#and the final Winchester gets married

[typicalopposite]

New Destiel Fic!

Hey Jude | Changes

Cas reached out and took Dean’s hands, pulling the hunter back to him. “Talk to me.” Dean tried to look away, but Cas quickly cupped his face, turning it back to him. “Do you want another child?” The hunter sighed, annoyed at the tears rushing back to his eyes. “Dean…” Cas pleaded with him. 

“Yeah…” he finally admitted. 

#supernatural #spn #destiel #deancas #post canon #canon divergent au #cw mpreg #mpreg mention #mpreg fic #married destiel #they get to be happy #finally #this one gets a little angsty tho #be warned #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #eileen leahy #jack kline #og character #supernatural characters

[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

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

In Another Life

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Dean POV

Summary: When Dean wakes up in another life with you, he begins to question your friendship and realizes that he has loved you all along. But how can he change that? (I’m so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Pregnancy Fluff, Mutual Pining

Word Count: 5.5K (I have an addiction don't judge me)

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any. I’ll say mention of gore, but for one second. Maybe one allusion to sex, but not really.  Some swearing (once or twice). Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Dean’s perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. This is my first time writing for Supernatural, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics

Main Masterlist

*********************************************

Dean couldn’t remember what happened last night only that the bed beneath him felt like an old friend welcoming him home. The night before ghosted across his mind, hovering just out of reach, memories of a dream barely forming from a fog of uncertainty. He fades in and out of sleep in a mist that soothes his aching body.

“Dean?” A soft voice whispers.

Dean groans and squeezes his pillow tighter against his chest to avoid waking up. He didn’t care what time it was, all he knew was that he didn’t want to get out of bed.

“Leave me alone Sammy.” He grumbles into the pillow.

“Dean.” The voice says again, this time with a happy laugh that sounds nothing like Sam.

His eyes open,  blinded by the sunlight that streams through the large windows on the other side of the bedroom.

Wait. Where am I?

“Dean we have to get up or we’ll be late for the party.”

Dean looks towards the voice and  realizes that he’s not squeezing a pillow, it’s you. You’re facing him, hair fanning out over the pillow beneath your head, eyes wide and crinkled around the edges, smiling at him.

“Y/n?” Dean says it hesitantly, arms tightening around your waist.

“No no no. Don’t look at me like that. I will not be roped into staying in bed. We can’t be late for your mom’s birthday party and you promised you would come with me to pick up the cake.”

“But-“ Dean couldn’t remember how he got here, only that something feels wrong.

“No buts.” You giggle, before leaning forward and kissing him.

Dean freezes, confused, but the soft movement of your mouth against his erases any uncertainty. He eases his face forward nudging his nose into yours to deepen the kiss. Dean doesn’t know how he got here, but all he knows is how natural it feels to be here with you. Before he can stop himself he rolls you over your back, bringing a moan from you that vibrates though his skull. His fingertips blaze a trail along your hips.

“Easy there tiger.” You smile up at him. “You don’t want to crush Zeppelin.”

Dean’s confusion makes you laugh, before he finally looks down between you. “You’re pregnant.” He whispers, noting the protrusion of your abdomen.

“I mean I think so.” You laugh in a way that makes his heart jump and buckle.

Dean lays his hand down on the smooth skin where your shirt pushes up. Why can’t I remember this? He thinks to himself confused, searching for memories he can’t recall.

“I believe we’ve talked about it several times. And it was you who decided to stay up until 4 am painting the nursery.” Your hands gently brush his hair back out of his face. “You did such a good job baby.”

Dean reaches for the memory, but he can’t seem to

 grasp it. “I did?”

“Mhmm. Look at you, you’re still covered in paint.” You smile wider picking up the hand that rests on your belly to show him the splashes of cream colored paint flecked along the back of his hand. And as you do he notices the ring on your left hand.

“Are we married?” Dean tries again to grasp for his memory but comes up empty handed. He strokes his thumb along the back of yours examining the ring.

I should remember that. How could I forget that we’re married?

“Feigning amnesia will not make me stay in bed with you. No matter how cute you are.”  You gently lay your hand against his chest pushing him back so you can sit up in bed.

Dean can’t help but notice how beautiful and carefree you look. Hair catching fire in the light from the window, t-shirt brushing against the top of your thighs, and how you smile at him with so much love it makes something catch in his chest.

“Dean?” You suddenly look worried. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I’m just tired I guess.”

His cell phone rings where it sits on the nightstand, drawing his gaze to the alarm clock and car magazine that sit on top of the dark wood.

“You better answer that. It’s probably Sam asking us where we are.” You kiss him on the cheek, before standing up and walking into the closet on the edge of the bedroom.

Dean watches you go, his eyes tracing your familiar figure as you leave the room, before reaching for his phone.

“Hey where are you guys? Jessica’s freaking out because you haven’t brought the cake.” Sam’s  voice triggers another memory for Dean, but this one remains allusive.

“Sam?”

“Dean.”

“Um.”

“Dean are you hungover or something?”

“No. Sorry, just running a little late-“ Dean apologizes looking around the bedroom. It’s small, filled with light from the open window that shows a quaint backyard. The dresser on the wall opposite the bed has photos of him and you, photos of Sam and Jessica, and a photo of Mary and John Winchester. Dean’s eyes stop on the photo as a memory triggers at the back of his mind, but Sam interrupts the thought.

“Well come on. Dad’s not going to like it if you guys miss mom’s birthday-“

“Dad?” Deans memory spikes again and he sees his father sitting in the drivers seat humming along to a song on the radio. Another memory flashes, Dean and his father standing behind the impala with Sam looking into the trunk.

“Yes dad. Your boss. Our father. Dean are you okay? Y/n said that you were painting the nursery last night all by yourself. You could have told me. I would have come over to help-“

“I’m alright Sammy.”

But he doesn’t feel alright, something is definitely wrong.

“Okay well hurry up. I’ll see you when you get here.”

Dean hangs up the phone and sits on the end of the bed with it in his hand.

You walk back into the room wearing a green sundress. Your hair is soft again, falling over your shoulders in a way that makes Dean’s breath catch, effortlessly beautiful.

A memory of you wearing jeans and a leather jacket washes across his mind of you standing with him at the back of the Impala reaching in for a shotgun while he knocks your hand away.

“Dean?” You walk towards him, this time standing between his legs. You place your hands on his shoulders and he can’t help but turn to look at the wedding ring. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because if you’re not feeling well we don’t have to go today. I can call your dad. But I just thought your really wanted to go. You hate missing your mother’s birthday. It’s usually you that drags me out of bed.” You trail your hand against the side of his face with a worried expression, to turn his gaze back on you.

Someone deep in the back of his mind the expression triggers something and he sees a memory of you. Except you’re holding a machete in your right hand that drips blood on the floor but, the look of worry in your eyes the same.

Where could that be from?

“I don’t know.”

“Hey.” You whisper, sitting down in his lap and his arms can’t help but secure you there, burying his head in your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’m scared too.”

“What?” Dean raises his head from your shoulder

“We’ve talked about this. You’re going to be a great dad. And honestly we probably won’t know what we’re doing, but that’s how everyone starts.” Your fingertips drag through his hair in a soothing motion.

Dean tries again to grasp at earlier memories of this life, early memories of you, but all he sees are motel rooms. Motel rooms where you sleep on a pullout couch in a corner and where Sam sits  at a small table shuffling through endless books and papers.

Why?

Dean can’t understand, because that life seems so different than this one. This one where you look softer and happier, where you share a bed and are married. He thinks about the other memories, where your smile is not as bright, where there’s a hardness to your face, but still just as beautiful. Another memory of him and you sitting in a bar drinking beer, another of you laughing at something he said and hitting him, and finally one of you reading in bed while Dean sits at a motel table and watches you softly turn the pages.

Deep down Dean knows in his bones that in those memories  you and him are just friends, but he allows himself to indulge in your touch, enjoying the comfort that comes with being with you.

“It’s not about the baby.” Dean sighs. “I just can’t remember how we got here.”

“Here?”

“Married.” His arms tighten around your waist not wanting to let go. You’re the only thing he recognizes in all of this.

“Um well, my car broke down and I brought it to a mechanic shop where I met a devilishly handsome man with green eyes.” You smile at him. “Who refused to let me leave until he bought me dinner.”

Dean stares at you.

“Practically kidnapped me. But you were so charming I couldn’t resist.” You lean closer to whisper in his ear. “Not to mention sexy covered in grease and wearing a meatloaf t-shirt.” You kiss him before he can respond, and he loses himself in you. The way you hold him close, the way your fingers work up into his hair to secure him right where he wants to be, and the way you feel in his arms wipes away any uncertainty. “As much as I’d like to go back to bed with you, we’re going to be late.” You whisper against his lips.

And Dean allows himself to be dragged away.

*********************************************

“Did you remember to order the parts for that ‘76 Camaro right?” John Winchester asks Dean, but Dean’s not focused, he can’t focus on anything.

The drive over to his parents house was different. Instead of sitting on the opposite side of the front seat of the impala, you had sat in the middle, holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder, humming softly.

It made driving for Dean especially difficult. The memories of you in his car that came across his mind while he drove distracted him.

You  in the backseat shouting something at Dean while he completely ignored you rolling his eyes, you sitting in the front seat with a map trying to direct him while Sam slept in the back, you singing to “The Eye of the Tiger” with him while Sam tried to close his ears, and finally you asleep in the front seat with Dean’s jacket draped over you.  That last one stayed in his mind. He liked how you looked wrapped up in his jacket, breath fogging the glass window, while Dean tried his best to drive smooth and slow so you wouldn't wake.

But you in the front seat holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder while humming along to the music blew all of those memories out of the water. All Dean wanted to do was exist there and then.

When you both arrived at his parents home Dean tried not to be disappointed. Now he was too distracted watching you talk and laugh with Jessica and his mother across the room to listen to anything his father said.

“Dean are you listening?” His dad tries again.

“Huh?” The cold beer in Dean’s hand drips condensation against his skin. He turns to look back at his father.

Another memory of him momentarily distracts Dean, this one of John leaving Dean and Sam in a motel room so he can go hunting.

Did we ever go hunting? Dean tries to think of a time where they went out into the woods to shoot some deer, but comes up empty handed. A few memories of him and Sam toting guns rise to the surface, but he can't remember why they had them.

"You'll have to excuse Dean, he's still mentally painting the nursery." Sam snorts into his beer.

"Shut up."

"Don't tease him Sam. I'm sure that Jessica will have you turn your office into a nursery before you know it." You appear on Dean's left, raising his arm around you so you can lean into his side. Dean automatically tightens his arm around your shoulders.

"Don't joke about that y/n."

"Uh-huh. You can't hide in that big fancy law firm forever. She'll find you." You smile up at Dean in a way that makes his heart feel like its stopped beating.

Why can't I remember any of this life?

"She's right." Jessica comes over to kiss Sam on the cheek.

"I do not hide at the firm-" Sam rolls his eyes.

"You do."

Mary Winchester comes over. "Are you fighting at my birthday party?"

Dean's father puts his arm around his mother, pulling her into his chest with a smile he hides by taking a swig of beer.

"No mom, we're not-"

"Sounded like a fight to me." You whisper to Dean, and he can't help but smile at you.

"It's not a fight y/n!"

"Don't yell at my wife Sammy." Dean says before he can stop himself. He thinks about how natural it sounded coming out of his mouth.

His wife. You're his wife. He thinks and presses a kiss to the top of your head that makes you sigh into his chest.

"I'm not yelling at y/n." 

"Sam we're just teasing you." Jessica laughs, placing her hand against his chest. Dean notices the ring on her own finger, and a memory of Jessica rises in the back of his head. Jessica standing in the darkness of an apartment, while Dean holds on to the front of Sam's shirt, her eyes wide and confused.

But it vanishes when you wince in his arms. Dean's eyes are drawn back down to you, worry spiking in his chest.

"I'm okay." You whisper. "Just think Zeppelin is hitting his limit."

"You guys go on home. I think that John has grilled Dean about the garage enough." Mary smiles, before taking a step forward to hug you. Dean is disappointed when you leave his arms, but smiles despite, watching you with his mother.

"Let the little linebacker get some rest." John hugs you.

"Of course. Thank you so much for letting us come. I'm sorry we were late." Dean watches the subtle blush of your cheeks as you apologize.

"I'm sure it's my son's fault." Mary moves to hug Dean.

As soon as she does Dean is overwhelmed by a surge of sadness as another memory of his mother rises in the back of his mind that he can't quite bring into focus.

"Mom?" Dean whispers.

"Hmm?" She looks up at him confused. "We'll see you on Tuesday for dinner. Okay?"

"Okay."

"We love you."

"I love you too mom." But something sticks in his chest when he says it.

“Don’t forget to order the parts.” John says shaking Dean’s hand.

“Sure.”

“Bye Jessica. Let me know if you need us to bring anything for Tuesday.” Dean watches you hug her and just for a moment Dean sees Sam holding a bouquet of flowers at a gravesite.

What is happening?

*********************************************

When Dean pulls the Impala into the driveway of your home something still feels wrong. After saying goodbye to everyone he still can’t shake the feeling that he forgot something. The radio plays "Black Dog" filling the silence as the car idles in front of the house.

“Dean!”

“What?” He turns to look at where you sit beside him in the front seat.

“Feel.” You grab one of his hands from the wheel and place it against your abdomen an excited smile gracing your cheeks. “Little future drummer."

The kicking against the palm of his hand makes Dean smile, leaning forward into where you sit beside him. Happiness breaks in his chest like the crest of a wave. He can't remember a moment in his life where he felt this happy, this much love for someone.

"Y/n?"

"Mhmm."

"I love you." Dean refuses to believe that he has said it to anyone else ever in his life, can't remember wanting to say it to anyone else, can't believe that he will ever want to say it to anyone else.

"I love you too."

He leans down to kiss you, hand still against your stomach, drawing you further into him to breathe you in. Everything else vanishes, just the feel of your soft lips against his, the tickle of your hair against his cheeks, and the pulse of his son's kicks against the palm of his hand.

But then it's all gone.

*********************************************

"Dean!" Sam's voice jars him into reality, his eyes opening to see his brother standing over him, one hand on his shoulder. "Dean are you okay?"

"What happened?" Dean sits up with a groan, ignoring the headache that throbs behind his eyes.

His eyes adjust to the dim light. He's in a long room where wooden tables sit every few feet covered in dust and machinery blanketed with old sheets. The musty smell fills his nose, replacing the smell of your shampoo that lingers under his nose from when you were in the front seat with him.

"Djinn ambushed you. Y/n and I got here as soon as we could."

"Y/n?" The memories of the dream strike him in the chest all over again, merging with memories of reality. "Where is Y/n?"

You enter the room out of breath, blood flecked across your cheeks and holding a baseball bat that drips a dark liquid onto the concrete floor. “It’s dead.”

"You sure?" Sam asks raising an eyebrow.

"There's enough brain matter on the floor in there for a zombie buffet." You shoulder the baseball bat. "So yeah, it's dead."

Dean’s eyes trace your body taking in the leather jacket and dark t-shirt his memory flashing to the green sundress and beautiful smile. You’re half-smiling, but Dean can see the hardness in your face again and understands where it comes from.

She wasn’t a hunter. He thinks of the dream version of you, where your hair fell in soft curls, but now it’s tied back in a ponytail. His eyes drop to your abdomen expecting more, but disappointment flicks in his heart. It wasn’t real.

“Dean are you okay?” You step closer to him. The smile has dropped now, replaced with a worried expression.

He flashes back to when you asked him that in the dream, when you sat on his lap and tangled your hands in his hair, sighing into his mouth as he kissed you.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

He traces your face again but every time he does he only sees the other version of you, the version that’s in love with him, married to him. And he knows that here you are just his friend.

