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underground-secret · 22 days

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

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

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

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

Word Count: 9,251

Route 666

(Master list, Prev Ch, Next Chapter)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry ‘bout your dad,” he says.

“Yeah. Me too,” she answers.

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

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

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

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

“Like what?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He cuts her off, “Indifferent!”

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

Oh. Could she get any more iconic?!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love him and it hurts so much.

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

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

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

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

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

“Well visions, hallucinations” He elaborates.

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

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

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

Wow, what a lovely guy.

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

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

“You have. Where?” Sam pushes.

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

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

“Thank you” Sam nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dorian?” Dean repeats back. “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The murder,” Sam voices.

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you call the cops?” Dean pushes. She continues to cry, “This was forty years ago. He called on his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus’ body into the truck and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land and all three of them kept that secret all of these years.”

“And now all three are gone,” Sam acknowledges. This all confirms the theory of a vengeful spirit. “And so is Mayor Todd,” Dean adds, “Now he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?”

“He was a good man,” Mrs Robinson answers, “He was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus’ disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he…he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cassie asks, her voice hard yet full of emotion. I couldn't imagine what was going on in her head, to find out something like this–“I thought I was protecting them. And now there’s no one left to protect,” her mother reasons.

“Yes, there is” Dean counters, fiercely. His green eyes harden with determination as he looks at Cassie.

I sit on the cold hood of the Impala, gently kicking my legs back and forth watching Dean pace in front of me. Sam leans against the car next to me, his arms crossed as he too watches his brother, “Ah, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms…”

I look at him with an amused smile, “I have no idea what that last part is but it sounds fun!” That stops Dean in his tracks for just a half of a second, he points at us, “No it doesn’t. I saved him from a boring existence.”

“Yeah, occasionally I miss boring” Sam reasons. I nod enthusiastically, “Honestly, we have not had a normal day in like months. Kinda miss it.”

Dean brushes our light complaining off, “So this killer truck–”

“I miss conversations that didn’t start with ‘this killer truck’” Sam quips with a dramatic sigh. I failed to hold back my laughter, Dean laughs lightly and for a brief moment, things feel how they used to, “Well this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for 40 years.”

“So what woke it up?” Sam asks.

“The construction on his house. Or the destruction,” Dean points out.

“Right. Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless” Sam recalls. His brother hums a ‘yes’, nodding.

“Like that theater in Illinois, ya know?” Sam references, and I in fact had no idea what he was talking about. “And the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus’ murder quiet and unsolved,” Dean adds, bringing it back to the case at hand.

“So now his spirit is awakened and out for blood,” Sam acknowledges.

“Yeah, I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway” Dean shrugs.

“Wait, does this mean we have to go swimming in that swamp?” I ask. I mean if we had to salt and burn the bones then we would need said bones which are in a swamp, how nice. Dean smiles at me, I know that look. “No” I warn, pointing at him like an animal that did something wrong. “You said it” he rationalizes.

“Noooo” I whine a pout on my lips, “Do I have to do it alone?”

His wicked smile deepens, “‘Course not, Sammy’s gonna be with you.”

Sam’s shoulders drop, “Man,” he sighs.

Suddenly a familiar figure approaches, her hands tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. Dean stands up straighter, “Hey.” She smiles sadly, “Hey. She’s asleep. Now what?”

“Well, you should stay put, look after her…and we’ll be back. Don’t leave the house,” Dean explains, looking at her in that way that hurts my heart. But she smiles, any worry melting off her face, “Don’t go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it.”

Dean glances back at us, Sam looks down grinning acting as if neither of us could hear the conversation. He turns back to Cassie mumbling something I can't quite make out but whatever it was must have been good because he slowly leans in to kiss her. I drop my head and gaze at the very interesting ground, trying my best to ignore the sound of their intensifying making out. A pang of jealousy, longing, and pain shoots through my chest. If the ground wanted to just open up and consume me now I wouldn’t complain, I’d even help it and just throw myself in it wouldn’t have to work very hard. Sam clears his throat, I look up but Dean just holds out a finger to wait as he brings Cassie even closer.

I drop my eyes again.

Loving someone never hurt so bad. Loving him never hurt so bad.

Was it wrong to love him? Was this always going to be my fate? To see him evermore with other girls, loving them more than he could ever love me.

“You two comin’ or what?” Dean asks. I look up once more and this time his lips aren’t on Cassie.

I tug on the chain again, making sure it's secure, my hands getting wet in the process. I wipe my icky hands off on my jeans as I back away, “Alright he’s good,” I call out to Sam who stands feet away from me, closer to the butt of the pickup Dean was driving. He gives a thumbs up to his brother who begins to move the car forward, the pickup moving slowly in the weight of the heavy truck and water pressure.

We had already gotten it up a lot, but it had gotten stuck on the side of the swamp so we had to readjust its hold to get it the rest of the way up.

The years in the water had diminished it. The old black truck was now more like a rust bucket, remains of the swamp water spilling out from the seams. “All right. A little more…little more,” Sam leads, “All right, stop.”

The engine shuts off and Dean heads to the Impala, he pulls it open rummaging through the various weapons. “Now I know what she sees in you” Sam declares with a snap of his finger, meaning he finally understood what that look in her eyes meant. “What?” Dean asks.

“Come on man, you can admit it. You’re still in love with her” Sam clarifies. I nod even though the implications hurt, “Plus it’s not like no one else knows. So the only person you’re hiding from is yourself.”

Dean looks up from the trunk, “Uhh, can we focus please.”

I purse my lips, “Yeah…focusing has never really been our strong suit…” A container of salt is pressed into my chest, “Hold that” Dean says swiftly.

His expression hardens, all jokes put to rest as he dishes out items, “Gas” he says first, handing the large container to his brother, “Flashlights,” he lists out next filling my empty hand with one.

“Ok, let’s get this done,” he quips, closing the trunk.

We trudge back over to the rusty truck, our flashlights leading our way across the grass. Dean places his hand on the handle and I must wonder how he isn’t grossed out by just the feeling of the flaked paint and rotting metal. He glances at us in a silent ‘you ready?’ We give a nod and he opens the door.

A decaying wet corpse falls out the door and onto the soft grass, a small gush of water following its lead. I leap back like a scared cat, clasping a hand to my mouth and nose the decomposition of the body as well as its marinating in swamp water left a putrid smell. One perhaps worse than anything I've ever smelt before which was saying something considering what I’ve hunted.

“All right let’s get to it,” Dean says. Sam pours the gasoline all over the body, careful not to get it close to us and I jump in with the salt, opening the little latchet to sprinkle the small white crystals over the open-mouthed corpse. The satisfying scratch and flick of a match sounds softly beside me in the quiet night followed by the drop of the matchstick on the body. In mere seconds the remains go up in flames, the warm glow of the fire reflecting on the truck just beside it. I hoped no one would come looking over here with the whirl of smoke twirling above us, the heat powerful enough for me to take another step back.

“Think that’ll do it?” Sam voices, staring down at the burning corpse. But his question is followed by the revving of an engine and two blinding lights pointed at us. Without looking in the direction I knew it was the ghost truck. “I guess not,” Dean quips.

“So burning the body had no effect on that thing?” the younger Winchester asks. “Sure it did. Now it’s really pissed,” Dean responds. I glare at him, “I don't know if this is the time for cool jokes.”

“But Cyrus’ ghost is gone, right Dean?” Sam asks, a hint of panic in his voice as the tuck stares us down. But his brother doesn't answer right away, instead, he starts to walk away, “Apparently not the part that’s fused with the truck.”

I go on my tip toes trying to peak into the truck, maybe we missed something like a severed piece of him that didn’t spill out but before I can vocalize this Sam is calling out to his brother, “Where are you going?” I turn around, catching up to the boys, “Goin’ for a little ride,” Dean answers as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What?!” Sam and I exclaim in unison, “That’s a horrible idea!” I add. But he ignores our concern, “Gonna lead that thing away. That busted piece of crap, you gotta burn it.”

“How the hell are we supposed to burn a truck, Dean?” Sam asks, voice raising in volume. But being the determined man he is he shrugs, “I don’t know. Figure something out.” He rounds the car, opening the driver's door, “At least let one of us come with you, this is horribly dangerous,” I try to reason.

His eyes move up and down my face, before he settles on my eyes once more, “‘Exactly why you’re not comin’ with.” Before I can come up with a retort on how stubborn he is he settles himself into the car, closing the door behind him. I look to Sam for any support on this but he just stares at the car muttering, “Figure some–something–”

I rack my brain for ideas because Dean wasn’t going to listen and would rather be all hot and stubborn than be reasonable, “An explosion?” I suggest. Sam shakes his head, “No, that wouldn’t work. Parts would go everywhere and everything has to burn.”

I huff, frustrated, “I hate when you’re right.”

Dean reverses the Impala and takes off, the engine revering. As predictable as possible the ghost truck roars after him. I try to rack my brain for more ideas, even if we could suddenly light a truck on fire it would take too long for it to burn completely, “Sam, please tell me you got some idea rolling around in there.” He doesn't answer, lost in concentration with his bottom lip between his teeth.

My phone suddenly rings in my pocket, I pull it out swiftly seeing Dean’s name glowing. I flip it open bringing it to my ear, “You okay?” I say immediately. “Uh…yeah,” He says but I remain not convinced, “what are we doing?”

I look at Sam, panicking slightly, “Um, Sam what are we doing?”

He pulls out his phone, “You gotta give me a minute.” He presses his phone to his ear, “He says to give him a minute, I think he’s callin’ someone.”

“I don’t have a minute!” He half yells. “Dude, I don't know!” I panic, “Just…just don’t die, okay?”

“Trying here sweetheart.” I look back at Sam who has stepped away, I give him a hand motion of ‘please hurry up.’ He nods, coming closer to feed me info, “Ask him where he is.” I pull my phone away from my ear putting him on speaker instead, “Okay, Dean where the hell are you?”

“In the middle of nowhere with a killer truck on my ass!” he exclaims, “It’s like it knows I put the torch to Cyrus.”

“Listen to me, this is important” Sam orders, calmly, “I have to know exactly where you are.” Seemingly taking his advice he goes quiet for a beat, “Decatur Road, about two miles off the highway.”

“Ok. Headed East?” Sam follows up.

“Yes!”

A rattle and a bang followed by skitting noise sounds from the phone followed by cursing, “You son of a bitch!”

“Sam!” I yell, begging him to hurry up. “Ok, uhhh, turn right! Up ahead, turn right.” Again the line falls silent, “You make the turn?” Sam questions softly. My heart beats faster with each silent moment that passes. “Yeah, I made the turn!” Dean yells, “You need to move this thing along a little faster.”

“All right, you see a road up ahead?” Sam asks.

“No!... Wait. No, yes, I see it.”

“Ok turn left.”

“Wha..?” Dean half says before he goes quiet again the only sound coming from the line being more screeching and shuffled movement. “All right, now what? He finally responds.

“You need to go seven-tenths of a mile and then stop,” Sam explains. I looked at him strangely, noticing he wasn’t on the phone anymore, but what the hell was he talking about? “Stop?” Dean voices.

“Exactly seven-tenths Dean” Sam repeats.

“God, I hope you know what you’re talking about,” I tell the man beside me. “Me too” he mumbles over the sound of his brother repeating the words ‘seven-tenths.’ I look at him my mouth agape, “You wha–”

“Dean, you still there?” He cuts me off, focusing on his brother again. “Yeah,” Dean responds.

“What’s happening over there?” I ask, not knowing was killing me. “It’s just staring at me,” he answers carefully, “what do I do?”

“Just what you’re doing, bringing it to you,” Sam replies.

“Wha–” Dean began before cutting himself off, the line going quiet for the umpteenth time, “Come on. Come on,” he mumbled quietly but just loud enough for the phone to pick it up. My heart thumps in my chest, anticipation and fear running through my veins as well as something else from those two stupid words–something had to be wrong with me to find that hot now of all times.

The line is silent, for one beat, then another, then another…I grip my phone tighter, “Dean? Dean, are you there? ‘You okay?”

“Where’d it go?” he responds with a mix of shock and confusion. “Dean, you’re where the church was,” Sam explains. “What church!” he freaks.

“The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids,” Sam clarifies.

“There’s not a whole lot left,” Dean responds.

“Church ground is hallowed ground, whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, and sometimes they’re destroyed, so I figured, maybe, that would get rid of it,” Sam explains. I hit his arm, “That was a hunch?!”

Dean adds in with the lecturing, “Maybe? Maybe!! What if you were wrong?!”

“Huh,” Sam hums, “Honestly, that thought hadn’t occurred to me.”

I glare at him sharply, hitting his arm again as I say, “You’re too sassy for your own good.” He laughs, a boyish grin on his face.

I wait in the back, Sam in the driver seat for Dean to say his goodbyes. I liked the back seat, more now than ever because being in the front would mean being able to see out the side mirror and watch Dean kiss the woman he loves and say a goodbye I was sure he didn’t want.

Life was being really unfair and uncool.

I bury my nose in my new book, it would be better to just escape into this world than have to deal with my feelings here in the real world. My feelings in the real world were not fun, they were depressing and hurt…a lot. But no amount of ink on paper formed into beautifully crafted words could fill the gaping hole in my heart, still, I tried as there was nothing else to do.

What is worse is knowing there will never be a chance for me to be loved by him, at least not in the way I do, because there will always be a place in his heart for her. He’ll think of her all the time, dream about her, and perhaps see her in the breeze. His heart belongs to her, and possibly always has.

I needed to accept that. The sooner I did the quicker the pain would go away. I couldn't go on believing I had a chance I needed to huff the flame out now.

No more hope. No more love. We’re friends, always have been, and always will be. That will have to be enough. I couldn’t love him anymore, not if it meant feeling this much pain. I wouldn’t accept his touches anymore for they gave me more hope than I’d like to admit.

No. I was wrong.

Worse of all is knowing that I can’t just stop loving him. Let it be the Gods' fault or the stars or whatever it is I’m meant to believe in but my heart has long been his and always will be. I could never love someone the way I love him, I wasn’t capable of that. Let it be that our love was written in the star's constellations that it was undecided by me or him for my love had to transcend the binds of that nonsense.

I loved him and he did not love me and maybe it was that which I had to accept because to stop loving him would mean to stop my heart from beating. Though even then I suspect not even the afterlife could keep me from my eternal love. And maybe that was pathetic or stupid, especially since he did not care for me in such a way, but it was the truth and no one has ever claimed truth to be a beautiful thing.

I’m brought back to reality with a bump. When did we leave and start driving? I look out the window, we had already made it to the highway…I look at the boys, but both seem fine. Ok then.

“I like her,” Sam says, and suddenly I wish to be lost back in the state I was in moments ago. I would love not to hear or be a part of this conversation. “Yeah,” Dean replies, seemingly just to get his brother to stop.

“You meet someone like her, doesn’t it make you wonder if it’s worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?” Sam asks innocently perhaps trying to get him to understand what he had felt with his girlfriend. But something flickers in his face and suddenly he’s making eye contact with me in the rearview mirror, his eyes written in apology as if it just hit him now what all of this was doing to me. It was that puppy dog look.

I smile sadly at him, giving him a curt nod in a silent ‘it’s okay.’ His gaze flickers back to the road.

Dean leans forward pulling sunglasses from the glove box, he puts them on carefully ignoring his brothers' initial question, “Why don’t you wake me up when it’s my turn to drive?” He slouches down in his seat with a sigh. I shake my head, roll my eyes, and go back to my book.

We were leaving Missouri and all would be well, or as well as they could be.

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weasleywinchester · 9 months

Text

Save Yourself - Chapter 18

So We Won't Have To Keep Them All Inside

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Helllloooo! I am so sorry for the super long hiatus. I hadn't planned that, but life got very bleh and uninspiring and stressful. Despite the next few chapters being the main part of the story I've been wanting to write I had a bit of self doubt in my ability to keep going. But it's here and hopefully on a slightly more consistent bases. If you haven't read this series then I will simply say I'm writing such a big fic because it's very much my Dean Winchester story. It's the one that has lived in my head so long, that has been thought about and rethought about so much that it makes the whole thing daunting. But my brain is back on this fic train and I'm hoping to finish it off by the end of the year. As always shout out to my tag list, you've been so patient and I hope you're as excited to read the next chapters as I am to write them. Much love 💙💙💙

Series Summary: “I promise.” Those two words would trap you in a life you never wanted. You are an artist, a hunter, a Winchester. And yet the pain in Dean’s eyes as demanded you live the life he wants you live, you couldn’t say no. You met the Winchesters by chance, found out they were real people. And you figured it was a once in a life time thing, but then Dean called you, and so did a new job. Both leading to the life you wanted, a family that didn’t begin or end in blood and a once in a life time love. And he said leave it and him behind, forget. But you can’t. Chapter Summary: The family trip to Dodge city was meant to be fun for the whole family… And it was, until it wasn’t. With Dean finally coming around on the idea of Jack not being outright evil, a bystander getting killed threw a monkey wrench into everything. And then there’s Claire; determined to be a hunter, to do it all alone until she realizes that having someone by her side is helpful. Warnings: Cannon typical violence, some fluff, some sad feels

A few days later

You all had managed to make it home in one piece. Jack was distraught and none of you knew how to help him. Death was an unfortunate part of living, and an unavoidable part of hunting. And how could you even begin to explain that to someone who’s been alive for a matter of weeks?

“I understand why you like the kid.” Dean says softly, “but I think we need to cool it with the training for a minute.” He gently slides his hand into yours, giving it a small squeeze.

“I just want him to see the world we fight for. To see what you and Sammy do is important.” You give him a meek smile.

“I know, sweetheart.” He kisses your temple, pulling you into his arms. “And you will. You make Sam and I believe in the Family Business all the time.” He chuckles.

You watch as the sleepy little town of Lebanon, Kansas rolls by; the sun is shining, crows flying through the air and baby roaring down the road. It’s amazing how the world rambles on, no matter the tragedy or joy that’s happening… Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you quickly fish it out to see a string of texts from Sammy.

“Jack isn’t taking it well.” You sigh, rubbing your eyes. Dean glances at you everyone once in a while, watching as you pull your lip in between your teeth and biting at the skin.

That’s not good. Dean thinks to himself.

“We’ll work through it.” He reassures you as he pulls up to the bunker. He swiftly glides the Impala into the garage, parking her right next to your little blue Subaru. He turns to open the door when he feels your hand on his thigh.

“You mean that?” You ask. He fully turns to you, eyes searching yours as much as yours are searching his.

“Ya.” He nods, taking a deep breath. “This case,” His gaze moves past you, eyes looking at something you can’t see. “It’s dug up a lot of memories of people I couldn’t save.”

“Dean-”

“Not— not in a bad way sweetheart, just a reminder.” He gently cups one of your cheeks, thankful you are not one of those people. Not yet. He shakes the intrusive thought from his mind, bringing his other hand up to your cheek. “And we’ll help Jack get past this.” He brings his lips to yours, pouring every ounce of love he can into the kiss. The heat of your lips warms his body head to toe, a little bit of hope seeping back into his bones. Hope that this small bump in the road is all it is.

“And as fun as Dodge City was, I think you and I need some time alone.” Dean hums in your ear, placing a gentle kiss on your neck.

“Okay Romeo.” You giggle, playfully swatting at him. Your phone rings out and you gently pull away, earning a pitiful whine from your husband. “It’s Claire.” You sigh.

“Fine.” He playfully rolls his eyes as he slides back to his side of the car.

“Hey what’s up?”

“I need you to come help me with this case.” She blurts.

“I’m doing fine. Little stressed, how are you?” You roll your eyes. Dean flashes a smile as he gets out of the car, grabbing the bag of groceries and walking inside.

“Hi (Y/N). How are you? You wanna come on a hunt with me?” She pointedly repeats. “I could use the girl power, and a Winchester. Which you happen to be both…” A sudden wave of voices drowns out her words.

“Where are you?” You frown.

“Bar, about an hour away from Omaha.”

“Nebraska?” You scrunch your nose, sliding out of the car. “We’re kinda dealing with that baby situation still, and Dean’s finally….” As you put your hand on the door the lights in the garage flicker.

“(Y/N)?” Claire asks.

“Let me call you back.” The words slowly tumble out as you hang up, feet moving faster than your brain as you appear in the doorway to the war room. “What in sam hill happened?” You ask, running over to Dean.

“Jack’s gone.” Dean grunts as he stands, turning to help Cas.

“What?” You frown.

“Jack thinks he’s a monster.” Cas sighs as he plants himself in the nearest chair.

“What did Claire need?” Dean asks, leaning against the war table.

“Wanted help on a case.” You check him over as you direct your question to Sammy. “How are we going to find him? He can’t be out there alone.” Your mind starts to race with all the possible ways he could get hurt, or how he could accidentally hurt someone.

“Baby.” Dean pulls you back to face him.

“There’s so much that could happen.” You whisper, the terror rising in your voice.

“Sweetheart.” He says firmly, squeezing your hands to get you to take a breath. “Go to Claire.” You open your mouth to protest but he shoots you a look, happy when your mouth snaps shut. “You help Claire, I’ll find Jack.”

“Call me -”

“When I find anything.” He nods, pulling you into his chest. “Gotta keep the kids alive.” He whispers in your ear.

“And you thought we didn’t have any kids.” You laugh.

“Should have known you’d get your way.” Dean chuckles, placing a kiss in your hair. “Be careful.” He whispers.

“I’m not the one who gets visits from Death on the norm.” You slap his back. “I will though… as long as you are too.”

