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kaleldobrev · 10 months

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Old Man

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary: Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (13x), Sexual Innuendos, Dean talking bad about himself, Frat guys giving Y/N the disrespect she doesn’t deserve Authors Note: Me and Jensen have a 17-year age gap – what’s your age gap? | This came out A LOT longer than I expected | I don’t know how to write frat guys xD | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You and Dean pulled up in front of a gas station; needing to stop for gas and maybe a few snacks before the two of you continued your almost four-hour long journey back to the Bunker. You and Dean had just spent the weekend in Lawrence, due to the very rare occurrence that there were no cases. You had told Dean that even though you’d been living at the Bunker with him and Sam for the past couple of years, you had never once been to Lawrence even though you could have easily made a day trip out of it. With that being said, Dean was more than happy to take you and show you around, reminiscing about some of the things that he remembered doing all those years ago back when he was four; back before everything. But that’s not all the trip was, you had done some other things too; like visiting the Biodiversity Institute and Natural History Museum – which was considered to be one of the best museums in the entire state of Kansas, along with Grinter Farms – who prided themselves on their sunflower photo-ops. You enjoyed both places immensely, and were happy that Dean did too, even if he wasn’t initially keen on going to either place at first.

“I’m gonna grab us some snacks while you do the pump.” You said, grabbing your wallet from the glove compartment. Once you closed it and before you exited the car, you looked over at Dean, who was currently giving you the most serious look on his face. “What?”

“You already know what I’m going to say Sweetheart.” His tone sounding just as serious as his facial expression had looked.

“Pie.” You said in unison.

“Cherry or apple?” You asked, the two of you getting out of the car at the same time.

“Like you have to ask.” Dean stated, opening up the fuel cap.

“Just making sure Dean. I mean, I don’t want to come out with apple when you really wanted cherry.” Your comment earned a slight chuckle from him.

“I’ll be getting some cherry pie later, don’t you worry.” He winked.

“I don’t think that applies to me anymore.” You smirked.

“We can always pretend.” He started fueling Baby just then.

“Now that’s a roleplay idea I can get behind.” You winked at him before making your way into the store.

As soon as you walked into the store to grab some snacks for the two of you – one of which needed to be pie; a car pulled up the next pump over with a group of about four men who all appeared to be from the University of Kansas solely based on their Jayhawks apparel. “I don’t know dude. I’m pretty sure that chick was into me.” One of the men said, causing the one that he was talking to, to roll his eyes.

“No dude. She was into me. She was giving me the old fuck me eyes. Did you not see that? Or were you too busy looking at her ass?” He laughed. It was the other guy’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Can you blame me? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.” The young man replied.

“Hell yeah you could!” The other one agreed, giving each other a high five.

There was a part of Dean that found their conversation funny because he had remembered when he was like that; but it hadn’t been for some time. Yes, there were times when he was still like that, but it was solely reserved for one woman: and that woman was you.

“Check out that piece of ass in the store there.” Another one of the men who hadn’t talked before was talking now. His comment caused Dean to turn in their direction and then back into the store. There was no other person that they could be talking about but you, as you were the only person in there besides the clerk behind the counter; and Dean was pretty sure they weren’t talking about the balding clerk.

“Bet she’s a good fuck.” One of the men said. Oh you have no idea. Dean thought to himself.

“I’ll bet you thirty bucks that I can convince her to have sex with me.” The first guy said, the one that had noticed you in the first place.

“Dude, there’s no fucking way she’d have sex with you.” The next guy said. “Look at her! She’s way out of your league. Plus, even if you could pull her, where are the two of you gonna do it uh? The dirty gas station bathroom?”

“Sure why not? I bet she wouldn’t mind it at all.” He winked. His comment caused Dean to chuckle a little to himself, knowing how wrong that guy was. You and Dean have had sex in a variety of different places, but never a gas station bathroom. “Dean, as much as I love you, I’m not fucking in a gas station bathroom. That’s honestly my only limitation.” You once told him. “So, Waffle House bathroom is okay then?” He joked back, causing you to give him a playful smack on the arm from his remark.

“Dude, she’s not gonna give you the time of day. She needs a real man. And that ain’t you.” The man started walking around to the other side of the pump and started making his way toward the store. You ain’t a real man dude. Dean thought to himself. None of them were what he would call a man, only boys pretending to be.

“Watch and learn boys!” The guy said using his most charismatic voice. Dean wasn’t worried at all; he knew that you would never give the guy the time of day. You two had been together for the last couple of years, and the group of quote on quote men weren’t remotely your type in the slightest. Dean had seen pictures of your previous exes or have worked cases with them before. All your previous exes besides about one were all hunters; not varsity jock looking guys, and that’s what those guys were.

“Hey kid, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean finally chimed in. At first, he wasn’t even going to say anything. He had almost wanted to see the boy come back out the store with the look of utter embarrassment on his face when you had rejected him; which he knew was going to happen. But the jealous side of him won in that moment. He knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself – you were one of the best hunters he’d ever seen or worked with. He’d seen you get hit on plenty of times either when you two went to the bar together or while working a case; but those men never seemed like threats to him. But this time, this time felt different for him.

“I’m sorry?” The guy questioned.

“I said, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean said, his voice a bit more stern than usual.

“What’s it to you?” The guy asked, giving a slight snort.

“She’s going to reject you buddy. Trust me.” Dean finished filling the car up and put the pump back in its place. “Just trying to save you the embarrassment in front of your buddies here.”

“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” The guy turned to look at you. You were currently standing at the counter laughing, probably at something the clerk had just said with two apple pie containers in your hands. Although Dean couldn’t hear your laugh, the sound of it echoed in his brain. God, he loved the sound of your laugh.

“That piece of ass” Dean began to say, hating using the words that they had used to describe you, “is my girlfriend.” Dean smirked. He had hoped that his usual tactic would work like it had done in the past. In the past, whenever Dean was with a woman; regardless if she was his girlfriend or not, the minute he said the word girlfriend to another guy that was hitting on his girlfriend, date, etc. the guy would usually back off, not wanting to get into any trouble. But his usual tactic didn’t work, it had simply just made the guy laugh.

“Your girlfriend?” The man laughed again. “Yeah, okay Old Man.”

“Old, Old Man?” Dean was caught off guard. No one had ever really called him an old man before; the only one who ever did it was Claire, but she was the exception, because she was basically family to him.

“Yeah. What are you? Like 50?” The guy behind him chimed in.

Dean turned around. “50? You think I’m 50? I’m 42 dude.” Yet more laughter from the men.

“Close enough.” The man that was close to the store said. At that moment Dean had saw you wave goodbye to the clerk and started to head out toward the door. The man looked at you, and then eyed his buddies, making his way toward Dean. “Listen, tell her that if she wants someone that can keep it up without the use of meds and doesn’t go to bed before 6, to give me a call.” The guy said, giving Dean’s shoulder a slight pat before going into the car with his other three buddies.

Dean started to take out his gun just as the guy in the driver’s seat started the engine. Before he could fully take out his gun you were standing next to him, two boxes of pie in your hands and a slight look of worry on your face. “Can I shoot them?” He asked you.

“Not in public.” You responded, handing him one of the boxes. “What did they say to you?” You were curious, and you had every right to be. Even though you were accustomed to Dean pulling out his gun, you were confused as to why he had wanted to pull it out in that moment, especially since you were pretty sure that the men in the car weren’t any kind of monsters.

“Nothing.” Dean was quick to respond, but his response sounded angry, almost hurt.

“It didn’t look like nothing. Especially since you asked if you could shoot them.” Dean handed you back the box of pie that you had just given him, causing you to give him an even more worried look.

“Can we just leave?” His voice was panicked now, maybe with a small hint of embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Was all you said as the two of you got into Baby.

There was a strong silence between the two of you, and it wasn’t the comfortable kind like you were used to. That was one of the things that you had loved most about Dean; that you and him didn’t constantly need to fill the silence with talking. It was something that you enjoyed because your past boyfriends always needed to have some kind of conversation going because they hated the silence. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Always.” You turned your attention to Dean.

“Am I…Am I old?” He asked. His eyes flicked in your direction and then back onto the road.

“Old?” You asked, not sure if you had heard him right. Him asking if he was old was something that had caught you off guard.

“Yeah. Am I old?” He repeated again.

“Did those guys back there say you were old Dean?” This conversation topic was something that Dean would have never brought up, not unless someone had specifically said something to him. The last time he had this conversation with you was because Claire had jokingly called him an Old Man.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Dean stated. You were positive that’s what it was.

“No. You’re not old Dean. I don’t even know why you would think that.” You knew why he would think that; you were pretty sure that the men back at the gas station had said something to him about it. But you didn’t know why they would have said something to him.

“Those guys back at the gas station called me…Old Man.” His voice sounded slightly defeated, like he was embarrassed even though he had no reason to be. “I caught those assholes looking at you, making comments.” He turned to face you for a slight moment before looking back at the road, his knuckles started to turn white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “They were trying to make a bet about who would be able to pick you up. When I confronted them about it, telling them that you were my girlfriend, that’s when they laughed and called me an old man.”

“Dean –” You began to say, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“Sweetheart, I know you could have handled that yourself. You have a black belt in three different martial arts and you don’t take any kind of shit from anyone. Hell, a part of me had wanted to see you embarrass the guy because I know for a fact that he isn’t your type but…he was your age.” He was your age.

“Well, you’re not old. It’s not like you’re 90 Dean. You’re 42. That’s still young.” You stated, putting your hand on his thigh, a small gesture that you knew he loved. You had hoped that your comment would make him feel slightly better.

“I’m not young Sweetheart, you are. I got like 15 years on you.” His response made your face drop.

“That’s never been a problem for you before. I mean, it’s not like I’m 17 Dean, I’m three years shy of 30.” When you first met Dean, it was roughly five years ago when you were 22 and he was 37. Initially when you had first met him, you had figured that the two of you would be nothing more than just friends due to the semi-massive age difference that there was between the two of you, despite the fact that you did find him attractive. For the first couple of years that you knew him, you didn’t try to pursue anything; and neither did he, although the two of you had similar feelings. Dean had figured that you wouldn’t want to be with someone his age, and you thought that he didn’t want to be with someone your age. It wasn’t until Cas said something and both of you almost dying on a hunt that caused you two to realize that maybe you should give it a shot – and you’ve been together ever since.

“Exactly. You’re three years shy of 30. I’m far, far past that. You know what I was doing at 30? Trying to stop the Apocalypse. When I was 30, you were still in high school. You weren’t even on my radar back then.”

“Would have been pretty good jailbait though.” You joked.

“Not funny.” He responded.

“I’m not laughing.” You said back.

“Can I ask you another question?” His knuckles were still white against the steering wheel.

“Of course.” What else could you possibly say?

“Why me? Why out of all the guys you could possibly be with, that are your own age, that you actively choose to be with me? I mean, I know I drink too much, I have way, way too many screws loose, I’ve been to Hell, Purgatory, been possessed more times than I can count, I have major trust issues, PTSD.” He looked over at you again. “The list goes on and on. I’m all kinds of fucked up Sweetheart.” Your heart sank at Dean’s comments. You hated more than anything when he talked bad about himself, because there was no reason for him to do that.

“Pull over.” Was all you said.

Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Did I stutter? I said pull over.” Your voice was stern now, but it made Dean pull over on the side of the road.

“Dean, the fact that you even have to ask me why I’m with you shows me that you don’t actually realize or understand the reasons why I love you. You’re right, I could be with someone my own age. But you know what? I don’t want to. I’ve dated people my age, and they honestly suck. Hunters or not, men my age or even a year or two older have no fucking clue what they want in life. The only thing they’re positive about is wanting to fuck anything that has a pulse and gaslight women.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “My parents used to tell me, ‘not all men,’ and I knew that. You may have a slight case of alcoholism –”

“A slight case?” Dean interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He thought you saying that he only had a slight case of alcoholism was a tad too generous.

You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” Dean put up his hands in defeat. “As I was saying. You may have a slight case of alcoholism, are insanely prone to nightmares, get angry more often than you probably should, enjoy murder every now and then, have been to Hell and Purgatory and back, but wanna know something? I’ll take all of that, gladly! Because you are honestly the best man I could ever ask for. Yes, you have some flaws, but who doesn’t? I mean look at me for example.” You went into your jacket and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m someone who brings a hunting knife wherever they go like it’s a security blanket. No normal person does that Dean.”

“As you should. You need to be prepared at a moments notice.” He agreed.

“Exactly! No sane person would agree with me.” You said, putting back your hunting knife.

“Y/N, are you saying that part of the reason you’re with me is because I’m not sane?” He raised an eyebrow. He’s been called crazy or insane more times than he could count, so this wasn’t particularly newsworthy for him.

“I was thinking more…cautious.” You shrugged. “I mean…No, cautious isn’t the right word. You are cautious but…” You were really trying to come up with the right word to tell Dean, and you could feel it on the tip of your tongue. “What I’m trying to say is, any other guy would be freaked the fuck out if they saw me walking around with a hunting knife in my jacket. You? You couldn’t give two fucks. And you wanna know something else? I’ve worked with a lot of hunters over the years before I met up with you and Sam, who just looked at me and laughed because of my age, thinking that I don’t know the difference between rock salt and holy water.” You took one of his hands in yours intertwining your fingers. “You, not including Sam of course, accepted me as someone that actually knows a thing or two about hunting despite my age. You treated me like your equal. Hunter or not.”

You treated me like your equal. Your words rang in Dean’s mind. “Of course I treat you like my equal Sweetheart. What man wouldn’t? ‘Sides those other hunters and the Jayhawks spirit squad back there.” He chuckled, and you let out a small laugh too.

“Exactly. You’re a feminist icon.” You smiled.

“A feminist icon uh? Who knew?” Dean finally smiled.

“In all seriousness, I could give a rat’s ass about your age. You treat me right and my parents love you. What else could I possibly ask for?” You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you shot him another smile, but a softer one this time.

“Still amazed that your parents love me.” He said, starting to lean in closer to you.

“You treat their daughter right. That’s all they care about.” You confessed. When you had first told your parents about Dean, one of the first things they asked is if he was treating you right, they never asked about his age. And when they had met him, they still never commented on that fact, even when he wasn’t in the room.

He caressed your face. “I really am lucky to have you.” He smiled and leaned in fully to kiss you. “I love you so much.”

You smiled. “I love you more.”

He let out a slight chuckle. “Show off.”

“Always.” You responded, leaning in to kiss him again.

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

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thedramaticwriter1 · 3 months

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Stitch 'em up

(Dean x Reader)

Summary: An injured Dean comes back from a hunt.

Character count: 2.7k+

Warnings: Blood, a snarky, injured dean

A/N: Didn’t mean to take so long in between posts, sorry not sorry lol

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You sit on the dinning room chair with a cold beer sat in front of you, bouncing your leg up and down. Dean had called about an hour ago to tell you that his hunt was finished and he would be on his way home. The tone in his voice was tight and it had caused your stomach to sour.

“How bad was it?” You had asked over the phone the second he was done talking.

“Piece of pie, sweetheart. As usual” He replied and you heard him grunt in pain as he attempted to lower himself into the front seat of the Impala.

“Piece of pie my ass, Dean. I can basically hear how hurt you are over the phone” you replied, your grip on your phone tightening as irritation and worry coursed through you. He had told you to take a break on this hunt and relax at home, he could handle it himself. As usual, he was wrong.

“Hmm a piece of pie and your ass? Count me in” his voice dropping an octave at the suggestion, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

“Not now Winchester. Just get home so I can deal with you” and with that you hung up the phone.

Another hour you had been waiting for him since that phone call, beer untouched in front of you, starring at the bunker door waiting for him to stride on in. It felt like every minute dragged into a small eternity, each one lasting longer than the one before it. Ages passed by before you heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine and the opening and shutting of its door.

If you hadn’t known he was hurt before, you knew it now. It took him a solid 10 minutes to walk from the impala to the bunkers’ entrance, normally a journey that lasted a couple of seconds.

You watched as he slowly opened the door, hope in his features that maybe you had gone to bed already and he could get his ass chewed out tomorrow morning. Unfortunately for him, he’d get it right now.

His gaze searched the room until he spotted you sitting on the dinning room chair, his whole body slumping in defeat. Like a thief caught in the middle of the night. He wouldn’t even look you in the eye, knowing exactly what he would see.

Worry. Frustration. Fear. Anger. All of which had an equal grip on your mind at the moment.

“What happened?” You asked, not moving from your spot on the chair and not sugar coating this conversation.

The instant he heard your tone he knew he was in big trouble, and what does someone in trouble do? They butter up.

“Sweetheart, have I told you lately how beautiful I think you are?” He responded sweetly, attempting to bat his eye lashes at you while simultaneously trying to hide that he was holding one hand to his obviously injured left side.

“Dean…” you responded while slowly rising up from your chair. Your voice was low and lethal, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.

“Seriously, baby. You're the most beautiful woman on the planet..” he says as he smiles at you while attempting to straighten his hunched form. Still he’s trying to cover up his injuries, even though they are plain as day to you.

“Winchester…” you fling the name at him, half way to him. Already you can see red seeping around where his hand is pressed to his side. Your eyes go wide as you realize he’s still bleeding from an injury he received over two hours ago.

“Honestly Y/N, I’m the luckiest man al-“ is all he gets out as he attempts to take a step in the direction of the the hallway that leads to your shared bedroom in an attempt to escape your anger and doubles over as his legs give out from under him.

“Dean!” You yell as you rush towards him, close enough that you're able to catch him under his arms right before he hits the ground fully.

“Alive” he squeaks out pathetically while still trying to smile up at you. Knees on the ground and still trying to flirt his way his out of this.

Ridiculous. You bend down so you're able to reposition his arm to hang around your shoulders.

“Do you think you can walk towards the bathroom?” You question as you try to gauge how injured he really is.

“Let’s try the kitchen instead” he grunts out. This close to him, you’re able to see that he has no visible wounds on his face, but you wince when you notice his lips are a shade lighter than they normally are.

“Alright then, on the count of three. Ready? One, two, three…” you haul up as much of his weight as you can onto your own body and you both stand up straight. You stand there for a few seconds hoping he can get his bearings and won’t pass out on you. After you're confident he can make the small journey to the kitchen, you start walking. Slowly, step by step, you two head for the kitchen, you leading the way incase you need to catch him if his legs give out again.

“I’m guessing you're not gonna let this one slide, huh baby?” He says as you cross the threshold of the kitchen, almost to the table sitting in the middle of the room.

“Pfft, you’ll be luckily if I ever let you hunt again” you respond. Only half joking, but you’ll deal with that later. “I’m gonna sit you down on that chair okay?” You tell him as you near it.

“Sitting sounds good right now” he responds, wincing with each step you guys take. You finally reach the chair and you gently help him lower himself onto the seat. You move around slowly so that you're standing in front of him, still holding onto his shoulders to steady him. After some time, once you know he’s stable enough on his own, you turn towards the hallway and make a beeline to the bathroom in search of the first aid kit. It became a habit of yours to always have it stocked with the essentials, even going as far as having Sam create a fake hospital personnel ID for you so you could make your way into the local hospital and steal some of the supplies, knowing you’d use them eventually.

Rummaging though the cabinets, you finally locate the kit and rush back to the kitchen. Turning the corner, you see Dean resting his head on the table, his hand still holding pressure on whatever wound he has on his left side.

You reach him and grab his shoulder. “Dean, wake up” you say as you shake him awake, your worry only growing as he takes awhile to wake up. His eyes open slowly at your voice: “I'm not sleeping sweetheart. Just resting my eyes for a little”. You know that's bullshit. Who knows how much blood he’s lost at this point.

“I need to see the wound, Dean” you say sternly, not trying to give way to your concern, knowing there is a job to be done here.

“It’s fine baby, I just need a bandaid that’s all” he says as his eyes close again, not even having the energy to look at you while he talks.

“De, I swear to God, if you don’t show me right now, I’ll let you bleed out on this table” you say, having enough of this shit. You’re tired of him downplaying how serious this was, especially because he needed help.

“No, you wouldn’t” he says, knowing that there was no way in hell that you would let that happen, but still. You needed to get your point across. He finally opens his eyes to look at you and must see how worried you are, cause his lips turn down into a small, sad smile before attempting to remove his hand from his side.

“Let me” you grab the scissors from the first aid kit and make quick work of his shirt, cutting down the side near his injury.

“Hey, that was my favorite…” he responds but all protests die when he sees the face you give him. The shirt is the least of your concern.

