#protective!dean

[supernaturalfreewill]

Words: 5,373 Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warnings: injury, assault (no description of any sexual violence though it is implied this may be the motive for the assault), attempted abduction, angsssst, Protective!Dean Summary: Dean is happy to see he's getting a call from you, but he can tell from the tone of your voice when he answers that something is seriously wrong. Requested by: Anonymous! Thanks for the request! I hope you love it! Hurt/comfort can be just the right thing sometimes, and Winchesters on the war path for someone they love is the icing on the cake.

Dean smiled at the name that lit up his phone screen. “Y/N, hey,” he said. But the smile on his face died when he heard your voice.

“Dean?”

There was a pause as his stomach seemed to drop through the floor. “Yeah, hey… what’s going on? Are you alright?”

Another pause, on your end this time. “I don’t—I don’t know how to—are—are you busy?”

He glanced at the pile of file folders and stacks of books on the table in front of him but only stood up and turned away from it. “No. No, I’m not busy. What do you need? What’s going on?”

Your voice shook when you answered. “Can you get here? Please?”

Something was terrifyingly wrong. Dean’s teeth clenched. “I’m on my way now. Y/N—are you safe?”

He heard only your shaky breath for a moment. “I am now. I’m safe now. I’m safe now…” You were almost chanting it to yourself.

“Where are you? Are you at home?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there in an hour,” he said into the phone. “Do you want to stay on the line with me?”

There was a long pause as you thought about how to answer that question but you eventually decided. “No. No… just—just drive safely and get here when you can.”

“Okay. I’ll be there as fast as I can. I promise. I’m on my way. Just—stay safe, alright? I’ll be there soon.” His stomach was churning with nerves, rolling with worry and fear. As he hung up the phone, his apprehension and concern only seemed to grow. What the hell was going on?

_ _ _ _ _ _

The tires of the Impala squealed as he yanked the wheel to turn the car into your driveway. It hadn’t even come to a complete stop when he threw it into park, turned the key to off, and bolted out the door. Your house was dark ahead and the curtains were drawn. The whole place looked and felt eerie and unsettling. He took the steps two at a time and stopped on the front mat, rapping his knuckles loudly on the door.

He shifted anxiously and strained his hearing, glancing back over his shoulder and surveying the surroundings as any good hunter does. His jaw clenched as he looked back at the closed front door. He knocked again, more loudly and more sustained. “Y/N?”

The fear in his chest seemed to expand in a bubble that was pushing up on his lungs, thrusting the air out of them more and more with every passing second that you didn’t appear. “Y/N? It’s Dean!” He knocked again one more time and made up his mind that if you didn’t answer this time, he was breaking down the fucking door and—

Inside, you startled in your seat on the edge of your couch. You were surprised to look about yourself and realize that night had fallen. There was an insistent knocking on your front door and then you heard a familiar voice. You gasped and forced yourself onto your feet, clicking on a lamp as you rushed to the entryway. “Dean?” you called out, your hands so shaky that you fumbled with the chain and locks.

“Oh, thank God,” you heard him murmur on the other side of the door. “I was about to bust your door in!”

You pulled it open slightly and peered out at him through the small space, flicking on the porch light as you made sure it was really him. Assured that it was and that he was alone and nothing strange was going on, you stepped back and swung the door open wide. The light from the porch flooded in through the open door and illuminated your figure. You were backlit by only a small lamp inside. Dean’s eyes whirred over you, taking note of the slightly asymmetrical way you were standing and glaring swelling and bruising on your face, along with several small cuts. Even in the dim light, it was apparent that you were a bit battered. He watched as you raised a shaky hand to brush some hair away from your forehead.

“C—come in,” you managed, stepping aside to let him pass.

His eyes stayed fixed on you as long as they could while he slipped in. He rounded immediately on the rug and watched as you hastily shut and relocked the front door. Your hand was shaking so badly you were struggling to put the security chain back on. He stepped forward and his hand gently landed over the back of yours, closing lightly over your fingers. “I’ll get it,” he said, his green eyes wandering over your face, colored more deeply with concern. A deep cavern grew between his eyebrows as he again noted the injuries that seemed stark on your face even in the dim light. “Why don’t you go sit down? I’ll put some water on for tea and then you can tell me what’s—what’s going on.” The slightly gruff edge to his deep voice was more pronounced in his concern, but you found it comforting.