“Promise.”

_______

The diner bell dings as you enter; It’s a little busy, but not much more than any of the ones back home. You wave to the waitress and pick up a couple of menus, sliding into the booth where Claire is sat. The waitress brings two mugs and a fresh pot of coffee, pouring each of you a cup before attending to the other patrons.

“We’re dealing with a nest of Vamps.” She begins.

“Why yes, the drive was good. Not much traffic, lot of semi trucks though.” You cock an eyebrow at her. She gives you a nod, letting a small sigh escape.

“Good. How’s the old man?” she asks, managing to keep the eye roll small. “ And Sam?”

“They’re good. Trying to track down that baby… who’s not actually a baby like we thought.” You frown, pouring a couple of creamers into your coffee.

“You guys always have the weirdest cases.” She shakes her head, taking a large gulp of her black coffee.

“Last name is Winchester. Pretty much a magnet for weird.” You pick the menu up, trying to read the specials but your eyes can’t seem to read any of the words. You check your cell. Nothing.

“Your volume is on-.” Claire grits her teeth as a notification dings. “If they found anything you would know.”

“Ya, well, if you ever disappear like this I would worry just the same.” You sigh. “Why did you need me on this hunt anyways?” You ask, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Can’t believe you drink it like that…” Claire looks at your mostly cream coffee in utter disgust.

“If I wanted criticism on how I take my coffee I would go find Lucifer.” You mutter.

“Like I said, I need a Winchester.” Claire reiterates. “Being a young female hunter has it's disadvantages.” Her eyes move to the door. “And Dean always tells the two of us to travel in pairs…”

You turn to see a pair of men walk in; they look like brothers, maybe a few years apart, dressed in standard issue hunter FBI suits. Ah, that’s why she didn’t want Dean.

“Brought a friend.” The older one smirks, sliding in next to you.

“(Y/N), Jason and Nick Clayton.” Claire gestures to the two. "We ran into each other while tracking one of the vamps."

“Pleasure.” You stick your hand out to Nick, the older one. “(Y/N) Winchester.” Before your name has even fully left your mouth both their jaws hit the floor. You glance at Claire, who simply shrugs.

“(Y/N) Winchester... like the one who killed Rasputin?” Jason asks.

“Killed– Dude she’s the one who took on the Devil AND GOD.” Nick exclaims.

“And freed so many trapped spirits in that haunted college–”

“And had an angel wipe her memory only for it not to work!”

You and Claire look at each other, the same look of bewilderment on your faces.

“Ok, cut the crap. It’s not like she’s famous.” Claire rolls her eyes.

“Not famous?” Nick scoffs. Claire looks over at you, her jaw clenching so hard that she’s about to break all her teeth.

“It’s because I’m Dean’s wife.” You shrug.

“What?” The brothers say in unison.

“No way. You’re not his wife. He’s your husband.” Jason clarifies.

“Lucky bastard.” Nick winks. You scoff at the absurd notion that you are more famous than Dean.

“Wow… Let’s move on from the fangirling ok?” Claire scrunches her nose in irritation.

"Now I know how Dean felt when we first met." whisper to her. "But yes, let's get this show on the road." You gesture for her to take the floor, letting her explain the current vampire problem in the area.

_______

“(Y/N)!” Claire yells as a vamp pins her to the floor. She squirms underneath him, her vision blurring as his hands close tighter around her throat. In the blink of an eye his head is gone, blood splattering her in the face.

“Thought you said you could take him?” You grin, offering your hand to her.

“Shut up.” She slaps your hand away, jumping to her feet.

“You ladies move fast!” Nick shouts as he takes out another vamp.

“Looks like it’s a party now.” You announce as the rest of the nest files inside.

“Let’s do this.” Jason grins. One vamp rushes Claire and in one clean swing his head is on the floor. Another rushes you, taking a swing of your pipe to the stomach before getting their head chopped off.

“Pipe!” Claire yells, holding her hand out. You slap it into her palm, unsheathing your machete for another vamp as she takes the head off another. The four of you stand back to back, waiting for another wave or for someone to move.

“You know, this thing is really handy.” She breaks the silence, spinning the pipe in her hand before handing it back to you.

“Winchester original?” Nick asks.

“Saw it in a video game, thought I would give it a try.” You laugh, wiping some of the vamp guts off the knives taped to the top of it.

“We’re fucking awesome.” Claire scoffs as she slowly turns in a circle to look at all the dead vamps..

“Hell ya.” You hold your fist up and she bumps it.

“Where to next?” Jason asks.

“How about food? And sleep?” You grab Claire by the neck and lead everyone out of the barn. “And a shower. The vamps seemed extra bloody today.” You attempt to shake off some of it, but to no avail.

The two boys get in their car and you and Claire climb into hers.

"You ok?" You ask.

"Are you Kidding? We just had the coolest fight." She snorts, leaning against the steering wheel with a grin on her face.

"I meant about the fan club." You correct. "This was meant to be your hunt, not a Winchester spectacle." Not that I ever expected to be a spectacle...

"Kinda why I wanted you here." She mumbles, glancing at your sky high eyebrows. "It proved that I know what I'm doing... and that I have back up." You nod, watching as the trees whip past.

"Prove to who?" You ask, looking down at the dry vamp blood on your thighs. You see her body go rigid, hands firmly gripping the wheel.

"Me..." She answers after a moment. "... Jody."

"We all know you're a great hunter." You say softly. "It's just... not really the life that anyone wants their loved ones to have." You look over at her; she's got a bloody lip and a small scratch across her cheek but she still looks too young to be wanting this life. "But we all understand the choice." You smile at her. She smiles at you, relaxing into her seat as she speeds back to the motel.

_______

“Ya… thanks man.” Jason hangs up the phone, turning to the group. “Looks like we got the main nest. Hunters in the next county found a few stragglers but nothing else.”

Claire and Nick nod, talking about where else they could look. Their voices fade into the background, you mind racing with possible answers as to why-

“(Y/N?).” Claire whispers, gently touching your arm.

“Ya?”

“You ok?” Jason asks, sharing a look with his brother.

“I haven’t heard from Dean–”

“They’re fine.” Claire reassures, standing up from the table.

“It’s been three days… something’s wrong.” You sigh, looking out the window.

“This is why you shouldn’t fall in love. All you end up doing is worrying.” Claire glares.

“Little worry is good.” Jason smiles.

“You don’t worry about anyone?” Nick prods, earning an icy glare.

“I haven’t heard from Cas or Sam either.” Your frown deepens.

“Wait, what?” Claire frowns. Dean tends to be hyper focused on hunting, but all three of them not keeping in touch? Definitely weird. She watches as you stare out the window, your expression flipping between worried and reprimanding yourself. “Maybe they don’t have cell service. Or they jumped in a lake with their phones again.” She shrugs.

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Jason pats your shoulder. “Unfortunately we have to head out.”

“Family calls.” Nick agrees. You quickly exchange info, telling both of them if they need anything to call. You walk them to the door, watching as they drive off in Nick's 1967 Mustang.

“They seemed nice enough.” You shrug, taking a seat next to her on the bed.

“They were.” Claire nods. You wait for her to elaborate, watching as she studies her fingernails.

“So why call for backup?” Claire sighs, slamming her laptop closed and looking at you.

“Jody and Alex bond over helping people in normal ways.” She takes a deep breath in. “And I haven’t had that with anyone except you and Dean.”

“Sounds like you wanted some family-”

“I don’t need a family.” She states, the walls behind her eyes slowly building.

“Maybe not, but you have one.” You point out. “I don’t know what it’s like to be you Claire. But I do know you can’t keep everything inside.” You gently take her hand. “If Sam and Dean show you anything, it's that family can put you through hell, but they can also pull you out.”

Her phone buzzes loudly, you can’t see who’s calling but by the eye roll you have a good guess.

“Jody?”

“Ya. Although she already called in her weekly attempt to make me come back…” She mutters, moving her hand over the ignore button.

“Answer it.” You shout.

“Why? I already know what she-“

“Please.” You whisper. Her big doe eyes study you for a moment, and she answers.

“We’re on our way.” She tells Jody, grabbing her backpack and dragging you with her.

_______

24 hours later

“You ate a lizard?” You scrunch your nose in disgust.

“Not much else over there.” Dean chuckles against your neck.

“Claire should have stayed out here, your PDA would make her sick and she’d be back to herself in no time.” Alex playfully jabs as she grabs all her work stuff.

“Haha.” You give her a small wave as she leaves. When the door clicks shut Dean moves you into his lap, hands caressing your legs.

“Dean…” You half heartedly push his hands away. His finger ghosts over the big bandage on the side of your leg. You helped the girls save him and Sam, managing to limp away with only a gash in your leg.

“Missed you sweetheart.” He mumbles, bringing his lips to yours.

“Missed you too.” You mumble back. He breaks the kiss, keeping his forehead against yours.

“Too close for both of us.” He states.

“Still thinking about you eating lizards.” you poke back.

“I mean it.” He takes a deep breath in, slowly letting his heart beat slow down. “To think about what could have happened.” He wraps his arms tightly around you, burying his face into your hair.

“I would rather not think about it.” You gently rub his back. “Spend too many hours doing that already.” You look out the screen door, watching as Donna, Sam and Jody laugh about something.

“Ugh, Alex was right. You too are gross.” Claire groans from the hall.

“Glad to see it puts your usual attitude back in place.” You chuckle, unraveling from Dean to look at her. She shrugs, plopping into the recliner. “You heading out?” you tentatively ask. Her eyes are puffy, hair scraped back into a ponytail.

“Think I might hang around here for a while… for Jody. And Alex.” She flashes a small smile.

“Good.” Dean nods.

“Embrace your people while they’re here.” You smile at her.

“No good to keep everything inside.” She nods, picking at her nails. The screen door screeches as Sam walks in, taking a seat next to you and Dean.

”Well on a completely unrelated note, I am apparently more famous than you among hunters.” you poke Dean in the chest.

Dean whips his head back so fast he hits the wall behind the couch.

“Nice.” Sam chuckles.

“How?” Dean frowns. You just laugh, shaking your head and giving him a kiss.

“I mean… you are the prettiest Winchester.” Dean chuckles.

“Dean! You can’t say that when Sam is here!” You laugh.

“Ok, you guys are the worst.” Sam shakes his head and walks back outside.

Tag list:

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#weasleywinchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural fic #claire novak #wayward sisters #jody mills #sam winchester #dean winchester x hunter reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus size reader

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 years

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The Scrappy Huntress

Pairings: No romantic pairing. Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, and The Scrappy Huntress. 😉

Summary: The Winchesters might end up with a new member of Team Free Will.

Warnings: None. Only fluff. Figurative and literal fluff. Very brief mentions of blood.

Word Count: 1.5k+

A/N: So, I've been struggling with my mental health a bit lately and I've been having a hard time finding inspiration to write my next chapters for my series.

So, chatting with my daughter, I told her I wanted to write something super fluffy for Dean and she suggested Dean and a kitten, and this idea grew almost immediately, so I wrote it.

Hoping that getting out smaller drabbles like this will kick start inspiration! I'm sorry to those waiting for chapter updates!! They're coming, I promise. ❤️

The beautiful dividers here and below were created by @talesmaniac89 . 💓

Masterlist || Tag Lists

"Just leave it, Sam! If you pay attention to it, it's never gonna go away." Dean scowled down at his giant baby brother, who'd compressed his massive 6'4 frame down into a crouch in order to pet the scrawny kitten that had taken up residence just outside their motel room door.

Sam shook his head and looked up at Dean. "It's been outside since we got here yesterday, Dean. I don't think it's being fed. It's obviously a stray, let me bring him in and give him a bit of food and water."

"No!" Dean said vehemently. "I know you, Sammy. You bring that damn thing in, and before you know it, we'll be putting up lost posters and spending the next week searching for owners."

Sam just let his eyes plead for him and Dean was quickly outdone by a skinny black cat and big puppy dog eyes.

"Ugh!" He growled angrily. "Fine, bring it in, give it some milk, then back out it goes."

Sam scooped up the kitten quickly before Dean could change his mind and walked into their motel room.

"Most cats are lactose intolerant, milk might upset his stomach," he argued.

"How do you know it's a he?" Dean asked as he followed Sam into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Huh." Sam said, contemplating. "I don't actually know."

He turned the kitten upside down to check and the fluffy feline let out several long mewls at the undignified treatment.

"I was wrong, it's a girl." Sam corrected himself. Turning the kitten right side up, he scratched her ears for a moment as compensation for his rude behavior.

"Who's a pretty little girl?" He questioned nonsensically as he nuzzled her soft fur.

Dean rolled his eyes and plopped down on the bed, leaning his shoulders against the headboard, still dressed in his big brown leather coat and boots.

"Feed her and put her back outside so we can get back to figuring out why two perfectly healthy men have dropped dead out of nowhere in this town in the last week. I'd like to finish up and get back to my very comfortable bed."

He slapped his hand down against the lumpy motel mattress aware that he'd gone soft ever since they'd found the bunker a few years ago.

"You know, I was thinking..." Sam began and Dean rolled his eyes.

"No." He answered curtly.

"You don't even know what I was gonna say!" Sam protested.

But Dean was already shaking his head. "I know exactly what you were going to say, and there's absolutely no way we're taking that flea infested thing home with us."

"She's not flea-infested." Sam defended her. "And she could make sure we don't see any more mice scurrying down our hallways."

"No, instead we'd just see a little runt kitten running around that we'd have to feed and take care of. We're not exactly home-bodies, Sam. Who'd look after the thing when we're on the road?" He shook his head again. "We're not taking it home."

Sam pouted slightly. "She's a 'she' not an it."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever. So if SHE can't drink milk, what are you going to feed her with?"

"I'm gonna run over to that little corner store down the street. They probably have cans of cat food." Sam answered as he brought the kitten over to Dean.

Sam tried to pass the kitten to him, but Dean held his hands up, palms out. "No way, I'm not holding that thing, it's gonna pee on me, or scratch the shit outta me."

"SHE is not going to pee on you, and dude, are you telling me you're seriously afraid of the world's tiniest claws? Man, you fight werewolves!" Sam said, incredulously.

Dean frowned and lowered his hands allowing Sam to set the tiny ball of fluff there.

"Yeah, well I shoot werewolves. You telling me I can silver-bullet her if she starts scratching?"

Sam shot him a look and Dean huffed out a sigh. "Kidding, kidding. Sheesh."

"I'll be fifteen minutes, tops. I bet you can keep her from attacking til I'm back." Sam said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Yeah, yeah." Dean said waving his brother out the door.

As the door closed behind Sam, Dean looked over the tiny black cotton ball that he had gripped in his hand.

He adjusted the kitten slightly, not wanting to squeeze too hard. He could feel it's tiny little ribs beneath his fingers, and it's heartbeat slamming fast against them.

Dean's face softened slightly. "Its okay, I won't really shoot you, promise." He said quietly.

He readjusted again so the kitten could sit fully in his palm, and he could hold it in place with his other hand.

"Man, you really are a runty little thing, aren't you?"

The kitten blinked up at him with wide blue eyes. "I thought cats had green eyes." Dean said out loud, unable to stop the compulsion to rub his thumb over the cat's tiny head.

As he did, a sudden rumbling purr started up and when Dean petted her again, the kitten chased his thumb, rubbing up against it and then nibbling on the end.

Dean snorted with humor as she rolled onto her back in his hand, batting at his fingers with all four feet.

"Ooh, you're a scrapper." He moved his fingers forward to pet her black and white speckled belly and chuckled in spite of himself as she spread her four paws wide before closing them tight around his hand and "attacking".

He ferocious bites turned quickly into licks, her rough tongue scraping across his callused fingers. She let him pet her belly for real, and soon she was purring very loudly and falling asleep on her back, outstretched in his hand.

Dean continued to stroke her belly and found himself relaxing deeply as he listened to the, soothing rumble coming out of the tiny little creature.

He held her like that until Sam came back with the cat food and woke her up so she could eat and drink.

The brothers chuckled together as the kitten scarfed the wet food, emitting endless "threatening" growls while she ate.

When she was finished, Dean merely rolled his eyes as Sam pulled out the small tray and bag of litter he'd bought, "just in case" Dean agreed to let the kitten stay in the room over night.

"It looks like it's gonna rain, she'll drown out there." Sam reasoned. "Look, we'll keep her safe tonight and then bring her to an animal shelter tomorrow, okay?"

Dean was still frowning, although both of them knew he was going to let the kitten stay.

"Fine." He said with a sigh.

They spent a couple hours working on the case. They thought maybe they were hunting down a crossroads demon, collecting early on demon deals, but they needed more info. They just knew both victims had been newly wealthy and died very suddenly under strange circumstances.

As they looked things over, they were occasionally distracted by the little furball tearing around the room, attacking their shoelaces and puffing up to hiss at the "other cat" in the floor length mirror that hung on the outside of the bathroom door.

Despite his reluctance to encourage his brother, Dean couldn't help but laugh when the kitten's fur stood on end, and she arched her back, jumping sideways and then bouncing around on her back legs.

Finally deciding to call it a night, the boys took their turns in the bathroom getting ready for bed. Dean called dibs and bounded in there before Sam could complain that two grown men shouldn't be relying on dibs to decide things.

When it was Sam's turn he decided to jump in the shower, taking a bit longer, since there was no one waiting on him. Going second had its perks.

When he finally came out, clicking the bathroom light off, he chuckled softly to himself at the picture in front of him.

Dean was sprawled out on his stomach, lightly snoring. One knee was bent, and his arms were wrapped around the pillow he was laying his head on. Curled up in the crook of his elbow, the little kitten was fast asleep as well, no doubt enjoying the warmth of the soft breaths Dean was emitting.

Sam shook his head. He knew Dean would cave, they were definitely taking that little fluff ball home with them.

***

Hours later Dean woke up to the sound of loud scratching and he moaned and buried his face further into his pillow.

"Sam, make that stupid cat stop scratching!" He mumbled out sleepily to his brother. There was no response and the scratching continued.

Finally he sat up, angrily turning to Sam, planning on waking him from his comfortable sleep and forcing him to deal with the misbehaving kitten.

But as he looked over at his brother's bed, his blood ran cold. Sam lay, seemingly paralyzed, his eyes the only part of him that was moving, shooting around the room, panic-stricken while blood seeped from his nose and mouth.

"Sammy!" Dean cried out as he leapt from his bed. He grabbed his brother by the shoulders and shook him uselessly before jumping up, throwing on the lights and starting to search for a hex bag; this had to be witchcraft.

As he started looking through all the cupboards and under the bed, he began to feel himself stumble. It felt as though all his muscles were stiffening up and he crashed to the floor, the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth.

He looked over to where the kitten was still scratching at the cheap wood paneling in the room. He tried to pull himself over, but he felt his arms become wooden and he couldn't move.

All he could do was watch as the kitten scratched a hole in the worn paneling, and batted at something inside. With a growing sense of disbelief, Dean blinked slowly as she snagged her claw in the top of a hex bag and then tossed it into the air as she shook it free of her claw.

She then pounced on it, batting it back and forth. Finally she attacked it fully, wrapping it up in her paws and kicking it hard with her back feet.

As she gave a particularly hard kick, the bag tore open and the contents spilled out.

Suddenly the sensation zoomed back into Dean's arms and legs and he coughed up and spit out the last of the blood that was in his mouth. He crawled quickly to the hole and pulled out a second hex bag, whipping out his lighter and burning it. He stood up and tossed the burning pouch into the bathroom sink as he heard Sam coughing and shifting around in his bed.

Dean leaned against the bathroom doorframe, sagging slightly, his muscles still a bit weak.

"You good, Sammy?"

Sam nodded and gave a thumbs up.

Dean wiped away the blood that had dribbled down his chin, watching as the kitten batted at some of the bones that had spilled out of the hex bag, seemingly disappointed that her fun toy had popped.

He shook his head and turned to Sam with a grin. "Told you taking that kitten in was a good idea."

***

Late the next night, they were getting ready to head out. They'd dispatched a mother-daughter witch team that had been grifting rich guys and taking all their money before slipping them a hex bag and a slow death. Apparently they'd figured out there were hunters in town and decided to do away with them the same way.

As they packed up the room, Sam scooped up the kitten. They'd been too busy all day to get her to a shelter, so she'd just stayed in the room and had seemed to make herself very at home.

Sam set her down on Dean's bed and she bounced over to his green duffle bag and climbed inside. As Dean turned back to shove in another pair of jeans, she circled around two or three times before snuggling into one of his plaid flannels, half tucking herself into the pocket.

Dean let out a sigh and carefully tucked the jeans in beside her.

"So..." Sam prompted. "Shelter?"

Dean shot him an unimpressed look. "You know I'm not sending the cat that saved our lives to a..." he lowered his voice to a whisper, "...an uncertain future."

He let out a put upon sigh. "Nah, this scrappy little huntress is just coming home with us I guess."

Sam beamed. "But what about when we're away?"

Dean shrugged into his leather jacket and carefully picked up the sleeping kitten before he answered.

"Well, who knows, maybe she'll like car rides. I'll make her cozy and see what she thinks." With that he tucked her into one of the upper, inside pockets of his thick jacket.

She let out a small mewl. "Whatcha think, Huntress?" Dean asked, petting her head and smiling as she yawned and then nibbled his finger.

"She says she's a badass panther, and she's good."

Sam chuckled. "Does she?"

Dean nodded as he shouldered his duffle bag, careful not to jostle the sleeping kitten in his pocket.

