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targaryenluvs · 3 days

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LITTLE OLD ME? / SAM WINCHESTER

PAIRINGS: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: With the prospect of leaving you to find his father, Sam finds himself running out of time to tell you just how much you mean to him. But do you feel the same? And who’ll confess first?

WORDCOUNT: 2.6K Words

WARNINGS: Pining, jealousy, clueless Sam, teasing, confessions, angst, fluff, kisses, dual pov, arguments, THESE KIDS ARE CLUELESS!!! Lazy writing from me so I used the script

A/N: Set in season one! He’s too cute, he’s so cute I might just faint 😫 I’ll have some dark Sam soon don’t worry I always balance the scales 😋 Me… writing fluff?? unheard of! No Jess slander here too she’s your friend :P italics = flashbacks/thoughts/exaggerations HAHAH I ACCIDENTALLY ADDED MY NAME IN IM GOING TO KMS I’ve changed it now 🤣

AO3 Link

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

Sam had first met you at a party.

A friend of his had dragged him along, claiming that the College experience was not just about studying. Sam didn’t want to be there, but he also didn’t want to disappoint him.

He ended up letting his friend disperse, interacting with the people he knew. Sam knew no one at this party, it consisted of another schools students and a few familiar faces. He nodded at a few but found himself standing in a corner and trying to choose which assignment he was going to finish off when he got to his place.

Which is when he saw you, with one of the biggest smiles on your faces. And Sam couldn’t help but smile along with you. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know what on Earth was so funny, he wanted to smile because you were. It seemed like everyone circled you.

Your friend had noticed him staring your way about a minute ago, but didn’t want to be wrong. So she kept moving you around and dragging you to new people. Lo and behold, his eyes followed. Based on her check, he seemed sweet. He didn’t stare at your ass or your chest, just your face. He laughed and smiled when you did.

He seemed to admiring, and she liked it. Sam’s friend, Mason, returned to the room with a girl on his arm. She watched as Sam side hugged him once he returned.

Mutual friend? Check!

“If you drag me anywhere else my arm is going to fall off Jess!” The party seemingly faded away as you made eye contact with him, god was he cute. His gorgeous brown eyes and hair were more than enough to render you tongue-tied. Sam looked like a deer in headlights as he stared at you, why were you in front of him?

Had he been staring too long?

“Mace! There you are.” The two of them exchanged pleasantries, “Oh, this is my friend Y/n. Mason, Y/n.” Mason reached his hand out to you as you smiled at him. Sam found himself holding his breath, your smile is even bigger now.

He wanted you to smile his way, “This here is Sam! Sam, Y/n.” Jess and Mason shared the same idea as the three others watched as you smiled, “It’s nice to meet you Sam, you can just call me Y/n/n.” He snapped out of his daze and shook your hand, hoping it wasn’t sweaty.

“Sam, I’m Sam. You know that, Mason told you. But uh, you can call me Sammy.” Masons eyebrows furrowed at the notion, he never called him Sammy. The girl on his arm tugged, “Let’s let these two get, acquainted.”

And that you did.

For the rest of the night, you may not have had as much to drink as the others, but you had one of the best nights of your life. You started off in the corner of the room, slowly getting to know eachother. The night led you outside, thumping music and shouts drowned out by the others presence.

Then somehow you ended up heading out for Ice Cream and then at the park. Sitting on swings and laughing at his awful jokes, you’d never felt more care-free. The night was full, and you were thankful.

He shone, if that made sense. Sam was a shot of espresso, and you were an addict. As cheesy as it sounds, you found him to bring color into your life. Your life wasn’t dreary and depressing, but it was boring. You found yourself going from class to your bed, the library, or working.

You had friends, yes, but not too many you could actually rely on if need be. That you trusted. And within one night, you found yourself pushing Sam to the top of that list.

Sam liked you from the get go, how could he not? With your infectious laughter and smile, kind eyes and understanding self. And you listened, with your whole body. You digested everything you heard and were full of empathy. He needed someone like you.

You’d been best friends since then, your first year of college. Best friends and undeniably in love with eachother. Not that the two of you ever noticed. It infuriated Jess and Mason to no end. The two of them saw it, every time you all hung out. The way Sam clung onto everything you said, as if it was Gospel.

The way your eyes practically glistened when he spoke or smiled. You looked up to eachother with so much emotion it hurt the soul. And the second the other was approached? All bets were off.

No man or woman in their mind continued to pursue you once they caught a glimpse of the huge, 6’5 giant behind you. Sometimes they’d keep going, but then he’d come up behind you with some stupid excuse to get you to go back to the table. And that person was left face to face with Sam and his unsettling smile, “You waiting for something?” A quick shake of the head and they were gone.

But it didn’t matter, whether or not you got together or not. You had eachothers backs at the end of the day, no matter what was going on. Even if you were fighting.

The night Sam’s life changed, you were drunk.

The two of you had an argument earlier on.

You ran your fingers through your hair as Sam followed you through the hallway of the apartment building, “Stop walking away from me!” You stopped in your tracks and turned to him, “Stop telling me what to do!”

“I’m not telling you what to do, I’m trying to keep you safe Y/n/n.” His voice was softer now, and it pissed you off. How on Earth were you supposed to be angry with him when he looked like that. And then the eyes? Ugh!

“It seems like you’re always babying me Sam! I can go out with who I want to.” He sighed, taking a step closer he held onto your hands, “I’m not babying you, again, I just want to keep you safe.” You pursed your lips before crossing your arms, “What’s wrong with Ben?”

He’s a vampire.

“Y/n, please.” He was pleading, but you didn’t care.

“No! I never get a clear answer from you. Why don’t you want me to go out with him?” Your voice quivered as you waited for his response. You noticed his jaw clench, you could tell he was keeping his answer under wraps.

Is it because you like me?

“I- I-,” The words wouldn’t form in his mouth and he couldn’t find a decent answer.

“Good one Sam. I’m leaving.”

He watched as you entered the elevator, guilty eyes unwilling to meet his. He sighed as his head hung low, hands stuffed into his pockets.

Sam had been invited to go out that night, he turned it down. Jess had let him know which club the two of you had gone to, and kept him updated on whereabouts. If you needed a ride and he was out, it would take him about thirty minutes to get to you from his party.

A lot can happen in thirty minutes.

His phone ringing drew him out of the light sleep that he’d fallen under, “Hello?” The sleep in his voice was evident to Jess, “Hey Sam. It’s Y/n time.” He scoffed at the term whilst chucking on a jacket and grabbing his keys, “I’ll be there in 10.”

You hadn’t wanted to see Sam, which was what you’d told Jess, repeatedly. Even if it was most definitely not true. Sam and Jess had successfully stuffed your unconscious self into your car, you’d had Jess pick you up after the argument.

He’d been carrying you to his bed when you’d stirred, “I’m sorry. F-for fighting with you. Ben’s a bitch.” Sam laughed at your crude language as he laid you down on the your side of the bed. You’d claimed it the second he’d invited you over to his new place. “Glad to hear it Y/n/‘.” Sam settled on his knees, removing your heels.

“Sweetheart?” Hair fell in front of your face as you turned to face him, “Mhm?” He moved it behind your ear, “You okay if I change you?” A half-assed thumbs up and a lopsided smile was all you could muster. He knew you wouldn’t mind anyways. You’d told him on multiple occasions that you’d murder him if he let you sleep in your makeup too.

“Could you ever be friends with me if I always had run down make up slobbered over me all the time?” You both sat in front of the TV, chowing down on pizza. “I thought that was your usual look?” The pillow you threw his way had begun a pillow war.

