over to Dean, who did not meet your gaze. He got in the car following his brother. You took one last look at the setting sun as a plane flew over your head. 

“I fuckin’ hate flying,” you muttered.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

[virtualreader]

broken hearts and healing souls

deanwinchesterxfem!reader

summary: carrying the ruins of the broken heart the death of his father had left behind, Dean pushes you away, fearing hurting you as well. or perhaps he’s just scared of being hurt himself, one more time.

word count: 3,3k. (does not include lyrics)

warnings: alleged age gap, fierce anger, heated argument, drinking out of spite, supressed feelings, cursing, yelling, not the happiest end, and lots and lots of angst.

part 2

a/n: i started watching supernatural about a month ago and I'm loving it so far. and god, i couldn't help but fall truly, madly, deeply in love with dean winchester. this scenario came to my mind while listening someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic, so this one shot is based on this song. feedback is always appreciated. please, comment if you think I should write a part 2 to this one!

"You can't boss me around, Dean! I'm not a child anymore!" you barked at the hunter standing by the motel room's door.

"I can't? Watch me!" Dean retorted, breathing heavily and extending his arms upward to appear bigger. "As the eldest here, it's my call to make the hard decisions. And I've decided that you won't come on any more hunts, end of story. You're risking your life out there—it's dangerous, y/n. What's not clear about that?!"

You and Dean had been arguing for a while. He came into the motel room the three of you—Sam, Dean and yourself—were forced to share, stringently declaring you were not allowed to go with them on hunts anymore.

After the previous mission ended with you being kidnapped by the demon you were after and tied to a chair in an old building's basement, the oldest brother wasted no time in making a decision. Despite your eagerness to rid the world of evil, Dean prioritized your safety, even if you didn't see it that way.

Dean Winchester was an undaunted and confident man, he had been since his mother died, he had to be, for his family's sake, for his own sake. Yet, when it came to you, potential bad outcomes constantly assaulted his mind. He could not afford to lose another loved one, so he did not take a gamble.

"It is my life that I am endangering, so I strongly believe that I get to choose whether I want to expose myself to hunting hazards or not. You are not my dad and cannot give me orders, Winchester!" you declared, raising your voice with anger and trembling as you pointed your index finger at him.

You were hurt and confused. Hunting had been your life for as long as you could remember and now he was taking that away from you. You tried to plead your case, but he had already made up his mind.

In response to your defiance, Dean raised his chin, pursed his lips, and clenched his jaw. Yet, even in his anger, he maintained steady eye contact with you. It was clear he was not going to back down easily.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he queried exasperated. “That demon back there, could have killed you, and you know that. This is not some inoffensive deer we’re going after.”

He was undoubtedly referring to the incident that happened earlier that day, when he was able to free you from the grasp of the demon. It was the same demon that mercilessly took your father’s life, leaving you fatherless at the tender age of twelve and subsequently placed under the care of the Winchesters.

Growing up with them, you learned to navigate the dangerous world of hunting and the supernatural. From hours-long road trips and campfires to cozy movie-evenings and pancake Sundays, your memories with your new family included a wide variety of experiences that left a lasting impact on you.

The bond you formed with the Winchesters was one built on mutual respect and a shared purpose, making them more than just your guardians; they were your family, and you were theirs.

"God, what a pig-headed dude you are," you muttered, oozing frustration, as you let out a peeved sigh. "So you, old man, can risk being killed by these heartless creatures, but I can't? Is it just because I'm younger than you guys? ‘Cause I already told you, I am as much of an adult as you are.”

Clearly, you would not be swayed by Dean's demands. You were your own person, with your own will and your own desires. You were determined to stand up for yourself and live your life on your own terms.

He took a moment to observe your bruised appearance as he pondered his answer. The blood that had previously emerged from the wound above your eyebrow was already dry, while the cut on your lip was still struggling to form a scab.

He noticed the swelling around your left eye, a tell-tale sign of the force of the blow that had landed on your face. And as he looked at you, he could not help but feel responsible for your emaciated state.

"If you're such an adult, you'll be fine on your own. You don't need me, do you?" the hunter sassed back, towering over you, tilting his head and upturning his brows.

Dean's words hurt you deeply, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. But you refused to let him see you cry. You straightened your back and met his gaze with a fierce determination.

"Do you want me to leave?” you said, your voice shaking a little. “Fine. If that's what you want, I'll leave. But don't expect me to come back."

You walked past him, feeling his eyes on your back. You didn't turn around, didn't give in to the urge to look at him again. You needed to be strong, to show him that you could make it on your own. But deep down, you knew that you didn't want to be alone. You needed Dean, more than you wanted to admit.

"Hey, girl!" you called out to the waitress, raising your voice above the noise of the tavern to get her attention. "Can I get a refill, please?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Too lost and hurting to carry your load We all need someone to hold

As you waited for your drink, you couldn't help but replay the argument with Dean in your mind. You felt hurt and betrayed by his words. You were mad at him for not understanding your desire to be by his side, no matter the risks.

You were lost in thought when a voice snapped you out of your reverie.

"Rough night?" inquired a gold-haired man as he took a seat on the adjoining stool.

The man seemed to be a bit younger than Dean, possibly in his mid-twenties, closer to your own age. He wore a white crewneck t-shirt that hugged his muscular arms around the biceps, and his dark slim fit jeans matched the black pattern printed on his shirt's front.

It was difficult to determine whether it was the effect of the second-rate alcohol or your personal taste in men, but it was safe to say he was far from unattractive and he was, in fact, quite handsome.

"You could say so." you answered his question with a touch of apathy but still flashed a slight smile his way.

You've been fighting the memory, all on your own Nothing worsens, nothing grows I know how it feels being by yourself in the rain We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

The man took a slow, deliberate sip from his beer bottle and leaned back, his eyes fixed intently on you. His gaze seemed to linger for a moment, as if he were trying to gauge your reaction to what he had just said.

"You know," he said, his voice low and suggestive, "I can make it better for you, pretty."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks at the man's brazen suggestion, and you couldn't help but feel a little intrigued by his offer.

You glanced around the dimly lit tavern, taking in the smoky air and the clinking of glasses. It was the kind of place where people came to drown their sorrows and forget about the troubles of the day-to-day life. And in that moment, you couldn't help but feel like you were just another lost soul adrift in the sea of humanity.

The man's eyes were still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be waiting for your response, as if he knew that his offer had the power to change the course of your night—or maybe even your life.

You took a deep breath and met his gaze head-on, feeling a sense of daring that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

The man smiled, a slow, confident grin that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Let's just say that I know a thing or two about making a woman feel good," he replied, his voice dripping with innuendo.

It was abundantly clear what his intentions were at this point in time, and to be entirely candid, it did not annoy you at all.

You eagerly accepted the charming man's alluring offer. And with a sense of anticipation, you followed him out of the sleazy bar, seeking shelter from the gentle patter of the light rain under the protective eaves.

As you walked alongside him, you found yourself captivated by his confident stride and the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light emanating from the street lamps.

You could feel his hand slowly making its way towards your hip, until it rested there, just barely grazing the upper part of your buttocks. This subtle touch sent a sparkling feeling coursing through your body, starting from the core and reaching all the way up to your chest. It created a warm whirlwind of expectancy, causing your heart to beat faster in anticipation.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice asked, a hint of pain in it.

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day you were helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

Dean narrowed his eyes, anguishedly taking in the sight in front of him.

As you stood there, drenched from the rain and your mind clouded by the alcohol, Dean's sudden appearance caught you off guard. He was directly facing you, his eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the pain and anger etched upon his features.

"What the hell are you doing here, y/n?" Dean asked incredulously, his voice laced with anger and hurt. “And who the fuck is that jerk?”

You froze, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. You had been so caught up in your own emotions that you hadn't even considered how your actions might affect Dean.

You've drunk it down and you've spat it out And nothing tastes like the things you had So tear it off, why don't you let them go? We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

"I didn't know she was taken, mate. I didn't mean to meddle in your relationship," the guy standing next to you apologized, his voice trembling as Dean's contempting gaze threatened to pierce his soul. Green eyes—usually a symbol of grace—had never held such a look of hatred. “She’s all yours, mate.”

