#for those moments when dean is being an asshat

[supernatant]

Jimmy: He doesn’t deserve you! If he doesn’t treat you right by now, you’re gone.

Castiel: I’m gone.

Jimmy: Now go chop his dick off-

#jimmy @ cas during the divorce arc #castiel #supernatural #jimmy novak #spn #for those moments when dean is being an asshat #incorrect quotes #source: vine

[this-is-spn20]

Yandere!Sam Winchester Headcanons

A/N: yes i know I dipped out for a few months but I got inspo for this from browsing another fandom and tried looking for yandere fics of our favorite boys but couldn’t find any! If you want something right, you have to do it yourself lol. Requests are always open! 

Spread Love! 

-Marissa

WARNING: These headcanons are written with an unaware/unwilling reader! There will be the theme of stalking, harassment, unwanted attention, manipulation, and abuse (not sexual). Please do not read this if you are not comfortable with these graphic stories. Your consumption of media is not my responsibility.

***MDNI***

I DID NOT COME UP WITH THE LIST. ALL RIGHTS GO TO @dear-yanderee !

Word Count: 4,428

Suggested song while listening: Be My Queen by Seafret

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Sam may be (slightly) delusional, but he’s smart. And can be a bit sadistic, but he’s smarter than the average person, that’s for sure. Using his computer knowledge to spy on any and all social media you have. Hacking into your account while you were sleeping (he never made the effort of watching you in person, no no doll, you could possibly see him and it’d ruin everything. Just wait for him, Just a little bit longer.). He knew when you were sleeping because your laptop or phone wouldn’t have any activity for a while, meaning he could snoop around for a bit before you woke up. Took him weeks to dig through every square inch of your online life All your records, he’d print them out and clear his history so as to not set off Dean’s alarms or interest. Even though Dean knows something is up. 

Compared to Dean, Sam just knows how to persuade you into liking him. Incorporating himself into your life without you knowing. Making himself ‘small’, a background character.  That dickbag that bumped into you while walking in the park when there was CLEARLY enough room for him to pass by without nearly knocking you down (he didn’t even bother being gentle), well at that time, you didn’t know what a bad day truly was. Hell, if you’d just run up to him and cursed him out, you probably would’ve saved yourself a lot of grief. Probably. (Honestly, it probably would’ve made him more intrigued.) 

Working double, sometimes even triple shifts, are bad enough. But when your job is to stock shelves in the only (and by proxy) biggest store in town, it’s just more strain and stress. So when some big old, lanky, buff asshat shows up in your store and almost completely wrecks one of your perfectly stocked shelves, you get a tiny bit upset. As you take two carts to take all the stuff down, your boss radios you to tell you to have two more shelves stocked up before your next break for the big sale. And to tell you that you’re on call for the rest of the week. Whoever that asshole was, you wished to see him so you could tell him about himself. Or beat his ass. Or both.

Little did poor, naive little you know that over the course of those first five, horrible, months that Sam was programming your mind already. You never saw his face, but he was showing that, while he could make your life so unbearable at a moment's notice, but he chose to do good. To do right by you. He showed how bad it could get before he swooped in and put on his deadly charm. First coming up to you in the store while you were stocking an aisle and asking where the candles were. When you told him, he thanked you and struck up a conversation. Using everything he knew you’d like to hear to rope you in. He made sure the first time you met him, you’d never forget him. Ever. 

Now you’re just his little doll. Doomed to be locked up in the dungeon until you proved to be good for him. Then love, you’ll be allowed in his room! You may even get your privileges back. Only if you’re a good girl for him. Just for him.  He knew it was only a matter of time now before you break. He just had to be a little more patient. Then you were all his. 

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s start over, shall we darlings?

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Giving gifts is his forte. When hacking into your computer, he made sure to make a list of your likes and dislikes. He knows your favorite movies, political views, your full name and date of birth, your blood type, your father’s dog’s name, everything. He saw the things you liked to buy online. Things you saved to your carts but could never afford to buy at the moment. So whatever is in your cart from whatever website, no matter the price, Sam takes it upon himself to buy the items and have them sent as gifts to your house. Anonymously of course. He loved seeing your face light up with surprise terror as you opened your door to yet another package on your porch with more items you planned on buying at the end of the month. If you could afford it of course. You wondered who was sending these packages. Someone you knew? But, you rarely showed anyone these wished possessions of yours. Was someone… watching you? I mean you always felt this… uneasy feeling in your chest lately. Maybe you should schedule a check-up with the doc. 

Giving gifts is his forte. When hacking into your computer, he made sure to make a list of your likes and dislikes. He knows your favorite movies, political views, your full name and date of birth, your blood type, your father’s dog’s name, everything. He saw the things you liked to buy online. Things you saved to your carts but could never afford to buy at the moment. So whatever is in your cart from whatever website, no matter the price, Sam takes it upon himself to buy the items and have them sent as gifts to your house. Anonymously of course. He loved seeing your face light up with surprise **terror** as you opened your door to yet another package on your porch with more items you planned on buying at the end of the month. If you could afford it of course. You wondered who was sending these packages. Someone you knew? But, you rarely showed anyone these wished possessions of yours. Was someone watching you? You always felt this… uneasy feeling in your chest lately. Maybe you should schedule a check-up with the doc. 

First, it was some makeup and a few nice dresses you wanted. You figured you’d still somehow ordered them. Even though your bank account didn't reflect such purchases. Still not convincing, even to yourself but, it was better than dwelling on ‘what-if’ questions. But as the gifts kept coming you got more and more… **concerned.** You’d confronted your coworker later the day after your umpteenth package. You told him that you appreciated his company while stocking the shelves, but you didn’t feel anything for him. To your annoyance, your coworker responded in complete confusion. When you told him to stop feigning ignorance he was positively confused. You and he didn’t know each other that well outside of work, so for this to be coming from you made him a bit angry. When you plainly told him what you thought had been doing, he told you to be careful, but he wasn’t the one doing it. In hindsight, you thought it was nice of him to express his concern. When he offered to walk you to your car that night, you were skeptical, but you let him do it. 

Sam didn’t take too kindly to that.

But Sam decided to cool down on the packages. Now he thought was the time to make himself more involved in your day-to-day life. Small run-ins, nothing alarming but you knew who he was now. It started with him paying for your favorite drink at the local cafe you loved so much. He kept his cool and acted like it was just such a coincidence to run into you! How have you been holding up? He even took to finishing your book collection for your most recent series. Maybe taking to replace your worn books. You didn’t notice until you picked up one of your favorite novels and had to crack the spine. Indicating it was brand new. Things really got intense when you walked out to your car one morning and saw all your tires were replaced. When you got in, a note on your steering wheel simply said, “Your tires we going bald. You’re welcome.”  You started getting more scared as the days passed. This person managed to get into not just your car, but also your house. A safe place. Your heaven. At least that’s what it used to be. 

You were terrified to leave your house every day. 

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Well, Sam being Sam prefers to keep his hands clean as much as possible. Plus him hurting anyone close to you will make you even more challenging to get. He also knows what losing someone feels like. Even more than you actually. Why would he choose to make things harder between you two if being with you and only you is his ultimate goal? Come on, don’t be silly. It’d do nothing for him to see you so hurt. Who wants to see their soulmate in pain? 

Unless it was absolutely necessary.

Like maybe one day you’re feeling a bit rowdy. You have a lot of fight, Sam had to give that to you. But why are you so insistent on staying apart? He can’t love you from afar, he refuses to live without your love. He’ll do anything to keep you with him. But as patient as Sam could be, there are only so many times you can push his buttons, love. Now if you keep fighting, I’ll have to punish you. We don’t want that, do we? After all, broken bones take a long time to heal… But don’t you worry princess, he’ll fix you right up!

With mandatory bed rest included.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Sam is a very loving person, so he wouldn’t really mock you at all. If you’re not trying to escape. If you are, you can expect to be tsked at and hear phrases such as

“Oh darling, I thought you knew better than to try something so stupid.”

“If you wanted to wear your chain today, you could’ve asked love.” 

“Princess, you can’t get away from me. I will always see through your little plan. Your eyes tell me everything.”

If you’ve managed to piss him off (which takes a lot of effort so… go you?), you can expect him to leave you with more cuts and bruises than you could imagine. Just remember love, the more you fight, the angrier he gets…

And no, your begging and pleading will get you nowhere. But it hurts him more than it does you. You deserved it. It was for your own good darling. Trust him.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

No. Absolutely not. Sam knows love will come with time. He would never hurt you by doing anything you didn’t want him to. Including simply touching you (but isolation is a bitch babe.). Honestly, the only thing he is willing to do against your will is feed you. Especially if you go on a hunger strike. He will not allow anyone to hurt you. Not even you, and damn sure not him. He’d probably force-feed you through a tube. Same thing with being hydrated. He can't let his good girl starve now, can he? What kind of man would he be to let that happen, princess?

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Sam gives his whole heart and soul to you. He is a straight sucker for you honestly. He dotes on you a lot. Tries spoiling you with things he knows you’ll like. If you weren't in chains…

He tries to get you to open up to him by telling you everything about himself. To hunting, to what his favorite pair of socks were in middle school. Sam shows you sides of himself that not even Jessica got to see. He doesn't want to scare you so he almost shrinks himself to be smaller. Less threatening. Less dangerous. Honestly, if you’re smart, you could use this against him. You can start slowly opening up to him. Give as little information as possible and start planning your escape. Sam won't trust you to be out of the dungeon, or even your chains, for a while. But you’ve got nothing but time daring. 

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

At first, it’d be almost amusing. If it didn’t happen so much he’d probably get a chuckle out of it. He hates having to use forceful ways to calm you down but he has no choice. He’s used more chloroform than he’d like but it was worth it. But the chemical burns on your face make him really emotional. He may look into paralyzing spells to quail your attempts. If he does find such a spell, you’re fucked. Not completely, but it's not looking good for you, love. He feels like you both are in some loop. Like a cat-and-mouse game, though it’s getting tedious. 

There is one upside to this though. These attempts of escape and fights give him an idea of how your brain works. Your fight style, and the ways you attempt to run from him and the bunker, give him more useful information and ways to stop your plans. Eventually, you can’t get out of the dungeon without at least 5 alarms tipping off Sam before you can even turn the door nob. Do with this information as you will, darling.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This is not a game to him. This isn't amusing in the slightest bit. Watching you try to get away from him hurts him deeply. You two are soulmates. Why can't you see this? Why run from him when he can give you the world. He waits on you hand and foot. He caresses you with the lightest touch. He gives you almost everything you ask from him. He will bring you the biggest, brightest star in the universe if you just love him, and let him love you. Open up to him. Adore him, like he adores you. Get lost in him and everything he is, like he does with you. You’ll do that for him, right doll?

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Believe it or not, but your worst experience with Sam wasn't when he occasionally snapped at you for your smart mouth. It wasn’t when he forced you to eat to keep yourself alive for him. Always for him. 

It wasn’t even the time he came back from a hunt gone wrong and an argument with Dean once again, and Sam had come into the dungeon for the first time in a week. When he tried to land a kiss on your cheek, you’d headbutt him. Sam snapped and hurled harsh words your way, and you were struggling against the chains, Sam had enough of your shit so he grabbed your arm and slowly, very, very slowly twisted it behind your back until, through your screaming, you heard a sickening crack from your arm. Your ear-splitting screaming was heard throughout the whole bunker and you collapsed into darkness. Praying that this was your end. But when you woke up to some beige room on an old musty bed with a cast on your arm, you couldn’t stop the sob that ripped through your chest. Only for Sam to immediately wrapped his arms around you and coo at your tears rolling into his shirt. Declaring he’d never bring harm to you again, although the scars covering your skin told you otherwise. 

No, you see, the worst experience for you, dealing with Sam, was the day you realized you needed him. That you loved him. How could you not see it earlier? Sam’s doting nature, his soft smile, the obsession adoring look in his eyes, his velvet touch. Everything that was him. You loved him. You loathed him. He took everything from you, yet had given you so much. He gave himself to you. Trusted you with his very soul. And here you were. Being selfish, greedy, mean-spirited, reclusive, disrespectful, and just plain stupid. Sam could have anyone he wanted. But he wanted you, and you had the audacity to not love him back? Stupid and horrible. You hoped it wasn’t too late to win his heart.

Wait. This… isn’t right. Is it?

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He wants to enable you in all of your passions and hobbies. He wants the not-exactly-white-picket-fence-lifeTM with you. You and the front porch relaxing, watching him work in the front yard and you smiling at him ever so brightly. He wants to watch you take care of your plants and gardens, in a huge house that he worked so hard to get for you. For the both of you. Watching you take care of your many dogs and cats around the house.

And running after you around the living room and kitchen, just to catch you. Him carrying you up the stairs while looking into each other's eyes. Him smirking down at you, knowing it's gonna be another long night of passionate sex and lovemaking. In the morning, waking you up with gentle kisses and licks and biting. Teasing you out of your dreams. Dreams filled with nothing but him. Going into the kitchen to help you make breakfast. You lightly scolded him after him messing up, because he could help thinking how sexy you look in his shirts. Passion-filled make-out sessions with teenage-level humping and grinding. Sam always finds himself in these fantasies, only to snap back into reality all too soon. Then he remembers you must be so cold and hungry in that old dungeon. But he knows that one day he’ll get to live out all of that with you and so much more. Not today, but one day. 

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Well, he doesn’t have to be jealous because you don't even go outside… 

Though he does keep a close eye on Dean. Knowing how he can be. 

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Sam is ecstatic when you finally allow him to touch you. His hands have been itching to cover every single inch of your body. He loves the way your skin feels on his hardened calloused hands. Your skin was still a bit rough from the scars Sam’s hands left behind. Those same hands touching you as if you were the best prize on earth. And to Sam, you definitely were. Kisses galore. When you initiated the first kiss, it was hesitant and a bit clumsy, but Sam cherished the way your lips trembled against his. Nothing mattered to him anymore at that moment. Only you. Always you. 

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

As stated before, Sam relished the fact that you (subconsciously) knew he was always there. Sam always found a way to be a background character in your life. A supporting role. If you will. Always the blurry face in the crowd. But always there. 

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Oh yes. He is very much different in different environments. He’ll coddle and hug and kiss you near death. He’s almost always in a good mood when he’s spending time with you. Happy BoiTM. When he’s with Dean, he’s pretty normal. They typical brother teasing, the good moments, the bad ones. Sam acts like he always acted before you came along and rocked his world. The same goes for Donna, Jody, Alez, and Claire. The interactions are the same. But when with you, he can't focus on anything else but you. That's also the reason why he won't bring his research into the dungeon/room when you're there. He wants to show you that he can separate work and home life. With you, he lets his obsession love for you run free. He just can’t hide how he feels about you, love. Also, cause he can’t focus with you around. 

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Isolation mostly, yet if you show yourself to be resistant to that, he’ll use physical pain and manipulation.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Almost all of your rights are taken from you. You can’t use any means of communication (unless you found some way to get hold of a spell.), You aren’t allowed to use any electronics unless Sam is practically attached to your skin. The only thing you can do is use the bathroom alone. Sam will allow you a few minutes in there depending on what you’re doing. But he’s taking everything that helps you escape out of there, even the mirror… You can’t be alone when you shower though. Sam will stand there, in the hot and humid bathroom and watch your every move as you shower. When you’re done, he’ll help you dry off and help you rub your lotion on your now rough and scared skin with nothing but utter devotion swimming in his eyes. Your night clothes will be put on by him as well. All of this will be done with the lightest, silk touch. 

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Extremly patient. Most days, he’ll put up with you and your shenanigans. But some days, when he’s in a bad mood or just generally tense, he’ll have a shorter fuse. You’ve learned to follow his orders on these days. Lest you’d like to go back into the dungeon…

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Sam would never let you go easily so I’d say death really could be your only escape, and even then, thats not a guarantee. He could always make a crossroads deal, or bargain with Crowley. Hell he’d even try bargaining with Death himself. He’ll torture a thousand demons to get you back. Sam will walk through Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven to get to you. Sam will go as far as kill himself in hopes he can follow you to heaven be with you eternally. Sure he’d feel guilty about leaving Dean, but he’d be with you. He can live with that. After all, how many times had Dean left him, only to beg Sam to move on?

Now if you had escaped and were able to stay hidden, either by the help of some angels or demons or the other he’ll search the ends of the Earth to find you. If he wasn’t able to find you by himself, he’d enlist in Dean, Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex, Charlie, and other trusted hunters, hell he’d even ask Rowena to help. If all of them together weren’t able to find you, Sam would never get over you. He’d grieve you every day while you celebrate getting away from him.  

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

While Sam would never let you go, he’d feel incredibly guilty about taking you away from your home, your friends, your family, and your life. With him, Dean, and John constantly moving around due to hunting, he knows exactly how you feel.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Yes, in fact, his childhood and early adult life were a factor, constantly losing new friends to the hunting life, and then losing Jessica, his father, Dean more than once, and more people he could count. This, as one would imagine, would leave an impression on even the toughest people. Not to mention being bullied at a young age and not being accepted in any social groups just for being who he was. So when he first saw you, he knew he wanted you, and he wouldn’t risk you not accepting him, or being taken from him. 

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Hearing you scream and cry makes his whole body shiver as tears sting in his eyes. He’d do anything you’d like to see you only smile for the rest of your days together. Hearing your sobs late into the night makes his body feel as if he’s being dipped into the hottest lakes of fire. You could swear one day, you could hear the cracking of his heart as he watched you cry one day. You’d also notice how his tears would fall at the same time as yours did. 

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

On days when you’d been extra good, he’d take you for a ride in the Impala up to his favorite stargazing hill and bring a book and blanket. He’d read to you as you zoned out watching the stars glitter in the skies. Wondering how peaceful the star would be. Millions of miles away from you. You’d appreciate the little bit of freedom, even though you still had to wear a collar. But at least your wrists could get a break from those iron chains. 

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

The more you behave, the more Sam takes you out. Not in public places just yet. But it will come with time. Just stick it out and eventually you go to pubic places together and then you can plan your escape and get away from Sam once and for all. But keep in mind, if you fail and get caught, Sam will likely never take you out again. And if by some miracle he does, he will literally handcuff your hands together. 

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

If you piss him off enough he’ll slice your skin to ribbons and remind you what happens to bad girls. If you keep disobeying him he might just break a few of your bones. You can’t escape if both of your legs are broken, can you darling?  He’ll break your mind by either isolation or some sort of mind spell. 

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He damn near kisses the dirt you walk on. This man is devoted to you. He’ll bring you every star you desire, he will kill every monster, buy everything you can ever want, hug you for however long to make you happy and feel safe. Anything doll, name anything and he’ll do it. 

Except kill Dean. Nice try love.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Sam would spend no more than a few months to a year pining over you. Using his time wisely before he just couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Even still, he was as calculated as ever in kidnapping retrieving you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Yes. You’ll be broken beyond repair if you don’t get out.

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A/N: I hope you all enjoyed these headcanons! I'm back baby! Requests are open!

Spread Love,

-Marissa

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You Matter To Me

Coda to 15x19

Wc: 2k, Tags: fluff, pie, happy ending, first kiss

Also on ao3

It’s been three weeks since they won, but Dean still isn’t happy.

He’s been driving around the country, searching for something he knows he won’t find. The thing he wants that he knows he can’t have. He lost his chance.

Eventually, he ends up at a diner.

Lulu’s Pies, it says in softly glowing neon cursive above the building.

The bell above the door chimes as Dean pushes it open and steps inside. It’s pleasantly warm compared to the cold night outside, but Dean still feels cold. At least on the inside.

He heads to the bar and sits down on one of the stools.

With a cursory and habitual glance around the diner, he realizes he’s the only one here. At least the only customer.

That makes sense, he supposes. It’s barely 3 AM and the diner is plopped in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. The only other signs of life in the area are the long winding road outside and the shitty old gas station a few miles back.

To be honest, Dean doesn’t quite know why he came here. Maybe he needed a break from the drive.

He wanted to get some pie - the place was literally named for its pies - but that was mainly out of habit rather than actual desire. It’s been hard to want any of the things he used to enjoy, not since…

He cuts off that train of thought with a scowl to himself.

The waitress, a sweet looking woman with long, wavy, dark blonde hair and deep blue eyes approaches Dean from the other side of the bar. “What can I get for you, sugar?” she asks with a warm voice, rich with a soft southern accent. It reminds him, inexplicably, of his mother.

“I-“ Dean stops. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly.

The waitress, Jenna, according to her name tag, smiles sympathetically. “That’s alright,” she says sweetly. “It can be hard to know what you want, especially when you lose someone dear to you.”

Dean frowns. “How did you-” He begins.

Jenna smiles sadly at Dean. “There are some things a mother just knows, and heartbreak is one of them.” Her eyes are understanding, and painfully blue - too close to Castiel’s eyes for comfort. Dean looks away. “You look like you could use a slice of pie,” she says, handing him a paper dessert menu, specifically made for this week. “They’re all made from scratch, and made from the heart. Take all the time you need, honey. I’ll be back with a cup of coffee for you, it’s on the house.”

Jenna’s words soothe something raw and stinging inside Dean, and he offers her a small smile as she heads back into the kitchen.

He looks over the menu with a tired sigh. Not too long ago, Dean would’ve killed to eat here. All the pies sound awesome, and something about the waitress makes it very clear she puts effort into her pies.

Still, his heart isn’t really in it.

When Jenna comes back with a mug of coffee and a smile, Dean nods thankfully, but shakes his head when she asks if he’s ready to order. “I just- I need more time,” he says.

He isn’t just talking about the food. Not anymore.

Jenna nods. “Just give me a call when you’re ready, hun,” and then she’s gone.

Dean isn’t really sure how long he sits there, staring blankly at the dessert menu, coffee warming up one of his hands, his soul feeling achingly empty.

He's snapped out of his stupor by the sound of the bell above the door chiming to indicate someone else entering.

Dean’s eyes are glued to the menu still, reading the blurb under Heartbreak Pie. It's a black bottomed cherry pie, and the picture stops him.

He hears footsteps walk over, but he ignores them. They come closer until the stranger sits down on the stool to the right of Dean.

Dean feels irritation flash through him briefly, the diner is completely empty, and Dean’s positive he’s radiating “leave me alone” vibes, but for some reason the stranger decides to sit next to him anyway.

The irritation is gone as fast as it appeared however, Dean just doesn’t have the energy. Not anymore.

A couple days after they’d won, after Jack had left and Sam had reunited with a newly brought back Eileen, Dean had broken down in the bunker.

He’d lost it a little, had cried and cried and cried for days. Begging and pleading and praying. But Cas hadn’t come back.

