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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 2 months

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The Most Innocent Sinner

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: For everyone, she's the shy, pure, little Y/n. Dating Dean Winchester is like going on dates with the complete opposite of her. So it is a very nice surprise when Dean learns how kinky she actually is by finding her collection of sex toys.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Content warning: Sex toys, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk

Square filled: Dildos for @spnkinkevents / “Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home.” for @jacklesversebingo / masturbation for @anyfandomkinkbingo / “Unfortunately, I’m turned on by that.” for @anyfandomgoesbingo

A/n: Finding a title is so hard. I got stuck on this one for way too long. Big thanks to my friends that helped me!

From the outside, Y/n looked like a Saint. Cute, she wasn't very tall and almost sickly shy, and her social anxiety didn't help her case at all.

Since she didn’t have many friends, Y/n spent her time at the library surrounded by stories that made her forget how alone she felt. The characters on these yellowed sheets would never judge or criticize her, it was a comfort in which she really liked to immerse herself, especially after a hard day.

It was also where she met the Winchester brothers for the first time.

For someone like Y/n, the complete opposite of popular, invisible to people even when she was in the same room with them, the Winchesters were the pinnacle of perfection. Bodies built like gods, well-defined faces, piercing eyes, they gave off a strong and dominating aura that attracted the gaze of everyone in their path. And Y/n was no exception.

The moment the two brothers walked near her table at the library, there was no longer any need to read. Her book closed by itself in front of her, as she no longer held it open, her eyes fixedly stuck on the two men. Following their directions with her gaze, she turned her head, almost hurting her neck.

The colors around her suddenly seemed more vivid. The sounds, sweeter to the ear. She strained her ear to better listen to their conversations. And it was then that the stories she loved reading so much... Became reality.

Y/n had always had a habit of making herself fade away. Not wanting to attract attention, remaining discreet and making herself as small as possible. But the moment she saw them, it was like a light bulb went on inside her, and filled her with a life she had never really felt. And she decided to change that.

She didn’t want to hide anymore.

It was an adventure awaiting her, just like in her books. Filled with villains, monsters, but also angels, laughter, food and finally, a place where she belonged. It didn't take long for her to take part in their lives, quickly becoming a full member of their families. Although she wasn’t trained to be in the field hunting monsters, her lifelong experience of extensive reading was too vital and important to refuse her help.

Initially, Y/n was assigned to research. It was perfect for her, she could show them how efficient she was at this task so they would give her more to do eventually. Quickly, she climbed the ranks in the Winchesters' trust and became closer to them.

Everything about her personality was perfect to fit with Sam's. And yet, as the months stretched into years, she inevitably grew closer to Dean. Some will say that opposites flock together, and they are not wrong. Dean was the opposite of Y/n, stubborn, he didn't hesitate to say what was on his mind and loved seeing the adorable expression that invaded her face when he made inappropriate or worse, sexual comments. Immediately, Y/n would disappear from the room almost like magic, or she would become so embarrassed that he took pity and immediately changed the subject.

Y/n had a purity that Dean never had, and it was one of the reasons why even after all this time knowing her, he was still reluctant to let her come with them on hunts. Or even to involve her in anything that could endanger her or defile this purity. If he could keep her from losing that sparkle in her eyes, he would, no matter the cost.

After a few months of dating, Y/n finally agreed to live in the bunker with them. Dean helped her move in, putting her things in a room other than his, and although not sharing the same bed disappointed him a little, he understood why. She wasn't ready, and he insisted on her comfort. He was willing to wait for her as long as it took.

“If I had known you had that many boxes, I would have brought in extra hands,” Dean huffed, placing yet another heavy box on the ground. Straightening up, he raised his arms above his head to stretch his back.

“Sorry, all my books,” Y/n shrugged and lowered her head, embarrassed.

With a quick wave of his hand, Dean signaled that it was nothing. “It only takes a little longer but it’s no problem,” he quickly said to reassure her, so she wouldn’t feel bad about having so much stuff. After all this time knowing her, he knew how important her books were to her.

Her 500 books which weighed bricks to transport…

“I'll go get another box,” she accepted Dean's answer and as she passed him on her way out, left a quick kiss on the cheek. It was Dean's turn to react, his face quickly turning red.

“Okay, in the meantime, I'm going to start…” Glancing at the mountain of cardboard, Dean sighed again. “Cleaning a little…”

Sam wasn't there. Although he proposed his help for moving her stuff in, Dean's ego was more powerful. As a boyfriend, he had to take care of his girlfriend himself. Without help. Showing her that he was there for her, and that she would always be his priority.

Dean had been in several relationships in the past. And he loved each woman with all of his soul. But each time, his work, his family or the apocalypse had forced him to leave. It had been a very difficult task each time, but he had done it.

Just the thought of leaving Y/n had the same effect as losing a limb. It was unthinkable.

Ah shit. He was in love.

Him, in love?

It was the first time.

… Wait a minute.

He was in love with her.

This realization hit him harder than he expected. Dean took a few steps back, his head spinning quickly. He was in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Never in his entire life had he felt this kind of thing for someone, feelings so strong, so true. When they were together, he felt so good, like he had finally found the thing he was missing. The person he needed.

Dean took another step back, and inevitably, his legs encountered a box. He lost his balance and, trying not to cause a landslide, had to hold himself against the nearest thing… Another box.

This one was strangely and unfortunately lighter than the others and failed to stop him from doing damage. Luckily, Dean kept his balance and avoided the embarrassment of falling on his butt, but the box fell to the ground.

“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled as he hurried to pick it up. As he took it, he noticed that it was not closed properly. It was definitely not his plan to go through Y/n's personal belongings, but when he opened the box to close it better, he couldn't help but see what was inside.

And it wasn't his fault. The first item on top was a box that displayed the inscription of its contents, and his curiosity, well… took care of the rest.

“What the…” taking the item in question, Dean examined it. His hunter's eye detected every detail, inscriptions, the wear on the cardboard and even the place where the packaging had once been sealed before opening. The sticky paper seemed to have been removed so quickly, the color of the cardboard remained stuck on it. It was exactly as if its owner, eager to have the object, hadn’t been concerned by the breakage of its packaging.

SO. It was still possible that the contents were not what was written in black and white on the packaging. It was still a possibility. Dean understood, it was his duty to get to the bottom of it once and for all. Otherwise, the question would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Heart racing for no good reason, Dean placed his fingers where the paper was torn off and pulled the tab. Then, breathless, he opened the box and peered inside.

“Son of a bitch,” his mouth breathed along with the last of his oxygen. No... he couldn't believe it. As if he needed further proof that his eyes had already given him, Dean reached into the box and pulled out the object.

It was still in its bag, but an opening proved its frequent use. Both soft and very hard, it was of regular size and of a pretty pink shade. Dean didn't need to take it out of the bag to know that underneath was the little hole to get charged, the wire still in the box.

In his hand, Dean held the thing he never thought he would hold… Let alone find among his girlfriend's stuff. The sweet, pure, shy Y/n.

Scared that she would come back and see him like this, Dean quickly put the pink dildo vibrator back in its box. A thousand questions swirled through his mind and his heart still hadn't stopped pounding in his ribcage. In his eagerness and nervousness, Dean almost dropped the box, so he had to pull himself together to put it back exactly where he had found it.

And that was when he saw them.

There were plenty of them. A dozen even. Some had their original packaging, others had boxes without inscription. Curiosity rose in Dean who forgot the presence of his girlfriend and owner of these toys in the bunker. It was like suddenly he was alone in the world as he began to pull out everything he had in front of his eyes, his pupils dilating with each new discovery.

Small portable vibrator. One that looked like a butterfly, insertable and vibrant. A… dolphin? A flesh-colored dildo, including ball and base with suction. A magic staff. Purple, pink, black, the colors were added one after the other. And then suddenly...

Dean came across the largest box.

It was curiously and surprisingly big for what was inside. Dean couldn't help it. It was heavy, there was no doubt about the contents, but he had to see it with his eyes, hold it in his hands, and absorb reality.

It couldn't be that big... right?

And oh my god.

“Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home…”

Examining it from every angle, he still couldn't understand. The words “bad dragon” were forever imprinted in his brain along with the image of that purple and blue hued dildo. It was imposing, as tall as it was wide, and the different textures were strange but pleasant to the touch. And inevitably, his brain went in that perverse direction he imagined...

Her moans filled the room and the echo was carried throughout the whole bunker. Sounds of pleasure? No. Of frustration. She moaned as she tried as best she could to get the dildo into her entrance, which was still too tight for such a monster. But her determination only grew with her goal, and the idea alone of being able to have all those inches inside her was so exciting that she almost didn't need any lube.

“Oh fuck,” breathed through her lips as the head of the toy finally pierced the breach. Her head tilting back, she wiggled on the dildo to widen her entrance to accommodate the rest. Kneeling over the toy made it easier for her to maneuver her body and part her lips for guidance. And when finally the dildo was inside her, a long sigh of relief mixed with the pleasure of having succeeded hissed between her lips.

“I love the view…”

Dean hadn't missed a single thing. Standing in the doorway, he watched, admired, and nourished himself with the magnificent view before him. Kneeling on the bed facing him, she knew he was there. Even though her eyes were closed, she felt his presence, heard his heavy breathing. And then there was the rustling of his clothes every time he adjusted his position or reached for his swollen crotch.

It was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced. The desire was so strong it was palpable. The smell of sex filled the room. A moan passed her lips as she opened her eyes to look at him, her breath leaving her lungs, making the air almost unbreathable because it was so saturated.

"Oh. No."

The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground brought him back to consciousness. Then it took him several seconds to realize the voice that had spoken just before the impact, what it had said and who it belonged to. Turning towards the door, Dean's eyes were wide open, the green almost disappearing from his irises because his pupils were so dilated.

Her face was not in any better condition. As her eyes, wide with fear and shame, moved between what he was holding and the box behind him and finally settling on him, Dean could see the embarrassment quickly filling her being.

“What is this?”

Still shocked by his discovery and what it implied, these words were the first and only ones that had managed to escape his lips. Obviously, he knew what it was, and what it was for. However, he needed to hear it from her mouth. To confirm what his eyes had already understood.

His question only made her more uncomfortable.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she muttered under her breath, lowering her head and crossing the distance between them to grab the dildo and remove it from the hunter’s hands. All this to hide the evidence that had already been consumed, unfortunately. “Please, forget about it,” she pleaded, still refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand resting next to Dean's on the dildo, she tried to take it back, but was surprised to see that he didn't want to let it go. “Dean?”

“It’s impossible,” his voice was low, almost a breath lost in the tension of the air. “Unfortunately… I’m turned on by that. And here I thought you were all pure and shy…” Taking a pause in his words only made the state Y/n was in worse. Next to Dean, she felt his breath against her cheek, and the heat of his body. It was heavy, his chest moving in time with his harsh breathing. As if he had to do everything to hold back. “I waited for you to be ready, and I'll still wait but… Y/n…” As she still refused to raise her head and meet his gaze, Dean took his other hand, the one that wasn't holding the dildo, to gently lift Y/n’s chin. “Thinking about you touching yourself with that… oh fuck, it’s hot, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” A shy smile appeared on her lips, her eyes watering at how she was embarrassed but still... Very excited by this idea.

“Oh yeah,” Dean swallowed, his green eyes darting from Y/n's lips to her eyes, then back to her lips. Like two magnets held too far apart, but at the same time too close, it was inevitable.

Dean pressed his mouth to Y/n’s, kissing her forcefully. The dildo was quickly put aside, both needing their hands to touch the other. Dean placed his on Y/n's waist, and her around his neck. Her nails scratched the soft part of his neck, leaving red marks he would never see. It was intense, they almost devoured each other with an insatiable appetite. Opening her lips, Y/n stuck her tongue out barely, just enough to give access to Dean who was quick to push his tongue into her mouth. The kiss became languorous, messy, even, and Y/n backed into a box and almost fell. Dean broke the kiss to ask if she was okay, but she silenced him by replacing her lips on his to continue the kiss.

Their mouths didn't leave each other as clothes flew around the room, some getting stuck on boxes while others fell to the floor. Eventually, they managed to maneuver through the mountains of boxes to get to the bed. Y/n plopped down on the mattress and laughed against Dean’s mouth which only took a second to find its way back to hers. Now both were shirtless and their hands explored each other without stopping.

Finally, Y/n broke the kiss to speak.

“I want you to watch me.”

“What?” Dean was panting, his erection so painful in his pants he was afraid it would explode at the slightest touch. Like a hungry lion demanding its prey, he tried to grab Y/n's lips but she refused him access by placing her fingers between them.

“I want you to watch me use the toy…” If she was an angel a few moments ago, the Y/n he had, lying under him on the bed, half naked, was a little devil hidden under the appearance of a Saint.

Just the thought of seeing her in real life masturbating with the monster he had found made Dean gulp and push himself up so he was on his knees. His face was so red, he had trouble understanding how there could still be blood in his length.

“Are you sure? I mean, I… I can’t say no to that, fuck, but… I don’t want you to feel forced or…”

“Dean,” she interrupted, a smile tugging at her lips. “I really want to. And I know you want it too.” Y/n took a deep, slightly shaky breath before continuing. “So… Bring me the one you want me to use… And get comfortable.”

Dean swallowed and looked at his girlfriend's face. Since he had known her, they had never been this far in their intimacy. And he would never have imagined that she had this in her. Obviously he was surprised, but it was a very pleasant surprise. Like an excited child on Christmas morning, Dean rushed to the box of adult toys and once again admired all the choices presented to him. Each of them infused an image, each more erotic than the other, into his mind. For a moment, he hesitated to take the monster he had found shortly before, but decided that for now, this view was better in his mind. And he didn't want to embarrass Y/n even more than she was, what she was proposing was very intimate, very sexy, but also terribly hard to do. To open up like this, to show yourself like this...

Dean returned to his girlfriend, a box in hand. “This one,” he held out the box, knowing full well what it contained. Y/n took it, hesitated for a few seconds while staring at it in her hands. Just as Dean was about to repeat that she didn't have to, that they could continue to just makeout and that was okay, she opened the box and took out the toy.

It was a simple one. No vibration, just a flesh colored dildo with suction at the bottom. It wasn’t the biggest she owned, but it was still big, almost as big as Dean’s cock. So to see her use this, he could easily picture him in her…

Just the thought sent another wave of arousal down his pants.

“Do you need a moment, or lube or…” Dean was still standing up near the bed as she was on her knees on the mattress. For the first time, he was clueless and didn't know what to do. And yet, it was not his first time, nor the last, that he had more kinky moments with his partner. But Y/n was different, she wasn't just his sexual partner, but the woman he loved. And the prospect of getting even closer and more intimate was worth more than any sex he could have.

“I want you to watch the whole thing,” Y/n replied, lifting her ass off the mattress just enough to undo her pants and pull them down along with her panties with just one hand. In an almost expert manner, she finished undressing herself with one hand, her other never letting go of the toy. “You can sit down, you know,” she laughed when she saw Dean still standing where he was, stiff as a stick.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he sat on the edge of the bed and turned his body towards her. It was like he was back at 15 with the most popular girl in school, ready for his first time. Nervousness filled his entire being, along with excitement, and if he wasn't so experienced years later, his erection would have disappeared or he would have come prematurely in his pants.

Dean silently thanked all the girls he had in the past that strengthened his stamina.

“How do you want me to use it?”

Dean could see how nervous she was. It was the first time she was completely naked in front of him, and her body was shaking ever so slightly, shivers that covered her soft skin in goosebumps. But yet, through that nervousness, she was freaking sexy. Still kneeling, she was slowly stroking her intimacy with the toy, coating it with her wetness. And without asking, Dean knew she wouldn’t need any lube.

“Just… Like this, you can ride it…” The words got out of his mouth by automatism. Truth was, Dean was half there now, so excited and focused on her, a part of his mind was shut down. It was so hot, he couldn’t detach his eyes from her body, the way the toy rubbed through her lower lips, how her hips rocked back on it, and her face, so soft, so cute, so embarrassed… With eyes burning in a strong passion.

“Okay,” she whispered. Time seemed to slow down. Dean could feel his heart beating in his head and in his crotch, the intensity growing with each movement she made. Straightening up, she placed the dildo behind her, careful to align it with her entrance, and opened up her legs to let Dean continue watching.

And he could see it all.

It was better than everything he could ever imagine.

The toy was big, but she was probably very wet and very used to it, because it didn’t take long for her to lower down on it. Inch by inch, the dildo disappeared into her entrance until it was almost completely gone. Her body was bent back, her chest glistening with sweat and the cutest moan left her lips.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned. It was too much, so he rushed to open his pants, just enough to free his aching cock. The simple touch sent thousands of electrical shocks of pleasure through his body, but still, his eyes were fixed on her. “You’re so hot, I don’t think I’ll last long,” he held the base of his cock stronger to avoid his climax.

“I don’t think I’ll last long either,” she whimpered. She had started moving already, slowly, up and down on the toy. Since she was on the bed, the succion was useless and she had to hold it with one hand. Dean could see how wet she was on the dildo, and imagined how warm it had to be inside.

Another groan whistled through his teeth.

“Hmmm,” she moaned, picking up speed. “It feels so good… Dean… Look at me…”

He didn’t notice, but his gaze was so focused on the toy and her pussy, he didn’t even look at her face. Blinking hard, he looked up, and when he saw her face, twisted in pleasure, he couldn’t help it.

His hand started moving on his cock at the same rhythm as her.

“Can’t wait to be inside of you,” Dean muttered through his rashing breath. “Must feel so warm in there, and you’re so wet, fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

As an answer, she moaned and closed her eyes for a second. But quickly, she set her gaze on him again, even if it had to be the most embarrassing thing she ever did. She wanted to watch him watch her, watch him stroke his cock, watch him cum with her. “Soon… I promise, soon, you’ll have me, you’ll fuck me as much as you want, whenever you want… I'm ah... All yours, Dean..."

"Y/n." Dean could only say that. Again and again, moaning her name as she continued moving on the toy. "Y/n..."

"Dean, I’m gonna cum, oh my god, I’m…”

It was stronger than her. Never before did she come with only a dildo in her, it always took her hands or a vibrator on her clit to reach the end. But right now, in front of her boyfriend masturbating with her, it was too much. It felt so good.

In an explosion of pleasure, her orgasm ripped through her in a scream. She closed her eyes, her body shaking, her wetness flooding under her and on her bed. But she so didn’t care about this right now.

It took a few moments for her to regain her hearing back, and a few more moments to open her eyes. It was strong, and she suddenly felt so tired, like the world came crashing back on her. Feeling like she could sleep for a whole day without waking up.

Y/n landed her eyes on the man in front of her. Dean had his head bent back, eyes closed, mouth parted. Lower, his cock was still a bit hard, and his release was covering his hand.

“Oh,” she said sadly, realizing she didn’t see him cum. At least, they came together.

“Oh,” Dean repeated, finally opening his eyes to land them on her. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and done,” he admitted, a silly smile filling up his face. So he was too, drunk on pleasure.

“Yeah,” she admitted, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. Wow. They did it. They actually did it. Her joy, thought, left her face quickly as she realized something. “Fuck.”

“What is it?” Dean immediately went on protective boyfriend mode when he heard the change in her voice.

“I think I…” Y/n’s voice was small, so small and shy as she lifted herself from the spot she was in, removing carefully the dildo from her, and looked at the mess she made. “It never happened before, but now my bed… I don’t think I can use it anymore… Oh no…”

“Sweetheart,” Dean rushed to her side, quickly putting himself back in his pants even if he was messy with his release as well. “It’s alright. There’s plenty of other room in the bunker, with other beds.”

“But,” she stammered, her gaze looking down at her hands. “What if I want to… Use your bed, with you?”

Y/n ended up looking up at him, their gaze meeting.

A soft kiss on her lips answered her question, and all of her insecurities washed away.

“My bed is yours, sweetheart. We can always use this room for your books, I’ll ask Sam to help building shelves and-”

Another kiss, this time, more powerful, interrupted his sentence. “God, I love you so much.”

Babum.

The words he never said back before.

Dean thought they would be hard to say. Impossible, even. But he surprised himself with how easy it actually was.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

Supernatural Tag List: @peachyaliien @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl @this-is-me19

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278 @kazsrm67 @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland @deanswaywardgirl @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse @djs8891 @mimaria420 @this-is-me1 @syrma-sensei

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underground-secret · 8 months

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The Hunter and the Witch ~ Dean Winchester x fem! reader

Description: y/n l/n (aka reader) has known the Winchesters ever since they helped her family start anew, away from a town that hated them for being witches. Or more specifically for y/n being a witch and accidentally causing mayhem. So when Dean comes knocking at her door asking for help she obviously complies, even if it means being stuck on the road with the man she’s secretly in love with.

Or it’s basically just y/n following the adventures of Supernatural

warnings: cannon violence, most likely poor representation of witch craft, everything written is fiction and should not be taken seriously

Prologue

Playlist

Season 1

Chapter 1: The Woman in White

Chapter 1~ Continuation

Chapter 2: Wendigo

Chapter 3: Dead In the Water

Chapter 4: Phantom Traveler

Chapter 4.5: Can you Promise Me?

Chapter 5: Bloody Mary

Chapter 6: Skin

Chapter 6.5: You’re not him

Chapter 7: Hook Man

Chapter 7.5: A fool in love

Chapter 8: Home

Chapter 8.5: Reunion

Chapter 9: Asylum

Chapter 10: Scarecrow

Chapter 10.5: Rest

Chapter 11: Faith

Chapter 12: Route 666

Chapter 13: Nightmare

Chapter 13.5: Words mean more at night

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k2ntoss · 4 months

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UNTITLED N°1 !! demon dean

(gif from pinterest, credits to the owner)

tw ⭒ minors dni, SMUT, dirty talk, dean x f!reader, did i already said this is demon dean shit???? i am vibrating on another level istg, fingering (f. receiving), sex toys (vibrator), spanking, oral (m. receiving), p in v, public space, unprotected sex, etc.

a/n ⭒ ian i swear i'll hunt you down for giving me ideas EVERY FUCKING DAY and yeah, implicit the fact of the lipgloss stuff i wrote for jason but a bit different here, it's 1 am and i'm going back home from a party so prob no proof read, shhhh

words count ⭒ 2.505 (at this point i don't even dream of doing something short)

dean was changed since the last time you saw him, right before he received the mark of cain and way before he turned into a damn demon, sam and you looked for him for days until you stumbled with him outside of a night club which wasn't the best situation to find the guy who was supposed to be your boyfriend, the one that once treated you like the most important thing on his life and now only thought of you as another one night stand.

and what are you doing at a night club? well, long night and almost no sleep so you decided to take baby for a ride and maybe look for dean and here you are, standing in front of him while you fight the urge to punch him right across the face when you notice the lipstick smudges he has all over his jaw and neck "you're fucking amazing, dean" the sarcasm that drips from your voice seems to amuse him, dean grins at you with arms crossed over his chest as he walks closer "looks like you can't remember you shouldn't take the things that don't belong to you, sweetheart" he ignores your annoyance completely, walking around you with heavy steps almost as if he was a predator and you were a sick little animal to hunt and torture.