He removed your dress before picking out a shirt of yours and boxers. Since it was your favourite combo. Sam smiled at the notion of you practically swamped by his clothes. Using the makeup wipes you had stashed in the bathroom, he gently cleaned your face before settling in for the night. You quickly turned over to bury into the side of your personal furnace.

Sam’s eyes shot open at the sound, it was darker than before, later in the night. You being settled into his side checked off the possibility of you rattling around in the kitchen for a midnight snack. Quickly checking it out he was met with his brother Dean after a tussle.

“Whoa, easy, tiger.” Sam glared at Dean whilst trying to catch his breath, “Dean?” He laughed at Sam, “You scared the crap outta me!” Dean grinned, “That's 'cause you're out of practice.”

Whether he was offended or annoyed, Sam took the opportunity. He grabbed Dean’s hand and managed to turn him and they ended up on the floor.

Dean groaned, “Or not.” Dean tapped him twice where Sam was holding him. “Get off of me.” A small smile came across the youngest Winchester’s face as he rolled to his feet and pulled Dean up.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Brushing himself off he straightened up, “Well, I was looking for a beer.”

Dean placed his hands on Sam’s shoulders, shaking once, and letting go. Sam was understandably confused, “What the hell are you doing here?” The elder of the two relented, “Okay. All right. We gotta talk.”

“Uh, the phone?” Sam crossed his arms as Dean rolled his eyes, “If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?”

Fair point.

The murmurs and bumps were more than enough to wake you up. You made your way to the source before turning the light on. Cursing whatever Sam chose for you to wear, it was cold.

“Sammy?” Your voice was like honey to the two of them, Dean couldn’t help but look at you appreciatively whilst clocking onto the fact that you called him Sammy. The boxers, the bare legs and the cute tired look on your face.

Sam and Dean turned their heads in unison to the sweet voice, “Y/n/n. Hey. Dean, this is my gir— friend. Uh, best friend. Y/n.” Sam cringed internally at his words.

Your face was painted in confusion as your brain finally processed his words, “Wait, your brother Dean?”

You smiled as Sam nodded, you’d always wanted to meet him. Dean grinned at you and moved closer.

“Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league.” You stuttered at the prospect of being Sam’s girlfriend. But you weren’t in the mood to deny it unless he did.

“I—, we aren’t— ,” By a glimpse you could see Sam’s eyes staring straight into Dean’s head, “Alright, why don’t you back up a little Dean?” Sam spoke as Dean laughed, “Just let me put something on.” As you turned to go a voice stops you.

“No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously. Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you.” You smiled at him, “Nice to meet you too Dean.”

“No.” Sam goes over to Y/n and put his arm around her, “No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her. She’s my best friend.” That’s how you two were, touch was never weird for you two. It’s why you were always mistaken for a couple.

Dean sighs, “Okay.” He turns to look at them both straight on, “Um, Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.” Sam nodded along, “So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later.”

Dean ducked his head and looked back up at the couple in front of him.

“Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

Sam expression didn’t change as he nods along. Y/n glanced up at him with a frown, “You never told me your Dad still hunts.” Sam’s lips pressed into a tight smile, “Y/n/n, excuse us. We have to go outside.” You nodded at him, “Can I borrow you, really quickly?”

Dean nodded as Sam smiled, “Of course.” Sitting down on the bed as Sam sat next to you, “If your dad’s missing then are you going to go look for him?” He didn’t know yet, he didn’t even know the whole story yet. “It depends I guess. Where he last was and what Dean tells me.”

“But what about Monday?” Sam couldn’t help but smile, of course you were worried about things that weren’t yours. “I’ll be back in time, I swear Y/n/n.”

He glanced over at you, your hands were in your lap as you smiled, “I know you haven’t told me what your dad hunts. But, I’ve seen your old diary.” His eyes immediately widened, “Y/n—,”

“I believe it, don’t worry. How can I not? I’ve watched my fair share of horror films and Buffy. Plus, my mum always used to tell me to keep an open mind to everything.” Sam had to take a second to grasp everything that had tumbled out from between your lips, “Wait— you knew?”

Your giggles were prominent, until it blew out into a laugh attack, “You should see your face! Of course I knew!” His eyebrows twisted as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I don’t— what?” You grabbed his hands and clutched onto to them, “Baby, come on. All the random facts you always have, that one time you kept talking about the inaccuracies about Vampires. And then today,”

Sam’s face looked as if it had been drained or color, “If this is about—,”

“You sent an article that morning about Vampires and how they should actually be beheaded. And then a random story about them getting close to people abnormally quick. Which is exactly what happened with Ben. I got mad at you because I couldn’t figure out why you wouldn’t just tell me.”

Sam sighed, “Well you can’t blame me for being cautious. And most people don’t handle the whole, ‘Ghosts are real’ bit that easily.”

“Well I’m not most people Sammy.”

“No, no you’re not. You’re better, you always have been Y/n.” The air in the room had apparently been drained, since you couldn’t breathe. Not with those gorgeous eyes staring down at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“If you’re not about to kiss me I give this interaction a minus 0 out of 10.” Sam scoffed, “So you’re rating me now?” You jokingly nodded as his hand was placed on your cheek before kissing you.

And God was it worth the wait.

As you pulled away you couldn’t believe you finally had him.

“100/10.”

“What an honour.”

You couldn’t help yourself as you kissed the tip of his nose, “Anything for something as cute as you.”

“Who, little old me?”

#supernatural x fem!reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #spn x you #spn x reader #spn fanfic #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader

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castiwls · 2 days

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dress - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'Our secret moments in a crowded room. They got no idea about me and you'

Requested; anonymous

Notes;tysm for the request <3 they might be a bit slower over the next few weeks but they are coming :)

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

The sound of music thumped softly through the bar as the sound of laughter drifted through your ears. Your friends happily conversed between themselves as you continued to nurse your second drink of the night. It wasn’t often you found yourself in the company of so many of your friends at once but now that finals were over you’d all found yourselves finally free.

“You okay?” A hand squeezed yours under the table pulling your attention to the person beside you. You smiled squeezing Sam’s hand back. “I’m fine.” You leaned forward slightly lowering your voice. He smiled back before moving his hand to rub small circles on your thigh.

This thing between you both was new. You’d told yourself that you would wait until you’d finished college before you got involved with someone but all that had been thrown out the window the minute you’d met Sam. You’d both decided to keep quiet about your budding relationship though that was easier said than done.

Finishing the last of his drink Sam stood from the table, his hand left your tigh and you frowned slightly at the lost warmth. “I'm gonna go grab another drink. Anyone else?” He paused for a moment and you watched in amusement as multiple hands shot in the air with various shouts of drinks accompanying them. “I’ll help.” You said standing from your seat.

Your friends quickly went back to their conversations as the two of you walked into the crowd. The moment you were far enough into the crowd you felt Sam’s hand wrap around yours as he pulled you towards a corner. “I thought we were going to the bar?” You laughed feeling your back hit the wall. Sam grinned moving his hands to your waist before leaning down. “We are, we're just making a small stop first.”

You felt him press his lips to yours for a moment before he pulled back placing his forehead against yours. “We can’t be too long there gonna get suspicious.” Your voice was quiet as you spoke. A small shiver ran through you at the feel of his breath ghosting your lips.

“There occupied for a little longer at least.” He chuckled quietly throwing a glance over his shoulder before looking back to you. “I’ve not seen you alone all week, excuse me for wanting some time alone.” A small gasp of surprise left your lips as you felt him kiss you again. His hand moved to cup the back of your head as he moved almost impossibly closer, crowding into your space.

After a moment you pulled back, small pants leaving your lips. “Okay. We need to actually go get the drinks now.” You grabbed his hand pulling him towards the bar. As you reached the bar he wrapped an arm over your shoulder pulling you into his side.