Once the man marched back into the tavern, with tail between legs, the hunter’s emerald orbs landed on you. And as he beamed down at you, you noticed how much woe his gaze held. He wasn’t someone to let his emotions surface, not at all, that would leave his feelings too exposed, too unguarded.

He didn't seem to mind the rain dribbling over his leather jacket or his well-styled hair as he approached you. Although you had a defiant demeanor, you took a step backward in response, and your back met the wall covered in graffiti.

“Thought you said ‘I’d be fine on my own’.” you tried to sound confident as you quoted him, yet the alcohol running through your veins caused your words to slur together.

"Yeah, I said on your own! Not with some opportunistic macho man!" he said, referring to your previous companion.

He looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and anger, his eyes scanning your face as if he was trying to find some kind of explanation for what he was seeing.

And then, his anger boiled over, and he let out a shout that echoed through the empty streets. "No way. Are you fucking drunk?!" he yelled. "Are you nuts?!"

The force of his outburst hit you like a physical blow, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You had never seen Dean like this before, and it was clear that he was at his breaking point.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other in silence, the rain pouring down around you like a curtain. And then, slowly, you began to speak, your words tumbling out of you in a jumbled mess.

"You're one to talk. You, my dear friend, are the very reason I'm here, drinking my sorrows away." you scoffed at him.

Your eyes darted around, looking at anything but Dean. You felt intimidated—what with Dean’s tall figure and the disappointment you could discern in his expression.

“Drinking won’t solve anything, y/n. You know better than this.”

"Do I really?” you uttered, struggling to keep at bay your wobbly lip. “Last time I checked, I was just a kid to you.”

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

As the rain continued to fall, the rhythmic clattering of the water drops mixed with the sound of cars cruising over the wet pavement, creating an overwhelming melody.

The droplets seemed to grow in size and force. You welcomed the heavier rain, grateful for the way it obscured the tears that threatened to overflow from your eyes.

You knew that if he saw you crying, he would only see you as weak and immature, even more than he already saw you. You had always been strong and independent, and you didn't want him to think any less of you.

So you stood there, letting the rain soak into your clothes and hair, hoping that it would wash away the pain and sorrow you felt inside.

“I don’t think of you as a kid. I just prefer you staying away from those creatures. You know better than anyone what that demon is capable of. It killed your father, and you could’ve died today too, y/n!”

“Do not act like you care! And do not dare mentioning my dad ever again! You are too self-centered to take others’ needs into account.”

With a trembling voice, you lashed out at Dean, your emotions running high and your patience wearing thin. You couldn't stand the way Dean tried to control your life, always telling you what to do and what not to do.

You had grown up fast in the world of hunting, learning to fend for yourself and to take care of others. You had seen things that most people couldn't even imagine, and you had faced danger and death head-on. You were not some delicate flower that needed to be protected at all costs.

And yet, Dean seemed to think otherwise. He was always trying to shield you from harm, even if it meant keeping you from doing what you loved most.

"Do you even hear yourself, Dean?" you continued, your voice rising with every word. "You act like you're the only one who knows what's best for me. You don't trust me to make my own decisions, although I've been hunting just as long as you have. You're so wrapped up in your own fears and insecurities that you can't see how much you're hurting me."

"You're part of my family now, and as such, I must protect you," Dean declared, helplessness building up inside his chest. "Why do you find it so hard to understand?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Hear the falling and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? The end of the day and we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me?

“I-…Just…leave me alone. Please, Dean.”

And it was then when, acting on your most primitive impulses, you took off, walking away from Dean with no determined destination.

It was not that you were afraid of Dean, no, you had spent too many years among the Winchesters to know he would never voluntarily hurt you, at least not physically. You found him sort of intimidating, more like it.

It was well known among the Winchesters' acquaintances that Dean, although not often, could become livid if you pressed the right buttons. And no one would ever want that fatal rage to be directed at them, unless they wanted to know what hell felt like.

However, the emotion the hunter was feeling now was not anger. It was something else, something both mysterious and intriguing. Although his muscles remained tight, his eyes shone with unshed tears, and a pinched expression was plastered on his face.

You fought against the urge to turn back and run into his embrace, to apologize to him and leave this dispute behind. It was a struggle to hold onto your never-so-fragile pride when your love for him had never felt as powerful as it did now. Not since you had first fallen in love with him, at least, back when you were a silly, naive teenager.

A hand grabbed firmly onto your arm, forcing you into a halt. You did not have the courage to turn around and face him with a trail of tears cascading over your cheeks, even if the drizzling rain disguised it somewhat. There was no need for that, however, when he began speaking, not waiting for you to look at him.

"I'm sorry, y/n," he apologized in a small voice, unaccustomed to saying such words. "I didn't mean to push you away. I... I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you. I'm scared, y/n. Scared of losing you like I lost my father, like I lost my mother," Dean confessed, his voice softening, dropping in pitch.

You turned to look at him, really look at him, and saw the pain and fear written in his face.

You felt a lump form in your throat at the raw emotion in Dean's words. You had always known that he cared about you, but you had never realized just how much you meant to him.

"Dean," you said, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his arm. "I'm not going to die. I'm strong, and I know how to take care of myself. But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me make my own decisions, even if it means taking risks sometimes."

You stopped, taking a big deep breath before continuing.

“What you said back at the motel, it hurt me, a lot. I have nothing left, Dean. My family is dead, I have no place to stay, no job, no nothing. I’ve lost everything.”

“You have me.” He took a step towards you, getting closer, and caressed your feathery cheek with his large hand. “You always have and always will have me.”

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

Dean wiped away a tear from your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin softly. "I'm sorry for pushing you away, y/n. I was just so afraid of losing you. But I promise, from now on, I'll trust you to make your own decisions. We'll face everything together, as a team."

A turmoil of heartfelt emotions whirled its way down to your very core as Dean's words sank in. And, as you looked up at him, you saw the love and devotion in his eyes, and you felt grateful like never before to the Winchesters for taking you in.

Seizing the proximity, you took a moment to admire him. The softness on his eyes only adding to his already perfectly alluring features. The green orbs standing out his face had never shone as bright, and his nose glowed as red as his eyes, probably from the cold air of the drizzly night.

Yet the part you spent the longest time observing was his lips. Sultry pouty lips, that rested slightly parted.

And as if in a dream, he leaned in intertwining his lips with yours in a genuine kiss. Sliding the hand that previously laid on your cheek to the back of your neck, bringing you nearer to his own body.

His grip was both firm and steady, but no less gentle, just so as if he never wanted to let go of you. Your movements kept in step with each other's, as your mouths melted in a much-needed dance.

None of you cared about the rain soaking your clothes or the idling engine of the precious impala of Dean’s, nor about the small crowd by the tavern’s entrance looking at you. You were in a deep immersion into the depths of the moment, and all you saw, all you could regard was the man in front of you - the man you’ve always loved.

The idyllic moment was short-lived, much to your dismay, as Dean pulled away and apprehensively took a step backwards. But the pain you felt then was nothing compared to the stabbing sensation in your heart when he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I'm sorry. This was a mistake."

part 2

#dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural #spn #hbo supernatural #the winchester brothers #supernatural fanfiction #dean supernatural #sam winchester #supernatural fandom #spnfandom #sam and dean #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x reader fluff

[shy-taylorsversion]

Want You Back | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Inspired by Want You Back by Maisie Peters

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Over a year ago, Y/n started hunting with the boys. Her and Dean's friendship became more than anything she ever had before. Then he hurt her like never before. The worst part was she didn't really care.

Takes place somewhere in season 6 after Sam got his soul back. Flashbacks are during season five.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing (minimal), canon-level violence, few innuendos, and mentions of things. Reader is kinda sad and desperate. Angst. no happy ending :(

A/N: Hi!! After a year of trying to write a complete fic to post, I finally did it. Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors, I relied on Grammarly lol Also I had no idea how to write the action scenes but tried my best. I really don't know if this is worth much but I had so much fun writing sooo I hope you enjoy it!! (gif not mine)

March 2010

  Y/n’s phone buzzed, drawing her attention from the hunter drunkenly blabbering in her ear. They’d just wrapped up a quick hunt, a werewolf somewhere in northern Montana. She didn’t even really know the guy but Bobby had given him her number to ask for help. She agreed, not really having anything more to do. He was fine for a hunter, other than he never shut up and was getting too handsy for her liking, and him being on his fifth drink wasn’t helping. 