"yeah? i couldn't care less, what the hell are you doing here?" right behind the club the parking lot is almost empty, the led lights drawing shades on your bodies and the muffled music being almost completely hushed by your voice "having fun, can't a man have fun with a bunch of pretty girls? or are you getting jealous?" he has always had a smart mouth but this time his words do hurt a little but they also fuel your anger "you're being an ass, dean" words come out as a growl, avoiding his question because he already knows the answer damn well, it doesn't take humanity to understand that she loved the dean she used to know and that this dean only made her remember him but here again, he couldn't care less about your feelings right now.

"and you're being a pain in the ass, darling" he'll reply once he's in front of you, a devilish smirk on his lips at the same time he leans in making your heart rush because even with dean being a demon there was still an ounce of the man you loved and that minimal part of him still wanted you and only you, it was enough for it to take over and make you notice the glimpse of desire he had, a growing need to press his lips on yours and pin you against the impala, the same one that has already been the place for a good amount of the times you've let yourself melt into each other's touch and oh, if the evil side of dean hasn't used those memories to get off to your vulnerable image when you tremble under your lover. the way he stands so close to you, how he looks at your lips and licks his owns makes you shiver, making your lips part before he gives into your dean's needs; his lips are over yours, a bruising kiss as his hands grip your waist roughly, his touch making you moan from the pain his hands inflicted on your flesh.

once he pulled back you were panting and dean was living for that, his hand ran until it was on your neck "i think i have something in mind that you could enjoy, i miss someone misses fucking you dumb..." he whispers while tilting your head up to make you look up at him, green eyes fixed on yours made feel hypnotized until the point you walked to the passenger seat as dean got behind the steering wheel, the sigh making you even more hungry because the way he drove always made things to you. dean made the engine roar, pulling into the road until you both were sure it was safe to start anything. dean leaned to your side, his arm going behind your sit until he was able to reach a small vibrator he had used before with you, one of your road adventures from the past "are you gonna be good for me?" his voice was filled with a hint of what felt like mischief but also that cockiness that was part of him, you knew that maybe this wasn't the best idea, you should be the one driving to take dean back to the bunker but you mind was full of the bunch of memories of your boyfriend's dick deep inside of you and that was enough to make you forget any other responsability for at least a while, it had been a good long time since the last time you had any kind of sexual interaction thanks to him so, why not take the chance? so you nodded at him, lips pressed in a thin line as you waited for his next move.

there's a smirk on dean's face as he drives single handled, twisting the small vibrator between his fingers, dropping it on your thigh while you shift on your seat "sit pretty and spread those pretty legs of yours for me" he orders simply and you obey, legs spread enough for him to reach with his hand, undoing your belt and buttons before he slides two fingers under your clothes, starting to caress you slowly, torturing he plays with your clit circling over it before he pinches it softly making you moan shamelessly "fuck, dean..." you mutter when one of your hands goes to grab his wrist to make him stop when his fingers circle a bit faster "oh, you're being a little killjoy" he taunts with a click of his tongue but he takes his hand off you to grab the toy, turning it on just to slide it until he's able to press it against your sensitive bud, the vibrations making you gasp and hold onto the leather seat "just as slutty as always, aren't you? bet you've been dreaming about being fucked by me a lot lately" words making you moan and buck your hips, your eyes fixed on his movements when dean takes his hand away again, fingers coated on your wetness which he licks while glacing at you, the action only making you squirm in need of his mouth on you "and also as sweet as always, mhm, i could pull over and eat your pussy but i have other things in mind... close your legs, baby, and don't even think you can cum before i say you can."

with your legs closed the vibrator was pressed a little harder on your clit, it makes you sigh and whimper in the five eternal minutes it takes dean to find a good place to pull over, behind a small bar. he opens the door, getting to the back seat and sitting there, legs spread and his arms across the back of the seat "aren't you gonna come here, baby?" he asks teasingly, of course he was asking you to walk yourself out of the car and to the back seat, shaky legs and overstimulated, cursing him on your mind but still growing needier so when you get off the car and open the back door you can't help but bite your lip when dean is there undoing his belt and taking it off slowly with his eyes glued to you "come here and lay on my lap, sweetheart" he takes your hand in his, pulling you in taking advantage of your weak legs to make you lay on his lap, tummy flat over the seat while your hips rest over his legs when he closes the door before his hand stops on your ass, stroking you softly as he started to pull your jeans down slowly exposing your silky panties, chuckling lowly at the sight of the wet spot between your legs where the vibrator was still making you squirm and moan "so fucking wet, mhm? thought you would be harder to break down... such a easy whore" dean's voice is as rough and low as all the times you've found yourself so needy and hot for him, the big difference was that right now he was indeed a big bad wolf about to eat you alive.

every thought was erased of your head as soon as you felt his belt comming down to hit your ass, making you moan as dean's free hand snaked between your thighs to pull off the vibrator "oh, the little girl enjoys being spanked? you have a pretty sick mind, huh, you like being treated as a slut?" another spank falls on your rear, making you squirm and hold back a loud whimper before you nod "i love it... when you treat me like that" you moan, your reaction brings a wide grin to his face as he lets the leather belt fall again on your ass, the red marks of it standing over your skin as a sing of the way it would bruise by the morning, fuel for dean to keep it up until your cheeks were all red, your hips up with your ass on the air and your eyes teary from how much you needed him "god... dean, please" you beg and he growls at your voice.

"down. on your knees" he is quick to command, making you kneel on the floor, sitting all pretty and obedient between his legs as he undoes his jeans, pulling them down with his boxers making your mouth water at how hard his dick was in front of you "open that pretty mouth of yours, i want to fuck your face" the amount of dirty words turning you, leaning in you place your hands on his thighs while your tongue runs over his lenght tasting him and moaning softly at the way dean is looking at you. the growl he lets out when your lips are wrapped around his tip is gutural, his left hand going to grab a handful of your hair while you suck on him, tiny licks on him that leave your lips shiny from his precum "never thought a slut could look as pretty as you, mhm, those lips all pretty and shiny for me" he says in a low and raspy tone before he pulls your head by your hair, pressing his cock between your lips to make you swallow him right before he starts to move you, his hands making you bob your head causing you to gag and choke. your eyes are closed but it doesn't stop a few tears from falling from your eyes while dean pushes his dick into your mouth, throat fucking you between growls and moans of pure pleasure, smirking each time you gag and chuckling when he lets you pull away to breath but it doesn't take you too much until you're again looking to put his dick into your mouth "oh, baby so hungry... a needy whore that loves choking on my cock"

you whine when dean pulls you away from him, his hand grips your hair to bring you back to his lap but this time he makes you sit with your back pressed against his chest "i need to fuck that sweet pussy of yours, sweetheart, wanna see you ride me like a fucktoy" he whispers into your ear before making you lean forward, your ass perfectly pressed against him and a nice view of your hips and waist when he lifts you up and pulls your panties to the side before pushing his dick inside your snug walls in a rough thrust "so damn thight... gonna make you scream, baby" dean growls while his hands hold your waist to urge you to start moving.

at first you're just grinding your hips against his, feeling his dick moving inside of you in a way that made you moan softly but the need building inside your tummy made your movements change into quick and sloppy hops while you held yourself on the front seats, tits bouncing and your ass slapping against his body "that's a good bunny, fucking yourself on my cock like a good slut" a low moan escapes his lips and his hands are sliding under your black top, lifting the fabric until his hands are squeezing your breasts "you know how i love it when you're not wearing anything under your shirts? love this perfect tits of yours" you moan when his fingers are toying with your nipples at the same time he decides to move his hips to meet your movements, making him reach deeper inside of you.

anyone who came out of the bar sober enough could see what was going out inside of the impala, the sight of you bouncing with your eyes closed and mouth open as you moaned loudly enough to be heard if someone came closer to the car, it only turned you on more and it showed in the way your pussy clenched around dean like a vice, his strokes only going faster and harder when your legs started to fail you to keep on bouncing on him "who would have thought you would like to be seen getting fucked like a whore, mhm, you enjoy the way everyone knows you're getting dicked down so good, baby?" and you nod, your moans making it hard for you to speak properly, dean is laughing at you and it's humillating but it also makes you hornier "dean... i need to cum, please" your pleas are met with a hard squeeze on your tits and a hard thrust "really, bunny?" he asks with a smirk, hands back on your waist before he leans in to press a kiss on your back "do it, baby, cum all over my cock" and it takes you nothing, your pussy is squeezing him hard making a dark growl escape him and you're about to ask him to fill you up when dean lifts you, sitting you on his lap " 'm not filling your greedy pussy, love, not like you deserve it" he grunts, his hand around his dick as he strokes himself.

dean growls behind you, he's fisting his cock and moving his hand using your wetness to make his task easier and the lewd sounds make you eager to feel his hot load wherever he wants to put it on you "mhm, want me to cum on your dirty body, slut?" he asks with a smirk as his hand slows down for a bit "yes, please..." you say softly and it's the only thing dean needs before he cums behind you, white streaks painting your back and ass as he bites your shoulder harshly "there you go, huh... such a nasty whore" dean mutters on your neck, kissing your skin and nibbling on it "the best fuck i've had lately"

#mara's thoughts #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x f!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural

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wildgirllz · 1 year

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Imagine Dean surprising reader when he was supposed to be gone for another week, but he has reasoning behind these sweet antics..

Smut! 18+

Oral (f receiving), Deans overall love for a woman with a fluffy bush :)

“Honey I’m home!”

Dean stomps his large combat boots into the house, causing a slight rumble.

You shuffle out of bed at lightning speed to grab him the second he sets his jacket on the couch.

Your legs wrap around him and you squeal his name.

“Dean! Baby you’re home! I missed you so much!”

He chuckles and grabs your thighs to keep you easily situated on his hips.

“I wanted to surprise you, sugar.” He says, a slight southern drawl escaping his lips.

“What a gentleman.” you say, feigning surprise, you put your hand on your chest.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” He growls out. Next thing you know, he’s rushing to the bedroom.

He tosses you down on the bed, and pulls your shorts down quickly.

“Dean, I.. I haven’t..”

You hadn’t shaved. You thought he would be gone for another week, so you planned on doing it right before he got back so you could be all smooth and pretty for him.

You’d never been with him sexually without shaving, or being very very neatly and shortly trimmed.

“God, honey. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this”

He nuzzles his entire face into your fluffy bush and sighs contently, looking like an excited puppy.

You couldn’t stop thinking. What if he couldn’t find, you know what..?

Your question was quickly given an answer as he spread your fuzzy folds with his fingers, immediately diving in for a taste.

He was practically inhaling all your fluids. Your hips, grinding all over his face, spurred him on.

“God, sugar. You taste amazing.”

Your insecurities flew out of the window and all you could focus on was the immense pleasure running through your body.

“Im gonna.. Dean, oh god.” You shuddered out.

“Let go baby. Let go.”

You finished, sloppily, all over his face. He continued his antics until your body was twitching with overstimulation.

The pleasure of your orgasm was still thrumming through you body as Dean raised his head up from between your legs, a wide grin spread across his glistening face.

“You better stop shaving from here on out, woman.”

Please leave requests! (As in detail and weird as you want!!) :)

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester au #dean winchester x female!reader #Dean Winchester x f!reader #spn smut #supernatural smut

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babeydollx · 8 months

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Bad Girls Don't Get To Cum

❀ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: smut, daddy kink, punishment, edging, p in v, unprotected sex

❀ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

❀ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: In which Dean punishes Y/N by edging her.

❀ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: This is my first fic trying out this new kind of layout. I may add gifs or photos/collages but for now they may be blank. I may still go back and edit the rest of them but idk yet seems like a lot of work lmao.

You whimpered and whined as Dean flipped you over onto your stomach before thrusting into your abused pussy once again. He had been edging you for hours. You knew that by doing what you did that you would end up getting some type of punishment, you knew you were suppose to obey the rules but, you'd rather be a brat instead.

"I- fuck- please, Dean!" You moaned out as his cock thrusted into you hard and faster, the tip hitting that spongey spot deep inside of you. "Dean? You know that's not my name, princess." Dean said with a smirk. You whined as he continued to fuck into your abused hole. "Come on, say it." Dean growled. "Fuck! Please, daddy!" You moaned out loudly.

"Atta girl." He said with a devilish smirk as he smacked your ass roughly. You kept begging and begging Dean to let you cum, your begs eventually becoming inaudible when you became a moaning mess for him. "You want daddy to let you cum, is that what you want, baby?" He asked with a smirk. You just nodded quickly. "No, no, baby.. you know we use our words." He said.

"Shit! Yes, I want daddy to let me cum! Please let me cum, daddy!" You moaned out loudly, almost yelling and screaming. "Well, tell me this, do you think naughty little sluts deserve to cum?" He asked with a growl as he smacked your ass hard once again, the skin already stinging from his first attack on your ass. "Please! I'll be a good girl for daddy, I promise! Please!" You begged him more.

"Who owns this pussy?" Dean asked. "You do, daddy!" You said as you moaned out loudly. "Who fucks you better than anyone else?" He asked. "Still you! O- only you!" You yelled. "Damn right." He said with a growl as he picked up the pace even more. "Come on, cum, cum for daddy." He said.

With that your eyes rolled back, your whole body was trembling as the coil inside of your snapped causing you to gush all over your boyfriend's cock. Dean continued to fuck your cunt hard and fast, the feeling of overstimulation setting in now. Your eyes began to water a little as your walls fluttered around his hard cock causing him to cum now, shooting his load deep inside of you causing his seeds to cover your gummy walls.

Dean slowly pulled his cock out of your cunt once you both came down from your orgasms. You laid there on the breath sticky, sweaty, and breathless. Dean laid down beside you and he was also catching his breath as well. "Did I go too hard?" He asked softly as he gently removed some hair out of your face that was sticking to your forehead. "No, I love it." You said with a grin as you leaned in and kissed him. "Mm.. I love you, Dean." You said with a warm smile. "I love you too, Y/N." He said with a grin.

Author's Note: tysm for reading! <3

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strwbrrykss · 2 years

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𝖍𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝖓 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖐 | 𝖉. 𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗

{𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡} 𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝑇𝑤𝑜: Hide N Seek 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟: Dean Winchester 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: THIS IS AN 18+/MDNI EVENT, language, sub!reader, Dom!Dean(ish), teasing, sex in unconventional places, prey/predator type of vibes, oral (m + f), overstimulation if you squint, lmk if I missed anything!

[A/N: Day two babbyyy! This one is a little more removed from canon as I couldn’t think of any other way to make it happen, so it’s a little short, but nonetheless, here we go! As always, reblogs and feedback are golden and would definitely keep me motivated for this event - I’m always excited to hear what you think! - L]

-/-/-

At first glance, the abandoned mall was a bad place to play a game like this. However, it was the first time in months that there was no imminent danger for either of you.

“C’mon, darlin’... You can’t hide forever,” Dean taunted, his voice echoing around the empty walkways and storefronts. A giddiness took over you as you stayed put behind a staggered display counter. The sound of each approaching foot step sent butterflies to your stomach.

“But you know what’s gonna happen if I find you...” That was the thrilling part in all of this. What had started as a stupid What If had transpired to what it was now; leaving you playing hide and seek with Dean, with an added twist. For each time he found you, he could have his way with you.

The anticipation of hearing his footsteps gradually get closer had you squeezing your thighs together. You hadn’t hidden in a particularly hard to find spot, deliberately because the thrill of the game made you want to be caught.

With a shiver down your spine, you realised it had gone quiet. You took a deep breath in before a presence over your shoulder made you pause.

“Found you,” Dean stated with a smug grin. You shuffled around to face him, now kneeling on the slick tile floor. He stood up and forced you to look up at him, wide-eyed and giddy.

“What are you going to do?”

“Oh - oh no, sweetheart, it’s what you are gonna do,” he replied with a flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. You watched as he moved back towards a waist-high counter and steadied himself against it.

It wasn’t even like he needed to say anything, judging by the tent in his jeans already, you willingly shuffled across the floor to make yourself comfortable at his feet. With a cocky grin, he undid his belt and opened his jeans. You tried everything in your power to seem less needy than you were really feeling by taking a little more time, despite the fact that you couldn’t wait.

The low, drawn-out moan that came from the pit of his chest when you first put your mouth on him made your thighs clench. Despite wanting him, you decided to keep it slow and steady to begin with. Small, flat licks against the underside of his dick, moving up the shaft towards the head slowly.

“Goddamn, sweetheart -” he groaned and tipped his head back, another guttural moan had you whimpering around him in reply.

When he reached a hand out to cradle the back of your head, you knew he was now putty in your hands. The sounds you drew out of him were ones you tried to commit to memory, for those nights alone in seedy motels when Dean wasn’t there.

Using your hand to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth, you kept going, tears welled in your eyes as you did all that you could to pull his soul from his body. And moments later, you succeeded. His hips stuttered and for a moment, the air rushed out of his lungs, leaving him speechless.

“Holy shit...” Swallowing as much as you could with a Cheshire Cat grin, not looking away from his flushed, blissed-out face.

“How long do I have to hide?” Once Dean had caught his breath and done up his jeans and belt, he ran his tongue along his bottom lip again.

“Twenty seconds. Go.”

-/-/-

“Gotcha.” And within a matter of seconds you were against the changing room mirror, jeans pushed down to your knees, underwear with them. The only warning you got from Dean was the jingle of his belt before he lined himself up and rocked forward. Your legs almost gave out from under you and the noise that came from your mouth almost didn’t sound like your voice.

“Fuck -” you whimpered as he rutted against you again and again.

“Ah-ah, look at the mirror, darlin’,” he instructed when he noticed your eyes screwed shut.

“Takin’ it so good for me, huh? Bein’ such a good girl,” Dean drawled in your ear, earning a moan in reply as he hit that one spot over and over.

“Dean - I... I’m -”

“What? What’s the matter darlin’?” he goaded, knowing full well that you were struggling to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.

“M’gonna -” And there it was. Release hit you like a breath of fresh air, leaving you fluttering and clenching around his cock with your eyes screwed shut and your mouth agape.

“Fuck, darlin’... Was it that easy?” Dean slowed down so each deliberate, measured rock of his hips pushed your further into white-hot bliss.

“You - Make me feel good,” you gasped as he reached around you and felt for that familiar bundle of nerves between your aching folds. As though he could tell that your legs wouldn’t hold you up for much longer, he pulled you backwards so he could sit on the bench and keep you in his lap.

“As soon as I’m done with you... You’ve got twenty seconds to hide...” he warned between hot, chaste kisses to the back of your neck.

And when he did finally let you go, on aching, wobbly legs you took off through the abandoned mall once more, Dean’s voice echoed behind you, counting down.

“Ready or not! Here I come!” he called out as you practically skidded into an old furniture outlet, under the half-drawn shutters. With your head spinning and your stomach aflutter with butterflies, you hurried into a vintage-looking wardrobe unit.

“I know you’re in here...” he taunted, though it was muffled at first. You kept a shaking hand over your mouth to quiet your ragged breathing, listening for any sign that he was getting too close.

“C’mon, don’t be shy... Especially not after that little stunt in the dressing rooms back there.” Heat flooded everywhere as he continued to taunt and tease, no doubt whilst aimlessly wandering the aisles of forgotten and ageing furniture.

“If you’re good, I’ll bend you over this desk right here -” It took all your willpower not to moan at the thought.

“- Or maybe on this table? I figure you’d look real pretty all spread out on this nice, varnished wood...” His voice was close now, perhaps only a few feet away. You couldn’t shift your weight from foot to foot without risking the whole unit creaking, so you opted to keep as still as possible.

“Sweetheart?” Cramp in your little toe made you change the way you stood and the wardrobe gave you up in an instant. You hoped against hope that he hadn’t heard it, but the smartass knocked twice on the door.

“Shit!”

“Now, now, play the game. I never chalked you up to be a rule breaker.”

-/-/-

@wintersoldierbaby @this-is-me19

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x f!reader #f!reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester imagine #supernatural #spn #spn smut #supernatural smut #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #kinktober 2022 #day two #strwbrry writes

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honeybear-yammy · 2 years

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Bad Girls Don't Get To Cum

Warnings: cursing, smut, daddy kink, punishment, edging, p in v, unprotected sex

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: In which Dean punishes Y/N by edging her.

Kinktober Day 13 - Edging

Author's Note: tysm for reading!

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mggsv · 7 months

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The French Kiss

gn!reader x dean winchester

summary: Turns out..you’ve never kissed anyone before, to Dean’s surprise, so he teaches you.

warnings: none! fluff, first time kissing, intense kissing, heavy touching

“Oh come on- you serious?” His mocking laugh made to shrink more into yourself. Sitting there wearing an oversized sweatshirt that covered your legs. You sat there on Dean’s bed in the bunker, only you two in the home-like place. “I’m serious.” You muttered.

“You’ve never kissed anyone?”

“No.”

“I find that to be bullshit- Have you seen yourself?” That made you shiver. You look up at him, face flushed in embarrassment. He popped open a bottle of water and came closer. “I know i’m hot. Trust me, i’m well aware.” You scoff, “doesn’t mean I just go around kissing people, unlike some of us..”

He rolled his eyes at that, taking a seat next to you, “Well, don’t just sit there- come on.” He motions you forward and your body moves on its own, scooting closer to him. This whole thing- You and Dean, it was new to you. For years you kept to yourself until a case brought you to the Winchesters. Since then, you’ve been inseparable. It was only recently you started to feel something for Dean..seeing him in a way you’ve never seen before.

It was days like these in the bunker where you two just talked comfortably- that’s how it started. Your talks together..just You and Dean.

You lean forward, lips puckered, ready to kiss him. But he laughs, “Dude- okay come on. We have to set the mood. Loosen up a bit huh?” His hands move forward, grabbing your chin. Your hands shook nervously… His thumb grazed your cheek, his other hand gently coming down on your thigh. “It happens naturally..” He murmured, lips close to yours. “So I’ve heard.” you swallow nervously, eyes looking at his as they fluttered shut.

“Close your eyes.” you hear him groan. your eyes flutter shut, and then you felt it- Dean’s lips pressed against yours. You couldn’t help the small gasp that slipped out of your mouth. His lips move against yours. It felt strange, you felt light but your heart heavy. Your hands grip his shirt, and he pulled back.

“Well?” He asks, hands still at your thigh, skidding up.

“Is that it?”

“Oh we haven’t even done french kissing.” He laughs as you catch your breath. Dean lays your body back on the bed, slowly hovering over your body. “Let me know if this is too much okay?”