“Yeah.” He says again standing up. “Let’s get out of here.”

The ride back to the motel is silent. Dean doesn’t put on any music, too afraid that it’ll remind him of the memory of you and him in the front seat while his son kicked against his hand. Instead, all he can think of was how happy he was in the other life, how in love with you he was-

Dean knew that it wasn’t just a fantasy, that he really is in love with you, but now after seeing how everything could be, it weighed on his chest. Each time you looked at him he wanted to pull you close to him, hug you, kiss you, but he knew you would pull away. Because this version of you was not his.

“I’m going to go to that diner on the corner. You guys want something?” Sam looks around the room expectantly, but Dean doesn’t look up from the carpet.

“Sure.” Dean hears you respond. “Maybe just a burger and a piece of pie. Preferably apple but I'll take cherry if they have it."

“Okay. Dean?” Sam asks again.

Dean shakes his head. He can’t eat. Not now.

Sam hesitates at the door worried. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t want anything.” Dean snaps.

“Yeesh don’t bite my head off.” Sam throws you a shrug before leaving.

Dean is aware that it’s just the two of you now, the memory of the two of you in bed surfaces making him tighten his grip on the edge of the blanket beneath him.

“Dean?” You whisper.

“What?” His voice comes out harsher than he means it to.

“What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

“Nothing is wrong.” But he can’t look at you, not when he knows he'll look up and you won't be pregnant and not when the other version of you still has a hold of his heart.

“Dean you’re my best friend I know when something’s wrong. Plus you haven’t been able to look at me since you woke up and you never say no to food.”

“I’m fine.”

“Dean-“

“Just leave me alone damnit!” He snaps at you, able to raise his gaze from the floor for one second. Dean immediately feels bad, watching the pain in your eyes as he pushes you away. But he lowers his eyes to the carpet once more to avoid your gaze.

You sigh, but don’t get angry with him. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine. I'll just leave you alone then.”

And as soon as you leave to take a shower he feels the loss of you beside him.

He listens to the sound of the shower, feels the passing of time, but he does not move. The memories of the dream rise and fall, replacing the darkness of the hotel room with brilliant light. The memory of the sun catching your hair on fire as you laid next to him in bed tracing your fingertips along his jaw, the memory of you in the front seat of the Impala leaning against him and humming while you hold his hand, the memory of the party where he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you tightly into his chest, and finally the memory of the last kiss you shared in the front seat of the Impala each dance across his mind. He acutely feels the loss of your body against his, the loss of your lips, and finally the sound of your voice telling him you love him while his son kicked against his hand.

“Dean?”

He looks up at you. You look softer than you did. The blood is gone from your cheeks, your hair falls over your shoulders still wet from the shower, effortlessly beautiful, he decides. You’re wearing one of his old t-shirts that he gave you and a pair of sweatpants. It does something to him, watching you stand there in his shirt. It hangs past your waist like a dress, making you look smaller than you are. The smell of your shampoo wafts out of the bathroom, something familiar that makes his throat tight.

“You know when that Djinn got me a few months ago it threw me for a loop too.” You say softly leaning against the doorway of the bathroom. “Everything felt so real. It was hard to tell what was real and what wasn’t.”

Dean remembers when that happened. When you vanished out of the blue while checking out a case alone and he and Sam tore apart the small town looking for you. Dean remembers how worried he was, how desperate he was to find you.

I loved her then too. Dean realizes looking at you. How did I not know?

Dean remembers the aftermath, when you woke up and wouldn’t look at him. How your gaze was almost haunted and how he had to carry you out of there because you couldn’t move. He remembers you laying in bed and turning away from him and Sam when they had asked you what was wrong and the following day when you acted like nothing happened.

“What did it make you see?” Dean whispers, noting the way you shift back and forth on your feet. He hadn't seen you nervous before, seen you face down demons and vampires without batting an eye, but now you looked vulnerable.

You look down at your feet.  “If I say it you can’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“Dean, I’m serious.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.” He watches the tension in your shoulders.

Why would she be afraid to tell me? We talk about everything.

“It was us.”

“What?” Shock tugs at his heart and for a second he thinks that he heard you wrong.

“It was us. We were married. We had 2 kids. My brother was still alive and my parents were talking to me again. I was happy there. It was hard to come back. Not that I’m not happy, but just that it’s hard to think you’ve lived a life that doesn’t exist. Especially one so different than all of this.” Dean watches you take in a deep breath, tapping your finger against your bicep, avoiding his eyes. “That was when I realized I was in love with you.” 

Dean’s heart stops beating. “What did you just say-“

You look up and smile tightly. “It’s when I realized I was in love with you. That’s why I was so messed up. I didn't know how to-“

Sam chooses that exact moment to walk in loaded with bags of food. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing much.” Dean watches you easily shift your expression to hide what just happened, smiling at Sam as if you hadn’t said the one thing that Dean had been trying to say to you since he woke up. “Just trying to convince Dean to let me work on Baby. I think I’m wearing him down.”

Dean had never realized how much of a good liar you were until this moment, sure he had seen you pretend to be a government agent, but this was different.

“Like that’ll happen.” Sam hands you a bag of food before turning to look at Dean. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean watches you pull out the burger, stunned by your confession.

You place the burger next to him on the bed. “Eat this. It’ll help.”

“But-“ He looks up at you, wanting to finish the conversation.

“I promise I’m not that hungry Dean. I’d rather have the pie. Unless you’re going to fight me for it?” You smile raising an eyebrow.

Dean doesn’t understand why you’re acting like you didn’t just say you were in love with him. He gazes at you, searching your face. For a second he sees the mask slip, but before he can comment it’s gone.

“No I won’t.” He whispers.

“Good.” You turn to the made-up pull out couch and fold your legs underneath you with the slice of pie balanced on your knee, before reaching into your bag for a worn paper back.

Dean sits there watching you turn the pages. She loves me. The memory of you in his dream in the front seat of the Impala whispering it to him doesn’t hold the same weight because now all he can hear is you saying it here, now.

Dean can’t move. He wished Sam would leave again. He wished Sam would leave so he could bring you into his chest and kiss you, so he could tell you the one thing he wished he said ages ago.

But he doesn't. All he does is sit there and watch you read.

*********************************************

A few hours after Sam and you have fallen asleep Dean lays in his bed and stares up at the ceiling. He can hear your soft breaths against the pillow, the crinkle of the sheets as you move in your sleep. Usually he allowed himself to fall asleep listening to you, but tonight all it did was keep him awake. Each time he shut his eyes he saw the memory of you in bed with him burning against his eyelids and each time he shut his eyes he heard the real you telling him that you loved him.

Finally, he can't take it anymore.

Dean gets up and makes his way over to the pull-out couch, pausing once to move the paperback book out from under your head. It wasn't the first time that you'd fallen asleep reading, and Dean thought it was cute.

He slides into the bed behind you, gently touching your shoulder to wake you as quietly as possible.

"Hmm." You inhale softly.

"Y/n." Dean whispers.

He watches you turn towards him, eyes blinking in the darkness to rouse yourself from sleep. You hair is flared out over the pillows, eyes hazy. “Dean what are you-“

Dean moves his arm to your waist before pulling you flush into his chest, lips finding yours. The memories of the kiss in his dream are everywhere, but none of them compare to this. You sigh into his mouth, bringing your hands into his hair. Dean breathes you in. You still taste like apple pie, body soft against his, lips smooth and welcoming.

“I love you too.” He whispers against your mouth, eyes finding yours in the darkness of the hotel room.

Your smile breaks him. “It made you see us didn’t it?”

“How did you know?”

“The way you looked when you came out. The way you looked at me. I think it’s the same way I looked at you when I woke up." You brush back his hair and Dean can't help but lean forward into your touch. "What did it make you see?"

“We were married. You were pregnant and I was working at a garage. My parents were alive. Jessica was alive-“

“Oh Dean.” You cup his cheeks with a sorrowful expression, before brushing your lips against his. “I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Dean brings you into his chest, laying on his back so you can rest your head on his heart. His hand slowly traces up and down your spine. You both lie there for a few moments. The subtle beat of your heart soothing the sadness that rises with the memory of his mother and father. Your hand gently rests against his shirt, fingers curling into the soft fabric.

“I missed you.” He hears you whisper into his chest.

“What?” Dean doesn't understand. "Where did I go?"

“Not like that. I know that it sounds stupid, but we were so happy in the dream. It made me miss you, miss this.” He feels you rub your face into the front of his shirt.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Dean you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose any of this.” You prop yourself up look him in the eye. “I’m happy here with you and Sam. Y’all are my family and I didn’t want to jeopardize that just because I’m in love with you.”

“Did you think I would have made you leave if you told me that?” Dean can’t help but feel hurt. Sure it would have been awkward for a little bit, but I’d never do that to y/n.

“Not made me leave, more phase me out. It would have made all of this awkward and-“ He watches the weight settle on your shoulders as you press your forehead into the space between his collar bone and neck. “I’ve lost so many things. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Dean squeezes you to him. “You’re not going to lose me sweetheart.” He traces a fingertip under your chin to raise your face to his. “I love you. And even if I didn’t, you’re my family too. I wouldn’t make you leave just because it was a little awkward. We’ve all been through too much together for that.” Dean’s thumb rubs soft circles against your cheek.

“I love you too.” You whisper, the soft smile gracing your lips  mirrors the memory from the dream, but this time it fills him with warmth and comfort, because this time he knows it’s real.  It's not some Djinn messing with his head, it's you. You lean upwards to kiss him gently, while Dean weaves his hand through you hair to secure you to him.

But then you pull away, your smile slipping into a smirk. “So when you say family, are you saying you see me as a sister or a cousin? Because, I don’t know how things are in Kansas, but where I'm from, that's kind of a red flag.“

Dean sighs loudly. Before he rolls you over and pins you to the bed, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

“Oh. So as a sister-“ You joke.

“You are one of the most annoying people on the planet.”

“I know. It’s why you love me.” You trace his lips with your index finger, gazing up at him the same way the dream version of you did.

Dean feels warmth trail behind your touch. “One of the reasons at least.”

But just as he leans to kiss you again-

“If you guys don’t shut up I’m not going to get any sleep.” Sam grumbles from his bed. “I could have told you two idiots, that you loved one another and it would have taken five seconds.”

“You don’t have to eavesdrop-“ You say glaring over in the direction of Sam’s bed.

“Kinda hard not to when you guys are making out. LOUDLY. I might add.”

“Gonna have to get used to it Sammy.” Dean snorts, before pushing your hair back behind your ear and drawing your gaze back to his face.

“Next time you guys are getting your own room.” Sam continues. “That way I can get some sleep.”

“Doesn’t seem very economical.” You say, but you’re gazing up at Dean again with the smile that makes him feel like he’d swallowed the sun. “I love you.” Your voice is barely a whisper.

“I love you too.” Dean leans down once more to capture your lips against his, erasing all semblance of everything else, except the feel of your body beneath him and the warmth that surges with each breath as the dream of you becomes a reality.

*********************************************

Thank you so much for reading!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader #sam winchester

[tiktaalic]

heres what we are told. in the supernatural finale.

sam (straight) gets married to a woman.

john (straight) lives with his dead wife mary

rufus (straight) lives with a woman he NEVER met while alive but is crazy hot crazy talented crazy cool and a crazy pull.

cas (gay) is rebuilding heaven with his son. this son explicitly referred to as dean's son not only in the text but in this very episode. while bobby is explaining how every other man (heterosexual) is living with a wife he also says and dean your son is here hanging out with castiel. word for word just about. sequence of events:

That kid of yours, before he went… wherever, made some changes here. Rufus lives about 5 miles that way… With Aretha. And your mom and dad… they got a place over yonder. Jack did all that? Well… Cas helped.

your kid. heterosexual man mention. heterosexual man mention. and your kid is with his other dad (gay) (your best friend) (man who you last saw when he told you he was gay and in love with you)

so it follows. if you were dean winchester . and you are prone to crushes of grandeur when you are alive. you could conceivably go. what floor the [HOT DEAD ACTRESS FROM THE 90S] on!!!!! but this is not what happens. curious . what happnes is your friend (gay) (father of your child) (you killed yourself the last time he died) gets mentioned and you crack a smile. and drive as far as you can from your father. because?

#I HAVE A FAMILY DOT MP3 #etxt #spnwatch

[casdeans-pie]

If I could pitch season 16 of Supernatural:

Dean wakes up and it turns out that everything from 15x18 was an Empty Nightmare because he actually grabbed Cas just before he got taken, so got pulled in too.

Sam and Jack have been trying to get them both out for 5 years.

Jack still got the God Powers but he's whimsical with them and retains his personality. He wants to try and preserve human free will. But also helps in small ways where he can. (and still pops into the bunker for a bowl of cereal from time to time)

Sam is the 'new Bobby' in the MOL bunker - sending out hunters and knowing all the lore about all the monsters. (Also he practices witchcraft on the side)

No blurry wife - Sam and Eileen are engaged - and no Dean Jr. But! they are considering having a kid soon. And! They can get married now that Dean and Cas are back!

Dean and Cas heartfelt reunion!!! Clinging hug!!!! Never let me go again!!!! We're not talking about the confession but we both want to!!!!! etc etc

Cas is still an angel and Jack offers to make him an archangel !! Cas feels like he should say yes out of obligation (even if he doesn't want to leave) but Dean actually FINALLY asks him. to stay? (Cas immediately declines Jack's offer)

Dean struggles with the memories of his Empty Nightmare. (It was just SO bad. But also he tries to describe Old Man Sam and his bad hair and that cheers him up.)

The original Death is back because he never really died, he just didn't want to be involved in all the Winchester shenanigans. But he's back now that all the world-ending chaos is over. (Tessa is also back as his second-in-command)

Billie is the new ruler over the Empty, and it's a place of eternal rest now. Very peaceful. Meg is there and she's having a great time relaxing.

Crowley comes back as a human for a second chance. He's still kind of an ass but he's lovable with it.

Lots of reunions and cameos. It's magic you can bring all sorts of characters back to life - a lot of them died unfairly in the first place. Bring them all back!

Dean! and! Cas! Kiss!

I want all the genres of kiss. Confused. Desperate. Relieved. Passionate. Tender.

The season is all very character focused and character driven and ties up any loose ends the show had left.

The drama comes from internal character struggles and with Dean and Cas figuring out where they fit into this 5 years on world now. (The answer is together doing whatever they want to and Dean comes to the realisation he wants to retire, but he struggles with reconciling that he wants to retire and Sam doesn't and they have to go on different paths now).

The series ends with the big Sam/Eileen wedding and it's just a huge party and gathering of all the cameos you can possibly think of. Friends, family, frenemies, some beloved characters who only appeared in one episode... they're all there.

Dean proposes to Cas by taking the loop from Baby's keys out of his pocket and getting down on one knee and using it like a ring stand-in (it's way too big but it's symbolic and cheesy and sweet and it doesn't matter)

Of course he says yes.

The end.

#this is barely coherent but I just had to get this all down asdfghjkl #spn s16 #destiel #post canon destiel #spn finale fix it

[castiwls]

champagne problems - d.w

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you."She would've made such a lovely bride. What a shame she's fucked in the head," they said'

Requested; @arcticwisteria

Notes; No the first time i heard this song I IMMEDIATELY thought of dean :( Also this is quite sad oop but I kinda flipped the prompt so its not the woman saying no but instead its the man it just fitted better in my head. requests are open!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

The tension in the room was thick. The clock ticking seemed to echo throughout the room getting louder and louder with each passing minute as you both sat in silence. For the first time in your relationship, you had no idea what to say or do. You felt helpless as you sat at the kitchen table, your hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically. “So,” You lay your hands flat on the table looking up at the man sitting opposite you. “This is it? Three years down the drain.” You nodded. You couldn’t help the bitterness that seemed to lace into your tone as you spoke.