A small thrill ran through you as he listed off the drinks, his thumb slowly rubbing circles on your shoulder. You threw a small glance behind your shoulder a small smile growing on your lips at the sight of your friends still just as oblivious as they’d been before.

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mrs-padalecki2341 · 2 days

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Hey bestie, I have an idea for a Dean Smut. I'm thinking friends with benefits turned into couple/lovers troupe. With lyrics from the song Again by Noah Cyrus. Maybe semi rough sex? Whatever you come up with is fine. Im obsessed with this song right now and think it would be perfect for that troupe. Also can they say "I love you" at some point during or after the sex? Please and thank you! <3

Heyy!!! Here you go Bestie, and you know I'll always do your requests! I hope you like it! Love you girl!

~~~

Again

(Dean x Reader)

Warnings/ Promises: Smut, unprotected sex/ creampie (wrap it before you tap it y’all), semi-rough sex, friends with benefits, I think that's it but lmk if I missed something.

Song by Noah Cyrus ft. XXXTentacion

(“All lyrics will be marked as so”)

~~~

You and Dean had been sleeping together for over 9 months now. Whenever one of you needed the other you would just call. And right now, you were going to explode if you weren't fucked senseless within the next few minutes.

Luckily, you didn't live far from their bunker.

You picked up your phone and scrolled through your contacts until you found Dean's name then hit the call button.

He picked up on the first ring.

"*What is it, Y/n hon?*" His voice was husky on the other end, as he already knew the answer.

"I'm coming over." You said into the phone.

"*I'll be in my room waiting.*" And with that, he hung up.

(“You just made the worst mistake And you'll regret it, darling 'Cause once you give and then you take You'll only end up wanting”)

In a matter of minutes, you're at the bunker. You pull out your key and turn it in the lock, letting yourself in.

"*I'm here. See you in a sec.*" You send a quick text to Dean as you walk down the stairs into the bunker.

Sam looks up from his laptop as you pass by him in the library and gives you a small wave, in which you return before scurrying off to Dean's room.

You knock twice to let him know you're there and open the door.

As expected, he's already laying on the bed, waiting for you in nothing but his robe.

"Hey, sexy~" You flirt as you close the door and walk over to the bed, sitting beside him.

He smirks and grabs around your waist, pulling you on top of him, causing you to yelp in surprise.

"Hi~" He smiles and gives you a quick kiss as his hands move to your waist. He hooks his thumbs into your waistline, pulling down both your sweatpants and underwear and revealing your ass.

You kick them off the rest of the way and grab at the tie on his robe, undoing the knot and opening it up. You can't help but moan a little at the fact that he's already hard and leaking precum.

He tugs at your shirt and you assist him in pulling it over your head, then you let him reach behind you and unclasp your bra, throwing both garments to the floor.

"Fuck, you're so hot." He gawks, as if he hadn't seen you like this a thousand times.

"You say that every time." You point out, but you still can't help but smile at the compliment.

"Well, it's true. And besides, it's practically routine to say it at this point~" He runs his hands along your naked figure as he speaks.

You just roll your eyes and lean down to kiss him. He groans into it and kisses you back roughly, his left hand finding your hair and tangling into it as his right hand continues to roam your body.

(“(Ooh-ooh-ooh) was everything hard enough? (Ooh-ooh-ooh) 'cause one day you'll wake up And then you'll say”)

You continue to make out, tongues twisting and lips moving in sync, as you reach your hand down between your bodies and wrap your fingers around Dean's cock.

"Son of a-" Dean grumbles in response to the stimulation. "-bitch~" The last word coming out as more of a moan as you squeeze your hand around him.

You chuckle and start moving your hand up and down over his shaft, still squeezing lightly, earning little moans and grunts from him as you do so.

Then, you raise your hips and line him up with your soaked, wanting core before lowering back down onto him with a sigh.

"Mmn, shit, you're tight as hell." He remarks, groaning at the feeling.

"Yeah, I know, it's been too long." You moan back, rocking your hips slowly, letting him stretch you out.

"You can say that again." He rasps, his eyes rolled back in gratification. Him and Sam had been on back-to-back hunts for the past three and a half weeks and this was the first break they've gotten, aka the first chance he's had to fuck you in almost a month, so you were both overdue for this, especially considering you normally fuck 3-4 times a week or more.

Once you'd adjusted to the stretch of his cock, you sped up the pace, bumping your hips faster until you reached a good speed and rhythm.

You both yelled out in moans and screams of pleasure, sending echos through the bunker. Luckily for Sam, he was used to this from the two of you by now and it didn't really bother him.

You kept the up the fast pace, Dean bucking his hips up to meet with yours with each thrust, until you were both howling out as you got closer to finishing.

"Mm- fuh- fu- mmnph- fuck- I'm so- mmn- close..." You sputtered out between yelps and howls.

With that, Dean moved out of you and flipped the both of you, putting him on top so that he could fuck harder into you.

"SHIT-" You gasped out as he pushed into you harder, his hips crashing against yours with the slap of skin on skin with each shove into you.

It wasn't long before you were gripping at the sheets for dear life as Dean continued to roughly slam his cock in and out of you until you couldn't take anymore.

"DEANNN!!!" You screamed through your orgasm, cumming so hard you blacked out for a moment.

You return to consciousness right as Dean yells out and sprays into you, filling you with his hot cum. Then he collapses on the bed, both of you panting like dogs as you come down from euphoria.

Once he had calmed down some, Dean turned to look at you, his face saying that he has something to tell you, but he doesn't know if he should.

Finally, he sighed and just said it.

"Y/n... I want more from this..."

(“"I wanna be your lover I don't wanna be your friend" You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me again)”)

"What do you mean?" You ask, confused.

"What I mean is..."

There's a long pause before he finally speaks again.

"I love you Y/n..."

Your eyes grow wide in surprise.

"You love me?..." You say after a moment, still trying to process it.

He gives a gentle nod.

(“I-I wanna be your lover Baby, I'll hold my breath You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me)”)

"I... I love you too..." You reply with a bit of hesitation after taking a minute to think about what he said.

(“Again, babe, again Again, babe, again You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again”)

"But?..." He asked, knowing there was going to be one by the way you responded.

"But I don't... I'm not sure if I want to be a couple or whatever or not..." You started.

(“Ooh-ooh-ooh, she's screaming in my head Ooh-ooh-ooh, I left her where I slept Somewhere, I can't escape I'm running from myself Somewhere in between in love and broken, I'm in hell”)

"I just... I don't want to make things awkward between us or anything..." You continued. "I mean, we fit with each other perfectly..."

"In more ways than one." He interjected.

"But... I guess I'm just... scared that things might not still be the same if we were together." You let out a sigh.

(“Saying, "I wanna be your lover I don't wanna be your friend" You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me again)”)

Dean pulled you up against him, cuddling into you. "Don't worry. I'm sure things won't be any different. I'm sure we'll still be just as inseparable as we already are." He reassured you.

"Are you sure?" You still question.

"Yeah. I am. If it makes you feel any better, we could just try it out at first and if it doesn't work, we could always just go back to being friends with benefits." He suggested, his voice calm and sweet.

(“I-I wanna be your lover You're leaving when the clock hits ten You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me)”)

"Yeah... That sounds good." You finally decide. You curl up against him and nuzzle your face into his chest. "Good." He sighed in relief.

(“Again, babe, again Again, babe, again You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me)”)

"I love you, Dean." You say contently, feeling safe in the comfort of his arms.

"I love you too, Y/n." He answered happily. "I love you so much."

(“Again, babe, again Again, babe, again You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me again)”)

He gave you a gentle kiss on the head and pulled you in closer. You moved closer as well and let his embrace take away all your problems and worries, falling asleep in his arms.