“..Okay.” you murmur, wanting his lips back on yours. “I’m gonna do something different- and if you don’t like it then-“

“Kiss me already please Dean, god.” That makes him laugh and his lips are back on yours in an instant. Your body felt hot, at the touch of his hand going from your thigh to your hip. His thumb grazing over the bone gently. They ran over the stretch marks, making you gasp. Dean took that opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips.

It made you jump- the feeling strange and new. But he’s gentle…something you didn’t expect from Dean in any way possible. His tongue slips over your own, like a blanket. He damn near swallows your mouth whole. He lets out a small grunt, and you could tell he held back some.

You kissed him back to the best of your ability, even when your teeth bumped against his- he said it was okay- you still kissed. Your body was on fire. You couldn’t help but let out a small noise when he pulled back. His lips red, yours swollen.

“Well?” He asks, looking down at you with a small smile. “How was that for our first lesson?”

“First lesson?” You pant.

“Well yeah, doesn’t just stop there.” He scoffs out a laugh

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chvoswxtch · 7 months

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texas heat

pairing: dean winchester x disabled!female reader

summary: when the texas heat causes a bad flare up in your body, you lose your temper with dean. but that doesn't stop him from taking care of you.

warnings: swearing, angst, dean being a charming fucker, fluffy ending

word count: 2.9k

a/n: a huge thank you to my darling @mars-rants-a-lot for trusting me with this, and being so informative and helpful to make sure this was as accurate as possible. i hope this brings the comfort you were looking for. this one's for you. 🖤 as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Being in the car for three hours straight did nothing to help the sour mood that you had woken up in. Despite changing sitting positions several times to the extent your body could handle, you couldn’t seem to get comfortable in the Impala. Not only did your lower back feel incredibly stiff, like a tense rubber band that had been stretched entirely too thin, there was also a sharp pain aching in your knees. Someone might as well have taken a white hot iron to them with a vengeance.

When Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of a motel, you didn’t wait for him to assist you in getting out like you normally did. Instead, the second he shifted the gear into park, you pushed open the passenger side door, antagonizing the sting of merciless arthritis even further along the column of your wrist as if you had tossed a lit match into a bone dry field. Putting your cane down firmly on the concrete, you attempted to use it along with the door handle as leverage to push yourself upwards. The Texas heat was even more unforgiving as it seared your skin without a layer of glass protecting it, and you could already feel sweat beading along your hair, like some kind of saltwater crown.

While you were struggling and sweltering, Dean had quickly jogged around to your side, pushing the door open further and ducking down to be eye level with you.

“Whoa, easy there sweetheart. Lemme help ya.”

He wore that dazzling toothy grin that you adored so much, and his subtle charming dimples that settled above the edges of his lips were on full display. Dean was already reaching out to place his hand on your waist to help you get out of the car, just like he had done a thousand times before. But between the blazing heat and the searing pain spreading throughout your body like catastrophic wildfire, you didn’t find it nearly as endearing as you normally did.

It snapped the final paperthin straw of patience that you had.

Shoving his hand away spitefully with all the force you could muster in your agonizingly sore wrist, you narrowed your eyes into vexed slits and glared up at Dean.

“Jesus Christ, Dean. I’m disabled, not helpless. Can you just back off?”

The bright smile on Dean’s lips fell harder than an angel from grace, and clouds of shock and perplexity suddenly cast over his handsome features. It was as if his crisp green eyes had turned sour with dejection when your acidic words reached his heart, leaving searing scars in their angry path. Dean Winchester, who had spent his entire life hunting monsters and demons and every kind of evil imaginable, was completely frozen on the spot. You had never lashed out at him before, and he couldn’t produce a single clue in his brain to figure out what he had done wrong to upset you.

Getting out of the Impala on your own was harder than competing in an Olympic sport you hadn’t trained for, and it only depleted your energy even further. The ground seemed to be wobbling under your feet the way a bridge in a fun house would, and you abruptly began to rue your decision to stand up so quickly after sitting in a car for three hours. The wind was knocked out of your lungs by your own impatience, and the weight of your frustration settled on your chest brick by brick with every step you attempted to take. The unforgiving stiffness in your wrist made it extremely difficult to grasp the handle of your cane. Medusa might as well have turned your hand to stone with the way you couldn’t move your fingers under the handle of the cane, or grasp it at all.

Every little thing only fueled your resentment towards your own body, and it made you want to scream. Not even three minutes of trying to walk towards the motel room on your own, and your heart was palpitating furiously beneath your rib cage while you floundered with panic trying to breathe. The sun’s rays nearly blinded you, forcing you to tilt your head down, afflicting you with a sense of vertigo that had everything around you spinning faster than a rogue carousel. A dull headache began to throb at the base of your skull, rising louder in volume the more the extreme heat depleted your body of hydration, rendering it a barren desert. The sweat streaming down your skin was almost molten, and it caused your clothes to stick uncomfortably to your body like a foreign second skin.

Dean’s name was caught in the back of your throat, but your mouth was so dry, and your tongue felt like it had shriveled three sizes, that you couldn’t get it out. The sound of your cane clamoring against the concrete barely registered in your ears, and for a moment, your vision went completely black. But as you felt yourself free falling into some kind of abyss, a pair of strong arms caught you.

Floating in and out of consciousness, the comforting pressure and warmth surrounding you made you feel like you were wrapped in your favorite anxiety blanket. But then you smelt the familiar cologne of gunpowder, whiskey, and mint. You knew exactly who that scent belonged to. You would recognize the melody of Dean’s steady heartbeat anywhere. It had lulled you to sleep on several occasions. An arctic blast suddenly nipped at your heated cheeks, and it caused you to sigh in content feeling the way it lowered your body’s internal temperature.

The moment you felt the pressure and warmth becoming faint, your eyes snapped open, and you stared up at Dean in pure panic. He took in the alarm written clearly on your features, and reached out to gently take your hand as he bent down slightly to adjust the pillows behind your head.

“I’m just gonna go get your bag, alright? Be right back.”

The soothing timbre of his unspoken promise soothed your anxiety slightly, and Dean’s protective gaze remained on you while he rounded the motel bed and headed for the door. He liked to keep an extra bag for you in the Impala just in case you were ever running low on anything. You had once made the joke that he could do a pop up weapons depot and a hospital right out of his trunk.

In record timing, Dean was crossing the threshold of the motel room and was over to you in less than four strides. Sometimes you forgot just how fast he was. Those adorable bowlegs could really move. There was a look of pure concentration embedded on his sharp features while he pulled out various items from the bag. His petal pink lips were pursed slightly in a faint pout, chestnut brows were drawn together, and the crystal green of his eyes had darkened considerably in a way you’d only seen when he and Sam were getting ready for a hunt.

“Dean-”

“Don’t talk. You need water.”

The faint croaking of your dehydrated vocal chords barely registered any volume in the quiet hotel room. Meanwhile Dean’s gruff command seemed to echo off the tacky red and orange art deco wallpaper that was peeling at the crown molding and baseboards. You watched him remorsefully as he mixed a strawberry electrolyte packet with a bottle of water and shook it mercilessly. He always remembered to get your favorite flavor.

Dean twisted the cap off the water bottle and set it on the night stand for a moment. Snaking his arm behind your back, he carefully sat you up gingerly, positioning the pillows behind your back and neck to allow you to sit up comfortably. After placing a heating pad against your lower back, he delicately lowered your back against the pillows and grasped two pain reliever pills between his thumb and index finger and held them in front of your mouth.

“Here, take these.”

“Dean-”

“Don’t argue with me when I can see how much pain you’re in. Take ‘em.”

You knew better than to argue with him when he had his mind set on something. Parting your lips just enough for him to drop the pills into your mouth, you gazed up at him softly as he brought the bottle of water to your lips and gently slipped his left hand into your hair to cradle the back of your head.

“Drink the whole thing. Take your time.”

The juxtaposition of Dean being so firm yet so gentle with you at the same time always amazed you. It was rare you ever saw him treat anyone else like that, and it made you think he reserved it just for you. Your heart wanted to believe it was because he cared about you, really cared, and that he wanted to spark that fuse of friendship to explode into something colorful and more like you did. But your brain dismissed that it was simply because you were disabled and that you were vital to him and Sam as their person behind the scenes.

After finishing the entire water, Dean set the empty bottle down on the nightstand and turned the heating pad on medium heat. The bloom of warmth slowly started to ease the ache in your lower back, and you were suddenly aware of the pain in your jaw from clenching it so hard during your grueling POTS flare up. Dean swiftly but tenderly removed the braces from your wrists and knees to allow your body to sink into relaxation. He carefully removed your shoes and slipped tall compression socks on your feet before unfolding your weighted anxiety blanket and placing it over you delicately and tucking you in.

The air was still thick and tense with your treacherous treatment of him earlier, and the guilt pooling in your stomach nearly made you nauseous. He didn’t deserve that. He was just trying to help you. He was always trying to help.

“Dean, I'm sorry.”

Dean’s entire body language changed as soon as he heard the tears in your voice. His broad shoulders visibly relaxed beneath his forest green flannel, and his hardened features morphed into a soft look of empathy. His eyes were back to their normal shade of enchanting green, and they were shining with understanding and compassion. Letting out a deep exhale through his nose, Dean took a seat on the bed next to you and hunched over slightly, resting his elbows on his denim covered thighs.

“You got nothin’ to be sorry for.”

“I was mean-”

“You weren’t mean. You’re havin’ a bad day, and you’re struggling, and I didn’t catch it. I’m the one that should be sorry.”

Leave it to Dean Winchester to try and shoulder the blame for something that was nowhere near his fault. Emerald guilt was already forming around the outer rim of his irises, and even though there was still a lingering flame nipping at the nerves in your wrist, you stiffly reached out for one of his hands. As soon as Dean caught your fingers in his peripheral, he instinctively enveloped your hand delicately in his larger one. His hands were always so warm, and even though they were a bit rough with scars and callouses from a lifetime of trying to be the best soldier, to you they felt soothing and were a sense of tangible comfort.

“Listen to me. What happens to my body is not your fault. It’s out of your control just as much as it’s out of mine.”

“We were on the road for three hours straight. I shoulda stopped, given you breaks from sittin’ so long. I shoulda made sure there was enough refrigerant in the tank. The A/C wasn’t hardly blastin’ a damn thing. I shoulda just left you at the motel in Arkansas-”

“You said you didn’t want to leave me alone because Sam-”

“I know, and I didn’t. But better you bein’ in a nice cool motel than fuckin’ Texas. The heat here’s too much for you, sweetheart. I shoulda known how it was gonna hit you. I shoulda made sure you were drinkin’ your electrolytes the whole ride-”

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze to halt his self-condemnation, he finally met your gaze. A tender smile graced your lips as you shakily lifted your hand up to place on the side of his cheek, enjoying the slight tickle of his coarse scruff against your palm. He instantly leaned into your touch, and his body deflated slightly in content at the contact. You brushed your thumb along his sharp cheekbone to the best of your ability and let out a gentle sigh, shaking your head slightly as you gazed at him in adoration.

“You take on too much, D. The weight of the world isn’t yours to carry.”

“I’m not worried about the world. I’m worried about you.”

The firmness in his deep voice and the intensity of his gaze nearly knocked the wind out of you all over again. You weren’t used to him being so serious unless it was regarding a case or something with Sam.

“I’m alright-”

“You blacked out.”

“And you caught me and took care of me, like you always do.”

You were too exhausted to argue with over the over six feet of pure stubbornness sitting in front of you. The electrolytes were steadily getting rid of your cotton mouth and foreboding sense of dehydration, and the heating pad felt marvelous against your agitated lower back. The motel bed surprisingly did not feel like it was made of cardboard, and the pillows Dean had placed around you almost felt cloudlike. As you closed your heavy eyelids and let out a deep exhale, you could still feel Dean’s intense gaze on you, and an idea to melt the icy tension suddenly popped into your head.

“You know D, there is actually…one thing that I think would really help me right now.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to contain your grin, hearing Dean shuffle closer on the bed. Even though your eyes were closed, you knew exactly what look of concern and curiosity was plastered on his features.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

Peeking one of your eyes open, you stared up at him with faux innocence.

“Well…I mean…I don’t want you to go out of your way, you do have a case to work-”

Dean shook his head firmly and gestured with his chin down in your direction.

“Tell me whatcha need.”

Letting out an overly dramatic sigh, you brought your hand up to place the back of it against your forehead, like a damsel in distress in an old Hollywood movie, as your lips pursed into a distressed pout.

“Salted Caramel ice cream.”

Dean’s expression of concern quickly vanished into a deadpan look that let you know he was absolutely and completely done with you, and it made you burst into stomach cramping laughter. Dean tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling in exasperation, as if he was silently asking God why me.

“And I thought Sammy was dramatic.”

When he swiftly stood up from the bed, you attempted to hide your grin while staring up at him in faux annoyance.

“Hey, you have to be nice to people that are disabled.”

Dean arched one of his chestnut brows as he turned his head to stare over at you in a playful look of defiance.

“Not if they’re a brat.”

When he opened the door to the hotel, you couldn’t help but giggle at the look on his face.

“Oh! You know what would also really help? Frescas con crema. But make sure it’s-”

“Strawberry. I know. Drink your damn salt water. And do not put on Criminal Minds.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know how you sweat when that one guy with the dorky haircut and permanent frown shows up.”

“You mean Hotch?”

Dean pursed his full lips in slight annoyance seeing the grin on your face and the slight purr to your voice when you said his name. Tilting your head to the side slightly, the mischievous grin stretched further over your lips.

“You know Dean, you have that exact same ‘dorky’ haircut.”

Dean let out a dry scoff and crossed his arms across his chest, face twisted up in absolute rejection.

“No I don’t. Mine is way better than his.”

“You’re kinda frowny sometimes too. And you do have an FBI badge.”

Dean’s expression melted slightly into a look of recognition, like a lightbulb had gone off in his head. Before you could tease him anymore about it, he grabbed the remote and placed it on the tv stand across the room, pointing an accusatory finger in your direction.

“No TV, take a nap.”

“But Dean!”

“Nap, young lady!”

As Dean shut the door behind him and you watched him through the window stalk over to the Impala pouting like a child, you couldn’t help but laugh. Once the roar of the engine faded down the street, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and smirked to yourself as you opened an app to pick up on the last episode of Criminal Minds you had left off on.

“Sorry, D. You’re not coming between me and Hotch.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x disabled!female reader #dean winchester x disabled!fem reader #dean winchester x disabled!f reader #dean winchester fic #supernatural #supernatural fic

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sofreddie · 11 months

Text

Afraid to Love

Summary: Afraid of love, afraid of the Mark, afraid of the consequences of their night together, she ran. When Dean shows up in her life again, she has to decide whether to accept the second chance she's been presented with or give in to her instinct to run.

Characters: Dean x F!Reader, Sam, Mary

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut (Unprotected Sex), More Angst, More Smut (Unprotected Sex - these two! - Oral Sex), Even more Angst, Fluff

DEAN: BED SHARING (@spndeanbingo)

WC: 6,403

A/N: This started as a simple, small little thing and just grew into something else entirely. Sometimes fics just take on a life of their own. These two didn't want to be simple. Oh no! These two wanted to be complicated and straight up dumb (wrap it before you tap it y'all, I shouldn't have to tell you this). Ah, the beauty of fiction!

“So, was it Amara?” Sam asked his older brother as he packed up their bags. Now that the case was done, it was time to leave the motel.

“No,” Dean shook his head as he let out a long breath. “I-I thought it would be too. I really did.”

Sam’s brow furrowed as he listened to Dean’s words. The Qareen they were fighting took on the form of one’s deepest desire. Since the Mark had been lifted, Dean had been obsessed with Amara, unable to hurt or resist her. He was certain it would have been her image that his brother saw. Maybe it really was one of the Daisy Dukes?

“Then who-”

“Y/N.”

The name hung heavy in the air between them as the silence stretched out. Dean looked absolutely distraught and Sam’s heart ached for him.

He hadn’t thought about Y/N in a while, and he felt guilty for it. She had left when Dean first got the Mark, worried for how it was already affecting him. She took off in the night, leaving behind a note. The brothers had been unable to find her anywhere.

Sam secretly looked for her face in every passing stranger they saw. He knew Dean was upset and heartbroken when Y/N left, having been close friends with her. Sam didn’t realize just how much Dean had apparently cared for her, the Qareen appearing as her and breaking Dean all over again.

“You ever gonna tell me what happened between you two?” Sam asked as they climbed into the Impala, ready to head home. Dean drove down the road, the silence stretched out for miles.

"You remember the night she left? You hooked up with that redhead from the bar-"

"Wait. Is that why she left? Because I brought a girl back?" Sam began to panic.

"What? No!" Dean scoffed, "Full of yourself much?"

"You just said-"

"If you'd let me finish…"

One hand holding tightly onto the strap on her shoulder, Y/N raised her other hand, took a deep breath, and knocked quickly on the door. She listened as footsteps approached, a pause, then several locks being disengaged.

The door opened and a smirking Dean Winchester leaned against the doorframe. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Sam found company for the night,” she started. Dean’s brow quirked in interest. “So I was hoping you’d be okay with me sleeping in the car?”

He stood straight, “Why would I let you sleep in the car?”

He opened the door further and gestured her inside. Her eyes looked past him into the room, finding it empty of anyone else, the bed still neatly made.

“I thought you had company,” she uttered.

Dean grinned and relaxed, “You sound jealous.”

She rolled her eyes hard, her head lolling with it, “Yeah, I’ll go find a park bench.”

She turned to leave, Dean stepping forward and grabbing her by the arm, “Don’t be an ass. Get in here.”

Y/N huffed a breath, heading inside the motel room, turning to face Dean as he closed and relocked the door. He looked her up and down, biting his lip and smirking once more. She looked ready to hit him.

“Relax,” he was the one to roll his eyes this time. “We’ve shared a bed before.”

“I know that, it’s not that. I know you went to the bar with Sam. Did you strike out or something?”

“Nah. No one really caught my eye. Wasn’t my night,” he shrugged. “Kinda proud of Sammy though.”

Y/N snorted a laugh, the tension suddenly gone. “You mind if I take a quick shower?”

“Go for it,” he threw back, focusing his attention on cleaning up the small table.

The sound of the bathroom door closing had him turning his gaze toward its surface, staring hard. As if his eyes could see through the door or he could somehow compel her to come back into his line of sight. He took in a deep breath and let it out in a huff.

He rubbed at the Mark on his forearm trying to ease away the burning ache of it. The Mark constantly pulsed and flowed, reminding him of its presence.

Except when Y/N was around.

Just being around her made it grow quieter, the pulsing ebbing away to nothing. She calmed and relaxed him. They were friends and hunting buddies. But since he’d gotten the Mark, she’d grown to mean so much more to him.

It was harder and harder to hide it, the playful flirtations and occasional bed sharing both feeding and teasing him. He refused to give in, to risk ruining one of his most treasured friendships. Especially since she’d never shown interest in him beyond what they already had. The risk was too great.

Dean laid back on the bed, flipping through the channels, not really paying much attention. He was biding time, keeping himself occupied while he waited for Y/N to return. The Mark nagged at him once more and he rubbed it in a vain attempt to soothe the deep ache.

Y/N emerged from the bathroom, the steam billowing out behind her. She was dressed in a t-shirt and sleep shorts - her go-to he realized - her bare thighs drawing his attention. She tossed her towel aside after shaking out her hair, casually crawling on the bed to prop herself next to Dean.

“What’re we watching?”

“Nothing on,” he groaned, leaving the TV on some action movie and tossinng the remote to the bed. She immediately reached for it and he smirked as she laid back and got comfortable, flipping through the channels herself before stopping back on the same action flick from before.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed, setting the remote on the nightstand.

Her eye caught Dean rubbing at the Mark. It made her nervous. She hated that damn Mark and what it was doing to Dean. What he was becoming. It terrified her. She stuck around for Dean, her friend and hunting buddy. Not for reasons that she wouldn’t even admit to herself. Especially not now, not when Dean was suffering and fighting with all he had. The last thing he needed was her throwing feelings at him. He needed her friendship and she valued it.

She glanced up to see Dean already looking at her. Her breath caught in her throat, the tension thick. She wanted so badly to soothe his worry and ache, to love him and show him how love could heal. But she was petrified of showing it, admitting it to anyone. In that moment, she wasn't sure what possessed her, other than a need to soothe him - and maybe herself. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his.

He was surprised at first, but quickly melted into it, tilting his head and responding eagerly. She hummed, licking across his lips, making him groan as he opened to her questing tongue. His hands slid down her sides to her hips, pulling her into his lap, allowing him to bring her close and deepen the kiss further.

She whined against his lips, her fingers working quickly to shed his shirt. Her hands roamed down his chest and stomach as she rolled her hips needily against his own, her desperation growing with each touch. She quickly removed her own shirt, pressing herself back against him and gasping against his lips at the contact.

Dean wanted to stop, to ask her what had suddenly made her want him the way he'd been wanting her for so long. But he was selfish. He wanted her so bad, the Mark all but forgotten as her attention rained down on him. He knew she could never want him, especially when he was tainted with the Mark. Even though it would break his heart to only be the once, he needed it and would take whatever she would give him. He could have that at least.

Feeling her roll back into him made Dean groan longingly, crashing again with Y/N's lips to keep himself from being too loud. He quickly worked to remove Y/N's clothes, then his own, before hastily tugging her back down to him with a small chuckle.

“Fuck,” he bit his lip, “You are so fucking hot, ya know that?”

“Have you seen you?” she laughed, rubbing her wet folds against his length and loving the sounds he made.

Amidst the awkwardness, the tension and unspoken feelings, they still managed to laugh. To be the friends they had always been, and that gave them both comfort.

She shifted her hips, sinking down on his length until there was no more to take. She let out a sigh at feeling so full and connected to him.

Dean mouthed a curse, eyes rolling back and fluttering closed as her tight walls sunk around him, tightening as they adjusted to him. He breathed out shakily across Y/N's lips as they ghosted each other, his arms slowly moving to grip on the back of her shoulders, pushing her down onto him.

With a small grunt, he thrust his hips up, forcing Y/N to bounce on his lap as he leaned back against the headboard, slowly thrusting with pinpoint precision. She whined and gasped, her arms wrapped tighter around his shoulders as she held him close, her body moving in sync with his.

It wasn’t long before Dean’s pace quickened to borderline brutal. With a long groan, he buried his face into the crook of Y/N's neck, groaning across her skin before sucking a deep red mark.

As each of his thrusts grew desperately in pace, he growled, hungrily devouring Y/N's lips. He released one of her shoulders, his free hand snaking between them to find her clit.

“I’m so close,” Dean breathed across her mouth, right as he started to rub fast, small circles on the sensitive nub, “Cum with me, cum on my fucking cock, Baby.”