"Yep, and when we can't take her with us, Cas can cat-sit."

1. Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays.

@lyarr24

@siospins2

@impalaslytherin

@akshi8278

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@nt-multi-fandom

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2. Dean Winchester Fics Only.

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3. Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.)

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4. Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well)

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#dean winchester #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #sam winchester

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samcybercat · 1 year

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Supernatural Characters That I Liked :D

On 2nd April 2023, we finished watching all 15 seasons of Supernatural. My history with this show is that I didn't really know it was a thing while it was popular and then by the time I joined Tumblr it was "that series people on Tumblr like that I don't think would be for me". Up until late 2021, the only things from Supernatural that I'd seen were the Destiel Confession (TM), a short scene of Dean telling Sam & Jack that Castiel was dead and the montage of Sam dying from the final episode. Beyond that, I genuinely knew nothing about the show But in 2021 (I think?) my housemates and I had finished BBC Merlin and were looking for a new long series to try, which ended up being Supernatural. Our set-up was that Gemba had seen up to Season 12 (and thus had to endure us asking many questions about it), but Amber and I had never seen any of it Now, no one needs me to review Supernatural. Enough other people who know more about it than I do have done that. But it's been a long ride and I wanted to do something to celebrate it. So instead of picking apart the good and the bad, I thought I'd simply make a list of the characters I like. This is not an all-inclusive list, as in over 15 seasons there are bound to be a few fun one-off characters who I'll forget. But I tried to include as many characters as possible Starting off with my beloved - everyone's favourite Supernatural character whose name begins with the letter C...

...Crowley! (Don't worry, Castiel is also on the list lol)

I cannot understate how much Crowley kept me going with this show. We'd just come off the back of the Trickster dying and I was bummed about that, but then Crowley came along with all his yelling and his bisexual villainy and I was won over immediately. Everything about Mark Sheppard's performance was a delight and all his interactions with the rest of the main cast were so fun. When Crowley ended up on the path from enemy to frenemy to begrudging ally, it never felt like character-derailment at all. Though having said that, I also fully understand and respect Sheppard's choice to leave because he was disappointed with how Crowley was being written - as much as it was a big miss for me to see Crowley go. Crowley is my blorbo for this show He is also incredibly shippable with Sam

Next up is Sam, Mr. Skrunkly Himself and the greatest shipping bicycle I could ask for Now, some of you who I have talked to about Supernatural might remember me saying that I didn't like Sam, which certainly was true in the earlier seasons. I just feel like in the beginning, Sam's stick-in-the-mud attitude needed a bit longer to bake until he became the absolutely endearing, doe-eyed giant that he would become later on. I also think that Sam becoming a better character ended up lining up quite well with Dean becoming... less of a characters that I could enjoy, so that worked out nicely. I'm sorry that I was a non-believer to start with, Sammy, but I'm 100% a Sam Girl now lol

You're on tumblr, you know who this is I now definitely understand why this website was so obsessed with Castiel. What could've easily been a throw-away character was turned into a series main-stay and I'm sure that a large part of that was due to the clear love that Misha Collins had for the character and poured into his performance. Every time Castiel was around it was always great and, like a lot of people, my biggest problem with Castiel was that they didn't use him enough. They (probably accidentally) wrote one of the best autistic characters I've seen in a while and also, his Dadstiel scenes with Claire and Jack are one of the few times I've really enjoyed seeing a character take on the role of a parent Castiel is also incredibly shippable with Sam (sorry Destiel shippers, I'm Sastiel through and through)

Queen of my heart, Rowena! The treatment of female characters in Supernatural is another topic with not a great reputation, but you've got to believe me when I say that Rowena is a brilliant character, one of the best and most-fun female villains. When she was introduced as Crowley's mum, I knew we were in for a great ride and, sure enough, every episode she was in was charming. Ruth Connell really ran with the concept of "vengeful Scottish witch". My fears for Rowena had been that she would be killed off shortly after Crowley's departure, but I was delighted to see that she continued to be a main-stay for most of the show, ending with her destined death scene with Sam, before being triumphantly crowned Queen of Hell Rowena is also incredibly shippable with Sam, though I've also gotta give a shout-out to my short-lived OTP of Rowena x Gabriel

Speaking of Gabriel, the Trickster was definitely what kept me watching at the start of the series. In the beginning, Supernatural was a bit dry for my taste and he injected that shot of fun into it that it needed to keep me interested. His episodes were few and far between, but just knowing there might be a Trickster episode on the horizon always kept me going until Crowley came along to take the mantle from him. I was glad to see Gabriel return later on, even if I feel like they didn't really use him or play to his strengths quite as much as they did in the early episodes The Trickster is also incredibly shippable with Sam

The best baby boy, Jack! On paper, the concept of Lucifer's son joining the team felt like a desperate attempt by the writers to show a new, younger audience that they were still hip and relevant, but that ended up not being the case. From the moment Jack appeared, he was wonderful, bringing the same energy as Castiel, but with that child-like optimism attached that would lead to him ultimately saving the day and making a better world for everyone. Seeing the trio raising a son was also brilliant and actually the perfect kind of fanfic-fodder the show needed. My biggest regret for Jack is that he came along after most people stopped caring about the show, so he didn't receive the appreciation I think he deserved

I actually feel bad that it's taken me so long to get to Bobby, as he's one of my big faves, but in my defence he wasn't in the later seasons very much. Bobby went from being "Guy who tells the brothers where the monster of the week is" to the actual perfect father-figure they deserved. There was a reason why when Dean gets to heaven it was Bobby waiting for him and not John, and it wasn't just because getting Neegan back was probably expensive. Bobby is another underrated autistic icon imo and excellent boyfriend-material for Crowley. Even though I was sad when his time on the show was cut short, he was one of the few characters who I felt was given the right amount of fanfare for his send-off

Ketch! I love Ketch! He's our fave in this house. After the very dull Darkness season, I had my hopes low and was rolling my eyes when the British Men of Letters were introduced, but then they ended up being so cringe that it cycled back around to being funny again. We would cheer every time Ketch appeared

Yes, I like Bela and think she was fun in her appearances, you're all just mean about her :(

This version of Meg specifically was wonderful and top-tier shippable with Castiel. It's no wonder that she was the one they called back to play The Empty all those years later. Meg's flirty banter was the perfect foil for Castiel's serious cluelessness and I would always look forward to scenes with both of them

I'm gonna be real with you: most of the season-long villains were very hit or miss for me, but Zachariah was one villain who I thought was excellent. It's a shame he was so early on, so I don't remember too much about his specifically, but I do remember enjoying him and how powerful he made the angels feel

Pamela or, as she was known in our house for a long time, The Woman Who Was Fine About Everything. When Pamela first appears she's like "Two brother? Awesome, let's have a threesome!" ...Then she gets her eyes blasted out. When we next see her, Pamela is totally cool with being blind and is even using it to help her work. ...Then she gets killed off. But when we next see her in the afterlife, wouldn't you know it, she's totally cool with being dead. Even when she later appears as a figment of Dean's imagination, she's fine with that, too. So here's to you, Pamela. Wherever you are, I know you're totally cool with it!

Kevin Tran and his mum. These two characters are the absolute example of deserving much better from the writing, especially Kevin. At least his mum got some cool scenes when she tried to rescue him, but poor Kevin was basically the Wincester's hostage who then died to give Dean more man pain. Which is a shame, because Kevin was great and I really wish we'd been given more fun scenes with him

Hannah (Agent Stone version) ...Look, it's Lee Majdoub, the guy who plays Agent Stone in the Sonic Movies! Turns out he had a brief role in Supernatural as one of Hannah's vessels. I wish he'd stuck around, but as a big Sonic fan I'm glad he moved onto other things :')

Claire Novak - I never expected the kid from Castiel's vessel's old life to come back as a full character later on, but Claire filled the role of the vengeful daughter who grew to respect Castiel so well and I definitely wish we'd seen more of both Claire and her short-lived relationship with Kaia. I also had the exact same Grumpy Cat plushie that Castiel gave to Claire, so I was very endeared by that

Both the original Death and Billie who came after him were excellent! Both very different and strong personalities who filled every scene they were in - when these two appeared, you really knew Dean had to sit up and pay attention, because shit was about to get real

Another one of my top faves, Eileen! Imagine my surprise when Supernatural of all series introduces one of the very few portrayals of a deaf character I've seen and she ends up becoming a recurring character and love interest to one of the main characters. Eileen was annoyingly killed off-screen, but then they made up for it by having Sam go to such lengths to bring her back. She had an adorable relationship with Sam. ...Then they killed her off again and left us to only assume that she must've been returned to life by Jack, but never actually showed that. Oh well, I will choose to believe that the blurry woman they showed with Sam in his montage in the last episode was Eileen and they got the happy ending they deserved

Rufus went from having a somewhat subdued first appearance to being Bobby's partner in crime and that was when he really shined. Another character who was killed off far too early, wasting his potential, but I enjoyed the few Bobby & Rufus episodes that we did get

Garth was just a nice guy and I wanted good things for him. After his short, but successful, role as The New Bobby, I'm glad that Garth was able to retire and live with his werewolf family without becoming yet another victim of characters dying by association with the Winchesters

Becky went from being a very fun nod-to-the-fandom character to having that... one very uncomfortable episode with Sam... to disappearing for a long time and finally coming back to be shown living her best life with her family and thriving. Screw Chuck for killing her off, but I choose to believe that she came back

Crowley having a son who was brought to modern day from ye olde Scotland and then let loose into a park somewhere will never not be funny to me. I liked Gavin for the few episodes he was in

...And I'm bored of looking for screenshots now, so I'll cap this off by also giving a shout-out to fan-fave, Charlie, who they once again killed off before they should've done but at least had some good episodes, Balthazar, who was the idea friend for Castiel and gave me big Dionysus Hades Game vibes, Metatron, who really grew on my from his initial introduction as villain to reluctant frenemy, and to Chuck, who was a character who really annoyed me for most of the series, but then once they started playing him as a straight up villain it felt like he was the perfect way to sing the series out. Amara also got a lot better in later seasons from her unfortunate first appearance and it was a shame about her hand-wave ending I have mixed feelings about Dean. Goodnight

#Supernatural #spn crowley #Sam Winchester #Castiel #Rowena Macleod #not gonna tag anyone else #these also aren't in order of faves btw #just what i'd remember as i was writing

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kippykasey · 1 year

Text

Thankful for You

Summary: Bucky Barnes has Thanksgiving at the Wilson's, where he shares how thankful he is for Sugar and their her son, Sammy James (SJ).

Word Count: 1246

Pairing: Reader(Sugar) x Bucky Barnes

A/N: This is the 3 part of a small series that I keep adding onto. The first was Dog Tags, followed by Trick or Treat. At this time I do have one more fic already planned for this mini series that will come out near Christmas!

Totally imagining Bucky taking apart of no shave November

Bucky never thought that he would be in such a domestic situation after everything he has been through. Yet here he was, standing on the back porch of the Wilson’s watching his girlfriend’s son SJ running around playing with Sam’s nephews Cas and AJ in the backyard while his mother was inside with Sarah cooking their Thanksgiving meal.

Sam stepped up next to the super soldier handing him one of the two beers he was holding. Bucky took the bottle from his friend, his eyes moving back to carefully watch the smaller boy. “You don’t have to watch him like a hawk, he isn’t going anywhere.” The dark skinned man next to him chuckled leaning against the railing facing towards the back door where he could catch glimpses of his sister and you inside.

Buck glanced down at the bottle he spun between his hands as it rests on the railing in front of him. “Logically I know that. I just… the squirt means alot to me.” His eyes drift down to his vibranium hand that has not been covered since the day they went trick or treating. There was a slight jingle from his left that drew his attention to the small boy running up to him. Instinctively he lowered to a crouch in front of the young child. “What’s up, squirt?”

Sammy was frowning as he held out his hand. “It broke. Can you fix it?” Bucky held his hand out, his left metal one, to take what SJ was holding. Looking into his hand the older man was able to see that it was his dog tags. The old chain had simply snapped. “It just needs a new chain. We can fix it when we get home. Do you want me to hold onto it until then?” SJ nods his head quickly.

Sammy watched Bucky tuck the broken chain and two metal ID tags into his pants pocket before he ran back to continue playing with the older boys. Buck stood and moved to grab the bottle of beer to take a sip. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the sly smirk-like-smile that Sam wore when he noticed something that interests him.

“You seem more comfortable with your arm lately.” Sam comments trying to be as casual as possible as he mentioned it. Barnes rolled his eyes as he poured some of the beer into his mouth.

Bucky opened his mouth to make a snarky remark that he should mind his business when the back door opened. There you stood, a smile on your face. “Hey sugar,” he greets you. You step over towards him as you pull your cardigan closed around you to block out the chilly wind. “Hey. Dinner is almost ready. Can you get the boys to come in and wash up? SJ might need some help reaching the sink.”

“I got it. Get back inside before you catch a cold.” Buck gave you a gentle nudge towards the house, which you followed his instructions and headed back inside. Sam and Bucky called the three boys in to wash up. Buck followed Sammy helping him with his jacket, the zipper kept getting stuck, before he helped the boy wash up for dinner.

🦃🦃🦃🦃🦃🦃🦃🦃🦃🦃

The Wilson’s had a tradition in their family on Thanksgiving. After everyone had finished eating, while waiting for their stomachs to settle enough for room for dessert, they would go around the room and list what they were thankful for that year. Usually it went youngest to oldest, but given it was yours and SJ’s first time at a Wilson Thanksgiving Sarah had Cass and AJ go first. After they finished your son practically jumped out of his seat as he begged to go next. Sammy fidgets in his seat as he looks between you and Bucky.

“I’m thankful that I get to see Bucky all the time because he’s my hero and he makes mom really happy. And he let me talk to Spider-Man!” SJ smiled and his statement made your eyes water as you looked over at Bucky who had one of the widest smiles on his face. His eyes were shining as he looked down at your son with so much love that it made you all warm inside.

SJ leans over to whisper to Bucky, even going so far as to cover his mouth. Buck listened and his smile faltered just the smallest bit and for a second there was something visible in his eyes. Panic? Bucky nods his head, which must have been some kind of permission because SJ got up and ran towards the coat rack in the other room. He came back holding something behind his back that he secretly passed to his hero.

“Do you want to go first, Sugar?” Buck asked, looking over at you. You shook your head, “No, go ahead.”

Bucky clears his throat and looks down at SJ who gave him a double thumbs up. His blue eyes glanced over at Sam who gave the slightest head nod. Buck rose to his feet and moved behind where you and SJ were sitting, a nervous habit you had noticed. “This. I am thankful for this. I am thankful for my sugar, she has been a huge support and comfort to me. She helps me even if I’m being a.. uh.. “ He paused, glancing at the kids. “Dodo?” You supplied which was your pg way of calling him a ‘fucking moron’. Buck smiles and nods his head.

“I am thankful for SJ for believing in me and being the best partner I could ever have.” SJ grins and stands up on his chair. “Aaaand?!” The child was clearly excited which made you smile.

“And I am thankful for every moment I share with both of you. In fact, sugar, if you would let me. I would like to be with you until the end of the line.” Bucky Barnes lowered himself down to one knee at your side. Perfectly displayed in the shiny palm of his metal hand was a red velvet box holding the sparkling engagement ring inside.

You gasp looking between the ring and the bright blue eyes in front of you. “James…” You muttered awestruck. “Mommy, this is the part where you say yes.” SJ ‘whispered’ loudly as he tapped your shoulder. You look back at your grinning son before turned back towards Bucky. “I wouldn’t want anyone else with me. I’m thankful to have such a wonderful man in my life to love me and be a father figure for my son.” You say leaning over to press a quick kiss to Bucky’s lips. Bucky smiles against your lips before you both parted and he was able to slid the band onto your finger.

Sarah instantly reached over to coo over the ring. “It’s beautiful.”

“SJ picked it out.” Sam mentions making you gasp and look at your son. The small boy giggles and looks over at Bucky who gave the boy a proud smile. “He was a perfect partner.” Buck adds.

You smiled and looked over at Bucky again and he leaned over to kiss your head before picking SJ up so he could take the spot next to you with the boy now sitting in his lap. Your hand, now adorned with the sparkle of a certain ring entwined with his as you held hands listening as Sam went on to mention what he was thankful for.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x sugar #dad!bucky vibes #Thanksgiving fic #holdiay

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greta-van-fics · 3 years

Text

Skin to Skin - Sam Kiszka

Warnings: S M U T (18+), unprotected sex, swearing

a/n: I almost evaporated writing this, bring your holy water 😈

requested by @florenceivy

tag list: @godlygreta @serenitysammy @stardustschords @kk223478 @tellmama-allaboutit

You and Sammy had just gotten home from a busy day out running errands. It was one of the rare days you both had off, and you just wanted to spend time together, no matter what you were doing. You sit a handful of grocery bags down on the counter, starting to take them out as Sam comes in with a few more, standing across the kitchen island as he starts to take things out and put them away, humming to himself as he does this. When he finishes, he places his hands on the countertop, leaning on it and watching you. You had worn a flowy sundress that day, and he just couldn't help but stare at you in it. You turn around, finding him looking you up and down, giggling a little. "You like what you see?" You chuckle, holding the sides of the skirt in your hands and twirling around for him. He nods, smiling back at you. "I do, something about you in those dresses." He says and comes around the island to stand in front of you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you close to him. You run your hands over his exposed chest, most of the buttons of his shirt undone as usual. "Drives me wild." He continues, biting his lip and moving one hand around to squeeze your ass. You snake your hands up, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Maybe that's why I wear them." You say, raising your eyebrows a little. Sammy just shakes his head with a smile, leaning in to kiss you, softly at first, but quickly deepening it, causing you to hum against his lips.

He then lifts you up onto the counter, standing between your legs and running his hands up your thighs, pulling away from the kiss just enough to speak. "You know how hard it was to walk behind you in that dress and not do anything? Your ass looks so good in it."He says, moving his hands around to rest on it. "Well, why don't you take it off then?" You say, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way and running your hands over his shoulders to push it down. He moves his arms so it will fall off, stepping back and lifting the hem of your dress, gathering it up to the hips and then pulling it off of you, he then wraps his arms around you again, lifting you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold on, and he carries you to the bedroom, laying you on the bed and getting his pants off before crawling up on top of you. He then leans down and begins kissing over your neck, sucking in some spots as he moves down between your breasts, then down your stomach before finding a spot between your legs. "And these little panties too? Are you trying to ruin me?" He says, smirking and hooking his fingers in the legs of them before pulling them off and tossing them away, watching as you spread your legs for him. He leans in to kiss over one of your inner thighs, each kiss lingering for a moment, it seemed like he was moving achingly slow. You lift your head up to watch him as he leans in and presses a kiss to your slit before diving deeper and licking over your clit, causing you to let out a soft moan.

He sucks onto the bud for a moment before pulling away and starting to kitten lick at it, closing his eyes as he does this. Sam always got so into eating you out, he was such a giver when it came to sex. He flicks his tongue over your clit a few times before sucking onto it again, bringing two fingers up and slipping them into you and beginning to move them, going between sucking and licking at your clit. You lay your head back and moan, unable to keep them open at this point. It always felt so good. You reach down and lace your fingers in his hair, tugging at it as you feel yourself get closer to your high. He begins to curl his fingers as he feels you clench around them, opening his eyes again. He always loved to watch as you came, the way you moaned and your body reacted to him was mesmerizing. You finally let go, tugging his face closer to your heat and arching your back, letting out a loud, whiny moan as your orgasm finally washes over you. He moves his fingers for a few moments to work you through it, smirking as you let go of his hair and he pulls away.

He pulls his fingers out, crawling back up over you. "Holy fuck, babe." You say, you could feel his hard cock pressed against your inner thigh. "You taste so good, princess." He says, involuntarily grinding against your thigh. He kisses you again, deeply this time so you could taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands go back to his hair, the kiss full of passion. This lasts for a few moments before you pull away, Sam beginning to move off of you to grab a condom, but you tighten your grip on him. "No, I don't want to use one." You say and he raises his eyebrows. "You don't want me to put a condom on?" He asks. "No, I wanna feel you, Sammy." you say, stroking his hair. He smirks a bit and relaxes against you again. "You want me to cum inside you?" He asks, the smirk never leaving his lips. You nod, blushing a little but keeping eye contact with him. "Fuck, that's so hot." he says, and you felt his cock twitch against your thigh. He then moves his hand down to stroke it a few times before lining himself up with your entrance, pushing in slowly. He closes his eyes and lets out a groan as his hips meet yours, mumbling a soft "damn" before opening his eyes to look at you again. He instantly knew he would be addicted to feeling you around him, bare, with nothing in the way. He then begins to thrust at a steady pace, propping up with his hands on either side of you. "That feels so good." you say, a whimper following your words. "God, yeah. Feels so good. I love fucking you like this, nothing in the way." He says, his hair falling down into his face.