You drew in a shallow breath and nodded. You felt almost in a daze and were struggling not to go to pieces immediately at the sight of him. Dean was there. You were truly safe. Nothing would happen to you while he was around. You were okay… You were okay…

You drifted over to the couch and sat again in the same spot you must have been frozen in for at least an hour and a half after you’d called him. You glanced up to watch him in the new glow of the kitchen, filling your kettle and setting it on the stove. He began opening cabinets, searching for your tea, and finally found it in the pantry. He set out two mugs and a box of tea bags before looking over and catching your eyes.

You were mostly cloaked in shadow now and Dean strode over and clicked on a couple more lights so he could see you properly. You sat rigidly still on the couch and he finally came to sit down on the coffee table across from you. He gulped as he studied you in the full light now and took stock of the extent of your injuries. Your face was bruised in deep reds and purples and swollen over one of your eyes and along your jawline. He could tell that the little nicks and cuts you had scattered over your skin hadn’t been tended to. They were still messy and thickly clotted and your skin was stained with the rusty smears of dried blood. His brow furrowed more deeply over his eyes. “Y/N. Can you tell me what happened?”

A shudder ran through your body involuntarily. You couldn’t seem to find your voice, your words.

“Hey—it’s alright,” Dean said softly. “Just take your time.”

You pressed your hands over your face, squeezing your eyes shut, and trying to steady yourself. Dean had never seen you like this. Never. Not after all the hunts that had gone slightly more than sideways, not after a car accident that put you in the hospital, not after you lost people close to you—he’d never seen you this scared, this shaken. You forced yourself to take a few deep breaths and you finally seemed to dislodge what felt like a hot stone stuck high in your throat. You lowered your hands and nodded, looking up at Dean who was watching you closely with worry you could almost feel radiating from him.

“I—I tracked down this hunt. I was just searching the papers, you know? I found something strange, a pattern, and I decided to go take a look, poke around a little. I was pretty sure it was a vengeful spirit. Should have been an easy case. It was in a small town. I pulled into the—”

At that moment, the tea kettle screamed in the kitchen and you jumped so much you nearly fell off the couch.

“Shit!” Dean exclaimed, jumping up. “Sorry! I’ve got it. Just the kettle. I got it…” He rushed into the kitchen and hastily pushed the kettle off the burner. Your heart was pounding in your throat and you pressed a hand over your chest and tried to slow down your breathing. Dean was glancing between you on the couch and the cups in front of him he was pouring boiling water into them. His stomach had formed a tight knot and he found himself keyed up and ready for a fight despite not even knowing what had happened to you yet. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeply wrong and deeply unusual had happened. He couldn’t explain it, didn’t understand it, but he knew it in his gut.

He carefully came back to sit with you, setting the two mugs of steaming tea down on the coffee table and taking a seat beside you on the couch this time. “It’s, uhh—chamomile,” he said. “It’s supposed to be calming, I guess. I don’t know,” he said, forcing a half-smile. “Tea is more Sammy’s thing. They pretty much all seem the same to me.”

You nodded and managed to give him a weak smile, though it was tight and didn’t ease the drawn look around your eyes. “Thanks,” you murmured, reaching for the mug. The fabric of your sweatshirt pulled upwards as you grabbed the handle and Dean’s heart jolted. There were deep bruises on your wrist.

His hand shot out and gently grabbed hold of your arm, just above the marks that clearly looked as if someone had grabbed you. “Y/N—this isn’t from a vengeful spirit,” he said.

You relinquished your hold on the handle of the mug and Dean felt you start trembling beneath his hands again. Your bottom lip was quivering as he searched your face for answers.

Gulping, he pushed up the other sleeve of your sweatshirt to see more bruising on your other wrist. His eyes flew to meet yours and flickered between them. “Who did this to you?”

That was it. You couldn’t hold it in any longer and you absolutely crumbled to pieces, falling into him.

Dean’s chest ached and he wrapped his arms around you and pressed you against him securely, your head falling into the crook of his neck. “Hey—it’s okay. You’re alright. I’ve got you… I’ve got you.” He smoothed a hand over your hair, his heart still aching even while rage boiled in his stomach. He held you until your shuddering breaths slowed and the shaking of your shoulders was almost gone. Still, you clung onto him. “It’s alright. You’re safe.” You could feel the reverberation of his words in his chest and it was grounding. Finally, he gripped your shoulders gently and pulled back to look at you more closely. That’s when he saw the marks on your neck too, hidden previously by the collar and hood of your sweatshirt. His teeth clenched and the muscle in his jaw tensed. “If you can, tell me who did this to you.” His prodding was calm and cautious as you regained your composure.