She tried to speak, but a guttural moan was ripped from her lips as she came hard, her eyes squeezed shut and clinging to him, leaving small nail indents in his shoulders as she shook with the force of it in his arms.

Dean kept up his pace as he rode her through her high, his eyes locked and watching her completely blissed out. With a sudden and harsh thrust, he groaned out obscenely, pushing Y/N down onto him as he panted with each spurt of hot cum that shot deep into her belly.

She shook with another small orgasm at feeling his cum shoot within her. She whined and panted as she came down, her head dropped to his shoulder. She grimaced slightly as she felt his seed dripping out around his cock and a brief panic flared in her mind.

Dean’s eyes slowly fluttered open as he panted for breath, the same flash of panic suddenly flooding them too for a moment. When her head dropped to his shoulder, his arms tightened around her - a hell of a lot more gently now - he sighed out and enjoyed the feel of her.

"You okay?" he mumbled as she shook lightly in his arms, her breath fanning over his shoulder.

"Yeah," she sighed back, before yawning. "Tired though," she chuckled.

He inhaled a sharp and shaky breath as he withdrew from her core, laying her beside him and planting soft pecks along her collarbone as he hummed in agreement. He knew they needed to talk, but decided that was tomorrow's problem. With a hand draped across her waist, Dean slowly let himself drift to sleep.

"When I woke up, she was gone. Only the note was left," Dean spoke, recalling that last night with Y/N, making the hurt fresh all over again.

D-

I'm so sorry.

Please forgive me.

-Y/N

He'd reread the note again and again, the words forever etched into his brain. Sam didn't know that he still had it, tucked away in his trunk of possessions. Every once in a while, he'd take out the note, straightening the ruffled edges and studying the ink from her jotted words.

Sam remembered her cryptic note, Dean not providing much information until now. Y/N and Dean were practically best friends and Sam was sure they'd end up together eventually. He was glad they did, but couldn't figure out why Y/N would run. If anything, he thought Dean would have been the one to turn from intimacy, but Y/N?

"Maybe she was worried about the Mark," Sam offered hesitantly, swallowing hard as Dean squeezed the steering wheel a little tighter. "She doesn't know it's gone. Maybe we could look for her again?"

"Just let it go, Sam," Dean pleaded. "It's been more than a year. If she wanted to be found, we would have heard from her."

"Yeah, but, Dean-"

"Let's just focus on Amara, okay?"

"Ooh! We should stop for lunch at this little town up ahead!" Mary chimed excitedly from the backseat of the Impala.

"That sounds good," Sam agreed, looking over his shoulder at his mother with a smile before turning his attention to Dean at the wheel.

Dean rolled his eyes and groaned, but when both Mary and Sam pleaded, he gave in. He knew he would anyway. He'd do anything for his family.

After helping Amara and Chuck reconcile - and avoiding yet another apocalyptic event - Amara had granted Dean a gift, returning his mother to their lives. He was over-the-moon, but Mary needed time to adjust. He tried to understand, to give her space, and in the end she decided to stay and hunt with her sons.

Dean parked at the small town diner - the same sort of small establishment they frequented all over the country. Dean followed behind as his mother and brother chatted and laughed, finding a booth. He slid in beside his mother, smirking as he listened to the pair animatedly talk with one another.

Over the din, Dean's ears tickled with a familiar sound - a voice. He focused his ears on the sound, hearing two women speaking. Curious, he slightly turned his head, glancing over his shoulder. A waitress stood at the register, handing over a bag to a female customer. As the customer turned, ready to leave, Dean saw her face and his world came to a screeching halt.

She walked out the door and he could only snap his head around, peering out the large front windows of the diner as the woman entered her car.

"Y/N," he breathed out, unaware of his brother questioning him.

Sam's eyes followed Dean's gaze, the whisper of Y/N's name more than confusing him. But as he turned he saw her, clear as day. As she climbed in the car, she looked up, her eyes meeting Sam's and then Dean's through the windows. Just like Dean, she froze.

Sam scooted off the seat, ready to go out and talk to her, but as soon as he rose, she was pulling her car out of the parking spot and away from the diner, the tires squealing slightly in her haste. Immediately, Sam pulled out his phone, using their connected apps and information to look up the license plates.

Looking across the table, he could see that his brother was hurting and his mother was more than curious. Sam, however, was determined.

Y/N took off a little faster than she should have, the tires screeching as she made the turn out of the parking lot. That was Sam and Dean Winchester, she was certain of it! Two years and not a peep, then all of a sudden they're in her town? She panicked, her only thought was that she had to get away. She couldn't face Dean - not then, and not now.

As she raced towards home, she couldn't help but think back on that last night with Dean. He had been exhausted and in turmoil since getting that damn Mark on his arm. She was worried for him in ways that made her insides twist into knots. They were friends, yes, but she had made the biggest mistake - she had fallen in love with him.

She knew better, but it was out of her control, falling for him was as easy as breathing. She also knew Dean would have every reason to reject her, and she didn't want to risk being rejected. So she kept quiet. But seeing him that night, something sparked within her. She wanted to give him comfort, peace, love, if only for a moment.

After, she lie awake with Dean's arm draped over her waist, the sweat still cooling on her skin, her pulse returning to normal. Then the panic set in.

What if it was a one-time thing? She couldn't hide how she felt for him after that. She couldn't bear to see him walk away either. On top of all of that, he had the Mark and it was changing him. She was slowly growing terrified of it, and of him.

So she made the decision to leave in the middle of the night, carefully sneaking out of bed as Dean snored, sleeping more peacefully than she'd ever seen him. She quickly and quietly dressed, gathering her bag and sneaking out of the room.

As she pulled into her garage, she shut off the car, watching as the garage door closed behind her. It wouldn't take Sam more than an hour to find her, track her plates, drive around looking for her car. She could run again, she supposed. Her eyes flicked to the backseat and she sighed.

No more running.

Dean pulled up to the curb, throwing the car in park and eyeing up the house before him.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Sam asked.

"No," Dean sighed, leaving the car running but clibming out, shutting the door behind him. He stood on the sidewalk, hesitant to move forward.

What if she rejected him? She ran away for a reason. Maybe she wouldn't want to see him. He swallowed hard and forced his feet to move. He had to know why she left. Why they had such a beautiful moment together and she reipped it away. He thought their friendship would have been strong enough to survive anything.

"Dean, you don't have to do this. I can go talk to her if you want," Sam offered. He knew one of them had to talk to her, to find out why she took off, to make sure she was alright.

"Nah, I got this," Dean gave his brother a small smirk and a pat on the arm before making his way to the door.

Sam nodded, letting Dean walk up the path to the house. He climbed back in the car, giving his Mom a reassuring smile as they watched Dean and waited.

Y/N knew he was there before he ever knocked, having heard the tell-take sound of the Impala's engine rolling up outside. She was wrong. It took half anhour for Sam to track her down. She smiled despite the panic rearing its ugly head.

She took a deep breath and opened the door, just enough to situate herself in its opening. The mere sight of him took her breath away, as handsome as ever, his eyes filled with emotion.

"Hey, Y/N," he breathed out, his eyes taking in every little detail of her from head to toe, recommiting it to memory and noting the subtle changes.

"H-hey, Dean," she cursed at how her voice shook, her panic and fear still very present. She glanced at his covered arm and Dean followed her gaze.

He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the smooth skin. "I don't have the Mark anymore."

"How?" she asked, her eyes wide as she took a step towards him, her fingers running over the smooth skin.

Dean's breath hitched at her touch, her proximity making his heart race. "That's kind of a long story," he chuckled nervously.

She stepped back into the doorway, glancing over her shoulder into the house before looking back at him. She noticed the Impala idling out front, Sam and a woman waiting in the car.

"Do you - is there someone else here?" Dean asked even though he was terrified of her answer. "I can come back or…or just leave," he offered, swallowing hard.

Y/N's heart broke at his vulnerability and she sighed, opening the door wider and stepping aside to allow him in. She closed the door behind them, giving Dean a moment to look over the inside of her house. Basic furnishings and decorations throughout, but she she knew there was no way he'd miss the highchair in the corner of the kitchen or the toys littered about the small space. Or the tiny human in the playpen in the livingroom, cooing as they chewed on a teething ring.

"You have a baby?" Dean asked, his eyes stuck on the small child. She stepped around him, moving to the playpen and taking the child into her arms.

"We have a baby," she corrected him, waiting for his reaction.

The silence drug out as she watched Dean process the information, doing the math in his head, his eyes landing on the child once more.

"Why?" he asked, his voice cracking. She could see his hurt and anger clashing within him, his eyes welling with tears. "Why did you leave? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was scared," she admitted shamefully. "I was scared of the Mark and what it was doing to you. And I was scared of how I was falling for you, Dean," she forced the words out, feeling her own tears forming. "I was scared to love you and scared to tell you and scared of you," she admitted with a huff.

"You weren't the only one who was scared," Dean spoke after a drawn out silence between them. "You weren't the only one falling and scared, Y/N."

She didn't know how to respond to his statement, her need to run and avoid still thrumming within her.

"Do you want to hold your daughter, Dean?" she asked with a smile. Dean carefully but eagerly took her from Y/N's arms, cradling the child in his own. "Her name's Ava."

"Ava," Dean whispered reverently, his eyes locked on the tiny features of his daughter. His daughter. It felt like a djinn dream. He'd found Y/N and she was alive and well and had their child. Having his Mom back had made Dean happier than he ever thought possible. But this moment right here, this was the greatest single moment of his life. Earmarked as a whole new level of happy washed over him. Until a disturbing thought occured to him.

"Is there a boyfriend or something I need to worry about?" he asked. "Some other father figure in her life?"

"No," Y/N sighed, running her fingers over her daughter head. "There could never be anyone after you, Dean."

He'd definitely address that later. He moved to the couch, gingerly sitting down and being delicate with Ava. He pulled out his phone to send a text, then she heard the Impala driving away. They spent the evening doting Ava with attention, the two of them sharing their lives over their time apart.

Dean participated in every aspect of Ava's nightly routine, helping to bathe her and put her to bed. With every second he was with the two of them his heart swelled further. There was no way he could be apart from them now.

"Come home with me?" Dean asked as they sat in the living room again.

"What?"

"You and Ava, you can move into the Bunker. There's plenty of space and it's warded so it's safe. And we'd have Sam and Mom and Cas to help out."

"Dean-"

"I don't have the Mark anymore, and my feelings haven't changed," he took a chance, scooting closer to her on the couch and cupping her cheek with one hand. "I have missed you every day. I've wondered again and again what I could have done differently. Now that I've found you both I don't ever want to be without you again."

The intensity in his eyes, the warmth from his touch, his familiar smell swirling around her, his heartfelt words that plucked every heartstring made the tears she'd been holding back fall. Once the dam was broken, she couldn't stop the sobs from taking over.

Dean shushed her, his hand moving to the back of her head as he tucked her face into the crook of his neck, soothing her the best he could. His own tears fell as he held her, the pain of the past falling away with each shed tear.

"I'm so sorry," she finally spoke, pulling back to meet his eyes and let him know she truly meant it. "I was scared but I never wanted to hurt you. I'm so sorry, Dean."

He wiped her tears with his thumbs, cupping her face and gently pressing his lips to hers in a chaste kiss.

"It's okay," he insisted. "We're here now, right?"

She nodded and he kissed her again. This time she responded eagerly, so grateful for his forgiveness, for his love, for him. She had so very much missed her Dean.

She panted for breath between kisses, her heart thudding loudly in her chest as goosebumps rose on her skin. She tried to push herself impossibly closer, hooking her arms under his and clutching the back of his shirt.

He pulled her tightly against him as he kissed her passionately, pouring himself into it, his hands tangling in her hair as he held her to him. The taste and feel of her was better than he remembered, sending sparks through his entire being. He needed to connect with her again.

In a seamless maneuver, he lifted her by the hips to straddle his lap, then stood and walked to her bedroom, setting her back on her feet once the door was closed behind them. He paused, taking a moment to appreciate her in front of him and in his arms once more.

The fear began to creep back in, making him doubt if he should take the chance again. He didn't think he could survive it if she left again or asked him to go. She said she had fallen for him back then, but did she still feel that way? He did, he said as much, but did she?

She cupped his cheek, instinctually knowing what was going through his mind just then. Afterall, the had been close friends for years and that intuation doesn't just go away. The connection they had seemed to flare back up between them as if they'd never been apart.

"I want you," she reassured him, kissing him sweetly and meeting his eyes once more. "I love you, Dean, and I want you."

A distinct whine could be heard passing his lips as he crashed them into hers once more, hungrily devouring her mouth as his hands clutched and pulled at her clothes. Walking her back toward the bed, his lips trailed down her neck, nipping and sucking marks along the way.

He pulled back long enough to remove her shirt before attacking her mouth once more, the force of his kisses sending her falling back onto the bed. His lips never left her as he followed her down, pressing the length of his body against her.

His hands worked quickly, removing her bra as his lips moved over her collarbone and down to her breasts, leaving a wet trail to cool in the air. Reaching her nipple, he sucked and licked with the tip of his tongue as one hand moved to massage the neglected breast. His other hand trailed down her stomach and flicked open the button of her jeans.

He groaned, getting lost in the feel and taste of her, his ears rang with the sweet little sounds that fell from her parted lips.

He switched breasts suddenly, his mouth worked her into a frenzy as he removed the rest of her clothing. He paused to look over her now bare body, taking in every detail. She cupped his cheek, leaning up to kiss kim. He returned it, but pulled back before it could go too far. Instead, he kissed down her stomach -ignoring her whines of protest- and settled between her legs.

Her head rolled back, a shout falling from her lips at the sudden feel of his mouth and tongue sinfully devouring her pussy. She looked down at him, his eyes closed as he held her firmly in place and savored her flavor. He was still fully clothed and something about the contrast turned her on even more.

Dean proceeded to lick, nip, suck, and kiss every line, crease, and fold, grunting and moaning with her flavor. Bringing a finger to her entrance he slid in slowly, feeling her tight, wet warmth accept him greedily. He hummed in satisfaction, the vibrations causing her hips to jerk involuntarily. As her walls relaxed, he added a second finger finding her sweet spot in a matter of seconds.

He thrust his hand fast and with a final harsh flick of his tongue against her clit she came, screaming loudly. Her walls clenched around his fingers, thighs trembling and chest heaving. He pumped his fingers harder, sucking on her clit and riding her through her orgasm, taking every ounce of it for himself greedily.

As she lay recovering, her body shaking from the force of her climax, he climbed from the bed, quickly removing his clothes and covering her body with his before she even had time to miss his warmth.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he breathed out, his heart beating hard in his chest at seeing the bliss swimming in her eyes.

Wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his lips to hers, she wrapped her legs around his hips, attempting to pull him as close as possible to her. Every hair on her body was standing on end and every inch of skin pined for his touch. Breathing heavily, her eyes flooded with need, she looked deep into his eyes.

“Please, Dean-” she whined, pressing her chest against his, “-I need you.”

"I need you too, so much," he swore, rutting his length against her wet folds, teasing them both and slicking himself up. Holding her gaze he slowly entered her core, both of them gasping at the slick slide.

As he bottomed out, she could feel herself fluttering around him, her walls relaxing for the exquisite stretch of his cock. Her hands clutched at his back, her thighs squeezing his hips. He places tender kisses along her skin as she adjusted, the shift of her hips and delicious moan letting him know she was ready.

She expected he might be hard and fast, but what she got was another side to Dean entirely. He slowly withdrew, every inch of him dragging against her walls, pushing back in at the same slow pace. He watched her face, kissing her sweetly, enjoying her.

He felt so good, so warm and solid and real, stretching her deliciously, his sweaty skin gliding against hers as the heat between them amped up. The slower pace had her mind focusing and feeling every spot in which they were connected. From his hands on her sides and hips, to his lips all over her face and neck, to her thigh against his hip. She was surrounded in all things Dean, all of him touching and loving all of her.

"Dean." She felt on the verge of tears, her heart swelling with her emotions, the tender look in his glistening eyes saying more than words ever could.

"I know, Baby," he kissed her deeply, lifting her leg higher against his side and increasing his pace slightly.

Dean had never experienced sex like this before, with an intensity and purpose far beyond just getting off. He wanted to feel her, to savor every inch of her, to enjoy the climb to the summit with her. Every move, every sound she made had him moaning and biting his lip, using all his self-control to maintain his gentler pace.

When she tilted her hips, her thighs clenching around him, he immediately hit her sweet spot, making her gasp and clutch him tighter. He slowed even further, his arms under her shoulders holding her close as he smirked down at her.

"Right there, Baby?" he asked, thrusting his hips just enough that the spongey head of his dick hit her sensitive g-spot.

She threw her head back into the pillow, a guttural moan ripped deep from her chest. He took the opening, lowering his mouth to suck a mark on her exposed throat. Rolling his hips with deep fluid strokes, he felt her walls ripple as she grew closer and closer to her peak.

“I’m gonna make you cum so hard,” he promised, nipping at her ear lobe.

The moans fell from her lips with no control. It was a good thing he was holding onto to her so tightly, she felt like she might explode into a million pieces if he wasn't grounding her.

“Come for me, Baby. I wanna feel it,” he whispered in her ear, his breath panting in short bursts, his cock twitching inside her as he neared his own release.

Her eyes clenched shut, her breath held as his words pushed her dangerously to the edge. She tried to hold it back as long as she could, wanting to feel him just like this for as long as possible, but his relentless pounding made her efforts short-lived. Feeling him twitch inside her, hearing his grunts and hushed curses, her orgasm ripped through her entire being.

He struggled to keep his eyes open, watching her face as she climaxed in a beautiful explosion. His brow furrowed, his mouth hung open as she pulled him over the edge with her. He choked on a sound as his face fell to the crook of her neck, his hips pumping lazily until slowing to a stop. His body shook against hers before he slowly pulled from her, wincing at the effort.

Moving to lay beside her, he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to lay on her side facing him. Leaning in, he captured her lips again, completely drunk on her. Turning to his back, he tucked her into his side, her arm draped across his middle.

I’m exhausted,” she giggled, “You’re amazing.”

He laughed, the post-coital bliss making his head spin. He wished it could always be like this. It didn't take her long to fall asleep, but Dean was hesitant to relax. He was terrified he'd wake up to find her gone again, or worse, that it was all a dream. Emotional and physical exhaustion won out in the end, so he gave in to the need to sleep, his arms still holding her close.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath as he suddenly came to consciousness. Wiping the sleep from his eyes he sat up a little, forcing his vision to focus. A bit of panic flared up in him, not immediately recognizing the room. Then he remember last night. Looking to the other side of the bed, it was empty, the sheets cool. The panic flared up again, wondering if she had left him like before.

He hastily dressed, donning his flannel after an unsuccessful attempt to find his t-shirt. After a quick trip to the bathroom, Dean made his way down the hall, peering into Ava's room and finding her gone as well. A sinking feeling landed in his stomach, twisting painfully.

The sound of familiar voices drew him through the house to the dining room. Ava was sat in her highchair, Sam and Mary sat either side of her, doting the small child with all of their attention and affection. His eyes drifted into the connected kitchen, seeing Y/N sipping on her coffee as she cooked breakfast.

Clearing his throat to annouce himself, Dean made his way to his mother first, leaning down and squeezing her shoulders as he placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"Mornin', Mom," he smiled, before moving on to Ava to do the same. "Mornin', Precious." He simply gave Sam an acknowledging nod and his brother returned the gesture. With a deep breath, he made his way into the kitchen.

Now that his panic had subsided, he felt like a guilt fool. He couldn't help but think she'd left him again. He poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, eyeing Y/N from head to toe.

"That's why I couldn't find my t-shirt," he smirked, seeing her wearing said clothing with a pair of shorts.

She blushed and finished cooking, turning everything off and putting it on plates to table to the table. As Dean looked over the dining table, everyone he cared about most together and alive in once place. It was something he could definitely get used to.

"So, are you and Ava coming back to the Bunker with us?" Mary asked as they all dug into the food.

"Oh, she's coming back!" Sam argued, "Even if I have to hogtie her and throw her in the backseat."

"Sam!" Mary chastized.

"He's not the only one she left," Sam accused, pointing at Y/N.

"Sam," Y/N was heartbroken. Her and Sam had been close friends as well and in the midst of everything with Dean, she honestly hadn't thought about how it might affect him too. "I'm so sorry. I was afraid, of a lot of things. But I am coming back. Ava and I are coming home."

She knew it would take time for them to fully forgive her and trust her again. She was willing to put in the work, to be patient and understanding. It wasn't their fault this mess happened. This time, it was all on her, and she intended to fix it come hell or high water.

"Good," Sam nodded, casually digging back into his breakfast. "You hurt him again and I'm coming for you."

Even though he flashed her a playful grin, she knew he wasn't entirely joking. She nodded and smiled, letting him know she understood. She had no intentions of leaving ever again. She'd found her family. Or rather, they'd found her. Seeing everyone together, she wondered why she was ever afraid to begin with.

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#afraid to love #spndeanbingo #dean winchester #dean x f!reader #dean x reader #reader insert #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #smut

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sky-bunnyyy · 8 months

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CG! Dean Winchester Moodboard

#sfw agere #dean winchester #cg!dean winchester #dean winchester agere #caregiver dean winchester #dean winchester x little! reader #agere blog #sfw regression #little reader #spn agere #agere moodboard #f/o agere

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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 3 months

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Crazy, Stupid, Love

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: When Dean has to work at a café to learn infos on a hunt, he thinks it's the worst. Until he meets her. At first, she's only kind of an annoying coworker. But an unfortunate event brings them closer, and Dean starts feeling things for her. If it's love, he doesn't know. But for the first time, he starts wondering how it would feel to have a normal life. A normal job. And a normal relationship. But first, he needs to get her revenge against that shitty boss.

Note: this happens in the begining of season one

Word Count: 9k

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Content Warning: Toxic work place, rude customer, humiliation, bullying, swearing

Squares: Humiliation for @hurtcomfort-bingo,/ Revenge for @jacklesversebingo

A/n: I'm gonna be honest, at first, I didn't want to post this fic. When I saw the attention the last few fics I took so much time to write got, it made me sad... But then I remembered how much fun I had with this one, so decided to post it in case someone else has the same fun reading it. ALSO! This was for @eevvvaa writing challenge! I picked the movie Crazy Stupid Love but actually used the quotes! They will be in bold in the text. Happy reading!

Usually, this situation would have upset him. After all, he was stuck here 8 hours per day, 5 days per week and always finished too late to go to the nearest bar afterwards. It also wasn’t the best first real job to have, as it was lame, boring, and always the same thing. But working at a café also had its advantages.