Slowly and carefully, trying not to aggravate the wound any further, you peel his shirt off of him and throw it to the ground. You’re finally able to get a full view of it and you're unable to silence the gasp that manages to escape your lips.

From the bottom of his waist stretching across his ribs and ending right under his arm pit are five deep gashes, each one worse than the last. Staring at his mangled skin, one monster comes to mind that could inflict this kind of damage.

“Damn it Dean, you didn’t tell me it was a werewolf case you were on” you scold him as you assess the wounds. You grab the gauze and hydrogen peroxide from the first aid and you get ready to begin to clean the gashes.

“Yeah, well I didn’t want you to wo— Son of a bitch!” He yells as you move the gauze you're holding to the first wound, attempting to scrub the dirty and dried blood off.

“Don’t move or it’s going to hurt even worse” you tell him and you try and hold him still enough with your other hand so you can keep working. Eventually you’ve managed to clean out the first gash and it’s already begun to leak out fresh blood from the irritation from the gauze. You know you need to work quickly, not knowing how much blood he’s already lost on the drive here.

One down. Four to go.

“You try not moving while someone burns your skin off” he retorts, complaining about the hydrogen peroxide your applying, trying your best to avoid infection. You don’t even want to begin to think of how dirty a werewolves claws are.

“It doesn’t even burn you big baby” you say as he flinches at you when you begin to clean the second cut.

“I’m not a big baby” he pouts, closing his eyes, trying to concentrate on anything but what your hands are doing.

“Just save your strength and hush up” you tell him, knowing he needs to save all the energy he has left and not waste it on bantering with you. You continue working, washing the dirt and debris out of the second gash.

Two down. Three to go.

That becomes your mantra as your mind thinks of nothing else but cleaning these wounds.

Three down. Two to go.

You work in silence and Dean doesn’t try to talk again, the pain being too much for him right now. You also don’t attempt a conversation with him right now, knowing that the only words that would come out right now would be filled with anger and fear, and you don’t think you have the stomach for that right now.

Four down. One to go.

After an eternity, you are finally able to clean the last gash, now taking a look at the true wounds in their bloody glory. “You’ll definitely need stitches for these, De. They're too deep” you surmise. All he does is nod his head and you know that the pain is getting to him. “You want something for the pain?” You question, and move to the first aid kit when he nods his head. You pull out the painkillers and grab the bottle of whiskey that was resting on the table. “Both will help, trust me” you say and you hand him the pills and open the whiskey bottle for him.

He’s slow to move, not wanting to injure himself further. He gradually brings the pills to his lips, then the bottle, taking a few good gulps before handing it back to you.

“Do you want to wait till they kick in before I start stitching you up?” You ask him. He shakes his head slowly.

“Just get it over with” he responds, carefully laying his head back on the table.

And that’s what you do for the next hour. Stitch by stitch, you close the wounds that are scattered across his skin. He’s definitely going to have a few scars, but there’s nothing you can do about that now, and it’s not like scars have ever bothered him before. He even revels in them a little, physical proof of what he’s overcome. Half way through you can tell he’s still in pain, but you notice his breathing has gotten more even, his shoulders more relaxed, and you know the pain killers have started to kick in. You breathe a sigh of relief and keep working. Your mind goes blank as you focus solely on what’s in front of you.

Stitch, blood, stitch, some more blood, stitch, blood.

104 stitches and an empty whiskey bottle later, you finally finish. When he feels your hands lift from him, he stirs a little.

“You done?” He questions you. He slightly slurs his words as his eyes look up at you with his head still resting on the table, waiting for your response.

“Yeah I’m done” you respond as you finish dressing the wound. You finally stand up and look down at him. You're still upset at him for downplaying how injured he was, but seeing him now, some what whole and alive, you can’t help the knee wobbling relief that washes over you.

You reach your hand out and rub it through his hair, savoring the way it feels in your fingers. “I am so incredibly pissed off at you right now” you say weakly, but even as the words leave your lips, your eyes begin to water.

“I know. I’m sorry sweetheart” he responds, dragging his hand up to rest on your hip. “You can yell at me tomorrow, I promise” he says, squeezing lightly.

Your heart clenches at the gesture, and you smile through your tears. “Alright”, you respond as you wipe at your eyes. “Let’s get you to bed” you say as you move closer to him to help him stand up. You’re careful not to rub against his dressed wounds and grunt a little as you stand up with his arm wrapped around your shoulders. With small, slow steps both of you make it to your shared bedroom. You swing the door open with your foot and he turns on the light with his free hand. You make your way to the bed and gently lower him down.

“I’m gonna get you out of these” you tell him, nudging at his jeans, eyeing the blood and grime scattered on them, knowing he’ll be more comfortable if he changes.

“If you wanted me naked sweetheart, you could have just asked” he responds, looking up at you while attempting to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively.

“Ha-ha, very funny. I’d like to see you try any kind of move right now” you say, turning and walking towards his dresser, searching for a clean pair of shorts to change him in to. While digging through his drawers he responds: “Oh I have plenty of moves”. You look over and chuckle at him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to move off the bed, let alone do anything else. You walk back to him and begin taking his jeans off. Slowly dragging them down his legs, you search for any other wounds, glad to not find any. Once he’s changed, you help him lay under the covers and get comfortable. He’s already asleep by the time you move to the adjacent bathroom to change yourself. Once finished, you lay down with him.

You can’t stop yourself from staring at him, memorizing the already known freckles on his face. You reach to stroke the stubble he’s neglected to shave on the hunt, the movement causing him to stir.

“You know I love you, right?” He mumbles, not completely awake.

“I know. I love you too” you respond, moving to kiss his cheek. “You’re definitely gonna hear about this in the morning” you add, knowing that an argument tonight wouldn’t benefit anyone. You also were too grateful he was still in one piece to be fully upset with him right now.

“That’s alright baby. Yell at me all you want. The sex after our arguments is always the best” he says, grinning with his eyes still closed.

You scoff. “You’re horrible” you say, smiling back at him, knowing he’s exactly right.

#supernatural edit #supernatural x reader #supernatural prompts #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester #spn #dean x you #supernatural dean #angst #fluff #dean winchester x reader

519 notes · View notes

fanfictionalraven · 1 month

Text

Faithfully

Title: Faithfully

Song Inspiration: Faithfully by Journey

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, other SPN characters

Word Count: 4, 904

Warnings: Pregnancy

Author's Note: This was an anonymous request. Such a beautiful song and so perfect for Dean. Thanks for the idea Anon!!

Highway run into the midnight sun,

Wheels go ‘round and ‘round, you’re on my mind,

Restless hearts, sleep alone tonight,

Sendin’ all my love along the wire.

“Another?” The bartender asks Dean, pointing to the beer he’d been nursing for a while.

“No thanks. Work tomorrow,” Dean tells him, tossing some cash onto the bar. He and Sam had rolled into town a little earlier in the day. Some case Sam had found; a witch or shifter or…something. Dean couldn’t remember.

“Leaving so soon?” A sultry voice asks. Dean looks over to find a gorgeous, young blonde sliding onto the booth beside him. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and leans forward to highlight her ample breasts. A hand reaches for his knee but Dean catches her wrist.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. Not happening,” he tells her, letting her go. She rolls her eyes and stands, moving to her next target. Dean laughs lightly, shaking his head.

A few years ago, that would have been all the invitation he’d have needed. They would have wandered out to the Impala, maybe made it back to her place for a night of meaningless sex, and he would have returned to Sam first thing in the morning, satisfied. But all that had changed almost a year ago.

As he heads out of the bar and into the cold, he pulls his phone out, smiling at the screen. The picture that greets him is one of his favorites. It’s from the small “vacation” the two of you had taken only a couple months ago. It was one of Bobby’s old safe houses he’d told Dean about; a beautiful little cabin out by a lake. Dean had snapped the picture of you sitting on the small dock, feet dangling off the edge. You’d teased him about pursuing a career in photography after seeing it.

He finds your name with ease and calls as he climbs into the driver’s seat of his car. It rings twice before you pick up.

“Hey,” you answer. Dean smiles immediately at your voice.

“Hey,” he replies. “Bad time?”

“For you? Never,” you laugh lightly. He smiles even wider at your laugh.

“Still in Utah?” The familiar sound of the Impala’s engine roaring to life comes through the phone.

“Yea. Found the nest though. Taking it out tonight,” you tell him, as you lean back against your car.

“On your own?” Dean asks, voice laced with concern.

“No, Dean,” you say, smiling to yourself. “I’m not stupid, ya know?”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N,” he says. “Just…you know…”

“Awwww. You worried about me, Winchester?” You tease him, pushing off the car and walking to your trunk.

“Always,” he admits, almost too quietly for you to hear. Almost. Your smile softens as you open the trunk, glancing around at your weapons.

“You just calling to check up on me?” You ask, pulling a machete out to check the blade.

“No…just…missed you,” he confesses. You swing the machete around quickly to test it out. “Haven’t seen you since…”

“The cabin,” you finish. “I know. I miss you too.”

The two of you had been off and on for the majority of the time you’d known each other. It had mostly been a friends with benefits situation until last year. Suddenly, you were way more on than off. It was starting to feel like a real relationship. You hadn’t slept with anyone else and Dean said he hadn’t. You trusted him, of course.

“I’ve been thinking…” Dean starts, seemingly getting the subject away from…feelings.

“Haven’t hurt yourself, have ya?” You ask. You can practically hear Dean roll his eyes.

“Will you shut up? I’m trying to be serious here,” he tells you. You laugh and slam the trunk closed, machete in hand. Your cousin’s car pulls up, parking next to your own. You smile and wave at her.

“Serious. Right. Sorry. Go ahead,” you say.

“I was thinking you should come to the bunker,” he says. You smile and roll your eyes.

“I was planning to come by after this,” you tell him. He sighs and cuts the engine off, having reached the motel.

“No, Y/N. That’s not what I meant,” he says. You hold up a finger to your cousin, asking her to give you a minute when she gets out of the car. “You should move…into the bunker…with me.” You’re mid swing on the machete when he asks, causing you to freeze. The machete slips from your hand, landing near your cousin.

“Jesus, Y/N!!” She snaps. You wave a hand at her in apology as you walk away.

“What are you saying, Dean?” You asks. He lets out a chuckle.

“I’m saying that…I’ve really started to hate sleeping alone, sleeping without you. I hate waking up without you,” he starts. “Now, I don’t wanna tie you down or anything. Do your hunts, whatever you want. I just want the bunker to be…home.” You hold the phone away for a moment and breathe deeply. You were mere moments from clearing a vampire nest. You weren’t about to cry. Returning the phone to your ear, you can’t help but smile.

“Dean,” you say. “I’ll go anywhere you go. You’re already my home.” Dean smiles and closes his eyes for a second, thanking anyone who was listening.

They say that the road ain’t no place to start a family,

Right down the line, it’s been you and me,

And lovin’ a music man ain’t always what it’s supposed to be,

Oh, girl, you stand by me,

I’m forever yours,

Faithfully.

You walk into the kitchen of the bunker one morning, stretching. Sam’s already sitting at the table, his laptop open in front of him. You smile at him widely and walk over, kissing his cheek quickly.

“Morning, Sammy,” you tell him. He looks at you and laughs lightly.

“Good morning,” he says, watching as you walk over to the counter, humming. You pour yourself a cup of coffee, swaying to the music in your head. “You’re awful perky this morning.”

“Am I?” You ask, glancing back at him. He laughs and nods. You shrug, leaning against the counter.

“I guess you two had a good Valentine's Day?” He asks.

“We had a great Valentine’s Day,” you laugh.

“Well, I’m glad,” Sam tells you, looking back at his computer. Dean comes in, a smile to rival yours plastered on his face. He walks over and kisses you quickly before getting his own coffee. Sam looks at the two of you and starts to laugh. “Is that a hickey??” He asks. You and Dean exchange glances before Dean moves your hair from your shoulder, examining your neck briefly. He smirks.

“Looks like it,” he says. You laugh and shrug at Sam.

“I said it was great,” you tell him. Dean smiles and pulls you in for another kiss, your arms snaking around his neck.

“I found a case. If either of you care,” Sam announces. Dean sighs as he let you go and turns to his brother, taking a drink of his coffee. “Stacy Altman, 19 year old babysitter from Hudson, Ohio was murdered last night,” he says. Dean nods slightly.

“Oh, that blows. But if her name’s not Amara, how is that us?” He asks. You lean against Dean and he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Because her heart was ripped out,” Sam tells you both. You grimace and Dean nods.

“On Valentine’s Day? What is that, like an ironic werewolf? Alright, we’ll check it out. But first, I need bacon.” Dean gives your waist a squeeze then looks down at you. “You coming?”

“Think I’ll hang back, keep working this Amara thing,” you tell him, going to leave the kitchen. Dean smirks and gives your ass a quick smack. You let out a squeak of surprise and look back at him as you go into the hallway. You just hear Sam mutter something about the two of you being disgusting as you head back towards your bedroom.

Glancing over your shoulder, you close the door behind you before locking yourself in the bathroom. You look at yourself in the mirror, take a deep breath, then pick up the stick you had left on the counter earlier.

“Please be negative,” you mumble a quick prayer.

You and Dean had only been together for about a year. You were both hunters. God’s sister was currently on the loose and very much out to end the world. This had to be the absolute worst timing. The two of you hadn’t even discussed starting a family. It certainly wasn't on your radar and you couldn’t imagine it was on Dean’s either.

You’d bought the pregnancy test a few days ago when your period failed to make its monthly appearance. You hadn’t mentioned anything to Dean yet, didn’t want him freaking out over nothing. Cause that’s all this was, of course. Nothing.

The timer you had set on your phone goes off and you nearly jump out of your skin. You flip the test over and…

About a day later, Dean pulls the Impala into the garage of the bunker. He sighs as he cuts the car off and lays his head against the steering wheel. Sam looks at him and smiles a little.

“Dean, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s not like you cheated on her,” he says. Dean shakes his head slightly.

“Doesn’t feel different,” he says. “We just had this great day, things were going so well…”

“She won’t be upset, Dean. Come on,” he says, getting out of the car. Dean frowns then gets out as well. They both get their bags and then head to their respective bedrooms. Dean tosses his bag into the corner then sits on the edge of the bed, running his hands over his face.

You make your way down to the room nervously, wringing your hands. You’d been practicing your speech ever since you’d read the test. You had it all planned out and were absolutely prepared to tell Dean. That was until he’d told you they were headed home. The minute you’d received that text, your nerves had gotten the better of you. You had been running every possible bad scenario, each one worse than the last.

“Dean?” You ask, stepping into the bedroom. You frown when you see him so distraught. “What’s wrong??” You ask. He pats the spot next to him and you bite your lip as you walk over. He knows. He already knows and he’s breaking up with me. You sit down next to him and he turns to face you.

“This case…it was a witch, a curse…it was passed by kissing. I kissed the woman who had it and got it passed to me so she was safe,” he explains. You let out a breath and take his hands in your own.

“Dean, did you think I’d be upset about that?” You ask with a laugh. He sighs and shakes his head.

“I’m not finished,” he tells you. Your smile falls slightly and he looks at your hands. “The curse, it takes the form of your deepest, darkest desire and then that person or whatever kills you.”

“I’m…guessing that wasn’t me,” you say. He shakes his head. “Amara?” You already knew before he said anything else. From the moment she’d been freed from her cage, she had some weird connection to Dean. It had only been a few weeks since he told you that she’d kissed him and he couldn’t help but kiss her back. It stung, sure, but you knew it wasn’t Dean.

“I don’t want this, Y/N. I don’t want her. I just can’t shake this hold she has on me. Sitting here with you right now, I want nothing more than to kill her,” he starts quickly. “But when I’m around her, I can’t do anything.” You let his hands go and take his face gently, raising it up to meet yours. You press a soft, gentle kiss to his lips.

“I’m not mad at you, Dean. I know you love me. We’ll shake this Amara thing soon enough and get back to normal,” you assure him. “You and me. And…whoever else comes along.” He looks up at you, confused. You smile at him and stand, walking over to the desk. It isn’t until now that Dean notices the small gift bag sitting on it. “It’s a little late for Valentine’s now but…” You shrug and hand him the bag. He raises a skeptical eyebrow at you before pulling the pink and blue tissue paper out of it. He looks into the bag, then up at you quickly.

“Is this…” He stops before sliding the contents of the bag into his hand. His hands shake as he flips it around, trying to find the little screen for confirmation.

Pregnant.

“Oh my god,” he says, staring down at the test in his hand. “This is…”

A mistake. The worst possible timing. Not what I want at all. You brace yourself against the desk behind you, waiting for the death blow.

“This is…incredible,” Dean says finally, looking up at you. There are tears in his eyes threatening to spill over but his face changes the second his eyes meet yours. “Are you okay?” He asks, jumping up quickly. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he looks you over. “Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Which…is really saying something for us.”

“You’re happy,” you say quietly, looking at him. His brow furrows in confusion as he takes in your state.

“What? Of course I’m happy!! I mean…” He stops and shrugs. “Timing could be better but…a baby!!” He lets out a laugh and lifts you into a tight hug, spinning you around the room. You squeal and laugh as well, tears of sheer joy and relief streaming down your cheeks. “I’m gonna be a dad!! Sammy!!” He calls out, setting you on your feet. He grabs your hand and pulls you down the hallway quickly.

Circus life under the big-top world,

We all need the clowns to make us smile,

Through space and time, always another show,

Wonderin’ where I am lost without you,

3…2…1…*beep, beep, beep*

You stare into the microwave as the light goes out. Popping the door open, you grab the bottle and test the milk on your wrist. Perfect temp. You turn to go feed your three month old son and accidentally send the stack of neglected and dirty dishes crashing to the floor.

“Dammit,” you curse, setting the bottle on the counter. Kneeling down, you start to pick up the pieces of the shattered dishes and old food.

“Y/N?” Mary asks, stepping into the room. “What happened?” She comes over quickly to help. You glance up at her and shake your head before hissing in pain. You’d managed to cut your hand on a shard of glass. “Oh, Y/N.” Falling back against the counter behind you, your emotions overwhelm you.

“I can’t do this anymore, Mary,” you cry.

Dean and Sam were missing. They had taken on Lucifer once again and this time he was possessing the president. That was almost two months ago. For two months you've been struggling to take care of your newborn son on your own. Sure, you had Cas and Mary but it wasn’t the same. D.J. needed his father.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I…what do you need me to do?” She asks, handing you a dish towel. Wrapping it around your cut hand, you glance back up at the bottle.

“Could you feed D.J. for me? I just…I need a minute,” you tell her.

“Of course,” she says. She gives your arm a quick, reassuring squeeze before leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You lay your head back against the counter and close your eyes, allowing the tears to fall once again as you contemplate life as a single mother. You knew this life was risky, of course. You knew there was always a chance one of you wouldn’t come back from a hunt. You just didn’t expect it to be two months into actually being parents.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Cas asks, when he sees you. You shake your head, eyes still squeezed closed as you cry.

Cas frowns as he walks over, taking in the disaster that is the kitchen. He hesitates for a moment before carefully sitting down next to you. You lay your head over on his shoulder as the sobs rake through your body. Cas shifts awkwardly and you feel his arm come around your shoulders, comfortingly. The pain alleviates in your hand and you pull it from the towel, perfectly healed.

“Thank you,” you mumble between sobs.

“I wish there was more I could do,” he says. You wipe at your cheeks and shake your head.

“Please stop blaming yourself. You followed the plan,” you tell him, laying your head back on his shoulder.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, you don’t know how long. Eventually, you sit up and find a clean part of the partially bloodied towel to wipe your face. You rise from the floor and look at the mess at your feet before taking in the rest of the kitchen. You’d really let things slide lately. You sigh and shake your head, going to get the trash can. Mary comes back into the kitchen.

“No,” she says. You stop and look at her.

“What?” You ask, confused.

“You need to go get some rest. Take a shower. Take a nap. Refresh and reset,” she tells you, taking the trash can from your hand.

“Mary, there’s too much to do,” you respond, looking around at the kitchen again. It wasn’t just the kitchen either. You knew the library, war room, and bedrooms needed your attention as well.

“Castiel and I will take care of it,” she says, sending a pointed look to the angel as he gets up from the floor. He nods, looking at you.

“Of course,” he says. Looking between the two, you realize there’s no point in arguing. You were absolutely exhausted, barely able to get any sleep the last two months. Mary smiles at you, reassuringly.

“Shower. Bed,” she tells you. You sigh and nod, reaching for the baby monitor but Mary snatches it up quickly. “I’ve got him too.”