You nodded and mopped at your face with your sleeve. “I was at the bar to try to talk to some of the locals, get some info on the case. There was this guy there, another patron, and he kept glancing at me. I finally realized he looked familiar and he’d obviously recognized me from somewhere but I couldn’t place him. He eventually came over. He was a hunter. We’d met at that thing after Brett’s wake, you know, in Wyoming?”

Dean nodded. He remembered hearing about it, but he and Sam hadn’t gone.

“Anyway, he was there for the same case. He asked if we could work it together. It seemed easy enough—salt and burn,” you said. You reached for your mug of tea again and this time wrapped your hands around it to soak up the warmth. They felt so cold. In fact, you hadn’t been able to feel warm since the whole thing had happened… You went on, staring down into the amber color of your tea. “The case was simple. We took care of it no problem once we figured out the real identity of the spirit and then he asked if I wanted to go grab a bite to eat and a beer and it sounded good after finishing things up so I agreed... He was just friendly. It seemed fine and…” You trailed off and Dean watched you squeeze your eyes shut again. “So stupid…” you muttered to yourself. “I didn’t even really know him. I shouldn’t have—"

“Whoa, whoa. Hey—none of this is your fault. Okay? Don’t do that. You should be able to be safe just getting a beer out somewhere. Don’t blame yourself. I don’t even know what happened yet but I know that none of it is your fault. Okay?”

And he said it with such forcefulness that you believed him. You met his green eyes again, so concerned and intent on you, and yours filled with tears as you managed to nod. You blinked them away. “We—we had burgers and a couple beers and then we went out to the parking lot and I was getting in my car and he just—suddenly he just attacked me. He was—he—” Your voice broke and Dean pulled you in against him again tightly. You were trembling under his hands.

You tucked yourself against his chest and Dean’s chin came to rest on the top of your head, his arms around you, smoothing over your back comfortingly. Inside, he was burning up with rage. “It’s okay… you’re okay.”

“I fought him,” you managed finally, still not separating from Dean, speaking almost into his chest. “He was trying to get me to his car and I just fought him as much as I could but he was so strong and he was so much bigger than me. He had me down on the ground. I was trying to hit him, push him off, and then he had my wrists, and then next thing I knew his hands were on my neck and I—” You pulled back abruptly and looked up into Dean’s handsome face. “I had my pocket knife. Somehow, I don’t know how, but I got it out and I stabbed him in the fucking groin. That’s how I got him off me.”

Dean’s brow furrowed more deeply, one of his hands was still gently gripping your upper arm. He clasped your face with the other, his eyes whirring over your injuries. His thumb moved tenderly over your cheek, thanking God or whatever fucking entity was listening that you’d escaped when you did. He didn’t have to guess at the guy’s intentions… and it swelled a toxic mire of fury inside him. “You did the right thing. You did exactly what you should have. Hell, you could have killed him and it would have been completely justified. It’s okay.” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze and brushed some of your hair away from your face. “Listen, we’re gonna get you patched up, alright? And then I’m gonna figure out how take care of this. You won’t have to worry about him. What’s this asshole’s name?”

You gulped and your tongue felt suddenly dry, sticking to the roof of your mouth. “Evan Lewis.” Just speaking his name made you feel like you were going to be sick.

Dean nodded. “I’ve heard the name before… can’t say I remember him though.” He sighed heavily. The fact that this pervert, this goddamn douchebag, was a member of the hunting community made things a thousand times worse. He was supposed to be fucking helping people. Instead, he’d used being a hunter to gain your trust and take advantage of it… “Where’s your first aid kit?” Dean asked, pushing down his anger for the moment.

You mopped at a tear that had escaped and run down your cheek. “In the linen closet in the bathroom.”

“Alright. I’ll be right back, okay? We’ll get you fixed up as best we can.”

You didn’t want to break from him completely, but with the reassurance he wouldn’t be gone for more than a minute, you nodded.

Dean got up and disappeared down the hall and into the bathroom. He immediately pulled out his phone and hit Sam’s name. Sam answered on the second ring.