Like the beautiful barista that he had the chance to see on his first day. She was leaving, as she was only working mornings, and he was working evenings, but Dean couldn’t detach his eyes from her. Beautiful body, hair immaculate even after 8 hours of wearing a net, skin tanned to perfection.

“Oh great, another one.”

That wasn’t the girl he was talking about. No, the girl that just spoke was Y/n. At first glance, she looked like the manager. With the most seniority in here, she knew how things were done and how to do them quickly. But she was no boss. To make her agree to be his trainer and show him the basics, the real boss had to insist a lot. He didn’t know all the details, though, but she ended up accepting.

It was for a hunt. Otherwise, Dean would never be here. Sam said there was something weird in the neighborhood, and that the best way to discover what was going on was to talk with the community. And the best place to have conversations with people that didn’t want to talk with the police was of course at the local café. All the rumors and crispy details of the town were floating in there. The reason why it wasn’t Sam doing the whole barista thing was as simple as upsetting.

“Dean, you have all the charm. People- ladies- will open up to you like blooming flowers in the spring.”

Ugh.

Back to the present, Dean ignored Y/n’s comment and tilted his head to the side, still eyeing the morning employee that was leaving. “What do I have to do to get on the morning shift?”

A groan of annoyance resonated behind him. His smile fell. He was stuck with her for a while, as they were both working evening shifts.

Alone together.

There were 60 seconds in one minute. And 60 minutes in one hour. A shift lasted 8 hours here. That was way too many seconds to spend doing nothing but wait to leave.

All that was in his head was the hot chick he kept seeing since he started working here. After only bumping into her these past 2 weeks, Dean finally decided to ask her on a date. And since he was Dean Winchester, no one could tell him no. And the same day, after his shift, he would meet her in front of the pizza place that was two blocks away.

And he couldn’t stop looking at the clock, head in his hand, hoping that staring at it would make the time go faster.

“I asked for a hot caramel latte with almond milk and no foam, what the hell is this?!”

It was near the end. In 15 minutes, the shop would be closed and then it was cleaning time. Weeping the floor, throwing away the remaining food that was not sold, washing the dishes, etc. That was always his favorite part, because even if Y/n was a pain in the ass as his supervisor, she was chill and allowed him to choose the radio station while they cleaned and he could leave once his part was done.

At first, the voice didn’t alert him, and Dean kept on making himself busy with cleaning tables that didn’t need it. But then, something broke, the sound heavy of meaning, and he was on alert. Every fiber of his body was on and he turned to the source of the sound.

Right at the counter, there was a man with his back to him. Without seeing his face, Dean knew he was angry. Pissed, even. At his feet, a broken cup, porcelain in pieces covered the floor soaked in coffee. Two steps allowed Dean to know what the man was looking at, and when he saw her…

He immediately rushed without thinking.

“I’m gonna ask you to leave, sir,” Dean put his hand on the customer’s shoulder, which made him jump. The man turned to him and aggressively stepped back.

“Don’t touch me,” the man hissed. “You’re working here, huh?” He looked up and down at Dean, noticing the apron of the café he was wearing. “Must be the manager here. Well, your employee here is worthless, you should be careful who you hire, for fuck sake!”

At that, Dean couldn’t help but wince. That was unnecessary rude to say. He glanced at Y/n again and felt his heartbeat with pain. Her head was down, probably to hide tears. That was probably not the first time she had to serve asshole customers, but it was the first time Dean noticed it. Working in customer service was not easy at all, you had to be strong to endure all of that everyday.

He only knew Y/n for about two weeks, but he already knew a lot about her. She was calm. Kind. She cared about doing her job right. Yeah, she was a bit bossy and used every opportunity to send subtle little insults towards Dean just enough to annoy him, like how he couldn’t even do a coffee, in this economy? But it was never mean and he liked that side of her that didn’t let people step on her toes. But right now, in front of that man? She was small. She wanted to hide. It wasn’t the Y/n he knew.

“I’m not the boss,” Dean answered finally, placing his gaze back on the man. “But we’re closed, so I’m gonna ask you to leave.”

The rude customer was the last one in the café, so it wasn’t like he was breaking any rules. And he was Dean Winchester. He made the rules.

Red seemed to eat at the man’s face so much he was angry. “Not before I get what I fucking paid for!” He started yelling. Dean didn’t mind being screamed at, he was used to it with his dad, how sad it sounded. But when the man turned to Y/n to yell at her, Dean couldn’t hold himself back. “You useless cunt!”

“I said, out!” Dean grabbed the customer by the neck and quickly sent him backwards. His legs met the table right behind him, but it wasn’t enough to make him understand. The man lunged forward in an attempt to hit Dean, but he didn’t know.

Dean was waiting for it.

The fist missed, and the man stumbled into the void and collapsed on the floor like a clown.

“This isn’t over,” the man growled and got up. Sure he would strike again, Dean was ready to fight. But this time, the fist didn’t miss. The pain came later, a few seconds after the hunter realized he got hit in the face. Fortunately for his ego, Dean managed to stay on his feet and not fall pathetically on the floor.

He reached for the wound.

It was right near his left eye, it would bruise for sure.

With deadly flames in his green eyes, he looked at his target.

“Oh, you’re dead.”

The rest happened quickly.

Dean decided he wouldn’t hold back anymore. As his head throbbed with ache and anger, he was about to hit with everything he got. But at the last moment, something interrupted him. A body, warm, soft, encircling his own, stopped him from moving.

“Please stop…”

Her voice woke him up completely. Shaking, she put herself between the two men to stop the fight even if she was scared.

The man took the opportunity to run away, the bell chiming behind him as the door closed violently.

A long silence followed the departure of the aggressive customer. A couple of seconds passed, then minutes, before she realized there was no silence actually. Things were happening around her, words were spoken, and the only person besides her was running around locking doors and closing blinds, cursing every word he could think of at the moment.

Her hearing was nothing but a shrill sound, almost painful, like she was deaf. It took another minute and him calling her name for her to come back to the present.

"You okay? He didn't hurt you?" Dean was kneeling in front of her. She finally noticed she was sitting down on a chair. Shaking her head, she tapped her hands in her face to finish waking herself up from her slumber.

"You're hurt and you ask me if I'm okay?" She stood up as she spoke, Dean doing the same. Then she seemed to disappear in the backstore to come back with a bag of frozen vegetables they used for the soup. "Sit down," she instructed.

Dean would have been impressed by her capacity to focus after such an event, especially with how she was a couple of seconds ago, but he knew better. She wouldn't meet his gaze, her head was down, and when he glanced at her hands, it was to see them shake.

"Y/n-"

"Oh, come on, sit down, your masculinity won't suffer too much, I just want to check," she rolled her eyes and almost pushed him to the chair. Dean let himself be moved around with a smirk. That was the Y/n he knew. "There, it's not that bad, huh?"

"It's no big deal," he tried to convince her, after all, as a hunter, he got hurt more than once before and healed perfectly fine. But when he saw her, he understood. And he let himself be checked by her only for her. To reassure her it was nothing, it was fine, it would bruise into a black eye and nothing else.

"Okay, it's not that bad," she sighed in relief as she said that.

"Told you," Dean snickered with a smile. "Ouch!"

The frozen bag was now on his bruise and Y/n was turning her back to him. His first instinct was to ask her if she was okay, check on her, after all, she seemed pretty shaken up, but he knew she needed time, that was all.

"We should call the police," Dean ended up saying. Usually, he would never propose that, but the customer was human. A monster in some sort, but completely human, so the police could take care of it.

"No!" She turned harshly towards Dean, surprising him.

"Why not?"

Pacing back and forth, Y/n seemed to get lost in her thoughts. "It's not necessary, I doubt the customer will come back, and it would put the cafe in a bad spot, we would lose customers and…"

Again, Dean knew. Y/n was a good employee, she loved doing her job right, but she hated the place, hated the menu and the disgusting coffee served here, and hated the management. But they were the ones giving her her salary at the end of the month, so she couldn't disappoint them.

"I can deal with the boss," Dean said, standing up, the bag still on his eye.

In front of him, Y/n sadly shook her head. "It won't be necessary." She pointed at one corner of the cafe. Then another. "There's cameras around, and he loves to watch. Loves to tell us everything we do wrong. He probably already knows it happened. We'll see tomorrow, I guess," she sighed. Then, like a thought crossed through her head, she lifted her head completely and crossed gaze with Dean. "Your date! You're gonna be late!"

Dean wanted to laugh. So badly. Of course, he talked to her about it. Kristina, their coworker from the morning shift and Dean's date, was waiting for him. But after what happened, it completely got out of his head. Smiling, he shook his head and placed the bag of defrosting vegetables on the table beside him.

"I'll call her, say something came up. She'll understand."

Y/n cringed, biting her lips and frowning. "I don't think she cares enough to understand. But you're cute and sexy so maybe she'll forgive your ass."

Immediately after saying those words, Y/n became a puddle of embarrassment. Her body flushed with the realization of what she just admitted.

"Really?" Dean would not let that go. "You think I'm the perfect combination of sexy and cute ?"

"Shut up," she murmured between her teeth, grabbing the nearest thing, the cloth he was using to clean the tables, to throw it at him. "Get out of here your shift is over."

"Yeah," Dean surprised himself by what he said next. "But I won't let you walk back home alone. Consider me your cute and sexy bodyguard," he laughed at her reaction, but it was nothing compared to the sound leaving his mouth when he received another cloth on the head. "Hey, this one was wet"

"Oops!"

The next day started pretty badly. After a complicated night with barely any sleep and lots of nightmares, Y/n got up early to get ready. Even if her shift started at 3pm, she knew the phone would ring and the ruthless voice of her boss would order her to come in to talk.

About what happened.

It was not even noon when it happened. She was at her third coffee, so she had energy even if she felt dead inside. Since she was already dressed, all she had to do was grab her stuff and head to the cafe. Like usual, she had to walk since she didn't have enough savings to buy a car.

The weather was quite nice, compared to how gloomy she was feeling. It was warm and sunny outside. Y/n barely made a step out, locking her door, that a loud engine startled her. The sun was reflecting strongly on the hood, blinding her as she walked with caution towards it, and for a moment she thought maybe it was the customer that found her and came to finish what he started. Fortunately she recognized the car quickly, as it was the same car that drove her home last night.

A 67 chevy impala.

It was even more beautiful than when she saw it yesterday.

The drive to the cafe was quiet, apart from the chichats. How are you? Do you feel better? So, did he call you too? Usually, Y/n would have commented on something random just to annoy Dean, but when he turned his head towards her at a red light to ask her a question, she saw the bruise around his eyes, reminding her of the night before and how everything was her fault. If only she hadn't messed up the order…

Once parked in front of the cafe, Dean stopped the engine to turn to Y/n. "Hey," he said in a calm and steady voice. "Whatever happens there, it was neither our fault."

"I appreciate it, Dean, but it was. I was in charge, even though I told the boss more than once that I didn't want to be, so what happens on my shift is my fault." Without leaving him time to answer, she opened the door and left the car to enter the cafe.

The moment she stepped inside, a loud silence echoed around her. Every employee stopped chatting to stare at her, the customers mimicking their actions, wondering what was so much more interesting than getting their order right and fast.

Y/n hated that. The attention. The eyes on her. The silence. Her body started shaking, both with anger and humiliation, the tears almost painful to hold back. But then, as she was about to step towards the boss' office, a warmth settled on her shoulder, stopping the tremors at once. And a voice she was starting to grow fond of whispered near her ear.

"Ignore them. They don't matter right now."

With Dean, she felt safe. Strong. Like she could do everything and never feel afraid anymore. That was until they were sitting in the office in front of the boss.

“Y/n, I am wildly disappointed with you. What you did was beyond unprofessional, and I can’t believe I have to do this. You’re suspended.”

It was nothing less than what she expected from her boss. Since working there, she had done everything to stay in his good graces, sometimes doing other people's jobs to compensate. Everything to keep the restaurant clean and to continue serving fresh food every day. It wasn't Kristina who would write down expiration dates on perishable products, or place the new arrival of breads behind the ones already there to prevent the oldest ones from remaining at the bottom of the shelf, covered in mold. If this place passed the health inspection every year, it was thanks to Y/n’s efforts, efforts that no one had ever noticed or considered.

It was probably better that way.

Head bowed, Y/n took a harsh breath and opened her mouth to apologize and admit her boss was right. However, the words could not come out of her mouth fast enough, because someone else was already speaking.

“This is bullshit,” Dean exclaimed. A quick glance in his direction, and Y/n could see his hands forming fists on his thighs. “Y/n did everything perfectly, it’s not her fault if customers don’t respect anything, not even themselves!”

“Dean, I think you're new here,” the boss replied with a calmness that didn't mean anything good. Y/n tried to draw Dean's attention to her to signal him to shut up, that it was nothing, that she could survive a week suspended, but the young man paid her no mind. And one look at his face showed her the same anger she had seen in him the previous evening, when he had decided to defend himself against the customer. “I watched the surveillance cameras carefully. Your reactions with this client, although undoubtedly intended to be heroic, were completely unacceptable. The next time you make a mistake, you will suffer the same fate as Y/n. For now, take your day, see you on Monday, Dean.”

"That's all?!" This time, Dean stood up as he spoke. “Y/n gets suspended, and I only get a warning and a day off? What the f-”

“Thank you,” Y/n quickly cut him off, grabbing his arm firmly to silence him. Strangely, like the day before, her intervention seemed to calm Dean down very quickly. “See you next week.”

As she was about to leave, her hand still holding Dean's wrist to drag him out of the office, a voice called out to her.

"Two weeks. See you in two weeks.”

It took a lot of control for her to say nothing. The inside of her cheek hurt from how hard she bit it, dragging Dean out of the office and then out of the restaurant. It was only once outside, far from prying ears and vulture eyes, that she was finally able to breathe.

“FUCKING BULLSHIT! FUCK YOU!” Suddenly came out of her mouth. If Dean still had any anger at that moment, it suddenly vanished when he heard so many curses coming out with so much anger from the usually calm Y/n. “Oh. It feels better."

Having never seen her like this, it took several seconds for Dean to compose himself. Large green eyes were fixed on her, wide, shocked, even, until a good hit on the arm woke him up completely. "Ouch!" He rubbed his arm as if it hurt even though her fist had barely tickled him.

“What the fuck was that, seriously?! Talk to the boss like that? You’re born stupid or you’re just too dumb to think, fuck, Dean!”

Still as surprised and shocked, Dean didn't respond immediately. Y/n was angry. More, even. Beyond pissed. Which was completely normal under the circumstances, except Y/n wasn't normally angry. She could get upset, complain about the system, the management, the customers, or how she was the only one doing all the little things that made the café special and comfortable, but she was never angry.

“I couldn’t let him talk to you that way, I just couldn’t,” Dean explained calmly. It was quite rare for him to be the calm one in a heated argument. But in this case, he knew he had to keep his own rage to himself, she didn't need more anger. She needed to speak, to expel this emotion out of her like a demon that needed to be exorcized.

“Well, that was fucking stupid,” she pointed at him, her gaze meeting his. This surprised him again. Y/n was shy, although she was a good leader, and he noticed she had trouble looking people in the eye for several seconds. She always ended up looking away, and he knew it wasn't because she was dishonest, but rather that she was afraid of the judgment in the eyes of others. So that she was yelling at him while staring right at him… That surprised Dean again and made him speechless.

For a few seconds, he forgot that he was being told off by a girl for defending her, and lost himself in the contemplation of her magnificent orbs. Since he had known her, he had never really seen them, or bothered to look at them.

And her eyes were beautiful, even filled with anger.

Probably noticing the eye contact was getting considerably long, Y/n finally broke the almost trance-like effect to gaze elsewhere.

“Have you had it long?”

She was still not looking at him. "What?"

“The uncontrollable need to save the damsel in distress.” The corner of her lips lifted up in a smirk.

“I-” He couldn’t tell her that this was actually his life. Saving the woman and the orphan, killing the monsters, it was so ingrained in his life that it was part of him.

“Come on,” she muttered, still not meeting his gaze, gesturing to him to follow her.

"Come on… Where?" It was the longest conversation he'd had with her, and it was only because she was angry, he remembered. He was here for a hunt, he had to learn more about the people of the town. Concentration and focus were required, but yet... This side of Y/n, her confidence, how she wasn't afraid to yell at him like that, when she was normally so gentle...

He liked that side of her. Not that he disliked the rest, it was just-

“I think you have tonight off, and I, well, the next two weeks.” Starting to walk towards the impala, she then stopped and turned her head just enough to look over her shoulder at him. “I’m going to help you rediscover your manhood. Do you have any idea where you could have lost it?”

A big smile stretched Dean's lips. This was the Y/n he knew. “Probably over there,” he pointed to the horizon. “Near the pizzeria. You hungry?”

The pizza was the most delicious thing that had passed Y/n's lips in a long time. Very greasy and dripping with cheese, the junk food was simply good after such a catastrophic day. And sharing this moment with his colleague, accomplice, even, and perhaps friend- if he wanted to- was the icing on the cake.

Her heart always beat a beat and a half faster when he was near her. And although she tried not to like him, not to get attached to what was clearly a bad boy who preferred girls like Kristina, who just hung out with her because he had free time… She simply couldn't deny it anymore. What her heart desired was starting to win over what reason screamed at her.

Don't fall in love.

And yet, as that evening at the pizzeria after her suspension turned into an almost daily routine, her heart prevailed. The crush she immediately had for the young man with emerald eyes and cheeks covered in a milky way of little freckles was slowly transforming into something deeper.

A week had passed since her suspension, it was Saturday again, and as usual, Y/n and Dean found themselves at the pizzeria. The owner himself now came to take their order, even though he already knew what the two wanted since they always ordered the same thing. Everything was going exactly as usual, Dean recounting his day at work, how slowly everything was going downhill without her.

“I worked with a new guy, and son of a bitch, I’ve never seen someone take their time so much. It’s like he did it on purpose,” Dean sipped his drink. Y/n’s gaze followed the movement of the Adam’s apple rising and falling as he swallowed. She was barely concentrating on what he was saying. “We had two complaints that the sandwich bread had mold, but the person in the kitchen didn't get in trouble for it. It’s like the boss knows that no matter the wait time, the quality of the food, or the attitude of the employees, the cafe will always make money since it’s the only one in town,” Dean let out a little laugh which only spread the butterflies in Y/n’s stomach. “Let me tell you that over the past week, some regulars have stopped coming. Oh, and many have asked where you’ve been.”

“It’s not surprising,” she finally answered after a few seconds of silence where only the chewing of Dean devouring his pizza could be heard. On the table, near the windows, the dessert was already there, two slices of pie that the owner had reserved for them knowing they were coming. Her gaze fell on the dessert as she spoke although she really wanted to look him in the eyes. Admiring the perfect color of his orbs, admiring how everything was perfect about him. It was so difficult. “What’s surprising is that the health inspection hasn’t closed this place yet.”

These words hung in the air for a moment, accompanied by silence. Finally glancing over at Dean, she found that he had stopped eating mid-bite, staring blankly at her. It was almost as if Y/n could see the gears moving in his mind.

“Yet.” That was all he said next, taking the time to finish his bite before continuing. "I have an idea."

“I could figure that much,” she laughed as she took her drink, anything to occupy her hands and look normal in his presence. Luckily he couldn't hear her heart thumping against her ribcage.

“We're going to avenge you,” he pointed ahead, at her, and that was enough for her eyes to move from his finger to his eyes. She managed to hold his gaze for several long seconds which seemed to her like hours of torture. "You'll see."

"See what? Oh, how cute,” a voice broke the bubble Y/n and Dean were in. She hadn't heard that voice in a week, and it had been the best thing her suspension had given her, except for all the time she'd spent with Dean since.

“Kristina,” Y/n muttered under her breath, her eyes immediately going to her pizza. A weight seemed to settle on her chest, pressing down hard with its gigantic pressure.

“Hey,” Dean greeted her, and the pressure thumped harder against her heart. “How you doing, Kristina?”

His tone was kind. Friendly. Sweet. Just like he was with Y/n. But with a bonus, he was flirty.

Obviously.

She was not special.

“Oh, I'm doing well, much better,” she laughed. “Especially since Y/n isn’t at the café anymore. No one is ordering us around anymore, right, Dean?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n could see movement. Raising her head just enough to have her in her sight without looking directly at her, she could see her hand on Dean's shoulder. Besides, she wasn't alone. Two other girls from the cafe were standing with her. Without looking at them, Y/n knew. She felt their gaze on her, burning, like vultures around prey.

“I actually liked working with Y/n,” Dean replied as calmly as ever. His words created a spark of hope in Y/n who this time looked directly at Dean. “It’s not as fun without her,” he continued.

“Oh,” Kristina laughed, and her two henchmen followed suit. “I know you want to stay in her good graces by saying all this,” she leaned towards him to whisper in his ear, but made no effort to lower her voice. “But you don’t need to. I think she's going to get fired. The customer came back to file a complaint against her.”

"What?" Dean leaned back slightly to get a better look at Kristina. Now he had his face so close to hers that only one movement was necessary to kiss her. And he had a perfect view into her cleavage. “But…” He turned his head towards the girl sitting in front of him, obviously not understanding why she was being fired and not him.

“You don’t have to lick her boots anymore,” Kristina put a hand on her hip. “I know she’s in love with you, but at this point, it’s pity, right? Spending time with her… Poor little thing. No friends. No boyfriend. Only feelings for those who don’t love her. Just like last time, always falling for the new guy.”

Her face was burning. Y/n was seething, with anger, with sadness, with humiliation. And the worst, the worst was Dean's expression. His gaze, which he constantly fixed on her, seeking to meet her gaze, wanting so much for her to grant him one look, was now stuck in emptiness. And a look of pure confusion made him frown.

Dean refused to look at her anymore.

It was too much.

“Ew, friends to friends,” Kristina added, as if the stabs she had already thrown didn’t hurt enough already. “Ew.”

Standing abruptly, Y/n slammed her hands on the table. Head bowed, her hair cascaded in front of her face, trying as best as they could to hide the tears that welled up in her eyes and inevitably rolled down her cheeks. A ton of insults raced through her mind, but they all got stuck in her throat with this lump growing and growing, until finally, the tears flowed.

One.

Two.

One fell silently onto the table. The other, on her plate, right next to the barely eaten slice of pizza.

Before the third tear fell, Y/n was already out of the restaurant and walking as quickly as she could towards her house. The tears continued to flow without her being able to stop them, but she remained silent. If she could control one thing tonight, it would be her voice. No sound would come out of her mouth until she was alone, at home, in her bed. Only there, she would let herself scream all this pain into her pillow.

No one tried to catch her.

“Good news,” Sam announced before his brother had even closed the door. “Get this. There was no monster from the beginning. It was actually kids who created the whole thing to attract attention. You don’t have to play barista anymore.”

"Oh."