She opened the message, not recognizing the number. Bobby had to stop handing it out to whoever.  

           “Hey, Sweetheart. Whatcha up to?”  

The phone fell into her lap. There was only one person she ever let get away with calling her that, or anything really, and he didn’t come around often. 

           “Depends, who is this?”  

    The response was almost immediate. 

          “Don’t do me like that, Y/n”

 She could almost see his stupid grin on the screen and had to look away to control the heat rising in her face. Within five seconds and two texts, Dean Winchester had turned her into a giggling schoolgirl with a crush. 

          “I’m at a bar, what do you want?” 

         “Ah, a girl after my own heart. Which one? I wanna see you.” 

In any other universe, she would have assumed he had ulterior motives. She had the first few times she’d received that text but ended up spending the night hiding her disappointment. He only wanted to see her. He’d meet with her wherever she was. A bar, a motel, a diner.   

They’d spend hours talking about everything. She’d tell him stories of her recent hunts and the hunters she was stuck helping. He’d tell her of whatever they’d been facing. On rare occasions, when it was super late and they were sprawled on her bed, in a half-drunken stupor, he’d tell her about Sam or their dad. He’d mention their childhood and what he was put through. One night, he even mentioned a girl named Cassie, he skirted around details but Y/n understood. 

   They’d fall asleep like that, on top of the covers of a dirty motel bed. The next morning, he’d take her to breakfast, hug her goodbye, and then he was gone. 

     Her phone buzzed in her hand again. 

       “I miss you.” 

Her blood ran cold as she stared at the screen. He’d definitely never said that before. They just never went there and maybe this wasn’t him going there but it was different. Without another thought, she sent him the address. 

Present, April 2011

  “What Dean did wasn’t ok, you know that right?” Sam said through the phone. “He never should’ve left like that. We just really could use your and Bobby’s help on this case.” 

  Y/n sighed in response. What could she even say? That she knew, that she understood. That it still didn’t matter because even through all of the anger and hurt, she’d take him back tomorrow. 

  Not that he’d ever actually been hers. It was only half a spring, barely two months. 

It didn’t matter either way. There was a job to be done and she had to do it. She could put her feelings aside for a few days. 

 “He always left like that, not like I’m surprised.”  

   “Look, I’ve gotta go but please, Y/n, call us if you need anything. We’ll be there soon.“ 

 “Bye, Sam.” 

  The call ended, leaving Y/n leaning against the railing of Bobby’s porch. The early spring wind whipped around her and she hugged her flannel closer, looking out onto the empty road. 

   It had been over a year since she’d seen either of them. She knew of everything that happened to them. Sam going to hell and coming back without a soul. Dean, living a normal life for over a year with a woman and her kid. 

 Y/n didn’t know her, only hearing about the situation from Sam and Bobby in passing. She knew her name was Lisa and that Dean cared for her. Maybe more. She knew that Dean had promised Sam to live a normal life after he jumped into the cage. And she was happy that he got a year of peace. She was. 

   She could picture him helping in the kitchen, wearing an apron with flour smeared across his face. He’d probably set up family movie nights and weekend outings and birthday dinners. He’d been happy and okay. Against all odds, he had gotten out. 

    That didn’t stop the wave of hurt that washed over at the thought of him, all domestic and soft.  

 The click of the door opening pulled her out of her thoughts. Bobby stood there, a knowing look on his face.  

     “C’mon kid, let’s see if we can figure out something before those boys get here.” 

A few hours later, Y/n stared at the book in her lap. She’d been rereading the same paragraph for thirty minutes. Every time she’d get drawn into the book, the house would creak or the wind would blow and she’d be snapped out of it. 

   She kept waiting for the door to open, for footsteps to trail down the foyer and into the living room. She couldn’t even begin to prepare for what the next few days were going to be like. Her only plan was to act as normal as possible, which was already proving to be difficult. 

  A pit formed in her stomach, there was a lump in her throat and her head was clouded. The whole room was hazy and it felt like she was watching herself exist.

    She didn’t even realize she was crying until something wet hit her hands and slid onto her jeans. She quickly wiped her eyes and tried to focus on the book again. The lines blurred together as more tears filled her eyes.  

    God, she was sitting here crying over some guy. She was a grown woman, she had to get over this. It was pathetic at this point. 

   “You know, what Dean did was wrong. Leaving like that, not telling you what happening.” Bobby said, walking into the room, a stack of books in his hands. “I love the kid but he’s a real dick sometimes.”

       He meant well but she swore if one more person said that Dean had done bad, she was going to go crazy. 

    She knew that. More than anyone, she knew. She was the one who spent months hunting with him, helping him and Sam figure out how to save the damn world. They’d spent nights wrapped up in each other, more than ever before. Farther than before.  

  She was the one who woke up to an empty bed with no trace of him anywhere. He never responded to a call or a text. Never even let her know he was alive. 

  He’d left like an assassin. 

   Part of her couldn’t even blame him. It probably had been for the best because if he’d told her what the plan had been, she’d have begged. 

     In the end, he’d got to be a coward and she salvaged some amount of self-respect. 

 “I know, Bobby.” She said, giving him a small smile, “I know.” 

The door creaked causing Y/n to jump, earning her a concerned look from Bobby. 

  She smiled at him again, trying to reassure him. She could tell he’d been worried about her lately. He was justified in it. She’d been on edge and closed off for the last year and a half. 

   She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She’d known these boys for the better part of her life, it wasn’t a big deal. 

     Sam rounded the corner first, entering with a slight grin. His eyes immediately found hers and without warning he pulled her off the couch and into his arms. 

   Y/n let out a surprised laugh as her feet dangled off the ground and the life was squeezed out of her.  

   “I missed you too, Sam.” She said, unable to hold back more laughter, “Put me down now.” 

   Her feet hit the floor and Sam stepped back. She looked him over, still smiling. 

     “I’m so glad you’re back.” 

   “Yeah, me too.” 

A set of footsteps grew louder causing Y/n to look up, only for her to meet two green eyes. 

  The breath was knocked out of her and she was all too aware of the pit in her stomach again. 

Ignoring the pairs of eyes on her, She spun on her heel to face Bobby.   

    “Let’s get started?” 

March 2010 

“I call shotgun!” Y/n yelled as they walked out of the diner and took off towards the Impala.

   She was probably being unfair. She’d barely shared the passenger side in the few weeks she’d been with the boys. Sam was getting huffy about it, she could tell but she enjoyed the view more from the front.  Sitting in the back she’d miss the way Dean’s hands looked gripping the steering wheel, the way his lips moved as he mouthed the lyrics to whatever was on the radio, or the way his eyes would flicker to hers for just a split second. 

 Dean had also finally let her DJ and she didn’t plan on giving that rare privilege away anytime soon.

   “C'mon, dude. It's my turn.” Sam whined, “My legs are starting to cramp.” 

Sam beat her to the car which wasn’t surprising since he was literally the size of one. She was close to giving in when an arm landed on her shoulder. Dean nudged Sam out of the way, ignoring his protests, and opened the door. 

     “Sorry, Sammy.”  Dean’s eyes never left hers as she slid into the seat, “Need my Darlin’ by my side.” 

Present, April 2011

   Cracked wooden planks creaked under Y/n’s feet as she followed the boys and Bobby into the abandoned house. It was pitch black. She blinked her eyes, trying to adapt to the lack of lighting.  

According to Sam, a nest of vamps had been holed up there for weeks. They’d started leaving a trail of bodies, teens who’d come through as a dare or curiosity. She didn’t know the exact numbers racked up in that time but it was enough for Sam and Dean to ask for help. 

   Dean motioned for them to split up, two taking the downstairs and two going up. She went to follow behind Sam who had taken off into the next room but Bobby beat her to it. She would’ve fought back but it wasn’t exactly like she could cause a scene right then. 