“Dean, hey. Where are you? I’m back at the bunker and the Impala is gone. What’s going on?”

“Sam, Y/N called me. I’m with her now. She—she’s in rough shape. She was attacked,” Dean growled into the phone. Sam could hear his fury in the tension in his voice.

“What? What do you mean attacked? Is she okay? Like, a hunt gone wrong or—”

“You could say that.” Dean’s free hand clenched into a fist involuntarily. “But no, it wasn’t what she was hunting. It was a person.” There was a beat of silence on the other end. “Someone attacked her? What—why? Dean, what the hell is going on?”

“Just listen, Sam, it’s worse, alright? The guy who did this is in our community. He’s a hunter.”

Another long pause as Sam tried to process exactly what his brother was saying. “Is she okay?”

Dean sighed heavily into the phone. “She’s—she’s alright. Or she will be. She’s beat up and obviously traumatized but she saved her own ass. She said she stabbed the guy in the groin.”

Another moment of silence and a heavy sigh from Sam on the other end. Dean could picture him pacing in the bunker. “Good.”

“Listen, have you ever heard of a hunter named Evan Lewis?” Dean asked.

“Uhh,” Sam wracked his brain. “It sounds vaguely familiar… Maybe I’ve met him at some hunter thing? I’m not sure.”

“Well, he’s the lowlife who attacked her. I need you to call Jody, Donna, Garth, whoever and just get the word out that we’re looking for this guy and that he’s bad news. And I need you on this. I don’t care about anything else until this guy is taken care of.” Dean rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face.

“Yeah, agreed,” Sam said hurriedly. “I’m on it. Just make sure she’s okay and—tell her I wish I was there too.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, finally turning to open the closet door in the bathroom and grab the first aid kit out. “I will.” He sighed again. “Damn,” he breathed. “We could really use Cas right now to get this guy and—I don’t know, drop him off in North Korea or something.”

Sam let out a wry laugh. “That’d be good. I guess we’ll have to content ourselves with beating the crap out of him and getting him ostracized by the community.”

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. “I hate this… These guys don’t just quit. He’s going to pull this shit again.”

“Yeah, but what are our options here? We can’t kill him. The cops aren’t really a solution… Even if Y/N goes through the trauma of reporting the assault and attempted… uhh—reporting it, say he is charged, he isn’t going to stay locked up for long.”

Dean sighed weightily again. “I know. There’s no good solution here…”

“Hmm,” Sam hummed thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Well… what if we just blast him online?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, send out warnings all over social media, dating sites… Maybe that way we could at least prevent someone from ending up in the same situation. Hell, I could throw together a website in no time.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “Do it. With creeps like this, once we start putting it out there, other people might come forward too. Look—I gotta go. I need to help get Y/N patched up. I’ll check in with you later.”

“Alright. Give her a hug for me,” Sam said, his voice woven with sadness and anger in the same way Dean’s was.

“Dean?” Your voice echoed down the hall to him.

“Yeah. I will. I gotta go, Sammy.” He hung up and rushed back with the first aid kit in hand, sinking down across from you again on the coffee table, his knees cocked out to fit around yours. Your eyes were searching his face.

“Did I hear you talking to someone?” you asked.

Dean set the kit down and opened it, laying out items he would need to get you taken care of. He nodded. “Yeah. I gave Sam a call…” he said, hazarding a glance at your face to gauge your reaction. “I told him vaguely what was going on.”

“Oh,” you said, nodding, cupping your hands more tightly around your warm mug.

Dean’s green eyes, dark under his heavy brow, flickered between yours. “I hope that’s okay. I—I wanted to get some people on this guy right away.”

You nodded again and nervously chewed on your bottom lip. “Yeah. Yeah…”

“He says he’s sorry. And that he wishes he was here too. But we’re gonna take care of this, okay?” Dean’s deep voice had an extra layer of gravel to it and it seemed to reassure you. He was here, solid in front of you, and you were safe. Nothing bad was going to happen to you with Dean around.

“Thanks,” you managed softly.

Dean pulled in a deep breath and then tore open an alcohol wipe. “I’m just gonna clean up those cuts a bit. You might want to close your eyes so the alcohol doesn’t irritate them.” He scooted forward on the coffee table and your eyes shut, revealing the thick, dark fray of your lashes to him. He dabbed at a cut near your hairline first, as tenderly as he could while still lifting away the smeared, dry blood. “This hurt?” he asked you, pausing for your answer.