Looking up from his laptop, Sam fixed his gaze on Dean. The door closed slowly and he took off his coat just as slowly and placed it on his bed. The motel was shabby, like all the others, and usually, Dean would never place his precious leather coat on those blankets which he called "the most disgusting object the universe has known." He'd cleaned the covers several times to be sure, but the comforter had kept this unnatural color, so he still didn't trust it.

“Dean.”

“I'm going to take a shower,” his brother grumbled as he headed towards the bathroom, completely ignoring what Sam had just said.

“Okay, but-” the door slammed. “Okay.”

Sam waited for Dean to finish his shower for almost an hour. The only reason Dean Winchester would take such a long shower would be the fantastic water pressure, but having used this bathroom for over 3 weeks, Sam knew that really wasn't the case.

Finally, Dean came out.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Sam closed his laptop to put his full attention on his brother. The latter sat at the end of his bed, dressed with fresh clothes, his towel on his shoulder to catch the droplets falling from his hair.

“Have you ever dreamed of a normal life?” Dean answered his question with another question. At this, Sam rolled his eyes.

“I had a normal life before, remember? Before you picked me up to find Dad?”

Dean made a sound that was a mix of a sigh of guilt and a grunt of frustration, probably directed at himself. "I know but…"

“I can't believe it,” Sam stood up at the revelation. “You like working there.”

“Nah,” Dean slapped the air like he was chasing away the stupid idea. “Actually, yeah, but not anymore. Working in customer service is horrible.”

“I feel like there's a but,” Sam went to sit next to his brother on the bed.

“But,” Dean took a deep breath. "There is a girl."

Sam sighed. Obviously it was about a girl. “Have you slept with her yet? Because if you want to stay here for a one night stand, I swear-”

“She’s in love with me.”

Sam turned his whole body towards his brother, his eyes wide. "Oh."

"Oh."

“Do you like her back?”

At this question, Dean's face disappeared under his large hands. “I don’t know,” his voice sounded muffled by his palms.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

"I don't know!" Dean exclaimed, removing his hands at the same time. It was his turn to avoid looking at someone, staring at the void instead. “I don’t know what it is to love. How to love. If it’s love. It was never explained to me, you know, it wasn’t dad who would tell me how to know if I love someone.”

A silence followed his words, but not for long.

“With Jess…” Sam began slowly, as if the words he was about to say were poisonous snakes that could bite him at any moment. “It was simple. I felt good with her. She felt good with me. And together, we were good.”

“Okay,” Dean listened intently, as if the answers he was looking for were on his brother's lips.

“Do you like spending time with her?” He then asked.

Dean didn't even think for a second. "Oh yeah."

“When you're not with her, what do you do? You think about her, right?”

This time, Dean took a moment before answering. “Well, I worked at the cafe, so obviously I was thinking about her, since she wasn’t there but she used to. And then, when I finished work, I would go see her and we would order food or go to the pizzeria.”

“Okay, and then?”

"And then what?" Dean finally looked his brother in the eye. He still had questions, still doubts, confusion, but that was completely normal. A soft, understanding smile stretched Sam's lips.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

“Oh, how I want to punch that shitty boss in the face,” Dean clenched his fist to mimic his words. “I never hit women, but that girl, Kristina, humiliated Y/n terribly earlier. And I reacted too late, she was gone and-”

He stopped speaking suddenly, as if enlightenment had finally reached his mind.

"And?"

“I have to join Y/n, apologize, I-”

“Dean.”

Stopping just as he was getting up and putting his coat back on, the green eyed man turned to his brother.

“If you're in love, I can't tell you, Dean. But I can confirm that you like her. But for tonight, let her breathe, these feelings are new for the both of you.”

At these words, Dean collapsed on the bed. “Oh, you’re probably right. I don't want to rush her, you know, she's so shy, but at the same time, so... Fierce. She's the perfect balance of sweet and spicy. And I let her down.”

To that, Sam didn't know what to answer. He knew that feeling, the one of having abandoned the person you love. That's how he felt ever since he lost Jess.

“I'm sure you'll figure out how to make amends,” Sam placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Actually… I think I already know,” Dean turned his head towards him, green eyes meeting amber ones. Green eyes sparkling with a new resolution, probably very wicked. “And you, my dear brother, will be able to help me.”

Turned out, losing another employee during the busiest time of the year was a sufficient reason to terminate a suspension preemptively. And although, clearly, this did not seem to make certain employees happy and even less the boss who hated coming back on his decisions, Y/n was able to return to work after barely a week of forced leave. And also, strangely, the customer’s complaint seemed to have vanished from existence. Or maybe it was another lie that Kristina came up with to hurt Y/n.

And what a surprise when she arrived and saw the place.

It was depressing. Everything was messy and upside down, unopened boxes that needed to be refrigerated were lying around everywhere, and other products that needed to stay at room temperature, like syrups, ended up in the freezer. No rotation had been made, and it was with sadness that she had to note all the food they lost and throw everything away. It took her a long time, long enough for someone she despised to come and tell her how to do her job.

"What are you doing? Customers are waiting! Have you forgotten how to work?”

After making this more than derogatory comment, Kristina returned to her favorite position, the one that required the least effort.

Her heart was heavy. Filled and at the same time, empty. Since the last time with Dean at the pizzeria, she hadn't received any news. No call. No text. No, her heart wasn't big with heaviness, it was broken. Split. And now that she had returned to the café, she learned he no longer worked there.

Good for him, she thought as she put away one last box before heading towards the front of the café to deal with the customers. At least he was out of this hell. It was maybe better that way.

“Sorry for the wait, what can I get you?” The usual words were so ingrained in her that they came out of her mouth as soon as she was behind the cash register, without even looking at the customer.

“I would like you to give me the chance to talk to you,” a familiar voice said in front of her. That voice, low, hoarse, and so perfect. She had started to get used to hearing it almost every day. But this time, it forged yet another crack on her heart.

“Dean,” even saying his name was painful. The pain of a lost friendship and crushed hope. The pain of a humiliated moment, a bad memory where he had sat there in silence while she was being crushed as an inactive witness.

“Y/n. There’s no word to express how sorry I am for-”

An apology, of course, wasn't exactly what she wanted, but it was more than she had expected. He was there, in the flesh, in front of her. So, for once and although it was difficult because looking at him would hurt her even more, Y/n raised her head and stared into his sad gaze. Ready and open to hear what he had to say.

There was a sadness almost identical to her own in his beautiful green eyes. Guilt, regrets, he seemed sincere-

“Dean! I thought you had left the ship,” Kristina suddenly entered Y/n’s bubble, who didn’t waste a moment to move to the side. It wasn't unknown that Y/n didn't like being touched or having someone in her bubble, and Kristina knew it, so she did it on purpose. All the time.

“Excuse me, but I was talking with Y/n,” Dean replied in a neutral voice, almost annoyed, even.

“Oh, sure, you want to feel better about last time, but you don't have to,” Kristina continued, crossing her arms over her large chest.

Dean rolled his eyes and shifted his attention to Y/n. “I’m serious, Y/n. Come with me, I need to talk to you. And they don’t deserve you.”

Y/n's mouth opened, then closed, tears welling up in her eyes at an uncontrollable speed.

“Seriously, Dean, don’t you see how pathe-”

“Kristina, shut the fuck up. You’re bothering us.”

This really didn't please the girl who made an offended sound, threw an unimportant insult, and left without another word.

Once finally alone again, Dean was ready. Ready to tell the beautiful barista in front of him everything that was on his heart, even if he didn't really know exactly what it was himself. He had some in the past, girlfriends, one night stands, crushes on the most beautiful and popular girls in school, but that wasn't the same thing. He felt an attachment to Y/n, a different feeling that he couldn't describe. If it was love, he didn't know. But he knew he didn't want to lose her.

“It's a little too late to come to my defense,” her voice said instead of his. Taken by surprise, Dean's mouth opened then closed, like a fish looking flabbergasted. “Although I really enjoyed seeing someone tell her to fuck off for once,” the shadow of a smile drew on her face for a second, but quickly faded away. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work-”

“Wait,” Dean found his voice just in time.

“I don’t have time, Dean,” Y/n turned her back on him, giving him one last eye contact above her shoulder. Her eyes were filled with sadness and seeing her like that physically hurt him.

“On the contrary,” Dean insisted, a smile tugging at his lips as he knew the plan was going like clockwork. “You will soon have plenty of time.”

Seeing the obvious confusion spread across her face, Dean jerked his head towards the boss's office. This caught the attention of not only Y/n but also the other employees, because at the same time, voices were heard coming from that direction. Loud voices, displeased, and then the door opened.

“I am very disappointed with the state of this place. It's deplorable. I’m afraid I won't change my mind, the café is going to close.”

“Wait,” the boss looked tiny behind the person who had just spoken. Like the weight of reality was finally falling on his shoulders. Stomping him to the ground like a pest, just how he had always treated his employees. "You can’t, you don’t have the right!"

“I have all the rights, I am a health inspector, and this place is completely unsanitary.”

Witnessing the whole scene in the front row, like she was in the cinema, Y/n was jubilant. Finally. Finally this place was recognized as being good for trash. Finally, the boss got what he deserved. Finally, things seemed to come full circle and it was all over.

The health inspector subsequently introduced himself to the employees. He looked very young for this job, early twenties, probably, long hair parted in the middle of his forehead and hazel eyes, but regardless, he had done his job properly so Y/n didn’t care about the details.

“This place is going to close. But don't worry, you are entitled to unemployment compensation. Time to find something better for you,” the inspector finished his speech with a wink. If Y/n wasn't so excited by the idea of being rid of this miserable job, she would have been sure that the wink was aimed at her personally.

A laugh brought her attention back to Dean who was still in front of her. As the health inspector informed the customers present of the situation and put a note in the door to say the café was permanently closed, Dean was giggling.

“You did this,” Y/n finally understood.

“Told you we would get you revenge. Now, can you please come with me and listen to me? I need to talk to you.”

“After what you did for me, lunch is on me,” Y/n laughed as well, took off her apron which she threw behind her, and left the café without a glance behind her.

“Listen. So uhm, how can I say this, so uhm… God, I’m so bad at chick flicks and emotional stuff.”

The two had been sitting at the pizzeria for about an hour and a half pizzas. The same place as usual, with the same order, but this time everything was different. It was not simply out of friendship that they came to share a meal, there was more. Hidden feelings, others clearly visible but which had not yet been addressed, and frustration mixed with regrets.

Dean had been trying for two slices of pizza now to say something, but would immediately turn red the moment he tried to open up emotionally. And Y/n couldn't even blame him, seeing the efforts he made for her, what he did at the cafe, for her, and now he was trying so hard to explain and make it up to her… He could say absolutely nothing and she would be satisfied.

“Take your time,” Y/n mentioned between mouthfuls, leaving all her attention on the young man in front of her who still made her heart beat so quickly. Of course, he had made mistakes, and to forgive him just because he had the best revenge for her was pretty stupid, but oh well. Love makes you stupid, right? “It’s not like someone is waiting for me.”

“It’s just,” Dean sighed and ran his hands over his face. Y/n's gaze stayed on the ring on his finger, a ring she had already noticed before. “Not easy to say this. I mean, not to you, but like, talking about my stuff like this. But there’s one thing I know I have to say, and here it is,” he finally seemed to find his bearings, beautiful green eyes anchoring into hers, his red cheeks creating a nice color contrast. "I'm sorry. Sorry for not saying anything when Kristina was there being a bitch. I guess I was taken up by surprise with what she said, but that’s no excuse.”

“Dean, it’s fine,” Y/n shook her head and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she knew exactly what she wanted to say to him. She took a big breath, words and sentences forming quickly in her mind. And it all came out of her mouth as quickly. “I am not ashamed to like you. Not at all. Because you are nice. Pretty. Hella sexy. And I feel comfortable whenever I’m with you. And I like spending time with you, and always wanna spend more. I won’t be ashamed to think all those things about you, because they are true, and they only make you a better person.” Pausing her words, Y/n forced herself to keep her gaze on Dean's again. She noticed that since those words had come out of her mouth, it was easier to hold his gaze. “You don’t have to have the same feelings, I understand. You don’t have to reciprocate or answer my confession, I can already see how bad it is for you to express feelings,” she laughed briefly at his scowling expression. “What I’m trying to say is… Yes. I like you a lot. And if you only like me as a friend, well, I’ll take that. It might hurt, but it would hurt more to not have you around anymore.”

Phew. It was hard to say, but once everything was out, Y/n felt better, lighter even. A heavy weight was finally leaving her heart, but there was still a little left. That was pressing. And tightening with the question… What will his answer be?

Dean took a brief moment to think before answering. Everything had gone silent, neither of them were eating, and both were probably holding their breaths.

“I've only known you for a short time,” Dean finally broke the silence, and the breath left Y/n's lungs which burned as it passed. She could feel the “but” coming. “But…” And there you go. “I really appreciate your company. A lot. I don’t know if it’s the same thing you feel, or if it’s love, but for the first time in a long, long time, I don’t want to leave this town. And I want to continue spending time with you.” Hope was reborn in Y/n, a wave of indescribable emotions suddenly invading her. “I'm going to have to leave, eventually, for work, but... I really want to take a break and try. I don’t know if I can do it, have a normal life, be with you, and just quit my job, so… I can’t promise you anything. I will probably leave eventually, I have so much stuff to do and…”

“You know,” Y/n continued when she saw him struggling with his words, hope now so strong in her body that she was almost vibrating. It wasn't a confession of love, but it was even better. This attachment Dean felt for her was worth even more than any cheesy love confession from the romantic movies or books she loved to delve into. “I no longer really have any ties to this city. No more jobs. If… We realize that things are working between us, and that you need to leave, nothing stops me from coming with you.” Realizing that it was probably too direct since they weren't even together, Y/n quickly adjusted her mind. “But those are just random ifs and thoughts,” she hurriedly took a bite of her pizza, just to make her stop talking.

“Y/n,” raising her head, she looked back at Dean. The latter had a big smile on his face and shook his head, clearly amused by her words. “If I told you what I did for work, you would never believe me. And when you”ll see it with your eyes and will be forced to believe me, you’re going to want to run away from me.”

“You’re a secret agent then?” Y/n hurriedly said, her mouth still full of pizza, her eyes wide. “Wow. Impressive.” She laughed, and Dean nervously laughed with her. If only it was that, it would be so much easier. “It really reminds me of my uncle.”

“Your uncle was a secret agent?” Dean asked, amused by the change of subject and how she was easily taking everything he said to her.

She was really the right one. Maybe she wouldn't run away after all.

“No, actually. When I was young, I often spent time at his house, but my parents stopped visiting him. They said he had lost his mind. But I loved these stories of ghosts and werewolves, he always told me he hunted them, saving people, like a secret agent of the supernatural,” a big smile stretched her lips at this thought, past memories flooding back into her head. It was so long ago, but she kept good memories of her uncle. Expecting the same reaction from Dean, Y/n only met a shocked face, frozen in a position that didn't suit him at all. Eyes wide, mouth parted, his skin white like he actually saw a ghost. She waved her hand in front of his face. “Earth to Dean?”

“Y/n, what’s your last name again?”

Taken aback by the sudden question, she blinked once and then twice. “Uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever told you. It’s Singer, why?”

A long silence answered her questions and her face dropped a little bit. Why did it matter?

“Your uncle… What's his name?”

“Dean, I haven’t seen my uncle in almost 15 years you know-”

“Y/n.”

“Robert. It’s Robert. But I always called him…”

“Bobby.”

It was her turn to have her eyes widen. “Yeah…?”

“I think you and I have more in common than I thought. And you really need to meet my brother,” he immediately stood up and threw two 20 bills on the table. Standing up in turn, confusion filled her entire expression.

“Dean, that’s way too much for two pizzas- Dean?” But she couldn't add more, and the confusion turned into this small, pleasant flame in the middle of her chest when Dean's hand met hers. “Okay, but you’re going to have to explain it to me because I don’t understand anything.”

“You'll understand,” Dean's smile was indescribable because it was so big. But that smile was hiding something else. Secrets that his beautiful lips had surely sealed away for far too long. “Let’s go,” he walked outside, said goodbye to the restaurant owner, and led her to his car. But once inside, he stopped before starting the engine, frozen yet again as another realization hit him.

“What? Something's wrong?”

“You… uhm… might recognize my brother, actually.”

“Why, was he a customer at the café?” Y/n laughed, fastening her seat belt. This whole thing was so sudden, so random, she just wanted to burst laughing. She felt good even if she didn’t quite understand everything that was happening.

“It was the health inspector,” he finally started the car and backed out of the parking lot and onto the road in one smooth, sexy motion.

“Oh. Wait, he’s a health inspector?”

“Not… Really?”

“Dean.”

Silence.

“Dean, did you fake the inspection?”

“Not really?”

“Dean!”

“Please. I’ll explain everything once we arrive. Do you trust me?”

For a second, Dean took his eyes off the road and looked into hers, and she held the gaze for the entire second and saw nothing but honesty. Then, he turned his head and broke eye contact, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see his right hand raised slightly towards her, waiting to be picked up.

“Yeah,” she finally said, gently placing her hand in his. It was warm. Comfortable. And how he squeezed, tenderly but also firmly, showed worry about losing her. “It might be crazy and stupid, but I trust you, Dean Winchester.”

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underground-secret · 21 days

Text

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x F! reader

Description: When Dean gets a call from an "old friend" asking for help, old feelings resurface leaving for messy feelings and a complicated hunt.

Warnings: canon violence, feelings of unrequited love, angst, loving someone being difficult, corpses, crime scenes, cursing, mentions of racism, racist ghost truck?

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 , @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn , @crazyunsexycool

Word Count: 9,251

Route 666

(Master list, Prev Ch, Next Chapter)

I lean against the expanse of the Impala, letting the bright sun shine over me. It was one of those cold but not cold days, where as long as the sun was hitting you it was perfectly right. Sam is next to me looking over the large map he has laid out on the hood of the car, trying to look for a way around a closed-off road.

I’m glad he knew what he was doing ‘cause my map and geography skills only went so far before I was lost.

Meanwhile, Dean was off to the side, his phone pressed to his ear his brows furrowed whoever he was talking to was clearly telling him something important and maybe shocking.

“Ok. I think I found a way we can bypass that construction just East of here,” Sam informs gaining my attention, “We might even make Pennsylvania faster than we thought.” I nod, taking advantage of his hunched-over figure to ruffle his hair, “Nice work, map man.” He snorts, rolling his eyes as he pushes my arm away playfully.

“Yeah. ‘Problem is, we’re not going to Pennsylvania” Dean points out, closing his phone and looking at it thoughtfully. I look at him confused, “We aren’t…?” He nods, wetting his lips, “I just got a call from an, uh, old friend. Her father was killed last night, think it might be our kind of thing.”

“What?” Sam vocalizes. “Yeah. Believe me, she never woulda called, never, if she didn’t need us” Dean clarifies. Without giving us any more information or even a chance to contemplate or counter his statement he gets in the car, “Come on, are you coming or not?”

The Impala cruises down the expanse of the road, a long beautifully green field on one side and a lake on the other. “By old friend you mean…?” Sam asks the question we were both undeniably thinking. “A friend that’s not new” Dean grumbles.

“Oh! Thanks, genius” I remark, he was being weird and that alone was not helping his case. “‘Said her name’s Cassie huh?” Sam said, trying a different angle, “You never mentioned her…”

“Didn’t I?” Dean remarks. He wasn't very good at hiding this one, the car falling silent in the wake of his stupid answer. He finally huffs, “Yeah, we went out.”

“You mean you dated somebody?” Sam asks with a snort, “For more than one night?”

“Oh come on Sammy we're all adults here, we’ve all dated before” I chime in with a smirk. He turns around in his seat, facing me with an expectant look, “Are we talking about the same person here? Dean doesn't date.” Sam exclaims and I push down the ache of that implication, “And aren’t you the least bit curious.”

“Oh no, I am,” I nod enthusiastically, laughing lightly, “I want all the details. I was just tryna be nice.”

He snickers, turning back to his brother, “You heard her, we want all the details.”

I swear Dean’s eye practically twitches, “Am I speaking a language you’re not getting here? Dad and I were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a coupla weeks.”

I want to ask how long ago this was, was it months before his dad disappeared or a year or more ago, but I hold back on my questioning. “And…?” Sam pushes. Dean shrugs slightly.

“Look, it’s terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I’m not seeing how it fits with what we do,” Sam reasons, “Which by the way, how does she know what we do?”

Dean doesn't answer again, silently shifting in his seat uncomfortably. The realization hits me like a brick, “Oh. My. God,” I lean forward in my seat almost getting choked out by my seatbelt, “You told her! You broke the number one hunting rule! You know, not telling anyone, ever!”

“More than that!” Sam adds, “It’s our big family rule. Number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half, I did nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a coupla times and you tell her everything?!” I try not to think about my own relationships both romantic and not that rarely ever made it past a couple of months before it ended, not only having to lie about being a hunter but a witch too. Dean stays silent, staring straight ahead, “Dean!” Sam yells.

“Yeah. Looks like,” he finally acknowledges. He continues to stare ahead, pressing his foot down harder on the gas pedal. Sam shakes his head, giving his brother his classic bitchface.

“Oh. He had it bad” I laugh leaning back in my seat, ignoring the sinking and stabbing feeling in my heart. I figured I’d have to keep doing so on this hunt.

The office was dark, the bright sunlight not able to stretch upon the large room not even with the help of glass doors. The place could really open a couple of blinds, let the light shine in.

An old white man with an interesting-looking tie, one of those Western ones with the jewel and black tether, talks to two people a man and a woman their backs towards us. And the way Dean pauses, staring at the woman it isn't hard to deduce she's Cassie. She and the older black gentlemen next to her seem to be having some sort of dispute with the old white guy.

Then suddenly both of the men walk away, clearly frustrated, leaving Cassie to stand there herself. She turns around swiftly, and almost like a perfectly curated romance movie she nearly hits Dean only inches separating the two. I didn't even realize he had moved forward in the time we've been standing here.

Just looking at her I could tell why Dean fell for her, she's beautiful more than that. She could be a model with her beautiful long dark curls framing her face, full lips colored red, and big brown eyes. She must have stepped out of a magazine, everything about her screamed perfect down to her perfectly shaped eyebrows and perfect nose. “Dean,” she says, her voice smooth despite the look of slight apprehension.

He nods and grins, “Hey Cassie.” And they just stare at each other. He's looking at her in a way I’ve never seen him look at anyone before even despite the tension that hung in the air, unspoken words from however long ago.

His eyes seem to glimmer, you’d have to be a fool not to see he still has feelings for her, that they never went away in the first place. And that it’s more than just any feelings, he loves her and that is a hard pill to swallow.