The realistic part of your brain knew that it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t Dean’s fault that his childhood had messed him up so much that now as an adult he struggled with any relationship. You’d know what you were getting into when you’d first began this relationship. You’d known the baggage that came with loving Dean Winchester yet you’d pushed it away because you were so utterly in love with him.

Yet in this moment, you were wondering if you’d possibly made a mistake. If maybe you’d been so blinded with love that you’d overlooked one too many things. 

“Are you gonna say anything?” You flatted your hands on the table looking up at him. Dean’s gaze was locked on the wall behind you. “Dean! Say something…please.” Your voice broke off slightly at the last word. Dean’s eyes finally moved to yours and for the first time, you noticed the way his eyes seemed to glisten slightly. 

“I can’t marry you. I…I can’t” He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth before letting out an airy laugh. “I thought I could. I’ve thought about it for so long but…”

“But you can’t actually do it.” Your hands played with the small red box in your hands. You’d found it on accident a month ago. He’d hidden it in baby’s glove box and that’s where it had lay, slowly collecting dust for the past few months. “You bought the ring, but you can’t actually ask me.” You stared incredulously at him.

Placing the box beside you, you reached out to grasp one of his hands. “What if I asked you?” 

Dean stared at you for a moment. His expression unreadable. “No. He spoke quietly his gaze locked on your hands. “What?” You felt your eyes widen slightly at his bluntness. Dean took a breath before his eyes moved from your hands to your face. He placed his hand over you. “No. I can’t marry you. I thought…I thought the answer was a yes. Sweetheart believe me I did.” He softened his gaze as he watched your eyes slowly begin to fill with tears of their own.

“So what changed.” Your voice wavered slightly as you spoke. You wanted nothing more at this moment than to kick and scream to your heart’s content. “I realised I am far from husband material. That’s what.” A frown pulled at his lips. 

“How do you know that? You are a perfectly good boyfriend. If you weren’t I wouldn’t be sat here right now.” You swallowed trying to hold the tears which threatened to spill back. Dean let out a breath before slowly letting go of your hands. “Because I know I’m messed up alright. And I refuse to burden you with that. Being your boyfriend means you can walk away, I can let you go.” Dean rubbed a palm across his eyes, wiping away the tears which were slowly beginning to fall. “If we get married i can’t let you go.” He finished, his voice dropping to merely a whisper. 

You sucked in a breath, feeling the damn behind your eyes slowly begin to break. “Letting me go?” You shook your head. “No. No, I am not walking away from you Dean. I’m not walking away from us.” You said firmly feeling your face dampen with your tears.

You watched with bated breath as the man opposite you slowly rose from his seat and moved beside you. “Your gonna find someone else. Someone else who's gonna love you and who’s gonna get down on one knee and make you so happy.” He placed a hand on your cheek. “You're gonna get that apple pie life I know you’ve always wanted. But I can’t be the one to give you that.”

His thumb slowly stroked your cheek as his eyes slowly travelled across your face almost as if he was mapping it out. “I’m sorry.” He whispered before leaning forward to press his lips to yours.

Your hand gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. After a moment he pulled back. “I love you.” Dean smiled at you, tears slowly falling from his eyes as he stood from his seat. 

It killed him inside to walk away but he knew he had to. He could never be what you needed and with him in your life, you would never find what you needed.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn imagine #spn x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #jensen ackles #.mine #.spn #.deanwinchester

[little-diable]

My Greatest Fear - Dean Winchester (smut)

Don't say I didn't warn y'all. Inspired by Benson Boone's new song "My Greatest Fear". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean broke things off with the reader years ago, the biggest mistake of his life. But when Sam tells his brother that (y/n) is getting married, Dean knows it's time to make things right. He won't leave this life behind without being able to call her his once again.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, ex-lovers to lovers, some angst, lots of fluff tho, reader is a runaway bride

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)

Got a lot on my mind that keeps me up at night, I’m tossing and turning, thinking that my life’s gone to waste

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Dean shot the waitress a big smile as she placed his breakfast down, blushing as the handsome man winked at her. The older Winchester brother was too focused on his food to pick up on the uneasiness radiating off Sam, to focus on the sadness swimming in his brother’s pupils. 

“Fuck, that’s good.” Dean’s moans rumbled through him as he ate the greasy deliciousness, sipping on his coffee every now and then. It took him a while to lift his gaze, to allow his green eyes to focus on Sam’s untouched breakfast, forcing Dean’s eyebrows to furrow in confusion. “Not hungry? Shouldn’t you eat something after a long run?” 

“Mhm,” Sam’s eyes were focused on the window, unable to look at his brother any longer. His heart clenched in his chest, his mind was racing faster than it had in the past months, struggling to part his lips. 

“Sam,” Dean’s raspy voice forced Sam’s eyes back towards his older brother, unable to hold eye contact for long. “What’s wrong?” 

Dean had put down his breakfast burger while taking another sip of coffee. He patiently waited for Sam to speak, to spill whatever was visibly plaguing him. But Sam kept quiet, deeply inhaling as if he had to muster the strength to speak. Dean repeated his brother’s name, much quieter this time around, gentle almost – as if he had finally realised that whatever Sam was about to speak would hurt them both. 

“I received an email this morning.” It was a whisper, nothing more, words so obscurely simple that Dean couldn’t help but laugh. But Sam didn’t give in, killing Dean’s hope that Sam was simply fucking with him. Something heavy was about to claw through Sam, something heavy that could determine the outcome of this very day. “It was from Mary, (y/n)’s sister.”

Now it was on Dean to freeze, not expecting his brother to speak her name. Their eyes met, urging Sam to keep on speaking, to tell his brother about the email he had opened with shaky fingers, freezing in his step as he read the words she had written to him. 

“(Y/n)’s getting married, Dean.” Sam was forced to watch Dean sink back into the seat, arms crossed in front of his chest, uneasy eyes staring down at the table. And for a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the words sink in – words that had been Dean’s greatest fear ever since he had left her all these years ago. 

He had been stupid back then, too childish for his own good. Guided by his father’s words, he had dropped (y/n) and the life they could have lived together. His father had made pretty promises, telling his young son of women awaiting him, women he shouldn’t miss out on because of a marriage that would only tie him to (y/n), away from all the fun he could experience. The greatest mistake of his life, a mistake he hated himself for every single day. 

“That’s good for her. I’m happy she found somebody who treats her right.” The words pained Dean to speak, rolling off his tongue with a sharp edge that left Sam cringing. His hand found Dean’s forearm, gently squeezing his brother’s arm in a gesture so unfamiliar, Dean had to stop himself from shaking off Sam’s hand. 

“Dean, I’ve always loved her like a sister, I only want what’s best for her. But you’re my brother, I know how much not having her around scars you, I see it every day on your face. Get her back, try it at least.” 

Of all the things that I've been afraid to lose, my greatest fear of all is losing you

……

“I shouldn’t do this.” They were parked in front of the small church, eyes watching the big crowd of unfamiliar faces. Both Dean and Sam were wearing a suit, knowing that they had to blend in with the wedding guests to find their way to (y/n). “Why should she take me back? Why should she even listen to me?”

“Dean, if there is one thing I know it’s that she still loves you. Let’s get your girl back.” Sam was first to step out into the warm morning, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses as they walked up to the crowd. He felt Dean close, not daring to speak up with his choked-up throat, with his heart pounding in his chest, knowing that this would be his only shot to make things right for once in his life. 

“Mary!” Sam’s voice echoed through the air, eyes focused on the frame of (y/n)’s sister. The young woman flung herself into Sam’s open arms, chuckling into his neck as he held her close for a moment. A moment too long for Dean who was growing more antsy with every passing second. 

“Thank you for coming. She’s making a mistake, Sam. You’re my only hope with this.” The words left Dean frozen, confused eyes flickering between his brother and Mary. He hadn’t read the email Mary had sent to Sam, hadn’t asked any further questions about the man (y/n) was about to marry, trusting that he was somebody she loved. “Come, I’ll bring you to her.”

“What the fuck man?” Dean growled the words at Sam as he followed them through the crowd and towards a small house built near the church. Sam fell into pace with his brother, watching Mary lead them towards the place where (y/n) was currently getting ready. 

“Well, you didn’t think I’d let you do this without knowing (y/n) would willingly leave her fiancé, did you? I wouldn’t destroy her happiness just like that, Dean.” Realistically, Dean should have known that Sam wouldn’t just push him into this without knowing that there was a chance to get her back. Sam had hated him for a while after he had left (y/n), punishing Dean for breaking her heart at any given chance, a broken bond that had needed months to be repaired. 

“(Y/n)? I brought two special guests.” Mary’s voice echoed through the small cabin, ringing in the brother’s ears as they waited outside. Dean felt his hands tremble, forced to let go of deep exhales as Mary opened the door for them, allowing them to step inside. His eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s like a moth to a flame, and his world stopped spinning, unable to focus on anything but her.

It took (y/n) a second to react, seemingly confused about the appearance of the two hunters she hadn’t seen in years. She was pulled into a hug by Sam, giving Dean another moment to admire her, the white dress she wore – a sight he had only seen in his dreams, imagining this very day, with him waiting at the altar for her. Dreams that had evaporated into a hazy nothingness the day he had left her. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” She sank into Dean’s grasp, clinging to him as if he hadn’t been the man who had broken her heart all these years ago. He watched his brother and Mary leave the cabin, giving the two some time alone as they kept on holding one another. 

“What are you doing here, Dean?” (Y/n) mumbled the words against the fabric of his suit jacket, not caring about smudging her make-up, not caring about anything but the way Dean held her close – as if he hadn’t ever stopped holding her. Carefully, Dean let her go, needing to give them some distance for the words he was about to speak, knowing that this could escalate any moment now. 

“I can’t let you marry another man without telling you that leaving you was my greatest mistake. A life without you has always been my biggest fear, I was stupid, so fucking stupid, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have listened to Dad, I should have married you right that day. And I hate myself for not doing it, for letting you go when you have always been my whole world. I know there is no chance for me to make things right, and even though Sammy and Mary hope that I will sweep you off of your feet and bring you back home to us, I know I can’t.” Tears dripped from her eyes, tears (y/n) didn’t care to wipe away. 

“I hated you for years, you broke me, Dean. You took away my life, my friends, the people I had grown to love. You ripped my heart right out of my chest, and even though I tried to fight for it, to regain its strength, I miserably failed. I should curse you, should tell you to fuck off and never show your face to me again. But I can’t. For Christ’s sake, Dean. What are we doing here?” He cupped her face with shaking fingers, letting his forest-green eyes run over her gorgeous face. 

“I want to kill him for getting a chance to love you, time that has been wasted because of me. But I don’t want to take another choice from you. If you want to marry him, I will watch from the first row, hell, I’ll even carry your veil.” His voice shook as he whispered the words, growing tense as (y/n) rested her hands on top of his, still cupping her cheeks.

“And if I don’t want to marry him?” 

……

I'm scared to take another picture of you, 'cause I'm scared to have another thing that I can lose, oh, dear, who am I without you here?

“I thought you were taking me home, where are we going?” Her laughter echoed through Baby, eyes set on Dean’s grinning features. They had left the church a while ago, running away like she had secretly hoped they would. (Y/n) had always been a dreamer, a dreamer who had pictured that very moment since the day it had dawned on her – about to marry a man she didn’t love. A man who wasn’t Dean Winchester. 

“We’ve got another thing to take care of first, I am not losing any more time.” Baby screeched to a halt in front of a pink church, a sight that left (y/n) confused, and Dean and Sam chuckling. They made their way into the church, with her fingers interlaced with Dean’s, with her white wedding gown clinging to her frame, with his suit hugging his frame. 

“Dean, Sam, I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you two around here!” An elderly man greeted them with a big smile. His brown eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s almost instantly, with a knowing smile growing on his lips – a smile that had an almost proud touch to it. “That’s her, huh? Took you quite some time, didn’t it.” “(Y/n), that’s Danny, an old friend of ours we met on a hunt. He could wed us, with Sammy as our witness, if you’ll have me.” Her heart had stopped beating, skipping a few beats as Dean’s words sank in. Her teary eyes found his and with a laugh clawing through her, she pressed a kiss to his lips, drawing a groan out of Dean, who tried to prolong the kiss for as long as possible. 

“I will always have you, Dean.” She was pulled towards the altar, unable to stop her tears from dripping as Danny began speaking a prayer she paid no attention to. All (y/n) could do was study Dean, the love swimming in his pupils, the way he looked at her as if she was his sun, alighting the darkest days with her mere presence. A soul crafted for his to hold onto, to love till their time together would eventually run out. 

“Do you have any rings?” Danny’s soft voice ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, about to whisper a soft, disappointed “No”, but before she could even part her lips, Sam excitedly spoke up. Her eyes watched the tall Winchester brother, how he reached for his breast pocket to expose a small envelope to her glassy eyes. Wordlessly he pushed it towards Dean, who opened it with an unwavering smile stuck to his lips. 

“I bought these rings years ago, sure to eventually push yours down on your finger. I am sorry it took me this long.” Her sob left Dean chuckling, exposing his also teary eyes to hers. She had held onto all these longings for years, mere dreams that were now finally turning real – as if she was just sleeping through another longing. 

But, you're here, now, and that makes it better, somehow

……

“Let me.” Dean’s soft voice filled his bedroom. He was standing behind (y/n), carefully helping her out of her wedding dress with his gaze focused on the ring clinging to his finger. The past hours had flown by all too quickly, turning her from a runaway bride into his wife. His wife. A title so unfamiliar, Dean had to fight against the urge to pinch himself.

His for eternity. His to love. His to worship. 

“I love you, Dean.” (Y/n) whispered her words as she stepped out of her dress, exposing her underwear-clad frame to his hungry eyes. She was pulled into a teeth-chasing kiss, a kiss dripping with emotions that made her feel all too dizzy, having to hold onto Dean before she could be ripped into another dimension. 

“I love you too, sweetheart. And I’m so fucking sorry for missing out on this for years.” He pressed her down on the mattress, giving her a show as he slowly undressed. Her body was aching for him, needing to feel Dean close after all these long years apart. 

“Stop apologising with words and show me that you truly mean them.” His lips kissed her chest, the valley between her breasts as he undid her bra, exposing her hardening nipples to his twinkling eyes. Dean could cum just from the sight of her naked frame, a sight he had only seen in his dreams for the past years, not daring to imagine being this fortunate again. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. I promise to worship you for as long as you want me to.” Dean’s raspy words vibrated on her skin, covering her body with goosebumps as he kneaded her soft flesh. His cock was pressed against her clothed heat, drawing moans from her whenever he moved against her heat, desperate for the kind of friction that left them both trembling.

“I need you inside of me, Dean.” Her raspy whispers left him groaning against her skin as she raised her hips to help him pull her damp panties down her legs. Just this morning, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, knowing that she’d think of Dean when her husband touched her, a loveless marriage she would have been trapped in. 

“Are you still on birth control?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, mind taken up by the feeling of his wandering hands, keeping her pressed against him. Dean's cock twitched against her naked cunt, brushing through her arousal-covered folds to coat himself, “I love you, and I’ll do my best to prove it to you for the rest of our lives.”

“I love you too, Dean.” He pushed into her with a groan, forehead falling against hers as she fluttered around him. It felt as if he had entered paradise, falling to rest on clouds covering his body. She was his Elysium, his safe haven, the one where Dean could be the truest version of himself. 

He moved slowly at first, both needed some time to adjust to one another after all these years, but the second their bodies relaxed, properly enjoying one another’s closeness, Dean began to move faster. Their bodies met with every thrust, eyes holding a contact so intense, (y/n) feared her heart would explode right in her chest. 