“Okay,” you surrender, holding your hands up.

You head down the hall and steal a quick peek in at your son, sleeping soundly in his crib. Continuing down the hall, you go into yours and Dean’s bedroom, closing the door behind you. One hour-long, steaming hot shower later, you slip into one of Dean’s t-shirts then under the covers. You don’t expect sleep to overwhelm you as quickly as it does. Your last thoughts are the same as they’ve been for the last two months.

Where are you, Dean?

And being apart ain’t easy on this love affair,

Two strangers learn to fall in love again,

I get the joy of rediscovering you,

Oh, girl, you stand by me,

I’m forever yours,

Faithfully.

Dean smiles politely at the waitress, taking his order. She was clearly flirting with him even though he’d told her about you and D.J. She walks off to put his order in, dinner for him and Sam to go, and he pulls his phone out to call you. It rings three times before you pick up.

“Hey,” you say, smiling. You’re sitting in the library, having just gotten D.J. down for the night.

“I miss you,” he says with a sigh. “This waitress won’t leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry. Is Dean Winchester complaining about being hit on?” You laugh. He shakes his head as he glances around, his eyes landing on the mechanical bull.

“I told her I had someone back home and a kid. She’s still flirting,” he says, watching as someone gets thrown off. He lets out a chuckle. “I was better than that,” he mumbles.

“What?” You ask.

“There’s a…a mechanical bull,” he tells you. You throw your head back, laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“I would pay to see that,” you tease him.

“Hey. I was awesome,” he assures you.

“Man. I can’t believe I missed that,” you say, still laughing. He smiles and shakes his head before someone catches his attention.

“Babe, I gotta let you go. Think I just got a lead on our case,” he says, standing up quickly. Your smile slips slightly and you nod.

“Be careful,” you tell him before he hangs up. You sigh and lean back in the chair.

“Dean’s been hexed. He’s losing his memory.”

That was the call you’d received from Sam earlier in the day. He thought it might be best if you were there to help. Thankfully, Mary had been in the neighborhood so she could keep D.J. for you. You’d peeled out of the garage, tires squealing as you headed for Arkansas, a 7 and a half hour drive. You make it in six.

You whip into the parking lot of the motel Sam had given you the address to and park next to the Impala. Grabbing your bag, you make for the door of the guys’ room and knock quickly. However, it isn’t Sam or Dean who answer the door but Rowena. Your shock gives way to anger almost immediately.

“Did you do this??” You snap, stepping up to her quickly. Her eyes widen in surprise before she smiles.

“Afraid not, dear,” she says. “But I am here to help.”

“Help? Are you kidding?” You ask, looking at Sam as he steps up behind Rowena.

“I know, I know. But...I didn’t know where else to go,” he explains. You sigh and glance around, spotting Dean sitting on one of the beds. He’s laughing at whatever he’s watching on the TV. He looks over and his eyes lock with yours before he smiles widely.

“Hi,” he says, standing. He remembered you. You smile as you walk over to him.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” You ask, your hands resting on his arms. He looks down at your hands then back at you.

“Much better now that you're here,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk. “I’m, ugh…I’m…”

“Dean,” Sam says, frowning.

“Yea. I’m Dean,” he says, introducing himself. Your smile fades as you take a step back. He didn’t remember you. It was worse than you’d thought. Sam’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder and you shake your head.

“I need some air,” you say quietly before leaving the room. Dean frowns as you go and Sam sighs, ushering him to the bathroom to talk. He explains the situation to him, reminding him of everything, everyone. Dean runs a hand over his face.

“So, after everything…that’s it. This is what nails me,” he says. Sam shakes his head quickly.

“No. No, no. Dean. I-it,” he stops and takes a deep breath. “It’s not gonna happen, all right?” Dean looks at him and Sam can see the fear in his eyes.

“Well, you just told me my whole life story. And I gotta be honest, man. I…I can feel it, slipping out of my head. I mean ganking monsters is one thing. But this…” He covers his face with his hands. “I forgot Y/N and my own son.”

“We’ll figure it out. We will,” Sam assures his older brother before standing up. He leaves the bathroom and finds you outside the door.

“Can I?” You ask, pointing to it. Sam nods and steps out of the way. You push the door open slightly and peek in. Dean is standing over the sink, staring at himself in the mirror.

“Okay. My name is Dean Winchester. Sam is my brother. Ugh, Mary Winchester is my mom. Cast - Cas is my best friend. Y/N is my wi…girlfr…” He stops and you sigh before stepping into the bathroom.

“Girlfriend,” you provide. He looks over at you then down, embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him, leaning back against the door. He walks over quickly and wraps you up in a tight hug as though clinging to your very memory for dear life.

“I don’t remember what he looks like,” he says quietly. You can hear the crack in his voice, the emotion choking him up. You’re fighting tears yourself now.

“Just like you. Your eyes and everything,” you say.

“What’s D.J. even stand for?” He asks, still clinging onto you.

“Dean Junior,” you tell him. He nods and looks down at you. “You didn’t really want to name him after you but I insisted. Cause I want him to be just like his father.” He smiles a little before leaning his forehead against yours. “We’re gonna fix you, Dean. I swear.” There’s a knock on the door and you glance back.

“Y/N, we need to go,” Sam says.

“I’m coming,” you call back to him. You look up at Dean once more and take his face in your hands. You stand up on your toes, closing the distance between the two of you, and kiss him. You had to tell yourself this wouldn’t be the last kiss the two of you would share. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he tells you. You can’t be sure if he actually means it or if he’s saying it back to spare your feelings at this point. Did he even remember how much you two loved each other? You smile at him before leaving the bathroom and following Sam out the door. Dean rushes out behind you to the desk inside the room. Rowena watches as he jots down a quick note and sticks it in his front pocket. He glances at her and she raises an eyebrow. “Just a reminder…”

The three of you get back to the bunker later the next day, Dean’s memories restored. Mary meets you all in the garage, D.J. in her arms. Dean practically bursts from the car and rushes over, taking his son. Mary smiles as she hands him over.

“Glad you’re better,” she says, patting his shoulder. Dean smiles at her before kissing D.J.’s forehead.

“Can’t believe I forgot him,” he says quietly. You smile as you walk past, heading towards the bedroom to put your bags away. Dean watches you go before looking at his mother. “I need your help.” She nods.

“Of course. With what?” She asks. He pulls a piece of paper from his front pocket.

“I don’t remember writing it but…it’s my handwriting. And I mean…” He trails off as he hands the paper to her. She reads it and her eyes widen before looking back up at him.

A few minutes later, Dean comes down to the bedroom and leans against the door frame, watching you. You’re busy taking the clothes from both of your go bags and putting them into the hamper to take care of later. You glance back and smile.

“I figured you’d still be spending time with D.J.”

“Wanted to spend time with you,” he says, walking in. He closes the door before walking over and wrapping his arms around you. You smile as you slip your arms around his neck. He leans in and kisses you gently, his hands sliding over your waist slowly. He pulls away too soon and you lean in again. He laughs lightly. “Hold on.”

“I don’t really want to,” you laugh.

“I wanna give you something,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him as he reaches into his pocket. He pulls a folded piece of paper out and holds it up between the two of you. “I wrote this at some point during the whole…hexed thing.” You take it, giving him a skeptical look. He seems nervous and you can’t figure out why. You unfold the piece of paper slowly.

Dean. If you survive this, marry Y/N.

It was scratched onto the paper quickly and sloppily but it was for sure Dean’s handwriting. You can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips as you look back up at Dean. He’s watching you, trying to read your face, as he reaches into his pocket once again. This time he produces a ring.

“Oh my god,” you whisper.

“I, ugh…I thought I was going to have to save up to buy a ring but,” he stops and shrugs. “Mom gave me hers. Didn’t even ask. Said she wanted you to have it.”

“Oh my god,” you say again, swallowing thickly.

“Marry me, Y/N?” He asks. You take a shaky breath as the tears finally start to fall.

“Yes,” you tell him. He smiles widely and pulls you in for another kiss. This time you pull away too soon, holding your left hand up. “I want my ring.” He laughs lightly as he looks at it.

“Dad had it inscribed. I didn’t know that. Mom just showed it to me,” he says. You take it and hold it up, trying to read the inside. You smile widely as you make out the two words. They couldn’t have been more true for the two for you. He takes the ring back and slides it onto your left hand before lifting you and tossing you onto the bed.

Forever yours.

****

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #reader insert #dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #request #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #faithfully #journey

321 notes · View notes

whimsyfinny · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 1566

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

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Please Read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 2

The journey to the bunker was pretty uneventful, with Sam and Charlie chatting amongst themselves in the front of the car whilst both myself and Dean sat miserably next to each other in the back like a couple of criminals who’d been arrested. The chains on my handcuffs jangled as I rubbed my sore knuckles; the skin raw, bruised and red from either my own blood or - most likely - Deans. As I did, I could feel a red hot glare burning into the side of my face from the older Winchester, as though he was in disbelief that I even had the audacity to feel any pain or discomfort right now as dark red scabs formed on his nose and cheek. We pulled up next to the bunker, and I didn’t get much chance to look at the surrounding scenery as the moment we were parked, the golden retriever duo up front hopped out, slammed their doors shut and threw ours open, Sam gently yet firmly grasping my elbow and pulling me to my feet whilst Charlie did the same for Dean. We were marched into the building and we soon arrived in what I assumed to be the kitchen. Sam pushed gently on my shoulder, urging me to take a seat at the table to which I obliged with Dean following suit and taking a seat opposite me. We stared each other down from across the table for a few moments, the atmosphere growing thicker by the second as his brilliant green eyes pierced mine.

“Enough the pair of you!” Charlie exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Look, I’ve got some things to say before we release you both back into the wild. It won’t take long,” she sighed and rubbed her temples. “I wanted to introduce you guys to (Y/n) because I thought you would get along! With your shared interest in hunting, bootcut jeans, rock music and most importantly - pie.”

Dean and I shot each other a quick glance before looking away again. Charlie continued.

“You’ve had one disagreement, and even though I was impressed by the performance it definitely didn’t warrant the carnage. You’re both adults, so act like it and stop bickering like children. You’re going to be living and working together now so you’re both just going to have to suck it up and move on.”

Sam stepped forward; “I agree with Charlie. (Y/n) you have no idea how much of a help you being here is going to be. We’ve been going around in circles for months and we really need a fresh pair of eyes. Plus you get free food and board, if that helps,” he grinned slightly trying to lighten the mood. I humoured him and softened my eyes, raising my eyebrows in acknowledgment to the pros of staying here.

“Right,” he clapped his hands together, “we’re going to remove the tape and you’re both going to be civilised. You promise?”

I gave Dean one final long, hard stare before nodding.

”Good,” Sams soft cool fingers grazed my cheek as he pulled up the corner of the tape, gently peeling it back until it was removed and I could finally take a deep breath. Meanwhile, Charlie approached Dean and in one swift movement ripped the tape from his mouth in under a second.

“FUCK!” He cried out as he tenderly touched his now extra sore swollen lips. I couldn’t help but smirk.

“Right, I’m going to go and get (Y/n)s belongings from the motel room she’s staying in and check her out then I’ll be right back with all her stuff. I’ll see you guys later!” And before I could even protest for her to take me with her, she’d turned on her heel and hightailed it out of the bunker, leaving Sam to undo our cuffs and set us free.

“That bitch,” I sighed, huffing a strand of hair out of my face. Sam knelt before me, that kind look in his eye ever twinkling.

“(Y/n) I promise you that you're safe here. It’s warded to the teeth and full of everything we need to survive. We’ve got you,” he patted my knee before taking my hands in his, using a small key to finally undo the cuffs right before they clattered to the floor. I leant down to pick them up, and by the time I’d sat back up to place them on the kitchen table, he was already beside Dean doing the same for him. His own cuffs removed and rubbing his wrists, he stood, looking from me to Sam a few times before speaking.

“Well I’ve already suffered enough today so I’m going to spend time coming up with a better excuse as to why I look like this,” he gestured to his beaten face and turned to leave, mumbling a quick ‘see ya later’ to Sam before leaving the kitchen. Sam stood awkwardly for a second, before declaring that he was going to get some lunch for everyone and also scurried away, leaving me completely alone in alien territory. I was still sat at the table as I began to look around.

This place was a dump.

How did these grown ass men live in conditions like this? The dirty dishes were piled so high that it was a surprise they hadn’t toppled over yet. Empty beer bottles cluttered the table and countertops, the bin was overflowing with bulging bin bags dumped right next to it without being taken outside and the smell was starting to make me feel a little nauseous. How does Sam expect us all to eat and live together in conditions like this? It was like living with a couple of wild animals. After a few silent moments to myself I released a breath I’d been holding whilst I pondered. I ran my hands through my hair and laughed at myself in disbelief. I’m gonna have to clean the fucking kitchen. Without giving it a second thought and running the risk that I’d change my mind, I scooped my hair into a high ponytail using the bobble on my wrist and pushed up my sleeves, finding a pair of rubber gloves under the sink. Let’s clean this bitch.

In the space of about an hour and a half (a gruelling hour and a half), I’d washed and dried the dishes, putting them away in their respective places, taken out all the trash and lined the bin with a fresh bag, scrubbed and disinfected every surface and had even mopped the floors. The smell of rotting trash was dissipating and the urge to claw off my own skin had gone. I’d propped the mop against the wall and stepped back to admire my hard labour when I heard a door open and close, the entering footsteps heading my way. Sam emerged into the kitchen, a stunned look on his face as he walked to the table slowly, placing about 6 bags of ‘groceries’ on its surface. His mouth opened and closed a few times like he was searching for the right things to say.

“You’re welcome,” I cut in, hoping to help him find his words.

“Yeah, thank you! I’m sorry, I didn't know what to say - you really didn’t have to do this. It’s embarrassing that you were even put in a situation where you felt you had to,” he grimaced a little, only now realising what a horror show it was that they were living in. “But seriously thank you, I really appreciate it,” he smiled and I couldn't help but smile back. Sam was sweet and easy to like - unlike his Neanderthal brother. I felt like I could trust him.

I peeled my gloves off, threw them in the bin and approached the kitchen table where Sam was pulling out a case of beer.

“Here, you deserve one of these,” he said, handing me one. The bottle was nice and cool on my hot fingertips, my warm skin instantly relishing the coldness.

“Thank you,” I smiled before popping the cap and taking a long, well deserved drink. I savoured the moment, genuinely appreciating Sam’s gesture. Although all nice moments comes to an end, and soon Dean was striding into the room bold as brass, seating himself at the table and helping himself to a beer without so much as a hello. It wasn’t until he’d drained half the bottle in one gulp that he realised the kitchen was clean. He grinned and looked at his brother.

“Hey, nice job Sammy! It looks great in here, I owe you one,” he raised his bottle as if making a small toast whilst Sam’s eyes flicked to mine.

“Uh, Dean… this wasn’t me. You need to thank (Y/n) for that,” Deans grin faulted slightly as he looked between the two of us before it returned. I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows in suspicion. His forest green eyes pierced into mine as he almost purred his next sentence.

“Well, Sammy, it looks like we’ve bagged ourselves a maid. Does she cook too?”

I slammed my bottle on the table, much like I did earlier. Only Sam flinched.

“I’m not your fucking maid,” I snarled, resenting that shit-eating grin on the older Winchesters lips. He chuckled, the sound coming deep from within his chest as he rose to his feet.

“Sure thing sweetheart.”

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Taglist: @creative-writing92 @suckitands33

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Up Next:

Chapter 3

#dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x female!reader #enemies to lovers #Dean Winchester enemies to lovers #eventual smut #slow burn

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wellofdean · 2 months

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Thinking about @luckshiptoshore and her liveblog of watching Supernatural and how much I love following it and how great it is to watch someone just fucking ENJOY the show...

And then, there were a couple of people in my Discord who love the fic, but have never watched the show, and folks in there were trying to convince them that it was worth watching (duh!) and that knowing the show by heart makes the fic so much better and like yes, again... DUH! And then I was suddenly overcome with such a feeling of ENVY for all the people who still have the chance to watch Supernatural for the first time already knowing what happens in the end.

I mean, I watched 14 years of it in real time (after downloading and bingeing season 1) and at least I was clever enough not to be in the fandom trenches that whole time, and just enjoyed it for what it was, but the end broke my brain, and changed the whole show for me.

Because, like, here's what happens in Supernatural by the end: Dean and Cas are in love. It was not subtle. Dean can't say it because he never has a single moment of not being up to his pretty, pretty eyeballs in dealing with the ongoing and constantly multiplying trauma of being the man his father raised him to be, and god's specialest boy to boot, but in the end, Cas finally does just fucking say it. Not only that, he waits until he can use it to save Dean, and show him once and for all in an incontrovertible, undeniable way exactly how deeply and truly loved and SEEN he is.

When you watch it knowing that, knowing that the the whole story is going to end in that stupid bunker dungeon with Cas telling Dean who he is and dying to save him, the whole thing just HITS DIFFERENT, because the Dean of season one with his outcast liminality and pretty, pretty lips is the poor, lonely, weird boy who will one day be loved like that by Castiel, an angel of the lord -- an impossible Eldritch being who learned what love and selfhood are from closely observing Dean.

The consensus amongst most Supernatural fans is that it is trashy and bad and that its all evil queerbaiting, but I would contend that it's actually deeply entertaining, culturally rich and interesting (yes, even its flaws and missteps), often impressively well-written and acted, never puts on any airs about being prestige television or high art, but still manages to be ultimately epic and somehow sublime, and that it's a queer story, about queer love saving the universe, and it is so, so worth watching.

Like, my brainworms are not 'they strung me along all that time and then never let them make out', by brainworms are 'they told us so many times and in so many big and small ways, and now I need to watch every bit of it again and again and again so I can finally REVEL IN IT (and, friends, that is the Supernatural rewatch journey: realising it was ALWAYS THERE). My brainworms aren't 'but does Dean reciprocate??' they are: 'of course he loves Cas, and of course Cas knows that Dean loves him, and the one thing Cas can't have? That's just his chance at happiness and a soft epilogue with and for Dean, because Cas, impossible, cosmic, Eldritch being Cas, traded his chance at happiness for his family's lives and sacrificed himself for love of his son and Dean, because that is what you do when you love someone, and what he has watched Dean never stop doing for even a minute of his beleaguered life.'

And then, Dean dies (yes, it's stupid), and he cannot just go to heaven, drink a beer and hang out, he needs to climb into his magic soul vehicle, hit the axis mundi and tear the universe up looking for his angel and his happy ending in The Winchesters? Fuck me.

And like, it's the most romantic, and devastating story I have ever been told? And I love it so much?

#supernatural #anti-trashnatural agenda #I am sometimes overwhelmed by how much I love that story #and dean #fuck I love dean #and castiel #angel of the lord

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 4 months

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I was wondering if I can request a sam Winchester x fem reader smut and fluff, where maybe he's an alpha and he and Dean are out hunting or something and maybe they get ambushed but then are saved by omega reader, and Sam is head over heels for her from the beginning, but she is unsure cause of comments in her past saying that's she's weak or something and then maybe after a while he asks her out on a date and it goes well and they keep seeing each other and eventually smut

.⋆｡Something Happens And I’m Head Over Heels｡⋆.

Alpha!Sam Winchester x omega! plus size reader

When a mysterious hunter swoops in and saves the Winchesters at the last second, Sam falls in love at first sight but she’s been hurt by alphas like him before.

Warnings: smut, a/b/o, angst, monster death, canon typical violence, injuries, parental abuse/neglect (not just for the Winchesters), mention of parental death, consent checks, oral (m and f receiving), no penetration, confessions, sort of mutual pining, he falls HARD

WC: 6.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The coppery smell of blood was now almost permanently etched into Sam’s mind. He had smelt blood straight from a wound and even blood that was weeks old but nothing had ever smelt like this before. The scent was so thick he could practically taste it. He gagged on the stale air silently, still cautious of how much noise he was making.

The walls of the abandoned warehouse were painted a rusty brown and when Sam looked closer, he immediately shut his eyes, trying to repress his nausea- it was dried blood, caked on so thick it looked like paint. His grip on the machete in his hands tightened until his knuckles were a deathly white.

Get in. Take out the vamps. Get out. He repeated to himself as he continued his journey into the heart of the nest.

From what he and Dean had predicted there were, at most, 6 vamps in the nest. And while normally that number would constitute calling in backup, Sam’s rut was only a few days away so he had the strength of three grown (and frustrated) men so they went in alone.