   She followed Dean up the stairs, cringing every time the stairs groaned underneath their feet. 

Dean slowed as he hit the final step before a long, dark hallway. Y/n was a step behind him. His body nearly covered her. She shifted to the side to peer around him. 

  Both raised their machetes, trying to keep their breathing quiet as they waited for any sign of movement.

    A crash came from down the hall. Dean started towards the sound, Y/n following close behind. The complete darkness put them on edge. Being minus one sense in a house of at least ten fanged bastards, not fun. 

      The floorboard creaked behind her causing her to flip around, just in time to dodge the first vampire of the night. 

       She swung her machete, hitting its arm. Distracted, she brought down the weapon. Its head hit the floor. 

        Dean yelled out from behind her. She flung herself around to hear him fighting off, what she guessed was three on his own. Her presence seemed to catch the attention of one of them because it charged at her. 

   She dodged, the vamp lunged again grabbing her by the arm. She twisted out of its grasp. Using the angle to her advantage, she swiped her leg around, knocking it off balance. Its head rolled away as its body hit the ground. 

     She wiped the sweat from her forehead and turned to try to find Dean. She still couldn’t see him but she could hear him panting a few feet away.

She was yanked forward. Hands gripped her forearms tight enough to leave bruises and slammed into the wall. Her head buzzed on impact and she forced herself to stay upright. Its fangs grazed her neck and then its head dropped to the floor. 

   Dean stood in front of her, so close she could feel him breathing, rather than hearing it. Without thinking, she reached out to him and landed on his arm. She went to pull away but his other hand grasped her wrist, holding her in place. 

“Thanks.” She breathed, “You good?” 

“Yeah, You?” 

She wished she could see him, make sure he was being truthful. He didn’t exactly have the best track record with honesty. But in the dark, she had no choice but to trust him. 

    “I’m fine.” There were definitely bruises forming in her arms and her head was still spinning but she’d had worse.  

   Dean’s hand dropped her wrist. She ignored the deflated feeling in her chest and dropped her arm back to her side. 

  Without warning, he ran his hands over her arms and up her shoulders. She tried to pull away but he didn’t stop. 

    “What are you doing?” She whisper-yelled. 

“I literally heard you hit the wall, Y/n,” He said, running his hands over her head, checking for any bumps. 

“I am fine.”  She tried to swat him away but he grabbed her wrists mid-air and pulled them to his chest.  

    The air was humid around them. She heard him panting. Leather and sweat invaded her senses. Any focus she had before vanished. 

He was here, touching her, after so long. 

  Silence enveloped them. The only noise was their panting. 

 This was wrong. Sam and Bobby were probably fighting for their life downstairs and here they were, doing whatever this was.

  She was about to pull away when a loud yell came from downstairs. 

   The moment was broken. They took off down the hallway and stairs. Staying close to not get lost in the dark. 

  They hit the last few steps as a vampire, charged at them. 

 Dean swung his machete and it fell to the floor.  

 They moved further into the first floor of the home, finding Sam and Bobby fighting off at least four vamps each.  

   They split up, him going to Bobby and her going to Sam.  

     None of the vampires were aware of her yet. She grabbed the syringe of deadman’s blood out of her pocket and plunged the needle into the closet to her. 

  Now they knew she was there.

 Two turned towards her giving Sam time to take down his remaining one. 

   Both charged at her, hissing. She ran in between them.She flipped around, slicing the blade in an arc. The one on her left doubled over at the impact. 

    She swung. 

The right one lunged at her. She pivoted and cut the blade up. 

Its head hit the floor. 

She looked around the room, a slight beam of moonlight flooded the house now. She made out Sam helping Bobby up from the floor, right as Dean took down the last vampire. 

   The room was silent other than everyone trying to catch their breath.  

Dean’s eyes found hers. She forced herself to look away. Sam interrupted the non-moment. 

“Time for drinks?” 

Y/n and the boys decided to go out. They were leaving soon but everyone needed time to wash off and get ready. 

   She dragged the black liner across her eyelid, double-checking to see if it smeared the shimmery brown eyeshadow she’d already put on. The cracks in the old mirror made it kind of hard to perfect the make-up but it would have to do.  She already changed from her bloodied hunting clothes into a clean pair of jeans with a simple tank top. She didn’t own much and traveled with less. 

“Broke mirrors are bad luck, ya know?”  

  Dean leaned against the doorframe, flannel pulled taut around his crossed arms. 

She ignored the pit that had reappeared in her stomach and continued applying her lipstick. She flipped through ideas for a response. She could yell at him to get out or cry about how much he hurt her. Instead, she opted to act like nothing was wrong. 

   “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who broke it.”  She said, shoveling her makeup back into the bag, still never meeting his eye. She stood and gathered the rest of her stuff into a neat pile on her bed. Her back was completely towards him. 

    She heard him walk into the room and the door clicked shut. 

“Y/n, look at me.”  

She turned around and looked up at him. Her eyebrows raised like he was boring her. In reality, she was struggling to breathe. Her hands shook and a lump was stuck in her throat.  

 Her eyes glanced over his face. His jaw was set but eyes were soft.  She knew where this was going. 

  Dean took a deep breath before starting.  

“Look, what I did-” 

“Do not finish that sentence, Dean Winchester.” She spat. 

“I just-”

“No. You don’t get to say anything. You don’t get to say that what you did was wrong or how sorry you are. You don’t think I don’t know that what you did was wrong? Everyone keeps telling me that. Bobby, Sam and now you. They kept telling me how horrible of you that was like it wasn’t me. Like I wasn’t the one who spent months with you, like I didn't help you figure out how to stop the fucking apocalypse. Like I didn’t stitch you up after every hunt or spend every car ride next to you. Like I wasn’t the one who would hold you after you woke up screaming or it wasn’t me who spent every single night in your fucking sheets.” 

 Every ounce of refrain she’d worked to keep was gone. Hot tears were streaming down her face as her eyes bored into his. He didn’t try to interrupt her but his jaw twitched and body tensed. 

  “Like it wasn’t me who woke up two months later to an empty bed. You were gone, Dean. You left without a word. No text, no note. Nothing. You fucking left me. And then I found out you were with some other girl for a year? So yeah, I know that what you did was bad.” 

Somewhere in her speech, she’d moved close enough for their chest to touch. Her finger was stabbing into his chest.  He didn’t move, was barely breathing but she wasn’t finished. 

   “Maybe it was cheap to you, or maybe it was some fling to pass the time but it was real to me. It was all I had. You were all I had.” Her voice broke at the last word and she dropped her hand. Her head fell as she cried. Over a year of built-up heartbreak exploding in one moment was too much. 

     His hand found hers and placed it back on his chest. She looked back up at him, his other hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes as his thumb wiped away the remaining tears. 

    “Do you want to know what the worst part is?” She whispered, eyes still shut. “I’d be yours again if you wanted. If you asked. How pathetic is that?” 

      “Y/n.” 

She opened her eyes to look at him despite her embarrassment.  

  “You are anything but cheap or pathetic.” His voice was thick and his eyes were glassy. She’d seen him in so many different states but she’d never seen so much emotion written across his face. 

   “Ask me then. Ask me to come with you.” 

His expression darkened and he dropped his hand from her face. He took a step back and looked away. 

   “It’s not that easy.” He said, shaking his head. “It's never that easy.” 

She let out a bitter laugh. 

 She wasn’t even surprised. She should’ve been disappointed or furious but she was just over it. She was tired and desperate. And if she couldn’t have him, he needed to go. 

  She wiped a hand down her face and glanced back into the mirror assessing the damage her outburst caused. She started wiping off the messed-up liner before starting to reapply. Dean stood behind her, brows furrowed in confusion. 

    “Get out.” She said without hesitation, her voice as steady as possible.  

He opened his mouth as if to speak but shut it. He walked towards the door but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. 

   “For what it's worth, I am sorry.” 

The buzz of conversation filled the packed-out bar. Sam found them a small booth in the corner and was now talking about a new piece of lore he’d found about some Egyptian god. Most of the time, she loved hearing what he had to say but right now all she could focus on was Dean's hand trailing up and down the woman’s hip. He never even sat down with them, finding himself a spot at the bar, next to a pretty blonde. She’d watched for half an hour now as he grinned at the girl, whispered in her ear, and bought her a drink. 