Not long after, the sadness had turned to anger. Anger at Cas, for making the deal in the first place. For loving Dean so much it killed him. For telling him and then leaving before Dean could say it back. Anger at Jack, for dying and causing the deal, for becoming God and not bringing Cas back, for leaving Dean just like Cas had, just like Sam.

But mostly, Dean had been angry with himself. For not saying it back when Cas told him, for just standing there, for being the reason Cas died, for being too stubborn and too scared to say anything sooner, back when he’d had the chance. He was angry at himself for not being everything that Cas apparently thought he was.

Those few days were fueled entirely by anger in Dean’s opinion. He knew, deep down, that the anger was caused by love, but he didn’t want to think about that. Because if Cas was right, if he was right about Dean then there really wasn’t any good reason why Dean had never said anything.

Those few days were fueled entirely by anger. He knew, deep down, that the anger was caused by love, but he didn’t want to think about that. Because if Cas was right, if he was right about Dean then there really wasn’t any good reason why Dean had never said anything.

Nowadays though, Dean just felt numb. He drives around in Baby with the hopes of bringing something back into his life, but nothing helps.

He almost missed it, he was so lost in thought, and he barely caught the tail end of Jenna asking the stranger what she could “-get for you, dear?”

“I’ll have a slice of cherry pie,” came the low and gravelly voice, and Dean’s heart stopped, “and a slice of apple pie for my friend here,” Castiel finished.

Dean could barely hear Jenna’s acknowledgement and departure over the sudden ringing in his ears and the unavoidable bloom of hope in his chest.

He wants to look over, he does. He wants to see for himself if it really is Cas. Or if he's finally going crazy. But he can't move. He's frozen in his spot.

And then Cas’ hand comes to rest on Dean’s shoulder, right where his handprint had been, both as a scar that was no longer there, and as a bloody stain on a jacket Dean kept in the trunk of the impala for safekeeping. That movement, that touch, it was undeniably Castiel, and it forced Dean into action.

He turns his head, and looks his best friend in the eyes for the first time in what feels like forever.

And it's Castiel. Undoubtedly. He has the same messy hair, the same stubble, the same beautiful blue eyes, same dirty trench coat, the same stubbornly crooked blue tie.

“Cas?” Dean croaks, voice wobbling, painfully close to cracking.

Castiel smiles softly and the sight of it brings endless relief to Dean. And when Cas responds with, “Yes. Hello, Dean.” The relief doubles until it floods over Dean so completely his hands begin to shake.

“Cas,” he starts, voice trembling almost as much as his hands. “I- you- how-?”

“Oh look, our pie,” Cas says, cutting Dean off as their slices of pie are placed down in front of them.

“Cas, listen-” Dean begins quietly.

“Dean,” Cas interrupts. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk, I promise. Just eat your pie.”

And maybe, some other time, Dean would’ve been worried, would’ve been suspicious over Cas’ clear redirection. But he isn't. Because Castiel’s eyes are earnest and honest.

And Dean suddenly understands. Cas doesn't want to talk about it yet. He doesn't know how Dean is going to respond. He wants to have this first, just a quiet, peaceful moment.

So Dean nods, and begins to eat his pie.

It is really good pie, especially a regular apple pie, and it's probably the best apple pie he’d had in years. Mentally, Dean decides to give Jenna a large tip.

He’s halfway through eating his pie when he can’t do it anymore. Not with the way he could feel Cas watching him contentedly, fondly.

“Cas, listen, I-”

“It’s alright, Dean,” Cas says, cutting him off again, but Dean can’t be mad at it. He just needs to keep going.

“No,” he says sternly, looking stubbornly down at his half-eaten slice of pie. “No, it’s not Cas. It’s not alright, and I need to say this.”

He looks back up at Cas and waits for his response. When Cas nods in understanding, Dean takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes to steady himself briefly before opening them back up and looking Cas in the eyes. “Cas, I love you,” Dean says quietly. “You gotta know I love you too.”

Cas’ eyes widen slightly before his expression softens to something so fond it would probably make Dean uncomfortable had it been coming from anyone else. “I know,” he says with a smile that’s almost a grin.

“You kno-?” Then Dean gets it. “Oh you little shit,” he laughs. “You did not know, you don’t get to Han Solo me, you asshat,” Dean says with a wide grin.

Cas chuckles and the sound warms Dean up from the inside out. “My apologies, Dean. It seemed fitting and I figured you’d appreciate it.” Cas ducks his head slightly, avoiding eye contact, though he’s still smiling.

“Hey,” Dean says, and he reaches out and grabs Cas’ hand. “There’s no need to apologize, man.” Dean’s grinning too, and, distantly, he figures he should probably make an effort to stop calling Cas “man” and “buddy”, considering the fact that he’s in love with the stupid angel.

Cas’ smile widens and he looks back up, meeting Dean’s gaze as he turns his hand over and laces their fingers together almost hesitantly.

The flood of warmth the action brings Dean, as well as the hesitation in Cas’ eyes, brings Dean to squeeze their hands automatically, reassuringly.

All the hesitance in Cas’ expression melts away, and he practically beams at Dean. “You should finish your pie, Dean,” he suggests softly.

“So should you,” Dean points out.

Cas chuckles again and shakes his head. “It only tastes like molecules to me. I’ll get a to-go box for it and you can finish it for me later,” he says, and the ‘later’ in that sentence fills Dean with joy.

They aren’t over. There’s going to be a “later” for the two of them.

He grins at Cas and squeezes his hand before turning back to his delicious pie.

It’s after he finishes it that he gets an idea, and he grins. “Hey Cas, you wanna taste it? It’s pretty good.”

Castiel frowns and does his confused little head tilt that Dean has always secretly found unbearably cute. He realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have to keep that a secret anymore, and the thought makes him smile.

“Dean, I don’t understand,” Cas says slowly, “there isn’t any pie le-” and then the look on Dean’s face must sink in, because he cuts off with a slowly growing and a little shy smile. “...yes,” he says finally. “I would like a taste.”

“Good,” Dean says, and then he reaches over with both hands, wrapping one around Cas’ arm and cupping the back of his neck with the other as he pulls his angel into a kiss.

Castiel melts into it, and Dean feels a little like he’s glowing from the inside out, he’s so happy.

When they pull away, Dean is still grinning. “Well?” he says. “Did you like the taste?”

Cas is wearing a matching grin. “Hmmm,” he says with mock thoughtfulness. “I’m not sure, I think we should do it again, so I can have another taste.”

God, Dean is in love.

They meet again in the middle for another kiss.

Dean’s face almost hurts from smiling so much after such a long time of not smiling at all. And he knows, as they hold each other close in the pie diner, that they have the rest of their lives to spend together.

And Dean is happy.

Tag list! Ask to be added or removed!

@dreamnovak @tearsofgrace @bluebell-24 @rambleoncas

#coda #spn fanfic #destiel fanfic #destiel ficlet #destiel coda #spn 15.19 #spn 15x19 #spn spoilers #supernatural fanfic #deancas #deancas fic #destiel fic #destiel #my writing #catch me being a musical theater nerd #and adding Jenna from waitress to the story

[percywinchester27]

La Petite Mort

Word count: 2.1K

Pairing: Dean X Reader AU

Warnings: None, just fluff, humour and implied sex ;)

Series Summary: The reader has just shifted to a new flat and boy, someone on the floor has a really banging sex life! The passionate moans have been keeping her up for several nights in row and enough is enough! Reader has her suspicions, but is it really the green-eyed hottie from room no. 307?  

A/N: It’s a neighbours!AU. I’m finally writing one. So excited to share it with you guys. Hope y’all like it! <3

Beta: The best babe, @deanssweetheart23​​​​​

Everything was fine till the banging started. Pun very much intended.

The shift had been smooth, the job was going great and life was finally on track. You had slid under the covers with the most satisfied smile in years only to be woken up to a lady very, very, very happy with her life.

Oh yeah… oh yeah… ahhh right there… oh fuck yeah…

You sat up right in your bed, eyes wide, face hot.

Third night in a row. Third fucking night. Literally.

What in the good heavens? The landlady might have mentioned this while renting out the flat!

Shoving the pillow over your ears, you fell back onto the mattress, closing your eyes shut very tightly. Eventually sleep overtook you and you lapsed into lousy dreams of trying to catch the taxi which kept evading you. Not a metaphor for your sex life at all. Nope.

The disturbed sleep didn’t help your mood the following day. Everyone at the office thought of you as a happy-go lucky person. Lately, they were seeing this whole new dark side of you. Sleep was essential to your functioning. 

In the evening, on your way back, you stopped by the coffee shop downstairs to pick up a brownie. It was a little place; busy yet quaint. The barista, Charlie, made two hearts in your coffee instead of one. That put the biggest smile on your face. 

At least, the day was ending on a high note.

Your newly rented flat was on the third floor of a very complicated building. One staircase did not directly lead into another. An entire hallway had to be crossed to get to it. The design probably broke a hundred different by laws and someone was definitely paid off in the city civil office to get a construction permit. You did not want to imagine how the people would fare in case of a fire emergency. Learning the escape plan was like memorising the map of a treasure hunt. You escape, you win. You lose… whoops! Better luck in next life. But the rent was cheap and you were already living all the clichés of a struggling writer- one incomplete book, a job at a publishing house and addiction to coffee. So, yes, you would brave fire when it came to being able to afford a living.

Struggling with the brownie package and the coffee in your hand you jammed the key into the door. It didn’t go in. 

What the hell?

You tried again, and once more the key got jammed. On a closer look, you realised that the lock didn’t resemble yours at all. Stepping back, you peered at the door. 307. Not 306- which was yours.

The floor design was insane and instead of the flats being lined up next to each other, they were all fronting one another in a haphazard fashion. Shaking your head, you took a step back and jammed the key into the lock of your own flat.

Jesus! You’re losing it, Y/N.

Shirking off the mild irritation, you cooked yourself a hot cup of instant noodles, put on your favourite TV show and slinked into your couch. Tonight’s episode was going to reveal who the murderer was and you had been dying for the suspense to finally end. 

Just when the protagonist was about to point a gun at the killer in the shadows…

Oh my God... you’re incredible… aahhhh… ahhhh… ahhh…

You completely abandoned the TV and jumped up from the sofa. The fire hazard might still be worth it, but the thin walls so weren’t.

On tiptoes, you made your way to the east side wall, putting your ear against it. The noise wasn’t coming from upstairs. That was the only sure thing. But it was impossible to pinpoint the direction. The moans were reverberating through the walls. So loudly that there was no escaping it. Not in the bedroom, the kitchen or the living room sofa. 

Of all of them, the east wall seemed like the culprit. 

Right there… yeah…

307. Whoever it was in that room needed to calm the FUCK down. You grabbed your blanket and dragged it to the end of the living room, fuming. What ticked you off was how much this was ticking you off.

It’s sleep you told yourself. The lack of sleep was the only thing making you mad. The sex noises couldn’t be it. Because there were other noises- a dog barked somewhere occasionally, one of the rooms had a very loud stereo and someone was too much into baking- the beater was ceaseless. No, it had to be the timing and your wrecked sleep schedule.

Just like the nights before, you covered your ears and started reciting the story of the manuscript you had been reading at work. Eventually, sleep overtook you again.

The next morning you woke up in a crappier mood. If that was even possible.

Breathing down on anything and everything, you locked the door on your way out for work. Turning into the corridor, you ran into a wall of solid flesh. 

In your groggy, sleep deprived state, the first thing you noticed was the way he smelled- leather and whiskey and something headier than that. It was divine. Next, you looked up into those eyes- stunning green, like sparkling water running over jade.

“Easy there, sweetheart!” The guy smirked. 

You straightened yourself and took a step back. In front of you stood the most handsome guy you had ever seen. He was tall, with dirty blond hair, almost brown, and those stunning eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered, trying to collect your scattered thoughts. You had one of those dumb faces that gave away every damn thought crossing through your brain, so obviously you tried your best not to meet his gaze. Which was a shame really. That face demanded to be ogled at. Let alone the body that followed.

“No, no… I didn’t mind at all.” 

You saw him reach out to the door of 307.

“You’re the one who lives there?” You asked through gritted teeth. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure. You want a tour?”

Uhgg the best looking guy and he has to be such a douche!

Slipping past him, you stomped off towards the stairs. This too-good-looking-for-the-world asshat had been ruining your nights and in turn your life. 

You knew it was wrong to be mad at him without, at least, talking about the issue first. A polite conversation explaining your situation wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world now, would it? But how does one start a conversation pertaining to that? After all, he wasn’t exactly the one making the noise. What would you say?

So, hey would you mind pleasuring your girlfriend a little less? 

Or better. Ever heard of a ball gag?

Mere thought of it made you shudder.

The work day was spent trying to shove your neighbour's stupidly handsome face out of your mind. It didn’t help that your mother kept calling, repeatedly. You knew what she had to say. How you should have taken that bigger job at Royal’s publishing. How the writing career might never take off. How you really should get a boyfriend now, or you’ll be the only unmarried cousin in the family.

Usually you could entertain your mother with well-timed hmms and ahhs. Today wasn’t that day.

Bone-tired and absentminded, you jammed the key in the keyhole in the evening, only for it to get stuck again. You looked up at the door. 307.

Well, shit!

Putting both your hands into it, you yanked the key with all your might, just as the door opened. There he stood, with his crooked smirk, dimples digging in, wearing nothing but a thin cotton t-shirt and sweatpants that hung all too low on those hips.

“You don’t need to break into my house. I already offered a tour.” Of course, god gave him an irresistible voice. Cause at this point, why not?

“Sorry,” you muttered, looking anywhere but at him. “I keep getting the wrong door. This one’s mine.”

“Oh, so you’re the one in 306!” You could feel his smirk more than see it. “Looks like you’re having a good ol’ time in there.”

“Excuse me?”

The guy raised scratched the back of his neck, face apologetic. “You might… ya know… just keep the voice down in there?”

The audacity of this guy!

“Rich of you to ask anyone to keep it down!” You hissed. “Why don’t you tell your girlfriend to keep it low?” 

With that, you shut your door in his surprised face. The worst part was, after bumping into him in the morning, your mind was producing distinct images of him in the bed, doing things to a woman. You had tried your best not to let them make a home in your head. But like a stickly tenant, they refused to evacuate. No wonder it was hard to look him in those brilliant, brilliant green eyes. The guy was hot! There was no denying that. You weren’t even willing to accept to yourself just how much time you had put into imagining him naked.

If anything, the denial mixed with your pre-existing irritation and sleep deprivation had you ready tonight. 

So the moment the enamoured voice started begging, you hopped out of your chair. You had every intention of yelling yourself hoarse at the delectable resident next door, but the moment you stepped into the corridor, you came face to face with the very man. 

He was- thankfully, completely clothed- looking a bit harassed, himself.

aahhhh… ahhhh… ahhh… right there...

Your head whipped up to the suspected direction of the voice, and back at him. “Wait, you aren’t… it’s not...?”

His face mirrored your expression of surprise and then he burst out laughing. “Looks like we’ve both been played.”

“Not intentionally,” you said, peering at the adjacent doors, mostly to not look at him. “Where do you think it’s coming from?”

He shot a glance at the door opposite to his. “If it’s not you, my best guess is that guy over there. I mean, if you ask me, Nick over there doesn’t look the type to make a woman that happy… but what do I know?”

“You shouldn’t make assumptions about people,” you said, taking a tentative step towards the said door.

Mr. hot guy smartpants laughed. “Oh, trust me. He’s the douchiest douche you’ll ever meet. Guy like that? Definitely selfish in bed.”

You frowned at him.

“He asks women in the street to smile more,” hot guy explained.

“Uhhgg… yeah you’re right. It’s definitely not him.”

Hot guy pointed his fingers at the rest of the doors. “That one’s rented by three guys. I don’t think it’s them. Mrs. Hendrickson over there works night shifts. I have no clue who lives in there,” he pointed to the last door, directly in front of you.

Goodness you’re amazing...

“Yes, lady, we already know!” He called out.

You couldn’t help the giggle that burst through your lips.

His eyes softened. “Dean Winchester,” he said, offering his hand.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, taking his. He had a firm grip. A very funny sensation gripped your stomach. Like a flutter. Nervousness? 

“It’s great to meet you, Y/N.” He smirked. “I sure wish the circumstances were better.”

You bit your lip. “Listen, I’m sorry for the comment about your girlfriend. I was just mad about, you know... “

“Don’t worry about it. My non-existent girlfriend is very cool. She took no offense.”

You snorted.

“I was dead serious about the house tour,” He winked. “I can promise great coffee.”

“Sure, sometime soon.”

He shot a look at the door with the unknown occupants again. “I hate to leave this here, but I think we should get whatever kind of shuteye we can while they’re quiet over there, huh?”

“Oh, yeah!” You hurried back to your flat. “Night, Dean.”

He gave you his crooked grin again, just a hint of mischief. “Night, Y/N.”

You knew it wasn’t him now, and he was right about making the most of the quiet and fucking off to sleep, and yet, each time you closed your eyes, your mind decided to replay your imaginations for you. With a start, you sat up in your bed, a thought occurring to you like a hit on the head- If you had been thinking about him that way? Had he been imagining you as well?

Blood rushed to your face at the very idea. Though a tiny part of you begged for the answer- would it be such a bad thing if he had?

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

A/N 2: So? So? SO??? What do you think?

I value each and every reblog more than I can tell you! Thank you! Feedback is love and life!

This series will have a total of 5 or 6 parts max.

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La Petite Mort Taglist:

@deanssweetheart23   @cosicas-cuquis​   @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​   @mlovesstories​   @feelmyroarrrr​   @thefridgeismybestie​   @gabavaldman​   @akshi8278​   @michellethetvaddict  @fandomoverdose666​   @badlittlehabit99​   @lastcallatrockysbar​   @mrswhozeewhatsis​   @thestralsaregood​   @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou​   @notan-applepielife​   @stoneyggirl​   @tricksterdean​   @sea040561​   @i-is-for-inspiring​   @torn-and-frayed​   @flamencodiva​   @sunflowers-n-rocknroll​   @binxy   @sdavid09​   @sherala007​   @ohgodwhybloggg​   @mogaruke​   @seekingkairos​   @tootsie562   @pansexualgrapes​   @soitiswritten05  @shesnotmaria​   @miss-nerd95​   @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​   @atc74​   @onethirstyunicorn​   @thoughts-and-funnies​   @deandreamernp​   @deanwinchesterinthedarktower​   @outofnowhere82​   @traceyaudette​

#dean x reader fluff #dean winchester x reader #neighbors!AU #bartender!Dean #dean winchester reader insert #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean fluff #neighbor!dean #Ana writes LPM #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #lpm 1 #anawrites #anawritesspn #q

[jawritter]

An Alpha And His Omega

Summary: Sometimes Alpha’s aren’t the assholes, sometimes words Omegas say things that can hurt too. 

Written for: @flamencodiva  and Diva’s Writing Challenge

Prompt: He was unconscious when I found him.

Warnings: Angst, virble arguments, the reader is a bitch of a bitch in this one, pining sickness, abo dynamics, sick!dean, language, smut, unprotected sex, knotting, claiming, scenting, protective Sam, (sam’s actually pretty scary in this one). I think that’s everything, sorry If I missed something. 

Word count: 5860 (Whops)

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!reader

A/N: This fic was beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks again love! Please do not copy my work! Hope you all enjoy this one!

***MASTERLIST***       ***BECOME A PATREON***

There wasn’t a word to describe how angry you were right now with Dean Winchester. If you were strong enough, you’d kick his ass, and even though you were in excellent shape for an omega, you still couldn’t hold a candle to the big, brooding Alpha. 

Dean had been in a bad mood for weeks now. Well, months if you think about it. You’d known Dean for years, ever since you were kids growing up at Bobby’s  while your father’s went on hunting trips together, and you  always got along well enough, better than most unmated Alphas did with unmated Omegas. 

You attributed that to the life the two of you lived. It wasn’t exactly ideal for having any sort of mate really, and you always took your suppressants when you were around Dean. 

Then you met Jamie. He was a good guy, and an even better hunter. He had all the physical attributes you would look for in an Alpha, and he didn’t want to settle down and have a litter of pups. He literally just wanted someone he could trust to help him through his ruts, and you wanted someone to help you through your heats. 

It was a win, win situation. You helped each other when you needed help, and went your separate ways without any attachments. You knew Jamie  wouldn’t claim you, and you knew you could go through the physical work up without being attached to him. Without getting those dreaded feelings. When you started this little arrangement, you began to take a lower dosage of suppressants because it wasn’t good to take such a high dosage all the time, and with Jamie being on call you didn’t need to fight against your biology as much.   

That’s when you started having trouble with Dean Winchester. 

It began with the twenty questions every time you would leave and come back from being with Jamie for a few days. Then once, you caught him layering his scent on your clothes in your closet, like you wouldn’t notice. Then it was the constant pandering behind you. Wanting you to eat the food he’d bring you, or constantly checking in on you when you just wanted to be left alone. 

Then it progressed to being a dick to Jamie when he’d come around on the rare off chance he wanted to hang out with you all at the bar. Tonight had been one of those nights, and it was an Alpha pissing contest between Dean, and an uninterested Jamie, who had just come there to drink. 

Dean had stalked Jamie out to his car while you went to the bathroom before you were supposed to part ways with Jamie, but when you got out to the car you found Jamie on the ground, and a pretty amused Dean kneeling over him. 

You were infuriated. Jamie had done nothing wrong, and as much as Dean denied it, you knew it was him that broke Jamie’s jaw tonight, not some random guy from the parking lot like Dean tried to say it was. If it wasn’t Dean, Jamie wouldn’t have broken off your arrangement when you dropped him off at home from the hospital, and had to call Dean to come and pick you up off the side of the road because it was too cold to walk across town. 

“I swear Y/N, he was unconscious when I found him,” Dean said, trailing you as you  walked into the library where Sam and Jack sat with a pile of books between them. 

That was it, your last straw, between being an ass hole to your friend, and being as clingy as a newly mated Omega you had, had all of Dean’s shit you could take. Not even stopping to think about what was going to come out of your mouth, you rounded on the very surprised Alpha. 

“Fuck off Dean!, I don’t know what your deal is, but I’m SICK to fucking death of you being up my ass all the time. Now you've gone and messed up a good arrangement because you're nothing but a pompous, self absorbed Alpha, who thinks he has some sort of claim on me because I live under his roof. Well guess what buddy, you don’t own me, I’m not your Omega, and never will be, your good for nothing but a breeder, and I’m not interested in getting knocked up any time soon, so stay the fuck away from me!” 