Sunlight leaked through the boarded up windows, providing the only illumination to guide his way. Vaguely, he could hear his brother’s footsteps from the other side of the otherwise silent building. Soon, the hall opened up before him, revealing a huge room absolutely full of bodies, both dead and undead.

His heart pounded in his ears as panic quickly overtook him. Their calculations were very very wrong- there were close to a dozen vampires littered around the room, each with at least three drained corpses around them. His hazel eyes went wide as he caught sight of Dean, only now entering the room on the other side.

He saw as Dean’s chest hitched, the situation dawning on him. They made eye contact and with an almost investable nod to each other, then slowly began to back out of the room. Even with Sam’s temporary strength, there was no possible way they could kill that many vamps safely.

His whole body was tense, both rearing for a fight and ready to run at a moment’s notice.

Clang!

The pipe appeared from thin air, practically materialising before him just as Sam put his foot down. The metal spun away from him before he realised what was happening and slammed into the hollow siding of the hallway.

Everything froze and Sam held his breath. “Looks like we got some fresh meat boys!” He cursed under his breath and spun around just quickly enough to see the vamps rising to their feet, eyes blazing with bloodlust.

The plastic handle of his machete suddenly seemed incredibly slippery as Sam readjusted his grip on the weapon. They couldn’t kill this many vamps at once and they certainly couldn’t outrun them but they definitely weren’t going down without a fight.

Debris crunched under his heel as Sam planted his feet, his pupils contracted to a pin drop and his chest rumbled with a deep growl. His scent turned sour with his fury. “Bring it.”

His blade whistled as it slashed through the air, easily biting into the neck of the first vamp. Its head separated cleanly but Sam’s follow through was too long and quickly, the second darted towards him, razor sharp teeth bared.

With a snarl, he planted a hand on its chest and shoved the monster back, giving him just enough room to plant the blade into its shoulder. It howled in pain but continued to charge forward, yellowing fangs glinting in the low light.

Sam’s shoulder jerked as he pulled the blade back out but before he could complete a second swing, another vamp threw itself towards his legs, quickly knocking him off balance. Fear prickled across his skin as his back slammed into the metal wall. There was a crunch and then pain shot up his right shoulder.

He tried to curse but all that escaped him was a feral growl that echoed through the building. A bulk of the nest now crowded the hallway, each pushing and shoving, trying to get at the hunter. Fangs sliced into his calf as more hands grabbed at him, ripping the blade from his hold.

Just as his desperate struggle to get free seemed fruitless, light filled the hallway and the dark figure of a woman was silhouetted against the afternoon sun. The vamps barely had time to react to the burn of the light before her arm cocked back and she threw a pipe into the middle of the crowd.

As soon as the thick metal hit the dusty ground, it set off an explosion, sending thick almost black liquid all over them. It sunk into their flesh, spreading through them like molten lava. There was a moment where everything froze and then a sound erupted from the vamps.

They screamed in pain as they clawed at their skin. Suddenly Sam was free but it was not his blade that struck down the suffering vamps.

She moved with more grace than he ever thought possible, her own machete almost dancing through the air as she effortlessly operated their heads from their bodies. Within seconds, the warehouse was silent once more, leaving behind only the smell of blood and the most delicious scent Sam had smelled in his life.

Without a word, the hunter wiped her blade clean with the shirt of one of the vamps and slid it back into the sheath strapped to her plump thigh. “You hurt?” But all he could focus on was the little smear of blood on her full cheek, oh how badly did he want to reach out and wipe it away with his thumb.

Her eyebrows scrunched and gave him a once over. “That’s a pretty gnarly bite you got there, can you walk?” She reached a tentative hand to him, quite obviously taking note of the husky scent of his rut, and it was all Sam could do not to snatch it up and press his nose to the pulse point on her wrist.

She easily helped him back to his feet, laying a steadying touch on his toned stomach when he began to sway. His heart flipped and the world shrunk to just her. “Sammy!”

Her head turned to look where his brother’s voice had come, exposing her scent gland to the alpha who couldn’t help but take in a deep breath, eager for another whiff of what he thought his heaven smelled like. Old books, campfire, home.

“Sammy, huh?” She teased, the beginnings of a smile tugging at her lips. His knees buckled. Yet before he could come up with a semi-articulate response, Dean barrelled around the corner, eyes wide and full of fear.

The biting scent of adrenaline came off of him in waves and the mysterious woman immediately cringed, her nose scrunching. Anger flared in Sam’s belly, his alpha screamed at him to pull her away from whatever was causing her such discomfort, even if it was his brother.

As soon as Dean saw Sam, his body sagged with relief. “Shit that was a close one.” He groaned but quickly, his tone changed when he caught sight of the plump woman standing next to his brother. “I see you found a friend, a very attractive one. Dean Winchester, and that is my gigantor baby brother.”

He easily slid up to her, his green eyes hungrily tracing her soft curves before settling on her face. Sam knew that move, he had seen it hundreds of times before but it was only now that he had a problem with it. “Y/N. You boys should know better to take on a whole nest alone.”

Dean actually looked sheepish at her scolding and Sam’s alpha preened. “Strong omega. Perfect mate.” He purred.

“Well, we thought there were less. How the fuck did you kill all of ‘em so quick?” He looked around at the bodies in amazement, giving the one closest to him a kick. The skin where his boot touched crumbled into ash.

“Pipe bomb filled with blessed dead man’s blood.” She replied like it was obvious.

“Blessed?” Sam croaked out. Y/N shivered at the sound of his voice but quickly suppressed it as she spoke again.

“Like how you would bless holy water.” Dean nodded in approval, the hand holding his machete going slack as he forced himself to relax with the danger gone. But Sam still felt incredibly wound up, especially as his brother approached her.

“That was badass, for an omega that is.” Sam didn’t miss the way she flinched, however minute it was.

“Yeah.” She smoothly took a step back from him, her body twisting beautifully as she moved towards the exit. Unconsciously, Sam began to follow. He needed to be close to her, to soothe the ache in his chest.

Dean gave a quizzical look to his brother but he was ignored as Sam limped behind her, his alpha slowly stealing control from him, rut now dangerously close.

“So do you wanna go get a drink with us to celebrate, I think we owe you a round.” But she waved him off as she walked to her slightly busted up truck. He watched the way her hips swayed, the dark material of her jeans perfectly hugging her ass in a way that made Sam’s mouth go dry.

“Bars aren’t my thing. Maybe I’ll catch you another time. Try not to get yourselves killed.” Her machete is thrown into the passenger seat with far more force than necessary, making the hollow siding reverberate as she climbed in after it.

The engine roared to life, quickly breaking Sam from his trance. But before he could even take one step towards the truck, she was gone, leaving behind only echoes of her scent.

——————

She couldn’t stop thinking about that alpha no matter how hard she tried to forget him, even though it had been weeks since the unfortunate encounter. There was just something about the way his big hazel eyes had looked up at her as she saved his life or the sound of his voice. But most of all, his scent was almost seared into her mind, a delicious mixture of gunpowder, pine forest and chocolate.

Never in her life had she smelt something as good as that and it was slowly killing her. Alphas were dangerous, alpha hunters doubly so. They were violent and aggressive and more pigheaded than she ever thought possible, and they hated omegas.

Sure, they liked fucking them but they refused to claim them. Omegas were just rut bunnies, a tool to get off so they could go back to killing monsters. And an omega hunting? She had been laughed out of more hunter bars and backups than she could count. So it was best to just forget him, she didn’t think she could bear it if he was like the others, if he was like his brother.

Y/N swallowed thickly, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. Even his name was pretty, Sam like some guardian angel or an ancient warrior. He was strong and tall and packed with muscle. Her omega constantly reminded her of what a perfect mate he was, how he could provide for her and her pups, how safe he made her feel.

With every mile she drove away, her soul burned, urging her to turn the truck around and drive straight back to him. But her willpower was stronger… for now at least.

But until that day came, she would do what she did best- hunt.

——————

“C’mon Sammy, you’ve been sulking for weeks. She was just an omega!” Sam glared at his brother over top of his beer, the fifth of the night. He couldn’t just forget her, not when he had never met anyone like her before, not when the very thought of her made his heart clench and butterflies fill his stomach.

It had been easy to learn all about her from Bobby and Rufus. They both sung her praises, describing her as immensely intelligent and well versed in all sorts of lore as well as being cunning enough to escape a den of werewolves with only a screwdriver and a half-empty lighter. With every story they told and little fact they divulged, Sam fell even deeper in love with her.

She was an enigma of the best kind.

“You’re being an asshole Dean, what exactly does her presentation have to do with her value as a hunter?”

“Jesus Sammy.” Dean scoffed. “What crawled up your ass and died?” Sam rolled his eyes and stood from the old booth.

“I’m going back to the motel, text me if you aren’t coming back tonight.” He walked out of the bar before he could hear Dean’s protests.

The biting winter air calmed his anger some but that simmering disappointment in his brother was still there. Y/N was not just an omega yet for some fucking reason, no one else agreed. It made his blood boil.

Stuffing his hands into his jacket, Sam began the short walk back to the motel. A part of him wondered if Dean was right, they had only met once and it was for barely ten minutes before she was off again. But so much more of him wondered why she was gone, why they had never seen her before or even heard of her. She was a great hunter so why did no one call her for backup.

With his head down and lost in his thoughts, the tall hunter didn’t notice the familiar truck parked in the spot by his shared room until he almost walked right into it.

The tip of his boots stopped right before the back tire as he gazed at the vehicle in amazement. She was here. His eyes darted along the row of rooms, searching for any indication of where she might be. His pulse sped up as he finally caught a whiff of her dizzying scent.

His heart jumped as he realised that it was coming from the room right next to his, a coincidence that he would be eternally grateful for. Warmth bloomed from his chest as he cautiously raised his hand and knocked on the ancient looking door.

There was a shuffling from the other side and then slowly, the door creaked open. Sam groaned softly as a fresh wave of her scent washed over him. It was raw and overpowering and immediately went to his cock.

Her eyes were bleary with exhaustion as she looked at the alpha on her doorstep. “Sam?” His chest rumbled with a pleased sound at the way she said his name. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m in the room next door.” His eyes wandered down the length of her curvy body which was now only covered by an oversized shirt and some fluffy socks. One of her hands nervously tugged on the hem of the shirt in an attempt to cover more of her naked thighs.

She shuffled her feet nervously as if contemplating something before she stepped to the side. “You can come in if you want.”

There was not an ounce of hesitation in Sam’s mind as he stepped into her room. His chest puffed out in pride at being allowed to enter the omega’s space. She followed behind him after locking the door but still kept her distance. She was obviously wary of him and for the life of him, Sam couldn’t understand why.

An awkward silence settled over the pair, neither one of them knowing how to begin the conversation. She avoided making eye contact as the slightly older hunter forced himself to stop looking at her thick thighs.

“Why-“ “I-“ They both spoke at the same time. Y/N laughed softly under her breath and Sam watched as she finally relaxed, taking a seat at the edge of her bed. His own smile began to grow and took the liberty of sitting opposite her on the arm of the couch.

The room was so small that their knees were barely inches away from each other but neither wanted to move any further away. “Bobby said you had asked about me.” She said bluntly if not a little bashfully. A blush spread across Sam’s face and suddenly he felt incredibly small.

“Yeah I did.” He admitted. “I was curious about you.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Why?”

Taking a deep breath, he rested his elbows onto his knees, making himself as small as he could. “You just… captured me, I’ve never met a hunter like you before and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to know more.” She sat straight up as her eyes narrowed.

“You wanted to know how an omega could hunt.” She snarled.

“No! No, you being an omega has nothing to do with it. I asked Bobby because well, I couldn’t believe how clever you were. I mean come on, blessed blood? I don’t think anyone else has come up with that idea. You took out that whole nest by yourself!” He rushed to defend himself. He laid a large palm onto her knee as if that could drive his point home but all it really did was make his mind go blank except for the thought of just how soft her skin was.

Sam expected her to lurch from his touch but to his surprise, Y/N nudged her knee even closer to him, albeit slightly warily. “It wasn’t the whole nest.” She muttered shyly with her head tilted downwards, exposing her collar. Sam’s alpha grumbled happily at the submission but he swallowed the noise down, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“Even if it wasn’t, we- I would have been dead without you and that’s why I wanted to find you, to learn about you because I wanted to thank you and maybe, get to know you a bit more.” The expression on her face grew more pensive as she looked into his eyes.

“You don’t care that I’m an omega?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I don’t care about that, but that part has nothing to do with you hunting.” His fingers curled into her flesh, sending a fresh wave of her scent through the room. “You being an omega is far from a detriment in my eyes.” His voice dropped lower, becoming husky and laced with arousal.

Her thighs squeezed together, trapping his hand between her warm legs. Sam leaned forward even more, their foreheads almost touching. He watched as her gaze flicked to his lips. “You can’t mean that.” She whispered but it was directed at herself, as if she were trying to remind herself of something.

With his free hand, the alpha gently brushed his fingertips along her jaw before his palm settled against the soft swell of her cheek. “You’ll be like all the other alphas out there.” But still, she leaned closer, resting her forehead against his.

“I promise I’m not.” Her fingers tentatively worked their way into the buttons of his flannel and Sam’s heart skipped a beat. The silence that fell between them now was far from uncomfortable. Y/N took in a deep breath, swallowing down the alpha’s scent before she groaned quietly.

“You wouldn’t stop an omega from hunting?” Sam shook his head. “You wouldn’t force them to be subservient?”

“Never.” He vowed as his lips brushed against her cupid’s bow. Her chest hitched.

“What about claiming?” Sam’s hand skirted higher up her legs until the calloused tips of his fingers disappeared beneath her night shirt. Heat radiated from her core as slick soaked through her thin panties.

Sam was almost delirious with lust and apparently, Y/N was the same. Her pupils were blown wide, the blackness consuming the natural colour of her irises. “Hypothetically?” She nodded, knowing that this conversation was veering into far from hypothetical. “Only when they’re ready, and I will be fine if they never are.”

She smiled widely and just as she leaned forwards to kiss him, there came a pounding on the door. “Sam!! You in there?!” At the sound of Dean’s voice, she threw herself back as if she were a child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Sam actually whined as his hands were ripped from her skin. “Yeah Dean.” He growled, quickly standing and shielding her half-naked body through the door was still firmly shut.

“Sheriffs just found another body, we gotta move.” Y/N sat up on the bed, her interest now focused on the case.

“Was it the pawn shop owner’s wife?” She piped up.

There was a pause and then, “Y/N? Damn Sammy, you need an extra 10 minutes? Cause we definitely have time if you do.”

“Dean.” Sam warned, but the omega’s soft touch upon his hand stopped him in his tracks.

Y/N’s eyes blazed with a fire he had never seen before as she lifted herself from the now crumpled bed sheets. Her gaze was hard and firmly set upon the door as if she could see right through it to the idiotic alpha outside. Sam watched as the omega melted away and was replaced by the hardened hunter.

“Go. I’ll catch up with you two later. I have something to take care of.” Sam’s heart dropped to his stomach and he opened his mouth to protest, to insist that she come with them. Not because he thought she needed any sort of protection but that he didn’t think he could bear to be away from her for even a second. But then her glare settled on him.

He tried to turn his wrist to capture her hand in his but she pulled back from him quickly. “You should stay here, where you’re safe.”

He would never admit to it, but Sam cowered, shrinking in upon himself as Y/N’s lip turned downwards. “Go.” She snarled and before he could even comprehend what her sudden change in demeanour meant, Sam was out the door and his alpha howled with shame.

She rejected him and he had no clue how to fix it.

——————

Somehow, through the incredibly awkward tension and the less-than-perfect hunt, all three of the young hunters now found themselves in Bobby’s living room, a heavy air between them.

Y/N nursed a beer and a slightly swollen cheek as well as the angriest look on her face. Even Dean cringed away from her line of sight like a little boy escaping a scolding. “Any of you wanna tell me exactly what happened out there?”

Bobby shoved an ice pack into her awaiting hand before leaning against the desk at the far end of the room. “Just bone-headed alphas getting in my way.” She snarled and took a pull of her drink, her scent now bitter like stale coffee.

“Y/N, now’s not the time.” Bobby sighed, his head dropping between his shoulders. The omega turned her glare to him but he did not falter away like the boys did. “Hunts are always gonna be tough but you gotta work with the cards you’re dealt with and trust your partners. And these boys are the best you could ask for, alphas or not.”

Her growl echoed through the room before she slammed her beer down and stormed off. A bedroom door slammed shut soon after, rocking the foundations of the house. “That girl.” Bobby muttered, shaking his head mournfully.

Sam looked up the stairs longingly, part of him wanting to follow after her but also knowing that doing so might only worsen the already rocky relationship between them.

“What is her deal anyway?” Dean sat forward on the couch, planting his elbows onto his knees. Bobby’s hand curled around his tumbler of whisky, knuckles turning pale.

“You boys weren’t the only ones to grow up under the thumb of an obsessed hunter but the only difference between you is, she had both parents. Both alphas, both life-long hunters, and both believed that omegas were beneath them in every way. She was bait.”

Sam and Dean sucked in a breath, they both knew what that meant. Omegas would be stripped of all weapons or protective symbols and then sent into bars that vampires frequented or told to go for a walk in the woods where werewolf dens were. Their scent was the sweetest and the most appetising. Most of the time, the omega would make it out with minimal injuries but there were some hunters out there who would let whatever monster they were tracking down have a little treat before killing them.

“She got smart, learned how to gank monsters using whatever she could find and yet her parents took all the credit. They got lazy, letting her do the hunt while they went to go drink or do whatever the fuck else besides trying to protect their daughter. And one day, when she was recovering from a witch’s curse, they decided to get the hunt done themselves. They were slow and stupid. Y/N found them two days later, completely ripped apart. She’s been hunting alone ever since.”

“Shit.” Dean leaned back on the couch, running a hand through his cropped hair. “I figured she was just bitter about an ex or something. I- Sam!” The youngest Winchester sprang to his feet and before anyone could stop him, he pounded up the stairs and threw open her bedroom door.

Y/N sat against the headboard, eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving with barely controlled panic. Sam didn’t hesitate to yank her into his arms, forcing her face into the crook of his neck as he held her tightly. She thrashed against him, her warning snarls only ceasing when she finally inhaled his scent.

Tentatively, she placed her hands on his muscular back as Sam’s arms tightened around her shoulders, his head resting on top of her own. “You don’t need to worry anymore, omega. I’m right here.” Sam pressed his lips to the crown of her head, giving her a gentle kiss. “No one will ever hurt you again, not while I’m around.”

Her soft body slowly relaxed into him and the alpha could feel the weight being eased from her shoulders. “You can’t know that, it’s an impossible promise to make.”

Sam’s left hand slid up the soft curve of her arm, his fingertips gently brushing along her neck before settling on her jaw. He tilted her head up just enough so that she could meet his hazel eyes. His gaze flickered over her face, settling on her lips for a moment too long before finally looking longingly into her wide eyes.

“Because I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, happy and loved, no matter what.” Her breath hitched and for a moment, doubt crept into Sam’s mind. “Because you deserve so much more than what life has given you and I want to fix that.” He rushed to add on, hoping that she would not reject him once more.

But then, Y/N rocked forward and captured his lips in the best kiss of Sam’s life.

The world blurred around them as their lips danced together. Sam could taste the beer she had drunk but also something else- something that was just her. His hand fell to her neck making her moan loudly into his mouth as his thumb accidentally brushed against the raised skin of her scent gland.

His knees buckled as her scent suddenly filled through the room, emptying his mind of everything except her. Her nails dug into his back, the kiss quickly became something more.

“Wait wait wait.” Sam reluctantly ripped himself from her but she wasn’t letting go that easily. She pulled him back into another kiss which he was barely able to pull away from. “Wait babygirl. Are you sure you want to go any further?” His right hand, which she now realised was low on her back, the tips of his fingers brushed against the swell of her ass, pressed her further into his toned stomach.

Y/N whined trying to chase his lips but a warning growl from Sam had her obediently silent. “I need a clear answer, omega.” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Please, I want you, all of you.” She managed to get out through the heavy lump of arousal in her throat. Sam smirked, his alpha preening at her desperation and her acceptance that he was hers. Yet he still did not kiss her again. Part of him wished for her to beg, to scream and cry for him after her rejection.

His thumb pressed down onto her scent gland, immediately making her eyes grow hazy. “Then prove it.”

Her hands flew to his belt buckle, trembling almost violently as she struggled to open it and gain access to what she was craving. She growled in frustration, ripping the leather apart Y/N was finally able to pull his dark jeans down enough for his cock to spring free, unburdened by any boxers.