He clears his throat, breaking the trance they were both in, “This is my brother Sam. And my friend Y/N.” She smiles at each of us before her gaze reverts to Dean, not that I could blame her in the slightest.

“Sorry ‘bout your dad,” he says.

“Yeah. Me too,” she answers.

Her family home was beautiful and extraordinarily large, it was a bit disturbing. Though maybe that was because it reminded me of my home before moving to Kansas, or at least what I remember of it. We sat in the sitting room on vintage settees, another reminder of that home–my mother would quite like the look of this cozy room.

Cassie finally comes back adorning a tray of tea cups and a teapot along with the little bowl of sugar and a small pouring cup of milk, could she get any more perfect and wonderful? “My mothers in pretty bad shape. I’ve been staying with her. I wish she wouldn’t go off by herself. She’s been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about Dad,” she explains.

“Why?” Dean asks as she takes a seat across from us. He was watching her every move as if dedicating it to memory, I wonder if he’s thinking ‘She moves in the same manner she used to’ or maybe that it changed. Suddenly I was not so okay with sitting between the boys even though that's almost how we always sat when talking to someone on a hunt, as it made it harder for them to fight and made them slightly more comfortable with squishing into sofas with their large frames. But now, being in the middle I could easily watch how he looked at her, studied her.

She skillfully pours tea into each cup, “He was scared. He was seeing things.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him,” she responds carefully.

“A truck, did he see a driver?” I ask, diligently accepting the beautiful teacup she handed me. I take a careful sip of the black tea, of course she would know and pick the perfect tea for guests. Does she have any flaws?

“He didn’t talk about a driver,” she answers, “Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad’s car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big.”

Sam accepts his cup of tea, “Thanks. Now you’re sure this dent wasn’t there before?” And as predictable as Dean was he looked at his cup weirdly before depositing it back on the tray, that man was not a tea person he’d take a coffee or a beer any day. I think the only reason he drank the tea I gave him when he was sick was because he knew how desperate Sammy and I were.

“He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn’t a scratch on that thing,” she explains, “It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from Dad’s car…leading right to the edge, where he went over.” She swallows harshly, bowing her head, “One set of tracks. His.”

Dean’s face softens, eyes filling with sympathy, “The first was a friend of your father's?” She nods, “Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about Dad. He ‘lost control of his car.’”

I force my brain to rid itself of any thoughts of Dean and Cassie's relationship. This was like any other hunt, something weird is going on and we are here to help, nothing more.

It was weird, cars don't just drive off the road like that and then have newly made dents that match another vehicle. “Is there any reason you can think of as to why your father and his partner might've been targets? Competition?” I ask. She shakes her head, radiating certainty, “No.”

“And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?” Sam points out.

“When you say it aloud like that…,” she sighs, “listen, I’m a little skeptical about this…ghost stuff…or whatever it is you guys are into.”

Dean huffs, “Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts.”

“That was then,” she bites back. Then they fall back into that thing where they just stare at each other, “I just know that I can’t explain what happened up there. So I called you,” she adds, directing her words only to him. I clear my throat, weary of the bubble they seem to have put around themselves, “You were right in calling” I reasoned softly, “It is very strange and on the off chance it isn’t anything supernatural then it was certainly a cover-up.”

Her perfect eyebrows furrow but before she can respond the sound of the front door opening catches all of our attention, a middle-aged white woman enters through and I assume it's her mother. She shared her mother's eye shape and her nose, but the rest of her she must have gotten from her father.

As if we had gotten caught we all rise from the sofa. Cassie goes over to her mother, taking her arm, “Mom. Where have you been I was so…” her mother cuts her off looking at us, “I had no idea you'd invited friends over.”

“Mom, this Dean, a…friend of mine from…college. ‘His brother Sam and friend Y/N.”

“Well, I won’t interrupt you” her mother smiles nervously.

“Mrs Robinson,” Dean says suddenly, “We’re sorry for your loss. We’d like to talk to you for a minute if you don’t mind.” And as if offended she recoils, “I’m really not up for that right now.”

The morning sun is dimmer today, perfect for the scene we were walking upon. The man Cassie was standing with yesterday, Jimmy, was the newest victim. He died in the same way as the others sometime late last night. Cassie was again arguing with the old white man from yesterday. As we approached I could hear his condescending voice, “Close the man road. The only road in and out of town? Accidents do happen Cassie, and that’s what they are. Accidents.”

We stand beside her, Dean speaking up immediately, “Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy’s car, see if it was pushed?”

Without missing a beat and without looking away from Cassie the man asks, “Who’s this?”

“Dean and Sam Winchester, Y/N L/N. Family friends. This is Mayor Harold Todd” She replies smoothly. This man went from just any old white guy to a powerful old white guy, even worse. And he had two first names, you never trust someone with two first names. Reluctantly Mayor Old Guy answers Dean’s initial question, “There’s one set of tire tracks. One. ‘Doesn’t point to foul play.”

Cassie scuffs, “Mayor, the police, and town officials take their cues from you. If you’re indifferent about…”

He cuts her off, “Indifferent!”

“Would you close the road if the victims were white?” she counters.

Oh. Could she get any more iconic?!

“You suggesting I’m racist Cassie?” He spits, “I’m the last person you should talk to like that.”

“And why is that?” She counters, stepping closer to him.

“Why don’t you ask your mother” he answers before walking away. My jaw drops, what the hell is going on in this town?

I huff, blowing a piece of hair out of my face. I really didn’t want to get dressed, for as much as I’ve been trying to ignore the whole Dean and Cassie situation I was feeling horrible.

I sit on the soft motel bed in nothing but my underwear and a nice white button-down, haven given up on dressing. I feel stupid. Incredibly stupid.

Maybe Sam’s words had gotten to me, maybe I had gotten my hopes up without even realizing it.

He loves someone else, and he’s had for a while. I always thought when you love someone those feelings don’t ever truly go away, there's always a part of you with them. They wind up crossing your mind and you wonder where things went wrong. But I guess I never considered this would also apply to Dean, which is cruel to believe within itself. Which is funny too, all these years I’ve spent loving him…But Sam was right he didn’t date so I guess I assumed he never fell for anyone during his countless one-night stands.

I know death is cruel but maybe love is tied with it. Because I feel like someone took my heart and ran with it, leaving me with this void in my chest and an ache so intense that it throbs in its place. It was stupid to think I had a chance to begin with. I knew not to believe I had one in the first place, but somewhere along the line I had completely forgotten about any of that. So much for listening to my past self, if I had maybe I wouldn't be feeling so damn bad.

But I couldn't be mad. Cassie was wonderful in every possible way and you don't need to know her for long to realize that. They seemed perfect for each other really. She was feisty and had no issue putting someone in their place, which I quite admired, and I know Dean could use that every now and then. If she was a jerk I’m sure I’d have no issue disliking her, but she wasn’t! She was impossible to dislike, and it would be horrible of me to hate her just because she harbors feelings for someone that I love or the fact that he loves her back. That wasn't her fault, it was neither of their faults.

Loving someone has to be the hardest thing one could do.

I get up from the bed and put on my skirt. I couldn't sit here forever, the boys would come knocking and I wouldn't have a good excuse as to why I’m in a mood. Quickly I check myself in the mirror, at least I didn’t cry which means I don't gotta redo my makeup, even if it was minimal to begin with.

How do you stop loving someone? I could use that answer.

I knew I loved him for a long time, too long. But I suppose I didn’t realize just how bad it had gotten, how much it had flourished and I had never expected that to be possible. I love him.

I love him and it hurts so much.

How many times did I have the opportunity to tell him? It had to be in the hundreds. Maybe it was better that I didn’t, he loves someone else and I should be happy for them. I am happy for him. He deserves to be loved and be able to love. Yes, I am happy.

I approach the two older men having lunch, focusing on the wet ground and the wholesomeness that is them eating on a pier. “Hi, sorry. Are you Ron Stubbins?” I ask, taking the lead. I needed to throw myself into the work, I needed the distraction. The older man nods looking at us confused, his black cap bobbing with his head. “You were friends with Jimmy Anderson?” Dean follows up.

“Who are you?” Ron responds with, sitting up straighter. He was sizing us up, skeptical of us, which he had every right to be. “We’re Mr. Anderson’s insurance company. We’re just here to dot ‘I’s’ and cross ‘T’s’,” Dean explains, flashing his badge.

“And they needed to send three of you?” He counters. I giggle, tilting my head slightly, “Would you prefer me leaving?” I ask sweetly. And as predictable as men can be he drags his eyes across my body before shaking his head, “No. No. That won’t be necessary.” I ignore the dirty feeling that washes over me and sticks to my bones like a new layer of skin, it was necessary to do that because now he won’t bother questioning us anymore on that topic.

“We were just wondering, had the deceased mentioned any unusual recent experiences?” Sam questions, getting back on topic. Reluctantly Ron looks away from me to look at the man who questioned him, “What do you mean, unusual?”

“Well visions, hallucinations” He elaborates.

“We’re working with local psychologists to broaden our questioning and research,” I explain, trying to clear the confusion from his face, “It’s all very standard.”

“What company did you say you were with?” Ron counters. Maybe he was more on guard than I thought. “All National Mutual” Dean answers smoothly, “Tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big black truck?”

“What the hell ‘you talking about?” Ron exclaims, “‘You even speaking English?”

Wow, what a lovely guy.

“Son this truck, a big scary monster-looking thing?” Ron's friend suddenly says.

“Yeah actually, I think so” Dean answers. The man hums to himself in thought, please let this interaction be useful. “You’ve heard of something like that?” I ask the man. “I have,” he nods, not bothering to elaborate.

“You have. Where?” Sam pushes.

“Not where,” he finally answers, “When. Back in the ‘60s, there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck.”

“They ever catch the guy?” I ask. He shrugs, “Never found him. Hell, not even sure they really looked. See there was a time, ‘this town wasn’t too friendly to all its citizens.”

“Thank you” Sam nods.

We walk away, heading back to the Impala. “Well, it seems like history is repeating itself,” I began, “From the lack of investigation and racism down to the–”

“Truck,” Dean says, finishing my sentence. “Keeps coming up doesn’t it?” Sam adds.

“You know, I was thinking. You heard of the Flying Dutchman?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, a ghost ship, infused with the Captian’s evil spirit. It was basically part of him” Sam answers, explaining the lore. Dean nods, “So what if we’re dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard’s ghost, re-enacting past crimes.”

“The victims have been black men” Sam continues the theory. I half-shrug, “I don't know. The town has to have more than a handful of black people, but it only seems to be going after specific people. It’s practically targeting those connected to Cassie and her family. I’m sure there’s some deeper link there.”

“That’s why I think it’s more than that,” Dean says.

“All right. Well, you work that angle, go talk to her,” Sam tells his brother specifically, clearly playing matchmaker. “Yeah, I will,” Dean agrees.

“Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing” Sam noted, a playful smile on his lips. Always the meddler. “What other thing?” Dean asks, either genuinely lost or faking it. “The serious, unfinished business?” Sam elaborates. I huff a laugh, “Yeah, seriously Dean it's so painfully obvious. Just talk to the girl.” It pained me to even suggest that, to motivate him in such a way but I want him to be happy, and if that means being with her then so be it.

Dean stops just as we reach the car, going obstinately silent. Sam huffs a laugh this time, “Dean, what is going on between you two?”

“All right, so maybe we were a little more involved than I said,” he finally admits. I give him a pointed look, “Yeah…that was obvious.”

He huffs, “A lot more. Maybe. And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn’t have.”

“Ah look man, everybody’s gotta open up to someone sometime,” Sam reasons, being a little too understanding compared to how we were only yesterday. “Yeah I don’t,” Dean argues, “It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended.”

I smile at him softly, hoping any sadness is concealed far behind my eyes, and I realize Sam is giving him the same look except he’s nearly beaming. “Would you both stop!” he shouts. But we don't because this is a side of Dean we’ve never seen before, and it is beautiful even if it's heartbreaking for me. “Someone blink or something!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up.

“You loved her,” I say softly, the gape in my chest deepening at the verbal declaration. Saying it aloud was so much worse. “Oh God,” he groans, turning to the Impala. “You still do!” I call after him.

“You were in love with her, but you dumped her,” Sam states, connecting the pieces. Dean goes silent, staring at the ground, then carefully glances at his brother before reverting his eyes. “Oh wow. She dumped you.”

I have to stop myself from taking in a sharp breath, there was a lot to this he wasn’t telling us. But why would she break up with him if she still has feelings?

“Get in the car” Dean demands, done being “emotional” and open, “Get in the car!”

Sam hands me my hot chocolate, but not even the sweet treat or the soft snow falling just outside can lift my mood. It makes me feel a little better but it does not fix my heart. Dean didn’t come back last night and I know it’s because he spent the night at Cassie’s. I’m happy they worked things out and hopefully had a wonderful night but again it does not fix my heart.

I held the cup tighter, welcoming the immense warmth it brought to my frozen hands as we stepped out of the small coffee shop. The air was crisp yet gentle as the light fluffy snowflakes descended onto us, the cold flakes collecting in my hair. A small smile graced my face, maybe it was making me feel better. I like the cold, preferred it even, I was cozy in my thick turtle neck and my favorite fleeced-lined jacket.

Sam and I walk in comfortable silence side by side, sipping from our cups and basking in the scenery of the unexpected snow. It was early May in Missouri, it really shouldn’t be snowing but I suppose if it could snow here a little in April then early May couldn't be that weird. Plus it was a light snow that likely wouldn't even stick. But the calming scenery is cut in half by an ambulance that speeds past us, sirens blaring. We share a questioning look but ultimately ignore it until two cop cars rush past us heading the same way. That we can’t ignore. With another shared look, we follow after the sirens.

I look out at the macabre scene, the yellow caution tape not having stopped me from investigating thanks to the use of a fake ID. The body had been bagged after countless photos were taken, but the blood of Mayor Todd still stains the streets. It was a gruesome scene, arguably worse than the others in this case his organs squished out like roadkill and, truthfully, that’s what he had become.

“L/N” Sam calls out from just a few feet behind me. I turned around swiftly, the snow whirling around me, Dean stood next to his brother. He came.

I walk over to the two boys, watching Dean’s clear expression of shock masked by annoyance, “‘You gonna ask me a bunch of questions too?” he asks. I look at him confused, “...no” I drag out slowly. His face seems to relax slightly, something unrecognizable passing in his eyes, “Good,” he nods.

“I already know you made up–made out” I add, his face drops, “Anyways, crime scene,” I point behind me.

“Every bone crushed. Internal organs turned to pudding,” Sam explains the case, catching his brother up, “The cops are all stumped, it’s like something ran him over.” The wind picks up again, swirling the snow in its own private storm, the cold will help with the case as it preserves the body longer. “Something like a truck?” Dean asks, gaining his footing in the case.

“Yeah, except of course there’s no tracks” I answer. He nods, rubbing a hand down his jaw and I have to force my eyes away from the movement, “What was the Mayor doing here anyway?”

“He owned the property. Bought it a few weeks ago” Sam says referring to the building site.

“But he’s white, doesn’t fit the pattern,” Dean points out. Sam nods, “Killings didn’t happen up on the road. That doesn’t fit either.”

I shove my hands into my pocket, taking a quick look back at the crime scene before turning back to the boys, “Then it seems like this case is one of revenge.”

I shuffle through the papers in front of me, glad that I was sent to do research at the town's main library rather than be at the newspaper office with the boys and Cassie. She was probably looking at him all sweetly and being a kind person, and I did not wish to see the loving way they looked at each other. And if avoiding that meant having my nose in dusty boxes of court records then that was okay.

I pull out my phone calling Sam directly instead of Dean, the phone rings a couple of times before he picks up, “Hi” I greet, “I got some info.”

The line goes quiet for a second before I hear his voice, “Alright you're on speaker.”

“Ok, so,” I start, balancing my phone between my ear and my shoulder as I look over the papers, “I have courthouse records here, and according to them Mr and Mrs Mayor bought an abandoned property. The previous owner was the Dorian family who owned it for, like, 150 years.”

“Dorian?” Dean repeats back. “Yes.”

His voice grows quieter but still in range enough for me to hear, “Didn’t you say the Dorian family used to own this paper?” he asks someone else in the room. “Along with everything else around here. Real pillars of the town,” Cassie answers. “Right, right” Dean responds followed by the clicking of keys.

“You got something there?” I ask, readjusting my phone.

“Think so” Sam mumbles, seemingly focused on whatever was happening over at the office.

“This Cyrus Dorian. He vanished in April of ‘63. The case was investigated but never solved. It was right around the time the string of murders was going on back then,” Dean informs, adding more information to what that man yesterday had told us.

“Well to add to that information, the Dorian place seemed to be in really bad shape when the Mayber bought it,” I add, “He bulldozed the place.”

“Mayor Todd knocked down the Dorian place?” Dean asks, presumably, Cassie. “It was a big deal” she answers, “One of the oldest houses left. He made the front page.” I huff a breath, everything connecting yet leaving so many questions at the same time. “You got a date, Y/N?” Dean calls back.

“Um,” I hum shuffling the papers around and reading over the words quickly, “‘3rd of last month.” The line goes quiet again the only sound ringing back being the sharp noise of fingers on a keyboard, “Mayor Todd bulldozed the Dorian family home on the 3rd,” Dean finally responds, “The first killing was the next day.”

Pouring the boiled water into the mug I take a quick look back, Dean kneels in front of the shaken-up Cassie rubbing her knee softly and looking at her with pure determination and adoration. I swallow roughly looking back at the mugs in front of me, nearly overspilling and burning myself.

This was not the time to grieve a love that never happened. Cassie called Dean afraid, having seen the black truck. We were here to help, I was making a soothing herbal tea for her and her mother to calm the nerves.

Finishing with the mugs I carefully carry them into the sitting room. Sam takes one from me, gently handing it to her mother. I hand the mug to Cassie, her shaky hands accepting and rattling the cup, Dean immediately moves to sit at her side but it does not stop his protectiveness if anything it amplifies it; he practically radiates it. “Maybe you should throw a couple of shots in here,” she says, half joking.

I huff a laugh, “Well while the effects of alcohol do have the capabilities of easing the central nervous system, when the effects wear off your body will be jolted back from its depressive state which would really only make you feel worse, more anxious as well as stressed.”

She gives me a half, almost awkward, smile before taking a sip from her mug. Did I say too much? Why didn’t someone stop me? Someone should’ve just cut me off, especially if I wasn’t helping.

“You didn’t see who was driving the truck,” Sam says suddenly, pulling the awkwardness out of the air. “It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone,” she explains, “Why didn’t it kill us?”

“Whoever was controlling the truck wants you afraid first,” Dean answers. This would explain why at least one of the victims had seen it and truthfully thought they were going mad. “Mrs Robinson,” Sam began, “Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died.” Mrs Robinson doesn't answer, seemingly lost in her mind as she shakes. “Mom?” Cassie says carefully, worry laced in her voice.

The older Robinson shakes her head nervously, “Oh. Martin was under a lot of stress. You can’t be sure about what he was seeing.”

“Well after tonight I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck. What happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked. Ok?” Dean snaps, “Your daughter could die. So if you know something now would be a really good time to tell us about it.”

“Dean…” Cassie warns. But her mother's face contorts in emotion, something in her breaking, “Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck.”

“Did he know who it belonged to?” Sam asks, taking a seat across from the woman. “He thought he did,” she answers cryptically. “Who was that?” Dean pushes. Her eyes get watery and she sinks into herself, “Cyrus. A man named Cyrus.”

My gaze flickers to the boys, we are all thinking the same thing, I look back at her, “By any chance was it Cyrus Dorian?” I ask carefully. Dean pulls out a newspaper from inside his coat, handing it to the woman. She doesn't shake her head or nod only replying with, “Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago.”

“How do you know he died, Mrs Robinson?” Dean asks softly, “The papers said he went missing. How do you know he died?”

She hesitates, her mouth agape like a fish out of water or in reality that of a person who got caught, “We were all very young,” she says, “I dated Cyrus a while, I was also seeing Martin…in secret of course. Interracial couples didn’t go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus and when he found out about Martin, I don’t know, he, changed. His hatred. His hatred was frightening.”

“The murder,” Sam voices.

Her voice wobbles, “They were rumors. People of color disappearing into some kind of truck. Nothing ‘ever done,” she swallows shifting in her seat, “Martin and a…Martin and I, we were gonna be, uh, married in that little church near here, but last minute we decided to elope as we didn’t want the attention.” She pushes her short hair out of her face, stressed. “And what became of Cyrus?” I ask.

Endless tears fall down her cheeks, “The day we set for the wedding, was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children’s choir practicing in there. They all died.” I suppress the gasp that wishes to leave my lips, the room seems to dim with the information. What was meant to be a beautiful day was soiled by the blood of innocents.

“Did the attacks stop after that?” Sam asks softly, careful of her fragile mindset.

A sob escapes from her chest, “No! There was one more. One night that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him terribly. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him.”

“Why didn’t you call the cops?” Dean pushes. She continues to cry, “This was forty years ago. He called on his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus’ body into the truck and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land and all three of them kept that secret all of these years.”

“And now all three are gone,” Sam acknowledges. This all confirms the theory of a vengeful spirit. “And so is Mayor Todd,” Dean adds, “Now he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?”

“He was a good man,” Mrs Robinson answers, “He was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus’ disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he…he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cassie asks, her voice hard yet full of emotion. I couldn't imagine what was going on in her head, to find out something like this–“I thought I was protecting them. And now there’s no one left to protect,” her mother reasons.

“Yes, there is” Dean counters, fiercely. His green eyes harden with determination as he looks at Cassie.

I sit on the cold hood of the Impala, gently kicking my legs back and forth watching Dean pace in front of me. Sam leans against the car next to me, his arms crossed as he too watches his brother, “Ah, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms…”

I look at him with an amused smile, “I have no idea what that last part is but it sounds fun!” That stops Dean in his tracks for just a half of a second, he points at us, “No it doesn’t. I saved him from a boring existence.”

“Yeah, occasionally I miss boring” Sam reasons. I nod enthusiastically, “Honestly, we have not had a normal day in like months. Kinda miss it.”

Dean brushes our light complaining off, “So this killer truck–”

“I miss conversations that didn’t start with ‘this killer truck’” Sam quips with a dramatic sigh. I failed to hold back my laughter, Dean laughs lightly and for a brief moment, things feel how they used to, “Well this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for 40 years.”

“So what woke it up?” Sam asks.

“The construction on his house. Or the destruction,” Dean points out.

“Right. Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless” Sam recalls. His brother hums a ‘yes’, nodding.

“Like that theater in Illinois, ya know?” Sam references, and I in fact had no idea what he was talking about. “And the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus’ murder quiet and unsolved,” Dean adds, bringing it back to the case at hand.

“So now his spirit is awakened and out for blood,” Sam acknowledges.