  She wanted to puke or cry or both. She decided to get drunk instead. 

She went to take a sip of her beer only to realize it was empty. Motioning to Sam she was going to get another, she slid out of the booth and made her way to the opposite side of the bar from Dean. 

   She planned to order a shot of some vodka and another beer but she couldn’t catch the attention of either bartender.

  A body bumped up against hers causing her to stumble. A hand wrapped around her waist to catch her. She almost jerked away but she looked up to find a familiarly unfamiliar pair of dark green eyes and dark blonde hair.  

   The man was by far the prettiest she’d seen all night. 

 “I am so sorry, It's packed in here. Isn’t it?  Nowhere to stand.” He had a slight southern drawl and a boyish charm about him. 

 “It is. Can’t seem to even order a drink.”  She smiled at him.

 “You see, now that had to be fate or something because I was just wantin’ to buy you one.” He grinned and waited, almost seeing if she’d allow it. His hand was still on her but she found she didn’t really mind. 

 The room was fuzzy and she could only make out the man in front of her. Even then, he was a little hazy and she had no idea what he was saying, only that his mouth looked pretty as he said it.    

  Y/n didn’t know how long it’d been since the handsome stranger volunteered to feed into her night of drunkenness or even how many she’d had so far. She vaguely remembered him buying her the first shot and then the second and maybe a third. They made small talk, she gave some bullshit story about what she did for work and where she was from. Somewhere in between she had a fourth, fifth, and sixth one. 

 And somewhere between the seventh and now, she’d lost track of Dean. She didn’t even know if he was still there. She did know that the new guy made her feel ok, at least for now. His hands never left her and the drinks never seemed to end.

  She could barely remember the events of the day. Maybe by tomorrow, she wouldn’t remember any of it, or at least a girl could hope.

But right now, she didn’t feel like crying or throwing up as long as she didn’t think of it. 

   She decided in her drunken haze that maybe this was what she needed. So when the stranger asked her if she wanted to leave, she agreed. And when he leaned down to kiss her, she let him.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester songfic #dean winchester

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Another Classic Rock Fan

masterlist

summary : a broken jukebox leads dean to a woman who’s so much like him that she sweeps him off his feet.

pairing : (earlier seasons) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language, sexual themes (?)

word count : 1.7k

warnings: language, implied sex/nudity, violence

gif source

“Son of a bitch!” You muttered, hitting the side of the jukebox, as if that would suddenly fix the (clearly half-a-century-old) machine in front of you.

“I tried that ten minutes ago sweetheart, it doesn’t do much,” A man’s voice said behind you.

“Well, maybe you didn't hit it right!” You exclaimed, hitting it again but in a different spot.

“What song are you trying to play?” He asked.

“AC/DC, You Shook Me All Night Long. And, before you say anything; if you want a shot at getting in my pants tonight don’t you dare disrespect that band,” You replied before you finally turned around to look at the man. “Or any of the classics, while you're at it.” He was taller than you, with brown hair and light brown eyes that stared down at you. The room was dark, but you could see a smirk form on his full lips when he saw your face.

“Hey, I wouldn’t dream of it!” He held up his hands in defense. “I’m an AC/DC fan myself.”

“Favorite song?” You quizzed, narrowing your gaze.

“Trick question, they’re all great,” He shrugged a little.

“Correct,” You nodded. “List some songs though.”

“Thunderstruck, Sin City, Girls Got Rhythm, Let There Be Rock; should I keep going?”

“No, I believe you're a fan,” You laughed, letting your guard down a little.

“So baby,” He smirked, “what’s the going price?”

Your smile disappeared and you stared daggers at him. “Go to hell!” You exclaimed before you brushed past him, intentionally bumping into his shoulder as you did so.

“Wait- That’s- Shit,” He stuttered, regretting what he said.

You turned around, a childish smile now on your face as you looked up at him; “Shot Down In Flames, nice job. You really thought I didn’t get the reference?”

“I really thought,” He laughed lightly. “Let me buy you a drink?”

“Sure,” You turned back around and he followed you to the counter. You could feel him staring down at your ass and you smirked a little; you wore your jeans that accented that feature for a reason.

“I’m Dean, by the way,” He smiled when the two of you sat down. “What’re you drinking?”

“I’m Y/n, and just a beer’s fine.”

“So, is there a reason you’re alone at a bar on a Thursday night?” He asked, motioning the bartender toward you. He then ordered two beers.

“I’m in town for work, don’t really know anyone here,” You shrugged and took a sip of the beer.

“Me too, actually,” Dean responded.

“Really? What kinda work?”

“Law enforcement.”

“Would not take you for a cop,” You nodded in response.

“So, who got you into AC/DC?” He asked, wanting to change the subject.

“My mom traveled for work so my little sister and I were stuck in the car a lot. My mom loved classic rock. It’s all she ever played for us, really.”

“No way! My dad was the same way! Traveled for work, loved the classics, played ‘em for me and my little brother all the time!” He exclaimed, both of you smiling widely.

The two of you talked about nothing in particular for another twenty or so minutes, Dean making the occasional flirty joke about taking you to his motel room.

**

“Oh my god!” Sam exclaimed, covering his eyes in a hurry.

“Sam, what the hell! Knock!” Dean huffed back as you hurried to cover yourself with the sheets. Dean stood up, still wearing boxers, and you sat up in the bed.

“Wait, you’re Sam?” You furrowed your brows. “And you’re Dean. The Impala in the parking lot…shit. You’re not- You’re not the Winchesters, right?”

“How’d you know that?” Dean asked.

You covered your face with your hands and groaned; “Oh my god! You must be working the case here! The four women drained of blood?”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Dean repeated, his voice now raised a little.

“Calm down, I’m a hunter,” You sighed. “I’m here working the case too, it’s clearly a vampire!”

“You’re a hunter?” Dean affirmed.

“What, you didn’t see the anti-possession tattoo?”

“No, I definitely did,” He smirked.

You looked up at him, a smirk finding its way onto your lips as well. You stood up, holding the sheet like a towel wrapped around you. “So, why don’t we work the case together?” You said, placing an open hand on his heaving chest.

He took your face in his hands and replied, “Of course,” before he kissed you.

Sam cleared his throat obnoxiously before he exclaimed; “Four dead bodies? Possible vampire nest? Impending doom? Any of this ringing a bell?”

“Sammy-” Dean started.

“Come back in about fifteen minutes, okay?” You told the taller man and then kissed Dean again. Sam got out of the room in a hurry so as not to see what the quickly escalating situation would become.

**

“I’m Agent Jovi, this is my partner Agent Sambora,” Sam and Dean flashed their badges as you did the same.

“And I’m Agent Paula Stanley,” You added to Dean’s introduction. Dean looked at you as if with awe as you simply continued with the conversation. “Could you take us to the bodies, please?”

“Right this way,” The doctor replied. You followed him to the morgue, Dean’s eyes glued to your ass as you walked away.

“Dean?” Sam interrupted his train of thought.

“What?” Dean exclaimed, clearly out of sorts and still very distracted.

“God, you are a mess!” Sam joked, Dean just looked at him with confusion. “C’mon, you’re practically drooling over this girl!” He laughed lightly.

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Well, she- She’s just-” Dean scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I got nothing.”

“Dude, it’s okay. Just, ask her out after the case, please? We’ve got lives to save,” He patted Dean’s shoulder before they both walked into the morgue as the doctor walked out.

“Hey, does this girl look familiar?” You scrunched your eyebrows and looked at the newest vampire kill; the fifth vampire kill.

“No, does she look familiar to you?” Sam asked. He took a look at the toe tag, “Silvia Mortenson?”

“Oh my god, she was at the bar last night! I’m sure of it!”

“Did you see her leave with anyone?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, uh this man; he struck out with me,” You inhaled sharply, “so he went to talk to her.”

“That’s when you went for the jukebox,” Dean nodded.

“Yeah- Wait, were you watching me?” You questioned, a slight teasing tone in your voice.

“I may have had my eyes on the ridiculously hot woman in the Kiss tank top,” He smirked.