Sam could barely hold back a groan as she moaned loudly at the sight of him. Her eyes flicked to his but quickly returned to the long and thick cock just a hair’s breadth away. The old hardwood groaned with the impact of her knees as she dropped in front of him. “Omega-“ He tried to say but suddenly her mouth was on him.

A saltiness exploded on her tongue as Y/N licked up his tip, lapping at the pre-cum that was already gathered there. She mewled, eager for more of the alpha in her mouth. Her lips pulled tighter with each inch she swallowed down, her jaw already beginning to ache even though she had barely taken half of him down her throat.

Sam’s hands balled into fists, his knuckles paling with the force. He watched with bated breath as the omega’s eyes hardened and she forced down even more of his cock. “Babygirl- fuck- slow down.” Now he was the one begging but she refused to listen.

She pulled back slightly, just enough that the fat head of his cock rested on the back of her tongue and then she pressed forwards again, now able to brush the tip of her nose against the groomed thatch of hair on the base of his pelvis. Sam threw his head back and moaned loudly, his cock already throbbing with the edge of ecstasy.

“Omega stop.” Her movements ceased but he was still deep down her throat. Her eyes were wide with a questioning gaze, the colour of her irises completely swallowed up by her pupils. The room was thick with their scent, and had he been in the right mind, Sam would wonder if the two men downstairs could smell them.

Delicately, he cupped her hollowed out cheeks and dragged her from his cock. She whined in protest as she was ripped away from him and Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. “So good for me, so perfect. Can I take care of you now?” He cooed, rubbing his thumbs across the apple of her cheeks.

Her eyelids fluttered and she nodded enthusiastically.

She went limp in his arms as Sam pulled her to his feet, letting him guide her soft body back onto the creaky mattress easily. She bounced once, her tits jumping towards her chin with the movement though they were still confined by her bra.

Sam’s plaid slipped over his head quickly, followed by his undershirt, leaving him completely bare to the omega who was still fully dressed. Her thick thighs pressed together under the weight of his gaze, needing any sort of friction against her core or she felt she would go mad.

His touch was hot, even through the thick denim of her jeans, as he slowly crawled up the length of her body, absentmindedly kissing the little flashes of skin where her shirt had risen on her stomach, her wrists, her collarbone until he finally reached her lips once more.

He gripped a plump thigh in one hand, the other holding his huge body above her as they lazily kissed. His hips settled against hers, immediately fanning the flames of desire between the two. She wiggled beneath him, fingers desperately pulling at the buttons of her own flannel, bumping into his hard chest with each unsuccessful attempt.

Sam let his hand drift from her thigh to the button of her jeans, popping it open with a calm ease that made her omega preen. Long fingers slid into her pants, immediately finding her panties completely soaked through with slick. As soon as his rough fingertips brushed against her covered clit, Y/N threw her head back and howled, her hips canting up to chase his touch.

With her neck now exposed, his lips found their way to her hot skin, nipping and sucking as his fingers pushed her panties to the side. Nails dug into the strong muscles of his back as he gently traced the length of her. “So wet for me. I’ll make you feel so good, omega.”

Before she could even take a breath, her pants were ripped down her legs along with her panties and discarded across the room. Sam’s eyes were fixated on the apex of her thighs, hungrily licking his lips at the sight of her laid out before him.

Without any warning, he dove in as if he could no longer stop himself. Pleasure shot up her spine in a way she had never before experienced. Sam nosed at her clit, groaning happily as more slick poured from her. He tried to be gentle at first, to ease his way into her but as soon as she clenched tightly around his tongue, Sam knew that there was no going back, that he would do this every day, multiple times a day if it were up to him, for the rest of their lives.

“Sam!” She cried, her hips bucking from the bed, making the old bed springs scream in protest with the sudden movement. Sam growled into her cunt, the vibrations sending a mind-numbing spark through her body, and grabbed her wide hips to keep her pinned down. Now unable to escape his mouth, Y/N was forced to feel every stroke of his tongue and each flick of his large nose against her clit. It was overwhelming, overpowering and tortuous in all the best ways.

The edges of her mind were beginning to go fuzzy just as small black dots grew in her vision. She grabbed at his hands, their fingers intertwined as she held them to her covered chest, desperate for more of the alpha’s touch like she could never get enough of him. Sam’s head bobbed with each furious thrust of his tongue, lapping up everything she was giving him. Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe. Her body strung tight with her impending release but still it did not cum.

She lifted her head from the pillows and opened her mouth to beg the alpha to cum but instead, she saw how he was nestled between her thighs, his own body tightly pressed to the bed sheets as his lean hips rolled down. He was humping the bed, furiously so, all because of her taste.

The omega shattered in his arms, her orgasm washing over her like nothing before. She was silent only for a moment, too washed out in pleasure to make a sound but then, she screamed. Her cum coated his tongue and Sam couldn’t stop his own orgasm from slamming into him- her sounds, her taste, her warmth, it was all too much for him and the alpha spilled himself onto the moth-eaten duvet cover.

“Alpha.” She sobbed, her soft arms reaching out to him. “Wan your knot!” Part of Sam winced at her tears but his alpha was howling in pride at leaving the omega a desperate puddle of lust and need for him. He wrapped her up in a comforting embrace, twisting both their bodies so that she could lay mostly on top of him.

“Shhh omega. You will get it, but not today.” She stiffened in his hold but he was quick to reassure her.

“I want to earn it, your trust and your mark.” He smiled and kissed her softly, cupping her jaw in one massive hand. “Let me work for it, please.”

Her shy smile knocked the breath from his lungs, her eyes shining with the beginnings of love. “Yeah okay.” Sam relaxed back into the bed, deliriously happy as Y/N laid her head on his bare chest, hand over the heart that beat only for her.

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drrrr1997-blog · 1 year

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Golden Hours in the Library

Back in the days when the internet was not as advanced, the two Winchesters often needed to research and gather information in the local library. Sometimes, Dean would find an excuse to sneak off to a small pub and gather clues from the locals. As he claimed, he was more suited for that kind of task compared to his nerdy younger brother. However, most of the time, under Sam's disapproving gaze and subtle pressure, Dean would go to the library together with his brother.

The evening sunlight streamed through the library's French windows, casting a gentle glow on Sam's face, making his features even softer. Sometimes, when Dean looked at Sam like this, he wondered how things would have turned out if they had gone to California together.

* I have been playing with mid journey to create fan art for a while, hope you enjoyed this work, if you have any ideas that you would like to share, leave it in the comments.

#wincest #supernatural #dean/sam #sam/dean #sam winchester #deanwinchtser #fanart #midjourney #spn

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destieltropecollection · 12 days

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Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 3: Friends to Lovers

Hidden | @verobatto Rating: Mature Word Count: 5,511 Main Tags/Warnings: Prince!Castiel, knight!Dean, slow burn, falling in love, friends to lovers, medieval AU, protectiveness Summary: Prince Castiel hides his face since he was born, because his father saw weakness in him. But when the prince unexpectedly becomes the new King of Saronia, he will have to face a powerful enemy to protect his people. The adventure starts and It's a mission of only two men. The King will choose to go with the only person he trusts, his General, Dean Winchester. Who's hidden behind that helmet? It's a mystery Dean will try to decipher throughout their journey.

Christmas, Present | @mittensmorgul Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 6,102 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, POV Alternating, Matchmaker Charlie Bradbury, Christmas Fluff Summary: Charlie just wants her best friend to be happy, and has been trying for four years to help Dean meet his perfect match. A last-ditch effort and a laid back holiday party in the woods could either help Dean find the Christmas spirit he'd been missing out on most of his life, or else backfire spectacularly. She could honestly use a Christmas miracle...

Too Hot | @verobatto Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6,917 Main Tags/Warnings: Neighbors AU, cop!Castiel, college student!Dean, slow burn, falling in love Summary: Dean is not intrigued at all about his mysterious Neighbor Detective Novak. Not even after being saved one night by him and discover the guy is the hottest man alive and walking on Earth.

When in Vegas | @verobatto Rating: Explicit Word Count: 51,896 Main Tags/Warnings: Canonverse, fake relationship, case fic, slow burn, friends to lovers, comedy, top!Castiel/bottom Dean, reality show Summary: "Two Hearts" is a very popular gay couples show but is also the oldest unsolved case any hunter have tried to resolve. Every five years, the winners die mysteriously and no one could catch the killer yet. This time, Bobby and Sam have the perfect plan: they only need to convince Dean to marry Castiel in Las Vegas, join the show and win the prize. Can a clueless, hot angel and a tough hunter make the audience believe they're happily married while dealing with the strange romantic tension that surrounds them?

Something Blue | @thisisapaige Rating: Explicit Word Count: 72,634 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Slow Burn, Jealous Cas, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester Summary: After being estranged for three years, Castiel Novak attends Dean Winchester's wedding. As Cas's heart breaks watching the man he loves exchange vows with someone else, he reminisces about how he met Dean, how they became best friends, and how it all fell apart. When Dean and Cas cross paths during the wedding, it's clear they have unresolved tension between them. Dean reaches out to Cas, wanting to be involved in his life once more. Cas must decide if he will accept the extended hand, or repeat history and flee from his feelings, leaving his life with Dean buried in the past.

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2024 #destiel #fanfic #supernatural #friends to lovers

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doctorprofessorsong · 7 months

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Destiel Fic Recs

Let's all pretend that I didn't just do one of these because I have clearly been consuming fic at an alarming rate.

A Beginner's Guide to Communing with the Dead by suspiciousflashlight @huntingthehaggis (Mature, 77k,)

Listen. I am actually mad at all y'all cause this fic has existed since 2013 and nobody told me to read it until now.

Detective Dean Winchester is haunted (literally) by the murder of a little girl. Unable to move on, he makes the decision to summon an ancient creature, Castiel, using forbidden magic. But the murder is only the beginning and he and Cas find themselves in a race against time to fight an ancient evil.

This fic has everything. Immaculate worldbuilding. Trueform Cas. Impeccable humor. Seriously, I devoured it. I'm shocked it took me this long to find it (probably because it's older), but I'm so happy I did.

The Beginning by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) @valleydean (Explicit, 129k)

A horrorfest Endverse fic, Mallory tackles what happened between the Croatoan infection and Dean and Cas' arrival in Camp Chitaqua. It's canon compliant and it really digs into Dean losing hope and becoming the darker version of himself and Cas falling into addiction and losing his angelic powers.

It's angsty and brutal and gross in the way zombie stories are. It's also got shining moments of love in the face of hopeless odds. Plus there's a character named River so you know it's good.

I also think watching the degradation of these two characters, and the way their love can't be denied even then is just really a good read.

Above & Below by murron (Explicit, 45k)

Speaking of older fics to lose your fucking mind over, this fic is absolutely immaculately done. Steeped in canon and set in S6, Dean, Cas and Soulless Sam embark on a journey through the circles of hell. Their mission is to recover Sam’s soul and their brother Adam from the cage.

It's really beautifully constructed with the vision of Hell pulled from various pieces of lore. This is a horror story for sure, but it's not a hopeless one. It's more like an epic mythological journey. And at its heart is the love story of Dean and Cas, and a lot of healing for Dean and Sam.

It's high concept. It's poetic. It's a top tier story to meltdown over.

Sentinel by Followsthebees (Explicit, 15k) @follows-the-bees

A delightful entry from the monsterfluffer bang, Dean finds himself increasingly enamored with a gargoyle on the roof of his work. What he doesn't know is the gargoyle feels the same way.

This has some absolutely delicious smut. 10/10 magical creature porn. But also Dean is so cute and lonely and full of love and Cas us such a delightful little creature. A fantastic time was had by all (me). Canon is integrated in a really fun way in a few places and the humor is fantastic.

Just a complete romp.

A pun regarding the word "bull" by zation @zationao3 (Explicit, series 41k)

Smutty and fluffy and oh so horny, this fic is a fun AU with light angst, a lot of sexual tension, but ultimately it's just a fun ride with a happy ending.

Castiel doesn't have time for attachments, but his money does afford him all the comforts of wealth and a string of casual lovers. When he spots Dean on the back of a mechanical bull, he decides he's found his next conquest - and a very willing one at that.

But after that night, both men can think of nothing but a repeat performance. Unfortunately, they failed to exchange numbers. Even more unfortunately, Dean just happens to be the new contactor engaged by Cas' company and therefore off limits.

There is some delicious smut in this one. The angst is counteracted with a sweet, soft pining and a profound bond type immediate connection that is a delight to read.

You Better Not Stay by FriendofCarlotta @friendofcarlotta (Explicit, 17k)

A fantastic horrorfest thriller, this one delivers jump scares and teen scream delight.

Dean and Cas have been best friends just short of forever and lovers for a year. But now that high school is behind them, Cas wants to leave to find freedom from his fucked up family. Dean can’t bring himself to join him. There’s Sam and the family business.

On the cusp of separation, Dean decides to take Cas on a little date to the abandoned skating rink they used to love when they were kids. Only they aren't alone, and if they're not careful, their last night together could be their last night on earth.

This one is great for the jumps and screams. But it's the soft way they love each other and the vulnerability that make this one memorable. Dean is heartbreakingly earnest trying to impress the man he loves. And Cas is sarcastic and sweet in a perfect balance.

And you're the sky by Desirae (Explicit, 28k)

Quite by accident I have two fics on here following the missed connection/one night stand reappears in your life trope, but they are very different. This one has a lot more roommates to lovers domesticity and some delightful Wings (the show) vibes.

Dean’s best friend, Gabriel, has been grounded due to medical issues. In order to save his small airline, he calls upon his estranged brother, Castiel for assistance. Being a good friend, Dean happily offers up a room in his house to Cas. Only when he shows up, he happens to be the one who got away - a hookup who was going by the name Jimmy.

This fic is soft and sweet. There's a lot of caretaker Dean and domestic vibes. It has the soft vibes of a fic where the two main characters are circling one another and you almost feel like it's inevitable that they will eventually find their way to each other. There is some family trauma, but the angst is largely countered by a lot of intentional healing. Throw in a fantastic cast of characters and this one is definitely worth the read.

Check out my other recs at @riversrecs

#destiel #deancas #fic recs #destiel fic rec #destiel fic recs

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naughtystiel · 9 months

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DEANCAS AU FIC REC MASTERPOST II

Here's another list of fics that I've read! They're all amazing, but the first two? They hold a special place in my heart because of how tender they are. If you decide to read them - prepare for an emotional rollercoaster.

You can check out the previous fic rec list here.

Happy reading! ♡

Restless wanderer

Just west of the town Porthgwarra, Cornwall, Robert Singer’s farm lies, a mess of ravaged land gaping out onto a fretting sea. Robert's orphaned godson, Dean Winchester, is named sole beneficiary of the farm - and though he hasn't seen his godfather in fifteen years, he travels across the Atlantic with his brother and half brother to care for Singer in his old age and tend to the farm. All of them hope to leave behind the squalor and famine of their old life.

What Dean meets is the bird-infested home of a widowed eccentric, and a new shepherd whom he can neither stand nor see any use for - stoic, rude and conceited, Dean plans to fire the mysterious and wandering Mr Novak the moment he comes into legal possession of the farm. But upon the shepherd's offer to teach him the trade, in anticipation of Dean replacing the man himself, Dean finds in the wild and roaming man a steadiness and certainty his own life has never yet contained. And one day Dean will have to ask, not tell, the shepherd to stay.

Down by the water

AU, set in 1853 — When Castiel loses everything dear to him due to a botched river crossing, including his supplies, livestock, covered wagon, and even his wife, he has no where to turn, no way to survive stranded in the middle of his journey. That is, until he meets Dean Winchester, who offers him a life saving deal: in exchange for help on his farm, Dean offers to provide much needed room and board. But how will this decision affect Castiel as he moves through his grief, and discovers feelings he never would have expected? Fighting with injury, pain, grief, and even the threat of death, Dean and Castiel find themselves in the one place they would have never expected: down by the water, struggling to accept their unforeseen love.

Dark side of the moon

Five months into his six month mission, an accident leaves Flight Engineer Dean Winchester stranded on the moon. It comes down to a man he has never met to bring him home.

Angel in the iron mask

Finally free of his actual shackles, Castiel finds himself in a situation a lot worse than being locked in the dungeon with an iron mask to conceal his face. The intrigues of the court will make his head ache, but it would all be worth it if he could just find a way to save the omega that had been enslaved to him.

Protect and serve

Sam Winchester is America's newest sweetheart. An in-demand actor and all around Boy Next Door. However, with his fame comes the need for protection. And Sam only trusts his older brother, and former beat cop, Dean, plus his best friend, Castiel Novak, to keep him safe. However, Castiel and Dean share not only a desire to keep Sam safe, but also a lot of friction between them. In an attempt to smooth the edges, Sam pleads with them to find a way to make things work. Castiel thinks Dean needs discipline. Dean thinks Castiel needs to lighten up. Together, they discover a lot more about each other than anticipated.

Playing with fire

When two best friends foray into a supposedly no-strings sexual relationship, someone is bound to catch feelings, someone is bound to fuck up, and someone is bound to beg for forgiveness; because that’s the recipe for a romantic comedy.

But life is not a romantic comedy, no matter how much Dean Winchester secretly wishes it was.

Instead, we present: Boy finds out boy, who has been his best friend for over twenty years, is secretly a Dom. Boy then sorta tricks boy into taking him on as his new sub. Boy discovers a side of himself he never knew existed. Boy is in way over his head.

Quarantension

In which Dean and Cas weather quarantine together like any Good Friends would — by developing outstanding skills in self-deception and providing all the casual affection and strictly platonic* orgasms the other could possibly need to make it through.**

*Really not platonic

**Spoiler: They need a lot.

Expectations

For centuries, the Winchester princes have taken omegas from the northern town of New Eden to bear the royal heirs before exiling them to the countryside - a punishment for a past dispute caused by the town's strict beliefs. When Prince John marries Lady Mary of Campbell and puts a Queen on the throne, however, most people assume the tradition has been set aside.

Thus, it's a complete surprise to Dean when he's sent to New Eden to retrieve the girl they've arranged for.

Cas, as a male omega in backward New Eden, has been ostracized and condemned by his town since he presented. To make matters worse? His sister is being given away to the crown prince of Winchester, never to return.

But when the morning before the prince's arrival dawns and Anna is nowhere to be found, the town's council decides there’s only one thing for it:

They’ll simply have to give him Cas instead.

It's the end of the world (as we know it)

The year is 1996, and Dean’s stuck in Kankakee, Illinois while Dad’s on a long-haul hunt. It’s not too bad. He’s even got a friend, now—even if Cas is a weird, gawky loner kid who gets way too intense about his sci-fi novels and doesn’t know how to stop staring. Just business as usual.

Until his dad comes back, and it isn’t.

The year is 2011, and the shadows known as ‘angels’ and ‘demons’ are falling from cracks in the sky, raining death, destruction, and monsters where they pass. When the Joint Task Force asks for their help in stopping the end of the world—John Winchester, his sons, and a ragtag band of hunters—well, that’s just business as usual, too.

Until Dean meets the cold blue eyes of their team liaison—Dr. Castiel Novak.

The meaning on my skin

Castiel Novak never wanted to be a Dominant. Living with the mark on his skin that designates him as one has haunted him every day of his life, and he goes to great lengths to avoid the part of his biology that he hates. When he makes the decision to get a tattoo with the intent of hiding his mark away, he meets Dean Winchester: tattoo artist and confident submissive.

Dean turns Castiel’s world upside down and subverts every expectation Castiel ever had about himself and his designation. Will Dean be able to teach him how to be comfortable in his own skin?

Roll with it

For two years, Dean’s been slaving away beneath his boss – many label him a secretary, but he fucking hates that and feels like it only applies to someone wearing a pencil skirt, so he insists on his title of Executive Assistant. And for what? In the vain hope that one day he’ll manage to become an editor for Sandover Publishing, and that he’ll see the manuscript that he’s slaved over since college finally realized in print.

That’s the dream, anyway.

Right now, he’s fucking late.

Dean wants to be an editor. Castiel just wants to stay in the country.

‘The Proposal’ – as you’ve never seen it before.

Stay in my arms (if you dare)

Grammy award-winning singer/actor Dean Winchester is on top of the world. His latest role has him tipped for an Oscar nomination and his life is damn good, thank you very much. That all comes crashing down after a series of death threats forces his manager, Bobby Singer, to hire a bodyguard. Bobby knows just the man for the job. Castiel Krushnic, former CIA field agent and the only person Bobby would trust to protect Dean.