The words had tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and the high pitched whine that seem to fall from deep inside of Dean’s chest as he staggered backwards away from you like you had burned with a brander, was almost as impressive as the surprising growl that came from Sam at the table. Even Jack jumped back and moved away from the three of you.

“I KNOW you just did not call my brother nothing more than a breeder,” Sam said through gritted teeth, using his impressive height to tower over you, and make your inner omega cower as you backed away from him. “I suggest you take your little, too good for a Winchester, ass to your room and leave my brother alone before I rip your fucking throat out. You’d be lucky to have an Alpha like Dean, but bitches like you don’t deserve the man he is.” 

You could do nothing but back down and submit to the fuming Alpha, forgetting about Dean  momentarily as he continued to whine like a dog that had been kicked while he retreated to his room, leaving you to Sam’s own devices. Jack stayed rooted to the spot he’d moved to when Sam had erupted from the table, taking everything in with wide, doe-like eyes. 

“You know, you're lucky I don’t throw you out on your ass right now,” Sam said, stalking in front of you like he wanted to rip your head clean off your shoulders.You had never seen the younger Winchester so angry in your life. “Dean let you move in here, gave you a roof over your head, runs behind you hand over fist, and this is how you thank him? By calling him a breeder?”

“I’m sorry Sam, it just slipped out. After what he pulled with Jamie…”

“What did you think was going to happen, Y/N? Dean’s had a crush on you since we were barely teenagers, and when you stopped taking the suppressants it only got worse for him when he could actually scent you. Dean wouldn’t have hurt Jamie, because he doesn’t want to hurt you, and if he says he didn’t hit him, then he didn’t do it.” 

You stood there, wide eyes staring at Sam in complete disbelief. Dean had a crush on you? It couldn’t be true, and if it was Dean had hidden it well. You had known him pretty much all your life, and while you always found him mildly clingy and annoying, it never even crossed your mind that Dean was harboring feelings towards you.  

He was always a ladies man, the guy that could bed any girl he ever wanted, and you just never even suspected it. 

“Sam, I…”

“Just, save it Y/N. But if I hear you talking to my brother like that again you're out of here. Got it?”

You nod, and make your way to your bedroom with your mind completely clouded and shock set deep in your bones. You paused outside of Dean’s closed door and started to knock on it, to apologize to him, but you just couldn't do it. 

What if Sam was wrong, and you made a complete idiot of yourself? What if Dean didn’t like you, or have feelings for you at all? Hell, you weren’t even sure how you felt about him!

So you swallow hard, and keep walking, making your way to your own room, and drinking yourself to sleep with thoughts of Dean that you never let yourself think about before, rolling around in your mind. 

The next few weeks in the bunker were tense to say the least. Dean barley left his room at all, and when he did he’d hardly speak to anyone, but he didn’t speak to you especially. Sam couldn’t even get him to go on a simple salt and burn with him upstate, Dean insisted he call Eileen to go with him. 

Of course, Sam blamed you, and you felt that you deserved it. 

Dean had a lot of good qualities. Sure, he could be a totally self absorbed asshat, but what person living and breathing, didn’t have their moments when they weren’t so fun to be around. Dean was loyal to a fault. Self sacrificing on a level you had never seen in anyone else, supernatural being or human. When he loved someone, he loved them completely. He gave more of himself than he rightfully should have had to in life, and that had its effect on him. It made him clingy and overprotective at times, and it made him a little bit of a pest, but looking back, you regretted ever saying that he was good for nothing but a breeder. 

Dean Winchester was so much more than that. Sam was right, and the more you thought about it, the more right you discovered he was. 

There was one side of Dean, a dark one that he carried from years of being in hell, becoming a knight of hell, and just having to grow up in this life in general, had left a stain on him. It told you not to challenge him, and not to push him right now. It said it in the way his body tensed every time you walked into the room since your little fight. 

You wanted to apologize to him desperately, but you also didn’t want to push your luck with him, and get your ass kicked out. You were lucky you hadn’t had it done to you already. 

This morning had started out just like any other. Sam had  come back from his run, and was preparing his rabbit food, you were sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, and your laptop open, searching for a case, and everything seemed to be going on as it always did, everything but the blatantly empty space across the table from you that Dean normally occupied. 

You suddenly lost your appetite for your coffee, or anything really, and pushed it away from you as Sam came and sat down at the opposite end of the table, his eyes scanning yours for a moment before he let out a long sigh, sitting his fork down and rubbing his hands over his face. The tension building in the room was almost tangible. 

“I’m sorry Sam, I really am,” you finally tell him in a small voice, unable to look up in his eyes that you could feel staring back at you. “I didn’t mean what I said to Dean, I really didn’t. I was just so angry with him...I would go apologize to him, but I’m afraid he’ll try and take my fucking head off.”

“It’s not all you, Y/N,” he finally told you, running his fingers through his hair with a huff of irritation. “I probably made things worse when I exploded the way I did, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t handle the situation properly. That’s on me.”

A long silence passed between the two of you, and it seemed almost deafening. Until, finally, Sam spoke again, his eyes lingering on the hallway leading towards Dean’s room as he did. 

“It’s not like Dean to hide away like this. I’m worried about him. He’s close to his rut, and that’s why he was being clingy towards you. He was trying to get your attention. He hasn’t been himself ever since. I don’t think he’s really even eating.”

“Do you think it would help if I left, just packed my shit and got away from him?” you asked Sam, but he just shook his head before standing with his plate. 

“No, I don’t think that’s going to solve anything. I do think that years of suppressants may have deadened your senses to what Dean’s sensing, and that you need to give Dean a chance. He very well could be your true mate, and you just don’t know it.”

You thought about that in silence for a moment before you were finally able to make your voice work again. Could Dean really have been your true mate all this time? It didn’t seem real to you. Dean had never shown  that he was interested in you, until recently when Jamie came around, and you had stopped using such strong suppressants. 

Then it hit you. The suppressants were as strong, and Dean was probably able to really scent you for the first time.

The lump that formed in your throat felt like it was going to choke you to death, but you swallowed it, and looked up at Sam, who was now leaning on the bar watching you. 

“What do I do, Sam? Where do I go from here?” you asked him, tears burning just below the surface. You had never felt so much regret in your life. Your heart literally hurt. 

“Trust your instincts Y/N.This may not be easy, but what in life worth having ever is?”

For most of the morning, you spent your time pacing your room and ringing your hands, trying to decide what to do. You knew you had to do something. Dean hadn’t even come out of his room this morning, and you were becoming more and more worried about him by the second. 

Consulting a few lore books had told you that the theory you and Sam had come up with this morning was more than likely the case. It said that when you're on strong suppressants long enough it can mask your scent to your mate completely, or even hide you from your true mate. It said that once you got started with the matting process that instinct would take over, and the rise in your body temperature would burn off the suppressants totally,  giving you the ability to scent him as strongly as he could scent you. 

You had decided that since Dean’s weakness was food, you were going to fix him some of his favorite pie, and bring it to him as a peace offering and see where things go from there. You had no sooner got to the kitchen though, when Sam slid in and told you to come with him before scurrying off to Dean’s room with you hot on his trail. 

“What’s wrong, Sam?” you asked as you skidded to a stop in the open door way of Dean’s room. Dean’s back was to the door, and the covers pulled high up almost over his head. Sam was kneeling down in front of his brother with his hand on his shoulder. 

“I don’t know, he’s burning up,” he told you, and you made your way cautiously around the bed to look at the Alpha that you had literally never seen ill a day in his life. Yet here he was, laying on his side, sweat forming just at his hairline, checks inflamed with fever, and shivering lightly. 

“Dean,” you say softly, afraid to touch him, but something draws you closer to him all the same. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

Dean’s darkened eyes looked up slowly to meet your gaze for a moment before he closed them again. 

“What do you care,Y/N? All I’m good for is breeding right? So what’s one less Alpha in the world to you when you think I’m not worth your time anyway?”

If his words were intended to cut, then they did their job, because it took everything in you to hold back the whine that threatened to fall from your throat as his words seemed to slice into your very soul.

“Dean, come on, you know I didn’t mean it, I was just irritated with you and…”

“Save it, Y/N.” Dean said, not even bothering to open his eyes, and turning his back to you and Sam. Evidently, he was done talking. 

“I’ll go call Jody, she may be able to tell us what’s going on with you,” Sam said, mouthing for you to stay here, and talk to his brother, earning him a death glare that you hoped showed him just how much you wanted to strangle  him right now.

How the fuck where going to get Dean to talk to you if he didn’t want too? He was literally the most stubborn man you had ever met, and when he was done talking you couldn’t torture  a word out of him. 

‘Follow your instincts, Y/N,' you said to yourself. Taking a deep breath, you got up and went to sit on the edge of the bed close enough that you could feel the heat coming from his body.

“Dean, please, I’m sorry. I know you're mad at me, and you have every right to be. Please know that I didn’t mean a word that I said to you. You're a lot more than a breeder, and I’m sorry I ever said it to you.”

You got no response, and for a moment you wondered if he’d fallen asleep, until he rolled over to face you again. He looked so tired, so pale. You had never seen Dean this down. Not even when Sam jumped in the pit, and he ran off to Lisa. 

“You remember when we were kids? You presented as an Omega and you were so angry about it. You were sure you were going to present as an Alpha,” Dean said, a ghost of  a smile on his lips as a shiver ripped through his body. “ You told Bobby that your genetics were wrong, and you weren’t going to accept that you were an Omega.”

Your mind brought you back to that. You were sitting outside with Dean on the hood of an old Ford truck in the wrecking yard when you presented. You were so fucking angry. Now you just saw it as another sign of what should have been so obvious, but wasn’t until now, and you had to fight against the sting of tears that burned in your eyes. 

“I remember. I was angry that I was going to spend my life as a pup factory for some dick Alpha, and I wouldn’t be able to hunt anymore.”

“You know, all you would have had to do was say the word, and I would have claimed you right there,” Dean said, causing you to stare at him in complete shock. Dean was a few years older than you, and had presented as Alpha long before you had presented at all, but to hear him say that outloud you nearly swallowed your tongue. 

“I didn’t do it because I knew you would have resented me forever. You had so much pent up anger that I knew you needed to work through it before you were ever able to even think about something that extreme. You needed to find yourself, to have a life outside of being tied to another person. So I let you go.”

“Dean,” you tried to stop him before the water works could start, but to no avail, he just kept talking, like a pot that was boiling over with pent up emotions and there was just no stopping it. 

“Then you left for a little while, but when you came back, I couldn’t scent you anymore. I didn’t understand what happened, so I just let it go, thinking that it was just young hormones raging that almost made me claim you. Then, when I had all but shoved every bit of feeling down that I ever had for you, you walked by me in a bar and I could scent you again, just as strong as I had that day. I knew I had to get your attention, but I was too late and you had Jamie.”

You looked away from him as the tears you had been holding back began to fall, unable to look at him anymore. 

“I knew you didn’t feel for me what I’ve always felt for you Y/N, but I never expected you to see me as nothing more than a breeder, a mutt, a worthless piece of Alpha trash, nothing more than a knot. I never expected you to reject me this way.”

“Dean, I didn’t know, I swear I didn’t know,” you tell him through tears, but he just shivered again, letting his eyes close. The fever that was raging inside of him was making him exhausted, and even you could see it. 

“Let me get you something to try and bring the fever down,” you tell him, but as you tried to stand his hand caught yours, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Sam already did that, and it hasn’t worked. Just, stay with me, please,” he begged you.

Words failed you as your heart broke deep down inside of you, and you sat back down  on the bed beside him, watching as his breathing evened out, and his shivering seemed to relax a little. 

Of all the things that you thought would take Dean out, this was not the way you saw him going, and yet here you were, feeling so helpless and lost as you watched him sleep, praying Jody would have an answers to what was going on with him, because right now, it looked like Dean wasn’t going to be able to fight this fever off much longer, and you had a feeling it was only going to get worse. 

You don't know how long you sat there next to Dean while he slept. It could have been fifteen minutes, it could have been three hours. You had no idea, because to you time seemed to have slowed to an unbelievable crawl. 

You did notice that the more you played with his hair, and held his hand in yours, that his over stressed body seemed to relax more.  If this was going to give them some measure of comfort, then so be it. 

You never noticed until now that you had never really LOOKED at Dean. You never really paid that much attention to just how painfully handsome he was. Even for the line of work you guys did, he had surprisingly very few scars on his face, and the ones he did have only seemed to attribute to his already ruggedly handsome face. The sun kissed skin, and the light dusting of freckles everywhere contrasted one another, but in a good way, it gave him an almost boyish look while he was relaxed and asleep like this. His strong, sharp  jaw still held enough of an edge of softness to it that you found yourself wanting more than  ever  to touch his face, to feel the stubble that was actually a light beard at this point, under your fingers. 

His plump, pink lips were parted slightly, and even though his breathing was still coming in pants more than completely normal breaths, he looked peaceful.

You were so entrapped  staring at him, that when Sam came skidding to a halt in the door way you nearly fell off of the bed when he spoke in a voice so loud it almost disturbed  Dean, who shifted a little in the bed to subconsciously get closer to you, and away from the noise. 

“Y/N! Jody says she thinks she knows what the problem is…”

“SHHH!!!” you tell him, adjusting the covers over Dean’s shoulders, and gave Sam a stern look. Sam mouthed “sorry,” before coming closer to you and clearing his throat as he came to the other side of the bed. 

“Jody thinks she knows what’s wrong with him,” Sam said a little calmer, pulling a chair to sit down next to Dean’s bed. 

“Okay...we’ve established that. Wanna tell me what it is, or you gonna make me try and guess it?” you tell him, quickly getting annoyed that he seemed to have forgotten you couldn’t read minds. 

“Right, sorry. She thinks that when you two got in a fight a few weeks ago, that the rejection triggered pinning sickness. It’s rare for Alpha’s, but apparently can sometimes happen when you get rejected by your true mate. I looked it up, and he has every symptom. Fever, weight loss, loss of appetite, increased irritation and moodiness, vomiting…”

“Vomiting? When was he vomiting?” you cut in, and Sam gives you an apologetic look. 

“Yesterday, he told me not to tell anyone, and that he’d just eaten something bad. Obviously he was covering up the fact that he was in this bad of a shape, which is normal for Dean. Downplay everything until you can’t do it anymore.”

Shaking your head in annoyance, you brush it off to bitch about it later. You hated it when Dean did shit like that. He was allowed to have bad days, just like everyone else was, and you absolutely hated it when he downplayed what he was really feeling. 

“So what do we do?” you ask him, and Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat before meeting your gaze, taking a moment to put his hand over his brother’s forehead to gage his temperature before answering you.

“Well, everything I can find and know about pinning sickness is that close contact with your true mate helps. Like now just from you playing with his hair, and holding his hand like that his temperature seems to be down a good bit. In order for him to get fully past it, you're going to have to let him claim you.”

You tried to hide just how terrifying that thought was to you. To have a mate in this life, to have someone tided to you, to put each other in danger, much less it be a fucking Winchester. This was something you never wanted, but now that he brought it up, you couldn’t help but picture yourself with Dean, maybe even with a pup on your hip that would have brilliant green eyes, just like his father. 

“You think he will go for it?” you asked Sam. No one knew Dean better than Sam, and you were not sure how to even begin to have this conversation with Dean after what you had told him. After how you had hurt him.

“I think you won't have to ask him twice,” Sam said, standing up and making his way to the door. “Just, don’t hurt him again, okay? Cause I don’t think he can live through another disappointment.”

You couldn’t make your voice work properly  for the tears that were threatening to fall if you tried to speak, so you just nodded your head and continued running your fingers through Dean’s short hair as he slept next to you. 

“Wait until he wakes up, let his body recover some, when he does he should be ready,” Sam said before closing the door, and leaving you alone with Dean.

Dean slept for probably another three hours before he even began to stir again, but you could tell by the way he moved and felt when you touched him that his fever was almost gone completely. 

You watched as he stretched next to you, and cracked his eyes open to find you still there next to him, then you watched as the look of relief of finding you turned into fear and rejection in what seemed like seconds. It made your heart seize in your chest to think that you had hurt him that badly. 

“Good morning handsome,” you try and tease him, but Dean just pulls his hand away from yours, and pulls the covers tighter around himself. 

“Morning,” he said simply, avoiding your gaze. 

“How do you feel?” you asked him, and he just shrugged, continuing to stare at the wall opposite him. 

“Better.You can go now, you don’t have to sit with me, I”m sure you’d rather go and try to talk to Jamie anyway,” Dean said, and you swore you could hear a whine behind his words. 

You weren’t going to let him push you away now, not when you had already made up your mind that this is what you wanted, and had always wanted. Even when you were running the bars with him, it had always been Dean that you really wanted, you were just too afraid to admit it. 

“I’m not going anywhere Dean,” you tell him, pulling the covers up and sliding in next to the evidently shocked Alpha, who grunted, but didn’t fight you as you snuggled into his arms and close to his broad chest where his heart was hammering away at his rib cage at the close contact of you with him.

Once you saw that he wasn’t going to physically kick you out of his bed, you took the only moment of bravery you were sure you were going to find, and brushed your lips lightly over his mating gland in his thick neck, scenting him deeply, pulling a curse and a shiver from his broad body as he pulled you impossibly closer to him. 

“Fuck baby, don’t do that,” he grunted as your teeth lightly grazed the skin of his pulse point, and his hands slid down to grip your hip tightly. “If you start this, I’m not gonna be able to stop, and I...I don’t want you to be tied to someone who is nothing but a breeder, when someone is out there a lot better than me, someone that can give you a stable home and a family.” 

Letting out an exasperated sigh you kick yourself again for ever calling him that, reaching up to brush your hands through his hair as he tried to nuzzle himself into your hand. His words were telling you to walk away, but everything in his was screaming for you.

“Dean, you're not just a breeder, I told you, I was just angry, you're so much more than that. I wish you could see what I see in you.”

Dean swallowed thickly and looked away from you, but you weren’t going to let him drop it that easy. 

“You’re so strong Dean. Most people that have gone through half the shit you’ve faced in life would have killed themselves by now, and look at you! You’re still here, as many things that have tried to kill you, you’re still here! You’re a fucking hero, you’ve saved countless people time and time again. You love with your whole heart, you’re loyal and protective, you’re everything any Omega would want in an Alpha and then some, so don’t ever think you’re just a knot, but you’re so much more than that, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t see it sooner.”

Dean didn’t say anything, and you could see that he was shutting down, so you did the only thing you knew to do. Taking a deep breath you steel your nerves, and placed a timid kiss to his still slightly parted lips. For a moment, he just froze, but it didn't take long for the tidal wave of emotions to come crashing down over the two of you. 

You weren’t really sure of a lot of things . There was so much unknown in every aspect of your life, so you just never expected  anything to be constant, not for you, you would die alone on the end of a gun, knife, or at the hands of some freak, and that was the only thing in life you would ever be able to count on. But right now, in this moment, you couldn’t see anything past the two of you, two halves that had fought against becoming whole for so long that the relief was almost insurmountable and indescribable. 

As tender, scared kisses turned into more needy and demanding kisses filled with passion and fire that seemed to source down to your very soul. Clothing began to fall to the floor, and shy little touches became rough and more determined. You were sure that this was the piece of your life that had always been missing. 

Dean was still fairly weak from days of being sick, but the more his bar skin touched yours, the more his lips and teeth trailed their way down your throat, and over your mating gland, the more his body seemed to come alive again. Yours wasn’t that far behind either, slick quickly coating your thighs as your body seemed to know what your mate needed before you ever could have guessed it, and that was to become connected to you as quickly as possible. Years of waiting made the heated kisses and touches seem that much more intense, and as Dean slid his length fully inside of you without hindrance, you could have sworn you felt the world stop turning. 

Most of the time, from what you had been told, when soul mates actually mate and are claimed by their mates it’s a rough and primal act that’s over as fast as it begins. This was so much different than that. It was deeper, more sensual that you would have ever thought to be possible. Every deep thrust of his cock into your waiting heat that was already trembling around him as he stretched and filled you over and over again felt as if it were connecting you at a level deeper than the physical pleasure that was raging through your bodies like a brush fire in the burning summer heat. 

He never tried to flip you over like you expected him to, and demand you present like most Alpha’s would have, but instead he held his body over yours with his powerful arms and shoulders balancing his weight so that he wouldn’t hurt you, but kept you facing each other so that he could watch you as you began to get closer and closer to your release, as your body shuttered underneath him as his knot began to swell and catch at your entrance, forcing thrust to turn into deep rutting push and pull that only served to push you both over the edge you had been teetering on. 

Even as his teeth sank deep into your mating gland, connecting you to him at your very soul, you had no regrets except that you had waited this long to figure out what had always been there, and had always been missing. 

Dean flipped the two of you carefully to your sides as you waited until his knot had gone down, playing with your hair, and licking lightly at your claiming mark, while you tried to catch your breath, letting the bond cement itself as it only could between an Alpha, and his Omega. Suddenly, all the things you had always feared, a life, a family, didn’t seem so scary. Not as long as Dean was there with you each step of the way.

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean x you #alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean x Omega!reader #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #abo #abo fanfic #omega!reader #x reader inserts #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn fandom #jawritter #an alpha and his omega

[rizlowwritessortof]

Meant To Be - Chapter 8

Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start.

Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor

Word Count: 3085

Warnings: None

Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics​ 

Jordan regained consciousness with a groan at the throbbing pain in her head. She tried to move, to hold her head in her hands, but they were securely bound behind her back – duct tape, it felt like, and she opened her eyes slowly, remembering what had happened and wondering where she was.

The masked man in front of her shoved at the shoulder of the larger man beside him. “Hey – bitch is awake.”

She squinted up at the man who had spoken, defiance in her eyes. “Fuck you.”

He took a step towards her, but his apparent boss grabbed his arm. “Knock it the fuck off. Take a walk.”

Douche-bag flunky stalked away in a huff, and the man in charge hunkered down in front of her. “Sorry things have to be like this, but it’ll be over soon. Just keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told, and you’ll be fine.”

Jordan just glared back at him, then turned her head, letting her eyes scan the room. She was in some sort of garage, or storage building, she wasn’t sure. The windows were painted over, so no view to the outside. She winced as she moved, her jaw aching and her head pounding with every beat of her heart. Oh, God… Sam…

“What about the guy you beat half to death. Will he be fine?”

Her captor tilted his head. “They hauled him off to the hospital. I’m sure he’ll live.”

She stared back at him, venom in her gaze. “He’d better.”

He chuckled quietly. “Listen, all you need to worry about is that your boyfriend does what he’s told. Then everybody can go home, nobody else needs to get hurt.”