You bend your legs up around him, the new angle allowing him to bury deeper inside you as he speeds up, his jaw dropping. "Just like that!" You moan out. "I'm gonna cum so fucking hard. You want it, baby?" He asks, letting out a moan himself, the sound was music to your ears. "Yes, I do, so bad, please fill me up." You say and he groans, lifting up and hooking his arms behind your knees to hold your legs up. "Please, cum for me Sam, I need it." You beg, lifting your arms to grip the pillow behind your head. "I'm so fucking close, you gonna cum for me too, princess?" He says, his thrusts a bit rougher now from hearing all the dirty talk, something he loved. You nod quickly. "Don't stop!" You say, laying your head back and closing your eyes, your jaw dropping as you finally reach your climax, whimpering and moaning beneath him. This sends Sam over the edge, his hips stuttering and furrowing his eyebrows as he cums inside you, his cock twitching as he fills you. He lets his head fall out, letting out a shaky moan and bucking his hips one more time. You lift your head to look at him, his skin glistening with sweat. He lets your legs down, pulling out of you and licking his lips at the sight of how his cum spilled out of you. "Holy shit, we're never using a condom again." He says and crawls up next to you, placing his hand on your waist and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Good, I never liked them anyways." You say, placing your hand on his upper arm and giving it a squeeze. "Me either." he says.

#sam kiszka #by sam #about sam 😂#greta van fleet #greta van fleet smut #sam kiszka smut #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner

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almanacrat · 2 years

Text

Night and Day

Sammy Kiszka x femReader

Warnings: none

Y/n wished she was able to stay home from school as she twiddled her thumbs at her desk. The repetition of walking through the linoleum halls, putting her lunch in her locker, then passing the same patch of chipped paint on the wall was beginning to bug her. It was senior year, and though Y/n knew that senioritis was completely expected, she felt that she was more eager to run away than others may be.

Y/n felt so contained at school. All her potential was getting ready to burn out, and she didn't have many friends. Y/n’s best friend, Paige, moved to Kentucky last year, and it wasn't the same without her. Now Y/n would eat lunch in the hallways, distracting herself by working on her homework or texting Paige. Y/n reminisced on the days where she and Paige would go roller skating after school, laughing as they skated round. Y/n still loved to skate, but it was lonely without Paige. Y/n missed the way Paige would come to the football games just to watch her cheer, even though she knew Y/n hated cheer.

“Hey, do you have the answer to number three?” Someone spoke to Y/n, bringing her back into reality.

The boys who asked the question sat in front of her, it was Sam Kiszka. He had fluffy brown hair which looked like it was trying to be grown out.

“Yeah. Holden looks at the world in such a bleak way because of Allie’s death.” Y/n supplies the answer.

“Thanks.” Sam turned back around, scribbling the answer down while his friend sitting next to him copies his paper.

The two whisper back and forth before the boy turns around again, asking “Do you have number four and five?”

“Here.” Y/n handed him her paper, eager to start reading her book. The interaction with the stranger making her anxious.

“You finished already?”

“Yeah, I finished a while ago.”

“Damn. Hey, how come I don't know you?”

“Because you haven't talked to me before.” Her words made him laugh, but Y/n refused to make eye contact, focusing her gaze to the book on her desk.

“Watcha reading?” Sam asked, but before Y/n could respond he picked it up off her desk and examined it. “Dracula. An exceptional choice.”

“You've read it?” Y/n wondered doubtfully, assuming Sam Kiszka would never touch a book on his own time, much less one that was roughly 600 pages long.

“Nope, but I've seen the movie.” Sam continued to examine the book, flipping through the pages as his friend, Danny, watched in amusement.

“Cool, now can I have it back?” Y/n reached for the book.

“Hold on, I’m still reading.” He pushed her hand away.

“You’re not reading, you’re just looking at it!” Y/n began to get frustrated, her day already being interrupted by his shenanigans.

“No, I’m reading it!” Sam smirked as she got upset.

“Y/n and Sam, this was silent working time. You two have disrupted the class, and for that I will see you in detention this Friday.” Mr. Ramirez scolded from the front of the classroom.

Y/n’s jaw dropped. She had never gotten detention before. The whole incident didn't even seem like her fault to her. Sam turned around and smirked before facing front and continuing to whisper to Danny.

This was going to be one hell of a detention.

This is a short chapter, I know, but it’s the beginning to a new series. Comment if you want to be added to the tag list :)

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holylulusworld · 3 years

Text

Single Parent

Title: Single parent

Square Filled: Relationship break-up

Ship: Mobster!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Benny LaFitte

Rating: Mature

Summary: Your arranged bond with Dean grows fruits but you can’t be happy as you should.

Warnings: angst, language, arranged marriage, unrequited feelings, sad reader, abandonment, Dean being a douche, giving birth (no description), shitty relationship, pregnant reader

A/N: I already outlined the story before I got the request. I changed the ending and a few scenes to make it fit.

Word Count: 3.5 k

Written/Created for: @spnmixedbingo

Divider by @firefly-graphics

2021 SPN Mixed BINGO Masterlist

Now…

“No John, I’m done,” you cry, running your hand over your baby bump. “You could force me to marry your son, to stay with him and have his heir,” you sniff, looking around the guest room you chose over your comfortable bedroom. “But you can’t force me to play the obedient housewife. I tried, John—I really tried but Dean doesn’t even like me.”

“He’s just a little stubborn and rough on the outside like me, doll,” John tries to reason with you. “Show him the latest ultrasound and he’ll change.”

“No, he won’t,” voice bitter you sit on the bed, shaking your head lightly. “That’s the problem. I-I’m nothing more than a breeder to your son. I know he doesn’t reciprocate my feelings, but I had hoped he’ll be kinder to me when he sees me swollen with his child. I know he cares for the baby, but sadly I’m not sure it’s because he loves them or as you want an heir.”

“Y/N,” sitting next to you John watches you tear up. Months of rejection and coldness took a toll on you. “I didn’t know it’s that bad.”

“He told Sam I’m nothing but a vessel for his child, John. I could be dead, and he wouldn’t care,” choking out a sob you give John a sad smile. “Did you know he never came to the doctor with me? He never showed and my gynecologist believes I am a single parent – and maybe I am.”

“What happened last week? Why did you suddenly move out of your shared bedroom, doll? Did Dean hurt you?”

“Not physically-“ you huff, looking at the wedding band around your finger. “I was at my doctor’s practice for the next check-up, as usual, Dean didn’t show, even though, he promised to be there,” sniffling you take the wedding band off, dropping it onto the bed, not wanting to feel it on your skin right now.

“We had a meeting, I’m sorry for keeping Dean away from you,” John lies, you can see it in his eyes and his voice is a little too low. He doesn’t realize you know him too well to not see through his lies. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt you, Y/N.”

“I saw all those happy couples and excited dad’s pacing around the waiting room and realized, Dean gives a shit on me and his child. I can’t leave, but at the same time I won’t pretend Dean is not the cold-hearted man he is,” sadly you can’t hide you are still in love with his son, but your try your hardest.

“What happened, Y/N? I heard you fought with your husband. Did he hurt you?” John presses. “I need to know…”

“You really want to know? Fine, I’ll tell you everything happening that day-“

One week earlier…

“Mrs. Winchester,” the nurse chirps, leading you into the room. “Where’s your husband? Didn’t he want to join us today?”

“He wanted but as always, business comes first,” you grumble, handing the young woman a business card. “That’s my brothers-in-law’s number. If I ever need help, please call him.”

“What about your husband?” confused the nurse looks at you, blinking a few times before she recognizes your teary eyes. “Ah, got it. I will call Sam Winchester if it’s necessary. We will add it to your medical record.”

“Thank you,” giving the nurse a sad smile you try to push the tears away. “As I said, my husband is always busy, and Sam offered his help. If not, call the second number, that’s my father-in-law.”

“No problem, Mrs. Winchester. Now let’s turn our attention toward your baby. Are you excited to find out about the gender?” nodding you swallow the lump in your throat, hiding you wished Dean would’ve come to find out with you.

“All done, Cher?” watching you walk out of the practice, a soft smile on his lips Benny offers his hand to you. “So, did they tell you the gender today?”

“It’s a boy,” you choke out, done fighting the tears. “You’re the first one I told, Benny-“ ignoring people watch you cry outside of your doctor’s practice you hide your face in Benny’s chest.

“He should’ve been here, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

“Everyone is always sorry; everyone but Dean,” angrily fisting Benny’s jacket you look up at your bodyguard. “I’m done trying, Benny. This is ridiculous. He’s not interested in me or the baby.”

“Dean cares about the baby, Cher,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “It’s true.”

“Dean only cares about my son as he needs an heir. There is no love in him. I-I wanted to share this with him. Dean, he should’ve been here with me, experience every step but he refuses to even give me that. My first pregnancy should’ve been something special but now, it only makes me sad.”

“How’s the baby?” Dean asks, awaiting your report as usual.

“Still alive. Benny got the ultrasound if you want to see them. If you want to know about the gender, ask your friend too,” you quip, walking toward the walk-in-wardrobe to get your favorite pajamas, you ignore Dean follows you. “Unlike other people he was there.”

“I had a meeting, Y/N,” arguing Dean watches you gather more clothes, frowning as you didn’t jump on him to tell him every single detail about your appointment.

Usually, you would excitedly tell him about the baby, forcing him to look at the ultrasound picture and demand his attention. Today, you barely said two words, not even tried to talk to him.

“A meeting, sex with one of your girls – I don’t care Dean. I’m tired of this, of you. To give you the space you need, I’ll go and have lunch with Charlie. Don’t wait for me–“ you chuckle, humorlessly. “Ah, yeah I forgot. You wouldn’t care if I never return.” walking out of the room, leaving a speechless Dean behind, you slam the door shut, making him flinch.

“Benny, my wife is gone; just like all of her belongings, we need to find her! She’s pregnant with my child.”

“You only care about the baby, huh? Do you even know it’s a boy, Dean?” Benny sneers, placing the ultrasound picture into Dean’s hand. “Y/N is not gone, she simply moved into the guestroom next to John’s room. I helped her while you were out, doing god knows.”

“Wait – she moved into the guestroom? Why?”

“Seriously, Dean? You promised to be there, at least to get to know about the gender, and yet, you didn’t come to the practice. I think Y/N gave up trying,” huffing Dean watches you step out of the guestroom, ignoring he glares at you.

“Y/N, you can’t just move out of our bedroom!” muttering the words Dean watches you walk past him.

“Oh, you meant me. I thought I’m only a vessel, a breeder to carry your heir,” whipping your head toward Dean you give him a cold glare. Your heart races and you can feel fresh tears well-up to your eyes, but you need to get this out before you can return to your room and cry some more.

“I’m talking to you, Y/N. What if you go into labor and I’m not close by?” Dean mutters.

“I think it’s for the best you keep on ignoring me and give your whores all of your attention,” brushing past Dean you slap his hand away when he tries to touch you.

“Y/N!”

“Don’t Winchester-“ you growl. “I fulfilled my duty and got pregnant. Now you can stick your dick into any pussy and stay the fuck away from me and don’t worry about my labor. I will, just like anything else since I got pregnant, handle this on my own. If I should need help at any point of my pregnancy, Sam and John offered to be there for me.”

Now …

“Dean messed up epically, huh?” John carefully tries when you get up to walk toward the nursery next to the guestroom. “What are you going to do?“

"Nothing, John. Just like the first four months of my pregnancy, I will try to do what’s best for my son,“ John’s eyes light up when you tell him he’s going to have a grandson. “Today I’ll focus on finishing the nursery. Benny and Sam helped me with the wallpaper and cradle. I must check on the bears I painted and will make a list of what I will need.”

“I can help,“ offering you a cracked smile John holds out his hand. “I got you into this shitshow, let me at least try to make things easier for you, doll.”

“You could check on the shelves and cradle,” you sniff. “I just wish I had a man like you or Sam by my side. I see the way Sam cares about his wife and children. I know Dean is a little closed-off, like you but he’s kind to everyone he likes. Must be me.”

“Oh, Y/N,” slinging one arm around your shoulders John leads you out of your chosen bedroom. “You still got people caring about you. Sammy and I will be there and help you.”

“I know…”

“You’re talented,” looking at the bears you painted John smiles. “Mommy bear and baby bear,” he hums, admiring your painting. “Where’s the dad?”

“I’m a single parent, John. Why should I paint a daddy bear if he gives a shit on me and his son?” Dean stands in the doorframe, watching his father help you fix one of the shelves, swallowing thickly. “You know, every single woman at my doctor’s practice looks so happy, they glow and I just-“

“I get it, Y/N. You wanted your pregnancy to be special,” nodding you look at the bears. “You could draw an Uncle Sammy and Granddad John bear.”

“I’ll think about it, John,” with a small smile on your lips you watch John place the plushies onto one of the shelves. “You know, he didn’t even care about my morning sickness or cravings. I had this image in my mind. Dean the devoted soon-to-be dad helping me during my pregnancy. I know he doesn’t love me, I’m not delusional. But a bit more attention would’ve been nice.”

Two months later…

Used to being on your own you walk into your doctor’s practice. This time you don’t look at all the happy couples wishing it were you and Dean. Over the last weeks, you made up your mind.

Only as you don’t get to leave Dean doesn’t mean you must bear his behavior. So, you decided to keep your distance and only ask John, Sam, or Benny for help with the nursery.

You no longer tell Dean about your check-ups or try to include him in your pregnancy.

“Morning, Mrs. Winchester,” you flinch when the nurse calls your name. “How are you feeling today? Will the baby daddy be here today too?”

“No,” you breathe out. “Let’s be honest, Sally.” giving the young nurse a sad smile, you point toward the other pairs. “I know you are only trying to be friendly but anytime you are asking about my non-present husband it stings. Why don’t you treat me like a single parent? Cause that’s what I am.”

“How’s the baby?” Dean asks again, following you toward the nursery. “Listen, I know you try to punish me but not telling me about our baby breaks one of my rules.”

“The baby is still alive. He grows fast and the ultrasound picture lies on your desk. If you have more questions, call my gynecologist or,” turning around you give Dean a cold look, “you could move your ass to the practice next time but I get it – you were busy.”

“I got the right to know about my son,” growling the words Dean steps closer but this time, he doesn’t intimidate you with his size. “Tell me everything.”

“Weight and size are average. His heartbeat is strong, and he sucked his thumb today,” you scoff at Dean’s sudden interest. “You would know more about your child if you actually cared. He started to be more active, I can feel our little boy kick me harder but so far, only John felt our baby kick.”

Walking away you enter your room, slamming the door shut behind you, locking it to take a deep breath.

“He’s my son too! You can’t shut me out!” Dean yells from the hallway.

“Sperm donator, you son of a bitch,” you growl. “If it were up to me, I’d file for divorce.”

“YOU WON’T!” he mutters. “I will not allow you to leave me.”

“I got that, but you should know that our marriage is over to me. If you dare to get close to me ever again, you’ll lose your hands or cock. Go and fuck one of your sluts.”

“I should-“ frustrated Dean kicks your door. “You’re still my wife, Y/N. I expect you to respect me and our bond.”

“Fuck that,” feeling exhausted you lie on your bed, gently running one hand over your belly. “He’ll not ruin your life, baby boy. I promise to protect you from your asshole father.”

“I heard that.”

“I don’t fucking care,” you cry. “Now leave me alone. You got the information you need. Don’t worry, your heir is still healthy. Even though, you didn’t help me at all…”

Two months, two weeks, and five days later…

“Looks good,” John hums, glancing at the ultrasound picture. “How are you, doll? Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine,” looking at your wedding band you try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Is there a way to protect my child from Dean? Can you add something to the prenup? Please.”

“I will not allow Dean to hurt your son, Y/N. I don’t think Dean would ever lay a finger on him-“

“That’s not what I meant. Being around Dean is unhealthy for me. What will he do to our child? How shall I explain to my baby boy that his father hates me? That I’m only a breeder to him, a body he could use to get a child.”

“Are you fucking my father?” ludicrously you look at Dean when he storms into your room, your solace. “That’s the reason you moved out of our bedroom – huh? You spread your legs for John Winchester.”

“What the fuck, Dean?” you sniff, reluctantly leaving the bed. “Over the last week I barely left my room as I didn’t feel well, and you accuse me of such a thing? I don’t have the time to fuck anyone. Unlike you, I had to take care of anything-“ whimpering you feel a piercing pain ripple through your womb. “Oh, god-“

“Y/N?” paling Dean watches you crouch down in front of your bed, crying out in pain. “What’s wrong? Y/N, talk to me, sweetheart.”

“Go and get your father or Sam,” you pant, while you try to remember everything the midwife taught you. “I think the baby wants to get out.”

“No, it’s too early,” panicked Dean rushes to your side to help you sit on the bed. “I’ll call an ambulance, Y/N.”

“O-okay-“ you scream, feeling another painful contraction approach. “No, no. My water just broke.” tears run down your cheeks when John and Sam stumble into the room. They heard your screams and try to help.

“Fuck, doll,” John mumbles, kneeling in front of you to calm you. “Sammy, call an ambulance and tell Benny to get Y/N’s bags. I’ll stay here to help her.”

“I already called an ambulance. Stop acting as if that’s your son,” Dean growls, glaring at his father.

“Do you want to help the mother of your child or fight with me right now, son? I think you showed how much you are interested in your child. Now shut the fuck up and help me here,” John would like to give his son a piece of mind but right now, he must take care of you.

“John,” grasping for your father-in-law’s hand, “promise me he won’t be there. I don’t want Dean inside the room while I give birth.”

"That’s my wife and child in there! Lemme inside,” Dean growls, fighting against one of the security guards. “Let me pass.”

“DEAN,” John’s voice booms through the hallway. “Your wife is in there. She’s in pain, scared, and tries to give birth to your baby. Stop acting like an idiot. You had it coming.”

“You didn’t care about your child or wife for over eight months. Did you honestly believe she wants you in there?” Sam huffs, squeezing Jess’s hand. “I was with Jess the whole time. I heard the heartbeat, saw my baby, felt it kick. I can’t believe you didn’t want to experience any of it.“

“I-I never wanted to marry Y/N. It was an arranged bond,” Dean sniffs, hearing you cry out in pain.

“This doesn’t change she’s your wife and that she needed you. Even more important, your son needed you. I believe babies bond with their parents in the womb. You could’ve talked to him, played music, or feel him kick.”

“Look at you baby boy,” cooing your son you feel your heart swell. Even if Dean is not going to show any affection toward your child, you’ll give the little boy all your love. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Can I finally see him too?” Dean mutters, sneaking into your room. “How could you let my father, Sam, and Jess see my son first?”

“I didn’t think you will find the time to visit me and your baby. If you would excuse me now, I want to concentrate on Robert Maximilian Winchester.”

“What?” gaping at you Dean feels his stomach churn. “You named him Robert? But-but we agreed to name him Dean jr. How could you not only keep me away while giving birth but also deciding on a name without me? That’s cruel.” Dean sniffs, looking at your son in your arms.

“Cruel–?” you take a deep breath, try to ignore the burning rage running through your veins. “Do you know what cruel means, Winchester? Cruel means that your husband, the man you love with all your heart ignores you completely. Cruel means that he never shows affection or at least cares about you during pregnancy.”

“I’m his father!”

“Sperm donator,” you retort. “We are only a breeder and a sperm donator. You are not a father, and never will be. You’ll not hurt my baby boy and push him away as you did with me. You can lay claim on him when he turns 18, until then I’ll give him all the love he deserves.”

“He’s my baby boy too,” sniffling Dean looks at your child, tearing up. “Let me at least hold him. Please.”

“Not today,” adamant you defend your son, not giving in. It’s your turn to be selfish and not to show any compassion. Dean can cry as much as he wants to.

Today, you’ll be the cruel one – even if it kills you.

“She doesn’t let me hold my son,” outside of your room Dean starts to cry. “I wasn’t allowed to hold my baby boy. How can she be so cruel?”

“I say it again – you had it coming,” John shrugs, ignoring he feels sorry for his son. “Y/N never was cruel. All she wanted was a bit of affection. Why couldn’t you give her that?”

“I just didn’t feel like pretending. But I care about our baby and want to hold him.”

Dean doesn’t leave your side. He sits next to your bed, still looking at his son.

“Please let me hold him, Y/N.”

“Five minutes,” you whisper, not looking at Dean. “You can hold him for five minutes and after that, you can pretend we do not exist until you need your heir.”

“It’s not like that,” with trembling fingers Dean takes Robert Maximillian out of your hands. “He’s so beautiful and tiny.”

“It’s a baby, what did you expect,” turning around to not watch Dean with your son you close your eyes. “Tell me when you are done playing daddy, Dean.”

“Why are you so cold. This isn’t you, Y/N.”

“That’s what happens to a loving person when she gives up. If you don’t like me the way I am now, you can always ask your dad to let me out of this marriage...”

“Look this is your room, baby boy,” cooing your baby you walk around the room. “There is a teddy bear, and over there is a cute duck. Maybe you’ll like the cat Sammy bought for you?”

“He doesn’t like cats,” Dean grumbles, walking into the nursery. “I bet he’s allergic like me.” hopefully looking at you Dean holds out his hands. “Come on, lemme hold him for a while.”

“I will leave you to your son, Dean. If you are done pretending you are a father, holler and I’ll take care of Robert,” carefully placing your son into Dean’s arms you ignore he tries to talk to you.

“Y/N, we should talk about a few things.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, Dean. I’m stuck in this marriage, but this doesn’t mean I let you walk all over me ever again. I am a single parent, and this will not change…”

>> Part 2

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#Single Parent #dean winchester #SPNMixedBingo #dean winchester fanfic #mobster!dean x reader #MOBSTER!AU #angst #unrequited love #pregnant reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester x you #mobster!dean winchester x reader

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idreamofplaid · 3 years

Text

Whiskey and a Cabin

Square Filled: Skinny Dipping for @spnkinkbingo; Free Space for @spnfluffbingo; In Vino Veritas for @spndeanbingo

Characters: Dean x Reader; Sam mentioned

Rating: Explicit

Summary: The right mood, the right place, the right woman, and some whiskey help Dean realize the truth about what he wants.