“No,” you breathed, your voice a little weak as it caught in your throat.

Dean returned to his ministrations, his fingers so light and gentle you hardly felt it until the alcohol stung. He chased a dried smear of blood down your cheek and over your jaw onto your neck. The coolness of the evaporating alcohol raised goosebumps on your skin and a shiver ran up your back. You huddled more deeply in your sweatshirt.

Dean gulped. “You alright?”

Your eyes opened again and you nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

He nodded and his finger landed lightly under your chin, tipping your face ever so gently this way and that as he looked you over again. He sighed when he realized he’d done all he could, but his hand slid along your jawline and he lightly stroked your cheek, a pained look overtaking his face. “I’m so fucking sorry this happened to you.” You could hear the ache in his voice.

“I know. Thank you, for being here,” you said.

“Is there anything else I can do? Anything. Do you need some ice for anything? I mean—how—how’s the rest of you?” he asked, seized by a sudden worry that you were concealing some injury that was much worse. “Y/N, do you need to go to the hospital for anything?”

You shook your head. “No. No… I’m just bruised up is all. I’m—I’m just tired,” you said, tears filling your eyes suddenly. “Sorry—” you croaked, your throat tightening. You blinked them away, wanting to hide your face behind your hands again. “I’m just so drained…”

“Hey—” Dean took your hand in his and pulled it away from your face. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. You want to try and get some rest? What can I do? Anything. Just ask.”

You bit your bottom lip as you stared at him. God, you looked so vulnerable. It was making Dean’s heart break. He was used to seeing you as a vibrant, bright light—a stong, badass hunter. This had him completely unbalanced in the worst way.

“Can—would you come lay with me? I just don’t want to be alone,” you asked, feeling your cheeks flush even at the request.

“Of course. Come on,” he said, tilting his head toward the hall which led back to your bedroom.

You stood gingerly, and he helped you to your feet. Dean ghosted behind you as you flipped a small lamp on in your room and climbed under the covers. He settled himself down against the headboard on the other side of your bed.

Tucking a hand in against your neck, you looked up at him. “Can I ask you for one more thing?” you said, your voice coming out in a whisper.

He nodded, meeting your eyes. “Anything.”

“Would you mind—holding me for a while?” Your voice broke in the middle of the sentence and Dean felt the ache in his chest expand. “I just—I can’t shake the feeling that he’s suddenly going to appear out of nowhere. I know it’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid.” He toed off his boots and threw the covers back, settling himself in the middle of the bed. “Come here.” He nudged his head to tell you to move into him and you did so eagerly. Dean’s arms closed around you as you tucked yourself in against him, your head coming to rest in the crook of his neck. “You’re okay. I’ve got you…” He stroked your hair and relished the feeling of you safe beneath his hands. He kissed the top of your head and you settled in against him more heavily, breathing in a deep breath and letting it out in the first relaxed sigh he’d heard since he’d pounded on your door. “I’ve got you,” he hummed one more time.

“Thank you for being here,” you said.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. This is right where I want to be.”

To the surprise of both of you, you managed to each drift off shortly after and you didn’t wake until morning.

_ _ _ _ _ _

It was an insistent buzzing that roused both of you. You stirred against Dean and he was sorry to have to scoot away from you to grab his phone off the side table.

“Sorry,” he murmured, sleep still coloring the tone of his voice. “I should have turned it off.”

You pushed yourself up on your palm and shook your head. “No. It’s okay. It might be something important.”

Dean sat up and glanced at the name lighting up the screen. “It’s Sam,” he told you. “Hello?”

“Hey. How’s Y/N doing?”

Dean glanced sideways at you. He could still see the bruising but at least the swelling had gone down some. “As good as expected. Managed to get some sleep though, so that’s good. What’s up?”

“Right… Sorry to call so early but I’ve got an update. I had Garth do some calling around. I guess this guy talked to another hunter and told them he got injured in a hunt, had to go to the ER, and is now heading home since he’s benched for a while. He’s in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma. I’m gonna to head there now and track him down and—”

“—beat the ever-loving shit out of him?” Dean finished.

“Something like that,” Sam said. “I got the word out to everyone too, and I put a page up online. If anybody searches this guy’s name, it’ll be the first thing they find.”