“So, we know who it is. Now what, we watch him, see who he leaves with, and follow them?” Sam interrupted.

“Or, we do the smart thing,” You shrugged. The brothers looked at you with confusion. “Use me as bait, duh! I lure him out, let him take me to the nest, you two follow me and we take them down from the inside.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean shook his head. “That’s not happening.”

“Why not?” You asked.

“Uh, where do I start?” Dean scoffed. You slightly tilted your head, confused. “It’s way too dangerous! You could die!”

“We’re hunters, Dean; danger and death are kinda in the job description.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Dean trailed off, trying to think of a way to keep you out of immediate danger.

“Yep, we’re doing this,” You nodded.

**

“I’d like to take you up on that drink now,” You smirked, sitting next to the vampire. He had offered to buy you a beer the previous night, but you turned him down.

“What, you're not leaving with Leather Jacket again?” He replied, gesturing to Dean, who sat at the other end of the bar.

“Well, I’m not one to kiss and tell, but let’s just say I want a real man to rock my world tonight.”

**

He led you back to his motel where four other vampires were waiting. Sam and Dean rushed in after you, but you had already beheaded two of them. Sam got one, while Dean got the other. You walked up to the last one, the one you had followed here.

“And just so we’re clear, this man,” You pointed at Dean, keeping the machete in your hand ready, “is amazing in bed!” And you chopped the vamp’s head off. You turned to Sam and Dean, all three of you splattered with blood. “What?” You asked, seeing the shocked and confused looks on their faces.

“Gotta say, that’s the craziest way a woman has ever complimented me,” Dean smirked.

“Just setting the record straight,” You shrugged, smiling.

**

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Sam exclaimed when Dean walked into the room.

“I’m here to pack up before we hit the road?” He furrowed his brows before Sam rolled his eyes.

“So where’s Y/n, then?”

“She’s got her own room, second floor, why?”

“Did you get her number?”

“No…?”

“Are you an idiot?”

“Can you just get to the fuckin’ point?”

“Go ask her out before she leaves!” Sam exclaimed, seeing the gears in Dean’s head slowly turning before he left the room.

**

“Can I ask you something?” Dean said, standing outside your motel room.

“Sure,” You shrugged a little. You opened the door further so he could go inside.

“Why’d you say that? To the vampire, I mean.”

“About you being good in bed?” He nodded. “Well, when I was flirting with him at the bar I had to lie and say you weren’t good in bed, so I figured I’d set the record straight before killing him.”

“Oh!” He let out a bit of a laugh. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Can I ask you something?” You asked. “What are you doing here? I thought the famous Dean Winchester was all about lovin’ and leavin’.”

“That’s what I’m famous for?”

“Well, that and you know, all the incredible hunter stuff.”

“I- I’m here to ask for your number.”

“Hunter phone, or personal?” You asked. (It was pretty common for hunters to have at least two phones - one for hunter contacts and one for friends/family.)

“Personal, is what I was hoping for.”

“Okay,” You smiled.

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

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Dean’s Girl

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: When you get in trouble, you know just where to turn.

Your big brother was more than just your big brother. He was your best friend, your confidant, the one who raised you, and the one constant in your life.

When your mom died, Dean was there. When Sam went to college, Dean was there. When dad disappeared, Dean was there.

But now, Dean wasn’t here, and you had no idea what to do.

You had just gone out to get some food, that was it! Dean and Sam had been hunting a vampire nest, and since you were out of food you were going to go steal some for the guys, knowing that when they got back they’d be hungry. The one time you tried to be useful, and you just ended up getting caught.

The worst part was that you hadn’t been caught right away. Nope, you’d run all the way to your hotel, and you’d hoped that you could get into your room before the cop saw which way you turned, but it didn’t work out like that. Instead, the officer caught you with one foot in the door, which meant that he saw the wall covered in pictures and clippings of the victims of the vampires your brothers were hunting.

That predicament led to this one; you sitting in an interrogation room, your hands handcuffed to the table. You tried to imagine how Dean would be in this situation; would he be sarcastic and ornery, or would he be stoic and silent?

Not that it mattered what he would do; it was all you could do to keep from going into a panic attack, you definitely couldn’t pass for sassy or stoic at the moment.

“You’ve got a lot to explain, kid.” That was the first thing the officer said to you after he stepped into the room. “Look, we know you didn’t kill those people. But we also know that you checked in with a couple of men, right? Well we can get you off the stealing charges if you tell us what they did.”

“I want my phone call.” You didn’t even acknowledge the man’s words; the only thing you’d been able to think about since the second you got caught was ‘I need Dean.’

“Well maybe if you gave me some information I could arrange that for you.”

“I want my phone call.”

“I understand that.” The officer’s voice rose in agitation. “But I need you to tell me what those men did.”

You again ignored his words. You didn’t—couldn’t—think of anything but your big brother right now.

“I want my phone call.”

…

“Y/N? Gosh, kid, we’ve been calling you! Where—“

“De-Dean I’m so sorry,” you whimpered. “I-I didn’t mean to, I just—“

“Hey hey, slow down.” Dean’s voice lowered, trying to ease your panic. “It’s alright, we’re almost at the motel. Now—“

“No, no! Dean, don’t go back to the motel.”

“Why not? Baby, you’ve gotta tell me what’s going on.”

“I got—I got arrested,” you mumbled, blinking back tears.

“You what?! Y/N, what happened?”

“You can’t go back to the motel! They-they saw all the pictures, they’re waiting there!”

“Ok, ok baby we’re not, calm down. Me and Sammy are gonna figure it out, ok? We’ll come and get you. We might need a diversion, can you do that?”

“I-I…” your voice quavered when an officer returned to the room, tapping his watch.

“Y/N, listen! I need you to pull yourself together, ok? Can you do this?”

“I-I can,” you breathed. “De, I’m—I’m scared.”

“I know baby,” Dean sighed. “We’re coming to get you, ok?”

“Time’s up,” the officer interrupted.

“I gotta go,” you said shakily into the phone.

“Ok, that’s ok,” Dean soothed. “I’m gonna see you in just a little while, ok?”

Before you could say anything, the officer took the phone from your grasp and hung it up.

…

When it was clear that you wouldn’t speak without a lawyer or guardian present, one of the nicer officers suggested that you could wait in his office where it was more comfortable. Even so, you were so wound up that when a branch hit the window you just about jumped out of your skin.

“Things would go so much easier for everyone if you just told us about the guys you were traveling with,” the officer said. You didn’t respond.

Bang! Scrape! The branch continued to hit the window.

“You’re just a kid. You probably won’t even serve jail time if you just tell us what those guys did.”

Scrape…bang…bang.

You sat up straighter in your seat as you began to listen more intently to the sounds the branch was making.

D…

Bang! Bang! Bang!

You knew it! Morse code!

E…

Bang! Scrape!

A…

Scrape, Bang!

N.

Dean. He was here!

You tried not to let your emotions show on your face as fear once again clenched in your gut. If Dean was giving you this signal, that meant it was time for your diversion. You had to get this guy out of the room.

“I need another officer,” you said suddenly. The man’s eyebrows rose in surprise; he hadn’t expected you to speak.

“Another?”

“A woman,” you clarified. “I…I have a problem. If-if you get me a women officer, and she helps me with my…problem…” you made sure to make your pauses as awkward as possible so that the guy would get the message. “Then I’ll talk.”

“Oh!” That got the guy’s attention, whether because he wanted you to talk or because he was uncomfortable, you didn’t know. Either way it worked, and he disappeared out the door, closing it behind him.

As soon as he was gone, you jumped up on the chair you’d been sitting on and pulled open the window.

“Hey baby,” Dean‘s voice came from outside. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you muttered nervously. “I-I don’t know if I can get out the window, the chair isn’t high enough.” The chair was just high enough for you to grab onto the window sill, but you weren’t strong enough to pull yourself up.

“That’s ok, I’m coming to get you.”

You looked up, trying to catch a glimpse of Dean through the window. He was climbing a tree just outside the window, and you jumped back in surprise when he leaped from the tree branch to the window. He pulled himself in easily, and dropped to the floor without making a sound.