Word Count: 3628

A/N: It took me weeks to deliver the fluffy Dean smut I promised to everyone who voted for it. Life intervened. My muse left, and then she returned. So, here it is.

Whiskey is not my friend. I mean, yeah it’s gotten me through some tough spots. Hell trauma, an apocalypse or two, and boatloads of guilt. But last night, it turned on me.

This wasn’t the first time you helped Sam and me on a case. You’re the best damn psychic I’ve ever seen, even better than Pamela. You’d think I’d learn after what happened to her, but there’s no denying your kind of skills are helpful.

It was just a celebration of the end of another case and everybody still alive. That’s all. A few beers that turned into a few shots. Sam bowed out, like he usually does, after a couple of drinks. I should have known when I gave him the car keys, and sent him back to the motel, that I’d wake up in your bed. Hell, who am I fucking kidding? I did know. I knew, and it’s exactly what I wanted.

This is the hard part. It’s time to leave town, and I don’t know when I’ll see you again. This could have happened before. I’m surprised it didn’t. Well, I’m surprised I didn’t try. I’ve gotten hard more than once watching you move, and thinking about the way you moved with me last night is making me hard again.

I can’t do this. I can’t think about wanting to see you again. I can’t think about those sounds you made while I was buried deep inside you, and your body was tightening around my cock milking every single drop out of it.

I stuff my hands in my pockets, and my fingers hit my cell phone. Damn it. I at least want to hear you again, maybe set something up for the next time I’m in town. I scroll through my list of contacts and stop when I get to your name. My thumb hovers over it, and I remember the way your hair smells like strawberries and flowers. I tap the phone against my forehead a couple of times.

What the hell am I doing? My life is on the road with Sam killing monsters. There’s no room in that for a girlfriend. What woman in her right mind would sign up for that? I fling my cell phone on the bed and get up to finish packing.

I’m shoving my shaving kit into my duffle when there’s a knock at the door. I zip my bag up, roll my eyes, and head for the door. “C’mon, man, you gotta do better than this. You’re slippin’ Sa…”

My mouth probably fell open. I’m pretty sure it did. It’s not my brother standing there; it’s you, and you walked into the room like you belonged there, like you’d been invited. I mean I would have asked you in, but….you were already there.

“Don’t look so surprised, Dean.” You got right up next to me, so close I could smell the sweet fragrance of your skin.

I watched you run your fingers straight up the center of my chest and play with the top button on my shirt before you let it go and dropped your hand. “Did you think I was just going to let you leave without even a good-bye after last night? And I know you would have. Don’t try to deny it. I’ve known you too long.”

I didn’t know what to say. Words usually just roll out of my mouth around women. Sometimes it’s too easy, but I had no idea what the hell to say to you. I couldn’t just stand there looking like an idiot though. I didn’t want you to think I was dumb.

I ran my hand through the hair at the back of my neck. “I wasn’t gonna just...leave. I was about to call you.” You smiled at me, nodding your head in that silent “Uh, huh. Right.” kinda way. “I was, Y/N..because I want to see you again.”

You sat down on the bed next to my duffle, looked at it and ran your hand over the canvas. When you turned back to look at me again, you had that irresistible flirty smile on your face. “Are you saying that because I took advantage of you last night, Dean?”

I swear I felt the beginning of a blush making my cheeks warm. “You...you didn’t…’take advantage’ of me, Y/N.” If there was anything left that I could have pretended to pack, I would have, just to give my hands something to do, but you were too close to the bag.

Last night was a little hazy, but I remembered all of it. I could pretend I didn’t remember, but I doubt you’d let me get away with that, and I don’t want to. I don’t want to pretend that things weren’t the way they were between us, like I wasn’t the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Maybe it was the happiest I’ve been ever.

There was no flame burning in the fireplace, but the logs were still there. We were deep enough into spring that it wasn’t cold enough for a fire anymore, but it was still nice sitting on the floor in front of it with you. The logs might not be burning, but I could smell the earthiness of the hickory. I liked it. It made this place you’ve created for yourself seem even more like a home somehow.

You poured more whiskey into my glass, and the bottle clinked when it touched the rim. The sound seemed almost festive, if those kinds of things happened in my life. For me, it was a little sad. It reminded me I didn’t have moments like that, couldn’t have them.

I let my mind wander for a second, longer than I should have. You looked so pretty sitting there on that rug that I know you picked out special just for this spot, just so the floor wouldn’t be bare. Uncovered floors felt temporary. They were as is. Nothing about them said “I’m going to stay here. This is my home.”

Being in a place that felt like this, like it had some roots, and being here with you, was making me feel things I usually kept buried deeper than the bones in the graves me and Sam dug up, but I couldn’t salt and burn this feeling away.

I should have stopped drinking, but it felt so good being here with you. It felt comfortable, and all those things together were enough to get me to start talking. You asked an open ended question, the kind I usually deflect in a heartbeat, but I didn’t this time.

“What are you thinking, Dean?” I watched your lips close around your glass as you took another sip of your whiskey. It was the Crown Royal kind you like with some flavor in it, but I didn’t even care that it was something I’d never drink, and why do I remember the kind of whiskey you like?

“Dean?” You were smiling at me and I was way too lost in this moment for my own good. “I asked you what you’re thinking”

I smiled back at you. It felt good to be smiling, for real, not pretending to be okay or trying to be funny to make myself think I was okay. This really felt good. “This is nice.”

It wasn’t the most original thing I’d ever said, but it was true. The next thing I said was better. It was so much better. I opened up that vault inside me where I keep my more complicated life feelings locked up and let them pour out.

“You’ve really made something for yourself here, Y/N. It’s the kind of place a guy could picture himself staying for awhile.” You didn’t say anything. If you had, that might have stopped my grand confession, but you didn’t; and I kept going.

“I think about being somewhere like this, a lot. I think about having a home and somebody to share it with. Somebody like you.” My eyes found yours, and for the first time I noticed just how pretty they are. I mean, I knew. You’re a beautiful woman, but I don’t think I’d ever seen you before like this. You weren’t just a potential one night thing, or at best a string of nights.

I’d never thought before about waking up beside you for something really wild, like a whole week, because I was never anywhere long enough for that, much less something, permanent. And I knew, even though I never admitted it, that permanent was something I wanted. It was something I wanted, and right now you were making me ache for it.

You put down your glass and scooted closer to me. The way you were biting yur bottom lip made me want to taste it.

I tasted your lips last night and most of the rest of your body too. The memory of just how sweet you are is still on my tongue if I think about it, and it makes my mouth water wanting more of you.

I swear you can read my mind. That look in your eye, it’s like you know what I’m thinking. Not that it’s all that hard to figure out. I hope you’re remembering last night the way I do.

You lean over to the nightstand between the two beds, open the drawer, and pull out the motel’s notepad along with the pen they provided. Then you start to write something on the top sheet. That’s one of the things about you that makes me absolutely crave you; I never know what you’re going to do next.

I move a little closer, trying to see what you’re writing. Finally, I give up and ask, “Who’s the note for?”

You keep on writing while you answer me. “It’s for Sam, so he knows I’ve taken his brother for a couple of days.”

When you finish writing, you hold the pen and notepad out to me. “Now, tell him you’ll see him back at the bunker.”

I look at the page and what you’d written there. “Sam, Dean’s going to be staying with me for the weekend. Don’t worry. He’ll be well taken care of.” Y/N.

That last sentence was making my cock twitch. I took the pen and wrote: See you back at the bunker, Sammy.

You tore the sheet off the pad of paper and put it on top of the table where Sam would be sure to see it. We both knew it was rare for my little brother to miss anything. I stood there not moving, a little in disbelief about what was happening.

The smile on your face was indulgent and a little amused. You were enjoying this, enjoying me not quite knowing what to do. You closed your hand around my chin, fingers on each side of my face, and kissed me. I could still feel the warmth of your mouth on mine after you pulled away.

You gave my ass a pat as you walked by me on your way to the door and said, “C’mon, lover, I’ve got plans for you.”

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

Your house is off the main road, surrounded by trees with a lake out back. It’s a cabin, but not like any cabin I’ve ever been in before. You’ve got a real kitchen with real cabinets, instead of rough shelves some hunter nailed to the wall just to be functional. There’s a place to eat in the kitchen too. As in, there’s an actual table where you have home cooked meals, instead of something just dumped out of a can.

Your bed is like a dream. You don’t sleep on cheap motel sheets that can be more accurately described using the word threadbare than thread count. Add you, naked and beautiful, to the mix; and it’s better than a dream.

I’m still lost in memories and possibilities of what we could have here together when you walk up behind me, put your arms around me, and rest your hands flat on my chest. I feel you lay your cheek against my back for a few seconds before you turn your head and put a kiss on my shoulder blade.

I turn in your arms and pull you up against me; it feels like you’re even closer than when you were behind me. Maybe because my cock is more than a little interested in resuming last night’s activities when it’s pushed into you like this. I lean down to kiss you, knowing exactly where I want this to go.

The way you kiss me is warm and soft, but there’s fire behind it. You’re everything I want, even the things I don’t let myself think about. Sex is the easy part, but you make me feel. You make me want to hold you always, and that’s a dangerous thought.

You’re the first to break the kiss and take my hand in yours. “C’mon, Dean. I didn’t get to show you the deck last night.”

I follow you outside, and the view out there is unbelievable. It’s hard to believe you live here; you get to see this every day. This is your life.

Your hand is still in mine, and I can picture us sitting there on your deck, sipping a couple of beers and watching the sun go down. Something else is on your mind though, and I don’t have the first objection to that.

You push my flannel back off my shoulders and drag it down my arms. It falls to the wooden floor behind me. You’re looking me up and down, making a big show of licking your lips.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Dean.” You pull at the front of my t-shirt, and I get the hint. I strip out of it, and you make a point of running your eyes over my naked chest. “Still too many clothes.” You say it with a certain gleam in your eye that I’ve seen there before.

I look around, feeling self conscious, like I’m expecting people to appear out of the trees. There’s nothing but pines and water. This is a private show.

I take off everything I’m wearing until there’s not a stitch left on my body. You run your hand down my side. As it gets lower, you move it around to my back so you can cup my ass and squeeze.

My body likes that. It likes that a lot. “Are we going to do this right here?” I ask you.

“Yes, Dean, we absolutely are.” You bite your bottom lip. You’re being all flirty and seductive with me, and I love it. Your teeth let go of your lip, and your tease your fingertips across my chest. “Just not yet,” you say.

I watch you taking your clothes off while my cock gets harder. You’re going to make me wait, and that’s hot. I’ll wait to come for you. I can’t believe I just said that, even in my own head.

You take my hand and lead me down the wooden steps of the deck. When my toes hit the grass, it feels good; but not as good as you look. Your hips curve just right, and your ass is so full and round; I can’t wait to get my hands on it. The way you walk, almost like you’re drifting over the ground, is so graceful. Fuck, but you are beautiful.

Just watching you has made me completely hard by the time we get to the lake, and I follow you into the water. It’s warm enough that my dick and my balls stay full and heavy. When we’ve reached a place where the water is up to my chest and lapping at my nipples, making them hard too, you stop and turn to me.

The water has completely covered your breasts so I can’t see them anymore, but I can feel them. I cup them in my hands below the waterline and flick my thumbs over your nipples. The sound that comes out of you is breathy, needy, and one of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard. It makes my dick bob in the water.

“Kiss me, Dean.” You say it through those beautiful hot moaning sounds you’re making. I wouldn’t deny you anything, and this is such an easy thing to give you. I want you so bad right now. There’s nothing but the feel of you in my arms as my lips close over yours, and the warmth of the sunshine on my shoulders.

The taste of your tongue is sweet on mine, and the deeper the kiss goes, the more I want you. You jump up and wrap your legs around my waist, and I grab your ass with both hands to hold you up. Your kisses are getting more intense, and I want you so much now, my cock is throbbing. I’m sure I’m leaking a steady stream of pre come, but it’s impossible to tell. You grind your hips against my aching cock, and I let out a groan louder than I meant to, but who’s going to hear us? We can make all the noise we want.

You’re kissing along my jaw and squeezing your thighs around me. “Take me, Dean. Right here. Need to feel you inside me, stretching me open.”

“Baby girl, you’re gonna make me crazy if you talk like that.” I’m almost gasping for breath at this point, at least if feels that way.

“Then stop talking,” you tell me. “Fuck me right now. Here. Under the sky with nature as our witness. Do it, Dean.”

I lift you up higher; you take my cock in you hand and position me at your entrance. Then I lower you down onto me. You’re so tight and feel so good I could almost cry from the relief and rightness of it.

I’m lifting you up and down, helping you ride my cock, while the water sloshes around us. You reach down between our bodies to stroke your clit and throw your head back, urging me on the closer you get to coming. “More, Dean. Harder.”

For once, I’m glad Sam nagged me about using the gym in the bunker. “We have it” he kept saying. Right now, I’m damn glad I wandered in there on a few occasions. I need all the balance skills I have to navigate the uneven bottom of the lake while I thrust up into you for all I’m worth.

Your pussy is grasping at my cock, choking it, challenging me to last a second longer. I will because you’re gonna come all over me before I let myself go. When I feel your walls start to clench around me and your nails start to tear at my back, I know I’ve got you.

“That’s it, baby. Mark me. Show me how good it feels.” I drag across your sweet spot and push into you as deep as I can. Your body shakes in my arms when you come.

The sound of you saying my name while you come undone is more than I can take. I fill you up, shooting my load inside you; and when I’m done, I drop my head onto your shoulder. “Y/N...that...you...are incredible.” I’m talking into your skin because I haven’t raised my head yet.

Time passes, I don’t know how long, with us wrapped around each other just like that. The next thing I’m aware of is your fingers combing through my hair. Ilift my head to kiss you again, and I can feel something shift inside me. It clicks into place.

Everything I said last night is the total truth, but there isn’t a drop of whiskey in me now. I could stay here with you, want to stay here with you. With that thought in my head, I walk out of the lake carrying you all the way back to the deck.

When we get there, I notice the folded up quilt and the pillows stacked beneath one of the windows. You had this planned all along. “Can you stand, sweetheart?”

Your head has been laying on my shoulder, and you turn it to kiss me right beside my neck. “I can make it,” you answer softly.

My body has been separated from yours for awhile now, but when I put you down to spread out the quilt and pillows; I feel the loss of that contact in my gut. I need to hold you again.

I get things set up as fast as I can, sit down on the quilt, and pull you down with me. You lay back and put your head on a pillow first, and I can only hope you’re as eager as I am to feel our bodies wrapped around each other again.

It’s probably been less than two minutes since I let go of you, but that still seems like too long when I take you into my arms again. For a little while, my life is perfect. The warm sun overhead dries our skin while I run my fingers lightly up and down your back. Your head is on my chest where it belongs, and a bird singing is the only sound. I want to freeze this moment forever.

“Dean?” I kiss the top of your head.

“Yes, baby.” My fingers are still moving on your back while I wait for you to ask your question. “Do you think Sam would be okay in the bunker by himself for the next week?”

I feel a big smile spread across my face. “Oh, I know he will.” This is definitely the start of something.

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @tumbler-tidbits @fandom-princess-forevermore @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @asthesunwentdown @vulgar-library @thinkinghardhardlythinking @petitgateau911 @calaofnoldor

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @ellewritesfix05 @weepingwillowphoenix

Voters: @just-call-me-kim @siospins @jamzm @deandaydreaming

#spnkinkbingo #spnfluffbingo #spndeanbingo #dean smut #dean fluff #dean x reader

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muffinbeliever · 3 years

Text

When the Stars Align [07]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Soulmate!Reader

Word Count: 4717

Warnings: language, sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), ANGST, but also cute date fluff, Lisa Braeden (yes this is a warning), crying, body insecurity

Summary: Soulmate!AU– Everyone has the first words their soulmate says to them tattooed on their wrists. You and your cat are living a normal life in Fort Collins, Colorado when three men come bursting through your door, completely changing your life. Reader-insert story. Starts around S06E08, but Sam has his soul, and it doesn’t really follow the series from there

A/N: HELLO !!!! i apologize for the delay my classes have been swamping me with work and i already had writers block but i finished this chapter like five minutes ago and i'm desperate to post it and see what you guys think ! please be sure to leave comments and likes as always <3

Masterlist | When the Stars Align Masterlist

Sunlight illuminated Dean’s face that you admired as you drove along the open road. The windows were down, a light breeze flowing through the car. Occasionally, Dean would catch you staring at him, but you didn’t mind and neither did he.

You giggled when you noticed a familiar neon sign and the red leather booths that peaked through the window, having been here only a couple of hours before.

“What?” Dean looked over at you, nervous as he didn’t know why you laughed. You shook your head, before replying.

“I just really like this place,” you said, refraining from telling him about your earlier excursion with Thomas, not wanting it to ruin the moment. He gave you a soft smile.

“I remember,” he said, his eyes shining with fondness, “You mentioned that you come here a lot when you were showing me around.” Your heart soared at the fact that he remembered the small detail.

He parked the car, before quickly getting out of the car, jogging over to your side to open the door before you could even register what had happened. He extended his arm and you giggled at his silliness before getting out of the car. He closed the door behind you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, gently leading you towards the diner.

There weren’t many people and you were grateful, hoping to have a quiet dinner with your soulmate and get to know him a bit better. He grabbed a booth snuggled against a corner of the room, gesturing you to sit down. You took one side of the table and he took the other side.

Two menus were placed on the table, and the dark-haired waitress flashed Dean a smile. She looked a couple of years older than you and her black jeans and tight shirt hugged her curves, her tied apron accentuating her slim waist. Her hair fell in gentle waves, framing her face in a way that yours never did.

“My name is Carmen, I’ll be serving you tonight,” she said directly to Dean. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and you caught Dean glance at you.

“Can I start you off with anything to drink?” She asked, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll have a Coke, please. Sweetheart, what about you?” He asked you kindly.

“A water, please,” you said to Carmen. Her eyes roamed your face and clothes, and she gave you a smirk.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she said, winking at Dean before walking away, her hips swaying with each step. There was a familiar sinking feeling in your chest that reeked of self-doubt.

Who did you think you are? Bagging a guy like Dean Winchester? Obviously, you weren’t terrible to look at, but you sure as hell weren’t a head-turner. Guys didn’t double take when you passed by nor did they try to pursue you. The only exception was Thomas, and you were sure that it was more of a friendly attraction than romantic.

You picked up a menu, not even sparing Dean a glance, trying to focus on what you were going to eat. Despite having eaten here many times, you were surprised at the selection they offered. Most times, you got a salad, sometimes switching it up with a burger, but the prospect of a pastrami sandwich sounded especially inviting tonight. You were debating ordering the pastrami, but decided that it probably wouldn’t look very attractive to eat. Besides, you were already self-conscious about your body, might as well try to eat healthily. Out of the corner or your eye, you saw Carmen approach your table, placing down the two drinks and straws.

“Have you decided what to get, sugar?” Carmen said, flashing a smile at Dean, not that he noticed. He was still looking at the menu, preoccupied with the dozens of choices to choose from.

“Yeah, uh… I’ll get the double bacon cheeseburger with fries on the side,” he said, before looking up and handing her his menu.

“And you?” She asked in a bored tone.

“I’ll get the chicken salad please, dressing on the side,” you said and she wrote it down before leaving. Dean gave you a look.

“Salad? I thought you liked burgers,” he observed, and you felt your heart sink. You didn’t want to be a salad girl, but here you were. You chastised yourself, this is Dean. He doesn’t care if you eat a pastrami sandwich.

“You’re right, I’ll be right back,” you said with newfound courage before getting up from the booth and walking over to the counter. You were able to call out to Carmen.

“Actually, can I have the pastrami sandwich with a side of fries instead of the salad?” She scoffed.

“Figures,” she muttered, “You don’t look like the salad type.”

Her bitchy tone cut through your heart like a knife. You were taken aback, unable to think for a second. You tried formulating a response, but she was already gone. You looked over at Dean who was typing away on his phone, probably texting Sam. You were defeated once again by a beautiful woman.

You made your way to the table, sitting down, lost in your thoughts. Dean’s phone was put away and you were staring at the table. Thinking for a second, you got up, and a look of confusion flashed in Dean’s eyes, but it was gone when you slid into the booth right next to him.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Get a little lonely over there?” He joked and you rolled your eyes before snuggling closer to him, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne.

“Just missed you was all,” you mumbled into his shoulder and he kissed the top of your head.

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” he said, “but I can tell something is wrong.” He gave you a knowing look.

“Carmen is pretty,” you admitted, hating that you were being petty.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he said, and you scoffed, pulling away to look at him.

“I’m not jealous,” you said, hoping you sounded more confident than you felt.

“I was just… I was making sure that… I…” you stammered before sighing, your shoulders falling in defeat.

“Yeah, okay maybe I was a little jealous. But clearly, we’re here together and she just kept staring at you, and don’t even get me started on how she talked to me.” You could feel yourself sinking deeper into your thoughts, hating that your stupid insecurities were about to ruin the date.

“What did she say to you?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing. You shook your head, debating on not telling him, but his deep green eyes were full of concern and worry.

“Just that I don’t look like the salad type,” you said, lowering your head in embarrassment. A hand came up to cup your cheek and your eyes met his once again.