“Yeah, I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway” Dean shrugs.

“Wait, does this mean we have to go swimming in that swamp?” I ask. I mean if we had to salt and burn the bones then we would need said bones which are in a swamp, how nice. Dean smiles at me, I know that look. “No” I warn, pointing at him like an animal that did something wrong. “You said it” he rationalizes.

“Noooo” I whine a pout on my lips, “Do I have to do it alone?”

His wicked smile deepens, “‘Course not, Sammy’s gonna be with you.”

Sam’s shoulders drop, “Man,” he sighs.

Suddenly a familiar figure approaches, her hands tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. Dean stands up straighter, “Hey.” She smiles sadly, “Hey. She’s asleep. Now what?”

“Well, you should stay put, look after her…and we’ll be back. Don’t leave the house,” Dean explains, looking at her in that way that hurts my heart. But she smiles, any worry melting off her face, “Don’t go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it.”

Dean glances back at us, Sam looks down grinning acting as if neither of us could hear the conversation. He turns back to Cassie mumbling something I can't quite make out but whatever it was must have been good because he slowly leans in to kiss her. I drop my head and gaze at the very interesting ground, trying my best to ignore the sound of their intensifying making out. A pang of jealousy, longing, and pain shoots through my chest. If the ground wanted to just open up and consume me now I wouldn’t complain, I’d even help it and just throw myself in it wouldn’t have to work very hard. Sam clears his throat, I look up but Dean just holds out a finger to wait as he brings Cassie even closer.

I drop my eyes again.

Loving someone never hurt so bad. Loving him never hurt so bad.

Was it wrong to love him? Was this always going to be my fate? To see him evermore with other girls, loving them more than he could ever love me.

“You two comin’ or what?” Dean asks. I look up once more and this time his lips aren’t on Cassie.

I tug on the chain again, making sure it's secure, my hands getting wet in the process. I wipe my icky hands off on my jeans as I back away, “Alright he’s good,” I call out to Sam who stands feet away from me, closer to the butt of the pickup Dean was driving. He gives a thumbs up to his brother who begins to move the car forward, the pickup moving slowly in the weight of the heavy truck and water pressure.

We had already gotten it up a lot, but it had gotten stuck on the side of the swamp so we had to readjust its hold to get it the rest of the way up.

The years in the water had diminished it. The old black truck was now more like a rust bucket, remains of the swamp water spilling out from the seams. “All right. A little more…little more,” Sam leads, “All right, stop.”

The engine shuts off and Dean heads to the Impala, he pulls it open rummaging through the various weapons. “Now I know what she sees in you” Sam declares with a snap of his finger, meaning he finally understood what that look in her eyes meant. “What?” Dean asks.

“Come on man, you can admit it. You’re still in love with her” Sam clarifies. I nod even though the implications hurt, “Plus it’s not like no one else knows. So the only person you’re hiding from is yourself.”

Dean looks up from the trunk, “Uhh, can we focus please.”

I purse my lips, “Yeah…focusing has never really been our strong suit…” A container of salt is pressed into my chest, “Hold that” Dean says swiftly.

His expression hardens, all jokes put to rest as he dishes out items, “Gas” he says first, handing the large container to his brother, “Flashlights,” he lists out next filling my empty hand with one.

“Ok, let’s get this done,” he quips, closing the trunk.

We trudge back over to the rusty truck, our flashlights leading our way across the grass. Dean places his hand on the handle and I must wonder how he isn’t grossed out by just the feeling of the flaked paint and rotting metal. He glances at us in a silent ‘you ready?’ We give a nod and he opens the door.

A decaying wet corpse falls out the door and onto the soft grass, a small gush of water following its lead. I leap back like a scared cat, clasping a hand to my mouth and nose the decomposition of the body as well as its marinating in swamp water left a putrid smell. One perhaps worse than anything I've ever smelt before which was saying something considering what I’ve hunted.

“All right let’s get to it,” Dean says. Sam pours the gasoline all over the body, careful not to get it close to us and I jump in with the salt, opening the little latchet to sprinkle the small white crystals over the open-mouthed corpse. The satisfying scratch and flick of a match sounds softly beside me in the quiet night followed by the drop of the matchstick on the body. In mere seconds the remains go up in flames, the warm glow of the fire reflecting on the truck just beside it. I hoped no one would come looking over here with the whirl of smoke twirling above us, the heat powerful enough for me to take another step back.

“Think that’ll do it?” Sam voices, staring down at the burning corpse. But his question is followed by the revving of an engine and two blinding lights pointed at us. Without looking in the direction I knew it was the ghost truck. “I guess not,” Dean quips.

“So burning the body had no effect on that thing?” the younger Winchester asks. “Sure it did. Now it’s really pissed,” Dean responds. I glare at him, “I don't know if this is the time for cool jokes.”

“But Cyrus’ ghost is gone, right Dean?” Sam asks, a hint of panic in his voice as the tuck stares us down. But his brother doesn't answer right away, instead, he starts to walk away, “Apparently not the part that’s fused with the truck.”

I go on my tip toes trying to peak into the truck, maybe we missed something like a severed piece of him that didn’t spill out but before I can vocalize this Sam is calling out to his brother, “Where are you going?” I turn around, catching up to the boys, “Goin’ for a little ride,” Dean answers as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What?!” Sam and I exclaim in unison, “That’s a horrible idea!” I add. But he ignores our concern, “Gonna lead that thing away. That busted piece of crap, you gotta burn it.”

“How the hell are we supposed to burn a truck, Dean?” Sam asks, voice raising in volume. But being the determined man he is he shrugs, “I don’t know. Figure something out.” He rounds the car, opening the driver's door, “At least let one of us come with you, this is horribly dangerous,” I try to reason.

His eyes move up and down my face, before he settles on my eyes once more, “‘Exactly why you’re not comin’ with.” Before I can come up with a retort on how stubborn he is he settles himself into the car, closing the door behind him. I look to Sam for any support on this but he just stares at the car muttering, “Figure some–something–”

I rack my brain for ideas because Dean wasn’t going to listen and would rather be all hot and stubborn than be reasonable, “An explosion?” I suggest. Sam shakes his head, “No, that wouldn’t work. Parts would go everywhere and everything has to burn.”

I huff, frustrated, “I hate when you’re right.”

Dean reverses the Impala and takes off, the engine revering. As predictable as possible the ghost truck roars after him. I try to rack my brain for more ideas, even if we could suddenly light a truck on fire it would take too long for it to burn completely, “Sam, please tell me you got some idea rolling around in there.” He doesn't answer, lost in concentration with his bottom lip between his teeth.

My phone suddenly rings in my pocket, I pull it out swiftly seeing Dean’s name glowing. I flip it open bringing it to my ear, “You okay?” I say immediately. “Uh…yeah,” He says but I remain not convinced, “what are we doing?”

I look at Sam, panicking slightly, “Um, Sam what are we doing?”

He pulls out his phone, “You gotta give me a minute.” He presses his phone to his ear, “He says to give him a minute, I think he’s callin’ someone.”

“I don’t have a minute!” He half yells. “Dude, I don't know!” I panic, “Just…just don’t die, okay?”

“Trying here sweetheart.” I look back at Sam who has stepped away, I give him a hand motion of ‘please hurry up.’ He nods, coming closer to feed me info, “Ask him where he is.” I pull my phone away from my ear putting him on speaker instead, “Okay, Dean where the hell are you?”

“In the middle of nowhere with a killer truck on my ass!” he exclaims, “It’s like it knows I put the torch to Cyrus.”

“Listen to me, this is important” Sam orders, calmly, “I have to know exactly where you are.” Seemingly taking his advice he goes quiet for a beat, “Decatur Road, about two miles off the highway.”

“Ok. Headed East?” Sam follows up.

“Yes!”

A rattle and a bang followed by skitting noise sounds from the phone followed by cursing, “You son of a bitch!”

“Sam!” I yell, begging him to hurry up. “Ok, uhhh, turn right! Up ahead, turn right.” Again the line falls silent, “You make the turn?” Sam questions softly. My heart beats faster with each silent moment that passes. “Yeah, I made the turn!” Dean yells, “You need to move this thing along a little faster.”

“All right, you see a road up ahead?” Sam asks.

“No!... Wait. No, yes, I see it.”

“Ok turn left.”

“Wha..?” Dean half says before he goes quiet again the only sound coming from the line being more screeching and shuffled movement. “All right, now what? He finally responds.

“You need to go seven-tenths of a mile and then stop,” Sam explains. I looked at him strangely, noticing he wasn’t on the phone anymore, but what the hell was he talking about? “Stop?” Dean voices.

“Exactly seven-tenths Dean” Sam repeats.

“God, I hope you know what you’re talking about,” I tell the man beside me. “Me too” he mumbles over the sound of his brother repeating the words ‘seven-tenths.’ I look at him my mouth agape, “You wha–”

“Dean, you still there?” He cuts me off, focusing on his brother again. “Yeah,” Dean responds.

“What’s happening over there?” I ask, not knowing was killing me. “It’s just staring at me,” he answers carefully, “what do I do?”

“Just what you’re doing, bringing it to you,” Sam replies.

“Wha–” Dean began before cutting himself off, the line going quiet for the umpteenth time, “Come on. Come on,” he mumbled quietly but just loud enough for the phone to pick it up. My heart thumps in my chest, anticipation and fear running through my veins as well as something else from those two stupid words–something had to be wrong with me to find that hot now of all times.

The line is silent, for one beat, then another, then another…I grip my phone tighter, “Dean? Dean, are you there? ‘You okay?”

“Where’d it go?” he responds with a mix of shock and confusion. “Dean, you’re where the church was,” Sam explains. “What church!” he freaks.

“The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids,” Sam clarifies.

“There’s not a whole lot left,” Dean responds.

“Church ground is hallowed ground, whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, and sometimes they’re destroyed, so I figured, maybe, that would get rid of it,” Sam explains. I hit his arm, “That was a hunch?!”

Dean adds in with the lecturing, “Maybe? Maybe!! What if you were wrong?!”

“Huh,” Sam hums, “Honestly, that thought hadn’t occurred to me.”

I glare at him sharply, hitting his arm again as I say, “You’re too sassy for your own good.” He laughs, a boyish grin on his face.

I wait in the back, Sam in the driver seat for Dean to say his goodbyes. I liked the back seat, more now than ever because being in the front would mean being able to see out the side mirror and watch Dean kiss the woman he loves and say a goodbye I was sure he didn’t want.

Life was being really unfair and uncool.

I bury my nose in my new book, it would be better to just escape into this world than have to deal with my feelings here in the real world. My feelings in the real world were not fun, they were depressing and hurt…a lot. But no amount of ink on paper formed into beautifully crafted words could fill the gaping hole in my heart, still, I tried as there was nothing else to do.

What is worse is knowing there will never be a chance for me to be loved by him, at least not in the way I do, because there will always be a place in his heart for her. He’ll think of her all the time, dream about her, and perhaps see her in the breeze. His heart belongs to her, and possibly always has.

I needed to accept that. The sooner I did the quicker the pain would go away. I couldn't go on believing I had a chance I needed to huff the flame out now.

No more hope. No more love. We’re friends, always have been, and always will be. That will have to be enough. I couldn’t love him anymore, not if it meant feeling this much pain. I wouldn’t accept his touches anymore for they gave me more hope than I’d like to admit.

No. I was wrong.

Worse of all is knowing that I can’t just stop loving him. Let it be the Gods' fault or the stars or whatever it is I’m meant to believe in but my heart has long been his and always will be. I could never love someone the way I love him, I wasn’t capable of that. Let it be that our love was written in the star's constellations that it was undecided by me or him for my love had to transcend the binds of that nonsense.

I loved him and he did not love me and maybe it was that which I had to accept because to stop loving him would mean to stop my heart from beating. Though even then I suspect not even the afterlife could keep me from my eternal love. And maybe that was pathetic or stupid, especially since he did not care for me in such a way, but it was the truth and no one has ever claimed truth to be a beautiful thing.

I’m brought back to reality with a bump. When did we leave and start driving? I look out the window, we had already made it to the highway…I look at the boys, but both seem fine. Ok then.

“I like her,” Sam says, and suddenly I wish to be lost back in the state I was in moments ago. I would love not to hear or be a part of this conversation. “Yeah,” Dean replies, seemingly just to get his brother to stop.

“You meet someone like her, doesn’t it make you wonder if it’s worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?” Sam asks innocently perhaps trying to get him to understand what he had felt with his girlfriend. But something flickers in his face and suddenly he’s making eye contact with me in the rearview mirror, his eyes written in apology as if it just hit him now what all of this was doing to me. It was that puppy dog look.

I smile sadly at him, giving him a curt nod in a silent ‘it’s okay.’ His gaze flickers back to the road.

Dean leans forward pulling sunglasses from the glove box, he puts them on carefully ignoring his brothers' initial question, “Why don’t you wake me up when it’s my turn to drive?” He slouches down in his seat with a sigh. I shake my head, roll my eyes, and go back to my book.

We were leaving Missouri and all would be well, or as well as they could be.

108 notes · View notes

k2ntoss · 4 months

Text

⭒ tw: minors dni, smut, fingering (f. receiving), dean x f!reader, p in v, slightly public?, breeding, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slapping, degradation, etc.

⭒ a/n: once again i'm here letting my mind wander around, just enjoy this

⭒ words count: 2.276

calm nights at the bunker are not something you're used to but it feels nice to have a quiet moment with the lifestyle you have, hunting monsters is not in your mind when you're lying on the tv room's sofa, watching a old western movie with dean as you try to stay awake. a blanket drapped over your legs as dean remains sat by your side, his eyes travel from the screen to your face once in a while as you fidget with the edge of the soft fabric leaving part of your thigh exposed, the velvety patch that's not covered by your pijama shorts is calling him, almost as if yoir skin was made for dean to touch and mark up and that's something he's done a fair amount of times since you started dating.

your eyes are fixed on the screen, just as dean you know the lines by heart because of the amount of times you've watched this movie with him and you can't help but mumble them with a small smirk, you can feel his gaze on you, maybe your mind already working on a way to make the night a bit more interesting but your thoughts stop flowing when you feel one single finger tracing lines on your leg, slowly going upwards while he tries to keep his focus on the movie and soon it's his hand caressing your skin and giving you soft squeezes that are slowly working a tingly spark of need on your tummy, it makes you lean in closer and lay your head on his shoulder, your body sligthly closer until his hand is moving on your inner thigh under the blanket, a small devilish grin on his lips when his fingers start to play with the fabric of your shorts "aren't you supposed to be watching the movie, dean?" you ask in a soft and teasing tone, your hand going to snatch his wrist to make him stop for a while "am i, baby doll? can't a man be a little touchy with his girlfriend?" his comeback only makes you chuckle as you snuggle yourself on his side at the same time you release his wrist, which makes dean return to the squeezing of your flesh until two of his digits slide down your short to start caressing lightly, the contact of his fingertips against your clothed intimacy sends a jolt through your spine.

"seems like someone is just as eager as i am, hm" he taunts as his index presses playfully on your clit making you gasp and look at him "what is it, babe? lost for words?" that wicked smirk of his pushes you a little more and you swear you can melt under his touch just like that as he resumes his motion, circling with two fingers over your panties making your need built slowly inside of you in the form of a wet patch on your underwear "dean... anyone could come in and see what you're doing" you warn, but deep in your mind the thought of someone finding out what he's doing to you turns you on "what i'm doing? you say you're not here spreading your legs for me, sweetheart?" he points out at the way your legs are separated for dean to touch you more under the covers.

"you just be a good girl and keep that pretty mouth shut" he mutters close to your ear in the moment his fingers pull your panties to the side, index sliding between your folds and a smirk spreading on dean's face as he feels your heat "already this wet, baby? the risk of anyone finding out i'm playing with you turns you on, huh? how dirty" his voice is raspy, he enjoys the way you squirm ever so slightly just to gain a little more friction from his finger "dean, please..." your voice is soft, muffled by the way you decided to cover your mouth, bitting on one of your fingers to resist the urge to moan.

dean knows what you want but there's that need on your shaky words and the way you seem to feel so worried of being discovered with his hand down your pants that it just makes you more needy, that's enough for him to want to keep teasing you and so he does. shit eating grin and smug look on his eyes he takes off his hand before drapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer before his hand finds its way to your cunt again, hand sliding under your shorts and panties, covered by the blanket he lets two fingers trace a short path up and down between your puffy lips making you bite your finger harshly to suppress a whimper right when you listen the door being opened "another western movie?" it's sam's voice from the doorway that makes you freeze "aren't you tired of them, y/n?" he asks with a scoff and dean takes advantage sliding one finger through your entrance "ah- uh, no... not really" you reply without taking your eyes off the screen and squeezing your legs shut, earning a look from dean you swallow hard before relaxing your thighs "don't you wanna join us, sammy?" he asks with a small smirk that sam identifies just as his brother wanting to get them all bored to death with another cheesy cowboys movie but you know that's him wanting to get you screwed up "i pass, dude" sam shrugs before leaving, door shut closed behind him.

"what a pitty, you're already clenching around a single finger to the thought of someone else around while i'm toying with your pretty pussy" dean coos as he adds a second finger, twisting them to touch that spot that drags a strangled moan out of your lips while you rock your hips to grind against his hand "poor little thing, all worked up just with a few touches... bet you want more, don't you, princess?" he asks as his fingers keep working on you, the heel of his palm roughly pressing against your clit and making you moan softly "yes... i want more, dean" you mewl as your hand covers your mouth trying to hold back a whine when he takes his fingers out of you again, inner walls clenching around nothing.

dean is looking at his hand, fingers coated on your fluids and he smirks before pulling his hand in front of your mouth "hm, would you open your pretty mouth, sweetheart? lick my fingers clean" he orders and you do so, lips parted as he slides his two fingers into your mouth with a devilish grin as you start licking and sucking his digits, eyes fixed on his at every movement before he takes them off your mouth "such a pretty doll, aren't you? tasting yourself just because i say so" you nod, the praise on his words but also the tint of mockery on his voice when you're so eager to please him. your eyes follow him every move, even when he takes his hand and licks his thumb, sucking on it before releasing it with a soft 'pop' followed by a low laugh, rumbling sound that was a telltale of what might come next "you taste so sweet, don't you, baby doll?" dean asks before he stands up, heavy steps as he walks to lock the door and then walking back with a heat only grows when he stops in front of you just to sit back by your side.

a soft surprised gasp leaves your lips when he pulls off the blanket, your legs now discovered for him to grab them and pull you to sit on his lap "didn't you think it was all, right?" teasingly he lifts your hips to pull down your shorts while he's fully clothed, jeans, shirt and a flannel on his shoulders, dean's hands squeezing your hips brings you down to make you sit with your panty covered cunt pressed against the rough fabric of his clothes and his hardened cock "bet you're all needy, craving my dick inside of your thight pussy like the slut you are" his voice is low as his lips press harsh kisses on your neck, each one making you grind your hips on him while your hands hold onto his shoulders, pawing at his flannel to pull it off his frame "i need it... need you to fill me so good" your brain at this point is beyond foggy, your thoughts only about how deep inside of you you needed dean and that cocky bastard knew it, not stoping your clumsy hands from taking off his shirt too, making him chuckle when your shaky fingers start undoing his belt and the buttons of his jeans "you're a little dumb thing, bunny, thinking of getting fucked and you can't even stay still" his constant cooing is making you frustrated and hotter, a soft whimper leaving your mouth when his hands slide under your shirt, hands finding your breasts inmediatly because sure as hell you weren't using a bra, who uses one at home? "what a surprise, pretty little bunny is nothing more than a dirty slut isn't she? you're not wearing anything under that shirt, where you waiting for me to touch your tits, huh?" his fingers toying with your nipples makes your breath catch on your throat just as your words "god... dean, can you please-?" he hushes you with a sudden buck of his hips, pressing his hard-on against your cunt "what was that? where you asking for something?" dean mocks you more, the way you were so easy to bother making him harder as he slid your shirt off your torso, mouth running down your neck to attend your breasts, sucking and biting on your nipples as he guided the movements of your hips to make you grind at his own pace before stoping with a low growl.

he lays your back on the couch, not waiting more to take off the remaining clothing on his body. completely bare in front of you he pulls you back to his lap "you want me inside of you, right?" his voice is all rough and deep, eyes a darker shade of green as he grinds his hardness against your covered entrance "spread your legs, bunny, you'll be good and ride me" he says as a matter of a fact, because it is, you'll do as he wants because he knows how to please you as no one has ever done before. a soft nod and you do so, legs spread and eyes glassy from need right before dean decides to rip the fabric of your lace panties, tossing them away with a wide grin before he lifts your body, letting you place the tip of his dick on your entrance before pulling down on him. a gutural growl from his throat meets a whiny moan from you, his lenght making you feel all dizzy but satisfied before dean looks at you "that's a good little whore, taking me in so good" he praises, a clear sing for you to start rocking your hips, a slow pace at first that quickens after a few minutes turning into needy hops.

"you look so good like that, bunny, bouncing on my dick" a laugh rumbles out of him as his hand finds a way to your neck, squeezing teasingly at first but thightening his grip when your inner walls clench around him drawing a hiss out of him "oh, you like this, don't you? like my hand on your neck, pathetic little slut?" he asks as he starts to move his hips too, hard thrusts meeting your quick bounces making the sound of your bodies turn louder "y-yes! i love it... love it when you choke me" you nod enthusiastically before receiving a sharp slap to your cheek, a loud moan and a stutter on your movements while you feel your body growing hotter is a sing for dean to do it again "god... you're a little too fucked up in the brain" he laughs before delivering another slap "you like this? being slapped like a whore?" he asks, pointing each word with a rough thrust that only makes you moan louder "dean... please" you plea in a cry, feeling your body tremble as you are about to reach your climax.

"so fuckin' good... you're so thight, babe" he smirks when you seem too lost to talk back "fuck... 'm gonna fill that pretty pussy of yours, you want that, don't you?" dean asks in a low growl as his thrusts grow messier, holding your hips harshly as he makes your body grind on his as you nod at his words "yes, yes! fill me up, please... cum inside my pussy" your voice is a soft plea, whiny mess you're turned into when dean pounds hard against you "what a pretty bunny you are... all ready to be bred, a little cumslut" he whispers into your ear, a soft cry escaping your lips interrumpted by a loud moan when you reach your climax and clench around him like a vice "fuckin' dirty you are... you look so innocent but it turns you on to be used like a fuck toy" dean mocks you one last time before he gets to his climax too, thick load shot inside of you as he thrusts a couple of times before he stops "how good you are, baby... so good for me, princess" he praises again, lips kissing your cheeks softly as he holds you against his chest while you tremble from pleasure.

not a really calm night at the end but a good one indeed.

#mara's thoughts #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x f!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester #supernatural

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