-SP<3

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #winchester smut #smut #spn smut #dean winchester spn #dean supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester imagine #smut writing #request #spn fic

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underground-secret · 3 days

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

Description: More of Y/N's past is revealed. Dean is there to comfort her as he inquires about the parts she never shared. Warnings: Angst, talk of past abuse, child abuse, comfort, coping, understanding trauma, trauma, denial, no GIF sorry!

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 @seninjakitey @mystic-mara

Word Count: 1,974

Words mean more at night

(Masterlist, Prev Ch, Next Ch)

A back-and-forth motion rubs against my knee but my eyes are down at the carpeted floors. Someone got me to my motel room.

I blink, my eyes tracing the movement to a familiar veiny hand. He’s kneeled in front of me, patiently waiting for me. His motion on my knee doesn’t stop as he smiles at me sadly, “Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” I answer weakly, watching his face for any changes. Carefully he raises his free hand to my hand, giving me time to back away. He covers my clutched hand, I hadn’t realized I was forming tight fists. He gently pries my fingers open revealing little alcohol packets. That’s the light thing I was handed to clean off the specks of blood…blood from—

“Hey, you’re okay,” Dean says softly, pulling me back to the present. He takes the packets from my hands, opening one carefully but before he moves to do anything he asks, “Can I?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. I know I wasn’t supposed to allow him our small touches but that can all be screwed right now. I want a hug and I want to hide under the covers until it all passes, as childish as it sounds. “Words,” he reminds. He had his nailbed-biting habits I had the habit of shutting down and he knew that well enough to try and push me out of it, even if it meant just answering verbally. “Yes, please,” I say just barely above a whisper.

The motion on my knee stops and with that same hand, he reaches up slowly to cradle my head, pushing some of my hair back. He gets closer to my face and with the alcohol pad he lightly rubs off a spec on my cheek, his eyes focused there. I knew what he was thinking, I could see the thoughts and questions swirling in his eyes. “You can ask,” I say, it’s better to get it over now. He doesn’t say anything for a beat as he cleans a couple of spots on my face, “Not my place too,” he answers.

He lets go of me, pushing off the balls of his feet, and standing up, he collects the scraps and walks to the other side of my small motel room to discard them.

I want to sink into myself, “You’re upset with me,” I tell him, knowing I'm right by his body language and just overall behavior. Again he doesn’t answer but I can see the tension in his shoulders and I know he’s holding back. I kick off my shoes, scooting back on the bed until my back hits the headboard. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around me as he fidgets with something on the counter.

He turns around swiftly but doesn’t move towards me, “Why didn–” he cuts himself off, running a hand down his face. “I’m sorry,” I say softly.

He shakes his head, “No, you got nothin’ to apologize for sweetheart I–”

“You can say it. Let’s just talk about this now, I don’t like it when you’re upset at me,” I admit though I’m sure he already knew. He sighs, looking away, “I’m not upset at you.”

“You aren’t?” I ask, surprised.

“No. I’m mad I didn’t know,” he steps closer until he reaches the bed, “I should’ve known.”

I pat the spot next to me, allowing him to get closer so we could sit comfortably like old times, “We were young,” I reasoned. He takes the spot next to me, the bed dipping as he does, “I have two years on you,” he counters. I roll my eyes, he always tries to play that card. “Well, I was very good at hiding it, had to be. Plus…you heard what I said about B/N.”

He groans, frustrated, his head leaning back on the headboard, “That doesn’t make me feel better. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped.”

“You had your own things to worry about. We didn’t see each other very often then either, we hung out more after he died and by then it was no longer an issue,” I explain. But he doesn’t respond. “I’m quite resilient you know. Not much can really kill me,” I add, trying to lighten the mood. His head snaps to me, “That doesn’t make it better. You were still…”

“It’s okay,” I say, focusing my eyes on the wall across the room. “It’s not,” he replies, “He died when you were 15, you had 3 years of that.” I’m almost surprised he remembered the exact time like that, though maybe he had been thinking about it and started to calculate. I don’t say anything for I have nothing to say at all, I don’t talk about it and I’ve tried to forget it. “I shoulda known,” he repeats. I turn my head to look at him being met with his side profile, his eyebrows scrunched together and his jaw tense, he was beating himself up over something he couldn’t control. “I didn’t expect you to help me or save me you know, or anyone for that matter. Just hanging out with you and Sammy was enough.”

His jaw seems to twitch, “I saw some bruises before, but you said it was from a hunt you helped your Dad with. You're a lousy liar so I should’ve known.”

“Dean,” I say firmly, touching his shoulder. He meets my eyes, his green eyes are cold, “Trust me when I say it wasn’t your fault, it was no one’s fault. It just happened. And it’s over now, has been for a while.”

He swallows roughly, his Addams apple bobbing, and I know he doesn’t believe me, “It’s your Dad’s fault, he’s a prick. Don’t matter if he was grieving or not.”

I frown, remove my hand from his arm, and focus my attention back on the wall. I can feel his gaze burning into the side of my face, “Don’t tell me you actually feel bad for him…” he says but I don't answer, “You don’t blame him?” he asks confused, leaning forward in an attempt to catch my eyes. I shrug, shrinking further into myself in an attempt to make myself smaller, “I don–I don’t know. He wasn’t always like that…he just….Mom was gone so…” I exhale a shaky breath, “I know it was wrong, that he shouldn’t have been doing that. I know that. It’s not like I forgive him or anything, I mean he hurt my brother—”

“And you,” Dean cuts me off to add.

“Yeah…and I know there are healthier ways of coping, I don’t condone his actions and I couldn’t imagine how anyone could do that to their kids but Mom was gone and…”

“There is no ‘but’ and you know that. Your explanation isn't going anywhere ‘cause there’s no excuse for that,” he interjects firmly. I know he’s right, but it doesn’t feel right to believe or say and I don’t know why. “He was only mean when he was drunk, otherwise he was quiet or gone,” I try to reason but the words feel wrong as they leave my mouth. “Not an excuse,” he counters.

“I know,” I mumble, “But! It started as an accident!” I say looking at Dean, “And it was necessary. He was on a hunt by himself and we knew he would be back soon but it was late so me and B/N made dinner together, we ate and saved some for him. B/N ended up falling asleep early, his football practice totally knocked him out, so I stayed up and waited at the kitchen table to make sure Dad got home okay. When he finally did get home he was very drunk and smelt like alcohol, I helped him and he was babbling about Mom. He pushed me off of him, ‘said he could do it himself so I backed off a little.

Then he was trying to get to the fridge for another beer but I got in his way cause I knew he had too much and should have water instead, he called me some mean names that I don’t wish to repeat. I’m very stubborn so I didn’t move and he hit me, it was just a slap though. But I have this whole defense mechanism and if my body thinks it’s in true danger then my powers will start working to defend me without really my control, and it’s very hard to shut off. So things started to rattle, and a picture frame on the mantel of Mom broke and that really made him upset so he hit me again this time harder and I actually passed out. But that’s okay! cause nothing else broke and I could’ve really hurt someone or if it got too out of control then I could’ve gotten the attention of hunters.”

I stop my rambling of the story, watching Dean’s face to see if he finally understood. But his eyes were filled with so much sadness and his face dropped with sympathy, a frown on his lips. “What?” I ask confused, didn’t he get it now? He doesn’t answer, instead, he wraps his arms around me, bringing me into his chest. I shift my legs so I can hug him back comfortably, but I hold onto his arms more confused than anything. “Wasn’t necessary,” he says, his chin on my head. I open my mouth to say something else, to say he’s wrong but it hits me then. I was being an idiot, a total fool.