Tensions are high and personalities clash from the first meeting, with Dean unwilling to change his lifestyle and Cas just wanting to do the job in peace. A series of events turns the pair into reluctant friends while both try to ignore their growing attraction for each other.

Dream house

Castiel Shurley and his best friend Dorothy Baum have decided to move in together. After his aunt assumes they are dating, she offers them money for the house, but only if they apply for a famous reality show ‘Dream House’. Since they could use the money and he doesn’t want to come out to his aunt, Castiel and Dorothy agree to fake date for the show. But things go wrong when Dorothy falls in love with the show’s producer and Castiel starts to develop feelings for one of the hosts.

Dean Winchester is a co-host of ‘Dream House’, along with his brother. Sam, being a realtor, finds a fixer-upper and Dean turns it into a perfect house for their clients. Even though he has what most people only dream about, Dean is incredibly lonely. He had bad experiences with relationships in the past and he doesn’t think he will ever meet anyone who can earn his trust. Until he meets Castiel.

I'll be good

Dean has always been the good guy. He made the hard decisions and rose to the occasion whenever his family needed him. He became a parent way too soon after the deaths of John and Mary Winchester along with Sam’s big oops moment. Resettling his entire life to Beaufort, NC for the sake of those he loves the most.

Now at 25 an opportunity to finally be good to himself has been delivered in the form of one gorgeous Castiel Novak. The new arrival to town is the worst driver Dean has ever seen. As the eldest Winchester strives to overcome several bumps along the road of life can he also help Cas to steer towards a happily ever after with him or will Novak’s turbulent past cause them to crash and burn?

In other words a BDSM love story.

Shatter me

Dean Winchester started his day in seven easy steps.

Step one: Survive attack from a giant drool monster

Step two: Shower and shave

Step three: Suck down a cup of coffee while walking the drool monster to her favorite tree

Step four: Feed and water the drool monster

Step five: Have a balanced breakfast of microwaved egos, six medications, and two more cups of coffee

Step six: Check his email and schedule for the day

Step seven: Pack the pup and himself a hearty lunch and leave for work

In none of these steps did it say: meet your soul mate, hate them on sight and cause bodily harm…. and yet.

Crashing in

Castiel Novak is convinced he’s the last unwillingly single person in Lupine Cove. Even Gabriel, his perpetual bachelor brother, has found love. It’s probably because Cas leads the most boring life in existence. He’s a gay man living in a rented, one-room cottage in the same small coastal town he grew up in, just getting by as the owner of the same convenience store he was practically raised in. The most excitement he gets is chatting with the locals or maybe, if he’s unlucky, oversleeping and rushing to work. So when a baby is left at the Safe Haven drop-off at the local fire station, he takes the opportunity to step in for the child temporarily, at least until suitable parents, plural, can be found.

Life certainly gets more interesting.

And it gets even more interesting when a handsome man comes crashing—literally—into his life.

Partnered

Dean didn't think that his life as a detective could get much worse after Castiel was promoted to lieutenant.

Castiel was a stickler for the rules, had no sense of humour, and never seemed to give Dean a break, even though they used to be partners.

But then, despite all of their questionable history, the two are asked to go undercover on a case in the wealthy suburbs of California. . . as a married couple.

Lead by your beating heart

After a night of celebrating (heavy drinking) with his brother surgical intern Dean Winchester discovers that his resident, talented Cardio surgeon Castiel Novak, is...well a huge douche bag...kind of hot but still a huge douche bag. A douche bag that he's stuck with for the rest of the year, that's if he survives the year without Castiel killing him and making it look like an accident. So why is it that an easy friendship forms between the two men that swiftly becomes something Dean never expected to find when he moved to Chicago.

Bold will hold

All Dean Winchester wants is to open his own tattoo shop, which is why he signs up for Tattoo Gods, a tattooing reality show with a $100,000 grand prize. He also wants to avoid making an ass of himself on national TV, and he definitely wants to avoid falling for Cas Novak, another artist who’s not only his direct competitor, but someone he’s had an unspoken rivalry with since before he started apprenticing, and is just as ridiculously talented as he is stunning (and, as Dean comes to find out, kind and funny and passionate and sincere). Is that too much to ask?

Apparently, yes. Yes, it is.

Breathing into you

‘Beware the deep sea, that’s where the monsters come from.’ Dean had heard these words since birth, his father’s warnings shaping him into the man he is today.

That’s not the root of Dean’s hatred for merpeople, though. Twenty years after the day tragedy had touched the Winchesters’ lives forever as well as the end of the Great War between humans and mer, Dean is still haunted by that moment. But loving the sea is just as much a part of him as the dread for the merfolk, so when he isn’t working at the local bar, he is there, underwater, immersed in the vast blue his mother used to speak of in her bedtime stories.

Dean knows, however, that the sea can be as ruthless as it is soothing. When he is caught in the middle of a storm and faces the anger of the waves, the mysterious appearance of a stranger with blue eyes as clear as the waters Dean loves losing himself in forces Dean to question the truth behind his father’s old mantra.

Hot water

Castiel hated public showers.

In which Castiel is forced to use the company shower after hours and ends up doing unspeakable things he never thought himself capable of...

AU-fic containing mystery attractions and a lot of hot water.

I can make you scared

So this is how it goes. Best day of Dean Winchester’s life. Loses his job, finds out he’s been cheated on, gets dumped, all in the course of one fucked up Thursday. Drinking himself into oblivion is the natural response, right? A chance encounter in a dingy dive bar gives Dean a new friend who sees his problems and likes him anyway. Now, as Dean struggles to pick up the pieces of his life, Castiel just might help him put them back together in a way he never expected.

Fear of falling (apart)

In a world where D/s relationships are the norm and Chicago is caught up in a three-way mob war, Russian mob boss Castiel Krushnic makes John Winchester an offer he can't refuse: one that will make Dean Winchester his own.

Cuffed to an angel

Dean Winchester has a lot going for him: he's beloved by his students, he's finished writing his first book, and he's living comfortably in New York City. The only problem is... he's single. That wouldn't bother him much if his family wouldn't be visiting for the holidays. With cuffing season over, Dean has to face his family alone... or will he?

Castiel DiAngelo is a simple detective who hasn't really celebrated Christmas in over 9 years, holidays and family being a sore spot for him. But after taking Dean up on an offer, he finds that you can't really avoid the holidays.

Will these two be able to pull off a seminal holiday trope? Or will certain developments get in the way...

(don't) stop texting me

Castiel Novak is relatively happy living his solitary life as a Starbucks Barista. He lives alone with a cat named Hamburger, and he has one (1) emotional support friend, Gabriel.

Unfortunately, he is plagued by the fact that some guy (see: a random hot dude named 'Dean') is giving out Castiel's phone number as his own. And he's been doing it for months.

So, of course, when Castiel's at work and a hot stranger gives him his own phone number for the Starbucks Rewards Program... well... it doesn't go well.

Sweet boy

NOTE - nothing sexual happens between them until Dean's 18

Dean's sixteen when he meets John's well-to-do boss, Castiel Novak, and he's quick to develop a crush during a time where he's only begun to discover his preferences. He dates the beautiful Lisa and practically raises his younger brother Sam, because it's what John expects. But Castiel appears to see Dean in a way no one else does, and despite him knowing there's no way anything can happen between them, he relishes in the idea that Castiel cares at all for his well-being.

Between mounting pressures from a teenage Sam that no longer wants a caretaker, John's nudging for Dean to follow a career path he doesn't want, and a mysterious check for the exact amount of one semester at the school Dean had been eyeing, Dean finds himself reconnecting with Castiel.

And Castiel has a very interesting proposition for him.

Down time

It’s been said that Dean Winchester is a bit uptight but in his opinion being focused on producing quality work is nothing to be ashamed of. He would grudgingly admit he tends to get too worried about his work and schedule and that it’s beginning to wear him down. In a fit of work induced exhaustion, he decides to indulge in a deeply buried desire of his…

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samwinchesterswifu · 3 months

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Exile on Main Street (Dean Winchester x Reader) Angst

Requested: No

Season 6 x Episode 1

Warnings: slow burn, deeply setted angst if youre ready to cry.

Song Inspiration: "Every Rose Has Its Thorns" by Poison, "Faithfully" by Journey

MINORS DNI

A/N: Oofta. This one got me a little emotional.

Word Count: 1386

Summary: Dean returns to ask her back in the game. Broken and destroyed by the memory of him leaving her for Lisa, she's unsure whether or not that would be a good idea, but these Winchester boys are known for their apologizes.

She sighs, entering her apartment late one evening. Kicking off her shoes, she strides over to the kitchen. Turning on the water she begins to handwash the few dishes left over from last nights dinner. Flashbacks replaying in her head of the brothers, of her past lover, of what her life used to be like before Sam jumped in the pit.

She turns over to her radio that sat on the counter, tuning into the classic rock station that Dean had consistently on. ‘Every Rose Has It’s Thorn’ by Poison turns on and she goes back to cleaning the dishes while humming along. A small tear seeps through her eyes thinking about Dean. Before Sammy jumped in the pit, they had gotten into a deep argument that lead to their break up. Dean had disappeared and she assumed it was to be with Lisa.

She always felt second best to Lisa after finding out about her. She just felt like a toy for Dean, something to hold and to have sex if there were no other options. She knew deep down it wasn’t the case, but after leaving her the way he did, that’s all that ran through her brain.

Wrapping up from dishes, she is completely unaware of the fact of someone breaking into her apartment. The last verse of the song begins to play from the radio and she turns up the sound. Grabbing a whisky glass from her cabinet, and the bottle from the counter, pouring herself one extra large shot. As the song ends, she slams the whisky glass onto her counter, accidentally shattering it in the process.

Another sigh left her lips as her hand began to bleed from the smashed glass. Sneering at picking out pieces from her hand she takes a moment to look up at the window. Seeing a shadow of a man behind her. She stops, quickly turning around to find none other than Dean. Her eyes darts between Dean and her gun that was on the table.

Dean holds up his hands and moves towards her, giving her just a split second to dive towards the table. She’s getting to pulling the trigger when suddenly the gun is knocked out of her hand and her arm is twisted behind her back. Looking up she’s met with Sam’s eyes. She tries to wiggle free of Sam’s grip, getting desperate with tears rolling down her face.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Dean speaks up from behind her now.

“It’s us, see?” Dean takes out the demon knife, and slices on his bicep.

Still trying to wiggle free, Dean also looks for salt in her cabinet, doing the whole routine.

Taking a deep breath, she finally calms down enough to warrant Sam letting go of his grip. Rubbing her wrist to ease the pain she looks between both brothers. Utterly confused.

“You wanna explain whats going here before I beat your ass until you see stars Winchester?” She says through gritter teeth looking directly at Dean.

Dean clears his throat and shifted on his shoes.

“Can you give us a minute Sammy?” Dean voice sounding shaky, almost nervous to be in the same room as her.

“Sure, I’ll be in the car.” Sammy says giving her a look that almost said to hear them out.

Sammy leaves her apartment shutting close the door that they lock picked.

“So?” She says, standing in her kitchen with arms crossed over her chest. Sending daggers towards the man she thought she lost forever in the woes of a woman he loved more.

Dean mentions to sit at her table. She shrugs, moving for him to do so. But she felt comfortable standing. Giving her an advantage to move if she still felt like beating his ass. Dean coughs at the awkwardness.

“You got 5 minutes Winchester,” She states sternly.

Dean takes a deep breath and begins to explain everything. How he got poisoned and how Sam saved him, everything happening with Sam and their family. It was a lot to take in, and time seemed to fly by getting later in the night.

“…So we came to see if you wanted to be back in the game.” He asks, eyes looking towards her in the same old puppy dog look he used to give after a bad hunt.

She was about to say something when she realized the radio was still on. ‘Faithfully’ by Journey started to play through the crappy speakers. Tearing at her heart strings as another flashback occurs of when they were younger, dancing to this outside of the impala.

“Why now Dean? What about Lisa? Ben? All that apple pie life? What do you what me to come back?” She says, choking as she tried to hold back tears.

Another deep sigh left Deans lips.

“I miss you, Y/N, what I did was totally wrong and I’m so sorry I never fixed anything after Sam jumped. I abandoned you and I acknowledge that I made that action,” Dean takes a pause. She turns back towards her cabinets, grabbing a glass to pour another drink of whisky.

Dean studies her from the table and she can feel his eyes burning into the side of her cheek. She pauses for a second, trying to console herself before speaking to him. However, she breaks, tears start streaming down her face. She grips onto the counter, white knuckling, allowing emotions she pushed down to resurface after a year.

She hears the chair Dean was sitting in scraping against the hardwood floor as he stood up. Crying harder, she was engulfed in a large bear hug. She let it all go. All the memories of their times together whether that was romantically, after a good hunt, or a bad one flood her brain. The memories of her doing everything she did to make sure Dean didn’t jump the gun to say Yes to Michael. The love they made after he returned from the trip of the future and finding out she got bit from Croatian virus and he had to kill her. It was too much to keep down anymore.

Dean consoled her with quietly voiced shh’s. Petting her hair while laying his head onto of hers. One arm was still wrapped around her waisted tightly. To afraid to let go.

She finally calms down after a good while. Checking the clock it was way past midnight at this point. Certain that Sam had probably left the two to chat.

They stand in silence for a little while longer. Letting her bask in the feeling of Dean’s body weight against her after all this time. Taking a deep breath, she signals to Dean to let her take a step back. Which he does reluctantly, still holding on to her arms at arm’s length.

“If I come back, what’s gunna happen Dean? Between us?” She asks, voice hoarse from the crying.

“Whatever you want. We can start over, take our time. If you want nothing to do with me, then I would understand.” He takes a moment to pause before continuing.

“I can’t continue on like this. I need you here with me, with Sam. Hunting or figuring out whatever the hell is going on does feel right without you sweetheart.” Dean says, tucking a strand of hair that fell out her ponytail behind her ear.

“Okay.” She whispers.

“Okay?” Dean asks, heart pound against his chest.

She nods, and Dean lets go of the breath he didn’t even realizing he was holding. He leans down to give her a small kiss on her forehead, hovering for just a moment.

“I have so much to take care of before we leave, this apartment, my job, so I can pack up tomorrow.” She says looking around the place she had gotten used to calling home.

“Yep, nope, totally understand, whatever you need Sam’s and I’s help in we will.” Dean says, letting go of her arms.

“Thank you,” She whispers. Receiving a nod in return.

“I’ll uh, text Sam to come get me, I think he may have left.” Dean says looking out the window assuming he’s trying to find the Impala.

“Stay for tonight,” She asks. Dean looks towards her longingly.

“Okay.” He speaks out. “Whatever you want.”

#dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural

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waynes-multiverse · 4 days

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Plastic Hearts – Part 25

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, a tinge of angst, FLUFF

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: I'm not sad... 🥲 Honestly, I don't have words beyond gratitude and cliché goodbyes, so let's end this journey together 🤍

<< 24 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

25. Dare

“Ugh, I can’t believe you convinced everyone to come out here,” Jo groans and raises her flat palm to her brows, shielding her eyes from the scalding desert sun. “What the fuck is wrong with Palm Springs, huh?”

“C’mon, we’ve always wanted to go to Joshua Tree together since we moved to LA. This is like the perfect time,” Y/N argues cheerfully and nudges her friend with her elbow. “Look! It’s so peaceful.”

“There’s a dead carcass over there. Looks like a symbol of my marriage,” Jo deadpans.

Y/N purses her lips before compelling another positive smile to her face. “We can get rid of that. The girls really needed this after the whole Crowley debacle.”

The group left straight after the network meeting in Dean’s office this morning, which didn’t go as planned, to say the least. While several executives were surely interested, Crowley and H-ELLTV put an abrupt end to it. Apparently, they sold their fucking souls by signing a contract with the devil. Crowley’s words still rang in her ears on repeat.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, ladies, but H-ELLTV owns your characters, which means you can’t sell them to another network. You all signed a contract and made a deal. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, fucking asshole…” Jo huffs her agreement but then throws her friend a suspicious sideways look. “What’s up with you, though? Why are you so chipper and cheerful like a fucking Disney princess? I thought you of all people would be fucking depressed and devastated about the stupid show ending.”

Y/N shrugs. “I am. I’m just trying to make the best of our last weekend together. Can’t I be happy?”

“Fuck no.” Jo shakes her head. “Something’s up with you. Usually, when you’re like this, it’s overcompensation ‘cause you’ve fucked something up. If I were still married, I’d think you’ve fucked my husband all over again. So, what did you do?”

Y/N shrugs once more and keeps her eyes trained on the sprawling desert landscape in front of her. “Nothing.”

“Dean also was a bigger asshole than usual this morning. So, I’m asking again, what shit did you fuck up now?”

“Nothing, okay? Dean’s always an asshole,” Y/N deflects defensively. Although, even she has to admit – those were some spectacularly icy green eyes this morning. Not that he ever looked directly at her or spoke with her even once. She probably would’ve turned to stone if he did.

“Fine, don’t tell. God knows I don’t fucking care,” Jo says indifferently and joins the other women as they set up their tents on the campground.

Y/N lets out a small sigh as she stares at the bluest sky she’s ever seen while the hot desert sun beams down on her. She watches the girls for a while, her heart slightly cracking at the thought this might be the last time they all hang out together. This year has been the best one she’s ever had.

But then, her heart stings even more when she thinks about the one person who isn’t here, wondering what he’s doing right now. If anything, she owes it all to him.

Dean nurses his beer with a sigh, his green eyes barely paying attention to the half-naked girl who’s winding herself up and down a silver pole in front of him. This used to bring him joy – day-drinking at a strip club and watching tits bounce. But now all he thinks about is how that girl looks nothing like Y/N. None of them do.

“Hey, son. Startin’ early today,” Bobby notes with a chuckle as he sits down next to him.

“Yeah, they canceled the show.” And while that’s certainly true, it’s not the reason why Dean’s sulking at a titty bar.

“Too damn bad. I loved the show!” Bobby tells him enthusiastically. “It was insane. Good insane. It had everything – comedy, drama, heartache, tits, violence, a fucking wedding? There’s something for everyone there.”

“Well, uh, thanks, Bobby. Really appreciate it,” Dean tells him politely. He likes the guy, but he’s not in the mood for chitchat. He’s barely in the mood for naked women, for crying out loud. This is a deep fucking depression.

There are only two promises he’s made to himself: One, he won’t slump like he did after his last divorce. There will be no excessive drinking, which leads to excessively pathetic crying, which leads to a myriad of bad choices out of sheer desperation. Remember that awful dating videotape he made? Yes, there will be no more of that. And then there’s of course two, no drugs – no matter how much he tells himself he wants or fucking needs them. A tiny dot of hope seems to be still dormant in his plastic heart, reminding him that she might come back, and he doesn’t want to risk disappointing her once she does.

Dean has worked fucking hard to be the best version he can be – a version she doesn’t seem to give a shit about. But even he has to admit: He likes himself a lot better now, so he refuses to turn back to old comforts, albeit it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

“You guys interested in doing a floor show?”

Bobby’s words pull him from his reverie. Dean arches a brow at him, straightening a bit in his seat. “What? Here?”

Bobby rolls his eyes. “No, idjit. My wife Ellen has some stakes in a club on the Vegas Strip. She manages the hotel there, too. They’re looking for a new headliner. Just do the exact same show, night after night, 300 miles east. Vegas is where the money is. Headliners make at least 25 grand a week. You think that gym is big? We have to fill 1,100 seats.”

Dean stumps and blinks at the old man a bit baffled. “Well, uh… I’ll think about it. Talk to my partner, the girls…”

Bobby smiles and pats his shoulder as he gets up. “You do that. I’ll call you tomorrow. Now, how about a lap dance? On the house. Can pick any girl that fancies your heartache. You ain’t foolin’ an old man like me.”

Dean chuckles. “Nah, I’m good. But thanks. Think I’m gonna head home and drink myself into a coma there.”

“It’s getting dark soon. How much longer?” Jo’s brown eyes dart to Y/N as she drags her feet over a rocky path. The sun stings less than it did when they started their little hike, but her skin feels perfectly tanned by now and the water is running low.

“Uh, I think it’s supposed to be just up ahead that hill,” Y/N muses and swirls her head around the formation of rocks that all look the same, squinting her eyes into the distance.

Jo sighs, and her stare intensifies. “You’ve been saying that for over an hour. Are we lost?”

“Noooo…” Y/N doesn’t sound convincing and surely doesn’t fool Jo with her reply.