“That’s bullshit. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m only yours, sweetheart,” he said, sincerely, before pulling you into a gentle kiss. It was scary how easily that calmed you down. You had struggled with insecurities for the majority of your life, and it usually took a couple of days, if not weeks, to pull yourself out of the dark hole in your mind, but one kiss from Dean, and all of the sudden, your heart stops racing and your thoughts slow.

Your kiss was disrupted by a clatter of plates on the table. Carmen didn’t speak a word to either of you and she was about to leave when Dean called out to her.

“You’re going to apologize to my girlfriend and then we’re getting a new server. You have no right to speak to her like that,” Dean defended you, an angry look on his face.

“Dean,” you whispered, a bit embarrassed by how this was going. She wasn’t exactly wrong, you weren’t supermodel-thin nor did you have amazing curves that drove men wild.

“Sorry,” Carmen said, not sounding sorry at all, before spinning on her heels and walking away from the table.

“Bitch,” Dean muttered, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed you were lost in your thoughts, a small frown on your face. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head before you turned to look up at him.

“Let’s just enjoy our date,” you said with a hopeful smile, and he nodded. Forty minutes, a pastrami sandwich, and a double bacon cheeseburger later, you were giggling like a schoolgirl, enamored by the man sitting next to you.

“Sammy was sitting on the handlebars while I rode us to the hospital!” Dean exclaimed and you laughed at the story. He snatched a fry off your plate and dipped it in ketchup before shoving it in his mouth. You were acutely aware of the warmth radiating from his thigh that was pressed against yours. Caught up in his green eyes, you didn’t notice a man approach the table.

“How was the food?” You jumped, shocked at his sudden appearance. It was the manager, John or Jacob or something with a ‘J’. He came over after you complained about Carmen, apologizing for her behavior and telling you that he would be serving you for the rest of the night.

You beamed at him, completely satisfied with the pastrami sandwich that was now happily sitting in your stomach.

“Great!” Dean responded, flashing him a smile. The manager returned the smile before continuing.

“Because of your unpleasant start to the evening, dessert is on us. We have root beer floats, ice cream sundaes, and a variety of pies,” he listed, and you immediately looked at Dean whose eyes lit up.

“We’ll take a slice of apple pie, please,” Dean responded right away, his hand squeezing yours in excitement. You giggled at the smile on his face. The manager nodded and left the table, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence. You looked up at him, admiring the freckles dotting his face. He gave you a soft smile that you returned and you leaned in for a kiss. It was a chaste kiss, not one of need or lust, but adoration and love.

Throughout the months, you have accepted that you had fallen for the oldest Winchester brother. There was the obvious fact that he was your soulmate, the one person in the world made exactly for you, but you knew that even if that weren’t the case, you would have still been in love with Dean. You loved his wit and charm, often catching yourself imagining his flirtatious winks. Not only was he gorgeous to look at, but he didn’t flaunt it like other men did. Sure, he knew he was attractive, but you at times, you sensed deep-rooted insecurities from him, which you thought was ridiculous since he was basically built like a Greek god. He was selfless to a fault; always putting everyone before himself. His loyalty to Sam was admirable, and you had no doubt that he would do anything for those he loved.

The manager placed a giant steaming slice of pie between the two of you, two forks on the side of the plate as well as whipped cream. You expected Dean to dig right in, but he looked at you expectantly. The scent of the spiced apple filled wafted from the plate and made your mouth salivate. Dean picked up a fork and detached a large piece from the tip of the slice. Before you could even register his actions, he brought the fork up to your mouth and pressed it against your closed lips. You accepted it without question, humming as the warm treat hit your tongue.

“That bad, huh?” Dean joked with a twinkle in his eye. You smiled at him before returning the favor. Your fork didn’t grab nearly as big of a piece as his did, but you focused on the way his lips wrapped around the fork. His tongue swiped at his upper lip, not wanting to waste a single crumb of pie.

Heat pooled in your belly and you clenched your thighs together, remembering just how much of an expert he was with his tongue. He groaned, his eyes closed as he savored the pie, and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. You let out a small whimper, and his eyes flashed open. His green eyes swept your figure, taking in your squished thighs and flushed neck before smirking at you.

“Later, sweetheart,” he promised, his fingers dancing on the top of your thighs. You could feel his warmth through your jeans, sparks of electricity shooting through you with every touch. You shuffled closer to him, wanting your bodies as close as possible.

“You want some more?” He offered to you and you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Dean got another piece of pie and shoved it in his mouth. You looked at him, confused, and he smirked at you once again before pulling you into a searing kiss. You let out a soft moan as his tongue played with yours, the taste of apple pie fresh in your mouths. His hand tightened around your thigh at the sound. He was the first to pull away, breathless.

“Let’s get this to go, ya?” He suggested with a wink and you giggled, nodding. You were lost in his smile, noting the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and his full lips turned up. He waved the manager down and asked for a box and the check. You placed the pie delicately in the take-out box as Dean set down enough cash to cover for the meal and tip.

You slid out of the booth first, pulling your leather jacket on and Dean’s hand rested on the small of your back, leading the both of you out of the diner. As you expected, the air was crisp and chilled. He opened the door of the Impala for you, making sure you were safely inside before shutting it. You watched as he jogged over to the driver's side, sliding in next to you. Grateful for the long bench, you shifted closer to Dean and his hand came to rest comfortably on your thigh.

The soft sounds of Bon Jovi whispered through the speakers, barely noticeable unless you strained your ears. The windows were closed this time due to the slightly colder weather, but you were warm with Dean beside you.

There wasn’t much talking on the way home. You sat in a comfortable silence, occasionally feeling his eyes on your face, but every time you looked at him, he was looking away, a smile on his face. After the third time, you huffed and grabbed his hand from your thigh, interlacing your fingers with his. He looked at you, surprise written on his face, and you gave him a triumphant smile. He brought your interlocked hands up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your hand.

Before you knew it, the familiar light of your street came into view and he pulled his car up in front of your house. You didn’t want to let go of his hand, so you slid out his door after he did, holding the box of pie in your other hand. The crickets were chirping as you walked up to the front door.

‘Later, sweetheart,’ came the echo of his voice throughout your mind, and you pulled him into the house, roughly kissing him once the door was closed. His arms came to your shoulders, gently pushing off the sleeves of your leather jacket. You struggled a little bit, not wanting to drop the pie in your hand, before Dean took it from you, setting it on the small table next to your door that usually held nothing but a small succulent.

He pulled off your shirt in a swift motion and his lips began traveling down your neck, occasionally sucking and licking sensitive spots. You gasped as he nibbled your earlobe.

“So responsive,” he murmured and an involuntary shiver ran through your body. His leg gently pushed your legs apart and his thigh pressed against your covered core. His hands gripped your waist, and you ground against his thigh, the friction of your jeans rubbing against your sensitive bud in a deliciously perfect way.

“Good girl,” he praised, continuing his trail of kisses from your neck down to the tops of your breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered to himself, staring at your flushed chest. You were wearing a simple bra, nothing fancy or particularly sexy, but Dean made you feel like you were in expensive lingerie, draped in the finest lace and silk in the world. You moaned wantonly, begging for more. You picked up the rhythm, moving faster against his thigh. He watched you with lust-filled eyes, devouring you. The pressure between your legs kept building until it finally peaked, and you came with a loud moan. Dean placed gentle kisses on your sweaty forehead, relaxing you as you came down from your high. His leg came down, setting your feet gently on the floor. Your legs felt like jello, occasional spasms wracking through them.

“Maybe we should move this to the bedroom,” you suggested, not wanting the night to be over. He picked you up in his arms and carried you bridal style into your room. He gently tossed you onto the bed. He peeled his clothes off and you wriggled out of your tight jeans and soaked underwear. Your hands went behind your back to unclasp your bra and you flung it off the bed, hearing it land on the floor with a soft thud. You laid back down on the bed, fully naked and ready for Dean.

His eyes swept over your naked body and you spied his cock straining through the fabric of his boxers. He quickly discarded his underwear and laid on top of you, his firm chest pressing against your naked breasts. You could feel him hard against your stomach and you snaked a hand between the two of you, wrapping your hand around his shaft.

Your thumb wiped across the slit, catching the beads of precum that were leaking from his tip. His breath caught and you slowly pumped him in your hands. One of his large hands came to rest on your right breast, his thumb brushing against your pebbled nipple. The other hand dipped into your wet folds, collecting your juices on his digits. You watched him suck them off his fingers before they were venturing into you once again. You whined, not wanting to wait another second for his cock to be inside you.

“Please,” you said, squirming beneath him. He had one hand lazily circling your clit and the other pinching and tugging at your breasts.

“Please what, sweetheart?” he asked, power dripping from his words. You searched for more friction, but couldn’t find any.

“Please fuck me,” you begged. “I want to feel you inside me please. Fill me up with your big cock.”

“Fuck, baby,” he swore under his breath, before lining himself at your entrance. With a single thrust, he was completely unleashed in you, and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. He groaned into your neck, still not used to your tightness and warmth surrounding him. When you were adjusted to his large size, he began moving inside you.

His cock dragged along your walls with every thrust, emptying you and filling you repeatedly. Your legs hooked around his back, driving him deeper into you, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. Your moans bounced off the walls, as did his low grunts.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he demanded, his fingers working your clit once again. Your eyes clenched shut as you came around him with a scream. He pulled you into a bruising kiss and his thrusts became sloppy as he raced to catch his release, pulling out of you and spilling himself on your chest and stomach. Spent, he rolled next to you, the two of you heaving to catch your breath.

“Wow,” you whispered once your racing heart began to slow. He turned his face towards you, grinning.

“Yeah,” he agreed, before climbing out of bed to get you a damp towel. The two of you cleaned up in silence. He pulled on boxers and you pulled on underwear and his t-shirt, switching the light off before falling back into bed. His arms rested around you, your chests pressed against each other.

“Thank you for taking me on a date,” you said, catching his eyes with yours, “I’ve never been on one before, but I’m glad I waited for you.” You felt his body tense and his lips pressed tightly together.

“Sweetheart,” he started, and you saw regret fill his eyes.

“I should’ve waited for you. I wish I did,” he admitted, his voice tense. You shook your head and tried to press closer to him, but he pulled away.

“Dean,” you asked, confused, but it was his turn to shake his head.

“I never thought I’d meet you. I always thought this—,” he gestured towards your body, “you— I thought it was impossible. The life I live is not made for soulmates. I never imagined myself living a normal life with my soulmate. I couldn’t even bear the thought of it. So I didn’t.”

He ran a hand down his face, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. You tugged at his hand, wanting to see him.

“I know that you have more experience than I do, Dean. That doesn’t bother me,” you tried to explain, but he pulled his hand away from yours.

“You don’t even know half of it,” he snapped back, and you pulled back at his sharp tone.

“Then explain it to me,” you demanded, knowing that this conversation had been boiling for a while and that it was only a matter of time before it reared its ugly head again. Dean must’ve known it too, because his eyes softened and he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

“At first, it was just a bunch of one-night stands,” he started, and you laid stiffly, afraid that he would stop talking if you moved.

“I spent a lot of nights picking up girls in bars. I would flirt with them and take ‘em home. I’d show them a good time and leave before they’d wake up in the morning. It went on like that for years. I didn’t think I’d ever meet you. Hell, I didn’t even know if I’d be alive to meet you.

“But then I met Lisa, and for the first time in my life, I wanted to spend another night with a girl. I ended up spending a whole week at her place. I knew she wasn’t my soulmate. I knew that her soulmate died in a car accident years before. I knew that the universe didn’t perfectly make us for each other, but at the time, I didn’t care. Sam and Dad were on a case and I was alone.

“I thought about her a lot during my time on the road. I wanted to cling onto something— I needed to cling onto something. Years passed, and I still didn’t meet you. Me and Sammy ended up working a case in her city. I met her son.”

Your breath hitched. Her son? Dean turned his head towards you at the sound and saw the panic flash across your eyes.

“Oh no, Ben wasn’t my kid. I swear,” he tried to reassure you, but you didn’t feel comforted at the thought, you merely nodded, gesturing for him to resume his story.

“The apocalypse was approaching, and I was scared. I was weak and scared. I didn’t think I’d make it, and I had accepted the fact that I wouldn’t meet you before the world ended. I thought Lisa and Ben were all I had. I dreamed about her, quite a bit, really. I dreamed about having a life with her, mowing the lawn on Saturdays and picking Ben up from baseball practice. I visited her again before the whole Lucifer-Michael showdown happened. I told her that I’d made arrangements to keep her and Ben safe, and she asked me to stay with her, but I knew that I couldn’t. I had to be there for Sammy. For Bobby.

“But then, Sam was in the cage. I was lost and broken. So I did the only thing that I could think of. I left the hunting life and moved in with Lisa.” His words pierced you like a knife, your heart shattering into pieces. Tears pooled in your eyes.

You weren’t exactly sure why you were upset. It wasn’t his fault that the two of you hadn’t met at the time. It wasn’t his fault that he met Lisa before he met you. It wasn’t his fault that he sought comfort in her when you weren’t there for him. You knew it was no one’s fault, just circumstance, but that didn’t keep you from feeling a sting of betrayal.

“How long?” You whispered, knowing that if you spoke any louder it would crack and you would burst into tears. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the answer. He was silent for a moment, and you thought he wouldn’t respond.

“A year,” he said, his voice hoarse, seemingly filled with regret, concern, and pain. Your stomach dropped. A year? He spent a whole year with her. A whole year with her and her son. Their son. It didn’t matter that Dean wasn’t Ben’s biological father, you already knew that Dean loved him like his own. You let out a shaky breath, preparing yourself to ask the question that had been floating around your mind ever since he started.

“Did you love her?”

You couldn’t even meet his eyes. You looked anywhere but him, your eyes roaming over your ceiling instead of the green eyes that were staring at you. He was quiet, and you closed your eyes, feeling tears spill down the side of your face.

“I thought I did, but I don’t know anymore,” came his whispered reply. “In some ways, it probably was love. But not the kind of love that would survive. I couldn’t live a life without hunting. She couldn’t live a life with hunting.”

You winced at his words. The implication that if they were able to compromise, he wouldn’t be laying next to you right now, but next to her. You wished he had just said yes. Maybe it would’ve hurt less.

“Okay,” you said because there was nothing else to say. You contemplated kicking him out of the bed, but you still loved him, and you knew that it would just pain you more. You turned over on your side, your back facing him. You pulled the covers up, wanting them to swallow you whole. There was movement on the bed and you heard the shuffling of sheets, feeling Dean’s warm body come close to yours to hold you, but you tensed up.

“Please don’t,” you whispered, and he stilled before respecting your wishes, retreating back to his side of the bed. You gripped a pillow against your side, hugging it for comfort. You tried to keep your sobs silent, but there was no use hiding them.

You cried for your pain and hurt, wanting to hate Dean, but you couldn’t. You cried for the love lost between the two of you. You cried because you didn’t know if he even wanted you. But most of all, you cried for Dean. You cried for the burdens he’s endured and that you couldn’t be there for him during times of hardship. You cried because you knew that it wasn’t Dean’s fault, yet here you were punishing him because you were really punishing yourself.

As your tears slowed and your breath became steady again, you were exhausted. You were already drifting off to sleep when you felt Dean’s fingers in your hair and a gentle kiss to your forehead. Too tired to argue, you snuggled into his body and let sleep take you away.

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #dean winchester x y/n #reader x dean #reader x dean winchester #y/n x dean winchester #y/n x dean #dean winchester angst #dean angst #dean winchester fluff #dean fluff #supernatural #supernatural series #muffinbeliever

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icefire149 · 3 years

Note

30! Deancas, its cold so cas insists on a scarf instead of his tie

Char I'm so sorry this took a million years to write. Work and life kept me extremely busy, and then this lovely fic kept going in a different direction (which seems like a theme in every prompt I tackled). I really hope you enjoy this one, and have a lovely day :D

#30 - I love you mumbled into a scarf

Dean had his head buried so deep in thought about the impala’s winter maintenance that he almost missed the familiar foot steps breezing past in the garage. His eyebrows pressed together as he pulled his head out of the car. “Cas, buddy, where are you going?”

Cas stopped dead in his tracks, and turned on his heels. “Oh, Dean.” His gaze nervously glanced around the garage. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Are you okay?” Dean leaned against the side of the impala now, and crossed his arms. “You look kinda spooked.”

Cas’ gaze flitted around the car. “Do you happen to have Jack with you?”

“Nah,” Dean answered, scratching the back of his neck. “He went on a grocery run with Sam about a half hour ago.”

“Oh,” Cas exhaled, and visibly relaxed some. “That’s good. He’ll enjoy that greatly.”

“Did you need him?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“No.”

Dean walked around the car and stopped closer to Cas. “I’m gonna need more than that. What’s up?”

“I need to go Christmas shopping.”

Shaking his head slowly, Dean blinked. “Are….are we celebrating Christmas this year?”

“I’d like to,” Castiel confessed. “I know you and Sam have your own traditions and this is your home, but I’d like to give Jack his first Christmas since….last year he wasn’t here.”

“Oh.” The word tumbled out of Dean’s mouth. He was going to need time to process every verbal hit Cas pummeled him with. In a daze, he pointed at the impala with his thumb. “Do you want a ride?”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” Cas answered genuinely surprised. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He was still sorting Cas’ words when he found himself opening the impala’s door.

The angel slid into the front passenger seat, and they were off in the direction of the nearest shopping mall. It wasn’t until they hit their second red light that something finally clicked into place in his brain. “Is that why you tend to disappear around the holidays?” Turning, he kept his eyes on Cas long enough to see the twist in his expression.

“Maintaining customs, holiday traditions in this case are incredibly important to humans. I didn’t want to overstep or interfere.”

“You do realize I leave probably a dozen voice mails the closer it gets to Christmas, right?”

“Yeah, it’s quite irritating having my phone going off so often when I’m trying not to take from your time with Sam.”

“Cas,” Dean said exasperatedly. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, but the blaring honk of the car behind him momentarily cut off his train of thought. When traffic settled so did Dean, “I already get enough of Sammy, and I’m sure he’s more than sick of me too, especially around the holidays.”

“Oh.”

“And yeah, I’ve been wanting you to join us….since forever. Seriously.”

“I’m sorry.”

There was a pained tone in his voice that startled Dean down to his core. He shivered involuntarily. Glancing over at Cas, he saw that the angel had his eyes glued out the window. It bothered Dean not being able to pin down what was bothering Cas. It felt like so much more was hidden in that apology.

Turning back to the road, Dean reached a hand out blindly until it connected with the sleeve of Cas’ coat. “There’s nothing to be that upset about, your heart was in the right place.”

Cas didn’t respond, and Dean didn’t loosen his grip. Instead, he tightened it, but spoke with a note of levity. “And how many times do I gotta tell you that the bunker is your home too?”

“Once more, perhaps?”

Dean could feel the constriction in his chest loosen at the faint smile he could hear in Cas’ voice. He shook his head. “Giving Jack a real first Christmas is a great idea. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it months ago.”

“I think we’ve all been a bit too preoccupied.”

“Yeah.” Dean withdrew his hand and turned the car down the nearest exit. “You’re not wrong.” Basically since Jack was born they’ve been non-stop busy. The past few months in particular were miserable, for all of them.

“I know things aren’t one hundred percent safe with Michael still out there,” Cas started. “But I’m glad that you’ll be home for Christmas. I fear I would’ve ruined Jack’s holiday if you weren’t here.”

“Nah,” Dean argued, feeling his eyebrows pinch together. “My presence shouldn’t make that much of a difference.”

“Dean.” He could feel the angel’s stare sliding under his skin. “I left Jack with Sam so I could chase every whisper, blade, bullet, and trap that might lead to you. And from what I’ve gathered, Sam did much of the same passing Jack off on whoever was willing to keep an eye on him. That wasn’t fair to him, and I’m not proud of my behavior.”

“Hey,” Dean tried cutting through Cas’ frustration with himself. “You had no idea what Sam was gonna do.”

“Jack was never meant to be Sam’s responsibility. I-”

“You did the best you could at the time.” Cas didn’t answer, and Dean couldn’t risk taking his eyes off of traffic in that moment. “I mean it, and besides we’re well past that tunnel now. And we’re gonna give Jack a real Christmas.”

“Thank you.”

Dean hummed in response, and spotted what he was looking for: the sign for the mall. “Don’t tell Sammy, but-” He glanced at Cas’ curious expression. “since we found the bunker, I’ve always wanted to make it look like Christmas threw up all over the place.”

And to Dean’s genuine surprise, Cas laughed. It was happy and light, and when Dean turned for a heartbeat, the image of Cas with his head tilted back was branded into his memory. The corner of his mouth curled into a grin. “After growing up watching every Christmas special imaginable as a replacement for actually celebrating the holiday normally...I think it’s like making up for lost time if we go overboard.”

Another hearty laugh rocked Cas. “Makes logical sense to me.”

“Besides the kid will get a massive kick out of it.”

“I hope so,” Cas muttered, as the car came to a stop in the parking space.

“Oh trust me, he will,” Dean said throwing an arm behind the back of his seat and turning to face the angel. “Soooo….where to first?”

Cas observed their surroundings before letting his stare rest on Dean. “I’m not sure.”

“Well we can just check out whichever store is closest and work our way around. Sound good?”

“Yes,” Cas smiled softly.

Dean’s hand rested on the door handle, but the movement next to him made him pause. He watched Cas dig a hand into his jacket pockets until he pulled out a long, dark blue scarf. “Traded the tie out for a new accessory?”