“Right. Except him.”

He shook his head. “As long as he does his job, he’s good.”

“I thought this was all about revenge for the shooting.”

“I want one thing, and one thing only, and a cop is the only one who can get it for me. Speaking of… it’s about time to make a call. Since you’re awake and so chatty. Because I’m sure he’s gonna want to talk to you.” He stood back up, pulling a phone from his pocket – it was hers. He placed the call and put it on speaker, waiting silently for an answer.

“Jordan?”

“Wrong. I am Jordan-adjacent, though.”

“She’d better be in perfect health, you dick, or...”

“She’s fine. Just shut up and listen. Remember a couple of months ago, the big drug bust, made all the papers?”

Dean was silent for a moment, and Jordan pictured him closing his eyes, dreading what was coming next. “Yeah.”

“Well, Detective – all that cocaine? That was mine. You’re gonna go to the evidence lock-up, take it all out, and bring it to me. Three duffle bags, no tricks.”

“You’re fucking crazy.”

“Crazy or not, it’s mine – and I want it back. I don’t care how you do it – not my problem. You get me that coke, and your little spitfire here gets to live.”

“I’m not doing shit until I talk to Jordan. I need to know she’s okay.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” The masked man knelt down in front of her and held the phone closer to her.  “Go ahead, talk.”

“Dean?” Her voice quavered as she fought tears for the first time since her ordeal had begun.

“Jordan, are you hurt?”

“I’m okay. Dean, is Sam...”

“Sam’s gonna be fine. Don’t worry.”

Her captor rose to his feet again. “Okay, that’s enough for now. I’ll call you in one hour with instructions.”

Jordan swallowed a sob, tears slowly trailing down her cheeks as he ended the call. “You’re insane. How is he supposed to steal drugs from the police lockup?”

“He’ll figure it out. He’d better.” He turned and reached to grab her by the arm, pulling her to her feet. “And now, since our little phone call is done – you can go into the storage closet so we can take off these fucking masks. Hope you appreciate how careful I’ve been to make sure you can survive this little transaction.”

She shot him a glance full of spite. “I’ll send you a fruit basket.”

He laughed. “You know, different circumstances, I think I could really like you.” He unlocked and opened the door to a large walk-in closet, windowless and dark except for vents high up near the ceiling that let scant light in from the room outside. He moved farther into the room, lowering her down next to the wall. A blonde sat across from her, arms held close against her body. “Brought you a roommate. Play nice.” He turned and left the room, locking the door with a loud click and walking away.

The girl looked up at Jordan, her expression stoic. “So you’re the one.”

“The one what?”

“The one I was supposed to grab the first time.”

Jordan leaned her head back against the wall. “You’re Megan? What are you doing in here? I thought you were working with these assholes.”

Megan looked away. “I was supposed to do their dirty work for them. Didn’t work out so well.”

“Sucks when you piss off the boss,” Jordan muttered resentfully, and the blonde’s head raised back up, her blue eyes angry.

“Look, I didn’t… I mean, I knew what I was doing, but I just – I wanted justice for my brother. They lied to me. I found out, after… I tracked down a couple of people that were there that night, people that are still hiding because they’re afraid of these fuckers. They told me what happened. That your cop boyfriend didn’t have any choice. And I was pissed, I called these asshats and told them I wanted to meet.”

“I take it they didn’t like what you had to say.”

“I told them I didn’t like being lied to and used, and that I was done. And they told me that was too bad, because they couldn’t let me go since I knew too much. And I tried to get away, but they broke my fucking arm and knocked me out, locked me up in here.”

Jordan was silent for a moment, the only sound the other girl’s agitated breathing as she fought to control herself. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I assumed… Do you know who they are?”

Megan shook her head. “No. They wore masks when I met them, before that it was just phone contact.”

After a few seconds of silence, Jordan spoke softly. “They want Dean to steal cocaine from the evidence lockup and bring it to them. Supposedly, if they get what they want, they’ll let us go.”

Megan let out a derisive snort. “I’ll believe that when it happens. They’re already on the hook for murder, I doubt if they give a shit about a couple more.”

Resting her aching head against the wall, Jordan let out a sigh. “I know.”

Dean gripped his phone so hard that his hand shook, and Donna put a firm hand on his forearm. “Calm down. Losing it right now isn’t going to help anybody, Dean.”

He looked at the technician sitting behind the monitor, and she shook her head before dropping her eyes. “No trace. Damn it, Donna, what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Cap’s office, now - brainstorm. We’ll figure it out.”

After a quick knock, the partners were invited to enter, and they both plopped down into the chairs in front of the Captain’s desk. “So what are we dealing with?”

Dean filled him in on the ransom call, and the Captain leaned back in his chair, looking Dean in the eye. “You know we can’t just give them the coke, Detective.”

“There’s got to be something we can do. He’s calling in one hour to give us the drop instructions,” Donna said, forcing herself to remain calm. “Can we put dye packs...”

“They said no tricks. They’ll check for that. We can’t risk it.” Dean bit back, and she took a breath before trying again.

“Okay, they demanded we bring the drugs in three duffle bags. We put a tracker in them.”

The Captain spoke up. “In all probability, they’ll expect that and switch to their own bags when we make the drop.”

Dean moved forward, his forearms braced on his knees. “Okay, so we put a tracker in the coke. Let forensics open one up, put it in the middle so it can’t be seen, and seal it back up exactly like it was before. Then we can track it to their destination.” The Captain narrowed his eyes, considering, and Dean continued. “Sir,  I swear on my life I won’t let them get away with those drugs. But you have to let us do this.”

The Captain thought for a few moments before sitting upright and blowing out a loud breath. He nodded, then said reluctantly, “Okay, I’ll sign the order. I’m holding you to your word.”

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, breathing a sigh of relief. “We won’t let you down, Cap.”

The older man’s words followed them out the door. “You damn well better not.”

Jordan looked up as the door rattled, then swung inward. Her captor knelt down in front of her, setting a bottle of water nearby. “Lean up, I’ll cut your hands loose. Can’t do anything in here, anyway.”

She did as she was told, relieved to be able to move her arms, and gratefully accepted the water. “Thanks,” she muttered grudgingly, and he moved over to set water down near her fellow prisoner. “She needs a doctor, you know.”

He rose to his feet and turned, moving back towards the door. “After I have my property, she can see all the doctors she wants.”

Megan looked down at the bottle, shaking her head as the door closed and locked again. “And how the hell does he think I’m gonna open this?”

Jordan stood up, stretching her aching shoulders, and walked over, kneeling down to open the bottle. Megan’s face looked flushed, her eyes glazed over a little, and Jordan laid a hand on her forehead. “You’re feverish. Maybe they’ll at least give us some aspirin.”

Megan huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Don’t count on it.”

Jordan went to the door and pounded, shouting. “Hey! Anybody out there? Can we get some aspirin?”

A loud bang on the other side of the door startled her back a step. “Shut the fuck up in there! Be glad you got water.”

Megan gave her a half-smile. “Told you. But thanks for trying.”

“Assholes,” Jordan said under her breath, stripping off the button-down she was wearing over her tank top and kneeling back down in front of Megan.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked, watching Jordan fold and re-fold the shirt until she was satisfied with the results.

“You have to be exhausted trying to hold your arm like that. I thought maybe a sling would help.” She carefully slipped the makeshift sling under Megan’s injured forearm, taking the sleeves behind her neck and tying them into a knot. The girl sighed with relief as she relaxed her shoulder, letting the shirt cradle her arm.

“Thank you.” Jordan smiled at her and headed back to her spot against the wall.

“You’re welcome.”

Dean ended his call and stuffed his phone back into his pocket, turning to Donna. “Sam’s out of surgery, everything’s good.”

His partner sighed with relief and smiled. “Thank God. One of the guys from forensics just finished up with the tracker. Everything’s ready to go.”

As if on cue, Dean’s phone rang, and he grabbed it from his pocket, nodding towards the tech who would be trying to trace the call. When the officer signaled, Dean answered. “Yeah.”

“I assume that you’ve got my coke ready to deliver?”

“Yeah. Just tell me where and when so we can get this over with.” The man rattled off an address, and Dean repeated it. “I want to talk to Jordan. Make sure she’s still okay.”

“No more time for socializing right now. She’s fine. You’ll just have to trust me.”

“Like hell I will.”

“You don’t have a choice. Meet me at that address in 45 minutes, come alone, and I’ll give you her location so you can have a nice, long chat with your girl.” The call ended abruptly, and Dean swore, his teeth clenched together in frustrated anger.

Donna put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. We’re gonna nail these bastards.”

He took a breath, his expression taut and determined. “Fuckin’ right. And she’d better be okay, or I swear to God...”

“She’ll be okay. She’s smart, and she’s tough, and you’re gonna get her back.”

Dean pulled into the parking lot, eyes scanning the area. “You can still hear me?” he asked, and a tinny affirmative reply came through his earpiece. Donna and two other squad cars were parked a couple of blocks away, and the SWAT van was another block over and north, their tracking equipment set up to follow the cocaine after the drop.

A dark, nondescript SUV pulled into the lot and parked a couple of car lengths away. Dean exited the car, tugging his vest down and taking a couple of steps to the front of the car. His contact climbed out of his vehicle, mask in place, moving forward a few steps and then taking a wide-legged stance, his arms folded over his chest. “Okay, let’s get this party started.” Dean nodded, opening the trunk and grabbing the bags, walking forward until the man shouted for him to stop. “Drop the bags right there.”

“Where is she?” Dean responded, still holding them, challenge in his eyes.

“When we conclude our business, I’ll tell you. Now drop the bags.”

He did as he was told, muttering under his breath, “I’m gonna kill this fucker.”

Donna’s voice came back, “No, you’re not. Just take a breath, partner.”

At a motion from the man in charge, a couple of masked men exited the vehicle, empty duffle bags in hand. They knelt on the ground and began to transfer the cocaine to their own bags, and Dean walked back to close the trunk on his cruiser. “What’s the matter, don’t trust me?”

“Oh, come on, Detective. Like I don’t know they’d put some kind of tracker in those bags. I don’t blame you, don’t worry. I’m sure your commanding officer insisted.” His men finished loading the coke and retreated back to the SUV, tossing their prize into the back before getting back inside. The driver pulled a phone from his pocket, dialing and speaking a few quiet words before looking towards Dean and speaking.

“All right. Well done, Detective. You’ll find your little spitfire in a storage building two blocks north of here.” Dean moved quickly towards his door, but the man called out again. “Also, you have a choice – you can have your backup try to follow us – or you can get to that storage building and save those girls. Seems a fire got started in there somehow. Your choice. Better hurry, though.”

Dean was in his car, engine roaring to life, as he spoke to Donna. “Did you hear that? Meet me there, let SWAT track the coke!”

“You got it!” the answer came back, and Dean squealed the tires, heading north.  His foot to the floor, his eyes scanned frantically for smoke as he approached the two-block area, and he screeched to a halt in front of the building, smoke already pouring from a broken window on the side. His backup pulled in a few seconds later as he reached the door, placing a palm against it to test for heat.

“Bring the battering ram!” He shouted, knowing it was futile to try to kick in the steel-reinforced door, and two officers came at a run with the tool in hand. “Call fire!” he shouted over his shoulder as the third slam into the door sent it flying inward, the frame splintering. Donna and two other officers entered right behind him, skirting the fire and searching the building.

Dean headed straight for the closet, hearing Jordan pounding on the door and calling out. “Help! We’re in here!”

“Stand back from the door!” he shouted, waited a few seconds, and let the battering ram do its work. “Jordan!” He rushed into the room, letting his relief wash over him for a split second before taking her arm and shoving her towards an officer. “Get her out of here!”

“Dean! Megan needs help, she’s sick, and her arm is broken,” Jordan called out to him, then let the officer lead her out.

He nodded, heading Megan’s direction. “Okay, Megan, I’m just going to pick you up and carry you out. Can you get your good arm around my neck?” The girl nodded, and Dean bent to pick her up, as careful as he could be not to jostle her arm.

Fire and Rescue were just pulling in, and Dean carried Megan directly to the ambulance, waiting for the EMTs to ready the gurney before laying her down. “You okay?” he asked, and she nodded, and he stepped back to allow the paramedics to do their job. He turned, eyes searching until he spotted Jordan being hugged by Donna, and in a few long strides, he was there, pulling her into his arms.

He held her tight, letting her sob softly into his chest until she quieted down. “Thank you,” she whispered as he pulled back, looking down into her eyes. He touched her face, barely brushing over her bruised jaw and gently touching the cut over her eyebrow, beautifully framing her black eye.

“Got quite a shiner, there,” he said, and she nodded, wincing.

“Yeah, they, uh – they slammed my head into the steering wheel.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault. Sam...”

“Sam’s okay. He’s out of surgery, he’ll be fine, hospital called me.” Another ambulance pulled in, and he brushed his knuckles over her uninjured cheek. “I’m sorry, Jordan, but you need to go in and get checked out.” She looked into his eyes, watching the guilty struggle there, and put her hand over his.

“Dean – go. Catch those assholes. They’ll take care of me.”

After a moment’s pause, he finally nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you in the ambulance, then Donna and I will go help SWAT take out the trash.”

Chapter 9

#meant to be #chapter 8 #dean fic #dean x oc #dean x jordan

[deancaskiss]

Tinsel and Tourists Chapter Twenty-One

Word Count: 2,054 (longest chapter yet- chapter continued under the Read More)

Dean’s POV

Link to ao3 / Link to masterpost

“Dean,” Sam said, voice quiet as he walked up to him across the snow as Cas limped away.

“Don’t,” Dean threatened, tears burning his eyes. “Just don’t. Because if I have to hear you say I told you so-”

“I would never, Dean,” Sam said, hand coming out to rest on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean shrugged him off before making his way back through the forest towards the Impala, not wanting to be there for another second. He didn’t want to talk; didn’t want to think. Just wanted to drown himself in alcohol until he couldn’t feel the gaping hole in his heart.

They drove in complete silence, and when they got back to the motel, Sam tried again. “I’m sorry, Dean,” he said softly, expression morphing into one of pity.

Grabbing three beers from the fridge, Dean shook his head. “I’m getting some air.” Without waiting for Sam to respond, Dean pushed his way outside, letting the cold air bite his skin and whisk away the tears that stung his cheeks. For a while he sat on the hood of the Impala, draining one beer after another in record speed. But even with the buzz of the alcohol, Dean’s heart still ached in ways he’d never felt before.

Instead of heading back into the motel and facing Sam, Dean climbed into the backseat of the Impala and closed his eyes. He just needed something to ground him, and as the tears silently tracked down his cheeks, he let Baby be his comfort in the agonizing pain. He drifted off into a fitful sleep; nightmares of Cas getting attacked over and over again by the druid as he screamed out for Cas and tried to protect him.

A tap against the window startled Dean awake, leaving him feeling groggy and hungover, and he saw Sam outside; finger against the window. Pulling himself up, Dean rubbed a hand over his face and opened the door.

“We should hit the road. Bobby might have found us a case in Maine,” Sam said. There was still a hint of sympathy in Sam’s tone, as if he wasn’t sure if he should be getting Dean out of the state or encouraging him to stay.

Dean nodded without a word, dragging himself back into the motel and forcing himself into the shower; washing away the stale feeling and the heartbreak.

Twenty minutes later, everything was packed into the Impala and Dean was sitting behind the wheel. The engine was running, and Dean's hands were on the wheel, but he felt frozen in place. He couldn't do it. He couldn't. "Sam, I can't…" Dean whimpered, eyes stinging with tears as he turned his gaze to the passenger seat. "I can't."

He didn't even need to say the words- not that he could even articulate them- but Sam understood. Reaching out, Sam put his hand on Dean's forearm reassuringly. "You love him, don't you?" Sam whispered.

Dean nodded, heart lurching and cracking in his chest. "I'm so fucking in love with him that I can barely breathe," Dean admitted, words lodging in his throat

"Go find him and talk to him. Win him back, Dean."

"I can't. Sam. I can't. The look in his eyes last night… he told me to leave."

"And you're going to accept that and walk away? Who are you? Because that's not my brother. Get off your ass and chase after your man, Dean. Because if you don't, you'll regret it for the rest of your life," Sam said firmly.

"Great pep talk, Sammy."

Sam snorted. "Tough love. Go to the diner and tell him you love him or so help me God I'm feeding you to the next werewolf I come across."

Putting his hands up in defeat, Dean shut the car off and handed the keys to Sam. "Just in case you need them."

"I'll tell Bobby to find another hunter to get the case in Maine," Sam said as Dean climbed out of the car.

Dean speed walked to the diner, dodging past people on the streets; his mind intent on finding Cas. Every single thought in his mind was just Cas, Cas, Cas. God, he was so achingly in love he could feel it deep in his bones. He just needed five minutes- just five minutes to tell Cas he was completely and utterly in love with him.

Pushing his way into the diner, Dean heaved a sharp breath as his lungs burned from the fast walk. His eyes darted around, trying to peer into the kitchen to see if he could spot Cas’ beautiful blue eyes and messy hair. But just as Dean’s gaze settled on Cas and his heart skipped a beat, he was being forcefully grabbed by someone, pulled back towards the entrance with a sharp shove.

“You need to leave. My brother wants nothing to do with you,” a man said, marching Dean out.

“Gabriel?”

“Yeah, that’s right. And you’re the asshat who broke my brother’s heart. Get out of here before I break your face,” Gabriel threatened, shoving Dean out the door, causing Dean to stumble and almost lose his footing on the icy snow.

“No! Wait! Please, I can explain. I just- I need five minutes with him. That’s all I’m asking for. I want to explain-”

“Explain what, exactly? That some monster attacked my brother, and you’re some “hero” here to save him?”

“He told you?” Dean asked in shock.

“You mean through the crying? Yeah, he told me. I had to bandage him up when he and Libby made their way back here last night. And let me tell ya, I’m not putting any trust in you either right now,” Gabriel said harshly.

“Please, Gabriel. Please? I’m begging. I just need to tell him-”

“Tell him what? That you’re a liar who kept shit from him? He trusted you, Dean. Do you even get how huge that was for him? No. You probably don’t, do you? Cas has already had his heart broken. He was engaged, and his fiance cheated on him and then humiliated him in the worst way possible. Cas hasn’t trusted anyone since, and he certainly hasn’t gone and fallen in love with anyone. He’s more guarded than a freaking bank vault with his heart. And he let you in, and you utterly destroyed him in ways that made his broken engagement look like child's play,” Gabriel hissed, jabbing a finger in Dean’s chest.

Dean felt the air leave his lungs in a sharp gasp, and his eyes stung. That’s what Cas was going to tell him after their ice skating date. Oh God. Oh God. What had he done? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I’m not- you don’t understand. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. I’m so in love with your brother…” Dean trailed off, losing his words for a second as tears choked him, burning his throat. Pulling in a deep breath, Dean kicked at the snow before finally looking back up at Gabriel. “I’m so far gone for Cas it’s unreal. I’ve never- you have to understand,” Dean begged. “I’ve lived my whole life on the road. Hunting is my life. White picket fences and settling down, that was never going to happen for me. But then I met Cas… and I’ve never wanted love more in my entire life. I love him. Please. Just- just let me see him. Even if he doesn’t… want me anymore. I just. I just need him to know it was real. That I couldn’t even force myself to pull out of the motel parking lot and leave without telling him I’m earth-shatteringly in love with him.”

Something in Gabriel’s expression morphed, softening just slightly. “You love him?”

“Yes. God yes,” Dean said quickly. “I’m so in love with Cas I can barely breathe when I’m around him,” Dean admitted, and God, he thought it would be hard to say those words- to admit he was in love- but it wasn’t hard at all. It felt so goddamn right. Falling in love with Cas had felt like driving Baby on backroads; it felt like coming home.

Gabriel nodded slowly, puffing out a breath of air that fogged around them. “Alright, fine. You’ve got five minutes with him, alright? That’s it,” Gabriel said. “Stay here. I’ll go get him.”

And then Gabriel was disappearing back into the diner. He was only gone a couple of minutes, but those two minutes felt like the longest and most agonizing moments of Dean’s life.

The second Cas stepped outside, the air left Dean’s lungs in a sharp gasp and he found himself instantly leaning into Cas’ space before remembering himself; before remembering that Cas wasn’t his anymore.

“Five minutes. That’s it. And then you’re gone,” Cas said stiffly before moving to sit on the closest bench.

Dean hesitated for a second, hovering a few steps away before sitting down next to Cas. “Gabriel said you wanted to explain and had something important to say.”

Slowly, Dean reached out, brushing his fingers along the inside of Cas’ wrist. Cas stuttered out a breath, seemingly forgetting himself, as for a brief second he started to link their hands together, before realizing what he was doing and yanking his hand away.

Dean’s heart shattered in his chest all over again, and he couldn’t stop the whimper from slipping past his lips.

“Cas,” Dean whispered brokenly. “I need you to know- it was real. This. Us. We’re real. My feelings for you, they’re real. I’m devastatingly in love with you, Cas. Absolutely and utterly head over heels in love with you. You- you leave me breathless. I can barely stand to be away from you. I’m so freaking in love with you it aches in my bones. This is the most real thing I’ve ever felt in my whole life. I’m crazy about you. I need you to know, Cas. I need you to know that I’m achingly and madly in love with you,” Dean said, words hovering in the air between them.

Cas sat for a second, completely frozen. And then Dean started to panic. It was too late. He was too late. He'd lost Cas. His entire body began to shake, heart crumbling in his chest.

And then, after a solid minute of silence in which Dean thought he'd lost the best thing that had ever happened to him, Cas spoke up, whispering quietly, “You love me?”

Dean choked on a sob, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Cas’. “I’m so deeply in love with you. From the moment I met you, I was falling for you. But after our date, after our kisses, I’m so far gone for you that I'd propose to you right now if I could. I love you, Cas.”

Cas let out a little whine, leaning into Dean’s touch. Dean’s heart ricocheted in his chest, and he reached out, sliding his hands to Cas’ jaw, tilting his head up. “Let me kiss you? Please God, Cas, please let me kiss you,” Dean babbled, brushing his nose against Cas’ softly.

A sob slipped from Cas’ mouth and he nodded, hands reaching up to grip tightly to Dean’s wrists. “Kiss me.”

Dean lurched forwards, connecting their lips and kissing Cas like he was Dean’s source of air. He kissed and kissed and kissed him, hungrily sliding his tongue into Cas’ mouth and slotting their lips together.

Little soft gasps kept falling out of Cas' mouth, and Dean just kissed him harder, until all he could taste was Cas. Finally, when his lungs were absolutely burning, Dean broke the kiss, gasping for air before pecking Cas several more times on the lips.