“Good,” Dean said, climbing off the bed and pacing the length of the room. Your eyes followed his broad shoulders. “I’ll meet you there.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “…Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Sam asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Dean asked a little abruptly.

“Well… shouldn’t you stay with Y/N? And—I’m a little worried you’ll kill the guy,” Sam admitted.

Dean scoffed. “That’d be letting him get off easy. No. Don’t worry about it. And—” he glanced back over at you where you were sitting up in the bed, hair tousled from sleep. “—I’ll have Y/N head to the bunker. She’ll be safe there.”

“Alright. As long as she’s okay with it that’s probably a good idea. And I would be glad for the back-up.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “And I’ll be glad to punch his face in. I’ll call you on the way.” Dean hung up and met your eyes. His heart jumped and then he felt a deep ache between his lungs. He sunk back down on the bed beside you. You looked a little worried but also eager for the update. “Do you think you’d be okay heading to the bunker on your own and waiting for me and Sam there?”

You thought about it for a moment and then nodded. There was no safer place for you to be, unless it was with Sam and Dean beside you. “Yeah. I think so.”

“If you’re not sure, I can come with you. I’m sure Sam can handle this guy on his own if he needs to,” Dean said, his brow furrowing heavily over his green eyes. “Just say the word and I’ll stay with you.”

“Thank you, Dean. But I’ll be okay. Especially knowing the two of you are going after him,” you said. “And—thank you for coming and staying here with me last night. I don’t know—what I would have done without you. Not sleep, that’s for sure,” you said with a wry laugh. “Thanks.”

Dean nodded. “Like I said, no need to thank me.” He gently touched your arm. “This whole thing is gonna be taken care of real soon. I promise.” He gulped, a little nervous suddenly. “And—you should know that nobody deserves this, but especially not you. You’re—you deserve only the best things.” In that moment, he wanted more than anything to kiss the soft pout of your mouth and the bruise on your jawline and the curve of your cheekbone, but the timing was all wrong. Instead, he went about doing his best to make sure you were okay and would stay that way. “I mean, how many times have you been there for me and Sam? Let us take care of this and don’t think about this asshole for another second.”

You managed a smile for him. “If he’s heard that the Winchester brothers are coming after him, he’s probably scared shitless. That’s almost punishment enough.”

Dean stood again, and his grim and furious expression returned. “No. It isn’t.” His fists clenched. “Alright. I’ll let you pack a bag and then we’ll get out of here. You’re sure you’re okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you said with another smile. “I am now. Thanks to you.”

“I’ll call you as soon as it’s over and I’ll be racing the Impala to get back to the bunker. Just stay safe, alright?”

You sighed, a fluttering starting suddenly in your stomach. “I’ll be there.”

Dean gave you a soft, charming half-smile. “That’s all the motivation I need to get home. And—you can stay as long as you want. I'd—uhh... we'd love to have you.”

In the worst moments, the most terrifying, the most awful, the most trying, you could always count on Dean, and he could always count on you. That’s how it had been since you’d met him, and that’s how it would always be. But you also knew, you could count on him in the best times, and you were hoping for many more of those once this was behind you.

#dean winchester x reader #protective!dean #dean winchester one shot #spn fics #supernatural

[zepskies]

Sharing Is Caring (II)

Pairing: Dean W. x Female Reader 

Summary: Navigating a new relationship means learning how to share a bed with Dean. [3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.]

Word Count: 900 Warnings: Fluff!~

Part 2: Dean

You expelled a tired sigh as you pulled back the covers and got into bed—Dean’s bed. It was new, and still a little strange to sleep in his room more consistently than your own in the bunker. 

But he’d cleared a drawer in the bathroom and a nightstand for some of your things. The thought made you smile, along with Dean himself as he stepped out of the bathroom freshly showered and shaved. He was dressed in a simple shirt and sleep pants, bare-footed. 

You liked that you got to see him this way: out of his hunter layers, softer, and comfortable with you. 

He approached the bed and tsked at you, crossing his arms. You raised a brow at him.

“What?” 

“First of all, you’re on my side,” Dean said.

He waggled a finger at you, gesturing to move over. You gave him a flat look.

“I cleared the nightstand on the left for you,” he added. 

“I appreciate that,” you replied, “but I like it over here on the right.”

“Well, so do I. And that happens to be my side.”