You knew you were on a time-sensitive mission, but you couldn’t help yourself. As soon as Dean was in reach, you threw yourself into his arms. He staggered back slightly, lifting his hands to steady you by your shoulders.

“Ok, you’re ok kid,” he promised. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”

With Dean’s boost, you managed to climb through the window, but once you were through you became dizzy looking at the ground so far below.

“Kid come on, we gotta go!” Dean insisted.

“It-it’s too high,” you whimpered.

“No it’s not. Just lower yourself down by your arms and drop, it’s not too far I promise.”

You took a deep breath. If Dean said it was safe, then it had to be safe. It had to be. You put your palms on the windowsill, gripping it tightly as you slowly lowered yourself down. You were still a long way from the ground, but you could already hear Dean climbing up onto the chair. You couldn’t let him down, not after he did all this to save you from your own mess.

You closed your eyes tightly, took a deep breath…and dropped.

The second your feet hit the ground, you rolled in the grass, lessening the impact of the fall. Dean was right; you were ok.

Speaking of Dean, he followed right behind you, shooting you a grin as soon as he was on the ground next to you.

“See? That was easy. Now let’s get going.”

You were in the Impala and on the road before anyone had any idea you were gone.

To your surprise, Sam was sleeping soundly in the passenger’s seat. When Dean saw Sam was sleeping, he spoke up.

“Alright, let’s talk. What happened, kid?”

You lowered your gaze to your lap as you struggled to speak, the adrenaline of your capture and escape still making your heart pound.

“I just wanted to get some food.”

“Why didn’t you just wait?” Dean demanded, still annoyed.

“I wanted to help.” You mumbled.

“Ok,” Dean sighed, relenting. “But you can’t just do that, ok? We had no idea what happened to you.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was thick as you blinked rapidly.

“Ok, ok.”

You looked up in surprise when Dean pulled the Impala over.

“What—“

Dean stepped out of the car and pulled open your door.

“Come here.”

You stepped hesitantly out of the car, your legs shaking.

“Am I in trouble?”

“Baby,” Dean sighed, shaking his head as he pulled you into his arms.

You didn’t know where this sudden affection came from, but you decided to run with it.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, your tears suddenly spilling over. “I-I didn’t mean to make it all harder. I just—I just thought I could help.”

“I know you did,” Dean sighed. “But next time you gotta tell us, ok?”

“It was just a stupid supply run, and I couldn’t even do that right!”

“Ok, ok,” Dean cradled your head with his hand, pulling you against his chest as you cried harder. “It’s alright. We all screw up, ok? It’s not important. You’ll do better next time, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I will, I promise.”

Dean smiled as you pulled away.

“That’s my girl.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy

@mrvlxgrl

#dean winchester #dean and sam #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x little sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader

[kaleldobrev]

Without Hesitation, Yes.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: After all these years, Dean finally asks you to marry him.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Cursing (3x)

Authors Note: Flashbacks in italics | I love me a good childhood friends to lovers story | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Dean had known you for as long as he could remember; first meeting you through Bobby. He had met you in the late eighties, when he couldn’t be more then 9 or 10 years old. Bobby introduced you as his daughter – not biological, adopted; but he still considered you his blood nonetheless. From the moment he laid his eyes on you, he felt an instant connection to you; the two of you becoming partners in crime very soon after your first meeting. Even when him, Sammy, and his dad were on the road, he still made sure to keep in contact with you, telling you everything and anything. He would tell you how gross the motel room was that they were staying at, the diners that they would stop at on the way to their next case, and even about their current case – sometimes asking you for your input.

Although Bobby was your adoptive father and you would help him do research for cases every now and then, he had never actually wanted the hunting life for you. But not being in the life was never an option for you; it was something that you had always wanted to do. So, when Dean Winchester showed up on your doorstep in October 2005 saying that his dad was missing and needed your help, you dropped everything, packed a bag and left; even though your father didn’t want you to go. He was mad at you for leaving, but understood that it was something that you needed to do; not only because the Winchester’s were like family, but because he could see the way you and Dean looked at each other – something that he tried so hard to prevent.

For as long as Dean could remember, he always felt something for you; but he never fully knew what that feeling was. He was between three different options for a while: he actually had a crush on you, he only had a crush on you because Bobby told him “Don’t even think about it boy” or he only had a crush on you because you were the most consistent woman in his life. One of the first moments he began to try and pinpoint which of the three it was, took place when the two of you were teenagers. Everyone was sleeping and it was just the two of you up. You had somehow convinced him to watch one of your favorite movies Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Even though it wasn’t his thing, he didn’t mind watching it with you because he had thought that Kristy Swanson was hot – but he didn’t dare tell you that. He had remembered how the two of you snuck downstairs to watch it, the two of you making popcorn and grabbing two sodas from the fridge. Dean remembered how engrossed you were when watching it, sometimes quoting from it or even acting out some of the scenes. He could still remember something that you said to him, even though it had been more than 20 years. “When I grow up, I wanna be just like Buffy.” For some reason, you saying that had brought a smile to his face.

There were a few instances in his life when he had planned on telling you how he truly felt about you before the two of you had started dating. But each and every time he had thought about telling you, he would back out, because he didn’t want to ruin one of his longest friendships. Before he went to Hell, he almost broke and told you, but he told himself that there was no way he could do that do you despite the fact that he knew that he was never going to see you again. The last thing he wanted was to tell you that he loved you and then die, and now you had to spend the rest of your life wondering, “What if?” A few years later right before he was going to say yes to Michael, that is when he decided he was going to do it. He had no idea why he had thought that was the moment, but his feelings for you just poured out of him like a dam that had burst. “I’ve loved you for a long time Sweetheart. Ever since we were kids. There are so many times when I’ve wanted to tell you how I felt but…I didn’t want to ruin the friendship that we had. I…I didn’t want to lose you.” For a moment he had thought that you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings but to his surprise you did. “Took you long enough you idjit.” You told him, kissing him soon after that. “After I go into the pit, I want the two of you to have a normal apple pie, white picket fence life together. Do the whole nine. Marriage, kids, PTA meetings. All of it.” Sam had made the both of you promise. The two of you did have some sense of normalcy for the year – the best you could anyway, but kids, marriage, and definitely PTA meetings weren’t on the table at that moment. Someday though maybe.

Dean loved you more than anything or anyone. You were his best friend, his favorite person, the one that he could always count on; and most importantly: the love of his life. He never thought he would ever get the chance to ever call someone that: the love of his life. He had only heard the term once or twice during his life, mainly hearing it from Bobby and his father. Over the years, Dean had thought that he was in love before, but it wasn’t until he had a relationship with you that he truly would know what being in love actually felt like. The other times he had thought he was, he was in love with the idea of the person, in love with the idea of being in their world – a world that he knew he didn’t belong in. With you, it was different; effortless. He didn’t have to hide any aspect of himself in order to please you. You weren’t afraid of him, even when he was afraid of himself at times.

There was a part of him that knew that he didn’t deserve you – you weren’t as broken as he was. Yes, you had lost just as much as he had, but you were somehow stronger than he could ever be; which is one of the things that he admired most about you. When things got tough, he would hid behind a bottle of Jack and a mountain of self-loathing and sarcasm. Meanwhile, you continued to carry your head high and carry on like it was just another Tuesday with the boys or just another case. The only time he had ever seen you completely break is when Bobby died.

A few weeks before his insanely close near-death experience where he almost lost to a rusty rebar fighting vampires, he had went into town with Sam to go and get you an engagement ring. Even though he knew the type of jewelry that you liked, getting you an engagement ring was a completely different story. He went back and forth for hours trying to find you the perfect ring. “Dude, just pick something. She’ll love whatever you get her.” Sam had told him. It was in that moment that Dean’s eyes landed on one that he knew that you would absolutely love. “I’ll take that one.” Dean said, pointing at the ring in the case.

A month has gone by after his close near-death experience, and proposing to you is something that he no longer wanted to put off. He didn’t want to spend another day, another hour, another minute without seeing this ring on your finger. You had told him once a while ago that you didn’t need an engagement ring; that all he had to do was ask you to marry him and then the two of you could go to the nearest courthouse that same day. He truly loved the thought; but he had wanted to do something more for you than that.