"I love you," Dean murmured, pressing the confession against Cas' lips.

Cas' fingers came up and tangled in his hair. "I- I love you, too. Don't leave. Dean please. Don't leave. Stay."

Dean nodded, leaning forward to press another tender kiss to Cas' lips. When he pulled back, he moved to trail his fingertips over the bump at the back of Cas' head. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Cas said slowly. And then, "You owe me the truth, Dean."

"I do." Reaching out, Dean slipped his hand into Cas', head spinning as Cas tangled their fingers together. "What do you want to know?"

Tag List Part 1 Below- (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!)

Tag List: @cas-deserved-so-much-more @hello-x-sunshine​ @bibelphegor​ @likepurplemuses​ @expectingtofly​ @neo-neo-neo​ @shadowywerewolfqueen​ @a-sweet-indisposition​ @feraladoration​ @xojo​

@oganizediguana​ @paintdriesfaster​ @adsp-destielcockles​ @destielangst​ @im-your-huckle-berry @justa-crayon​ @dea-stiel​ @superduckbatrebel​ @destielfactory​ @miluiel-erynion​

@y-yo-a-ti-cas67 @cockleslovesdestiel​ @toxic-nebula​ @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @enchantinghairdoherringwombat​ @proudace​ @galaxymysteryelephant​ @aelysianmuse​ @ramennoodles-dean-cas @you-changedmedean

@gmos-winter-wonderland @deansotherotherblog​ @trekkie24 @geo-val​ @dizzypinwheel​ @hermionevaldez9​ @gimmeprozac @iamsherlockedondoctorwho​ @dickspeightjrs​ @imbiowaresbitch​

@destielle​ @hopefuldreamers-world​ @organicpurplepants​ @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you​ @shut-up-dean​ @sapphirecobalt-1​ @eshaninjer​ @spnobsessed50​ @mishka​ @holygoddessofvictory​​

@jayus-fandom-writer​​ @2musiclover2​​ @rainbowscas @bennedict​ @cassiecasyl​ @jensenacklesruinedmylife​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @chaoticdean​ @destiel-trash-asf​ @tlakhtwritesdestiel​

@bri-winchester​ @50shadesofcockles @trasherasswood​ @spittingpagan @castielstolemyheart @becky-srs @phoenix13 @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @deancasology @top13zepptraxx

@love-neve-dies @good-things-do-happen-dean @tearsofgrace @thedirtytrenchcoat @a-porno-with-the-russian-mafia @on-a-bender @moi-the-bard @one-more-offbeat-anthem @naturallyathief @queen-rowenas

#deancas #dean winchester #castiel #spn #christmas

[itsthestutterforme]

Just Friends (Supernatural)

Characters: Dean x reader

Summary: Y/N sleeps with a cute guy she finds at the bar. Dean finds out about it and loses his cool. Y/N didn't understand why until Sam told her that Dean has feelings for her.

"Where are you?" I read Dean's text as I walk into the motel room with a cute guy from the bar. "Busy," I text back before putting my phone on silent. "Right, now where-". Before I could even finish my sentence, he puts a hand around my throat and pulled me in for a kiss. This is going to be more fun than I thought.

**

I was in the middle of putting on my shirt when I feel his hands on my hips. He dips his head under my neck and sucks on the base. A soft moan leaves my lips when I hear loud knock on the door. I know that knock all too well.

"I would get dressed if I were you," I tell him. "Is that your boyfriend?" "No, it's not. He's just an asshat," I state. I open the door knowing that I am just in my bra and underwear.

Dean does a quick scan before snapping his eyes back to mine. "Really?" "I told you that I was busy," "Busy screwing some dude?" "Busy nonetheless. How did you find me anyway?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew what my answer was. He clenches his jaw and I sigh deeply. "Seriously, Dean? A tracker?" "Clearly you can't be trusted,"

"I can't be-- really Dean?" The guy walks passed me and gives me a quick peck before leaving. "Excuse me,". The guy says as he pushes passes them to get to his car.

Dean had a burning look in his eyes and Sam held him back with his arm. "Enough, Dean, you made your point." "Damn right. Just stop being a slut and start working on the case," Dean snarks.

"You did not just call me a slut," I say, crossing my arms in disbelief. "Don't act like one if you don't want to be called one." "You are such a hypocrite, Dean. I swear to God,"

"God's not here," "How many times have you banged some chick from the bar because you were bored or looking for a distraction?" "It's different,". "Fucking misogynistic asshole."

My hand comes into contact with his cheek and my starts to tingle from the impact. I push passed him and go back into the room to put my clothes on.

The entire hunt and drive back was silent, which I was completely fine with. "Come on, guys." Sam states, trying to lighten the mood. "There's nothing I have to say to him, Sam." "Likewise," Dean states. "Well suck it up, because you all know what's going on here." Sam says.

"Enlighten us," Dean starts. "You're protective of Y/N because you have feeling for her. But you know that she values friendship over other relationships. So you been fighting yourself to keep it platonic." Sam explains.

"Interesting theory," Dean and I make eye contact through the rear view mirror. We hold eye contact for a moment before I look back out the window.

We pull into the garage of the bunker and before I could say anything, Dean walks into the bunker and closed the door. "How long has he felt like this?" I ask Sam as he both get out of the car.

"Probably since you had those nightmares and it locked in when the darkness threatened to hurt you." "What? When did that happen?"

"Last week, he was a little shaken when he came home. I persistently asked him what was wrong and he finally said it." "You should really talk to him," he adds.

"I don't even know if I can. You know how closed off he can be if he's embarrassed," "You'll get through to him. I know you can," he encouraged.

A large sigh left my lips and he claps a hand over my shoulder before walking inside. I take a shower and made my way over to Dean's room. I knock once before walking in and see Dean laying on his back with his arms linked behind his head. He had his headphones in and looked in my direction.

I sit down next to him and he sighs deeply before taking off his headphones. "I don't need to hear you reject me, alright? I know I have no chance with you." "I never said that,"

"Well I remember you saying since we met to keep things platonic." "And I'm sorry, but you're perfect. Everything about you is perfect to me. I can't deny that," he adds.

"You think I'm perfect?" "What? You don't," "Well, you know what they say. You are your worst critique," I say with a soft chuckle. "I have to do this at least once," I hear him say.

He takes my face in his hands and hovers over my lips with hesitation. I press my lips against his and climb into his lap. He hums into the kiss as his tongue does wonders inside of my mouth.

He doesn't know where to put his hands as his minds switched from feelings of friendships to lust. I grab his hands and place them on thighs. "Sorry for slapping you," I say as I pull away from his lips. "And I'm sorry for calling you a slut. The slap was hot though," he says, his deep voice vibrating my chest.

"So ask me the question," I suggest, wrapping my arms around his neck. "What question?" "The question you've been dying to ask me." His eyes search mine and he asks, "Will you be my girlfriend?" "Hell yes." I push him on his back and rest myself on his hips before kissing him warmly.

#supernatural #dean x reader #sam x reader #jensen ackles

[wormstacheangel]

Almost: Ch. 3

Hello! It’s a happy ending story so don’t worry but I wanted to write more about Dean’s relationships with others. Read it on AO3 link (maybe leave a nice comment?)

Ch. 1 link | Ch. 2 link |

Summary:  Dean comes back from the long drive with Cas in need of some comfort. Sam is there to finally get him to talk out his feelings and admit to things he has been pushing down. Then he has to go face Cas the next day.

Word Count: 2920 More Under the Cut

“So, what?”

Dean was sitting on the floor behind the register of Charlie’s café. His head rested against her legs as she took orders, feeling too damn embarrassed to go home to face Sam or go to work and face Bobby. Charlie was the only other person who he was close to but she came into his life after Cas already left it.

“You’re just gonna hide here?” Charlie said before her customer service voice took over. “Hello! How can I help you?”

She took an order while Dean continued to munch on the brownie she has given him earlier. It wasn’t warm anymore but it was still damn good. He was glad he had a best friend who would let him eat his feelings and provided the food.

When she addressed him again she crouched down to smile sadly at him. He hated it. “Dean, I didn’t even know you liked anyone.”

“I didn’t fucken know I liked anyone either.” He groaned in annoyance as he threw his head back but it hurt as it hit some glass mugs. “Ow! Damn it, Charlie!”

“Don’t take your anger out on me!”

“I’m-I’m not! I’m just mad in general! At Cas being back. At me not over my damn high school crush. At dumb fucken Mick .” Dean let his head fall into his hands. “I’m 26, dude. I shouldn’t be dealing with this shit anymore.”

“What does age have to-?”

“I shouldn’t be having boy problems!” He pulls his head out of his hands to explain to her before he groaned again. Mumbling, “I’m too damn old for this shit.”

“Maybe if you focused more on the pretty girls like me then you wouldn’t be in this mess.” She jokingly nudged him as she sat on the floor beside him. Pulling him down so she can awkwardly hold him. “I think you just gotta be the mature one, Dean. He’s probably not staying for long anyway so how about you just go to the funeral like we planned and then we can forget that little Castiel walked back into our lives. Does that sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“That’s the spirit!” She dropped a kiss on top of his head. “Now, are you going to stay and hug my legs until closing?”

“Thinking about it.”

Charlie laughed but shoved him off when he dropped his full weight into her.

Dean did end up going home. He needed a hot shower and hoped to whatever god was listening that Sammy won’t come looking for him today because he knew Bobby would have called him. He knew Sam would be worried - Bobby would be too but won’t admit to it and Dean respected him for it - and he would come barging in with his emergency house key he made without permission. Then he would want Dean to talk.

Sam always wants Dean to talk.

A few months of not talking after suddenly losing his Mom and his best friend moving away and suddenly, ‘you’re someone who needs to be watched, Dean.’

Dean wouldn’t be damn surprised if there were hidden cameras in his apartment. At least he’s given whoever is watching a damn show every once in a while.

Luckily he took a hot shower in peace. His apartment was filled with music as he walked around his room to clean the already tidy space. His mind floating around to think of nothing in particular. Making himself not think of what happened. Not think of Cas. Not think of the damn kiss. Not think of his baby blue’s that still hold so much power over him. Not think of his dumb smile or horrible singing voice.

“Fuck!” Dean grabbed one of his pillows and buried his face into it. “Fuck you! Fuck you!”

“Dude,” Dean jumped as he heard the familiar voice behind him. Sam walked into his bedroom with beers in hand as well as a greasy brown paper bag. “Is that any way to talk to someone who brought you supplies?”

Dean dropped his pillow on his bed and passed Sam, bumping their shoulders together. “Fuck you. Stop letting yourself in.”

Sam let out a low chuckle but followed him to the small kitchen. “You weren’t going to let me in.”

“Cause you’re nosy, asshat. That’s why.”

They dropped into the kitchen chairs while Sam passed him his food, grinning like an idiot and annoying Dean to no end. Dean liked eating in silence but his brother wouldn’t stop looking at him and smiling. Like he’s hiding something or knows the damn secrets to the universe.

Dean was almost done with his second beer and half his fries when he kicks Sam’s chair. “Just fucking spit it out, Sammy!”

Sam sat up in his chair and leaned in closer to Dean as if he was about to share a secret. As if anybody else was in his apartment to hear them. “Guess who’s back in town?”

“Cas.” Dean quickly answers as he leans back in his chair, his feet resting up on one of the extra chairs, and takes a sip of his beer.

“How’d you-?” Sam blinks at him in shock before shaking his head. “Well, I bet you don’t know that he’s engaged to this guy named-”

“Mick.” Dean rolled his eyes as that name escaped his lips again. “Fucking asshole.”

Sam leans back on his chair, his face dropping into a scowl. “How do you fucking know that?”

Dean shrugs as he takes another fry and dips it in ketchup before chewing on it. Ignoring his brother’s waiting stare. “I just know things.”

“Fuck you.” Sam pushes Dean’s chair back in annoyance. Dean would want to do the same thing but Sam’s chair was now too far away for his legs to reach. “Who told you, dude?”

“Who told you ?” Dean asked back while he scoots back to the table.

“Gabriel. He came looking for Cas at the garage so he told Bobby and me. We also met the dude.”

“Dude? You mean Mick?”

“Yeah. He was pretty chill. He has an accent.”

“Accent?”

“British.”

“Fuck!” How was he even to compete with some fancy British dude? He’s seen the Great British Bake Off. Those people are nice. Cas deserved a nice person. “I don’t wanna see Cas being all gaga for this dude tomorrow.”

“Dude, his Dad is dead. Pretty sure his mind would be somewhere else.” Sam tells him. Watching him with those damn wide eyes that scanned him. Looking for any damn indication that there could be something wrong. “What’s up with you? Are you...wait.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean could read it in his brother’s face. That damn aha moment lit up his whole face.

“Are you still hung up on Cas?” Sam’s grin broke across his face and Dean stood up to walk to his front door.

“Thanks for dropping by, Sammy. Now leave!” He opened the door and motioned Sam to walk through it.

“Hell no!” Sam rested his feet on the empty chair. His arms crossing over his chest as he got comfortable. “My big brother’s high school crush just walked back into town with a ring on his finger and you want me to just - what? Ignore it? Hell no.”

“Sam.” Dean’s voice went lower as a warning but Sam didn’t budge.

“Dude, just talk to me!” Sam tells him, opening his arms up as if showing Dean that he is ready to listen. “You used to talk to me about Cas all the time! Hell, you used to talk to me about the guys and girls you’ve been with every other day!”

“That was before.” Dean slammed the door shut knowing Sam wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He dragged his hand down his face as he walked to the couch, not hungry enough to finish eating.

“Before what?”

“Before shit got complicated.” Dean fell into the old couch and didn’t look at his brother. Instead looked down at the beer in his hand, his thumb scraping the label off with elbows on his knees as he leaned forward in his seat. “Before Lisa left me cause I wasn’t ready for a commitment. And then Benny left because I was going too fast. Shit. I haven’t been able to get a damn thing right for a while.”

“And what? You thought Cas would be the answer?”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know. I just saw him and I felt...better. Lighter.” A smile crept on his face. “He was still wearing that ugly coat Bobby gave him a long time ago.” He chuckled before he cleared his throat. Catching himself falling again.

“You still love him?”

“Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel the same way.” Dean tells him, a short cold chuckle like breath escaped his mouth as he shook his head. “He doesn’t feel the same way anymore, Sammy.”

“Dean.” It was a quiet sad tone and Dean was gonna tell him to shut it but then he found out why Sam was using that tone on him. Dean was crying.

“Maybe now that Cas moved on. Maybe you can too.” Sam walked over to sit beside him on the couch. Not touching Dean but just being close enough to comfort him. “You can stop waiting for him now.”

That was it, wasn’t it? Dean has been waiting for Cas all these damn years and he didn’t even know it.

“Fuck. I’m so stupid, Sam.” Dean shook his head as he put his beer down on the floor before he covered his face in his hands. “He kissed me too.”

“He kissed you?!” Sam sounded shocked but Dean didn’t look at him.

“Yeah. He did. Told me he missed me too.” Dean hits his head in frustration. “I’m so fucking stupid!”

“You’re not, Dean!” Then Sam’s arms were around him. Pulling him into a sideways hug that Dean was going to push away from but instead he let his little brother hold him. He’ll hate himself for breaking down in front of Sam tomorrow. Right now he needed the comfort. “It’s okay. You can move on now. You know now so you can just move on. Let your heart heal.”

Heal. Yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice. He thinks to himself as he took a calming breath like Sam always tells him to do.

But if he couldn’t move on 5 years ago, when the kiss was terrible, how was he suppose to move on now? With the taste of Cas and the feel of him in his arms was still burned into his mind? Still fresh. Still new.

Craving it every second he can’t have it.

“I love him, Sammy.” Dean took a shaky breath. “I still love him.” And it’s killing me knowing he doesn’t.

-

The next morning Dean was standing outside the funeral home with Charlie fussing over his and Sam’s hair. Dean kept loosening his tie while they waited for Bobby to finish the phone call with a customer, letting them know they would be closed for a friend's funeral. Friend is really putting it nicely.

Chuck was a creepy squirrely little guy with anger issues. He was sweet sometimes - like every other psycho - but his controlling nature was always a scary sight. But he helped Bobby keep the shop and helped them pay for the funeral cost of their Mom so he was an honorary friend at least.

Why was Chuck so generous to help them? Fuck if any of them know but they weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. That’s for sure.

“Stop fidgeting, boy!” Bobby slapped Sam’s hand away from him loosening his tie and pulled him down to fix it again.

“Ow! Uncle Bobby, that’s too tight!”

“Stop whining. We’re already late as it is.” He said patting Sam’s shoulders when he was done. Sam made a face of distaste as he rolled his eyes. Lucky for him Bobby didn’t catch him. “Dean come here. Let me fix your damn-”

“No! No. I got it.” Dean smiled reassuringly at him as he quickly tried to fix it but he wasn’t quick enough as Bobby pulled him down to fix it again. Dean groaned as he did tighten it but it was loosened just enough so he wouldn’t struggle to breathe. “Thanks, Uncle Bobby.”

Bobby looked at all three of them with a proud grin. “Now behave yourselves. This family hates us enough.”

“What an encouraging speech.” Dean commented while Charlie grimaced at all of them.

“Just stay in the background and the sooner we can leave without causing a scene the better. Got it?” The three of them nodded half-heartedly. “Good! Let’s go. Keep close.”

They started walking behind Bobby and into the funeral home. Dean kept his eyes down not wanting to look at anyone in the surprisingly crowded place. Well, not surprising. The Novak family was huge. The family of seven was big enough but then add all the damn cousins these guys had and it was a full house. Some people were even standing outside so they could talk.

It took Dean a solid 15 minutes to even find a parking spot - he ended up parking a block away - because the small parking lot quickly filled up.

So with this crowded place, he was hoping he wouldn’t have to bump into Cas. At least not bump into him so soon but of course, he’ll be the one welcoming people in.

“Fuck.” Dean hissed under his breath as his eyes met Cas’s.

Cas stiffened at the sight of him - which always made someone feel welcomed - before he forced a smile. But Dean can still read that face like a damn open book. His jaw is clenched just enough for people not to notice the stiffness while his hands fidgeted into his suit pants pocket. Yeah, well, Dean was uncomfortable too. Cas ain’t special.

Dean’s eyes traveled down Cas’s body and - bless him father cause he wants to sin - Cas looked great in a damn black floral suit. It was well fitted. Probably tailored since that is the type of family the Novak’s were and lucky for Dean it hugged him in all the right places. Dean’s eyes drifted to down only to notice there was a hand wrapped around his lower back.

Dean’s breath caught in his throat.

“Hey, Cas.” Sam stepped in front of him first and wrapped Cas into one of his big bear hugs. “Nice seeing you again but I’m sorry for your loss.”

Cas barely had his chin on Sam’s shoulder as he patted Sam’s back awkwardly. “Thank you, Sam.” Cas pulled back to smile at him. “I hope we can catch up before I leave. I would like to hear more about your studies on witchcraft.”

“How’d you-?” Sam asked but Cas motioned at the guy standing next to him. The guy that just had his arms around Cas’s waist. As if claiming him.

“Michael told me you two talked yesterday.” And then Cas turned to look at Dean. “Mick I know you meet Sam and Bobby but this is Sam’s older brother. Dean.”

Fuck you, Cas.

“Oh, Dean! I heard a lot about you from my Cas here.” He nudged Cas, who awkwardly laughed before he held his hand out for Dean to shake. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Fuck this fucker and his dumb accent. Dean narrows his eyes at him, trying to read him. As if he would see any red flags or alarms over his head. But he looked like someone he would root for on the British Bake Off and he hated him for that.

Charlie nudged him to shake the outstretched hand but Dean wouldn’t budge. He instead shrugged at him. “Um, germs, man. But nice to meet one of Cas’s friends.”

Charlie pinched his arm at that comment while Cas rolled his eyes, his shoulders dropping with a tired sigh before he glared at Dean. Mick only laughed as he took his hand back but then he wrapped it around Cas’s waist again and Dean regretted not preoccupying that fucking hand.

“Fiance actually.” Mick grinned up at Cas who strained a smile. “Hmm, I figured Sam would have told you.”

Dean mocked a smile. “Oh, he did! Shit must have slipped my mind.”

“Dean.” Cas almost growled at him.

Dean chewed on his bottom lip for a second before swallowing hard. He turned his hard smile on Cas. “I know. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry, Cas, we’ll keep an eye on him.” Sam tells him as he starts to shove Dean ahead where Bobby already disappeared to find a chair in some sad corner probably.

“Um, sorry for your loss.” Charlie gave Cas a quick hug. “Oh, I’m Charlie by the way. New best friend but it’s nice to meet you! I mean...wished it was under better circumstances but what can you do?”

She started to nervously laugh and Sam tugged at her arm to drag her along as well.

“Bye!” Charlie waved at them awkwardly, Dean saw Cas wave back with a grin and raised an eyebrow, before she sighed. “Wow, that was awkward.”

“Oh, you think so?” Dean sarcastically says while Sam’s too big arm wraps around his shoulders, probably to hold him in place. “This place better have an open bar.”

“It’s a funeral, Dean. Not a damn party.”

“Meh.” Dean shrugged before they found Bobby in the back row sneaking a sip of a flask. “Give it here, old man!”

#Destiel #Deancas #Supernatural #SPN #A More Profound OTP #My Writing #WormstacheWrites #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #mutual pinning #angst #destiel au #hey is this considered slow burn? #only a few chapters left I promise

[fics-of-culture]

4 Ways To Show Someone You Love Them 5/5 *Complete*

Summary:  Gabriel, Lucifer, Balthazar, and Cas all consider themselves fairly adept when it comes to the art of romance. They all have their own unique approach when it comes to wooing someone. And, unfortunately for you, all four of your beloved angels seem to have their sights set on you.

Words: 1,771

A/N: I am reposting all of my old fics because my old account accidentally got deleted.

Part 5: Epilogue

Sam and Dean were halfway to committing angel genocide. You had been gone for a week on a hunt without telling anyone where you were headed or how long you’d be away. As a result, all four of your ‘winged dicks’ as Dean called them, were hanging around the bunker 24/7 waiting for your return. It wasn’t very noticeable at first. Dean has been sitting in the kitchen, drinking a beer when Cas showed up suddenly. Dean was unfazed by his sudden appearance, having grown accustomed to angels poofing in and out of the bunker as they pleased. Castiel looked around the room as he asked where you were.

“Hunt.” Dean replied dismissively, continuing to drink his beer.

“Do you know where? I need to speak with Y/N. It is urgent.” Dean looked up at Cas, concerned about why Castiel needed to speak to you so urgently.