If someone told me that story I would feel bad for them and say they didn’t deserve that, they did nothing wrong in the first place. But it wasn’t someone else’s story, it was mine, and somehow that made it different. Right?

It shouldn’t. I know it shouldn’t, so why do I feel this way? I’m not normally like this. “Wasn’t your fault. You were a kid and you were trying to help, he’s an asshole and shouldn’t have done any of it,” Dean says softly.

Tears run down my cheek. I didn’t like his Dad because he didn’t treat them well so why was I making excuses for my Dad? Was it because of Mom? She loved him so wholly but still would have despised what he became, did he know that? Did that only make him feel worse?

And just because he wasn’t always mean to us doesn’t mean it was okay. Because it was more than being mean, I know that.

I know by morning I’ll be in a better mood. I’ll have a different perspective on things that I won’t understand for a while, I’m self-aware enough to know that too. But it will be okay because things always turn out okay, they always get better. Tomorrow will always be a new day and the sun will shine brighter.

I pull away from Dean just far enough to look at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it was nothin’ against you.”

He gently wipes away a tear falling down my cheek, “Stop apologizing.”

I open my mouth to apologize for apologizing but seeing the issue there I lean my head into his chest again. We stay there silently for a while and I try to focus on the soft rise and fall of his chest instead of my mind. He rubs a hand up and down my back, and my shoulders drop. It’s been a long day with a lot of emotions and I was tired. “He can’t hurt you anymore. ‘Won’t let anyone hurt you,” he whispers just barely audible. But my eyes were fluttering shut, growing heavy so maybe I imagined it and the soft press of his lips to my crown.

Tomorrow will be better, I remind myself.

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5sospenguinqueen · 3 days

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Y/N: YOU SHOT HIM WITH A GRENADE LAUNCHER! OF COURSE HE'S MAD!

Dean: WELL I'M SORRY! I THOUGHT HE'D BE TOO DEAD TO BE MAD!

#supernatural #supernatural incorrect quotes #supernatural imagine #supernatural drabble #supernatural headcanon #supernatural prompt #supernatural one shot #supernatural funny #supernatural fluff #supernatural dean #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester headcanons #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dating dean winchester would include

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tofics · 2 days

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Out Of This World

Chapter 3

Masterlist

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x fem!Reader x Dean Winchester

Summary: You and the Mikaelsons are fighting a powerful witch that’s trying to take over New Orleans. The only solution: banishment to another universe. However, the spell goes… wrong, and it’s not the witch that ends up in another universe, but you. - At the same time, over a thousand miles away in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm goes off: a rift has opened up. The Winchesters and their angel partners in crime decide to investigate. What will they find when they get to New Orleans?

Word count: 4201

Warnings: cursing, allusions of a panic attack.

Previously: The fact that the call went through and it rang almost made you cry with relief. Finally, you thought and impatiently shifted your weight from one foot to the other and back. "Come on, pick up, pick up pick up pick up," you urged Rebekah on as it rang twice, three times, four times, but no one answered. Then you were connected to her mailbox. "This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency, leave a message." You stared at your display. You'd clearly dialed Rebekah's number. "Who the hell is Dean Winchester?," you muttered to yourself.

A gentle breeze fluttered through the curtains of your bedroom windows. Warm sunlight trickled through the half closed blinds and danced around the room, broken into colorful spots by the rainbow suncatcher that dangled from the curtain rod. Together with the birdsongs outside, the tinkling of the glass pieces mixed into a dulcet, almost narcotic ambiance.

You kept wafting in and out of a blissful sleep. In the moments that you were more alert you could register the sensation of tender strokes over the top of your hair, fingers trickling down your shoulders and over your back, drawing circles over your bare skin.

There was nowhere you felt safer, nowhere you felt calmer than right here. Your head resting in the shallow hollow right below his ribs, an arm thrown lazily across his abdomen while the other one was tucked neatly underneath you.

"I love you." You heard his murmur as much as you felt it in the vibration of his chest. Your lips curled into a sleepy smile as you felt a kiss on the top of your head. His fingers continued to dance across your back in soft strokes and you found yourself dozing off again when his hand travelled to your shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Time to wake up!" Your response came in the form of an uncompliant noise. If it was up to you, you'd continue to stay in bed like this until noon at least. Maybe the whole day. You willed his hand to drift back to your spine, but instead, there was another squeeze on your shoulder, this one more urgent. You shook your shoulder as if to rid yourself of his hand and wiggled your back, a wordless hint to resume his activity from just a few seconds ago. Just a second later though, his fingers dug into your shoulder harshly. The resulting pain that shot down your arm and into your neck made you jump up.

"Elijah, what the fuck!" you exclaimed as you spun to face him, but when you turned around, your stomach dropped. It wasn't Elijah you were facing, but Athea. Her face was ashen, her eyes shot red, her lips blue and purple. Blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth as her lips drew into a devilish grin. "I said time to wake UP!"

You shot up from where you'd been laying asleep just a second ago with a loud gasp. Your heart was racing in your chest as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. Shabby, flowery wallpaper, littered with cracks and peeling off the walls in more places than it stuck to. A car horn blared somewhere outside. The neon sign that announced open vacancies to the freeway nearby flickered a couple of times, then resumed shining, drenching your room in its orange light. Every surface that held a little bit of color in the day was now rendered black and white with a tinge of orange. It looked like someone had used a sepia filter on the place, resulting in a surreal atmosphere.

You threw your covers to the side in an attempt to rid yourself of the fabric that was somehow both too warm and cold at the same time. On top of being itchy, your blanket was now damp with sweat. You scrambled out of bed and stumbled over to the sink in the corner where you splashed your face with cold water a couple of times. Your heart was still hammering in your chest when you glanced in the tarnished mirror.

Your dream had rattled you. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't have been as big of a deal. But with the previous day's events, a fly bumping against the window could have set you off. You were on edge, restless, homeless, alone. You had no harbor, no safe space, no safety net to fall back on. Any other night, Elijah would have pulled you close into the comfort of his arms and whispered soothing words into your ear until you had fallen back asleep. Now, his lack of presence felt palpable.

You shuffled back to the bed and slumped down onto the lumpy mattress. The floor beneath your feet was wilted, the linoleum all scratched up and blotchy. It went hand-in-hand with the derelict state of the walls. What had once been a colorful - mind you, not necessarily tasteful - scene was now nothing more but a testament to the vast sea of sad stories this place had witnessed over the years. Whoever took shelter here didn't do so out of choice, but necessity. Just like you had.

You had arrived in this version of the world with only a few dollars in your pocket. There had never really been a reason for you to keep a lot of cash on hand - being part of the Mikaelson family had many perks, obscene wealth being one of them. Most of the people you interacted with knew your status, and, more importantly, your boyfriend. Dating Elijah meant that even if you were out of cash or a credit card, you could open a tab on the Mikaelson name. Here, however... What you had brought with you into this world was just about enough to cover the bill for one night's stay.

One more thing to be added to your list of 'problems that need fixing right away', although shelter and food would probably rise to the top of that list rather soon, surpassing 'find a way home to my original universe' very quickly. The latter alone came with a multitude of problems on its own. Where would you find someone to do the spell for you? Where would you get the ingredients? Or the spell itself?! It was like you were fighting a Hydra. With each question, two more appeared, and while it left you with thrice the amount of questions, not a single solution presented itself. It was simply overwhelming. You rolled over to the side and dug your fists into your hair. It was a pitiful image, the way you were huddled into fetal position. Thick strands of hair bundled up in your fists, tugging and pulling on your skull as if, with enough force, you could not only pluck out your hair, but your thoughts too.