“Alright, gimme the map.”

“I don’t have the map. I gave it to Meg.”

Jo groans and rolls her eyes, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

“What? Meg’s the trail leader. Trail leader gets the map,” Y/N defends her faux pas with reason.

“Great! So we’re fucking lost in the desert,” the blonde huffs.

Y/N chuckles lightly, mostly out of uncomfortableness and panic she tries to hide behind it. “No, there’s a trail marker right over there,” she says, pointing to a pile of rocks. “That looks manmade.”

Jo quirks her brow. “You mean like that pile of rocks? Or that one over there?”

Y/N follows her friend’s gaze, only to realize that there are lots of piles of rock that all look too fucking similar. She purses her lips and scratches her head before resting her arms on her squared-off hips. “I think we’re lost.”

“Yeah.” With an exhaustive sigh, Jo plops down on another pile of rocks and watches as the orange sun dips behind the horizon, shadows of blue slowly crawling across the desert floor and swallowing the light.

Y/N clumsily lowers herself down next to the blonde. Her leg hurts like a bitch, and the desert sand that has wound its way into her cast itches a good deal. Her hands and arms hurt as well from clinging to her crutches all afternoon. Maybe Dean was right, and this was a bad idea, after all. Why does he always have to be fucking right about everything? How can one person be so annoying and frustrating all at once?

“Well, you finally get your wish,” Jo deadpans. “We’re gonna die together.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N says ruefully and looks at the first stars appearing in the night sky. “Maybe the stars will guide us home.”

Jo just looks at her, unamused and unsurprised. “You’ve never been camping, have you?”

Y/N twitches her shoulders apologetically. “It was only supposed to be a three-mile moderate beginner’s trail to a beautiful vista. It’s what the guidebook said.”

Jo shakes her head and blows a raspberry, hugging her knees. “Joanna Wesson, 27, found dead near a random cluster of rocks that might have looked like a trail marker. She was best known for playing Beth Crowne on the soap opera Paradise Bay before trying to revive her career on an unsuccessful wrestling show. She is survived by her son, Sammy, and her bitter ex-husband Sam with his secretary Jessica.”

“Well, at least you get an obituary,” Y/N quips. “Mine would just read: Soap Star Found Dead Next to Unidentified Woman in National Park.”

Jo even snorts at that. “Well, I’m sure Dean would cut and edit an adorable video tribute with a bunch of B-roll about you at your funeral.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Y/N pensively licks her lips, her heart doing those painful twinges again whenever she thinks of him. “You know yet what you’re gonna do next?”

“No, I-… I think I wanna produce,” Jo announces with determination in her hazel eyes. “I don’t wanna ask permission. I’m so tired of it all. For once, I wanna boss people around and tell ‘em what to do. You know, you were right.”

Baffled, Y/N raises a brow. “About what?”

“Men,” Jo says simply and then spits with fire, “I fucking hate them all. The Crowleys and the Dicks and the Cases and the Sams and the Deans… They make the choices. They dictate the terms… I’m sick of it all. I just hate asking them for anything.”

“Dean’s not so bad,” Y/N says quietly but doesn’t look at Jo. Her heart stings for the millionth time. “I got that role for the Sondheim musical. They called this morning.”

Jo’s lips curve into a soft smile that reaches her eyes. “Congrats. I’m not surprised. You were really fucking good.”

Y/N’s heart flutters a little at the compliment. Tears begin to sting her eyes. She can’t remember the last time Jo was nice to her. “Thank you.”

“You don’t seem happy about it,” Jo notes attentively.

“No, I am,” Y/N manages to choke out, but the sniffling betrays her intentions.

“But?”

Y/N bobs her head, swallowing. “I think I’m ready to talk about it now.”

“Fucking finally,” Jo huffs and rubs her cold and goosebump-littered arms as the heat disappears, the nightly air bringing a fresh breeze.

“Dean told me he loves me,” Y/N confesses. “He’s in love with me.”

“Yeah, no shit. Kinda obvious,” Jo says without a twitch of surprise. “Don’t feel bad for not loving him back. That’s what they want… For us to feel bad about every single fucking thing.”

“That’s just it. I don’t think that’s how I feel,” Y/N replies and lets out a jittery sigh.

Jo’s head turns to her, eyeing her friend up and down. “And how do we feel about that? I can’t tell. It’s too dark to see your face.”

“I-, uh, I don’t exactly know,” Y/N says, which is partially true. She might know how she feels about the green-eyed director, but not how she feels about the situation overall.

Jo purses her lips and nods. “Alright, here’s a couple of options: happy, excited, scared, or… repulsed?”

“Well, uhm… scared,” Y/N admits slowly and gulps. “And excited… happy.”

Jo throws her arms up, shaking her head at the stars. “Jesus fuck! Then what the fuck are we doing here?! Is that why you dragged me all the way to the fucking desert? Because you’re running from your feelings?”

“Kinda. I thought the peaceful quiet and beautiful nature would bring me some much-needed clarity,” Y/N explains.

Jo lifts a brow but tries not to seem too annoyed. She’s accustomed to her friend’s theatrics, after all. “And? Did it?”

“The hike didn’t, but facing death kinda does,” Y/N jokes and begins to laugh a little, Jo soon joining her. When their laughter dies down and the desert sounds of chirping crickets and screeching eagles remain, Y/N exhales a shaky breath. “I’m in love with him, too. He makes me really fucking happy. But… I finally feel like I’m on the right track with my career. I am where I’m supposed to be, you know? I don’t wanna throw that away for a guy.”

“Who says you should?”

“I don’t know… Isn’t that how it goes? You did it,” Y/N argues.

Jo licks her lips and clicks her tongue. “Yeah, ‘cause I chose the wrong fucking guy. Sam made me give up everything I ever loved and told me what to love instead. If you pick the right guy, he won’t make you do that.”

“How do I know it’s the right guy, though?”

Jo smiles softly. “Look, I’m not Dean’s biggest fan, but he’s yours. You know that, right? He’d never hold you back. He adores the ground you walk on. Yes, he’s an asshole with so many fucking issues, and he’s goddamn annoying most of the time, but he’s always had your back, even when he pretended that he didn’t. The guy would probably sell every limb and his fucking soul to see you get everything you ever wanted, Y/N. He wouldn’t be a mistake. You know what would be a mistake? Not trying because you’re too scared of making one. Don’t be fucking stupid.”

Thoughtfully, Y/N nods in agreement and grabs her crutches, rising from her rocky seat. “I need to see him. We have to head back to the city.”

“Finally! Thank fucking God.” With a grunt, Jo jumps to her feet and helps Y/N to steady hers. “Maybe the girls made a fire bright enough, so we can find our way back.”

“Shit.”

“What? They have matches, don’t they? I’m sure these bitches can manage a simple fire, right?” Jo then notices Y/N’s hand curling around her bicep, her grip tightening. And then, Jo glances in the direction of Y/N’s eyes and sees the same damn thing. Her brown eyes widen.

“Mountain lion.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” the blonde hisses and holds on to her friend as well. Both women freeze on the spot. “What-, uh, what should we do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should throw a stick?”

“A stick?” Jo arches her brow. The big cat snarls and stalks a little closer, making the two women jump back. Their hearts are thumping in their throats at this point. “It’s not a fucking dog, Y/N. It won’t play fetch with you.”

“I know that. How about you come up with a better idea, then?” Y/N snaps through gritted teeth. The lion hisses again, causing the women to tremble down to their bones and hug each other tighter. “I think I should jump it.”

“Are you nuts? No!”

“Look, while it eats me, you can flee. I can’t run with my cast anyways. This is the best option,” Y/N insists, but Jo vehemently shakes her head.

“Fuck no! You’re not sacrificing yourself. We die together. You’re not leaving me behind,” Jo maintains. “I always knew my death would be your fault. Don’t ask me how, but I knew you’d get me killed somehow.”

The wild cat takes another step forward and lowers to the ground as if to get ready to jump its prey – them. But then a few tumbling rocks and breaking twigs draw its attention behind the women. Is there an even bigger cat here?

And suddenly, Meg leaps forward from above them with a loud howl and snarls at the cat, which hastily tucks its tail between its legs and flees down the hill into the dark night. Y/N and Jo expel a big breath of relief and a shaky laugh as they find Meg.

“Meg, what the fuck? Did you just scare away a mountain lion?” Y/N gapes at her friend in utter disbelief.

Meg only shrugs her shoulders. “I hate cats. What are you guys doing out here so long?”

“We got lost. Couldn’t find our way back to camp,” Y/N explains.

Meg furrows her brow and thumbs behind her. “It’s just over there. You guys have been hiking around the same hill for five hours.”

Jo shoots Y/N a small glare of annoyance and blows some loose strands of blonde hair out of her face. “Of course we did…” she mutters.

“We have to get back to LA!” Y/N declares eagerly, trying to climb the small rocky hill with her crutches, foregoing the more suitable pathway.

“Right now? It’s probably 3am when we get to Burbank. Can’t this wait till tomorrow?” Jo says as she attempts to climb after her friend.

“No! I almost died! Twice… Dean needs to know how I feel before I get bit by a rattlesnake, too,” Y/N reiterates passionately.

“It’s probably for the best,” Meg chimes in. “We kinda forgot to pack food. I was about to hunt something for us when I ran into you guys. We have tons of drugs and booze, though.”

Y/N’s knuckles thunder persistently on Dean’s door and conjure up a storm. She has jumped out of Ruby’s limo so fast, the girls are still scrambling out and flooding Dean’s front lawn one by one. They’re loud and obnoxious, but the ringing in her ears makes their chatter barely noticeable.

The lock clicks and the door opens. Dean stands in front of her with weary green eyes, heavy with sleep, tousled bed-head, and a furiously scrunched brow. He half yawns and half grumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Once he feels clearer, minus the soft buzz of whiskey remnants in his bloodstream, he blinks at the young actress in front of him and then tilts his head at the circus show behind her.

God, between his punk rock daughter and this, his neighbors must really hate him.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you guys supposed to be camping in fucking Joshua Tree?” His voice is a gravelly bark. He doesn’t mean to sound so harsh, especially when he just woke from a dream about her, but he’s not as masochistic as he used to be. He’s not a fan of torturing himself with the image of her any longer.

Y/N’s heart somersaults as soon as she sees him, even though his apprehension hurts a bit. “Look, I almost died tonight. We got lost in the desert and then a mountain lion almost fucking ate us.”

Dean licks his lips, nodding. “Yeah, I’m not fucking surprised. Told you Palm Springs is the better option. So, did anyone fucking die? What’s the head count?”

“No one died.”

“Huh. Then why the fuck are you here in the middle of the night, Y/N?” Dean bites, his brow creasing in anger. He can’t even fucking look at her for a second without his heart being on the brink of an explosion. Even saying her goddamn name hurts like needle pricks in an abused vein.

“I–” Y/N swallows thickly. Her drumming heart is stuck in her airway along with her words.

“She’s here to tell you she loves you!” Ruby hollers behind her before several girls tackle her and clasp her mouth shut.

Dean’s heart twists upon the sick joke, his frown deepening. But then he glances at Y/N and thinks he can spot the truth in her eyes. He thought that once before, though, and was terribly wrong.

Y/N gives a shrug of one shoulder with tears brimming in her eyes. A small smile forms on her lips. “What she said.”

Dean nods and drags a hand over his freckled face, feeling the tears well in his eyes, too. Fucking whiskey. Always renders him goddamn sentimental. “Look, uhm, you kinda gotta tell me this yourself. Otherwise, I won’t believe it, okay?”

Upon his request, Y/N takes a deep breath and looks him into his eyes. “I’m in fucking love with you.” As soon as the words are out, she starts crying and the tears fall down her cheeks. Meanwhile, Dean’s heart tumbles into free fall, and he’s sure not even a parachute can stop it. “I’ve never said that to anyone in my life. Is-, is it too late?”

Dean snorts and shakes his head, grinning brighter than the California sun on the longest day of the year. “Fuck no. Even if it had taken you thirty years, I still would’ve taken you back. That’s kinda how once-in-a-lifetime love works, sweetheart.”

“Okay. Sounds like a good movie,” Y/N jokes between her tears, her fingers tingling to touch him.

“Yeah, best one there is.”

His hands grab hold of her and pull her into his embrace. He claims her lips, Y/N eagerly parting her mouth as his tongue slips between. The kiss is rushed and fervent and perfectly desperate. They’re both so gone they can’t even hear the girls cheering and applauding them in the background.

“You’re gonna come inside?” Dean asks in a murmur against her lips, barely letting her breath.

“Uhm…”

“Hey, Lothario, you got space for us, too?” Cassie shouts with a wide smirk.

“Yeah, we’re fucking starving,” Ruby adds with an impatiently arched brow.

“We, uh, forgot to pack food,” Y/N explains with a chuckle.

Dean sighs and smiles knowingly. “Of course you did.” He then turns to the women waiting on his lawn. “Alright, get in. I’ll order some pizzas.”

The women then proceed to brush past the couple and filter into Dean’s house. Missouri pinches his cheeks, Ruby pats his head, Cassie fist-bumps him and sends Y/N a flirty wink, Meg tousles his hair, Charlie shrugs apologetically, and Jo offers an annoyed eye roll.

“I’m never gonna get rid of them, am I?” Dean looks down at her and tightens his jaw, even when a grin is visible.

“No, I’m afraid not. It’s like you’ve adopted twelve strays. One of which actually turned out to be your long-lost puppy. They’re gonna be here until you die and then eat your corpse,” Y/N quips.

“Funny.” Dean clicks his tongue, his dimples itching to form a grin.

“Oooo! Let’s call the guys!” he hears Ruby exclaim from inside his living room. “It’s a fucking wrap party at the boss’ house!”

“No! No party! Guys, c’mon!” Dean storms inside after them, leaving Y/N giggling on his doorstep.

“Let’s call Garth, Kevin, and Benny!” Donna suggests, ignoring his protests. It’s like they can’t fucking hear him.

“I’ll call my husband, too!” Bela adds and eagerly dials Cas’ number on his landline.

“Oh, right, Cas…” Dean mutters with an eye roll as he remembers the impromptu wedding. “No fucking Benny!”

Y/N joins his side and rubs his back in comfort as he watches his house sink into female doom. “You okay?”

The deep trenches in his brow flatten into soft valleys as his green eyes lock on her. He dips his head and pulls her to his lips, kissing her slow and reverently. “Better.” He smirks. “Just gonna have to sage the whole house tomorrow.”

That earns him a playful slap on his chest. He laughs and pulls her closer with an arm around her waist.

“Hey, uh, speaking of party…” Dean mumbles before he addresses the whole room, grabbing their attention with an authoritative clear of his throat. He’s still got it. “You guys wanna do shows in Vegas?”

“What?!”

Dean’s eyes find Y/N’s gaping face. He chuckles a little. “Yeah, uh, Bobby offered me a deal. There’s nothing in the network contract about live shows. I already went over it with Cas this afternoon. It pays well, too. You guys interested? It’s not like any of you have actual jobs lined up, right?”

Y/N closes her mouth. “I got that Sondheim musical in San Diego. It’s a workshop production, but if it goes well, it could go all the way to Broadway. I could end up in New York.”

“Good,” Dean says and smirks. “You’re fucking fired.”

“WHAT?!” Y/N’s mouth falls open again. “You said you’d never fire me!”

“Yeah, well, this is for your own good,” Dean reasons. “You think I’m gonna let you quit Sondheim for some stupid wrestling show in Vegas? You gotta be fucking nuts! This is what you fucking wanted. Don’t make me kick your stupid ass onto that stage. It’s gonna look embarrassing for you again…”

Y/N bites her lips to conceal her grin. Her eyes meet Jo’s, who mouths ‘I told you so’ at her. “Thank you,” she tells Dean and kisses his cheek. He furrows his brow at her in suspicion. “But rehearsals don’t start until June. Still gonna need a job till then.”

“Oh.” Dean’s brow shoots up in realization. “The June in nine months?”

“Yeah, the June in nine months,” Y/N confirms with a laugh.

“Whoops. Well, consider yourself rehired till June, then,” Dean relents.

“So, if I ever have to work in New York–”

“Then we’ll go to New York. Big fucking whoop-dee-doo. You know I hate LA.”

Y/N giggles, nodding. “What would you do in New York?”

“Same I do here, just on a little balcony instead of a backyard. I sit with my typewriter by a table and smoke and drink,” Dean retorts. “I’ve actually been working on a new script. I’m moving away from horror and into Western.”

“Got inspired by the motel’s wallpaper, huh?” Y/N teases. “What’s it about?”

“Father-daughter storyline. Thought I’d give that a shot…”

1990, 5 years later…

“Dean! We’re gonna be late!” Y/N reminds him and holds the blindfold in place over her eyes as he drags her somewhere by the hand. Her heels can barely keep up with his fast pace. “You know, check-in at LAX is the worst. Our flight departs in two hours. I’m nominated, Dean! I can’t reschedule! The girls are all flying in, too…”

“I know! I’m fucking hurrying, okay?” Dean assures. However, she can hear the stress and tension in his gravelly voice. He then suddenly halts and positions her into place by her shoulders before carefully taking off the blindfold. “Alright, here we are.”

Y/N blinks her eyes open and recognizes blurry shapes of purple and gold. She lifts an eyebrow as ornaments on the walls and a big stage come into view as well. “The Aztec porno theater?”

“Mayan,” Dean corrects her and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he gets down in front of her on one knee and tries to fumble out the too-big ring box from his too-tiny suit jacket pocket. “Son of a bitch!”

“Dean, wait!” Y/N stops his endeavor with raised palms, her eyebrows meeting her hairline when she realizes what he’s about to do.

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N!” Dean frowns in frustration and rises to his feet with a huff and a shaking head. “I know you’re against marriage and the patriarchy and all that bullshit, but c’mon… We’ve been dating for five years. We have a good thing going, right?”

After spending a whole year in beautiful Las Vegas – the Paris of Nevada – the two of them moved to New York. Dean sold his house in Burbank and opted for a Brooklyn apartment instead. Claire also studied film at NYU before she graduated last Spring. But every few months, the couple finds themselves back in LA – for interviews, for business, for friends.

“Dean–”

“No! You know me. I’d make a great fucking husband. You love it when I make reporters laugh on the red carpet. I’m an awesome trophy husband, okay?”

“DEAN!”

“WHAT?!”

Why the fuck is she angry now? He should be the one that’s angry. She’s turning down the best opportunity of her life. She should consider herself lucky he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. He even had an amazing speech prepared to knock her right off her feet, but does he get to say it now? How he wanted to grow fucking old together and support each other? How he wanted to marry her all those years ago when she told him she was pregnant? Nope...

“I’m fucking pregnant!”

Dean blinks at her in confusion before his eyes begin to wander around the familiar theater. Did he take something? Drink too much? Did he actually travel through time or is this a weird fever dream on his deathbed?

“What’s it with you and this theater? And why do you always yell that?”

“Because you never listen.” Y/N giggles and bites her lower lip. “And I’ll gladly marry you if that’s what you were going for. I just figured I’d tell you before in case you wanna change your mind and bail.”

“Why the fuck would I bail?” Dean’s brows knit together, close to offense.

She shrugs and holds up her palms in surrender. “I don’t know! I didn’t want you to feel trapped.”

“Why? Isn’t it mine?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, a grin twitching on her pink lips as she slaps his arm. “Yes, of course it’s yours.”

“And you’re keeping it? You sure?” Dean throws her a quizzical look.

Her brow furrows. “Why, you aren’t?”

“No, I am!” he assures her swiftly, realizing how it sounded. “Hell yeah, I want another kid! You know I always wanted to make up for missing out on Claire so much! I finally get to change a diaper, go to the park, or the fucking zoo while my wife works… It’ll be so fun!”

Y/N tries to stifle her laugh. He seems happy, judging by the joyful glint in his green eyes. They resemble sparkling emeralds.

“But are you sure, y' know?” Dean checks with a deep look into her eyes. “I mean, I do what I can to support you and keep the thing alive in your absence, but you know you’re still gonna be benched for a couple of months, right? I’m not a fucking seahorse.”

Y/N laughs a little at that. “I know. I’m fine with sitting on the bench for a little while. I’m kinda exhausted. I did two Broadway musicals almost back to back, three off-Broadway shows, all the workshops and the rehearsals and Matinees and the dancing and the singing… Not to mention I’m nominated for a fucking Tony tonight,” she says and is close to out of breath by the time she finishes her list of accomplishments.