The angel snapped his hands to his chest in order to hold the scarf tightly. “It’s new,” he said defensively.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Dean grinned. “Did you go out of your way to buy something the same exact shade as your favorite tie?”

Cas’ eyes trailed down to the fabric between his fingers. “Maybe,” he answered after a short, meditative pause.

“It’s nice,” Dean said pushing his door open. “I was wondering where the tie was today.” He got out of the car and Cas quickly followed him on the other side.

Cas hooked the scarf behind his neck. “It felt redundant.” His expression quickly twisted in frustration as his hands failed to wrap the scarf in a way that would be comfortable.

“Need some help, buddy?”

The angel’s gaze pierced him like a knife, but that didn’t stop Dean from circling around the impala to stop directly in front of Cas. He held his hands out. “Just let….”

Cas’ hands fell to his sides, and the frustration slowly smoothed out of his face. His gaze locked onto Dean’s.

“-me help.” Dean started wrapping the scarf properly so Cas could duck the lower half of his face out of the chilly, winter air whenever he wanted.

There was something magnetic in Cas’ demeanor. As it circled and grew in his eyes, it filled Dean with a soft warmth that drew him a step closer. His skin burned, but on his brother’s life he couldn’t remember in that moment why he would normally never let himself get this close.

Dean could feel the puffs of Cas’ breath caressing his face, sending goosebumps across every inch of his skin. Despite this, he reached forward and finished laying and puffing the scarf up.

The apples of the angel’s cheek’s appeared pinker when Dean’s gaze slid up from the blue fabric that was still caught between his fingers. Cas’ bottom lip twitched for a second, and then he sunk his face into the scarf.

Thoughts slid back into Dean’s head. Louder than ever. The tips of his fingers clung a little tighter to the scarf. This feeling wasn’t new. Everything that had to do with Castiel, it was like a Gordian Knot. There was too much to sort and untangle. The fragile thing they had was too important to him to destroy completely. The solution was simple and staring him in the face, but he’d been teetering on that decision for a decade now.

Before he could move, a simple vibration resounded up his fingertips. And before Dean could ask what the angel had said, Cas broke the moment.

His hands slowly and shakily unhooked Dean’s grip, lowering them. The scarf slid down Cas’ face as he momentarily glanced around the parking lot. Dean quickly forgot about the brief indescribable look in the angel’s stare, when a glimpse of Cas’ teeth caught his eye.

The tension eased in Cas’ shoulders. He released Dean’s hands with a widening smile. “Let’s go. I’m not sure what would be suitable for a Christmas tree. Any ideas?”

“Yeah,” Dean grinned, losing himself in this new moment. “We’ll have to go elsewhere and grab your truck, but I have several ideas.”

The prompt was from this list. I'm not expecting any more prompts from this one, but if there's one you really want me to try please ask! (and specify the prompt list).

#my writing #spn #this takes place in season 14 and Cas is 100% worrying about the empty deal #especially when he also is getting too wrapped up in the moment and an i love you slipped out

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imagineswriting47 · 3 years

Text

Running away

A/N: This is for the Anon who asked ‘ Hello! I saw that your requests were open, and I want to know if it’s possible to write a Dean x reader story where the reader has a dark/sad past ( maybe worse than the Winchesters?) that extends outside of America, like an international type of deal? Then maybe dean does something rude or finds something out and treats her badly, just something that causes her to run away? I literally have no plot to this! Thank you in advance! I want to apologize for this taking so long to get out.

Summary: When Dean finds out the truth about Y/N he doesn’t take it to well.

Parring: Dean/Reader

Warnings: None

Tag List: @akshi8278

If you had told me ten years ago that monsters and demons were real, I would have laughed about it. I would be thinking that you were saying some terrible jokes. Now I know differently. Watching monsters kill my whole family changed everything. How I survived, I will never know. Running away from everything didn't solve anything, either. Flying to America, I hoped that I could leave monsters hunting behind and the British Men of Letters. I couldn't. Once a monster hunter, always a monster hunter. So when I heard about some strange killings the town over from where I had been staying, I had to check it out. Meeting the Winchesters was not what I expected. Nor were they anything like I had been lead to believe. When everything was said and done with the hunt, Sam asked if I would like to come along. I said, 'no.' I gave them my number to call if they needed anything anyway.

After meeting Sam and Dean, I started hunting again. I was meeting other hunters along the way as well. But somehow, the Winchesters and I kept crossing paths. Every time they would ask me to come along with them, I told them 'no.' But the more that I hunted with them, the more I found myself wanting to go with them. For the first time since I lost my family, I felt safe with someone. But how would they handle the truth about me? My past is not pretty. The things that I did for the British Men of Letters are things that I can't forgive myself for. They will hate me if they know the truth about me. But Sam, with those puppy dog eyes, how could I say no. Even when I got a room in the Bunker, I still kept my distance. I was doing my best to keep my past from them. They could never know how much I care about both of them. I fear that they could use it against me, or someone could use the brothers against me.

The past, no matter how hard you run from it, will always find you.

A simple hunt that turned out to be demons changed everything. Demons lie; everyone knows this. But these demons were not lying about me. And when the beast was dead, Dean asked if the creature was telling the truth. Did I sell my soul? My silence was answer enough for him. Then the yelling started. I was everything that he said. I was no better than the monsters that we hunted. While my soul was still mine, it was dirty and tainted by the darkness that is Hell. It doesn't matter to him that my soul is still mine and that I still have my soul. That I managed to get the demon who I sold my soul to break their end of the deal was a miracle. By breaking their end of the agreement, they were making the deal void. Dean didn't care about that, and the whole way back to the Bunker, Dean was silent after Sam got Dean to stop yelling and get in the car. A yelling Dean I knew how to deal with but a quiet Dean that was a bad thing. When the car came to a stop, I all but jumped from the car and went to my room. Closing the door behind me, I sat on my bed. Only a moment later, the door was thrown open by Dean.

"Were you going to tell us?" Dean spoke the quiet furry easy to hear in his voice. I didn't know what more he wanted me to say. What could I say? "You lied to me—your just another monster. I trusted you to have Sam, and I's back. I trusted you, and I should never have done that..." I don't hear anything after that; his words keep getting harsher and harsher. Seeing the chance when Dean stepped further into my room, I ran. Once past him, I let the tears fall down my face. When I felt like I ran into a wall only to have two arms wrap around me.

"Y/N?"

"I'm sorry, Sam. I'm just so sorry." I whisper as I pull away from him. Running to the garage, I jump into my old car. Once out and onto the road, I drive. There was no destination in my mind; I just kept driving; my tears had long since dried, not having the energy go further. I pull into a little service road with the car off. The silence is defining. I did not realize how used to the boys always talking I had gotten.

Climbing into the back of my car, I lay down. Pillowing my jacket under my head, I let the blackness of sleep pull me under. Though my sleep was restless, I could not get more than a couple of minutes of rest. The sun shining in the car's window decided for me that it was time to start moving again. Sitting up, I rub my face trying to wake myself up the best that I can. Climbing back into my car's front seat, I turn the car over and get back out onto the road. I keep heading west following the sun, still with no destination in mind. I only stop when I get hungry or need to use the bathroom. Putting as much distance that I can between the Winchesters and myself.

Just before nightfall, I find a small little town that has a cheap motel in it. Thanking my stars tonight, I pull into the motel parking lot. I was pulling out the little bag of clothing that I keep in the trunk of my car as a 'just in case kind of thing. The motel was reasonable but also dirty as most cheap motels come. Also, it doesn't look like any redecorating has been done since the eighties. After all the salt lines are laid out, I make my way to the shower. The water is thankfully hot, and I let it relax the muscles of my back. I was washing my body before stepping out of the shower. Towel drying my hair, I quickly re-dress and head out of my motel room. I am running into a small town looking for someplace to get something to eat. The town's dinner was little and '50s themed like much of all the diners I had obtained food over the years. Ordering my meal to go, I quickly make my way back to my hotel room. I eat fast, not even tasting what I was eating, knowing that I need to see what I had left in my car. At this point, I considered what had been left at the Bunker lost, and I needed to know what I needed to replace. The bags I felt had some weapons left in them but not enough to keep hunting for long. But I had left my phone behind in my room.

Over the next couple of days, I manage to get some money for doing some hustling at the bars. With that money, I got myself some new clothing and a burner phone. By the end of the week, I move to another town. I kept moving like that week after week, hustling money as I went. Three months after leaving the Bunker, sitting in a small bar, I hear the door open. Sitting where I was, I could see the door and those that walked in, but they could not see me. Standing in the doorway are the Winchesters. I wait for them to get to the bar with their backs to me before standing up and making my way out of the bar.

Once back at my motel room, I pack up my things, cleaning up, making it as if I was never there. By the time I am finished, I can hear the Impala's unmistakable sound pulling into the lot. I wait to hear a door close than wait longer to be sure before stepping out of my room. I am quickly making my way over to the car. I set my things in the passenger seat before walking over to the office. Once checked out and everything paid, I make my way back to my car. At the same time, my attention was elsewhere. I failed to notice Sam stepping out of his room. Sam doesn't see who I am until I am standing next to my car with my head down. "Y/N?" I hear Sam say to me as he moves to be standing on the other side of my car.

"Hey, Sammy," I say as I look up to him. Only the Sam that I see is not the same Sam that I left at the Bunker. This Sam looks so tired like he hasn't slept in weeks; the dark rings under his eyes are so dark. He even looks like he has lost weight. His clothing seems to hang on him. "I can't believe it, Y/N. Dean and I have been looking for you." When he mentions Dean, I can't help but cringe back, Remembering Dean saying that he should kill me. "Y/N?" When I hear my name, I look up to Sam. I can see the concern in his eyes.

"I can't, Sammy. I'm sorry, I-I have to go." I whisper to him as I pull my car door open. Making a decision quickly, I pull out a piece of paper and write my new number on it for him. 'Don't tell Dean.' I finish off the note before handing it to him. Once in my car, I don't wait to see if Sam reads the message before pulling out of the parking lot. I'm not on the road long before I hear my phone start to ring. Wanting to put more space between us, I don't answer.

I drive for the rest of the day and all through the night. I don't stop until I cross over into Ohio. I stop at the first motel that I come across. Once in my room, I plug in my phone before falling into bed. I am woken up hours later to my phone going off.

Grabbing it off the table, I find that Sam is calling me. "Are you alone?" Are the first words out of my mouth before Sam could even say anything. "Yes." Sam and I talk for hours after that. Mostly it was just me telling Sam that I was okay. That no, I hadn't been hunting. Then he asked what happened the night that I left the Bunker as Dean wouldn't talk about it. So I start from the beginning by telling him everything. The secrets that I had kept from him, why I sold my soul, how I got out of it. What Dean said to me and how it scared me.

Sam fills me in on everything that had happened since I left. I can't believe what Sam tells me how worried Dean got when he realized that I hadn't returned to the Bunker the next day. After a week, Dean was freaking out, calling everyone that we all knew to see if they had seen me or heard from me. At first, I thought it was because he was trying to follow through with what he had said in my room. Sam said that all he kept saying was that he needs to apologize.

Sam and I keep talking for weeks after that first phone call. He keeps his promise and doesn't tell Dean about our conversations. But with each chat I have with Sam, I make my way closer to the Bunker. Sam doesn't know this, but I plan on seeing him again in the next couple of weeks. Sending a text to Sam when I get into town, I tell him where I am staying. He doesn't get back to me right away, but when he does, it doesn't take him long to show up at my hotel room. Once my door is open, I am pulled open into a bone-crushing hug. "It's good to see you too, Sam."

"Same to you, Y/N." When Sam pulls away from me, I can get a good look at Sam. He looks so much better than the last time than I saw him. The dark circles are gone, and he seems like he has been eating better. "You look better, Sammy. How's Dean?" What Sam has been telling me about Dean is making me worry.

"It's not good, Y/N. I don't know the last time he slept. I can't get him to stop looking; it's killing me not to tell him that you are okay." Sam sits on the bed in the room with his head in his hands.

"Do you-Do you think that it would help if I went to the bunker?" I whisper to him as I take a seat next to him. This was my plan when I came here, but to hear Sam talking is making me nervous to see him again. It's been six months since I have been back. "Would you?" I can see the hope in his eyes as he lifts his head and looks at me. Shrugging my shoulders, I stand up and hold my hand out to him, pulling him to his feet. "Let's go." I want to get out of the door before I change my mind. It doesn't take long before we are pulling up to the Bunker and making our way inside. Sam stays back, letting me walk in first. The Bunker is quiet, not much noise to be heard, nothing like it was before when I was living here.

"Sam, where did you go?" I hear a yell for the library turning, I look at Sam, and he smiles at me in pushing me to the library. Dean has his back to me when I first see him again. "It's not Sam," I say to him. I can see him freeze before turning slowly to look at me. "Hi, Dean," I say when I can see his face. His face is pale; he looks so tired and underfed. I don't get the chance to get a good look at him before I have an arm full of Dean. For Dean being so much taller than me, he seems so small in my arms. But what makes me the most surprised is when I can feel tears on my neck. I start to walk backward and out of the room, slowly making our way to his room. Dean doesn't seem to realize that we are even moving. He is shaking in my arms but not making any noise either. Once in his room and laying down on his bed, all he keeps mumbling is 'sorry.' I keep whispering soothing words in his ears, hoping to get him to calm down. Slowly he stops shaking, the tears stop falling, and his breathing gets deeper, letting me know that he has fallen asleep. Not long after he is sleeping, so am I.

I don't know how long we are asleep, but I am woken up to the feeling of a hand on my cheek. Opening my eyes, I find Dean's green ones looking back at me. Looking Dean in the face, he looks better already; the dark marks under his eyes less pronounced his cheeks have color back in them. "You okay?" I ask him as I place my hand over his that is on my face.

"I should be asking you that Y/N," Dean whispers to me, his eyes closing as he says this. "I'm fine, Dean, I promise." I smile at him even though I know that he can't see it. Not knowing what to do, I move his hand off my face; turning my back to him, I sit up. "But I couldn't stay, Dean, not after everything. I-I'm not staying for long. I just thought that I would come and see you and Sammy." I can feel the bed moving behind me as Dean stands from the bed. He moves around the bed and stands in front of me. Dean is turning on the bedside light before kneeling in front of me.

"Y/N, I can never tell you how sorry that I am for what I said. I will never admit this outside of this room, but I was afraid. I sold my soul. I know what could have happened to you, and I don't want that for you. You are so beautiful and kind and everything that is good." Dean looks like he wanted to say more, but he doesn't. He takes a deep breath before standing up and turning his back to me. His shoulders fall.

"Dean, I'm sorry. But I couldn't tell you; I didn't know-how. I want to stay here. But I don't think that I can, not after everything. I know that I am better off on my own..." I don't get to finish my sentence before he turns back to face me, grabs my face in both of his hands, and kisses me. It could be barely be called a kiss more of a dry press of his lips against mine. "Please..." I can feel him whisper against my lips. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, I lean up and kiss him. The kiss is rough, all teeth and tongue saying everything that both of us just couldn't put into words. I feel his hands on my ass before he is lifting me up. I warp my legs around his waist as he turns and presses me against the wall.

We kiss for what feels like hours about cant be more than a couple of minutes. "Don't leave me." I hear Dean whisper as he pulls away from this kiss. His head once again resting on my shoulder. I grip tighter to the short hair at the back of his neck before whispering, "There is nowhere that I would rather be."

With my feet back on the floor and the both of us cling to each other, I know that we have a lot that we need to talk about, and my past is one of them, but maybe this really is where I am meant to be.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please leave a heart and a re-blog. My requests are still open but it might take some time for me to get them out.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #dean winchester #sam and dean #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #Sam Winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader

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goldenraeofsun · 3 years

Text

Good Ideas

1.5k of canon-divergence fluff, now on AO3!

Dean is almost finished with his standard gun cleaning (once a week whether they need it or not) when footsteps approach from outside his bedroom door. Heavier than Eileen but lighter than Sam - must be Cas.

“What an awful day,” Cas sighs as he practically throws himself onto Dean’s prized memory foam mattress. He doesn’t even take his shoes off first, like an animal.

“Hello to you, babe,” Dean says, amused. He raises his head to fully look at Cas, now face planted into his pillow. Dean would like to say it’s unusual to see Cas this drained and frustrated after another shift at the Gas n Sip, but it’s become pretty much standard. And, because not-that-deep-down Dean’s a shitty person who lucked out and got a (fallen) angel to fall for him, he can’t entirely squash the pleased feeling in his gut that flares up every time Cas comes home to him, no matter the circumstances.

“Hello, Dean,” or that’s what Dean assumes Cas is saying, based on their past million and a half conversations over more than a decade.

Dean carefully sets down his colt and pads over to the bed. He takes a seat near Cas’s shins, the mattress slowly but surely dipping as it remembers Dean’s distinctive ass print. “What happened?”

“Humanity is stupid.”

Dean snorts. “Don’t have to tell me twice. What’d humanity do this time?”

Cas turns his head so he can glare balefully down at Dean with one brilliant blue eye. “Todd refilled the soda machine incorrectly. We had to reimburse ten customers who poured the wrong drinks despite the clear signs indicating the buttons were temporarily incorrect.”

“What a disaster,” Dean deadpans.

Cas groans a stream of indistinguishable words that might not even be English - knowing him, he’s probably insulting Todd’s mother ancient Aramaic or something - before he concludes, “It was a very uncomfortable situation. Todd is an imbecile.”

“Want me to kill him for you?” Dean asks casually.

Cas’s whole torso inflates with the depth of his sigh. “No,” he says, but the word is muffled and has zero conviction behind it.

“Come on,” Dean pokes Cas in the thigh. “You were the one who wanted this job in the first place. All the ‘human dignity’ you could choke down and all that crap.”

“I must’ve been mistaken.”

“Whatever you say, man,” Dean says, grinning as Cas rolls over so he’s lying normally on Dean’s bed. “Y’know, you could always do something else. Quit the Gas n Sip.”

“Like what?” Cas asks as he frowns up at the ceiling. “I don’t have much experience except in inventory management and customer service.”

“What about all your angel stuff?”

“I can hardly list ‘former Angel of the Lord’ on my resume,” Cas grumbles.

“You’ve got all those languages crammed in your brain, serious hand-to-hand skills - I could teach you all I know about cars, and you can add that.”

Cas gives a considering grunt.

“Look,” Dean says as he scoots further up the bed so he’s more aligned with Cas’s chest than his knees. “You were the one who was all gung-ho about getting a job to interact with normal people.”

“I needed a better baseline now I’m human because you and Sam are not ‘normal’ by any definition of the word,” Cas sniffs.

“Rude. Anyway, I told you to take things slow. So your first stab back at slumming it with regular folks isn’t going so great. Sometimes these things take a while to settle down,” Dean says, uncomfortably reminded of the time he had to comfort Sammy after three piano lessons didn’t turn him into the next Geoff Nicholls - or Elton John, as Dean had to amend after Sammy shot him a look of complete incomprehension.

“You don’t have to throw yourself into anything,” Dean adds gently to Cas. “We’ve got no big bad waiting out in the wings. It’s okay to take things one step at a time.”

“Because you provide such an excellent model of restraint and forethought,” Cas mutters.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Obviously. You don’t see me jumping back into Leave it to Beaver.”

“Because that’s not what you want,” Cas says, his eyes narrowing. “You said civilian life isn’t for you.”

Dean swallows. He pulls at a wrinkle in the sheets. “You so sure about that?”

Cas props himself up on his elbows, intrigued. “You’re truly considering retiring from hunting?”

Dean glances over at his guns, disassembled and gleaming on his desk. “I’ve been thinking about it. Sammy doesn’t go on many hunts anymore, says it’s more important to teach the next generation of fighters than handling everything by ourselves.”

“A wise thing to say, considering the limitations of the average human lifespan.”

“And you wonder why we never bring you to parties,” Dean says as Cas scowls in return, really only proving Dean’s point. “I’ve been looking into other stuff to do.”

“Like what?”

“Not sure,” he admits. “Sam’s got his Hunter Hogwarts thing going on - I could help Sam out, but the thought of reading and assignments makes me want to throw myself out a window.”

“You do like to be more hands-on,” Cas says diplomatically.

Dean sighs, wistful. “If the Roadhouse was still around, I would’ve kicked ass there. Talking with veterans in the business, passing along intel, throwing out the occasional brawler.”

Cas cocks his head. “Why don’t you rebuild one?”

“What?”

“Another Roadhouse,” Cas says like it’s obvious. “Those hunters Sam is teaching, they will need another meeting point once they’ve completed their training.”

Dean gapes at him, trying not to get his hopes up. He can picture it with alarming clarity, him behind the bar, Cas sitting off to the side, pouring over the books or a translation for one of Sam’s kids.

But this thing with Cas is so new - rescuing Cas from the Empty, telling him haltingly and not in so many words Cas could have what he wanted after all, doing their weird not-dating thing that works for them. Dean can’t be sure they’re on the same page about this.

Cas is technically human, but so many parts of him are still pretty out there in terms of fitting in with normal people stuff. Dean suggested they go on an honest to God date about two weeks after that went down - dinner at a fancy place in Salina. He even looked it up on Yelp. But, naturally, Cas had to ask ahead of time what usually happened on a date - a real date, Dean, because Metatron’s pop culture dump gave me many false impressions of what is normal or healthy for humans.

When Dean embarrassingly couldn’t think of a single thing people did on dates except eat and have sex, Cas went to Sam because apparently there are zero boundaries when it comes to Team Free Will. And Sam, like a total Samantha, said most people talked about their feelings and life goals.