Dean was taking his time with her, this wasn’t a rushed fuck to make up for all the time lost, no, it was so much more. This was the purest form of love, a one-of-a-kind love both had clung to in lonely nights, with wandering minds and trembling hands. This is what they had been destined to have, years ago – a love they were now rediscovering. 

“You feel so good, baby.” He felt her clenching around his cock, drawing another gritty sound out of Dean. (Y/n) was long gone, pushed into another dimension where she only knew Dean, nothing but his love, his touch, his irrevocable longing for her. Sensations she was taken hostage by, unable to shake them. 

His warm fingertips found her pulsing bundle, circling it with just enough pressure to draw his name out of her. (Y/n) could feel her orgasm slithering its way up her body, whispering to her to hold onto her husband, and with her fingernails clawed into Dean’s shoulders, she came. He followed her right down the edge, moaning against her lips as their bodies were moulded together. 

“Fuck, we’ll have to do that all through the night, husband.” (Y/n) whispered the words as a few heavy pants left her, making a laugh claw out of Dean who chased her slightly swollen lips for another kiss. 

“Trust me, I won’t let you leave our bed for weeks, wife.” 

Don't know how the broken pieces fit together if you leave it, so, don't go, don't go, I would take your hand if I could reach it

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester x reader #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural

[princessmisery666]

Just Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. Part 3 of 3. Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating. 

W/C: 4,901.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills. 

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.

It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself. 

So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks? 

Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings. 

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers. 

“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?” 

“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?” 

“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”

“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.

“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”

“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?” 

“What? No!”

Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”

“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.” 

“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”

Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”

“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.

Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.

Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it. 

“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.

The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”

You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.

That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.

The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.

It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry. 

The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!” 

You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.

Asshole. How dare he judge you! 

“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares. 

You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”

Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.

“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.” 

You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.

“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy. 

Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”

“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation. 

“That’s the one.” 

“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”

You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her. 

“Thank you, Miss…” 

“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom. 

You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.” 

If only she knew. 

You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder. 

“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.” 

You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you. 

Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.

“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean. 

“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.  

“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?” 

He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”

“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.

You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?” 

“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.” 

“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.

The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them. 

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”

“Probably, but that's his problem.”

Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.

“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.

That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”

“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”

You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with. 

“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?” 

“Girls versus boys?”

“Obviously.”

He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back. 

He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.” 

He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks. 

Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly. 

“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.

The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.

You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer. 

You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“For what?” he asks. 

“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”

“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.” 

“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”

“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.” 

He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home. 

Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away. 

“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.

“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.” 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.

“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking. 

He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.” 

“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.

The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared. 

Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.” 

“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”

He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.

He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure. 

He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”

You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?” 

“Only if you say yes?”

“Pick me up at ten.”

He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.

You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.

Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.

“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once. 

“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”

“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown. 

“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”

“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”

You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you. 

“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”

“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.” 

“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.” 

“We were going to get married.”

You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.

“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”

Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.

Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”

Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.

“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”

Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”

“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.

Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.

Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.

“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”

Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.” 

“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”

“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”

You grimace, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.” 

He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”

You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice. 

The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”

Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.

‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago. 

A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand. 

Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.

Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.

He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.

He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?

But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.

“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”

He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time. 

“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room. 

“I did it already,” he calls after you. 

“I’ll put it in the dryer then.” 

He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.

“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.” 

You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress. 

“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile. 

“Say what?” 

He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”

“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….” 

“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.” 

He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.” 

You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.” 

“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him. 

“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”

“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”

“I get why you’re…”

The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.

He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.

The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself. 

He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.

At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.” 

You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.

Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.

He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”

The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass. 

“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”

You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.

You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”

Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity. 

“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.” 

“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.” 

He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”

You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”

Tags info

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Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

#dean winchester #jacklesversebingo23 #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #reader insert #female reader #dean winchester angst #spn fanfic #angst #spn fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fandom #dean winchester x you #you x dean winchester

[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

[kaleldobrev]

Dean Winchester Masterlist

A rebloggable Dean Winchester Masterlist for your viewing and reading pleasure. All stories are Dean Winchester x F. Reader unless otherwise stated

Authors Note: Will update this as I post more stories

Come on Tiger (823) | You convince Dean to come to bed

You’re Not Normal (College AU) (556) | The reader and Dean become friends in a weird way

Happy Father’s Day (1.2k) |It’s Father’s Day, and the reader has some news to tell Dean

One Day (1.2k) | The reader and Dean talk about their dream life away from hunting

You Don’t Mean That (Demon!Dean) (2.3k) | Sam and the reader finally find Dean and bring him back to the Bunker. Sam says not to talk to Dean before they cure him, but the reader has other plans.

I Love The Way You… (2.9k) | Dean wants to propose to you but isn’t really sure how, so he asks Sam, Jody, and Donna for help

Nightmare Cure (1.6k) | You struggle with nightmares. So Dean comes up with a way to help you.

Autumn Vibes (1.2k) | Dean creates a new recipe in honor of the fall season.

A Date with Dean: Lucky Strikes (5.8k) | Dean and you go bowling for this weeks date night. But decide to make it a little bit more interesting.

The Comforts of a Winchester (2.2k) | Having a nightmare sucks, but at least you have Dean to comfort you.

I Dream of You (1.7k) | Dean dreams of a life with you, but do you?

Pizza, Beer & Zeppelin IV (1.2k) | Dean is surprised to find out what your ideal first date is; and he’s more than happy to oblige

You Deserve Love (2k) | Sometimes Dean needs reassurance that you love him

A Small Part of You (2.3k) | Although Dean is gone, at least you’ll always have a part of him

I Love Her, That’s Why (2.2k) | Dean thought that he was doing a pretty good job at hiding his feelings for you…until Jack started asking questions.

You Make Me Happy (2.3k) | With you doing what he believes to be an incredibly reckless thing on a hunt, Dean finally realizes how much you really mean to him

Old Man (3.4k) | Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way

Without Hesitation, Yes (2.6k) | After all these years, Dean finally asks you to marry him.

Spitting Image (2.8k) | You think Dean looks like one of your favorite characters. Dean on the other hand…doesn’t see the resemblance.

Come Back Home (4.5k) | After a relationship ending argument that caused you to leave the Bunker, you and Dean haven’t heard from/seen each other in over a year. Are there still sparks between you two? The better question is: Did they ever truly leave in the first place?

Daddy in a Different Way (2.5k) | A simple misunderstanding leads an older woman to believe that you and Jack are together, not you and Dean. But Dean does a “very good job” at clearing things up…But maybe not in the best way.

Pumpkin Muffins (930) | You and Dean decide to try new nicknames for each other

Days Like These (1.4k) | You and Dean decide to spend the day in while it’s raining outside.

Mutual Pining (4.3k) | Dean and you are in love with each other, and it’s obvious to everyone but the two of you

Please Don’t Leave (2k) | Dean’s lucky to have you in his life and honestly doesn’t know what he would ever do without you

New Record (1k) | Dean and you set a new record

Pillow Talk (1.2k) | A common theme of yours and Dean’s pillow talks happen to be about having that white picket fence and apple pie life

Happy Anniversary (Non-Hunters AU) (2k) | You and Dean celebrate your 18-year wedding anniversary

It’s Okay (1.8k) | Dean’s a little jealous that Sam still talks to you and not him

I Finally Get It (2.7k) | Dean thinks he looks like a character from one of your favorite slasher films. You on the other hand…don’t see the resemblance.

Genuinely Happy (506) | You and Dean enjoy a nice car ride together while you admire how genuinely happy he looks

Coming & Going (1.8k) | You want Dean to stay, but will he?

What Are We? (2.1k) | Dean and you do a lot of couple things together but yet…you’re not a couple, and you often wonder why.

Stupidest Person Alive (1.7k) | After a near death experience in which you almost lost Dean, you tell him that you can’t risk losing him again.

The Day Before (743) | Dean comforts you when you get a migraine

Once Mine (Michael!Dean) (1.3k) | Michael thinks him possessing Dean can be a win-win for the both of you

Knew You’d Come Around (Michael!Dean) (1.5k) | Michael’s happy you’ve finally come around

Comfortable? (516) | Falling asleep in Dean’s lap while he’s driving

Would You Like To… (978) | You and Dean have been dating for a few months, and now he’s trying to figure out how to ask you to move into his room

Midnight Confessions (1k) | You and Dean have a “heart-to-heart” conversation on the way to Stanford to pick up Sam

Hauled Up (1.5k) | Sam recruits you to try and convince Dean to stop hauling up in his room

When You’re Ready (1.8k) | A case hits you particularly hard and all you want to do is be alone

Never the Favorite (844) | You finally try and set the record straight

Screw Consciousness (410) | Taking a nap with Dean after a long drive

Things Overheard (2k) | Dean overhears a private conversation between you and Sam

I’ve Got Ya (162) | Dean trying to comfort you after a nightmare

Blush (389) | For the first time in your life, you can say you’ve made Dean Winchester blush

Taste (657) | Dean going down on you in the back of Baby

Under Control (2.3k) | Dean keeps reassuring you that he has everything under control in terms of the Mark. But does he really?

Not the Same (Endverse AU) (4.7k) | Part One | Part Two

Coffee Kisses (3.3k) | Part One | Part Two

Old Man / Age Gap Universe

Shiny New Toy (Demon!Dean)

Supernatural: Purgatory Masterlist | 3/? parts done

My Hero Masterlist | ¾ parts done

Dean dressing up as a cowboy for a case and using Old West style pick-up lines

Introducing Dean to phone apps

Going to karaoke night with Dean at a bar

Pretending to be married to Dean for a case

Eating Halloween candy with Dean

Being one of the only witches Dean can stand

Getting Dean the perfect birthday present

Dean still worrying about you even though you’ve broken up

Dean still answering your calls even though you’ve broken up

Finding out you’re Dean’s soulmate from Apocalypse World Michael

Wanted Posters (Incorrect Quotes)

Dating Dean Poem/Moodboard

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #spn one shot #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader #fluff #smut #spn drabble #supernatural drabble #spn drabbles #supernatural drabbles #kaleldobrev dean winchester masterlist

[nights-ofren]

I genuinely don't understand why anybody (besides Jensen) is excited at the idea of more Supernatural. If they do bring it back it'll just be more of the same. It'll be worse than the finale, I guarantee it. It'll be written by the same shitty writers and directed by the same shitty directors and produced by the same boring old straight white paycheck-cashing producers. Misha either won't be in it at all or he'll be in it just enough for them to make a joke of his goodbye scene. I guarantee if the confession gets mentioned at all it'll be a one-scene awkward brush off with the cheesy its-a-joke! no homo! comedy segue music behind it. They'll have Cas and Dean both act embarrassed and agree to never mention it again and then cough bacon cough football cough guns haha oh no we're being attacked by monsters! Here's a shitty ten minute fight scene to fill time so we don't have to talk about this gay shit anymore! Seriously. It'll be a boring cringe fest, directed by Bob Singer. Just like the finale. But longer. NOTHING has changed in the three years since the show ended. Nothing. If it comes back it'll just be more of the same. You remember how Andrew Dabb said at Comic Con the year before the show ended "if you hated the end of Game of Thrones just wait!" and people thought he was joking? Yeah. That. But "if you hated the SPN ending just wait til you see the garbage we haven't got planned for the short season streaming reboot!" Oh you thought it couldn't get any worse than the finale? Just wait til you see what they can't do with an even LOWER budget now that all the white dudes involved are even OLDER and have LESS time to make it! You thought The Winchesters special effects were embarrassingly bad? Just wait! You thought we couldn't possibly treat Misha Collins any worse? Just wait!

*deep sigh*

I have to agree with you anon. As much as little day dreamer me would love a new season (or at least a better epilogue) where Cas returns, Dean declares his love, they get married a go live in a white picket fence house, we WON'T.

so I would honestly keep living in "fix-it" land where marvellous authors and artists give us the ending we all hoped for and deserved, but not get canon ruin it even more for us :(

#castiel #destiel #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #misha collins #jensen ackles #spn finale

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

The Whore of Winchester

Note: yes, I'm still alive and managed to finally get this little fic out, this could be the start of a huge fic I've been plotting for months in secret :)

Warnings: 18+ suggestive/light smut, reader is a whore so there's that.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Finan brought you a new client.

wordcount: 1,6k

Masterlist

Chapter 1.

Being a whore in Winchester wasn't a job you ever imagined doing, but there simply weren't many other possibilities for pretty ladies in the town. You didn't hate it, but you were also glad whenever you could take a day off. However, the owner of the whorehouse truly looked after you and the other girls, and there were very rarely situations that left one harmed or upset. You knew that wasn't the case in every whorehouse, so you did count yourself lucky to be working at one where people cared about your wellbeing and safety.

You often had the same men who visited you a few times a week, or who would visit you whenever they were in town during their travels, and many of them were priests or Saxon men with families in different towns, but never Danes. Having a rather steady clientele made sure you could always afford food and a roof above your head, but you were careful with each client who wanted to see you again, seeking out their intentions. And you weren't the only one who had regulars, the other girls did too. One of them was frequently visited by Lord Uhtred, before he got married to Lady Gisela, and you knew he was a good man who protected the city and sometimes even the alehouse and the whorehouse you worked at. 

But Uhtred was rarely alone. He always had a man next to him, an Irish man to be more precise, and his name was Finan. Finan was a man who had visited you on several occasions too, so you weren't surprised when he showed up one evening asking around for you. You caught the whispers in the hallways that Finan was looking for you, so you quickly tied up your hair and straightened your linen dress before you made haste to find him.

The bar downstairs of the whorehouse was warm, crowded and loud. The smell of ale, sweat and smoked meat lingered in the air while you made your way through the crowd, feeling your worn out shoes stick to the floor at times where drinks had spilled, men had puked and blood had been shed during fights earlier that evening. You spotted the dark haired man near one of the far corners and you pushed past the countless men who gave you their best smiles, despite missing most of their teeth and stinking like swines they still thought they could win your heart, but they never would. You tapped the Irish man's shoulders once you were close enough, and you cleared your throat.

'Finan?' you smiled, 'I hear you are asking for me. Are you in need of a nice evening?' you batted your lashes at the Irish man, knowing he was kind and paid royally.

'My beautiful lady,' Finan smirked and kissed your hand, 'this time it is not me who is looking for a hump,' he said and firmly gripped the shoulder of a young man next to him, 'this stallion is in desperate need to be taken care of.'

'Is he now?' you asked, teasingly.

You looked the unfamiliar man up and down. He was tall, lean and very handsome. He was a bit younger than Finan and Uhtred, but he was a man regardless. You could tell he had long hair, which was braided and tied in the back, and he had several tattoos on his fingers and one in his neck. You caught a glimpse of his eyes when he looked up at you, and you noticed they were both differently coloured before he quickly averted his eyes again.

'Aye,' Finan grinned, 'his name is Sihtric, and he's a Dane.'

'A… Dane?' you furrowed your brow, 'a Dane in… in Winchester?'

'Aye. He's the bastard son of Kjartan the Cruel,' Finan said, and you gasped lightly, 'but do not worry, my lady. He may have come to us as a spy, but he has sworn loyalty to Uhtred and he's been with us ever since. And now,' he squeezed the young man's shoulder, 'he deserves to have a treat for his loyalty.'

'Well,' you chuckled and brushed your fingers over Sihtric's biceps, 'you know I can give him a treat,' you winked.

'Exactly,' Finan smiled, 'that's why I brought him to you. So,' he cleared his throat, 'I'll be off. He has silver to pay you with, so make sure to take care of him, aye?'