“Didn’t say. What’s the matter, Cas. Y/N in trouble or somethin’?” Castiel shifted nervously on his feet, not wanting to tell Dean what he needed to talk to you.

“No. Y/N’s not in any trouble as far as I am aware.” With that, Castiel turned and walked out of the room. Dean was left sitting there in confusion at the odd conversation. As Castiel stepped out of the kitchen, he headed towards the library, contenting himself to wait in the bunker until your return.

~~~~~~~~

The boys only had to wait a few days more for their next angelic headache to show up. Sam had been rinsing his hair in the shower when he realized he could no longer feel the water washing over his body. When he opened his eyes he realized that instead of standing in his shower, he was standing buck naked in his room. And standing before him was the infamous trickster himself.

“Dude, what the hell?” Sam shouted, attempting to cover his junk with his hands.

“Oh relax, Sammy. I’m not trying to sneak a peak.” Gabriel snaps his fingers and a towel appears in his hand. “I’m looking for Y/N.” Sam let out an irritated sigh as he took towel Gabriel offered him.

“Y/N went on a hunt.” Sam explained as he covered himself with the towel. “Surely you could’ve waited until I was done showering to ask me that.” Sam frowned as he ran his fingers through his still damp hair, noting the shampoo that hadn’t been fully washed out.

“Could’ve. But didn’t.” Gabriel had a smirk on his face, but Sam could still see a ticker of disappointment in Gabe’s eyes when he mentioned that you were gone.

“What do you need Y/N for anyway?” Instead of responding, Gabe raised his hand and snapped Sam back into his shower. Gabe let out a sigh as he left Sam’s room. He had no interest in explaining himself to tweedle dee when it came to you. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Gabe decided to head to the kitchen. Might as well grab some snacks as he waited for you to arrive.

~~~~~~

Dean was working on baby when Lucifer zapped in.

“Hey moron,” Dean let out a groan of frustration when he was pulled out from under the car by none other than the devil. He was getting really sick of constantly being bothered by the angels you called friends. “Where’s my human?” Lucifer was blunt and too the point. But Dean didn’t like the way he referred to you as ‘his’.

“First off, Y/N does not belong to you, and second, if you’re looking for Y/N you’ll have to get in line.” Lucifer scoffed as he considered Dean’s words. His brothers had been seeking you out as well. That... would not do.

“So my human isn’t here?” Dean sighed, knowing his words weren’t gonna get through to the devil any time soon.

“No. Went on a hunt.” Dean didn’t even bother with full sentences at this point, considering how many times he had to repeat the information to your impatient angels. “Can I get back to what I was doing now?” Dean gestures to baby.

“I suppose so. Since you seem to have no useful information anyway.” With that, Lucifer disappeared.

~~~~~~

By the time Balthazar appeared, the Winchester’s knew something was up. Sam and Dean had been researching possible hunts in the war room when he showed up. Before he could even open his mouth, Dean cut him off.

“Not here.” Sam chuckled a bit at Dean’s dry response.

“I see.” Balthazar looked around the room, thinking. “And I suppose I’m not the first one to inquire as to Y/Ns whereabouts?”

“Dude, not even close.” Sam answered.

“Yeah, your brothers have been harassing us for the past week. I’m five seconds away from cutting myself open and banishing all your asses.” Dean looked exasperated as he spoke.

“Well then, I suppose I ought to wait elsewhere for Y/N’s return.”

“Yeah, I’d say so.” Sam said. With that, Balthazar sauntered out of the war room. Sam and Dean looked at each other and sighed in unison. You needed to get back, NOW.

~~~~~

You let out a relaxed sigh as you stepped out of your truck. You’d enjoyed your time away, but you were happy to be back home. Your guilt flared up as you stepped through the door into the bunker. You hadn’t actually gone on a hunt like the Winchester’s had thought. You’d kinda sorta went on a little vacation. In your defense, cases had been far and few in-between lately and you deserved a break every once in a while. You figured that if something came up while you were gone, the brothers would be more than capable of taking care of it. And you had decided not to tell anyone to avoid any unwanted angels coming along with you. As much as you adored your angels, you needed a break from them sometimes. Your guilt grows as you walk into the library to see a very frazzled Sam and Dean.

“Oh thank god.” Dean pulled you into a bear hug, looking incredibly relieved that you were home. “Where have you been?” Dean pulls back to look you in the eye. You’re surprised by how distressed he looked.

“Dean? What happened? You look stressed.”

“Those asshats happened! That’s what!” Sam put his hand on Dean’s shoulder in an attempt to get him to cool off.

“What he means to say is that, while you were gone, your angel friends have been making things difficult for us.” Sam shoots you a sympathetic smile when he sees your crestfallen look. Dean, however, marches on.

“Yeah, they’ve been here day in and day out for the past two weeks making life hell. Between the constant pranks and nonstop bickering, we haven’t been able to get anything done.” You feel awful all of a sudden. You had no idea going on a little trip would take such a toll on the Winchesters. You’re also incredibly upset at your angels for acting like this. You leave for two weeks and the bunker is thrown into chaos.

“Alright,” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’ll sort this out. Where are they?”