Dean could be stubborn about the most random things. You two hadn’t been together long (officially, that is). And though you thought you’d known him pretty well, you were starting to learn more and more about the little things that could hotwire his brain.  

“You didn’t have a side before,” you accused. “I’ve seen you twisted up and spread-eagled in the middle of the bed like a damn starfish.”

He gave you a look of annoyance crossed with denial. 

“Yeah, well. My bed my rules, sweetheart.” Dean moved in behind you and bodily rolled you over to what he deemed as your side. You yelped and shot him an incredulous look over your shoulder.

But you fought back and grappled with him, holding onto his arms and taking most of the blankets and sheets with you as he pushed you over. 

“Hey! This is basically our bed now. I think I should get some say,” you said through rounds of giggles. A smirk crossed Dean’s face. 

But he soon grunted as a pillow smacked him in the face. “Hey!” 

You laughed and tried wriggling out of his grip. It didn’t do much good; Dean was stronger than you even on your best day, but you were more flexible.

You curled your legs around his right thigh and managed to twist him onto his back. You gained the leverage, pushing down on his shoulders from above while you straddled his waist. 

“Ha!” You stared down at him with a mischievous smirk while catching your breath. Dean looked up at you with grinning eyes, his hands molding to your hips. The little shorts you wore to bed were driving him a bit crazy, and he bunched the material there on reflex. His thumbs grazed your skin underneath and made tingles run up your spine.  

“You realize this is a hollow victory, right?” he said. You tilted your head in question.

“Hmm?”

Then his grip on your hips tightened, and with a gasp, you were tumbling to the side and being rolled again. 

Dean literally came out on top, looking down on you. His grin was fond and amused as he brushed your hair away from your face. You couldn’t resist; you pulled him down by his shirt for a kiss. 

You caught the scent of his aftershave, tasted his minty freshness. His tongue slipped between your lips as he deepened the kiss. And he braced his hands on either side of you while you slid your fingers through his short hair. 

You almost sighed in contentment…but a curious thought was nagging at the back of your mind and wouldn’t let go. 

So you released his lower lip with a soft nip, and you pulled away enough to meet his confused (and heated) eyes. 

“But seriously, why do you want the right side so bad?” you asked, raising a hand to stroke the side of his face. You actually liked the way his stubble scratched your palm. 

Dean paused. His gaze shifted in a way that told you the reason went deeper than you’d thought.  

“It’s nothin’. I just wanna be closer to the door, that’s all,” he said. 

You blinked up at him in amusement. “We’re in the bunker. You think a burglar’s gonna come bursting in or something?”

“Or something,” Dean said. He wasn’t kidding around. 

Your smile softened. Something else you’d learned about Dean: he knew you could protect yourself just fine, but that didn’t stop him from putting himself between you and danger whenever he could help it. 

“Who says chivalry’s dead,” you teased. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Okay.” 

I’m done, said his tone.

But you could tell he was trying to stem off his embarrassment. He was a bigger softie than he was willing to admit. 

He started to shift off you to his side of the bed, but you followed him. You tucked yourself against him and slipped your leg between both of his, shimmying around to get comfortable. Dean nearly rolled his eyes again as your antics shook the bed. But he still wrapped an arm around your waist.

You then laid your head against his chest. His heart beat at a steady pace under your cheek, and you sighed. 

“Comfortable?” he asked wryly. His hand covered yours on his chest. You nodded. 

“With you, always,” you whispered. 

You couldn’t see it, but a smile curved Dean’s lips as your words inevitably warmed him inside.

AN: So a nice soft one for Dean in this little series! Castiel is up next (last but certainly not least).

To read Part 1: Sam

To read Part 3: Castiel

TAG LIST:

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @this-is-me19

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural #spn #fluff #protective!dean #soft!dean #zepskies writes #zepskies

[profoundbondfanfic]

When Dinosaurs Ruled The Earth

When Dinosaurs Ruled The Earth by Mishafied Rating: Mature Word count: 68k

Dean and Sam are Paleontologists; Castiel is a writer. So none of them are quite sure why Gabriel, Castiel's brother, is inviting them out to get a sneak peek of his newest 'nature theme park'. But their fascination with the creatures that haven't walked the earth in 65 million years quickly turns to terror when a betrayal sends the whole island into turmoil, and when the fences come down, all bets are off.