You laughed and shook your head lightly as the Irish man left, and you took Sihtric's hand. You slowly pulled him with you through the packed alehouse, up the stairs and to the room where you always did your job. Sihtric followed you eagerly, his hand was warm and a little damp. You could tell he was nervous, but his excitement was more prominent and he relaxed fairly easily once you had him sit on the bed. 

Candles lit up your small room and the smell of hay from the stables outside was always there, but it covered the foul air from the alehouse downstairs. You locked the door and Sihtric leaned back on the bed as you returned to him, inviting you to hike up your skirt and straddle his lap. The wooden bedframe creaked lightly as you seated yourself onto his lap, and you were deaf to the faint sound of a brawl just outside your window, as you only heard the Dane's slow, heavy breathing.

'So, Sihtric,' you purred and began to slowly work his leather belt, 'a Dane, hm?' you chuckled, 'I've never been with a Dane before.'

Sihtric hummed softly and chuckled, then looked up at you and wetted his dry, chapped lips with the tip of his tongue as he looked you up and down. 'I'll try to not disappoint you, lady,' he said with a smooth, honeyed voice and a light accent, while a shy smile appeared on his face.

You felt a heat burn up inside of you at just the sound of his voice, something that had never happened to you before, and you knew you were in for a good time yourself too. Not only was your client handsome, but he also seemed well-mannered and, as you felt his arousal already pressed up against your unclothed folds, you already knew his size wouldn't disappoint you either.

'Well, we'll see about that, pretty boy,' you smiled and dropped his belt next to the bed, on the wooden floor. 'Tell me what you like,' you said while you trailed your hands up his muscular, veiny arms, and your fingers began to tug at the laces on his right shoulder, loosening his leather tunic.

'Anything,' Sihtric smiled, and he carefully placed his big hands on your waist while he gazed at your bosom in front of him.

'Anything?' you purred.

'Mhm,' Sihtric hummed again and looked down at your hands working his tunic, before he brought his eyes back to your breasts again.

'You like what you see?' you chuckled when you noticed the young man couldn't keep his eyes off you, and you moved your hands to his shoulders, then down his biceps.

Sihtric only hummed in reply and, before you took off his tunic, you slid off his golden arm rings which he wore one on each arm. Then you took off his golden neck ring too, each ring he had earned for doing good work, and you then began to untie the laces on both his sides. Once his tunic was finally off, leaving him in just his breeches, you admired his perfectly toned body with your hands and eyes.

'My,' you breathed as your hands explored the many scars on his near perfect, 'what a sight to behold. Not many ladies are lucky to be visited by a handsome man such as yourself.'

'Is that so?' Sihtric smiled up at you, a hint of shyness lingered in his eyes while his voice betrayed his cockiness, 'then we are both lucky, my lady, for not many whores are as beautiful as you.'

You felt yourself blush at his words, another thing that was new to you, for no man had ever set your cheeks ablaze like this Dane did. You smiled at him while you slowly pushed the top of your dress down, exposing your breasts completely.

'You are not married?' you asked and took his hands, placing them onto your fully revealed flesh.

'I am not,' Sihtric hummed and his rough, warm hands squeezed you firm, but gentle.

You grinded in his lap as you still straddled him, feeling his bulge twitch underneath you with excitement while you could barely contain yourself for once. Your hands squeezed his shoulders as you began to pick up your pace, adding more pressure while you continued to tease not only him, but also yourself. Sihtric soon became needier, his breath raspy while he watched with adoration how you rutted against him so desperately. You then stopped your movements and got off him, sliding your dress down and stepping out of the fabric once on the floor, while the Dane wasted no time and pulled down his breeches just far enough to free his length. Your mouth watered and the tension in your core became unbearable at the sight of his hard cock, precum oozing from the tip as he gave himself a few strokes. He slowly drew in his bottom lip, his eyes fixated on you entirely while he slowly worked himself, his muscular chest heaving up and down fast while his breathing became heavier with each stroke. His mismatched eyes darted all over you, from your face, to your breasts, to your thighs, down and up your legs and to your cunt, only to look back into your eyes again. Then, you stepped closer and laid yourself upon the bed, spreading your legs slowly which earned you a needy grunt from Sihtric while he still touched himself at the sight of you.

'Show me how a Dane does it,' you breathed and bit down a smile while you beckoned him over, 'use me, Sihtric, and don't stop until you're satisfied.'

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @andakth @succnfuccubus @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1 @foxyanon @djarinsgirl27 @sigtryggrswifey @diiickbrainn @sihtricsafin @lexwolfhale @dixie-elocin @m-a-s-h-k-a

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #have i wasted much time to really look at his tunic for this silly little story??? perhaps

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Forever Hold Your Peace

Summary: Dean and Y/N dated for years, but his hunting lifestyle means he’s unwilling to move past dating. A few years later, Y/N invites Dean to her wedding to another man. A man who isn’t right for her, one she doesn’t love, one she hopes Dean stops her from marrying.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (past)

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: The quote: “You’re never going to have a happy ending—just remember that.” for @j3bingo. This quote will be in bold.

Warnings: implied smut, double date, insecurities, wedding jitters, religious wedding ceremony (not overly descriptive), heart-to-heart, cheating, smut, fingering, oral sex (m rec), unprotected p in v, creampie, break up.

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I’d like to start by saying that this is fiction, and I do not condone cheating in any capacity. I personally think it’s vile and unforgivable. With that being said, a little brainstorming session for this fic resulted in a cheating plot bunny that my muse would not leave alone and this is what happened. Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

My Masterlist     AO3     Ko-Fi

“Dean!” you giggle as your boyfriend nuzzles at your neck, pulling the hem of your dress up. “We’re going to be late!”

“Don’t care,” Dean skims his fingers over your panties, groaning when he feels the damp spot already there. “Haven’t seen you in weeks, baby, and I need you. Now.”

You don’t argue with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards your lips.

Walking into the restaurant twenty minutes late, your hand rests on Dean’s forearm as he guides you slowly and carefully to your table, being mindful of your high-heeled feet. 

You grin, remembering what your boyfriend had done to you not half an hour ago and how he’s still taking his sweet time and is sure to be pissing Sam off with every second you’re late.

“Finally!” Sam groans as you reach the table. Dean, always the gentleman, pulls your chair out and tucks it back in, checking that you’re comfortable before he takes his seat.

“I know that look,” Eileen grins, and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“I’m sorry we’re late,” you say bashfully.

“Don’t be. I know you haven’t seen each other in six weeks,” Eileen smirks.

“Eight,” you blurt out. “Not that I’m counting.” Chuckles ripple through around the table, and Dean places his hand on your thigh and squeezes.

“So, what did you guys want to tell us?” Dean asks the couple sitting across from you.

“We’re engaged!” Eileen says, throwing her hand out to flash her ring.

“Oh my God, congratulations, guys!” you gush, standing to hug the couple. You’re genuinely happy for them. Sam and Eileen are made for each other, but it’s tinged with some sadness because you wish you were the one sporting a gorgeous, sparkling diamond ring and planning your wedding and future with Dean.

“Now Dean just needs to get his shit together and finally propose. It’s been five years, dude. Put a ring on it already!” Sam teases him, and you laugh good-naturedly but can’t help but notice your boyfriend isn’t even trying to pretend to be humoured as he scowls at his best friend.

Dean is quiet and withdrawn for the rest of the evening. The thick tension that fills the car ride home makes the insecurities you have about your relationship resurface.

While he’s never given you reason to doubt that he loves you or finds you attractive, his reluctance to take your relationship further and get engaged is starting to wear on you.

“Are you okay, De?” you ask cautiously. It’s not the first time someone has asked him about proposing - Sam and his friends never stop asking, but every time, Dean would push you away and pull into himself.

“Fine,” he nods, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. You know he’s not fine, but you don’t want to push. He clams up whenever someone mentions getting engaged, making you think you’re not worthy of him or good enough to be his wife.

You know it’s not healthy to ignore the issue, and you know if you want to know what’s going on here, you need to be the one to bring it up, but you’re scared. You love him deeply. Dean is your everything. And if you have this conversation with him, it could end your relationship. But you can’t keep going like this. You want to get married, and if it’s not what he wants, then you don’t think you can stay with him.

Caught up in your thoughts, you don’t notice you’re in Dean’s apartment until he throws his keys on the sideboard. 

“We’re okay, right?” It comes out of your mouth before you’ve thought about it, and you know there’s no backing down now. You and Dean are having this conversation tonight. “Because every time someone gets engaged or mentions us getting engaged, you clam up and shut me out. What is it? Do you not want to get married? Or do you just not want to marry me?”

“Can we not do this right now? Please, Y/N?” Dean asks, defeat clear in his tone.

“I think we need to, Dean.”

TWO YEARS LATER

“Y/N, honey, you look beautiful!” Your mother gushes when she sees you in your champagne wedding gown.

“Thanks, Mom,” you smile, straightening the front of the dress.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, taking your hands to stop you from fidgeting.

“Nervous,” you chuckle, and your mom smiles.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t!” she giggles. “Let’s get a few photos before you walk down the aisle.”

The past two years have been a blur, and you don’t really know how you got here. After you and Dean broke up, you weren’t looking for anyone to take his place yet. But when you saw him and another woman leaving a bar not even a month after you ended your five-year relationship, your best friend declared you needed to get back out there and get laid.

That’s when you met Matt. Sensible, quiet, safe, non-hunting Matt. He was everything Dean wasn’t, but at the time, that’s precisely what you needed. Within a year, you were living together, and three months after that, you were engaged. Next thing you know, your wedding day is here, and you’re questioning if you’ve even been present in your own life for the past two years.

It’s just the last-minute jitters you keep telling yourself, but you know deep down this isn’t what you want. You want to get married and have a family. You want a nice man who works hard and treats you right. Someone who has good values and ethics that match yours. Matt has all of those qualities, and yet something is missing.

“Smile, honey,” your mom says, and you do, completely on autopilot as you have been since Matt proposed.

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the priest says, and your heart pounds in your chest.

You don’t know what you were expecting, but when the priest’s words are met with silence, your heart sinks, and you resign yourself to your fate.

Dutifully, you repeat the vows the priest tells you to, say I do and let Matt place the ring on your finger. And smile prettily as Matt does the same, and you put a ring on his finger. You kiss your newly pronounced husband, take his arm, and walk down the aisle.

At the back of the church, in the last pew, your gaze lands on familiar green eyes, and you feel pure anger. He came… he came, and he didn’t stop the wedding. Absence didn’t make his heart grow fonder, and he still doesn’t want to marry you. He doesn’t want you.

The rage dulls quickly, and bile rises in your throat as you realise what you were waiting for before you said your vows. You were hoping and praying Dean would stop the wedding, that he’d tell you what a mistake he made and that he still loves you and wants you back.

But he didn’t. And now it’s over for good.

Somehow, you manage to pull yourself together enough to greet each guest as they leave the church. Dean politely kisses your cheek and smiles sadly as he tells you you make a beautiful bride. He congratulates Matt and tells him he’s a lucky man, and then he’s gone.

Someone ushers you both away to take the official photographs with your family and close friends, and you once again force a smile on your lips, trying to mask your broken heart.

“Hey, sweetie,” Matt kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” you lie, getting your marriage off to a good start. “I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed. I’m going to the room for a bit. Refresh my makeup and take my hair out before these hairpins give me a headache!”

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks, and you shake your head with a giggle.

“No. I’ll be fine. Besides, we can’t have the bride and the groom disappear. People will talk!”

“I guess you’re right,” Matt chuckles. “Hurry back so I don’t miss you.”

“I promise, I won’t be long,” you reassure as you kiss his cheek and sneak away to the bridal suite for some breathing space.

Walking along the hallway, you smile politely and thank the hotel’s non-wedding guests who congratulate you as you pass on the way to your room and hope the tears don’t fall yet. 

You sigh in relief as you swipe the card and open the door. Hurrying inside, you turn around to push the door closed, only for a foot to push in and stop it.

“Y/N? Can I come in and talk,” Dean says. In your shock, you let go of the door and step back, unintentionally inviting him into what you’d hoped could serve as a sanctuary for you to get your shit together.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dean.” He’s already closing the door behind him, and you know no matter what you say or do, he’s not leaving until he says what he came here to say.

“Sweetheart,” he says, and your body responds to the term of endearment with goosebumps. “Why are you crying?” he asks as he steps towards you, but you step back.

“Why are you here, Dean?” you ask, throwing your hands up in exasperated defeat.

“You invited me,” he responds, confused by your question. “And I gotta say, Y/N, I’m glad I came because you’re making a huge mistake here. You don’t love him.”

“Of course I do. I just married him, for god’s sake. He’s kind and funny, and he takes care of me. He’s a good man,” you defend.

“That doesn’t mean you should marry him, Y/N!”

“At least he wanted to marry me. You didn’t think I was good enough for that!”

“What?”

“I know you, Dean. When we were friends before we started dating, you always used to talk about settling down and getting married one day. Having a couple of kids and a dog and a white picket fence. We were together for over five years, and whenever I brought it up, you shut me down or changed the subject. You strung me along instead of telling me you didn’t love me and letting me go.”

“I didn’t mean—I did love you. I still do. I didn’t ask you to marry me because I was scared I wasn’t enough for you. I was always gone, always hunting some creature from hell, always putting you in danger. I couldn’t drag you into all that. I love you too much—”

“That’s bullshit, Dean, and you know it! Sam and Eileen got out of the life just fine. If you wanted to make it work, you’d have made it work. Fuck, I thought we were working!”

“We did work because we loved each other, but sweetheart, every time we saw each other, you knew the exact number of days or weeks it’d been since we’d last seen each other, and it killed me. Because you deserve better than that.”

“Shouldn’t I have been the one to make that decision? Been the one to tell you if I couldn’t handle the time apart or you hunting monsters every other week for months on end? No,” you hold your finger up at him. “Don’t answer that because you know what? I don’t care. It was a mistake to invite you today.”

“Then why did you?” Dean asks, and you frown, taken aback by his question.

“Because as stupid as it sounds, I thought you might still love me. That we still had a chance. That just maybe, you’d…” you sigh. The worst thing you can do right now is tell him you wanted him to stop the wedding; wanted him to be the reason you called this shit-show off.

“I do love you. I made a mistake when I let you leave me, and you’re making one right now. You don’t love him like you should. Like you loved me. And if you go through with this, you’ll regret it.”

“Did you miss the part where I said I do in church? In front of God and a whole bunch of witnesses - you included?”

“You can get it annulled. He’s not right for you, sweetheart.”

“And you are?” you scoff, exhausted with the whole situation.

“Yes!”

“You’re unbelievable, Dean! I’m married. Happily.”

“You said you know me. Well, I know you, too, Y/N. You’re not happy. I know what you look like when you’re happy and in love. And this isn’t it. You don’t love him. He loves you, sure. That’s clear from a million fucking miles away, and maybe that’s why you’re marrying him. But you don’t love him. And if you’re set on staying with him, you’re never going to have a happy ending—just remember that.”

“Then why didn’t you stop me?” you finally let it out. The thing you’d secretly been hoping and praying that he’d do.

“Because you look absolutely stunning, Y/N. You’ve always wanted to be a bride and get married, and he’s a decent, safe, and stable guy. And I can’t…” he trails off and looks away from you for the first time.

“You can’t what, Dean? Love me? Because you did. Really, really, well. Take care of me? Because you did that, too. Marry me? If being with you means I can’t be a wife, it doesn’t matter because I don’t need to be your wife to be loved and cared for by you.”

Dean’s lips find yours, and you gasp in surprise. He slides his tongue in your mouth, and you moan. You’ve missed his kiss, his taste… fuck, you’ve missed him.

“Say the word, sweetheart, and I’m gone forever, but I need you to know that I never stopped loving you, and I never will. I’ll get out of the life for good. I’ll get a house and a job, and if you want me, want us… we’ll leave here together right now.”