“Which you’re gonna win,” Dean reassures her persistently. He’s been telling her since the nominations were announced (and even before that when he first saw her in the role on the first night).

“We’ll see,” she brushes him off, although her blushed cheeks betray her words. In her heart, she hopes so as well. “Anyways, I could use the break,” she admits and takes his hands in hers, interlacing their fingers. She places a loving kiss on his lips. “Right time, right guy, right baby,” she says, smiling.

Dean squeezes her hand happily and pulls her to his lips for a searing kiss. “So, where did we land on that whole marriage thing?”

“See? You’re never listening,” she teases, laughing. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Under one condition…”

Dean smirks. “I've had the same exact thought – Vegas. It’s perfect!”

“What, no! I don’t wanna get married in filthy Vegas, you dork!” Y/N frowns playfully, shaking her head. “I wanna get married in Nebraska. I want my dad to marry us."

Dean’s brow creases. He chuckles in amusement. “What, like a shotgun wedding? Could be fun… Pastor marries pregnant daughter to older man. Is this gonna make headlines in the townie paper?”

Y/N snorts, shaking her head at him. “No, it’s a shotgun wedding. It’s very common,” she deadpans.

“I’ve never met your parents,” Dean realizes then. “Why have I never met your parents? It’s weird they never come visit you,” he ponders.

“Oh no, they do,” Y/N tells him, pursing her lips as she twirls her hair around her finger. “They’ve seen me both in Into The Woods and Gypsy.”

“Really, when?” Dean narrows his eyes at her.

“Whenever you were in LA, visiting Claire,” Y/N admits ruefully. She never told them she was dating the director, not sure if they’d approve – not that she gives a shit, but she wanted to spare herself all the sermons and the exploring of the Sunday school dating pool. Whenever they asked who owned the men’s clothes in her apartment, she lied and said she had a gay-but-in-the-closet roommate. “But you can meet them now,” she promises with a reassuring smile on her lips. Thank God she’s an excellent, Tony-nominated actress. “I’m sure they learn to love you just like I did.”

“Learn to?”

“I love you.” Y/N smiles mischievously and shuts up any further comments by kissing him.

Dean grins and relents with a blissful sigh. “I love you, too.”

THE END 🌅

Thank you all so much for reading and making me laugh with your comments and screams throughout! 🤍

Are we done with these two for good? Probably not. I've left gaps and doors open on purpose, so I'm sure they'll make an appearance again at some point in the future 😉

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70

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bigfan-fanfic · 5 days

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Got A Problem With That? (Male!Reader x Dean Winchester)

@innerpiratefun Can you make a part 2 of Dean Winchester x Male Reader he's a mechanic in California, it's my favorite fic also could you include a part where Sam realizes the collar and says something to dean but dean doesn't take it off or something like that, btw love your fics

Here's PART 1

"He's good at that stuff. Maybe better than you." Dean smirks at his little brother.

Sam scoffs. Skeptical.

Dean chuckles, turning up the music.

They've left you back at the motel - there's no way you're letting Dean travel off alone for this journey, but you're also not skilled in monster hunting, so you've made yourself useful through research.

You're currently compiling a little database on monsters through research and the brothers' anecdotes.

You're not very happy about being dragged into a search for John Winchester, but you want to support Dean, who seems to have genuinely missed his brother.

Besides, apparently Sam tried to leave, but was driven into a deeper need for vengeance when his girlfriend was killed in the same way as their mom.

"You're pretty, ah, serious with him, yeah?" Sam asks again. In the two weeks since you started traveling together, Sam has asked this quite a few times.

"Yeah." Dean responds shortly - as he has each time. He knows their dad might be weird about it. Knows he and Sam weren't exactly raised to even know about sexuality besides heterosexuality.

They both know things, but it's still... awkward to see each other after so long and have to share that.

Dean's been wearing a leather jacket and many layers - trying a little harder not to let his collar show.

It's technically just a necklace, but it serves the same purpose.

You have a thicker leather one for play, but for just wearing, it's a black chain of twisted links attached to a black circle. It's not particularly noticeable, but it is distinctive.

"So... what's this?" Sam asks, reaching out and pointing at the necklace.

Dean tenses as if about to smack Sam's hand away, as if thinking he was going to touch the necklace. "Y/N gave it to me."

"Oh. It's... nice."

"Thanks."

Sam clears his throat, uncomfortable. "Looks kinda like a BDSM thing."

Dean winces. And that tells Sam all he needs to know.

He chuckles a little. "Wow, Dean."

"Shut up." Dean growls. He's not laughing.

"Jeez..." Sam smirks, happy to get under his skin. "I was just-"

"It's something special to my partner and me. That's all you need to know. And all I feel like telling you. Got it?"

"Okay."

The drive is unbearably awkward, especially on the way to take down another spirit.

"Dean?" Sam asks as they park.

"Yeah?" Dean asks gruffly.

"I'm... I'm happy you're that close with someone. I wanted to have what you have with... with Jess."

Dean shifts uncomfortably. But he doesn't protest or shy away - you've helped him learn to communicate and part of that is listening.

"So yeah. It's really cool that you have a partner you're so close to. You're a lot less of a douche than you were." Sam chuckles.

"Yeah. Th-thanks."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam makes to open his door. "How'd you pull a guy so much smarter than you, anyway?"

They leave the car, already more relaxed.

"Yeah, well, it's actually a funny story..."

#dean winchester x male reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural headcanons #headcanons #supernatural x reader #male reader

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whenleticiafallsinlove · 1 month

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“the french mistake”

dean winchester x fem!reader

synopsis: Dean finds himself married to the actress Alice Smith, who plays Y/N. When he comes back, he confesses his love to Y/N.

warnings: english is not my first language, i apologize for any mistakes. FLUFF!

The journey through the rift was disorienting, to say the least. One moment, we were facing off against a particularly nasty nest of vampires, and the next, we found ourselves in a world that defied all logic and reason. A world where we were nothing but characters in a television show, our lives scripted and our struggles merely entertainment for an audience.

As we navigated this strange alternate reality, trying to make sense of our surroundings, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. And then, I saw her. Y/N L/N, the character I had fought alongside countless times, brought to life by an actress named Alice Smith.

It was surreal, seeing her standing there, so vibrant and alive. And yet, there was a familiarity to her that transcended the boundaries of fiction. It was as if I had known her all my life, as if our souls were connected in a way I couldn’t begin to comprehend.

But it wasn’t until we found ourselves in the midst of a lavish Hollywood party, surrounded by people who bore an uncanny resemblance to our friends and enemies, that the truth began to dawn on me. In this reality, I was married to Alice Smith, the actress who played Y/N L/N

At first, I was in denial. How could I be married to someone I barely knew, someone who was nothing more than a figment of my imagination brought to life? But as we delved deeper into this alternate world, I couldn’t ignore the undeniable chemistry between us. It was as if fate itself had conspired to bring us together, across the vast expanse of the multiverse.

And yet, even as I tried to convince myself that my feelings for Alice were real, there was a nagging voice in the back of my mind. A voice that whispered of another reality, where Y/N L/N existed not as a character on a television screen, but as a living, breathing woman.

It wasn’t until we finally found our way back to our own reality that I realized the truth. My heart belonged to Y/N, not Alice. And I knew I had to tell her, no matter the consequences.

So, with a mixture of apprehension and determination, I sought her out, my heart pounding in my chest as I prepared to lay bare my soul.

“Y/N,” I began, my voice trembling with emotion as I looked into her eyes, “there’s something I need to tell you. Something… complicated.”

She regarded me with a curious expression, her eyes searching mine for any hint of what was to come. “Dean, what’s going on?”

Taking a deep breath, I plunged ahead, “In the other reality, the one we were just in, I was married to Alice Smith. But more than that, I… I realized I have feelings for you. For Y/N.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, her lips parting slightly as she processed my confession. “Dean, I… I don’t even know what to say. This is… a lot to take in.”

I nodded, understanding the weight of my words. “I know it’s a lot to process, but I needed to be honest with you. I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer.”

There was a moment of silence between us, the air thick with unspoken emotions. And then, to my surprise and relief, Y/N spoke, her voice soft but resolute, “Dean, I don’t fully understand what happened in that other reality, but I do know that I feel a connection to you, too. Maybe not exactly how it was there, but… there’s something here.”

My heart skipped a beat at her words, hope blossoming within me like a flower in bloom. “Y/N…”

Before I could say anything else, she closed the distance between us, her lips meeting mine in a tender kiss. It was like a dam breaking, releasing a flood of pent-up emotions that had been building between us for far too long.

As we pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, I couldn’t help but smile, a sense of peace settling over me like a warm blanket on a cold night. “Wow,” was all I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled back, her eyes shining with a newfound certainty. “Wow, indeed.”

But our moment of bliss was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Sam, Crowley, and Castiel, their expressions a mix of shock and amusement.

“Uh, guys?” Sam started, his eyebrows raised in disbelief as he took in the scene before him.

Crowley, ever the wit, quipped, “Well, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes? Dean Winchester, the hopeless romantic.”

Castiel simply observed, his gaze shifting between us with a mixture of curiosity and understanding.

Y/N and I exchanged a sheepish glance before bursting into laughter, the tension of the moment dissipating like mist in the morning sun.

“Looks like we’ve got some explaining to do,” I said, already bracing myself for the inevitable barrage of questions and teasing.

But as I glanced at Y/N, her hand finding mine in a silent gesture of solidarity, I knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, we would face them together. After all, our love had transcended realities, proving that sometimes, the most unexpected connections are the most profound.

#supernatural #dean winchester #the french mistake #dean winchester reader #supernatural reader #dean winchester fluff #fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader

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kaleldobrev · 8 months

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Shiny New Toy (5) - Finale

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: After everything that happened, how will your relationship change with Dean? Will it be for better or for worse?

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Age Gap (a “warning” that I kept forgetting to put on these fics but have been updated now), Cursing (9x), Mentions of kinks (pain, degradation & praise), Sad Dean, Self-Blaming Behavior, Smut (P in V - unprotected)

Authors Note: Okay gang! Here is the 5th and final part of my Demon!Dean mini-series! I just want to thank everyone who has read, commented & shared this. Originally when I posted part one, I wasn’t sure how well this was going to be received, but it was received incredibly well and I’m honestly in awe. Thank you for coming on this little journey with me. This may be the end of “Shiny New Toy” but this won’t be the end of Demon!Dean content from me (I love the man too damn much) | 18+ Only Please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Shiny New Toy Masterlist

You were lying in bed completely under the sheets as if in a cave. All the lights were off, and the door was closed. Despite the hallway light always being on, Sam had turned it off for you so it could be completely dark — and for that you were grateful. Complete and utter silence filled the room, and it amazed you how quiet the Bunker truly was despite what was happening down the hall from you. Sam was in the dungeon with Dean finally curing him. It took Sam two weeks to find you and Dean, and during those two weeks it was day after day of Dean using you as if you were this shiny new toy. After the first day you expected the novelty of you being a virgin to wear off, but it didn’t. You remembered something that he said to you during one of those long days (you honestly lost track after day three or four). “You’re mine, no one else’s,” he whispered aggressively in your ear as he came deep inside of you.

There was a part of you that strangely enjoyed the sex that Dean and you had. It was the kind of sex you never expected you’d ever have (let alone with Dean). It was rough, needy, almost animalistic in nature. There was a certain type of pleasure that you seemed to have when slight pain or degradation was involved — something you never found yourself ever gravitating towards previously.

When Sam had finally found the two of you it must of been an absolute sight for him to see. His older brother balls deep inside their best friend, someone Sam considered a sister. You remembered the evil type of laugh that exited Dean, how amused he was when Sam walked in. "Want to try her out? She's a good fuck, loves it real rough too," Dean had said. The worst part of it? You remember clenching around him and almost came at his words, which only caused his smirk to grow wider.

You didn't know what you were going to say when you ultimately faced Dean again. What even was there to say? Would he remember doing any of those things to you or would he go about his business like nothing ever happened? To be honest, you weren't sure what you had wanted more: for him to remember or to forget.

Dean found himself in his room again after months of being away and it was in the exact same condition as when he had left it, besides the note he had left for you and Sam. Turning on the light he stared at the empty bed before him and there were two thoughts in his mind. The first was how much he just wanted to lay down and fall asleep for the next couple of months (the tiredness was now starting to hit him); the second was to just find you and apologize. Well, more like beg for your forgiveness.

He remembered everything, everything that he did to you over the course of the two weeks that he had you down in Hell. He remembered all of the degrading things he said to you, called you. He remembered all of the things he made you do, did to you. Despite everything that happened between the two of you during those two long weeks there was something that he was having trouble with: the way you reacted to his touch and how it changed over the course of the two weeks. On the first day he had you, the way you acted wasn't unreasonable, you were afraid and you had every right to be — there was no telling what he would do to you. But throughout the first day, he started to notice small changes in your behavior, in your reactions when he touched you; but he wasn't entirely sure if he was just misremembering or not (a lot happened in those two weeks). But, he could have sworn that you were actually enjoying it, enjoying the way he was speaking to you, essentially using you for his own pleasure. "It's not about you," he told you — and it wasn't. That's what he was struggling with, he was unsure if you were actually enjoying it or just pretending: he could see cases for both.

Dean walked over to his closet and pushed some clothes aside, his whiskey stash was still intact. Picking up the still full bottle, he held it in his hands and contemplated if he was even going to bother to get a glass or not. "Fuck it," he said, unscrewing the cap and taking a giant swig from the bottle. He stood there for a moment in front of the closet taking a few sips before settling down on his bed, the bottle practically glued to his hand.

As he attempted to relax, he reached for the remote but before he could there was a subtle knock at the door. "What?" He said, far too aggressively.

"Sorry I'll...I'll come back later," it was you and you sounded disappointed, sad. Within seconds he heard you walking away down the hallway, and he was mentally kicking himself to responding the way he did. As soon as he heard your door close he placed the bottle of whiskey on his bedside table and got up from his bed.

Once closing your door you sat down in front of it hugging your knees close to your chest. You heard footsteps outside your door and a soft sigh before someone knocked — it was probably Dean. "Hey, it's...it's me," he said, his voice sounding relatively more calm than it did not even two minutes ago.

"What?" You responded back, your voice matching what his sounded like previously.

"I deserve that," he mumbled, "and a lot worse..." he trailed off. "I uh, did you want to talk or...I didn't mean to snap like that, I thought you were Sam."

"Even if it was Sam you shouldn't have snapped like that," you said, Dean couldn't help but agree. "But I'll let it slide given the situation." From the way your voice sounded, it was like you were the one apologizing — something that you shouldn't be doing.

"Can I come in? Or did you want to talk through the door?" He asked, his tone was serious. "I'm fine with either I just...whatever you're comfortable with Sweetheart." The way he said Sweetheart had almost sounded as if he was actually struggling to say the nickname, like he felt bad saying it.

"Yeah you can...you can come in," you said, your voice low as you started to get up from in front of the door. As you opened the door you heard Dean step back a few feet in order to give you space. Upon opening it he was leaning back against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his pants. "Hey," you slightly mumbled.

"Hey," he replied back. You stood off to the side and looked at him, gesturing him to come inside your bedroom. At first the look on his face was hesitant, unsure if he had actually wanted to come in even though that's all he had wanted to do. After a moment of exchanging looks and a reassuring smile from you, he slowly made his way past you into your room, making sure he didn't touch you.

"You can sit down on my bed if you want to," you stated as you started to close the door behind you.

"Are you sure?" His tone hesitant.

"Of course," you reassured him.

"Okay," he nodded and sat down on the edge of your bed. Despite how comfortable your bed was, Dean somehow looked extremely uncomfortable sitting there. "If you want to keep the door open you can."

"Why would I want to keep the door open? Closing the door is more private," his comment confused you slightly.

"I just want you to feel safe," his voice low.

"I always feel safe with you," your voice matching his, but yours sounded more confident. He scoffed at your comment, "What?"

"After everything I did, I should be the last person you should feel safe around," the usual warmness he had in his voice wasn’t there, his voice sounded hard, cold, with slight amusement. Like he sounded genuinely surprised that you stated you still felt safe around him.

"You're not a demon anymore Dean, so there's really no reason for me not to feel unsafe. I mean, you're not planning on...hurting me right?" You hated asking that, but you had to prove a point to him.

He scoffed again. "Of course not. I would ne—" he didn't bother to finish his sentence, he just looked down at the ground no longer making eye contact with you. "Hurting you is the last thing I'd want to do," he sighed, mumbling his words. "And look how that turned out."

"It wasn't entirely your fault Dean. You weren't completely yourself," you said. "You were a demon, and you became one against your will, it was something that was out of your control."

"Don't try and justify the way I treated you Y/N," he sounded so hurt, and you felt your heart breaking again. "What I did to you was beyond fucked."

"Then I guess I'm the fucked up one because I enjoyed 95% of it," your eyes grew wide, you didn't mean for those words to come out but they did. You felt your heart starting to sink now, and you felt your cheeks start to get hot — they were probably bright pink with embarrassment.

Dean looked at you, trying to process the sentence that you just said. Your statement had confirmed his suspicions, well, more like confirmed what he was trying to remember. "You weren't faking it?" He asked, trying to make sure he understood.

"No," you let out a deep breath. "At first I didn't enjoy it but after a while I don't know I just..." you felt slightly embarrassed saying it, but it was the truth, you knew how fucked up it sounded. "The only thing I pretended was you not being a demon during it."

"Sweetheart, I don't mean to make light of the situation but I do have a slight question," he said.

"What's your question?" You asked.

"Do you have a, again, I'm not trying to make light of the situation but, I just need to clarify to make sure I'm understanding what you're telling me." He got up from the bed and started making his way toward you, your back was still leaning up against the door. "Do you have a pain and degradation kink?"

"It sounds so simple when you put it that way," you stated. "But uh...I guess I do."

"Huh," was all he said. "Don't take this the wrong way but, I never pegged you as someone into that kind of thing," his voice sounding slightly amused.

"I'm just as surprised as you are," you let out a breathy type of laugh, almost embarrassed. "But um...I do want to experience normal sex."

Dean's lips turned into a grin. His once sad self-blaming face turning into the complete opposite now; it now radiated a certain smugness or amusement. "Normal sex uh?"

Six Months Later...

You were lying on your back underneath Dean, one of your legs over his shoulder as he slowly moved in and out of you, hitting the exact right spot each and every time. Letting out a tiny moan you shut your eyes, and you moved your hands so they were now gripping the headboard behind you. "So fucking beautiful," Dean slightly whispered kissing your inner thigh; his slight scruff feeling nice against your skin. He felt you starting to clench around him, and the smirk that he had on his face had started to grow. "So good for me," he praised, slightly whispering again.

"Dean..." you moaned softly, almost a whimper.

"Yeah Sweetheart?" He asked, kissing your inner thigh again.

"Can I..." you started to say, but your thoughts got quickly interrupted when Dean completely pulled himself out of you before practically slamming himself back inside of you, "Fuck," you said a bit louder than you were expecting.

"Sweetheart I am in the middle of fucking you," you could hear the smirk on his lips.

"Sm-smartass," your voice coming out as a slight moan. "Can I...can I please cum?"

"Well since you asked so nicely..." his voice trailed off, his movements picking up their pace. Based on the speed and the way his hips were moving, you could tell that he was starting to get close too. He took your other leg and draped it over his other shoulder, which caused him to feel even deeper than he had been before. "You may."

With a few more thrusts and praises from him, you felt yourself starting to let go, coming around his cock, your orgasm hitting you harder than you had expected it to. "Fuckk," you threw your head back, shutting your eyes.

"That's it Sweetheart," he praised again. You couldn't help but curse again, a long string of profanities leaving your mouth. They almost didn't even sound like curses; more like whimpers and moans mixed with words that didn't even sound like anything. Dean was close behind you, the sounds that had escaped you had gotten him to a point where he was moments away from coming. He heard you say his name, and upon hearing you moan it he started to cum deep inside of you, his own orgasm hitting harder than he had thought, similar to how yours was.

Once both of you had come down from your highs, Dean laid down next to you on his side propping himself up with his elbow as he looked at you, breathing slightly heavy next to him still on your back. Your legs and arms were completely flat, almost as if you were afraid to move. "You okay Sweetheart?" He asked, giving your bare shoulder a kiss.

You turned to him, giving him a soft smile, "More than okay," you replied. "Round three in ten?"

He chuckled at your question. "How about thirty?" He asked, and your face dropped. "We need to refuel baby," he explained, his hand patting your thigh.

"Fine," you said, your voice slightly stubborn.

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