To which Cas turned back to Dean, said those big, I love you, words like they’re nothing and everything, and added his life goal was not dying before spending the rest of his human life with Dean.

The fucker even looked pleased Dean didn’t have to shell out the dough for a fancy steak.

“You have enough connections in the community to round up a decent clientele base,” Cas continues. “Not to mention your reputation, which would go a long way towards drawing hunters you personally haven’t met before.”

Dean clears his throat. “You really think I could do something like that?”

Cas narrows his eyes. “I think you could do anything you set your mind to,” he says with that patented-Cas sincerity that Dean would call bullshit with anyone else. Cas continues, “Twenty-seven percent of restaurants fail in their first year, but I have every confidence in you beating the odds.”

Dean snorts. Even Cas’s Beautiful Mind statistics aren’t enough to bring his mood down.

“And if you need help…” Cas drifts off sheepishly, “I do have requisite experience managing inventory. I cut down on unsellable food by fifteen percent two weeks ago.”

“You’re a goddamn genius,” Dean breathes as he bends over Cas.

Cas smiles up at him. “Would you want to?”

“Would I - ?” Dean breaks off incredulously to kiss him. “Of couse I fucking want to. But you really think it’s a good idea?”

Cas purses his lips. “It was my suggestion in the first place.”

“But maybe you were just spitballing,” Dean hedges. “So if you really think restarting the Roadhouse would be a bad idea, I can take it.”

Cas wraps a hand around the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him closer. “I don’t have bad ideas, Dean,” he murmurs.

That is so blatantly untrue, Dean almost bursts out laughing. But before he can make a sound, Cas’s other hand slides underneath his shirt, his fingers tapping lightly against the buckle of Dean’s belt. Dean raises his head to catch sight of Cas's face, and Cas’s eyes are dark with want.

Alright, so in times like these, Dean can admit Cas can have a good idea or two.

#destiel #destiel ficlet #ficlet #rae writes fic #profoundnet #established relationship #canon divergence

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bbybrainrot · 3 years

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Lincoln Clay SFW A-Z

- written with a chubby reader in mind, but that’s not the main focus at all.

!: possible suggestive themes. nothing too serious tho

A= activites- what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

When Lincoln does have time to spend with you [ Aside from any missions he takes you on] he likes to take you out to do things. He will take you to areas and districts he has already claimed so that it’s safe for the two of you. And then he leaves it up to you. You want dinner? You got it. You wanna go to a show? You got it. You wanna have a night in with just you and him? You can have that too. But he wants to show you off.

B=beauty- what do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Lincoln enjoys his s/o’s shoulders/chest. He thinks that your collar bones are beautiful, and he enjoys a sweetheart neckline. When he sees you during the day, his arms always find their way around your shoulders. And at night in the bed, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and crushes you against his side. His face finds its way to your neck and chest by the end of the night

C=comfort- How would they help their s/o during hard times or when they need it most?

When you come to him with an issue, and it so happens that you ended up getting hurt or threatened. Then he handles the issue right away, he may have other things to do but you are at the top of his list. He will make sure you never have to deal with this issue again. If the issue happened to be more emotional, he may not be as much help. But he will hold you until you pull yourself together and assure you that he has your back.

D= dreams- how do they picture their future with their s/o?

All Lincoln knows is that he wants you for as long as he can keep you. He will continue to fight to keep you, but he knows some day soon his story will come to an end. The thought that his life is not guaranteed is the only reason why your future is iffy.

E= equal- are they the dominant one or are they more passive in your relationship?

As much as my switch ass hates to admit it, he ends up being the more dominant one in the relationship. He leads the way day in and out. Let you know when to go and where. Stands in front of you when you go places, and nudges you behind him a little for most conversations. Checks in on you all the damn time, and does most of the stuff for you when at home, even when you insist you can handle it.

F= Flirting- how often do they flirt or tease their s/o? How smooth are they?

He is flirting with you every chance he gets. Sly little things whisper into your ear when you try making breakfast. Lingering touches when you begin getting dressed for the day. Filthy things said over the dinner table, just to startle you a little. Smoother than he should be. Every move he makes has the ability to lead into a quickie somewhere. A dangerous man indeed.

G= Gratitude- How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o does for them?

Lincoln is very grateful for you. He knows he can be considered scary, he hears it enough from the people on the street. But his heart swells every time he returns to your shared Apartment and all of you are still there. He Doesn't know how he would patch himself up if you were there as well, you keep him clean and healthy after a long day.

H=Honesty- do they have any secret that they keep from their s/o or do they share everything

Lincoln doesn’t talk about the things he did during the war, he will talk about his time, and about the activities he did with donovan. But he leaves out the gross gorey details, he doesn't want to come off as a monster

I=Inspiration- did their s/o change something about them or is it the other way around? (it could be personal issues or just trying new day to day things)

You have reminded him that there is still a little heart within him. When he comes home, he tries to remind himself that this is you. And that you love him. And he tries to put that hardcore, Sal killing mindset away, and just tries to relax

J=jealousy- do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

I don't think that he is given many chances to get jealous. I think he knows that the two of you are in a relationship, and I think that he would have trust for you. If he ever does get jealous, he will bring it up and maybe ask a question. But he really just wants peace of mind not to create problems for the two of you.

K=kiss- how do they kiss? What was the first kiss like?

Well for starters Lincoln alway kisses you when he sees you, and when he's saying goodbye. These kisses are short and chaste, just enough to give a taste of you for good measure. His other kisses are always more intense, his hand squeezing your waist or thread through the hair on the back of your neck, just to hold you in place while he kisses you. Breathes in the scent of you deeply and doesn't let you go until he’s done kissing you

L=Love confession- How did it go down?

He was hurt pretty badly after a mission. It seems like all the adrenaline shots in the world couldn't help his case. He was hurting real bad, but all he could think about was coming to you, and making you the last thing he sees, before his time is up. But your home appeared closer than he thought it would, and before collapsing on your doorstep he knocked on the door. [Ever the gentleman] And After hearing your concerned gaps and the watering of your eyes and felt safe enough to sleep. And when he woke up, the first thing he saw was your form right next to him. He had to let you know how felt, before he never got the chance again

M=Marriage- do they want to get married? How do they propose? Wedding day description?

Marriage may seem like a far off dream for Lincoln. The only thing he sees set in stone for his future is Sal Marcono’s death. I think Under different circumstances, with Sammy still alive, he would be a married man for sure.

N=nicknames- what do they call their s/o?

Puddin

Peaches

Darlin

Honey

O=Obsessed- how protective are they of their s/o? How much are they worried about them?

Lincoln is as protective as one can be. When at your home, he is alway in the same room as you. He may be doing something like reading a file, or fixing his guns but his glance always finds its way back to you. When he is out with you he is your shadow, right behind you or almost flanking you. He worries about you sometimes, when he has to leave the area of your home, he finds himself calling you, or asking Donovan to check up on you.

P=PDA- are they obvious about the relationship? Do they talk a lot about his s/o? Are they okay with affection in front of others?

Lincoln does not just go running around yelling about you. That being said his immediate crew does know about you, sometimes with you coming with him on missions you run into them. Cassandra and Vito are favorable to you, And Burke is.. well.. Burke. PDA in front of the other is rare as when you two are out together there is rarely time for that.

Q= Quirk- some random ability they have in a relationship

Lincoln is just a little touch starved, the human contact he receives is associated with pain and lies. So i think he won't ever need any space, sit next him, on his lap, look over his shoulder when he reads. Just touch him he loves it

R=Romance- how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o smile? Are their ideas rather original or creative?

Lincoln takes any chance he has to be romantic.When he isn’t trying to get things done, he likes to spend his time with you. Dates outside of your home are not a common occurrence, he just doesn’t feel like he can really keep you safe. His romance has more of a catering feel. He shadows you a lot so you find yourself not needing to grab things or reach on your own, he’s already one step ahead of you. He likes to make you laugh by being his cute butterbean self.

S=support- do they push their s/o to do better? Do they believe in them?

lincoln isn't the type of person to get to involved in his S/o’s personal life, i mean we all know he is a busy man. If he does push his S/o to do better it's because he knows it's something his S/o is passionate about. He wants the best for you and believes in you as well, he just isn't overbearing about it and may need to be reminded to express that verbally sometimes.

T=thrill- are they okay with a certain routine or do they need some spice every once in a while?

Lincoln needs routine in his life. He has spent most of it away at war where nothing is ever the same. And when he attempted to rebuild his life the first time, everything went sideways. Knowing exactly what going to happen when he comes to see you is something that make him feel stable, and it is something that he craves

Understanding- how well do they know you? Are they sensitive to your emotions?

If Lincoln has committed to being your S/o then he knows you like the back of his hand. He knows when you have good days and bad ones and is always ready to step in and lend a hand

V=Value- how important is your relationship compared to other things in their life?

This question is a little tricky for Lincoln because he has a job to do . He loves you but he also knows that this is a thing he needs to get done. And in order to do that sometimes his job may have to come before you. In the names of people on his list, you are at the top. If you are not his first thought then you are the second.

W=Wild card-Random Fluff bomb!!

Lincoln finds great pleasure in being helpful towards you any time he can get involved in something you’re doing, he wants to be the one who helped you finish.

X=XOXO- how affectionate are they? Are they a cuddle bug or do they like their space?

Because he can always see you, he tends to be very affectionate with you. In his day to day life he doesn't get much healthy skin to skin contact, so any chance he has to get some love from you he takes it. He is a cuddle bug, when you take a seat on the couch he sits next to you but much closer than he should be. When out in public his arm finds its way around your waist and shoulders on its own.

Yearning- what happenes when they miss you

When he misses you he finds anyway he can to reach out to you and tell you that he loves you. He most likely has a memento that you've given him in the past that he keeps on him for moments like this. Other than that he gets really solemn, he punches a little harder so he can have a reason for you to clean him up.

Zzz- how do you both fall asleep/nap

When sleeping you both are engulfed in each other. His arms wrapped around you pressing you to him as tight a possible. One leg thrown over his side and your arms around his neck keeping him close to your chest. ITs hot and sticky and gross but you can hear his heartbeat and the sound of his breathing and decide that it's worth it.

#lincoln clay #mafia 3 #lincoln clay x reader #claireblep #sfw alphabet

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asociallyawkwardteen · 3 years

Text

FACE - Woosung/Sammy Kim - Drabble

Kim Woosung/Sammy Kim x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Word count: 2,5k

Summary: After a long semester of uni finally comes to an end, y/n and her friends are able to go out again and have fun. A fun night out turns into something very beautiful.

(Also I would like to apologize for any errors, english is not my first langugae so please have mercy on me ^^’)

~Hope you like it!

„Finally!!! We are done with all those stupid exams!!!” your friend Coco shouted once you got back to your apartment from Uni after having your last exam for this semester today.

“Hey, you do know that we have neighbors, right?” you giggled, hitting her in a playful way.

“Yeah, yeah, but aren’t you glad that we finally can relax?? We should celebrate it!”

“Of course I am glad, silly. So how do you want to celebrate surviving another semester?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet but I want to do it tonight! Otherwise it’s not as much of an celebration.”

“Sounds a lot like you want to go drinking, huh?”

She smiled at you sheepishly, “Maybe…”

“Okay so a girls night out it is?”

“Eeeeh…” she started hesitatingly, blushing a little

“what do you mean ‘eeeh’?”

“How about…”

“Wait! You want to ask the cute guy from our history class out, don’t you??” you said wiggling your eyebrows at her

“Heyy!” she punched your arm, “what I was going to say was: we could gather a few of our friends… and maaaaybe also hajoon…” she got quieter during the end mumbling the last word.

You grinned. “Well you can invite some people I guess, still don’t have a lot of friends that aren’t also yours here” you smiled a little embarrassed at yourself hearing that coming out of your mouth after being here for already one and a half year.

“Oh just not too many please… I’d like to still keep the circle small tonight.” you added

“Sure thing she said, sitting down on the couch and already looking through her phone for the right people”

Some time passed and you used it well by taking a nap, seemed like the best idea since you’re probably gonna be out the whole night. However, your peaceful slumber was rudely interrupted by Coco barging in your room exclaiming that she finally had the perfect selection of people.

You mumbled a half awake “Shoot” and nuzzled your head back into your pillow.

“Okay so, since we want a rather small group this time, I made sure that I selected them very carefully!” She listed a few of your friend group to which you just nodded to, still half asleep.

“And-I-also-might-have-asked-Hajoon-if-he-was-free-and-he-is-joining-us!!” She quickly spat out hiding her face in her hands squealing like a little kid.

You grinned at her, “glad you finally had the guts to ask him out!”

“That’s not all thought, I thought that since I would be a little occupied with hajoon tonight I though I would invite someone for you too! BUT- Please don’t hit me now okay!”

You slowly opened your eyes looking at her kinda pissed already. “And who would that someone be?”

“Sammy…” she mumbled

“HUH?!?!” now it was really over with your beauty sleep, you shot up in your bed looking at her in disbelief. “Sammy?, you… mean Sammy Kim?? Your freind from highschool, who I had nothing but awkward interaction with since I met him last year?”

“Awkward Interactions?” she giggled, “ if that’s what you call love at first sight but no clue how to handle it, yeah sure you guys had some AwKwArD InTeRaCtIoNs. And now don’t act like I didn’t realize how you two were looking at each other that night, plus how often you too hung out to sTuDy.”

“No No No, he really helped me out with my photography project back then, and you promised me that we would never speak of that night again!” Just as you finished your sentence Coco’s phone made a ding. She opened it and grinned once again.

“Oh come on you both have the hots for each other but your are both to scared to admit it and I like the effect you have on each other, you both are like creative chargers for one another. I’ve yet to see you procrastinate when he is around and you have heard his music improving yourself, do you think that comes just out of nowhere? Huh? Whatever he just texted that he is coming tonight so this discussion is over!”

You looked at her with wide eyes and your heart skipping a beat. You definitely have a crush on Sammy and yeah maybe that happened the first time you met him BUT you were just never really the relationship type of girl, plus you didn’t plan on staying in Korea after Uni so you didn’t want to get to attached to something/someone plus you liked things the way they were up until said night. New Years Eve Party to be exact. You and Coco had a party at the Apartment and most of your friends were wasted at 1am already and Sammy and You also had quite a bit to drink, one thing led to another and you only remember waking up next to him in your bed, all cuddled up together with and hunch of what could have happened. Luckily you two were up before everyone else thinking nobody noticed but of course Coco knew the second she looked at you once she woke up. Sammy had to leave quickly that day because of some issues with brother, who wanted to visit him on New Year’s. Ever since than you two tried to keep it casual by not addressing it at all and kind of ignoring each other and your feelings for one another a bit. Until now apparently.

You sighed falling back into your cozy bed once Coco left your room.

~Time skip~

You pushed the thoughts of the night ahead to the side -mostly for Coco since she was worried that you were actually mad at her.

To proof her wrong you put on a smile and you two started to get ready together while blasting music and starting to pre drink a bit. It felt so good though to finally have the time to go out with some friends again after all that studying and stress with exams, just getting ready with your roommate was already so much fun.

Soon your uber came and you were on your way to the club where Coco told the others to meet you. You saw Sammy already when from the car, and your heart stopped a beat. He was just leaning against the wall, headphones in and on his phone. You took a second to admire him before the car came to a spot where you guys could get out. Coco saw him as well form where you two were and tried to scare him since he wasn’t aware of his surroundings, but she failed.

You greeted Sammy with a warm hug, thinking that he would probably feel your fast heartbeat but you always hugged him to say hello and you didn’t want to make things more weird. To your surprise you could feel his heartbeat as well, which weirdly calmed you down a bit.

You too still kept a bit of a distance for now just making things seem “casual”, clearly aware of the tension between the two of you. You got a table at your favorite club and soon drinks started to flow. Your group had an awesome time dancing, drinking, catching up and just enjoying your freedom for now

The DJ was great and constantly playing what you wanted, a couple hours went by and your friend group started to get smaller, one after the other leaving with someone they flirted with for about half an hour. Oh and Coco was all tangled up with Hajoon just as you both expected. You didn’t care about all of that too much just enjoying yourself on the dance floor and chatting a bit with Sammy while still continuously ordering drinks.

Of course some dudes tried to hit on you especially while you were dancing, overflowing with confidence but you just told them to get lost, you were really not interested in any of them. You were really just here to have fun but as you caught a glimpse of the way Sammy was watching your every move you smiled a bit to yourself.

You both were a bit buzzed by now, it being around 1:30am and most of your friends, well actually all of them already gone. The club was still buzzing and you were in no way ready to leave yet, neither was Sammy. It may seem a bit boring to just stand at a table watching a girl dance for hours, only taking breaks to pee or take another shot, not for him tho. Watching your body float over that dancefloor, never missing a single beat, smiling with closed eyes. And every time you were sick of a song you made your way over to him smiling with sparkling eyes in which he could get lost in forever. Every time you would come over you two had a shot or two and every time you went back on the dancefloor you tried to convince him to come with you. He came with once or twice, wanting to stay there with you the whole night just being weightless together but he knew that if he kept dancing with you and already being a bit drunk, he would want more and he wasn’t sure if you were okay with that so he stayed at the table.

At around 3am your feet started to hurt from all the dancing in your heels and you were feeling pretty dizzy, still not wanting to stop dirinking. Sammy knew by the way you came back to him that you were ready to leave and get some food somewhere.

“Sammy…! Wanna grab a bite somewhere?!” you shouted in his ear hoping he would understand with all the loud music and people talking.

To be completely honest he didn’t understand anything over the loud music and his own spinning head but he knew what you wanted so he just nodded and you two left. Once you stepped out of the club you both took a deep breath an looked at each other for a second. In this moment the only thing you wanted to do was kiss him, get lost in his touch and never wake up from it again but instead you just smiled at him and repeatedly said that you were hungry.

Sammy was in the same position, he knew that soon he would not be able to contain himself if you keep looking at him with those intense eyes of yours. He laughed at you being a whiny baby and took your hand to lead you to your guys’ favorite 4am drunk-food place. You both knew that he initially just wanted to yank you a bit in the direction you had to go yet you kept walking hands interlocked up until you got to the food place. It just felt so natural that none of you wanted to let go, so you kept it that way for a few moments longer.

You two kept chatting a bit while enjoying your food. For the few other people in the restaurant you two just looked like a regular couple acting all cute together, feeding each other and giggling while still ordering a few drinks. The owner of the restaurant actually thought you two were so cute that she gave you another soju-bottle for free, “For the lovebirds” she said as she put a the bottle down and winked at you.

You looked at each other with big eyes and you started to giggle since you were still pretty drunk. You took the soju with you and left the restaurant after paying. You were not ready to leave one another yet but you remember that Sammy had that great view from his apartment rooftop so you went there, on the way your hands found each other again and you just walked in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

You set up everything and settled down on the roof with your soju and a blanket just starring into nothing. Soon the two of you were cuddled up listening to each other’s breath.

You sighed “I missed this, you know?”

“Missed what?” he tried playing dumb

“This.. you… us..” you mumbled into his chest trying to hide your blushing

“Me too” he said while running his hands through your hair.

You lifted your head to look at him in the dim light just taking in his features bit by bit. He just smiled at you, slowly closing his eyes, like a cat would do. Carefully you sat up a bit and firmly pressed your lips on his. He smiled into the kiss. It was a very sweet delicate kiss, maybe even innocent, savoring every little moment of a innocent yet so powerful love. You two dragged the kiss as long as your lungs would allow it, after that you quickly nuzzled your head into his warm chest again.

“We should head inside it’s really getting cold and I don’t want you to get sick…” he softly whispered

You nodded and you packed your things to move into the apartment. It was so much warmer and just as cozy as you remembered it. You let out a yawn, stretching your body, Sammy saw his chance and wrapped his arms around you from behind burring his head in your neck. “Tired?” he asked softly.

“yeah… a bit…”

“then let’s go to bed then, shall we?” he asked while already heading towards the bedroom. He gave you his favorite shirt and shorts to sleep in, knowing you would have asked for them sooner or later, also he loved the way they looked on you. You excused yourself to the bathroom to change.

Once you locked the door behind you, you started to freak out silently a bit but on the other hand, everything just felt so right, Your bodies and minds just fit perfectly together and you were kind of mad at yourself for wanting to cut this awesome connection after it got a bit more serious. You washed you face, changed into the clothes he gave you and took a deep breath before heading back to the bedroom.

Sammy was already all cuddled up and his room looked even more comfortable with the delicate fairy-lights you gifted him last Christmas. You crawled next to him getting comfortable. He gave you another soft kiss, but you wanted more. You started to intensify it to which he gave in, you were hungry for him the whole night already so you were more than eager letting your hand slowly travel over his body an to the hem of his boxers but suddenly he grabbed your hand. A bit perplex you broke the kiss and looked at him confused.

“did... did I do something wrong?” you asked quietly “Do you not want to?”

“you didn’t do anything wrong y/n…” he gave you a peck “It’s just, the last time we did it too quickly and lost each other for a few months… And I don’t want to lose you… this... us again... is… is it okay if we just fall asleep in each other’s arms for now?”

You started to tear up a bit at his words, this was the first time he actually told you how he really felt -probably a bit because of the alcohol too but you didn’t mind that- and it made you realize how you felt as well, so you nodded stealing one last kiss before cuddling up with him and slowly drifting of to sleep while listening to his heartbeat.

~To be continued~

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