You kiss him this time, knowing it’s wrong, but it feels so right. You haven’t felt like this since before that fateful dinner where Sam and Eileen told you about their engagement.

“Dean, please,” you gasp against his lips, and he quickly pulls your dress up around your waist and slides his hand into your wet panties. 

Dean groans as your slick coats his fingers, and without warning, he pushes two fingers inside you and curls them while thumbing your clit. It’s been so long since you’ve felt pleasure like this, and you quickly fall apart on his fingers.

“Good girl. You must’ve needed that, sweetheart. Even our first time together, you didn’t come that fast,” Dean growls in your ear, and you shiver at his warm breath brushing against your neck and hair. “Mattie boy’s not much in the bedroom, huh?”

The mention of your husband’s name should snap you back to reality, but it only does the opposite, and you drop to your knees and undo his belt. You moan when you uncover his hard, leaking cock and wrap your lips around it.

“Fuck, baby girl, I forgot how good that mouth is,” Dean growls, sliding his hands into your hair and pulling on it. “So pretty with my cock in your mouth, sweetheart.”

He still knows what to say to get you going, and his words make you moan around his cock, smirking when it makes him push in further. “Fuck, Y/N, need your pussy, sweetheart.” He pulls himself from you and helps you stand.

Dean pushes you onto the bed and reaches under the skirt of your dress to pull off your panties. Once he’s thrown them across the room, he grabs your ankles and pulls you towards the end of the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist.

You grab the skirt and pull it over your waist, giving him a good view of your dripping pussy. 

“Fuck, so perfect, baby girl,” Dean rasps, teasing you by sliding his stiff cock between your soaking folds, coating himself in your slick.

“Dean, please!” you beg, wanting him to stop teasing you.

“You need something, sweetheart?” he smirks, pushing the tip of his cock into you and pulling out again to tap it against your clit.

“I need your cock inside me, Dean. Please!” you beg.

“Alright, baby girl. You ready for me?” he asks, his gaze trained on yours. The second you nod, he pushes in and stretches you perfectly, ripping a low moan from your throat.

“Fuck!” you gasp, your walls fluttering wildly to comfortably accept him.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” His concern for you is sweet, making you smile and reach your hand out to grasp one of his.

“Yeah. Forgot how big you are,” you grin, and Dean smirks at your response as he pulls out and pushes back in, a moan now ripping from his throat.

“It shouldn’t be this hot to fuck you in a wedding dress, especially when I’m not the groom,” he growls as he sets a slow and hard pace, slamming into you as hard as he can and pulling out agonisingly slowly.

“Dean!” you whimper, and Dean presses your thighs further into the mattress. You push up, resting on your elbows and watch him pound into you with abandon, moaning as he pushes in and out of your core.

“Fuck, sweetheart, not gonna last. Your pussy feels too fucking good,” Dean growls, his hips speeding up, his eyes fixed - like yours - on him disappearing and reappearing from inside you.

His fingers tease your clit, making you fall over the edge in the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in years. It’s no exaggeration - the last time you felt like this was by Dean’s hands before you broke up.

He slams into you one last time, pushing against your cervix and stills. With a roar, he empties himself inside you, and the feeling is euphoric, sending you into a smaller climax that makes him hiss as your walls squeeze his sensitive cock.

Once he’s caught his breath, Dean pulls himself from your core, and you wince at the loss. You feel his come pour out and watch as he looks down at your abused hole and smirks at the mess he’s left there.

“Y/N?” you hear from the door, and both of your heads snap towards the unexpected voice.

“Matt!” you gasp. “Look, I can explain.” It’s the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and it’s a lie because how the hell do you even start trying to explain this?

“Don’t,” Matt scoffs. “We haven’t even been married for two hours. You’re still in your wedding dress!” 

“I know. I didn’t intend for this to happen, but Dean—”

“Dean?” Matt asks in disbelief. “The Dean that broke your heart? That Dean?”

You gulp and glance at the man in question before looking back at your husband and nodding.

“Why is he even here, Y/N?”

“I invited him,” you mumble weakly.

“You…? Invited… why?” Matt is fuming, and you can feel the rage coming off him in waves, and honestly, you don’t blame him for a second.

“I wanted… no, needed to see him one last time—” Matt’s scoffs cuts you off.

“We’ll, you’ve certainly seen him, haven’t you? And for god’s sake, cover yourself up! I don’t need to be reminded that my wife was unfaithful on our wedding day!”

You quickly pull your skirt down to cover yourself, and the shame you feel is overwhelming.

“Do you still love him?” Matt asks, his tone softening. You gaze towards Dean, wanting to get a read on what he’s feeling. “Don’t look at him; look at me.” You take a deep breath and look at your husband. “Do you still love him?”

“Yes. I never stopped,” you say, telling Matt the truth. After all, he deserves that. 

Matt nods sadly, accepting what you’re telling him. “Did you ever love me?” he asks, and your heart breaks to know what you say next will hurt him.

“Yes. I do love you, Matt. I’m just not in love with you. I’m sorry.” Tears slip from your eyes, but you quickly wipe them away.

“That’s what I’ve always been afraid of,” Matt says, a soft smile on his face. “I suppose I should be glad it happened now and not years from now when we’ve made each other miserable. I’ll get annulment papers drawn up. Let you know when they’re ready to be signed.”

Frowning, you glance at Dean, who looks just as confused by the turn of events as you are. Looking back at Matt, you see that despite the tears in his eyes, he’s still smiling softly at you.

“Y/N, when you told me about Dean, I knew you’d never love me the same way. I just hoped I’d be enough to make you happy. But I see now it was naive of me to think I could do that.”

“Matt, I—”

“Take care of her, Dean,” Matt says as he turns and leaves the room, leaving you and Dean dazed and stunned.

“Well, that went surprisingly well,” Dean announces. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, unable to think straight with your wedding ring weighing heavy on your finger and Dean’s seed still dripping down your thighs.

“You wanna get out of here?” Dean asks, crouching before you and placing his hands on your cheeks. “Go out to the cabin and try to figure this out?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you smile when Dean presses his lips to your forehead.

“Alright, let me grab your things, and we’ll get you out of here.”

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#j3bingo #18+ #tw: cheating #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester

[fanfictionalraven]

Dream Warriors Chapter 2

Title: Dream Warriors Chapter 2

Summary: Dean suggests a possible explanation for the reader’s dream. The couple and Sam head out on a potential case.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, other original characters

Word Count: 3,992

Warnings: Angst, mentions of a miscarriage, canon typical gore

Author’s Note: If miscarriages are triggering, I would proceed with caution.

Read Chapter 1 here.

“So, let me get this straight,” Dean starts, pouring a cup of coffee. He’d just gotten you calmed down enough to move to the kitchen of the bunker. While you’d filled him in on the dream you’d had, he fixed a pot of coffee. He brings two mugs over, setting one in front of you, before sitting across from you at the table. “No monsters. Our families were alive. You were married to some douche of a professor. Had a baby girl with said douche. We were just friends. And you’d just found out that your husband was cheating on you?” You nod before taking a long drink from the mug. Setting it back down, you sigh.

“It felt so real though. And I believed this, my life, was a dream,” you tell him, staring at the mug in your hands. Dean reaches over, his hands wrapping around your own. You’re fighting not to lose control as the memories of the dream rush back to you. “My family was alive, Dean. I – I got to hug them again. And – and my brother was married and they had a son.” Dean squeezes your hands as the tears overwhelm you again. “And Ella…”

“The baby,” he says softly. You nod, another sob escaping you.

“She was so beautiful, Dean. So beautiful and perfect,” you cry. He gets up from his chair and makes his way around the table quickly, pulling you into his arms as you break down.

“Of course she was,” he whispers, kissing your hair. You continue to cry into his shoulder for a few minutes before finally calming down a little. You look up at him, a few tears still falling. He smiles softly as he wipes at your cheeks gently.

“She called you Bean. And she had your eyes,” you tell him. He raises an eyebrow at you and you shake your head. “Well, not your eyes. They couldn’t have been. They were green like yours though.” He nods then runs his fingers into your hair.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say we know what caused this,” he says. You look at him, curiously. “You know what today is, right?” He asks. You shake your head slightly as you try to recall the date. Early May maybe. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Oh,” you breathe. Dean nods again.

“Today was your due date,” he says. The tears well up again quickly. Dean sighs and wraps his arms around you once more. He kisses your hair as he rubs your back soothingly. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” You shake your head, pulling away from him.

“Don’t. Stop,” you tell him, wiping at your eyes. He frowns as he watches you.

“Maybe – maybe you should see someone,” he says. You stare at him for a moment.

“What? Like a shrink?” You ask, disbelieving. He shrugs slightly. “And tell them what, Dean? ‘Three months ago, a demon attacked me, and I miscarried our baby. I’ve sorta had a hard time dealing with it.’ No.”

“Y/N,” Dean starts but you cut him off with a sharp look.

“No,” you repeat. He runs his hands over his face in exasperation as Sam comes into the kitchen now, his open laptop in his hands.

“Hey, guys,” he says before stopping in the door, sensing the tension in the room. “Everything okay?” He asks. You look at him and nod as Dean rises to his feet.

“What ya got, Sam?” You ask. He glances at Dean before speaking again.

“Ummm – potential vamp case about 6 hours from here,” he says. You nod and stand from your chair. Dean looks at you and frowns.

“Are you sure you’re ready to get back out there?” He asks. You look at him and roll your eyes.

“I’m fine, Dean. Ready to kill something,” you tell him, heading for the hall quickly. You hadn’t been on a hunt since you’d found out you were pregnant about 8 months ago, staying back at the bunker and doing research when the guys called. You might be a little rusty but the last thing you wanted to do was sit around the bunker and think about that dream.

You knew Dean was right. Your subconscious had created an alternate reality as a way to escape the inevitable pain of today. You and Dean shouldn’t be at the bunker right now. You were supposed to be in the hospital, giving birth to a beautiful baby girl. One who, you were certain, would have looked just like little Ella from your dream. The two of you had been nervous, of course, about bringing a baby into this life but Dean was determined you could make it work. And you had for a while.

You had gone out for a simple grocery run to the local market. The bunker was running dangerously low on the necessary essentials; coffee, pie, pickles. Broad daylight in a crowded parking lot, a man sunk a knife into your pregnant belly. His eyes flashed black as they met yours before he ran away, other shoppers rushing to your aid. An ambulance was called and you were taken to the hospital but it had been too late…

“Y/N,” Dean’s voice cuts through the memories. You blink back tears as you look over at him. He sighs and makes his way across the room to where you’re standing. Shaking your head quickly, you walk over to the closet, avoiding him.

“Which suit do you want to take? The black one or the blue one?” You ask, flipping between the two. His hands come to rest on your shoulders and you immediately tense up.

“You don’t have to go,” he says. You swallow thickly and nod, turning to face him now.

“I need to go, Dean. I can’t stay here by myself. Not today,” you tell him, your eyes landing on the door to the room across the hall. He follows your gaze and frowns before nodding.

“Okay. But – will you at least stay in the room? You haven’t been out in a while and I – I can’t risk losing you too,” he says, his voice quiet. His pleading eyes meet yours and you nod your head once in response. He lets out a breath before stepping away from you. “The blue one’s fine.”

Five and a half hours later, Dean pulls the Impala into the parking lot of a motel. It was a typical stay for the three of you; not too shabby but definitely not five stars either. Sam climbs out of the backseat to go into the office. He leans down to your open window and looks in at the two of you.

“Two rooms?” He asks. You hold back a frown as you look at your hands in your lap.

“Just the one,” Dean tells him. The younger brother glances between the two of you before rising to his full height and making his way to the office door.

Before the accident, you and Dean always had your own room. It wasn’t long after the two of you had gotten together that Sam made the suggestion. You and Dean were very much in love and expressed that love regularly (and loudly according to Sam). It was really no surprise when you’d ended up pregnant. But ever since you’d lost the baby, Dean had barely touched you. Kisses were few and far between. You fell asleep facing opposite walls. He didn’t even look at you the same anymore. And you couldn’t blame him.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice breaks through your thoughts. His hand reaches across the front seat of the car and clasps one of yours. You pull it away almost immediately.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, reflexively.

“You’re crying,” he says, his voice concerned. You shake your head and wipe at the stray tear quickly.

“I’m fine, Dean. Sam’s done,” you say, pointing to the other Winchester as he starts back to the car. You slip out before Dean can say anything else and Sam tosses the room key to you.

“Fifteen,” he says. The two brothers get the bags from the trunk of the car as you unlock the door to the room. You step inside and take a quick inventory. It was nearly identical to the hundreds you’d stayed in before. Nothing remarkable. Sam and Dean come in behind you and Dean deposits both of your bags onto the far bed.

“Hit the morgue first,” Dean says, mostly to himself, as he pulls his fed suit from his bag. You glance at Sam as he does the same before making your way across the room to your own bag. You quickly pull out the black pencil skirt and white button-up shirt you always took on hunts and turn for the bathroom. “What do you think you’re doing?” Dean asks, not looking up from his bag.

“I’m getting ready to go to the morgue,” you tell him casually. He sighs and you watch his hands clench into fists.

“We agreed you’d stay in the room, remember?” He asks. You glance at Sam before taking a step towards Dean.

“It’s just the coroner’s office,” you tell him, your voice soft and almost pleading. He looks up and you can see that he’s torn. Sam clears his throat from the other side of the room.

“You two go. I’ll see what I can dig up on the town,” he suggests. Dean shakes his head slightly and Sam laughs. “You know you can’t stop her.” You watch as something crosses Dean’s face briefly and for a moment you think he might lock you in the bathroom.

“99% of the time, nothing ever even happens at the coroner’s office, Dean,” you say. He lets out a small, sarcastic laugh and nods.

“It’s that 1% I’m worried about,” he says before sighing. He reaches into his bag and pulls a familiar fold of leather before tossing it to you. You catch it and raise an eyebrow at him. Unfolding the leather, you find the fake FBI badge of your favorite alias. “I know you better than you think I do,” Dean says, still riffling through his bag. A wide smile spreads across your face before you take the few steps towards Dean. You place a hesitant kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” you tell him. His eyes meet yours and he smiles a small smile. Not long ago, you both would have taken the opportunity to steal a kiss, a quick nonverbal reminder of your love. Instead, you turn quickly, moving into the bathroom to get ready.

Within an hour, you and Dean are pulling up in front of the small police station. He parks the car outside and the two of you make your way to the door. You’re met by the stereotypical small-town sheriff, a rather large man, close to his retirement for sure. He looks the two of you over briefly.

“Feds?” He asks, crossing his arms. Simultaneously, you and Dean pull your badges from your pockets and flash them.

“I’m Agent Wayne. This is my partner, Agent Prince,” Dean introduces, gesturing towards you. The sheriff nods his head once in acknowledgment.

“Sheriff Donald Anderson. You lost?” He asks. Dean lets out a laugh and runs a hand over his jaw. You glance at him before smiling at Sheriff Anderson.

“We heard you had a few strange cases pop-up. Just wanted to see if we could help out any,” you interject, your voice sweet. Dean tenses up next to you, but you ignore him, continuing to smile at the sheriff as his eyes roam over you once more.

“Well…” He pauses, considering. “A few fresh eyes probably wouldn’t hurt.”

“Could we see the bodies?” You ask. He nods and offers to show you the way. Dean rolls his eyes once the old man turns his back and looks down at you. You smirk at him as you take a step to follow Anderson. “I don’t wear this skirt cause it’s comfortable, ya know,” you tell him in a hushed tone. His eyes run down your exposed legs and he smiles before following you.