“Your room.”

~~~~~~

You sigh as you head up to your room, all the relaxation from before completely drained by the stress of dealing with four angelic children. As you near your room, you start to hear the bickering that the boys had mentioned before.

“As if Y/N could ever fall for you.” You slow to a standstill as you hear this. It sounded like Lucifer but you weren’t sure who he was talking to.

“Oh yes, I’m sure Y/N much prefers you following her around like a lost puppy whilst acting like you couldn’t care less about them.” Ah, Balthazar. Well that explains that mystery. You hear a chuckle from somewhere else in your room. “I don’t see why you’re laughing.” Balthazar continues. “You’re just as bad when it comes to constantly being up Y/N’s ass 24/7.

“Oh right.” You identify Gabe’s voice this time. You note the rising irritation in all of their voices as the discussion continues. “Maybe I should just go around talking to them in a language no one here actually SPEAKS, because you’re to much of a coward to say how you feel in English.” Before Balthazar can respond, a gravely voice speaks up.

“This conversation is pointless.” Cas points out. You feel relieved that one of them is finally being objective about the situation. “Besides, it is my belief that I share a more profound bond with Y/N than anyone else here does.” So much for objectivity, you think idly.

“If Y/N needs someone I braid their hair, I’m sure you’ll be the first they call.” Lucifer states dryly. “But I find it incredibly hard to believe Y/N would choose someone so pathetic.”

“Watch who you’re calling pathetic there, baby bro.” Gabe starts up again. “Cassy here might be a wet blanket.” You hear a quiet ‘hey!’ In the background as Gabriel speaks. “But he ain’t the one who threw a celestial bitch fit in heaven when daddy didn’t give him what he wanted.”

“I’m sorry, where were you when that happened?” Lucifer’s voice was steeped in anger now. “Oh right, you were busy running your ass away from heaven. And speaking of angels who ran away...” Lucifer’s voice is drowned out by Balthazar’s protests. Everyone was shouting over each other at this point. You knew you needed to intervene at this point, but for a moment you just felt frozen. Your angels, were all in love with you. That much was clear from what you’d overheard. Everything was suddenly much clearer to you now. All of your friends’ odd behavior as of late had been their attempts to woo you. You felt foolish for not realizing this until now. You wondered if any of them had been very successful in their attempts. Of course, there was one angel who had managed to completely sweep you off of your feet even before all this began. And now you knew without a shadow of a doubt that he loved you as much as you loved him. You shake off these thoughts and go to open the door to your room.

The room falls silent as all four angels turn to see you standing in the doorway. Each one of them, Lucifer included, at least had to decency to look embarrassed that you’d overheard their argument.

“I think,” You look over to angel. The one you love with all your heart. And your heart pangs as he smiles softly at you. “We need to have a talk.”

#spn #spn gabriel #spn lucifer #gabriel x reader #gabriel imagine #spn gabriel x reader #gabriel #spn lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #spn lucifer imagine #lucifer imagine #lucifer #balthazar #spn balthazar #balthazar x reader #balthazar imagine #castiel #spn castiel #castiel x reader #castiel imagine #cas x reader #reader insert #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural reader insert

[superfanficnatural]

The Cold Of Heart

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: (I really do not want to spoil) You decide to tell Dean how you really feel.

A/N: Ok so I found this and completely forgot about it so I’m just going to post it lol. As always, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: I’m not spoiling but angst, negative thoughts. Don’t worry, no triggers or anything like that. 

Gif is not mine

Six years. You had been hunting with the Winchesters for the past six years, falling in love with one of them almost instantly. At first, you wanted to make sure that it was real, not just infatuation, so you waited. Expecting it to go away, you were surprised to find out that your love kept running deeper and deeper, finding new reasons every single day to love that goofy green eyed hunter. Once you knew you were in love with him, you waited, praying that he would feel the same. Everyday, you dropped subtle hints, hoping that he would pick up on them or at least show some kind of attraction to you. After all this time, he didn’t say or do anything, so you decided enough was enough, you were going to confess your feelings for him. 

Walking into the library, you saw Dean sitting down on one of the chairs, propping his feet up on the table. You smiled and walked up to him, “Hey, Dean. Where’s Sam?” you asked.

“He’s out, said he had to go shopping for something,” he grunted, looking up at you.

You went over and sat down at a chair across the table from him, taking a deep breath, “Hey, I uh, have something to tell you,” you warily admitted.

“What’s up Y/N?”

“I- at first when I- um... I think-” you were a stuttering mess, already having a blush on your face.

“Y/N, take a deep breath for me,” he chuckled, putting his feet down and resting his elbows on his legs, giving you his attention.

You took in another deep breath and exhaled slowly, “For the longest time, I waited,” you started, “I waited for you to give me a sign, anything that showed that you felt the same way,” you started.

“Y/N...”

“Don’t, please, let me say this,” you shakily cut him off.

“Ever since I first met you, I had this undeniable attraction to you. At first I thought to myself, he’s just attractive, it’s all just physical attraction,” you began, “But after a while, getting to know you, I found myself falling deeper and deeper. The way your eyes shine when you have a genuine smile on your face, the caring and protective side of you for those you love. I couldn’t help but fall for you,” you breathed, a smile threatening to grow on your face.

“You never gave me any kind of indication that you felt the same way even after all of the hints that I dropped, I don’t know if you ever even really saw them but I decided that enough was enough and that I should just flat out tell you,” you took a deep breath, “I’m in love with you, Dean Winchester,” you picked up your gaze and looked at him. He seemed like he was having an internal struggle and his face had lost all color. 

The silence was deafening and you didn’t know if you could take it any longer. After a few moments, he steeled his face and responded.

“Y/N, I’m sorry but...”

No

No no no no please, don’t

“I don’t feel the same way.”

You couldn’t breathe, a lump in your throat closing off your air, your eyes wide and mouth agape. You felt like you were being sucked into a bottomless pit of despair, becoming disoriented you couldn’t feel your arms or legs. You thought that he was just hiding it because he was scared, that he didn’t want to ruin what you guys had. Your heart was broken, and there was nothing that you could do to fix it. 

There’s nothing else he can say that could break me further than this

“You’re like a little sister to me.”

A tear fell down your eye, followed by another, and another. There was this pain in your chest that hurt more than any stab wound, any gunshot. It felt like it was piercing your heart, bleeding it of its life. You couldn’t be here anymore, seeing Dean’s steeled face with no emotion, you couldn’t handle it. You got up and ran, ran as fast as you could to your room, your legs feeling like ghost limbs. You shut the door and sat down on your bed, bawling your eyes out. 

He didn’t take the hints because he never liked you. Why would you ever think that he would like someone like you? You aren’t even his type, eat too much greasy food, love handles for miles, you’re disgusting.

The voice in your head was driving you insane, it voiced everything that you were afraid to admit, all of your insecurities. 

You never deserved someone like Dean, you don’t deserve happiness, only suffering.

“Shut up,” you growled. “That’s not true,” you muttered, not believing it but hoping if you said it, it would become believable. 

Even you don’t think that, you’re pathetic, they only asked you to join them so they wouldn’t feel bad if you died on a hunt by yourself. God knows you can’t hunt to save your own ass.

You couldn’t stop the voices, they were overbearing, bringing all of your deepest darkest thoughts up to the surface. You couldn’t sit still, pacing around your room with tears streaming down your face. Bringing your hands up to your head, you tried to get rid of the voices but they weren’t letting up.

You can’t get rid of us, for we are your inner thoughts, the ones you tried to push down. If only you had understood that you were worthless, this wouldn’t have been happening.

I can’t do this anymore, you started packing all of your stuff up with haste, throwing your clothes into your duffel. You grabbed the keys to your car and snuck out of your room, Dean wasn’t anywhere in sight so you took your opportunity and ran to the garage, getting in your car and hightailing it out of there. You were on the road for about ten minutes before you started crying again, flashes from your conversation coming back to you.

You’re like a little sister to me

I don’t feel the same way

You felt like you were suffocating, unable to draw breath. Your heart still had that piercing pain, as clear as ever. The tears were coming at full force, blinding you so you couldn’t see the bright lights rapidly approaching your car.

Dean’s POV

Shit, I knew that conversation was going to come sooner or later. I had noticed every single hint that Y/N had dropped, but I made sure that I didn’t give her an inch. She could never find out.

After our conversation, she ran back to her room, tears falling down her face. I felt terrible, I had to force myself to stay in my seat so I wouldn’t go and comfort her, knowing she wouldn’t want anything from me. I went back to my room and could hear her crying through the wall separating us. There was a huge pain inside of my chest that no matter how hard I tried to push down it just wouldn’t go away. I felt like a complete asshat but this was for the best, I can’t do that.

After about half an hour, I decided to go talk to her, wanting to see if I could make her feel better. Walking into her room, my heart dropped. It was clean, she had packed up all of her stuff.

Fuck, no no no

I ran to the garage and saw that she had taken her car. I rushed back into my room and took out the tracker that could trace her car. 

Why isn’t she moving?

I didn’t have time to dwell on that, I got my jacket and keys and ran to baby, getting in and pulling out of the garage, baby’s wheels skidding on the floor from my speed. Checking the tracker, she was about three miles ahead of me. After a few minutes, I saw bright blue and red lights lighting up the forest and my vision.

No

I drove until I saw it, her car totaled, smashed into some other person's car. I got out of baby and overheard the officer say, “The witness in the other car said that she seemed to have tears in her eyes so she couldn’t see the road.”

I rushed up to the car and saw her. Body limp, flown out of the car from the windshield, cuts all over her face and body. The officer tried to stop me but I pushed him off of me and rushed to her.

“Y/N? Y/N can you hear me? No no no no, don’t leave me, I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me,” I choked out, tears streaming down my eyes. I couldn’t breath, her normally bright and beautiful face now colorless, her eyes that once had fire in them, lifeless. 

It’s all my fault. 

She’s gone and it’s my fault

I let out an ear piercing scream, the pain in my chest too much to handle. My soul felt like it was being ripped out of my body, punishment for not telling the truth. 

If only I hadn’t pushed her away, we would be safe and back at the bunker

I succumbed to the thoughts in my head, it really was my fault. She’s dead because of me, just like everyone else.

Two Weeks Later

“Dean, can I come in?” Sam asked, knocking on Y/N’s old bedroom door. There was no answer so he walked in, recoiling and holding his nose with his hand. The stench of alcohol everywhere.

“Dean, what the fuck? What are you doing?”

“Fuck off Sammy, leave me alone,” he muttered, drunk off of his ass.

“Look, Y/N’s death hurt both of us, but she’s gone Dean! She’s gone, and drinking yourself into a stupor isn’t going to bring her back!”

“Get the fuck out, before I kill you,” he snarled.

Sam took a step back, the venom in his voice scaring even him. He left the room and slammed the door, angry that Dean wasn't letting him help.

Dean took another sip of the bottle, emptying it. He was disgusted with himself, not caring if he died or not, knowing that it was his fault Y/N died, he felt like he deserved it. Hell, he wanted it. He had no purpose left in life, without Y/N, everything was dark. She was the light in his world, the light that woke him up in the morning, the light that made him want to fight to become a better person, and he was the one who snuffed it out. He threw the bottle against the wall, roaring out in anger, the tears steady streaming down his face. He picked up a shirt next to him, the only one that Y/N didn’t pack and brought it to his face, deeply inhaling her scent, bringing another wave of tears to the surface. 

If only I was strong enough to tell her, to tell her that I loved her.

Y/N POV

You woke up in a bright room, completely alone, in what seemed like a white box.

“Hello? Is this the new and improved version of hell?” you yelled out.

After a few moments, a door appeared and a man walked in. Fairly short, blue eyes and a beard, he seemed harmless.

“You don’t look like a demon,” you remarked.

He chuckled, “No, I’m not a demon, but who I am doesn’t matter, what does matter, is that it isn’t your time yet.”

“What do you mean ‘not my time yet’?”

He walked over to you, standing a few feet away from you, he smiled softly, his eyes glowing white, then everything went blank.

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp​ @shadowsinger11​ @donnaintx​ 

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags: @akshi8278​

Female Reader Tags: @punof-agun​ @emoryhemsworth​

#reader #dean #dean fanfiction #dean imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester #dw #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine #angst #new writers on tumblr #oneshot #dean winchester x reader

[demondeanismybaby]

Drifting

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam x reader, Dean , Sam , original characters, you 

Summary: Bar fights are bad news and these new guys in town seem dangerous but you are looking for any way out. 

Word Count: 1089

Trigger Warning: Fighting in line with the show, little tiny bit of smuttiness 

part two

It was anything but your typical Friday night down at Gary’s, yes that Gary’s, and you were seconds away from calling the cops. Working in a town in which every establishment is named after the person who opened it was more than boring it was a nightmare. Your fingers hovered over the button for the number 9 and your eyes were narrowed on the two men that had drifted in from somewhere out of town. The scene at the pool table was growing more and more tense as all of the local men gathered behind Ricky, backing him up, and you just watched. Ricky owned a construction business in town named, oh, well, you could probably imagine and he loved two things in the world drinking cheap beer and playing pool. His wife knew this and so did his kids. Waiting for someone to make the first move. Finally, it happened the stranger picked up the pool stick from the edge of the table and held it in his arm like some sort of weapon.

“Now just what exactly do you think you're going to do with that,” Ricky, the type of local that gave all other locals a bad name, said.

“Nothing,” the shorter of the two strangers said, “We won this game fair and square we’re just going to take our money and go.”

“Fair!” Ricky’s eyes bulged, “You two have been scamming every guy in this joint all night long and me and my boys here,” he gestured behind him to the group of men about 5 deep, "are going to teach you not to fuck with country folk."

You wanted to puke as Ricky said it, you hated the folk here and you wanted to be anywhere else in this moment than brokering some bar fight.

It looked as though everyone might have just parted ways if not for the fact that when both of the strange men went to turn their back Ricky just had to mutter something about them being freaks and suddenly the fists were flying.

The shorter man dropped the pool stick he was holding to launch one good right hook to Ricky’s face and after that, the taller man started to work on holding off the other locals as well as he could on his own. The only thing you knew they both had going for them is that they were substantially soberer and so the hits they kept throwing were landing perfectly. If you didn’t know better you would have thought both of them were trained fighters.

At first, you were going to just call the police and let them handle it, but as you watched the way the fighting was going by the time any local jo police officer was able to come by the place was going to be trashed and good ol’ Gary would probably try and take it out of your meager paycheck.

“Hey, Asshat!” You screamed at the blond short-haired man, “get out of here before I call the cops!”

The green eyes that met yours at that moment looked like emeralds even more so with the ruby red drip of blood coming out of a cut on his right eyebrow.

“Hey,” he said raising his eyebrow at you seductively “calm down sweetheart, we were just leaving.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” you said, “my name is y/n and honestly I have to deal with this disaster now because of you.”

The taller man with the chestnut hair and matching hazel eyes looked rather defeated at your arrival and the men who had threatened their money and their good time were all rather beat up and cowering in various corners of the dingy bar. “I’m really sorry,” he said, “I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean.”

“Sorry,” Dean muttered.

“Whatever,” you did your absolute best eye roll and started to right the first upside chair nearest to your foot.

“We would love to help you pick up,” Sam said. Picking up one of the ashtrays that had spilled little crushed up cigarette butts to the floor.

You knew things were pretty much over now that Ricky had run with his tail between his legs out into the night, so you figured the least the two handsome men could do would be to help you clean up.

It wasn’t long before the three of you were the only ones left in the entire place. Everything that had been uprooted had been set right and so the group of you had decided to have a couple of closing time drinks. You choose Budweiser for the simple fact it was the least likely thing for Gary to notice was missing. It was almost too bright when you stepped outside, the glow of the moon was so much so that the light had you looking out into the empty parking lot. Not a single car remained except for yours and the impala that Dean and Sam had told you about.

You could tell you were a little buzzed because you thought about the fact that both of those boys had probably bedded multiple girls in the backseat of that sleek black impala and a little jolt inside of you had you wondering if maybe you should try and become one of those girls. Both men were hauntingly handsome with their sharp jaws and strong shoulders.

“Are you alright y/n?” Sam asked wrapping an arm around you.

“Yeah totally.” You said although you weren’t sure the tone that came out indicated the truth of your words.

“Be careful out their y/n,” Dean said.

His eyes which you knew could be so bright seemed to lose a little of that shine as he said the words and you noticed how his easy demeanor was replaced by a furrowed brow.

You stood there in the parking lot with two strange men alone. Many thoughts raced through your head. Some were about the fact that this was probably dangerous and stupid but another part felt exhilarated and free. You were being your own person and waiting to see what the consequences would be. You wondered what you should say or do to keep the strange but exciting emotions flowing. Instead of doing anything you just froze feeling Sam holding an arm around you his breathing rising and falling against you. You could smell something like gunpowder on him it was a dangerous scent and you liked it.

“Can I come with you?” You asked.

Dean cracked a smile and said, “yes.”

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam x reader #dean x you #sam x you #reader insert #supernatural #My writing

[ophelialoveshandsomemen]

Keep Going Strong.

 A quick, little tale featuring Dean Winchester.

A.N. This is just a little story idea I had in my head and I’m writing it as a gift, as it were, for the magnificent @smol-and-grumpy. I know we aren’t mutuals, but I hope this’ll be a good pick-me-up for you. What with the random jerks on tumblr lately.  Lots of love, girl!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Sitting in the middle of the well-used bed she shares with the love of her life, a woman, whose age we’ll never know, closes her worn out laptop with a frustrated groan. She wishes folks on the internet would cease their destructive criticism and just stop being fucking dicks all the time. She realizes that maybe it’d be a good idea just to ignore them altogether, but she’s too exhausted to do  something even as simple as that.

 “ I should just quit! It can’t be worth all this!”

 She dramatically throws herself back into the duvet. Wild, unbrushed hair fans across the blanket in all directions. Tears threaten to fall, perhaps brought on by frustration, or fatigue, or maybe it’s just her damn hormones, who the fuck knows anymore! 

 Suddenly, the familiar face of her handsome man peeks around the corner. His somber eyes betray the cost of the draining hours he spent at work today. 

 “What’s not worth it anymore, darling? Social media eating away at you again?”

 He asks as he shuffles over to bed, nothing left on him but his half tied navy button down and his Scooby-Doo boxers that only she knows exist.

 “No,” she begins to reply, anger and sadness fighting a battle inside her,” just the asshats who use it! They’re belittling me for using Patreon since I also post on tumblr. Says I’m using the excitement of my readers to grab a few extra bucks! And I don’t!”

 “I know you don’t!”

 “I never force anyone to do anything!”

 “I know!”

 “ I give them the option, s’not like I post everything on Patreon and I only give teasers on tumblr!”

 “You post everything on both. That’s more than fair, I would say.”

 “ Than why do people hate me for it. And not just me, but others too! We’re human, we need money just as much as the next guy!”

 “ No arguments here, honey.”

 Her volume has dwindled to a mere fraction of what it was a minute ago.

 “Maybe I should just quit tumblr, nobody’s nice on that hellsite anymore anyways...”

 Dean lays down beside her, wrapping her in his arms and holding her tight. Willing her problems away won’t help, but he tries anyway. Anything for her.

 “You do realize that those bastards are just jealous of you right? They think they can’t write, or they know they can’t write, so they’re gonna make everyone else miserable right along with them.”

 She sighs. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t really make it feel any better to read their comments.”

 “Of course not, not saying it ever will. But in time, it won’t sting as much anymore.” 

 He places a heart-warming kiss on her forehead.

 “ And maybe you should keep going on tumblr. I know everyone on there is fucking bonkers, but you never know when there’s someone on there, a really shy and sensitive someone, needing that little bit of written inspiration and holding on to every shred of devil-may-care attitude that you so diligently exude on that hellhole. Especially the ones who can’t budget in Patreon, but who love you and your work so very much anyways. But not as much as I do, obviously.”

 He winks at her and kisses her again, but full on the lips this round.

 “Okay...”

 His spiel made her feel a little better, and he definitely gave her food for thought. But not right now. She would store his words to mull over later. At the moment, she wanted to enjoy having Dean, her rock in life, and who loves her more than anything or anyone else, here with her. 

 She mischievously raises her brow.

 “Wanna Netflix and chill?”

 His interest is peaked.

 “Can we do that thing you love so fucking much?”

 She kicks off running.

 “Only if you catch me before I get there!”

#I just hope I'm not insulting you #or some shit like that #with this #keep writing #and being awesome in general!

[rizlowwritessortof]

Black Velvet - Chapter 2

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1644

Warnings: (for the series as a whole) Demon!Dean (he deserves his own warning, dub-con, rough sex, smut, angst  

You are frozen in place, afraid to move or even breathe, as those lifeless black eyes stare down at you. He blinks once, twice, and the green eyes you love – loved - are back. You take a shuddering breath, looking up at him defiantly. “You… you are not Dean. You are some… thing… using Dean’s body.” Your eyes narrow, and you softly begin to speak, to utter the words you have come to know like second nature. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…”

He laughs. “I’m not possessed, sweetheart. You can’t exorcise me. I’m not possessed by a demon. I am a demon. And I am Dean.”

“You are not Dean!” You shout the words at him, throwing his assertions back in his face, refusing to believe them. But he leans in closer, just a hint of a smirk curving his lips.

“Oh, I am Dean, baby. New and improved. All of the fun, none of the drama. All play, no pay. I am all Dean.” He leans in close, his voice honey-smooth and seductive. “Every inch.” He moves closer, and you are pushing against the back of the chair, but there’s nowhere for you to go as his lips brush over yours softly, then capture them. Your eyes squeeze shut. Your mind is your enemy now, because instead of the brutal assault you were expecting, your tactile memory is telling you this is Dean. These are Dean’s lips, gently caressing yours, Dean’s tongue is teasing over your bottom lip, and you feel him smile against you at the small, desperate sound in your throat. But that smile is what stops you from being completely lost, and you jerk your head to the side.

“You are not my Dean.” He leans in, nuzzling his face in your hair, taking a deep breath before he speaks, his voice soft and enticing in your ear.

“Sweetheart, you keep telling yourself that. Maybe you can convince yourself that you don’t want me, at least for a while. But you can’t hide from me. I know all your happy places, I know how to make your body sing, and I know you miss the things I can make you feel.” He stands up straight and tall before you, his arms folded once again, biceps bulging beneath the sleeves of his red button-down. “I’ve got some business to take care of, but I’ll be back.” He turns to walk away, but stops for a moment, tossing his parting words over his shoulder nonchalantly. “By the way, you won’t be able to leave here. So don’t try. Or do, but it’s a waste of your time. And if you tell Sam I’m here… I’ll have so many demons on him that he won’t have a chance to fight back. Tell me you understand, because you know I’m a man of my word.”

Your eyes are spitting fire at his back as you answer defiantly. “I understand.” You turn your head, not even wanting him in your line of sight, but when you look back up, he’s gone. The tension leaves your muscles and you slump bonelessly in the chair, shaking violently, an unacknowledged tear rolling down your cheek.

——————–

It takes you a while to work up the strength of will to move. You go to the shower first, looking constantly over your shoulder, scrubbing your skin until it’s pink and almost raw, still not feeling clean. After throwing on an old pair of jeans and a big, cozy sweater, you wander around the bunker, afraid to test your limits. But finally you close your eyes for a moment, bolster your courage, and run up the stairs, fumbling at the door, yanking hard at the handle.  It doesn’t budge, and you stand there, a feeling of trapped panic bubbling up inside you until you can contain it no longer. You race through the rooms, trying the few other entrance points, but with the same result. He wasn’t lying – you can’t get out. And you know, with cold certainty, that he absolutely meant what he said about Sam.

Your cell phone rings, and you jump, crying out in fear. You answer, trying your best to sound normal. Or what would pass for normal these days. “Hey, Sam. How are you?”

“Hey - you okay? You sound out of breath.”

“Decided to work out, get rid of some stress. What’s up, Sam?”

“Listen.” He pauses, he sounds serious, and you wait, dreading what will come next. “I found Dean. Well, at least where he was, not that he’s here now. Smalls, maybe you should sit down.”

“Sam, what is it? Just tell me.” Your fingers are white, gripping the edge of the table so hard they hurt.

“I’ve seen him. He’s possessed. I saw the black eyes, caught on video after he killed a demon that attacked him in a convenience store. Crowley’s got one of his asshats wearing my brother.”

Sam’s voice is shaking, and your heart aches at not being able to be there, to help him. “Sam…”

“I will save him, and I will bring him home to you. I swear it. And while I’m at it, I’ll take Crowley out, too.”

“Sam, please don’t say that. I can’t… Please don’t do anything stupid.”

You hear him breathing on the other end, finally sighing as he tries to force himself to calm down. “Yeah, well… too late for that. But I promise I’ll be careful, Smalls. I’ve got another lead to track down. Just don’t give up on me, okay?”

Your face is wet with tears, and agonizing frustration at being unable to tell him what you know, what you’ve seen, is twisting in your gut. “I won’t,” you manage, and he ends the call with a “Talk to you later.”

You barely stop yourself from throwing the phone across the room. You can’t even tell him that his brother isn’t possessed, that his soul has been twisted and warped, and that he has become one of the things he’s always hunted. The warmth, the softness that used to shine in Dean’s eyes when he looked at you is gone. It’s him, but it’s not him, and you wish with all your heart that he looked like something else, anything else. Your heart aches in your chest, the longing for his arms around you and his lips on your skin even worse now. Because you could have it. You could be with him, physically if nothing else, and the temptation is overwhelming.

You make your way to the couch and curl up under the old throw that’s always handy there, well-used from movie nights and short naps during research sessions. You’re sure you’ll never sleep again, but you do, in record time, the shock and exhaustion defeating your fears.

——————–

His lips are warm on your neck, and they suck lightly at your skin before moving on, savoring the taste of you. He hums in approval as you tilt your head, giving him more room. He moves one large hand to your shoulder, calloused fingertips gentle as he slips your sweater down your arm, baring more silken skin for him to worship with his lips, his tongue. “So soft,” he whispers, and you feel yourself falling under his spell, his touch mesmerizing you and his voice a siren call you can’t resist. “Dean,” you whisper, beginning to lean closer…

A dark, low chuckle sends your eyes flying open, and you sit up on the couch so fast that your head spins for a moment. He’s sitting in a chair nearby, watching you intently, his eyes glittering, an arrogant smirk on his lips. “Enjoying yourself, sweetness?”

You should be afraid. You should be cautious, try to make yourself smaller in his eyes. But an intense anger washes over you and you leap from the couch, glaring at him as you move closer. “You stay the hell away from me!” you scream at him, your eyes wide, your teeth clenched. When you whirl around to leave, you find that you can’t move, your feet seem to be glued to the floor, and all you can do is shake with impotent rage. “I hate you. You’re a fucking monster, and I will never willingly let you touch me. Never. You are not…”

“Dean. Yeah. Is this on a loop? I could swear I’ve heard this before.” He stands up behind you, and somewhere inside you fear springs back to life. “Let me tell you what’s happening here, sweetheart.”

He moves silently around you, standing right in front of you, a mocking half-smile on his face. He shoves his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels a little as he stares down at you, and you refuse to look away, enough fury still in you to keep your terror at bay. “You’re telling me you won’t give in because then you think I’ll just take what I want. And if I take you by force, you can tell yourself it couldn’t be helped, that I was stronger than you, that I made you do something you didn’t want to do.”

“Fuck you!”

He laughs softly. “Oh, we’ll get to that. Eventually. Once you stop fighting what you’re feeling. Once you admit to yourself that you’re mine. I may have gone through some – upgrades – but you are still mine.” He bent a little closer, still not touching you, but close enough that you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You want me, and you will accept that – eventually. I’ll hear you say it before I touch you.”

“Let me go.” You glower at him, barely restraining yourself from taking a swing at his face. “You’ll never hear me say it. I’ll die first.”

His smile grows and there’s a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Be careful what you wish for.”

Chapter 3

#black velvet reblog #chapter 2 #demon!dean fic #demon!dean x reader #dean x reader

[lilulo-12fanfiction]

More Than I Can Say

More Than I Can Say- Dean Winchester x Reader

So here is the finished copy. I didn’t proof the rest of it so please ignore any mistakes. I mean...I wanted to include more...but I kind of got stuck and I didn’t want it to take me longer to post. It’s little snippets of events. Soooo if you’d like a Part 2 let me know!

As always your likes, reblogs, comments etc. are all appreciated. Please let me know if you would like to be added to any of my tag lists. As always- Requests are open!

a request for @chevyimpala00067​ with Dean Winchester. Prompts: 57: “ Is that my shirt? ” & 66: “ Is that a new perfume? ”

SPN Tag List:  @deans-baby-momma @fandom-princess-forevermore @magssteenkamp @blancastans @jn-wolf​ @waywardsistersandpie​

SPN Masterlist

Falling in love with Dean Winchester hadn’t been easy or simple. It hadn’t been expected. You were living your life as a college student with your mother at one moment and the next you were in Sioux Falls with your estranged father. And you  didn’t have the best start to your father-daughter relationship.

You had been the result of a fling your father had with your mother after Bobby’s wife died. Your mother had kept you a secret for most of your life. You had begged her to tell her who your father was. She continually told you that it was a tree you didn’t want to bark up.

When you were 20 years old and half way through your degree, your mother died of cancer. It had devastating effects. 2 days after her funeral you received a package in the mail. It contained a letter from your mother telling you about your father and it included some letters and a few pictures of the two of them. You thought it was a joke. Your mother had been a hunter and worked with Bobby Singer. When she found out she was pregnant she cut ties and disappeared determined that you wouldn’t grow up like that. “It’s the greatest regret of my life that you don’t know your father. He’s a good man.”

You sold the house and everything you could besides a few pieces of jewelry and a handful of keepsakes from your mother, packed up your Jeep and drove from upstate New York to Sioux Falls.

He slammed the door in your face. I mean you couldn’t blame him. Some random shows up claiming to be his daughter. Little did you know at the time, he thought you were a demon of Crowley’s trying to get one up on him and the Winchester boys. You steeled yourself as you stared at the door in your face. You put one of the photos and one of his letters in an envelope, taped it to the door with your cell number and the hotel you were staying at written on it and left to find a place to stay. You needed to figure out your next move. How stupid you had been to think that your long lost father would welcome you with open arms. How naive to think you could have started a new life with him. Now you had to figure out what to do and where to go.

“Hey Bobby- this was stuck to your door.” Dean Winchester looked at the neat handwriting with intrigue. Bobby yanked it from his hand mumbling about con artists and demons but tore into the manila envelope anyway. Sam and Dean watched as the color drained from his face. His hand ran from his forehead down to his chin.

“Bobby- are you okay?” Sam stepped towards him, face laced with concern.

“She was telling the truth…I have a daughter.”

“I’m sorry- what?!” Dean stood wide eyed and slack jawed.

“She was here. I was horrible to her and slammed the door in her face. I thought it was Crowley playing his games. I didn’t believe her.” Dean grabbed the envelope.

“Well looks like she’s willing to give you a second chance at a first meeting. I’ll be back. Sammy help Bobby get his wits about him. I’ll go get her and bring her back here.”

“What if she won’t come?” Bobby looked heart broken and self-loathing all at the same time. Dean grinned at him.

“Who can say no to this face?”

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          * You sat at the table in your hotel room staring at nothing in particular at all trying to decide where to go and what to do next when there was a pounding at your door. You tentatively turned the door handle and yanked it open. You were expecting the cranky old man, but instead were met with a cocky grin and smiling green eyes.