For the second time today, you let the tears come, willing them to lull you to sleep.

"And for you, sugar?" The waitress beamed at Dean, the glint in her eyes hinting at the willingness to serve more than what could be ordered off the menu; a phone number perhaps. She was cute too, what with her apron accentuating her hips in a way that was sure to bring in a good amount of tips and long, blonde hair, tied back in a ponytail that swayed behind her when she walked. Her nametag read 'Candice'. Usually, Dean would have gone for her, if it hadn't been for the hours long drive and awfully short night he'd had.

"Coffee and waffles, please," he replied in a gruff tone. A bit too harsh, but it had been a very short night and it was very early. There was a brief hint of disappointment in Candice's eyes, but she quickly recovered and wrote his order down on her notepad. "Comin' right up!" Candice turned on her heels and hopped away. 'There's way too much pep in that girl's step at this hour,' Dean thought to himself and rubbed his face.

"I talked to Sam before you woke up. He said him and Jack were able to trace the rift to a radius of roughly 50 yards." Cas laid a map out on the table of the diner and tapped on a location. "This is where the signal emanated from." "Did they get any sleep at all?" Dean leaned forward and inspected the street map. The spot Cas was pointing at wasn't too far off from where they were at. "You know Jack doesn't sleep." Dean rolled his eyes and fished for a pen in his pocket. "I meant Sammy." After a quick consult of the map's scale, he laid his index finger and thumb down on the map over the spot Cas had pointed at. "I imagine he got as much sleep as you did." Cas replied as Dean drew a circle around the mentioned area. "Hmm." Candice returned with a cup of steaming coffee and a chamomile tea for Cas. Dean thanked her as she served their drinks which earned him a wink before she skipped off again to greet a new customer that had just come in. "Chamomile tea? Really?" He raised a brow at Cas. "Yes, Dean, chamomile tea. It's supposed to have calming effects." The angel replied before he blew on his tea. A quick smile played around Dean's lips. It had been many years since he'd first met Castiel - he'd come such a long way since then. Sitting in a diner, blowing on his tea before occasionally taking a sip - a far cry from the once awkward, so-far-from-human kind of behavior he'd once exhibited. "And that works on angels too?" Cas gave him a glare. "It's about the principle." Dean chuckled and took a sip of his own cup. Not bad for diner coffee. "If you say so. What do you need calming for anyway? Nervous about what we're gonna find?" "Aren't you?" Dean only shrugged. "It's been almost a day since that rift opened. So far, there's no screaming, no reports, nothing. I guess whatever came through can't be too bad."

The smell of greasy breakfast foods seeped into your nose as you walked up to the counter. Despite your hunger - you hadn't really eaten anything in almost 24 hours if you didn't count the liquid dinner that Cami had served you - the scent turned your stomach. It couldn't just be attributed to last night's drinks though. What you were experiencing could be more adequately described as an emotional hangover - your face was puffy and swollen from having cried yourself to sleep, your muscles were sore from being tensed up for hours and your brain felt foggy, struggling to form coherent thoughts. The emotional turbulence and lack of a restful sleep were taking their toll on you.

When you tried to climb onto one of the stools at the counter you had to grab onto the slightly sticky surface to help pull you up. It bordered on embarrassing, but there wasn't enough emotional capacity left within you to care. With a grunt and a groan you finally properly settled onto the high chair. Your upper body slumped over the counter, propped up only by your elbows on the surface, your head coming to rest in the mold of your hands. It was the most comfortable position you could muster at the moment, albeit not the most proper one.

It was still early in the morning, prime-time for the morning rush of customers looking to catch a bite before work, but the place was rather empty with only a few tables occupied. There couldn't have been more than six patrons in the entire joint, you included. So instead of the loud morning chatter one might have expected, it was rather quiet, save for the radio playing in the kitchen and the quiet murmurs of the table a row behind you. It was almost comforting.

A waitress appeared in front of you and slid a menu between your elbows. "Long night, sugar?" She popped the gum she was chewing and got to work on the cutlery that was in a pile next to her, waiting to be rolled into the feeble plastic-y napkins this type of place tended to serve. You only threw an eye over the menu before you pushed it back to her. The quick glance had been enough to force your stomach into summersaults. "More like a really short night," you mumbled as you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to keep from hurling right then and there. Your waitress snickered, but it wasn't mean. "Been there. You want somethin' to eat? Get your strength back there?" She placed a ready set of cutlery on the tray next to her as she eyed you carefully. "Get some color back in that face, hm?" "God, no." Your nose wrinkled out of reflex at the idea of being served a plate of food right now. "I mean, thanks, but I'll just take a pot of coffee." "You mean a cup, sugar?" You shook your head. "I'll need a pot if I want to get through the day ahead of me." "Alright, I'ma get that goin' for ya." The waitress finished wrapping up a set before she headed over to the large coffee machine at the back of the service area.

One pot of caffeine later, the fog in your head had disappeared enough for a plan to slowly take form.

Every single question that had haunted you last night was still still jumping through your brain, but the fresh pump of caffeine sharpened your mind enough to sort them by priority.

How would you get back? - Well, you only knew of one way, and that was the spell that had gotten you here in the first place. As far as you knew, the same way you'd arrived would be your ticket back where you'd come from.

Where would you get the spell? - You'd been a part of assembling the essentials for the spell to work, but you hadn't gathered every component yourself, nor did you have the full list in your head, never mind the spell itself; which, on top of things, you wouldn't be able to perform, because despite having been part of the supernatural scene for years, you were still awfully, painfully, plain-and-nothing-but human.

So taken for granted that you could get your hands on the spell and its ingredients again (a problem that was subsequently moved down on your list and marked with a lower priority), there was still the question of who would perform the spell and what it would cost you. You figured the latter could be figured out somehow (perhaps a case of blind optimism on your part, or just a natural side-effect of having lived as a Mikaelson for years - payment was never an issue, if you were a Mikaelson), but the question of who posed a new question in of itself, and decidedly the most important one:

Was magic even part of this universe?

It had dawned on you that a simple 'yes' was not a given. The research into Kol's spell had only brought up enough information to conclude that yes, alternate universes existed and yes, it was possible to travel between them, but it took immense power and very rare ingredients to do so. You could only guess that it would have been a more common practice if that wasn't the case. The confirmation that alternate universes do exist was about the extent of your knowledge on the topic. To anyone else, your lack of information might have seemed ignorant, but it was really the result of having had one too many life principles turned upside down. You'd grown up in a life where vampires, werewolfs and witches were part of fairytales and not something that actually existed, until you found out that they very much did. You got thrown into the supernatural life by accident, and eventually, it became your life. Things that you'd never dreamed were possible were suddenly part of day-to-day life. So when Freya explained that the spell she had found in Kol's lair opened up a portal, or a rift, as it was referred to, to an alternate dimension, you just rolled with it. Of course it did. Why wouldn't it. Your boyfriend and his family were vampires after all, with a few werewolf genes mixed in here in there. Why wouldn't there be such a thing as alternate universes and a way to travel between them?

But therein lay your problem. Alternate. Meaning not entirely similar to yours. Just because Cami was also a bartender in this universe didn't mean that everything else was also the same.

You'd gotten confirmation of that last night when you had googled every single business and location that you knew your family owned. It had seemed like a smart idea, but had soon driven you into an even more desperate state. The more places you googled, the more names of holders appeared on your screen that meant nothing to you. It became more and more apparent that not only were your Mikaelsons not here, there were no Mikaelsons here whatsoever. Surely, it was debatable - what was worse, to know that this universe's version of your loved ones didn't know you, or that they didn't exist at all? But to you, the answer was clear. Knowing that there was no shape or form of Elijah in this world - not anymore, anyway - made you feel even lonelier, if that was possible at all.