Sheriff Anderson leads the two of you down to the basement while filling you in on the details of the case, most of which you already knew from reading the reports. Three dead Jane Doe’s all killed in the same fashion, throats slit and blood drained.

Stepping into the cooler room, you immediately notice a covered female body lying on the table. A young woman, petite and blond with striking green and blue streaks in her hair, is sitting at the desk in the corner.

“Kaylee, this is Agent Prince, and ugh…Agent…” Anderson trails off, looking at Dean.

“Wayne,” Dean tells him, forcing a smile. The sheriff nods and looks back over at the medical examiner.

“Right, right. Wayne. FBI. They’re here to look into the Jane Doe cases,” he tells her. The woman nods and begins to shuffle through some papers on her desk. Sheriff Anderson excuses himself as you and Dean make your way towards the table. Kaylee rises from her desk and comes over, three files in her hands. She hands them over to you and you set two aside, opening the first. Dean looks at Kaylee, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“No I.D.’s yet?” He asks. She shakes her head, pushing her hair back from her face.

“The investigators are looking into missing persons in the local towns but nothing’s turned up,” she tells him. You read over the description of wounds. No defensive marks. Single slice to the throat. Circular incision (?) in the abdomen.

“What’s this?” You ask, pointing the incision comment out to her. She nods and reaches for the sheet, pulling it back. You frown as you take in the poor women’s neck before looking at her stomach. Just above her navel is a perfectly circular hole.

“All three have them,” she tells you both. You look at Dean and he merely shrugs, pulling his phone out to send a picture to Sam. You turn your attention back to the file and skim the rest of it quickly. Three words catch your attention. Fetus heart missing. The file nearly slips from your hand. Dean looks over at your sharp intake of breath.

“What?” He asks. You set the file down with the other three slowly, your hands trembling.

“She was pregnant?” You ask Kaylee. The coroner nods, a sad look in her eyes.

“They all were. And all three of the fetus’ hearts were missing. The police kept that from the newspaper. Thought it was a little too gruesome,” she explains. Dean holds an arm out, reaching to steady you as you take a step backwards.

“I – I’m gonna go call Sam,” you tell Dean, turning for the door quickly. “Get whatever else we need.” You push your way through the door and start up the stairs to the main floor of the building. Stopping about halfway up, you sit down. You squeeze your eyes closed and take a few deep breaths, trying to keep the walls from closing in on you. Your ears start to ring and it isn’t long before you’re sobbing for the second time that day.

A moment later, the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs draws your attention. Through teary eyes, you can just make out Dean’s form as he takes a seat on the stairs next to you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side. Your head comes to rest on his shoulder and he presses a kiss to your hair.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. If I had known, I wouldn’t have let you come,” he says, his voice soft and comforting. You shake your head slightly, unable to form any coherent words at the moment. “You wanna go back home?” Sitting up quickly to look at him, you shake your head again. He smiles gently and reaches up, wiping at your cheeks. “I can take you home then come back and help Sam finish the case up.” You swallow thickly and take a shaky breath.

“No. I – I want to stay and – and help,” you tell him. He nods and leans in, brushing his lips against your forehead gently.

“Then let’s get back to the room and see what Sam’s got,” he says. You nod and wipe the remnants of the tears from your cheek.

“Do I look like I’ve been crying?” You ask. He smiles and shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says. You let out laugh as you rise to your feet.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you tell him. He stands as well and takes your hand firmly in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m a professional liar. I’ve just never been able to lie to you,” he says. You manage another short laugh and look down at your hands as he pulls you the rest of the way up the stairs. Biting your lip, you carefully pull your hand out of his. He looks at you as you reach the door.

“Probably lose my pull with the sheriff if he sees us together,” you explain before slipping through the door. Dean sighs and shakes his head as he follows.

The two of you quickly get copies of the police reports before heading back to the motel, stopping at a diner to pick up some dinner. You unlock the door and push it open for Dean to go inside.

“Hey,” Sam says, glancing up at the two of you as walk in together. He’s sat at the table in the corner with his laptop and John’s journal open in front of him. Dean sets the bags on the table.

“Got anything?” Dean asks, pulling out two burgers. You take one of them before reaching into the other bag and getting Sam’s salad out. He smiles at you as he takes it and nods, switching screens on his laptop. He turns it around towards the two of you to reveal an ancient painting depicting a creature of some sort that was seemingly split in half.

“I think it might be a Manananggal,” he says. You and Dean both look at him, raising an eyebrow. “It’s kind of like a vampire from the Philippines.”

“Seriously?” Dean asks, pulling his suit coat off and tossing it onto a chair. Sam nods, spinning his laptop back around.

“Yea. Lore says that they look human but split in half. Their upper torso then flies with bat-like wings during the night to prey on victims. And they’re meal of choice?” Sam trails off, leaning back in his chair. Dean frowns.

“Let me guess…fetal hearts?” He asks. You sigh and sit in the chair across from him, kicking your heels off. Sam nods opening the lid on his salad.

“They apparently have these long, tube-like tongues that can suck them out,” he says. You frown and set your burger down on the table.

“There went my appetite,” you say. Dean smiles a little and pats your shoulder before leaning back against the window sill.

“What else?” He asks his brother. Sam shrugs slightly.

“Ugh, they typically prey on sleeping victims, which would explain the lack of defensive wounds. They do feed on blood as well,” he tells you both. You run your hands over your face.

“Does it say how we can kill it?” You ask. The younger Winchester nods, switching tabs on his laptop.

“It does, actually. Ummmm – the lower half is the more vulnerable one. It says sprinkling salt, garlic, or ash on the lower half can keep the upper half from reattaching and it would die in the sunlight,” he reads. Dean nods, taking a big bite of his burger.

“Sounds easy enough,” he says, his mouth full. You pick at the bun of your own burger, still looking at Sam.

“Now how do we find out who it is?” You ask. Sam’s face falls slightly.

“That’s where I’m stumped. It just says that they’re usually, and I quote, ‘scary, hideous, females’,” he says. You sigh and shake your head, picking up the file with the police reports in it.

“Well we have to find it. And figure out where it’s taking these women from. Three pregnant women up and disappear? Someone has to be looking for them,” you say, opening the file. Dean reaches over and takes the file from you.

“It’s late. You should eat and try to get some sleep,” he tells you. You frown at him. “Y/N, please.”

“I’m not hungry, Dean,” you assure him, reaching for the file again. He pulls it away quickly. “Dean.”

“This will still be here in the morning. We aren’t going to make any major breakthroughs tonight. It’s been a long day. It was a long car ride and then earlier at the coroner’s office. Plus, that dream you had,” he says. You shake your head again, rising to your feet quickly. “Where are you going?” He asks.

“To bed apparently,” you snap at him as you make your way across the room. Grabbing a pair of shorts and one of Dean’s old shirts from your bag, you turn and go into the bathroom. You look at your reflection in the mirror and sigh. You’d already cried off most of your makeup so you wash your face quickly with some warm water.

You begin to undress slowly, taking your time. You run a hand down your abdomen and over the scar across your stomach. The nurses had told you what products to apply to it to help it heal but you’d never used any of them. A part of you didn’t want it to heal, afraid you might forget if it did. You take a deep breath, determined not to cry again and slip into the clothes you’d brought in with you.

As you’re standing over the sink, putting some toothpaste onto your toothbrush, a wave of exhaustion rushes over you. The toothbrush falls from your hand as you brace yourself against the sink to keep from falling over. Your mind begins to fog over and you swear you can hear a baby crying. Shaking your head, you reach over and pull the bathroom door open before stepping back into the room. Dean looks over and rises to his feet before starting across the room towards you.

“Y/N,” he starts but you hold up a shaky hand, cutting him off.

“Did either of you hear a baby crying?” You ask, causing Dean to stop dead in his tracks. The two brothers exchange brief looks before Dean closes the distance between the two of you, taking your arms into his hands gently.

“You okay?” He asks. You look at him as the exhaustion slips up on you again and frown, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“I – I think you were right. I – I must just be – be tired,” you tell him. He nods and slips an arm around your waist, carefully leading you to the bed. He helps you under the blanket as your eyelids quickly become too heavy to keep open any longer. The last thing you feel are his lips against your forehead as the baby’s cries begin to get louder and louder…

“Y/N, Ella’s awake,” you hear a man calling out to you. Ella’s awake. She’s crying. You rub at your eyes as you slowly sit up in the bed before looking at the baby monitor on the bedside table. The door to the master bathroom opens and Jackson steps out.

“It’s about time you woke up. She’s been crying for five minutes,” he says. You stare at him for a moment, trying to process everything. You were back in your bed. Your bed in your house. Not at the bunker. There is no bunker. There are no monsters. There’s just a beautiful house. A beautiful daughter. And a cheating husband.

Read Chapter 3 here.

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

Dream Warriors: @aylacavebear @winharry @djs8891 @suckitands33 @rickgrimeswifeu @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @foxyjwls007 @alisyacsa @cutiesarah @urinternetmom @justrealizedimmascifygurl l @kr804573

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #reader insert #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dream warriors

[paleprincessturtle]

hi would love to see a harvey specter fanfic that had some angst but ends in a nice fluffy moment!

Hi! Thank you so much for the request. Hope you enjoy this one!

Cakes and Flowers

You always knew that Harvey had zero to no patience. So when he abruptly asked you to marry him in the middle of the week—Tuesday night, to be exact—as much as it was such a surprise, you always knew Harvey couldn't wait that long to live up to all the romantic things he planned on how to propose to you. So there it was: Wednesday morning, you suddenly became a lefty. Everyone was thrilled, to say the least, and more puzzled as to why you left work on Tuesday evening not engaged and came back the next morning totally glowing from being someone's fiancée.

It was only the third day of you being engaged. You were cooking dinner while Harvey sat by the island, and some documents spread in front of him. "Is that the Winchester case?" you asked as you chopped up some carrots. "Yes," Harvey answered as he nodded. "Need help?" you asked as you rounded the island to stand beside Harvey. You wiped your hands on your apron and leaned down to get a better look at what Harvey was reading. As you read what was on the documents, you felt Harvey's eyes on you. Watching you intently with a mere distance between the two of you. "Let's elope in Vegas; we'll go first thing in the morning tomorrow," Harvey said as you turned your head slowly to face him. You looked deeply into his captivating brown eyes, searching for any glimpses of jokes. No. You know him too well; he was being serious. "Harvey?" you chuckled in disbelief at what he just proposed the two of you should do over the weekend. Harvey took your hand as he stared at you, eyes full of love, full of passion. "I don't want to wait any longer; marry me tomorrow; be my wife." Harvey took your hand and gave it a chaste kiss. You smiled down at him, he waited for your answer.

No, you didn't cave into the puppy's eyes that Harvey pulled the whole night AND the whole weekend. You finally convinced Harvey that on their wedding day, you and Harvey must've wanted your closest friends and family to be there. You convinced Harvey that he was making a rash decision that he would regret later. Despite all the convincing you successfully did, Harvey only gave you 3 months to prepare for the wedding. It wasn't like you wanted a big wedding anyway. But a wedding is a wedding, and you wanted it to be as perfect as it could get. Upon this request, you also successfully made Harvey promise to help you with the wedding preparation. Harvey couldn't care less about the venue, cakes, or dress you wear. You could wear a burlap sack, and Harvey would be as happy as a kid on Christmas morning. But you still wanted to involve Harvey in this; it was his wedding day too.

That day, Harvey had to pick you up from a client's office since you had to be there at their board meeting. It was already pouring even before Harvey arrived. You sighed as you saw how bad the rain was, and there you saw Harvey's car. You could just call Harvey to tell Ray to go get you an umbrella. To think again, you were sure that Harvey would fetch you himself. You stayed there for a full minute, contemplating the distance from the entrance door to Harvey's car. You could use your bag. You glanced down at your bag. Oh, the pretty leather. But you decided not to bother Ray or Harvey. So there you were, in your pencil skirt and high heels. Ready to run. Just as you stepped into the rain, you felt your phone buzz. It must be Harvey, you thought. But there was no way in hell you would stop to pick up whoever was calling you. As you opened the door, Harvey was ready to scold you. You could see it in his face. You were drenched. It was far, but it was raining cats and dogs. Harvey was about to open his mouth, but you raised your hand at him as you tried to fish out your phone. The buzzing was persistent. "Hi Evelyn," you answered, phone between your shoulder and ear. "What? No, I already told you I wanted my bouquet to look neat while giving wildflowers. What? No, no, no. I told you, white and soft pink. No, not peach. Have you ordered it?" You listened with the little to no patience left in you. Thank God she hadn't ordered anything. "Haven't I told you to run this by my fiancé? I was in a meeting the whole afternoon." Again, you listened to your wedding planner. You turned to look at Harvey and the information Evelyn gave you. "Okay, Evelyn. You got everything covered?" You exchanged goodbyes after Evelyn told you she had everything under control. You just stared at Harvey as he raised his eyebrows at you. "What is it?" Harvey asked; he seemed oblivious. "You told Evelyn the roses at our wedding would be peach and white?" you asked in disbelief, especially after you briefed him on what to say when Evelyn called to make sure about the flower arrangements since you wouldn't be able to pick up her call. "I said soft pink, she asked peach, and I said yes. I thought she knew colors better than me, so I just said yes." Harvey answered nonchalantly. You sighed as the growing pain in your temple throbbed. "You didn't even try, Harvey!" You raised your voice at him. Harvey watched you as you rubbed your eyes. "Hey, I'm sorry. Okay? I thought it was the same color, and it was my fault that I didn't check on it. I'm sorry, okay?" Harvey took both your hands as he kissed them. You looked at Harvey with teary eyes. You never wanted a big wedding, but you wanted this to be perfect. Couldn't Harvey just understand that? "Oh, my sweet sunshine, don't cry. Please, I'm sorry." You felt the tears were impossible to hold as you started sobbing. Harvey took you in his arms and got his clothes wet in the process. "It won't happen again. It must be tiring to prepare for this wedding in such a short time. I'll be there for you, okay? I won't happen again."

But, of course, it happened again. Harvey Specter would do whatever Harvey Specter wanted.

You were at the venue, waiting for Harvey. You two were supposed to do cake tasting today. Along with the food selection and the floor plan, basically everything. It was just three weeks before the wedding, and you felt like everything wasn't going as planned. You felt like there were still a million things to do. It was your third glass of champagne. You saw Evelyn grow restless as she made sure of the floor plan. You checked your watch again. He was supposed to be here at 6. It was 8. You felt like you were about to cry. This seemed like your wedding, not your and Harvey's wedding. You walked over to Evelyn and apologetically asked for a reschedule. Evelyn, who probably saw the unshed tears of frustration in your eyes, kindly agreed.

It felt odd walking through the hallway, not in your working attire. It was always dresses, blouses, shirts, skirts, pants, and high heels. Today you were just dressed in a knit sweater, jeans, and loafers. It was a little over 9 pm when you reached Harvey's office. Harvey didn't even acknowledge your existence until you walked inside and sat on the sofa. "Sunny? Hey, I thought you were at home. Is everything okay? I'm a little busy here." Harvey then stood and walked over to you. You stood up abruptly before he even reached you. Harvey stopped, and just then he saw that you'd been crying. "What's wrong?" Again, Harvey tried to step closer to you, but you took a step back. "Cakes, floor plan. Ring a bell?" You could hear Harvey curse under his breath. "I swear to you, I forgot." Harvey was about to reach for you, but you raised your hand. "Like you forgot everything else regarding our wedding! Every fucking thing!" you shouted at him, but your voice came out hoarse. "I wanted this to be perfect, Harvey. For you, for me," a sob escaped as you messily tried to wipe the tears with the sleeve of your sweater. "You were adamant about proposing, about getting married; now that we are about to get married, you suddenly acted like none of this matters!" Harvey stood still as his heart broke, seeing you in tears. "You know what?" You took the heavy ring from your ring finger and put it loudly on the coffee table. Harvey watched you in horror. "If you aren't even ready for wedding preparations, forget ever being married. Being married will take more than flowers and cakes." With that, you left. Not turning back even when you heard Harvey calling out your name.