Dean held the ring in his hands and couldn’t wait to give it to you. The only problem that he was currently having though, was trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say to you. “Still trying to come up with a speech there Romeo?” Sam said, his voice sounding a bit amused.

Dean eyed him, placing the ring down on the kitchen table. “I have no freaking clue what I’m going to say to her.” He admitted. “I don’t want it to be a chick flick moment, but I don’t want it to sound too generic either.” For the past several days, Dean has been trying to come up with a good proposal speech for you, but each and every time he thought that he had something, it simply just left him. Yesterday, he had even started writing the speech down, but kept crossing out everything that he wrote because he hated the way it looked and sounded.

“Word of advice? As someone who was going to propose…” Sam sighed a little at the memory; still briefly remembering exactly what he was planning on saying to Jessica. “Just be honest. Tell her…tell her all the things you love about her. Why you fell for her in the first place. You know things like that.”

“I said no chick flick moments Sam.” Dean picked up the ring again and started spinning it around on the table, momentarily forgetting that the ring before him was a couple grand and not something he just picked up at the Gas n’ Sip down the road.

“Then don’t make it one.” Sam walked over to Dean and placed his hand on his shoulder. “She’ll love whatever you say to her. I mean, she’s stuck with your dumbass this far. Nothing you can say now will make her run.” Sam gave him a smirk, and Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Bitch.” Dean said.

“Jerk.” Sam replied.

You were doing what you normally did on a Sunday morning – doing some yoga in the Bunker gym. Ever since you and the boys had made the Bunker your home, you had found yourself attracted to yoga; something that you initially didn’t like until recently. Bobby had tried to get you into it – weirdly enough; saying that it would be good for you. You had told him that you would only do it if he did it with you. “I already get pedicures with you, I ain’t doing yoga too.” He said.

As your eyes were closed and you were currently in Lotus position you heard a small knock on the door frame of the gym. You opened your eyes and a huge smile sprawled across your lips. “Hey you.” You said, your voice calm.

“Hey beautiful.” Dean replied, walking into the gym with you. He pointed to the spot in front of you. “Can I join you?” You were slightly surprised. You had tried to get Dean to do yoga for a while, but he always said that it wasn’t really his thing – he left the yoga portion of the workouts to you and Sam.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You scooted back a bit, giving him just a little bit of room so he wasn’t so close to the door.

Dean sat down in front of you, trying his best to get in the same position as you were currently in. Fuck I’m old. He thought to himself as he crossed his legs, feeling just a little bit of pressure in his knees. “You don’t have to sit like that if you don’t want to my love.” You told him. “I’m happy to just have you sitting here with me.” Your comment sincere.

“I uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Dean’s sentence made your heart jump. Not only because of the abruptness of it, but because it sounded like a ‘We need to talk’ conversation. Conversations like these were never your favorite – Hell, you didn’t know anyone who had liked these types of conversations.

“What’s up?” You asked, trying your best not to sound nervous while replying.

“Don’t worry. It’s…it’s nothing bad.” Dean reassured you. “Um…Well, it could be. But…I personally don’t think it is. So, I’m hoping you won’t think it’s bad either.” He sounded like a school boy trying to talk to his crush for the first time; you found it adorable. “Do you, do you remember when we were kids and Bobby would always buy you these ring pops from the store?”

“Yeah…Why?” Of course you had remembered. “One day I want a ring this big!” You told Bobby. “Not if you marry a hunter you won’t.” Bobby laughed.

“I remember, I don’t know if you do but, I remember when we were like…I don’t know, ten? The two of us were playing upstairs in your room and I took the ring pop and put it on your finger and I asked you to marry me. And without any kind of hesitation you said yes.” Dean started smiling from the memory. “Oh Dean! Of course I will! Why wouldn’t I want to marry my best friend?” You said. “You then ran out of your room, leaving my ass behind and ran all the way downstairs where you told Bobby and my dad that I had asked you to marry me. “Look daddy! Uncle John! Dean asked me to marry him! We’re gonna get married!” Bobby had told you years later, “I knew you and that idjit were gonna fall in love. I saw it when you were youngins.”

“Dean –” You began.

“Y/N.” Dean positioned himself so he was now sitting on both of his knees, holding both of your hands in his. “I honestly don’t know what I would ever do without you. Out of everyone that I’ve known in my life, you have been the one consistent thing in it. You have always been by my side even when I know for a fact that I didn’t deserve it. A lot of days, especially in the beginning when we first got together, I didn’t think I deserved you. I thought that you deserved much more than someone like me. Someone that could provide you with the life that you deserve; a safe and quiet one, not one where you’re constantly running toward the things that want to kill you.” He let out a small chuckle. “But, I’ve realized over the years that…Sweetheart, we may not have the most conventional life but, we have each other, and that’s really all that matters.” He released one of your hands for a moment as he reached for something in his pocket. “Close your eyes for me.” Without hesitation you closed them. The second you did, you felt something being placed in your hands. “Okay. Open.” When you opened your eyes there was a red and black ring lying in your hand.

“Dean…” You looked down at the ring and then looked up at Dean, unsure of what to say. For the first time in your life you were utterly speechless. You got up, getting in the same position as Dean, holding the ring in your fingers. Placing your hands on Dean’s shoulder’s, you leaned in and kissed him. You felt his hands and arms pull you in close to him as he deepened the kiss between the two of you.

“Will you marry me Sweetheart?” He asked, once the kiss was broken.

Without hesitation, like you had done all those years ago you said, “Yes.”

#Dean Winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x reader #spn imagine #spn one shot #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #spn #supernatural #reader insert #female reader

[bigfan-fanfic]

Reclaim (Male!Reader x Dean Winchester)

Could I request Dean's bf taking him out to just spend a day or two doing whatever childhood things he never got to do, no matter how much he huffs about it not being a big deal.  Just fluff and carthartic stuff, that kind of thing

A grumpy bearded man glares at you from a swingset that is far too small for him, his bowed legs bent pretty far.

"Are you happy now?"

You chuckle. "You didn't even swing."

"It's too small."

"Then go use the big boy set. Not my fault you wanted to go for the kiddie swings."

He huffs and stands indignantly.

you laugh harder. "This was kinda supposed to be fun, Dean."

"But, like... this is all kid's stuff."

"You're never too old for some of this stuff!" you cry, and pull him along to the swings. "Don't you have any fun stuff you used to do as a kid?"

"Uh... target practice with Dad?"

"Wow. Yeesh."

"What?"

"So, like... you never really got to have a childhood."

"Dude. You can't just say crap like that to someone's face. Besides, it's not a big deal. I can-"

"I know what we're doing today!"

"Oh boy."

You challenge Dean to see who can get higher on the swings before you chicken out - mainly to stop your competitive boyfriend from trying to go all the way over.

And then when you hear the tinny calliope noises of an ice cream truck you go running, calling out for Dean to come with you, and you both chase down the truck.

It's silly and stupid, but then the ice cream salesman tells you about the fair in town, and you give Dean an excited stare.

"......"

"...."

"...fine."

Dean usually doesn't get to stay in any town long enough for any local events, so a county fair is still relatively new to him.

The overwhelming amount of sight and sound is enough to burst his bubble of attempted adult disapproval, and you catch a glimpse of the goofy kid he probably would have been.

He grins, and eventually takes the lead in pulling you to the different attractions.

You gorge yourself on fried county fair food - Dean is in fried heaven, defying all the angels to come up with a food better than the fried oreo, but even his insatiable appetite can't conquer a huge funnel cake with a dollop of ice cream that won't even melt all the way on the hot day because it's so big - not without your assistance.

You make him do the petting zoo, and he tries to impress you at the dunk tank, pitching a fastball that sends some cute local guy splashing.

He wins you prizes, accepts those you win for him, and admits that it's probably just about as fun as that time his dad took him into a bar for the first time and showed him how to hustle pool.

For now, you'll take it.

He even lets you drive home, since he's tuckered himself out so much. You let him lean against you, and you grin to yourself when you hear him quietly ask-

"Can we go again tomorrow?"

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x male reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural x male reader #supernatural headcanons #headcanons #male reader