So your most urgent question, your highest priority of the day was crystal clear: find out if magic is real in this universe.

What a perfectly normal quest to go on.

You couldn't have felt more comical if you'd tried.

"Alright, let's get going." Dean stood up from their table and stretched his arms out behind his back. His body was still a bit sore from the long drive they'd gone on yesterday. He loved being behind Baby's wheel, but sitting in one position for hours still did something to his limbs, and it wasn't favorable.

As he stretched himself, his eyes landed on the cake display next to the counter that was just being filled up. Candice had a couple of pies laid out on the counter next to her and was now busy carefully loading them into the display one by one.

"Dean." Cas pulled his attention back, clearly waiting for him to move.

"Just a sec, Cas." It was pie, after all. Fresh pie.

He sauntered over to the counter where a few pies were still lined up. A big smile stretched over his face as his placed his hands on the edge and leaned over the tiled surface to catch a whiff of the freshly baked goods. "Now where have you been hiding these beauties!"

Candice smiled and wiped her hands on her apron. "Fresh outta' the oven! You want a piece?"

Dean scoffed, but the smile never left his face. "Do I want a piece. Make that a whole pie! You got apple?"

Candice peered over the containers in front of her, then pulled one out that she'd just put into the display. Dean's smile now stretched from ear to ear. "Candice, you just became my favorite person."

The waitress laughed, but a hint of redness crept up her neck and into her cheeks. "You want that for here or to go?"

"To go, please. My partner and I gotta go."

Candice nodded as she wrapped tinfoil over the pie and carefully placed the aluminum container in a plastic bag. "Partner, eh? You guys' cops?"

It was Dean's turn to nod. He was about to reply when a voice interrupted him.

"Hey, could I get the check?"

It was a woman two chairs over. She couldn't have been a lot younger than him, five years by most. She was clutching her coffee cup like her life depended on it, and there was an empty pot of coffee in front of her. Her eyes briefly met Dean's as he looked over to her and she quickly looked down, avoiding his gaze.

"Be right with ya, sugar," Candice piped and handed the plastic bag over to Dean. "That'll be 10 dollars." Her cheeks were still flushed, but she matched Dean's smile, seemingly encouraged by his enthusiasm for her pie. He fished two notes out of his back pocket and placed them into Candice's hand. "That's 15 for ya'. You just made this morning a whole lot brighter, Candice."

Candice beamed at the Winchester and he gave her a wink, then headed towards the exit of the diner. He'd almost made it to the door when he heard the voices behind him.

"That'll be two dollars fifty." Candice was presumably talking to the woman who'd ordered the check just before.

"I... I'm 50 cents short."

'None of my business,' said a voice in his head, and it wasn't. But something about the shame in her voice made him turn around.

Candice was looking at the woman like she didn't know what to do. The woman had obviously been through it - hell, her eyebags looked worse than Dean's, and he'd had a rough night. The waitress seemed to be thinking the same thing and looked like she was caught in a conflict between empathy and having to do her job. Before she could say anything, Dean caught up to the two and placed a five dollar bill on the counter.

"I got it."

The woman's head whipped around and she looked at Dean dumbfounded. "I- no, I can't, you don't have to." Dean smiled at her warmly. "I know I don't. But it looks like you're having a rough time and so did I, until my morning just got turned around." He lifted the plastic bag that contained the pie and winked at Candice, who turned even brighter in response. "So I figured maybe I could do the same for you." He winked again, this time at the woman, although it didn't nearly have the same effect on her as it did on the waitress. Instead of blushing, she looked like she was about to refuse his offer again, before she nodded and gave a small smile. "Thank you. That's very kind of you."

A moment later, Dean met up with Cas at the impala. The angel seemed slightly unnerved when he got there. "What took you so long?"

Dean fumbled with the keys and held up the plastic bag once more. "Pie."

Cas rolled his eyes and huffed. "Of course. I can't believe how chill you are about this. The last time we dealt with an open rift, an archangel came through! I don't understand why you're not more worried about this!"

The key to the car had gotten stuck in the keyring and wouldn't come out with just one hand. Frustrated, Dean placed the bag on the roof of the car to free up his other hand. "Believe me, I know. You don't gotta' remind me." He shot Cas a glare before he returned his gaze on the keys.

"Then why are you taking your time to buy pie? Why are we not already there yet? I still don't understand why we didn't go last night when we got here." Castiel was obviously distressed. As he urged Dean on, his voice got even deeper than usual, drenched with urgency.

"Because," Dean exclaimed, "I was tired, Cas! We drove over 16 hours and that was after we just got home from a case! I'm tired! Forgive me if I'm not that excited to be jumping right into the next one!" He slammed his fist on Baby's roof. Both of the men angrily stared at each other over a moment of silence before Cas spoke again.

"It's a rift, Dean."

The Winchester groaned. Cas didn't have to say more than that. He knew how urgent the situation was and, truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure why he was taking things so slowly. It was like some small part of him was worried it would be a repeat of the Michael situation. He sighed and finally managed to get the key un-stuck.

"I know." He opened the door and put the pie in the backseat. "Let's go."

He'd just closed the driver's door when there was a knock on the window. Dean was surprised to see the woman from the diner standing there. He quickly rolled down his window.

"Hey, uh, this might sound a bit weird, but, umh...," the woman started before he could say anything. He raised his eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She looked uncomfortable, like she didn't want to say what she was about to say. Something about it made Dean uneasy. He had a feeling this wasn't just about the coffee he'd paid for. Slowly, so she wouldn't notice, he reached behind his back and laid a hand on his gun. The woman wrung her hands and glanced up at the sky. Dean's hand tightened around the holster. Finally, she met his eyes again.

The dark blonde haired man in the car in front of you was beginning to look impatient, and you couldn't blame him. He'd paid for your coffee, and now here you were, stumbling around your words. Then again, you couldn't be sure you'd heard them right when you'd come out of the diner.

You took a deep breath before you spoke.

"Uh... did you say anything about a rift?"

A/N: This one almost had me in tears because I just couldn't figure out how to get Y/N and Dean to meet. Only took about a month for the idea to finally come to me 🙄 But here we are! Once I got over that hurdle, it was like a walk in the park, haha. Unfortunately we didn't get to see our Mikaelson family in this chapter, but they'll be back soon! Stay tuned!

Feedback is greatly appreciated! 😊 Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

Tag list: @vicmc624 @foreverrandomwritings @imoompalumpa @wildernessflora @spnaquakindgdom @zepskies @starkleila @scripteria @estrelacaida

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itsbuckytm · 17 hours

Text

Love in the Impala / Sam Winchester

summary: Sam and you had always felt a mutual attraction, but the chance to voice your feelings never seemed to arise. Then, one evening, Sam took the initiative, creating an opportunity that could mark the start of a new relationship.

ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar errors

xox'

Being with the Winchesters definitely had its perks, but unfortunately, it came with its share of drawbacks too. One unexpected downside was Dean’s immediate interest in you from the moment he laid eyes on you. What Dean failed to grasp was that your attraction was solely directed towards Sam, and Sam only. Something that he too, quickly picked up on. Unlike you, Sam enjoyed every little bit of it.

Sam couldn’t help but notice your irritation whenever Dean would continuously compliment your appearance, his eyes lingering on your figure, especially during those late nights at the club. It wasn’t until one particular evening after a successful hunt, when the three of you, including Castiel, decided to unwind at the local pub near the hotel. The place was packed, signaling the end of the week, and you were undeniably exhausted. But even then, Dean’s persistent attention towards you remained unwavering.