You quickly went to Harvey's apartment to take your apartment's keys. You couldn't remember the last time you stayed at your place. After moving in with Harvey, your apartment seemed to cease to exist.

But the thought of being alone in your apartment seemed depressing. So you walked around Central Park. You developed the habit of twirling your engagement ring when you were thinking. As you walked around, you were unconsciously about to twirl the ring, but it wasn't there. For a second, your heart stopped beating. Then you remember taking it off. You found a nearby bench and just sat there for, God knows, how long.

You finally decided to go to your apartment. It felt odd not to go to Harvey's. It was just a little over 11 when you opened the door.

"Harvey?"

You said in disbelief as you saw Harvey, still in his suit, standing over your dining table. His back was facing you; he seemed to be arranging something. Upon hearing your voice, Harvey jumped a bit. "I didn't hear you coming." Harvey smiled as he saw you. But his heart clenched when he saw your face all blotchy from crying. "What are you doing here? How did you know?" you questioned him as you walked further inside. You saw some plates; dome-shaped lids covered those plates. "When I got back, you weren't there. When I checked, your apartment's keys weren't there. So I figured you'd be here." You nodded at his explanation. "What are those?" You pointed to the dining table. "Come, sit with me," Harvey said. He offered you his hand while he waited for you to take it. But you walked past it as Harvey sighed. The two of you sat side by side. "I knew I missed the cake tasting. So I called Evelyn, and she helped me arrange our own cake tasting." Harvey said as he opened the lids one by one. You saw the familiar cakes you saw earlier. But you could see that these were fresh slices. "I messed up, again," Harvey turned to you as he took your hands. The warmth of his hand, the sincere look on his face. You cried again. "I'm sorry, I really am. There are no justifications for what I did. I will say nothing, but I'm sorry. I regret everything I did. God, when I saw you take off the ring, I thought I was about to drop dead." Harvey cleared his throat as his voice wavered. He then chuckled dryly before continuing, "I thought I lost you forever. How am I going to live without the only source of sunshine in my life?" His thumb caressed your tear-stained cheek. "I'm sorry too; I wasn't supposed to be so childish, leaving just like that," you whispered as you leaned into his touch. "No, it was never your fault. You are tired, and I didn't even try to help you." Harvey gave you a small smile, and you smiled back at him.

"I don't know," Harvey started, his mouth still filled with cake. "This one and this one," Harvey pointed at the black forest and chocolate truffle. You were too full of cakes to think about which one was which. Instead of taking bites, you and Harvey ended up finishing like 2 slices of each cake. "But you know what?" Harvey pointed a fork at you, and you just raised an eyebrow at him, too full to say anything. "I like the vanilla with fruit ones." You nodded. "Yeah, I like that too. So, is that the one we're choosing?" Harvey looked deep in thought. "If you like it, then yes." After Harvey heard you mumble a yes, he made a note on his phone. "What's that for?" you asked. "I gotta call Evelyn tomorrow to tell her that we've decided on the cake." He looked up from his phone, and you smiled at him. He smiled back at you and gave you a peck. "And I've rescheduled the food tasting, and we can also see the floor plan and everything tomorrow at 6. Does that work for you?" You smiled widely at him as you nodded. "Okay, awesome." He typed some more on his phone before he finally looked back at you. "We need to do one more thing." Harvey chuckled as you groaned. "Don't fret," Harvey said as he smeared icing on your lips. "I need to eat the rest of the cakes off of you."

MASTERLIST

#harvey specter #harvey specter fanfic #harvey specter imagines #harvey specter fan fiction #harvey specter x reader #suits harvey specter #suits tv #harvey specter imagine

[hawkeyetrained]

Step Away From Him, Now

Dean Winchester x Fem!reader established relationship (nothing too detailed)

Other Characters: Sam Winchester (barely there), John Winchester

Warnings: canon violence (kinda?), language, mention of wounds, blood, wendigo mention, arguing, that’s it I think?

Summary: She's finally had enough of John treating Dean so horribly

A/N: This is kinda my take on how Dean used to talk about his dad. Probably made John out to be a little worse than he really was, but I always saw him as someone who pushed Dean to his limits when they hunted together

Word Count: 2712

John Winchester. Everyone in the hunting world knew that name. Winchester. Now, his sons Sam and Dean held the legendary last name in all the stories that were passed around.

John had been married to Mary, an amazing woman with hunter parents, who had wanted nothing more than to get out of the life she knew. She wanted to run as far as she could from the world of monsters and have a normal life with a husband who loved her and maybe a few little babies along the way. She did eventually make her way out of the hunting world and build the life she wanted. John loved her so much, and she did end up having two little baby boys after a few years, but the world of monsters didn’t leave her alone for long. She had gotten up one night to check on her youngest baby, little Sam Winchester, only for her world to come crashing down.

The story was well known now amongst hunters across the country. Sam and Dean were then raised in the world of monsters by their father who wanted nothing but revenge against the thing that killed his wife and mother of his boys. Now, that doesn’t mean John was winning ‘Father of the Year’ awards, his boys learned the hard way how to survive in the world filled with evil. Dean was practically forced to become his fathers little soldier, always taking orders, and doing as he was told in order to protect his younger brother.

My own mother had been friends with Mary before she left hunting to build her family, so when John and his boys turned up on our doorstep years after she died, my family didn’t hesitate to bring them in.

Over the years the Winchester boys and I grew up to be incredibly close. We learned to rely on each other during hunts, and once Sam had taken off for college, Dean and I became an unstoppable duo on hunts John sent us out on. We worked seamlessly together, always covering the others back and making sure everything was handled before the local law enforcement could catch up to us.

That doesn’t mean I always followed John’s orders. Dean took orders without hesitation while I stopped to question John when I knew a plan wouldn’t work or seemed a little too good to be true. Dean and I had been placed in the field as bait far too many times for me to blindly allow John Winchester to order me around anymore. My mother taught me well while I was growing up. She told me to always double check things before committing, make sure me and my partner were safe, and always watch my back.

Sam coming back to help Dean and I track John down made hunting even easier. A third set of eyes and a fresh take on the cases helped in ways Sam couldn’t even understand. Once we found John and managed to work a few cases as a group of four, I started picking up on things I hadn’t noticed when Sam wasn’t with us.

John was now always double-checking leads, making sure Sam was sent with plenty of weaponry and back up, while Dean and I were nearly forced to figure out our half the plan on our own without the promise of proper gear or even the availability to call for backup if something were to happen.

I had finally had enough when we were sent on a wendigo case John deemed “simple enough for the two of us to handle” and ended up with Dean and I nearly killed.

“I can’t take this anymore.” I half growled as we pulled into the motel parking lot John and Sam were staying in. “We’re gonna get killed one of these days because your father doesn’t give a shit about us.”

“Stop.” Dean parked the car. “He didn’t know there were more than one in those caves.” Again, Dean had an excuse to not blame his father.

My eyes were wide and mouth hanging open at his words. “You’re kidding, right? We didn’t do any of the research because he ‘had it covered’.” I moved my fingers with the quote John had said an hour before Dean and I left for the hunt. “He’s the one that said it was one and would be a simple case.” Dean stepped out of the car, favoring his right side from being tossed into some stone. I followed, carefully getting out of the sleek black Impala, and grabbing my bag from the back seat.

Everything in my body screamed in pain. My arms were bruised from where the creature had grabbed me, digging its nails into my skin, and bruising my once clear skin. Scrapes and deeper scratches littered my legs and arms from falling in rocks and being dragged down one of the tunnels. “Just stop.” Dean groaned, joining me on my side of the car and resting a hand on my cheek. “The important part is that we’re alive.”

His broken down and tired voice reduced my anger as I took in just how exhausted he looked. He and I had grown close over the years of hunting together, and that closeness eventually turned into love, that’s why we made such a great pair. I sighed and nodded my head, leaning in closer to his hand. “Ok, I’ll drop it for now. Just wanna grab a shower and pass out for the night.”

A soft smirk covered Dean’s face. “You and me both baby.” His arm drifted across my shoulders and pulled me into his side as we headed into the motel room to meet up with his family.

The moment the door was opened, and our bags were tossed to the floor, John was already up from the table and handing us a folder. “Got another one for you. A couple hours west of here that needs taken care of now.”

My hands clenched into fists as Dean took the folder and drifted over to the bed he and I shared to take a look. Everything in my body ached and I knew Dean was in the same boat, plus, he could do with about three days of sleep to make up for lost sleep over the last week. He was barely running on black coffee and the little food he ate between fighting monsters and catching maybe an hour or two of sleep each night. At the first sight of his eyes slipping closed as he read through the folder, my anger got the better of me.

“No.” I snapped, grabbing my bag from the floor, and moving to my side of the bed opposite Dean. “We’re not taking a hunt hours away tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?” John turned from the table.

I crossed my arms defiantly. “I said no. Can’t you hear?” Sam glanced at Dean in a way to figure out where my anger was coming from. “Dean and I haven’t had a break in weeks, John. Weeks. We need sleep, and time to heal.”

“People are dying out there. Don’t you get that?” John snapped, slapping down another few folders and a notebook.

“I do, and that sucks, but seriously? People die every day, sometimes luck runs out, and yeah, it’s really shitty to die from a monster mommy and daddy tell you isn’t real, but that’s the world we live in. If you’re so concerned about these people, then you can go deal with it.”

John looked like I had just smacked him across the face. “You need to get control over her.” His eyes had slipped over to Dean’s. “You’ve both got three hours till your asses better be on the road for Colorado.”

My mouth had dropped open in shock from John thinking Dean could or would control anything I did like that. I was prepared to give him a real piece of my mind when Dean finally spoke up. “No.” he stood from his spot on the bed and joined my side. “You know, we were nearly killed today. The freak got the drop on us with one of its buddies and dragged her down a tunnel. All because your research was wrong.” His voice was slowly growing in volume, and I was beyond thankful the motel was practically empty tonight. “You haven’t even taken a moment to ask if we’re ok. But yeah, dad, were gonna be fine.”

John launched into a rant on how Dean and I have been messing up every hunt over the last few months, coming back with more and more wounds, more complaints, and requesting more time between hunts. He threw every little thing at Dean’s face like he wasn’t already in pain from the day. I watched as Dean’s face slowly fell from the confident and angry man trying to protect me, to the look of a kicked puppy as his dad belittled him with his younger brother watching on. I could tell Sam didn’t know how to step in and stick up for Dean, so it was up to me to protect the oldest Winchester when no one else would.

“Back up.” That same angry growl from the car scratched at my words as I stepped beside John who had cornered Dean into the wall of the motel. “Step away from him, now.” My hands balled into fists, tighter and tighter with the longer John was taking to back away from his son. “I said back the hell up, now.”

His dark eyes flashed to my face as he stepped back half a foot. “The hell you say to me?”

I pushed my way between John and Dean, making sure to keep eye contact with John Winchester while I did. “You do not get to talk to him like that. Dean isn’t some little soldier toy for you to throw at the problems you think he can fix. He isn’t indestructible like you think he is. He’s human and needs a god damned break every once in a while. How can you not see that he doesn’t want to let you down but that he’s struggling to keep up with your constant demands? He does everything you ask, “keep an eye on Sammy, don’t let anything happen to Sammy”.” I started quoting him from the past few years. “You have two sons, John. Don’t you remember that? Two! Dean deserves the protection you give to Sam as well. He’s your kid too!”

Silence filled the motel room after my little outbreak, but I couldn’t tell if John was going to let it go for the night or continue to fight. “Dean’s the oldest. He knows the responsibilities that come with that.”

It felt like my skin was on fire with the anger that radiated through my body. “I need you to shut the fuck up and listen for once in your life.” Sam was silent and still as a statue on the bed, papers still scattered around him. “I don’t give a shit about if he’s the oldest or whatever is stuck in your twisted head. I understand you lost your wife, and baby Sam never got a chance to know his mother, and that’s horrible. But Dean lost his mom too. He lost her just like you and Sam did, but because he was four and not a baby, that means to you that he now deserves to be your slave for the rest of his life. It means hunting what you deem necessary and when you say so? He isn’t someone you get to command around for eternity.”

“And who the hell do you think you are, telling me what to do with my family. Last I checked, you weren’t a part of this family.” John’s anger was boiling over at this point. His face was bright red, and I swore I could see a vein in his neck pulsing. “You’re just some tag-along who thinks she can stick around with Dean long enough to be more than a piece of ass to him.”

That caused a deafening silence to flood the room that even a gunshot couldn’t overpower. “Right.” I nodded, willing the sting in my eyes to go away so John wouldn’t have more ammunition to throw at me. “Right. I’m here simply because I wanna be a late-night booty call to him…it couldn’t possibly be because someone needs to be on his side for once. Couldn’t be that he needs someone to watch his back on hunts because his father doesn’t care enough. Or it couldn’t be that I simply love him and want to be here for him, right? No, it’s absolutely because I wanna be his hook-up on the few nights where he isn’t struggling to stay awake because he has to finish some research you and Sam couldn’t do, or the other nights where he’s too busy being beaten by monsters.” I took a deep breath and stepped back an inch, barely leaving enough space between John and I before I turned towards the bed to grab my purse and gear bag. “Go to hell, John.” My shoulder slammed into his as I walked past him and out of the motel room.

I didn’t make it very far down the row of rooms before a voice could call and stop me in my tracks. “Wait a minute!” Dean’s voice echoed over the nearly vacant parking lot.

“What?” I asked as he joined my side, his green bag hanging from his hand. “Wait, I…Dean. Did he…”

“No. He didn’t throw me out.” Dean’s free hand came to rest on my shoulder. “I just ditched. I couldn’t let you leave alone after that.” Guilt tugged at my chest as I thought of Dean walking away from the only family he had left.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. It wasn’t my place and…”

He cut me off again. “No one’s ever stood up for me like that.” Dean was quiet as his eyes met mine. “I’ve never had someone in my corner against my dad before.”

“You don’t deserve the way he treats you.”

“I know. It’s always been hard to tell him when I need time off, or even just a break. He’s so driven and focused all the time on getting the thing that killed mom that I don’t think he even notices how he acts sometimes.”

I dropped my bag. “God, Dean. There you go again. You make up these excuses for the way he acts like its ok to treat you like a damn dog. I don’t care that he wants to find the thing that killed her, you and Sam want that just as badly but you two don’t go out endangering each other at every little possible chance you get. I’m sorry you guys lost her, that sucks, and I can’t imagine the pain you all felt, but he needs to understand that you can’t keep risking your life like he expects you to.”

He nodded at my words. “I know.” It was barely a whisper coming from him now. “I just don’t know how to tell him. You’ve seen it, the way he gets when he sets his mind to something.”

“I know.” It was my turn to nod. “You get it from him. You’re so focused sometimes on the hunt or helping someone that everything else kinda blurs.” I gently cradled his face in my hands. “There is one huge difference though. When your partner is hurt, or even struggling, you drop everything as fast as you can to go help them. You’re there in time to save me, every time I need you.”

“And I always will be, you know that, right?” Dean’s hands rested softly on my hips, drawing me in closer to his chest.

“I do.” I smiled up at him. “Now, what do you say to a drink at the bar down the street and a night spent in the car in the middle of nowhere?”

“I’d say that sounds like a great plan to me.” He let me grab the bag I dropped, pressed a soft kiss to the side of my head, and led me towards the infamous black Impala.

@thetallassgirl @hallecarey1

#supernatural #spn imagine #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean imagine