“Sweetheart, you need to learn how to drop a truth bomb.”

“Excuse you? Wait who are you?” Annoyance was dripping from your voice, but sadness was written all over your face.

“I’m Dean. Here to fetch you for your Daddy who is kicking himself for being an asshat. You must have gotten your looks from your mother. Lucky you.” You scoffed.

“Fetch me? I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t even know you!”

“I’m a good friend of Bobby Singer. A surrogate son- luckily not blood related.” He gave you what you would begin to call the Dean Winchester Wink. As you rolled your eyes, Dean would never need a blood test to prove you were Bobby’s daughter. He saw it in your attitude.

“You must go after some low hanging fruit with those lines. Clearly being good looking makes it so you don’t have to try very hard.” He grinned at you, the cheesiest grin you’d seen in a long time.

“You think I’m good looking sweetheart?”

“Not enough to excuse all of this.” You waved your hand in his general direction. He threw his head back and laughed.

“There’s something to be said for nature vs. nurture. You may have never spent a day with Bobby but damn do you have his attitude. Listen, he found your envelope and feels like crap. Come back. Give him a second chance.” You hesitated for a moment. “C’mon sweetheart. I promise if you want to leave I’ll bring you back anytime you want.

“Let me grab my stuff.” You turned to get your purse and jacket, paused and turned back to him. “Stop calling me sweetheart.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you shut the hotel room door behind you. You felt his hand find the small of your back to lead you down the hall. You didn’t know it then, but that would feel like home a few years down the road.

Dean pulled into the salvage yard and turned off the Impala. You were impressed with the car but you’d be damned if you’d let him know that. He was about to get out when he saw you staring ahead and not moving. He got out, came around to the passenger side and opened your door and squat down next to you.

“Look- I don’t know your story, I don’t know your mother or why she kept you and Bobby apart. What I do know is Bobby is one of the best men that I have ever known.  He’s been more of a father to me than mine own father was sometimes. I’m sure his initial reaction scared you off. But you left him your contact info for a reason. He’s good people. I promise you- you decide you want out of here and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Give him a chance.” He put his hand out to help you out of the car. You studied his face for a moment, while he was smug and obnoxious when he showed up at your door, he was nothing but sincere now. It was your first glimpse into the real Dean Winchester. You were comforted by the sincerity coming from his expression. The way his eyes crinkled when you smiled would end up being one of your favorite things in the world to see. You nodded and placed your hand in his and let him lead you to your future.

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

You surprisingly took the truth about the supernatural well. While the story of Dean going to hell and the Angel Castiel gave you pause, you knew it deep down to be true. Maybe it was because your mother had told you in her letter first. Truth be told you thought she had lost her mind to the chemo, but then you started getting hit with memories from your past, or well her past. While she had given up the hunting life, you remembered her conversations with other hunters who would stop by for advice or to rest- including John Winchester.

Bobby had been livid when you told him you had met John. There was no way John hadn’t known you were his. If John Winchester hadn’t already been dead, you were sure your father would have done him in. Now 6 months later you were in deep. He was already in a mood and you had just made it worse.

“You are NOT going on the road with Sam and Dean.”

“Yes, I am. I can’t sit around this place doing research telling them how to kill monsters when I can actually do it.

“Listen- if Bobby doesn’t want you to go, sorry sweetheart but you’re staying here.” You were seething.

“You know what, fine. I’ll go out on my own. I can find cases.” You stormed past Dean and gut punched him. “And I told you not to call me sweetheart”. Sam stood watching like a deer in headlights not wanting to say anything and piss you or Bobby off even more. He decided to stay put instead of following you out to your car. A few minutes later her heard you scream.

You were going to murder Dean Winchester. He must have anticipated your going on your own declaration because he had messed with your Jeep. The oil was leaking and when you hadgotten down on the ground to check it out you had gotten covered in oil.

You came charging back into the house and Sam had bitten back his laughter. He didn’t want any of your wrath pointed at him. Dean would eventually pay for his sins. Sam wanted to make sure all of your anger was directed accordingly.

“Sweetheart-“ Dean made sure to put emphasis on the unwelcomed pet name. 

“Is that new perfume? Eau De Grand Cherokee?” He belly laughed. Sam was sure he saw homicide in your eyes, and then he caught the glint. You snatched the Impala keys off of the counter and ran out of the house.

“Y/N DON’T YOU TOUCH MY BABY!” Dean roared after you. Bobby’s anger had dissipated.

“I supposed I should get used to the idea of the two of them.” Sam raised his eyebrows at Bobby. “C’mon Sam- don’t tell me you don’t see it. Those two are falling head over heels for each other.”

“You’d be okay with that? Dean and Y/N?” Sam was surprised. Bobby wore the “Over protective father” outfit well.

“Sam- your brother is a good man. I couldn’t ask for someone better to take care of her. I’ve seen how he takes care of people he loves. I’ve watched him take care of you. The two of you are the best men I know. She’ll be in good hands. They just have to get out of their own way to see it.”

“You know if she goes out with us, we’ll die before we let something happen to her.” Bobby nodded.

“I know. I just want to keep her safe here. But hell, It ain’t safe here either. The only way she would be safe is if she never found me.” Sam was about to respond but covered his mouth as he laughed as he watched Dean, also covered in car oil carrying you across the yard over his shoulder.

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A milk run. A freaking milk run he had told you. A simple salt and burn. A great way for he and Sam to show you the ropes.

This was not a milk run. The person they thought was doing the haunting, the bones they salted and burned, was the person trying to protect innocents from the spirits haunting the house. The brother of two evil twin sisters and they couldn’t find their bodies. They had somehow separated you from him and Sam. Why couldn’t things just go their way for once?

Dean was trying to get the door to the room that you were locked in open. The creepy sisters had some murder ritual that they were holding you for. Sam was searching for the bones to salt and burn.

“DEAN!!” You screamed his name, he could hear the fear and tears in your voice. You weren’t a crier and you were one of the bravest people he knew, you didn’t scare easy.

“Hang on Y/N. It’ll be okay.”

“I’m out of salt rounds and there’s no God Damn iron in this room.

“Sammy is gonna find the bodies and I’ll get this damn door open.” Your voice was closer, you must have move towards the door.

“You can’t open the door. They shut it. It’s not a lock you can pick. Tell my dad I’m glad I got to know him. Even if we only had a little time together.”

“Don’t you start that goodbye shit. This isn’t over!” He yelled the last part.

“Yes it is.” He felt the coldness from the room on the outside of the door. You must have been freezing.

“Bring it bitches.” Your voice was fearless. You’d only broke when you knew it was just the two of you. He was beating down the door, renewed strength. He felt encouraged when it started to splinter. Moments later he froze in fear when he heard screaming. At first he thought it was you but then the door popped open. There you stood with a container of salt in your hands. You must have been throwing it at the sisters. Dean saw the faint remains of flames and ashes.

“Sammy found the bones” You cried and dropped the salt. Dean ran forward and slipped his arms around you, pulling you tight to his body, one hand cradling the back of your head. Another feeling you’d come to associate with love, safety and security.

“It’s okay sweetheart. It’s over. I’m so sorry.” Sam watched from a distance with a smile on his face. He was thrilled you were safe and that he had stopped the terror twins. Dean was different with you around. Good different. Your body relaxed in Dean’s arms.

“Can we not tell my dad how bad it was” Dean laughed and hugged you tighter.

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“You knew Sam was alive?!” Dean raged.

“I wanted to tell you. I didn’t find out until recently. My dad kept it from me too. I called you as soon as I found out. I left you a message but by the time you called me back Sam had gotten to me. He said he wasn’t ready. He said you were happy. I wanted to call you and tell you so many times. I’m sorry.” You wiped a few tears from your eyes. “They said you were happy Dean. Really happy. I couldn’t be the one to ruin that. You, more than anyone, deserve real happiness. And honestly, it wasn’t my place to tell you. It was Sam’s. He came back and didn’t want to tell you. I couldn’t do that to him. I was screwed no matter what I did.

Despite his rage, he couldn’t stay mad at you. And you weren’t wrong. He sighed and looked at you. "It's okay Y/N. It's not fair for either one of us to put you in that position" It was a terrible position for you to be in. He pulled you in for a hug. His hand found the back of your head. He loved Lisa, he truly did. But you, you felt like home. He didn’t know what the hell to do.

"You're not mad at me?" Your voice was almost a whisper.

"You're right. You were screwed either way. You did the right thing by staying out of it. I'm sorry for yelling at you." To be honest, you were pretty shocked. You expected Dean to rage at you at least a little bit longer.

"I'm glad you're here now. I"m sorry that Lisa and Ben were put in harms way, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you."

"I missed you too, Y/N. You could have come to see me, you know."

"I didn't think you wanted to be a part of this life any more and I didn't want to take the chance of anything following me to your family." You looked away from Dean, trying to hide the hurt expression on your face after calling Lisa and Ben his family.

Sam had hinted to Dean that he wanted him to go off an live a normal life with Y/N. Dean knew that if they stayed together, they'd never give up the life. So to honor Sammy, he had let and went off to Lisa and did everything he could to get Y/N out of his mind. Now his heart belonged in two places, but he had to honor what he had with Lisa.

"You will always be my family too Y/N. Always." Dean wanted to say more, but you had just given him a quick nod of your head and rushed off into the other room.

The idea of Dean with anyone hurt. The two of you flirted relentlessly and always got jealous when the other had the nerve to talk to someone else at a bar after a hunt. This was a hard pill to swallow. You hadn't expected Dean to walk away. You had thought you were in it together. Then he was gone. Sam was gone. Even Castiel was essentially gone. You had your father and the two of you continued his work, helping other hunters and occasionally went on a small case.

Then you found out Sam was back. You had been elated and then confused as to why he wasn't going to Dean. Then he told you how happy Dean was in his new life. How he had started over like you didn't exist. Like none of this had ever happened. You had accepted it and tried to move on. Now he was back, and he was still looking at you like he did before he left. You leaned against the door and pinched the bridge of your nose. You had to get it together. Dean wasn't really back, he was here to take care of his family and then he would be gone again. You would be alone, again. Dean watched you slowly disappear knowing that he made a mistake leaving you behind. His heart belonged to you, it had since the day you sassed him at that hotel and it always would.

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You should have stuck with Sam & Dean. The most recent case brought the three of you back to your old stomping grounds in Upstate NY. Sam and Dean had encouraged you to go off and see some of your old friends while they worked the case. They could handle it. You deserved some fun and you needed a break. 

It had all been too much. Sam without his soul was tricky. Dean had tried to make it work with Lisa but realized quickly that he couldn't have that family and be a hunter. Dean Winchester was a hunter. The "Apple Pie Life", as he put it, would never be for him. You had known that, but hated seeing him hurting all the same. The three of you were in this weird funk and it was stressing you out. You felt like you couldn't breath and the powder keg that had become your life was ready to blow. You were eager to pretend this wasn't your life, even if it was just for a day or two.

That fun had blown up in your face. You held the phone to your ear willing him to pick up. You felt a flood of relief wash over you when he finally did. 

"Dean...."Your voice came out in a cry. "I need you. Something happened." After a few reassurances that everything would be fine, you gave him directions on how to find you and the warehouse you were holed up in. You should have known that you wouldn't ever get a break. This life would haunt you until the end of your days.

Dean had Sam circling the outside of the warehouse as he went in to find you. He could smell the blood and death. He was hoping that a few days with your old friends would breath some life back into you. You had seemed like a shell of the girl he first met. You had put an effective wall between the two of you. He knew it was because he had left. The flirty banter was a thing of the past. You seemed to be operating on auto pilot. The past year had taken its toll on you. As he stepped quietly, holding his gun, he saw her. Your best friend from college laying on the floor, eyes wide open, throat ripped out and lifeless. Dean closed his eyes for a moment and felt the loss for you. He leaned over and used his palm to shut her eyes. At least now she looked like she was sleeping. He slowly moved to the back of the warehouse and that's when he saw you. Sitting against the wall, skinny jean clad knees pulled to your chest with your chin resting on them, glassy eyes and covered from head to almost toe in dried blood. He would have been worried it was yours if he didn't see the headless corpse a few feet away from you. He tried to assess the situation. A vampire must have gotten the jump on the two of you. He assumed the vamp attacked your friend first and met its unfortunate end at your hand and the blade on the floor to the right of you.

"Y/N." Dean rushed to your side. You looked at him with watery eyes. He put his hand on the side of your face, despite it being covered with dried blood. "Are you hurt?" You shook your head no and stared forward.

"She's dead."

"I know." He sighed.

"This vamp- knew who I was, knew I was Bobby's daughter. Apparently Bobby and Rufus had taken out their family. He had gotten away and tried to live his "best life" or whatever." You air quoted as you spoke. "Then he heard some demons talking, Crowley's inner circle, that Bobby had a long lost daughter. So he started looking into me. Before...Bobby didn't have anyone to lose. With a daughter, the douche bag thought he could get his revenge. He chased us and we ran into this place to try and get her someplace safe." You scoffed. "I had my back turned for two seconds and I was too late. After he killed her, he attacked me. He had me pinned to the ground. Luckily I had a knife with me."

"Did you...did you saw his head off with that tiny knife." You nodded. "While he was on top of you?" Dean took your lack of response as a yes. "Damn that's bad ass. Explains you being covered in blood." He tried to joke. You closed your eyes and a few tears fell. "Listen to me, Y/N...you did the best you could do. her death isn't your fault." You tilted your head to the side.

"It is. Because in this life we don't have the luxury of having relationships with people that aren't hunters. With people that can't defend themselves. I shouldn't have come here." You looked up and saw Sam watching the two of you.

"She's okay Sammy...go get the car." Sam nodded and ran out of the warehouse. "C'mon, let's get you out of here and get you cleaned up. Sam and I will take care of her and the vamp body." You nodded and let him pull you to your feet. Your torso was soaked in blood. It was like you had been standing under a red waterfall. He studied you for a moment. Your skinny jeans were paired with ankle boots, a black tank top and a red and black plaid shirt. "Wait...is that my shirt?" You gave him a hint of a smile and let him lead you out of the warehouse giving your friend one last longing look on your way out.

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The imagine of you screaming and falling to your knees in the hospital as Bobby flat lined would haunt Dean Winchester for the rest of his days. The 4 of you barely got away from the Leviathans. You had been frantic when Dick Roman had gotten his hands on your father, but the 4 of you had gotten out of that building. Dean and Sam were celebrating in the front seat when they heard you cry out, holding your father, begging them to get to the hospital. 

There had been a glimmer of hope when Bobby had opened his eyes. His last act was trying to help the 3 of you save the world...again. His last action had been to look at you with loving eyes and squeeze your hand. Dean knew what he was saying with that. "Thank you for coming into my life." Bobby loved you more than anything. The bond the two of you had forged in a short period was strong. It wasn't fair, the two of you deserved more time together. Dean found himself blaming Cas again. If he had just listened to Dean, none of this would have happened.

But then Cas took Sam's burden, effectively giving the younger Winchester back to Dean and Y/N. You had told Cas you forgave him before he did that. You, who had lost yet another person you loved, could forgive the Angel. You understood he thought he was doing the right thing. You appreciated his regret and were thankful for the sacrifice he was making for Sam. Dean could only wish to have your empathy. His feelings were complicated. Cas was...his best friend. Like his brother. And like his brother, had betrayed him. You had shown Dean how to really forgive Sam. He was hoping he could follow your lead with Castiel.

The three of you were holed up in an abandoned house trying to hide from Dick Roman and his band of morons. Dean didn't want this for you. He wanted you safe but you wouldn't go. You were clinging to Dean and Sam, the only family that you had left. Dean was sitting against a wall, slowly stroking your hair as you slept with your head in his lap. Sam had given him a raised brow look when he walked in,  but said nothing and went back to his research. This was the only way you would get any restful sleep these days, if you were with him. As long as he was with you, you slept. Otherwise you were plagued with nightmares. Dean knew too much about nightmares. He would suffer though a thousand sleepless nights making sure you had peace.

After Lisa, Dean was sure he would never let anyone close to him again. He couldn't risk anyone's safety. His life wasn't meant for love. Then Sammy had to point out that you were already in this life and in danger. He had to point out he knew how much Dean loved you. That Bobby had known. That Bobby had approved. Sam was certain that you loved Dean too. Dean was a coward though and he couldn't say anything, so Sam continued to needle him. Finally Dean agreed to tell you how he felt, but after you had time to grieve the loss of your father. Dean refused to take advantage of your fragile state. He wanted you clear headed when he told you. He had decided that if and when they got rid of Dick Roman, that's when he would tell you. He looked down when he felt you stirring.

"You okay sweetheart?" You blinked a few times as you looked up at him. "I'm with you. I'm always okay with you." He smiled down at you. "Dean...you need to try and sleep."

"I'm okay. You rest sweetheart." You had long stopped demanding he not call you by his favorite pet name. You did notice that it was now reserved for you, whereas before it was what he called just about any female.

"Dee, you need to sleep too."

"How about this, you sleep and then I'll let Sammy drive tomorrow and I'll sleep in the car."

"I don't believe you."

"I promise okay?" You pursed your lips and studied his face. "Do I ever break my promises to you?"

"No...you don't." He watched curiously as you pulled yourself up and  knelt next to him. He turned to look at you and you placed a hand on his face and stroked his cheek with your thumb. "Thank you for taking such good care of me. I know loosing him was just as hard on you as it was on me."

"I'll always take care of you." he leaned his face slightly into your hand. "I promise." The two of you stayed like that for a moment and then Dean pulled you into his lap and had you settle in between his legs with your back pressed against his chest. He claimed it was to keep you warm as you slept. In reality, he just wanted to hold on to you without having to admit he was afraid that Dick Roman would take you from him too.

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“Sam where did they go? Where did HE go?” 

Sam wasn’t sure what was more painful. The moment you lost your father or the moment you lost Dean. You couldn’t compare them, not really. The loss of each had been deep. You had loved them both in very different ways. All he could do was replay your heart broken voice in his head. The moment you realized Sam was packing it in you were gone. You didn’t stick around to try and convince him. You didn’t even say a real goodbye. All you left behind was one line.

“He wouldn’t stop looking. Neither can I.”

You couldn’t believe Sam was throwing in the towel. He and Dean had come back from Hell. There was no way he was just gone. He and Cas has vanished into thin air. There was only one person who could tell you where he was. Crowley.

You were a multitude of things- desperate, confused, lost, hurting and most of all angry. Or maybe it was that anger allowed you to focus. You were so disappointed in San and so pissed at him. Dean didn’t go and try to live a normal life until he tried to get Sam back first. Sam was just willing to accept that he was gone.

Not you. You had lost your mother, your father, your best friend, Cas had been lost more than once and in more than one way and now Dean. You were getting him and Cas back. Your desperation and anger made you reckless. You knew the only way to get to Crowley was to start knocking off his demons one by one. You didn’t look for cases or people to save. Your only objective was to get answers.

You had been slaughtering Crowley’s Demons for the better part of a year when the King Of Hell finally showed himself.

“Hello Poppet.” His smarmy voice made your skin crawl. “You’ve been busy.” He looked around the room at your latest kills. He had to admit he was impressed. Dean Winchester has taught you well. “Well Darling, you got my attention. How can the King help you?” He was entertained by what he saw come out of you. The hardest eye roll he’d ever seen and a acids that would give Bobby Singer a run for his money.

“You know what I want.”

“He’s dead.“

“He’s not. I would feel it if he was gone.” That intrigued him. He wanted to see how this would play out.

“He’s in Purgatory. Apparently killing Dick Roman yanked open a portal.”

“How do I get him out.” Now it was Crowley’s turn to scoff and when you didn’t relent he rolled his own eyes.

“There’s a portal in the back woods in Maine. It’s exit only darling. Purgatory doesn’t like human offerings.” He saw the sheer determination on your face. A map materialized and he handed it to you. “Be careful poppet. And stop killing my men.” And in a flash...his majesty was gone. Anyone else he would have incinerated for killing so many of his demons. She was intriguing to him. She was fierce. It was curious to Crowley that Y/N Singer, who hadn’t been a hunter for even half a decade could demolish so many of his demons. Even more curious was the fact that Sam Winchester wasn’t fighting for Dean Winchester by her side. Dean’s reaction to that, to Sam running away, was all the reason to help get the hunter back.

God you were tired. All of the fighting, hunting and scheming was taking its toll on you, but you were too close to quit now. You were trekking through the woods in Maine to find where the portal opening to Purgatory was. You had stopped to rest for a moment when you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket. Shocked shadowed your features as you saw the caller ID.”

“Sammy.” Your greeting was flat. It had been almost a year since you had last spoken.

“Guess again Sweetheart.” Your heart started pounding as his gritty voice filled your ears.

“Dean?!” His name came out as a cry. “How are you back? Where are you?”

“It’s a long story, I’d rather share in person. I’m at the cabin. I’m dying to see you. Where are you.” You laughed.

“But I was coming to rescue you.”

“Rescue me? Where are you?” He pressed again.

“Maine. I’m hiking through the woods to find the portal to purgatory to save your ass.” It was Dean’s turn to laugh.

“Oh sweetheart. I’m so glad I got out before you stepped foot in that place. Wait- how did you know?”

“Crowley finally told me. I’ve spent the last year killing every Demon I could looking for answers.I’m on my way to you now.” Dean swelled with pride. He wished he could have seen the shit storm you had kicked up for Crowley. Though he was thankful Crowley didn’t retaliate.

“I can’t wait to see you.”

There were no tests when you arrived much to Sam’s protest. Dean knew it was you. You were barely in the door before he had scooped you up in his arms. A year of nothing but killing and fighting had finally caught up with you. The walls broke and you found yourself sobbing as Dean buried his face in your neck.

”Sweetheart it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

”I didn't think I would ever see you again.” Dean pulled away to look at your face. 

He placed both hands on the sides of your face and wipes your tears with his thumbs.

”I will always find my way back to you.” Sam shuffled and the moment broke. He thought Dean’s anger had been unbearable, but the way you were looking at him sent a shiver down his spine. You didn’t have to say anything. Your look said it all.

I told you he was alive.  

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It was one of the rare quiet moments you and the Winchesters had. It had been a roller coaster since Dean had been back. Everything with Kevin, the auction, all of the sniping between Dean and Sam and then you and Sam. Benny. You still couldn't get over the fact that Dean Winchester had befriended a vampire. Though you were grateful that he got Dean out of that place. Dean trusted him, that was good enough for you. You wished it had been good enough for Sam. It just caused more friction in an already tense atmosphere.

It was the middle of the night and you were sitting in an arm chair staring out the window, a spot you often took when you couldn't sleep, which was almost every night. Your nightmares were plagued by images of your father dead, or watching his ghost burn up, or Kevin and his mother. You had nightmares of Cas suffering in purgatory. The most frequent were of Dean and Sam dead. You were pissed as hell at Sam still, but the idea of anything happening to him tore you up inside. The idea of Dean no longer being in this world was too unbearable to even think of. You felt Dean's calloused hand slide over your shoulder. Things had been different since he had gotten back. He had been more closed off. The closeness between to two of you after your father had died was still there, but it was different. It was like he didn't want anyone to get too close now that he was back. All the killing he did in Purgatory had taken a toll on him, but the loss of Castiel had been what  broke him. You knew he blamed himself, but he wouldn’t tell you what happened. Being at arms length was killing you.

"You need to sleep. You sit here like this every night." His voice came out as a husky whisper.

"I can't. I can't close my eyes and see what I see every night." You put your hand over his as he went to remove his hand from your shoulder. "Please don't pull away from me." You could feel his body stiffen for a moment and you let his hand go. He sat in the chair next to you, he leaned over with his elbows on his knees, quiet for a moment. 

"I have to. That place changed me. I'm different." You leaned forward and put your hand on his cheek so he would look you in the eyes.

"You're still Dean. You're still MY Dean. I need you. Please." You watched a variety of emotions pass through his eyes.

"Y/N..." his tone was warning.

"Don't Dean. We've danced around this for years. I almost lost you." Your voice came out in a sob." He adverted his eyes.

"Don't say it. Please don't say it. I'm no good for you. You deserve better than me." He looked back into your eyes and he looked shattered.

"You are the same Dean Winchester that came and got me from my hotel room. You are the same Dean Winchester that has been protecting me since the day I met him. You're the same Dean Winchester I fell in love with." You watched his eyes widen. "I think I've loved you since the moment I opened that door. And I've been too scared to admit it."

"You can't."

"Dean...you are a GOOD man, despite any mistakes you have made. You're the best man I know. Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me and we'll never talk about this again."

"You know I love you." He looked down.

"Then don't be a coward." His eyes snapped back up to yours. No one was ever brave enough to call Dean Winchester a coward. "We're in this life together. I'm not in any more danger if you love me or you don't. I don't want to be alone in this anymore." a tear slipped from your eyes. Dean lunged forward and kissed you. You felt every single piece of your broken heart come back together. It may be scarred, but Dean Winchester would make you whole again. You both knew the future wouldn't be easy, but you would face it together.

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester reader insert #spn #spn imagine #spn imagines #spn reader insert #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #supernatural reader insert

[destielstuffandthings]

Heat Of Battle

Based on a Tumblr post that read: 

what if 🤔 you defeated me in battle 😔 and when you tilted my head up with your blade beneath my chin 🗡️ we accidentally kissed 💋😳

The clanging sound of metal and screaming echoed throughout the battle field. Both army’s were losing men at an alarming rate, soon to be wiped out completely. The war in Heaven spilled down onto Earth and obliterated most of the northern hemisphere within a week, leaving little time for preparations to be made.

For weeks the army recruited men and woman who were either brave or stupid enough to take on the angels that were desolating the lower states. The war was quickly heading north when Dean Winchester was called into battle.

As a lieutenant, Dean was so stranger to battle. He lives with more nightmares than any person should, but he’ll be dammed if he isn’t diving head first into this. Dean is smart. He’s strategic. So when his recon mission revealed the identity of Heavens leader and more importantly, how they were killed, he asked for a meeting with their general.

They met in a warehouse a few miles from Dean’s base camp two days later. Having never met an angel in person, no one could blame him for being nervous. He entered the room with half of his platoon and was immediately shocked at their beauty, not that he let on. Their wings draped gently across the dirty floor but never seemed to pick up soot or dirt. Their armor was pristine and shining as if they hadn’t just been slaying thousands of their brothers and sisters. The leader stood in the middle of his garrison and greeted Dean with a hard glare.

Being in the midst of a war was not the time for Dean to be secretly fantasizing about a beautiful raven haired angel so he pushed the thoughts aside, strode into the room and listed his demands. He was polite but made sure that the leader, Castiel, knew how serious he was about putting an end to the war. But when the angel merely smirked and turned his back on Dean, the lieutenant smashed his fist against the table dividing them and demanded his surrender. Castiel flared his wings and disappeared into the night.

Three weeks later, Dean was surprised to get a message from Castiel, asking for a private meeting.

Come alone was all the note said.

Dean walked into the same warehouse as before but was taken aback when the door closed behind him. The room was filled with precious art and paintings of the past, it smelled of fresh flowers and the sea.

“Join us,” Castiel spoke as he squinted at one of the paintings, back turned to Dean. “Your skills could prove to be of value to me.”

Deans hand itched to brandish one of the angel blades he’d stolen off of Castiel’s brothers and stab it into his back but suggesting such a thing.

“Never,” Dean growled.

The angel turned and faced Dean with an unreadable expression. “Dean, I’m asking you. Please join us.”

“I’ll never abandon my men.”

Castiel ran a hand through his hair, a very human thing to do Dean thought, and sighed. “Dean Winchester, you are too important to be killed in this war. I---my father has explicit plans for you. You shouldn’t even be here.” He laid a heavy hand on the marble table in front of him and Dean watched it splinter. “Why are humans so intent on not doing as their told?” he whispered to himself.

“Free will, asshat. That’s why.” Dean turned and jerked the door open before turning his head over his shoulder. “I’ll see you on the battlefield.”

Which is why Dean finds himself in Stull Cemetery in Kansas, being beaten to a pulp against a cracked gravestone. His neck is craned backwards and he can vaguely read the name “Erickson” on the stone through the blood in his lashes. He swipes his dagger blindly through the air at his assailant, screaming out with each thrust.

“You can’t win,” he angel growls. “Go home! This isn’t your fight!”

“Fuck you,” Dean gargles through a mouthful of blood and loose teeth. Another punch lands solidly against his jaw and his world fades to black.

Later, much later, Deans’ eyes unwillingly pry themselves open. It’s dark and the crickets chirp loudly in his ear. He’s laying next to Erickson’s grave surrounded by blood and bones. Feathers rain from the sky and land in his hair. They’re burned and bloody, but Dean still can’t seem to find them anything but beautiful. Panic shot through his mind as a charred feather landed on his chest, looking almost the same color as Castiel’s. He pushed the thought aside as he lifted his head and leaned against the gravestone and looked around the decimated cemetery. His heart clenched in his chest when he saw his platoon scattered across the field.

A figure came into view as tears streaked down his bloodied face. He turned to face it and let out a strangled sob as Castiel knelt down next to him with his blade drawn.

“Jus’ do it,” Dean muttered through clenched teeth.

A pained look washed over the angels face before he lifted two fingers to Dean’s forehead.

Relief flooded Deans veins as a brilliant blue energy surrounded his face. He felt his bones realign and his skin stitch itself back together. His head lolled to the side, only to be caught by a warm palm.

“It was never my intention to hurt you, Dean. My mission is to keep you safe but you---you’re just so---” The angel swallowed hard and stood. “I’ve healed you of your injuries. Please, Dean, go home. The war is over.”

Rage filled Deans vision as he watched the angel walked slowly away, his wings folded nearly across his back. Quietly and quickly he pulled out the silver angel blade and rose to his feet. He trailed behind the angel until he was close enough to reach out and grip his shoulder.

“It’s not over,” Dean hissed. He spun Castiel around and lifted the blade to his neck, pressing it roughly against his throat. “It’s not over until you’re dead like the rest of em.”

Castiels’ jaw clenched as he stared Dean in the eyes. He leaned forward a fraction and the blade nicked his skin releasing a blue swirl of energy. “Then do it, Dean. Kill me.”

Deans’ hand trembled around the blade as he took a half step closer to the angel, completely eradicating any space between them. He could feel the power pouring off the angel as he washed over his chest and face. It briefly reminded him of the feeling he’d get when his mother would push him high in the tire swing in their backyard or when he’d driven his car too fast. He pushed those thoughts aside and steeled his nerves. 

The angel stared back at him, unwavering for a few moments before he raised his hand and laid it over Deans.

“It can end here,” Castiel whispered. “Let it end.”

Shifting on his feet Dean tilted the angels chin up with the blade. “This ain’t over. Not by a long shot.”

Deans free hand shot out and gripped the angel by the back of the neck, hauling him forward just before removing the blade from his throat. It fell to the ground as their lips collided, the air around them swirling with electricity. The sky cracked overhead as Castiels’ hand gripped Deans shoulder, holding him in place as he furiously kissed the human in front of him.

“I told you,” Castiel ground out between kisses. “I have plans for you.”

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