"You know," he purred, flashing the same overconfident grin he'd given you the first time you met. "Still impressive how you've managed to keep up with us. I mean, with a beauty like yourself. Who could resist, right?" He chuckled, taking a sip of his umpteenth beer to 'unwind'. Meanwhile, you simply returned his gaze, offering a silent smile before diverting your attention elsewhere for amusement. And there it was, Sam’s eyes fixed on yours, impossible to ignore.

Sam was fully aware of his actions, deliberately ignoring whoever the unfortunate lady was vying for his attention. His nods were half-hearted, brows furrowed almost in disdain, as he pretended to listen to whatever was being said, eliciting a slight chuckle from you. "Funny, isn't it?" What you failed to realize was how you, too, were ignoring Dean's words entirely. And in response, Sam did the same, sharing in your amusement with a vulnerable chuckle of his own.

Later in the evening, Dean was completely intoxicated, the taste of alcohol lingering on his breath, while Castiel made valiant attempts to keep the conversation going. Amidst this, you noticed Sam mouthing a word – 'Bathroom' – prompting you to excuse yourself before fully comprehending his intent. Sam not only shared your sentiments but also awaited this opportune moment, perhaps to assert to his brother who you truly belonged to: him.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a little situation to attend to," you announced, your voice cutting through Castiel's ear, who simply hummed in acknowledgment as Dean reluctantly lifted his gaze, his lips forming an unmistakable pout. "Won't be long, I promise," you assured, though that turned out to be entirely inaccurate.

Sam waited for you, a drink in hand now emptied, his eyes fixated on your every movement as you approached him. You could feel his unwavering gaze upon you, devoid of shame or guilt, as he realized the power he held to admire you whenever he pleased, without his brother's interference for once. "Did I forget to mention how beautiful you are?" His gaze hardened slightly, brows furrowing from perhaps admiring a bit too intensely. But where was the line when it came to the two of you?

"Not too shabby yourself," you replied in kind, your teeth gently sinking into your bottom lip as you eyed him from head to toe, a familiar sensation stirring in your stomach, reminiscent of the first time you met Sam. It had been a rookie mistake, spilling your favorite coffee on him, but it led to one of those moments where you were fortunate enough to help him clean not just his shirt, but his chest as well – a memory he seemed to relish in reminding you of. "It's a shame we're not at a coffee shop. Who knows where your clumsiness might have taken us."

Your cheeks flushed at his comment, and the moment he noticed, his lips curved into a smirk as he leaned in closer. It was one of the things he loved about you – not only were you nearly the same height as his brother, but just a tad smaller, creating a perfect fit between the two of you. Trying not to sound too obvious, you chuckled softly, but he couldn't resist teasing you, his fingers gently caressing your chin to draw your focus back to him. "Hey hey, back to me, love," he murmured, his voice husky, rendering you almost defenseless against him, already feeling yourself succumbing to his charm.

"You make it impossible not to be distracted by your beauty," you pouted, your attempt at defense crumbling as your gaze involuntarily shifted from his chest to his lips. Sensing an opportunity, Sam's fingers trailed lightly around your waist, wrapping around you before he contemplated fully enveloping you in his embrace. His grip conveyed an unwavering resolve not to let go. "I have an idea," he confessed, sparking your curiosity about what plan he had brewing from the start – undoubtedly one that would leave Dean regretting ever flirting with you in the first place.

Sam's gaze drifted over to Dean and Cas, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he observed the scene before him. With the two of you not far away, he couldn't resist indulging in the sight. "How about," his voice husky once again, his desire palpable as he clenched his jaw, longing for you – a desire that had been brewing since day one. "We have a little fun in the Impala?"

Your nerves caused you to gulp nervously. Had you heard him correctly? "Th-The Impala, but what about—" Before you could finish your sentence, Sam swiftly cupped your face, his attention solely on you as he pressed the bottle neck into his chest. Without giving you a chance to respond, his lips brushed against yours, initiating a kiss that you found impossible to resist. You felt his breath quicken, followed by a playful nip at your bottom lip and a soft laugh as he quirked a brow in confusion. "What?" you chuckled, to which he responded in kind. "It's just... I don't know how long I could resist. If it weren't for being Soulless, not to mention Dean being so clingy around you—"

Without hesitation, you leaned in once more, rising onto your tiptoes to initiate another kiss. "Then," you broke away from the kiss, allowing Sam a moment to catch his breath, though his gaze pleaded for more. It was enough to tease him, your fingers playing with his collar as you spoke softly, "How about you be a gentleman and take me to the Impala?" He understood your implication immediately, wordlessly heading to settle the bar tab, smoothly concocting a story to excuse yourselves to Dean and Cas, citing the need for some fresh air. Fortunately, Sam's convincing manner provided the perfect cover, sparing you from having to hear the charm he employed on his brother.

As the two of you managed to sneak into the Impala, you couldn't help but chuckle as Sam settled you onto his lap. His fingers traced patterns around your waist, causing a slight shift in your hips as you felt the tension building through the fabric of your clothes. Your cheeks flushed with a rosy hue as you tried to stifle any noise. Public make-outs were never your preference, but with Sam, your adventurous side emerged, perhaps as a subtle message to Dean to cease his flirtations.

"God damn, you look even better on top of me," Sam's eyes darkened as he savored every visible inch of your skin, his fingers digging into your flesh as he relished in the sound of your escalating moans. "Sam..." Your voice echoed through his mind, driving him to the brink of madness. But before things could escalate further, a tap on the Impala from outside abruptly interrupted the moment.

"Dipshit!" Dean's voice, surprisingly less intoxicated, pierced through the silence. In contrast, Castiel remained uncomfortably silent, his presence a reminder of the world outside the cocoon of the car. Sam's chuckle prompted you to bury yourself deeper into the crook of his neck, his arm still protectively wrapped around you as he scrambled for an excuse. Yet, his cocky demeanor remained intact – if this was the tactic to finally make his brother understand, then it had to start somewhere.

"Dean, maybe we could... leave the two of them..." Cas attempted to diffuse the tension, but Dean's strong objection was evident as he stormed into the driver's seat, causing both you and Sam to shift closer together in response.

"Really?" Dean's gaze shifted between the two of you, and you couldn't help but anticipate a hint of sadness or even anger from him, considering it was evident that you and Sam had a mutual attraction. However, his response caught you off guard. "In MY Impala? You can bang anyone, Sam, but NEVER in my Impala," he declared, gesturing emphatically.

The two of you couldn't help but laugh in unison. "So, me hooking up with the girl you've been flirting with isn't a problem?" Sam sounded almost offended at this point.

"I mean," Dean paused, swallowing as his gaze met yours. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes that you felt deeply once they locked with yours. But instead of dwelling on it, he smiled. It was clear that seeing his brother happy was of utmost importance to him. "I know you've had a thing for my brother. I mean, who can resist those puppy eyes?" He ruffled Sam's hair, earning a playful pushback from Sam and a smile from you at the small display of affection.

"You're right," you agreed, redirecting your attention fully back to Sam. "How could anyone resist?"

With that, Dean started the Impala's engine, Castiel back in the passenger seat, while you nestled comfortably in Sam's arms, sitting in his lap. The drive was filled with laughter and shared moments, the four of you enjoying each other's company until you arrived back at the Bunker. As Sam spoke, teasingly, "Don’t think you can get away without me testing you, my love," you tried to hide your blush, only for Dean to interject with mock disgust, "Spare the details! For the love of god."

Chuckling together, now alone, you gently caressed Sam's cheek, admiring every detail of him. "I love you," you whispered softly, leaning in to peck his lips.

"I love you too," he replied earnestly, ensuring that you would never forget that night. And indeed, come morning, you would find it a little difficult to walk, as Sam made sure of it.

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