One of my favorite flavors of fic are those written based on movies. I’ve even reviewed a few for this blog so sharing one of my top fics based on a movie I’ve loved since I was a kid was a lot of fun this week. 

That said, I’m thrilled to share When Dinosaurs Ruled The Earth with the blog. Based on the classic movie Jurassic Park, this fic delivers in ways even the movie didn’t. Aside from being endgame Destiel, it also incorporates bigger baddies only seen in sequels and a perfectly replaced cast of Supernatural characters. 

Fair warning, if you’ve seen the movie, you know the “minor character death” tag isn’t a joke, a lot of people get eaten by dinosaurs in this fic and there are some pretty graphic descriptions of that happening so… mind your tags. If you don’t mind reading about a few people getting eaten and you like dinosaurs and DeanCas (including Dean carrying Cas bridal style through the jungle), then this is a fic you shouldn’t miss! 

#destiel #fic rec #fusion week #mature #au #50k to 100k #modern setting #other media #angst with a happy ending #horror #writer!castiel #protective!dean #hurt!castiel #minor character death #author: Mishafied #When Dinosaurs Ruled The Earth

[psychicsamlover]

s01e22 Devil's Trap

#supernatural #samdean #classic spn #sam winchester #dean winchester #wincest #codependent brothers #hurt!sam #protective!dean

[cyi-can-you-imagine]

Mine

Sammy comes home from school with a hickey and a few deep scratches. They’re both on his chest and he tries to keep it hidden. But Dean senses something’s off the second Sam walks in the door.

Sam tries to avoid his brother but fails, and Dean manages to pull him away from the prying eyes of their dad.

Behind closed doors, Dean’s fists clench. 

“Spill,” he says, and he sounds disgusted.

Sam tries to hold back tears and quietly lifts his shirt.

“Who did that to you? You tired of me already, Sammy?”

Sam’s breath hitches and there’s fear in his eyes. “No! Dean, no it…it isn’t like that. It. He…” Sam’s cheeks redden. His hair falls in his eyes as he looks down. 

“He what, Sam!” Dean’s clearly annoyed.

Sam’s voice was quiet. “I told him no Dean. He wouldn’t listen. He just -”

Dean’s face shifts through several emotions before settling back on anger. He grabs Sam’s chin and forces him to turn his head to look at him. “You’re fucking mine, you hear that Sammy? Mine. And nobody ever lays a fucking hand on you. Or their fucking mouth for that matter, and not without your fucking permission!” He’s breathing hard.

Sam hangs his head in shame.Dean storms out, slamming the door behind him.

He comes home two hours later with a black eye and bloody knuckles.

Now his voice is soft. He tucks a lock of Sam’s hair behind his ear.

“Mine,” he says, his eyes dark.

#wincest #protective!dean #hurt!sam #brothers

[spnexploration]

Collared part 40

The final one!

Pairing: Dean x Reader eventually finally

Series summary: Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.

Episode summary: You try sitting

Warnings: None

A/N: You guys!! I can't believe we're at the end! This is my first series and it took me 40 chapters to get there, but we're finally there!

Word count: 1.5k

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 39 <-

Sam watched you staring at the dining table chairs. He’d come up behind you and you hadn’t seemed to notice him yet. He didn’t want to interrupt your moment, but he was worried if he tried to back away you’d hear and it’d make it even more awkward.

You sighed and then started to head to the collection of cushions on the floor.

“You know,” he said gently, trying not to startle you, “you don’t have to start with the hardest thing first.”

“Huh?”

“Chairs seem like they have a lot of baggage. You were literally tortured by the collar when Dean tried to get you to sit on one, and I’m sure there was worse. But what if you start with something that doesn’t have that association?”

“Like what?”

“I dunno, the kitchen bench, the table itself, the top of the step ladder?”

You turned to look at the bench. You seemed to contemplate it for a few moments before heading over to over to it. You ran your hands along it.

“This could work,” you murmured. You turned around, putting the heels of your hand on the edge of the bench. You looked like you were testing your weight on your wrists, deciding whether to lift up. He would offer to lift you, but he had a feeling this was something you’d want to do by yourself.

He turned to the pantry, busying himself so you didn’t feel like he was staring. He heard a noise behind him and had to force himself not to turn around. You didn’t sound hurt, you didn’t need him. You needed privacy.

He gave it a minute or so before he turned back to you. There you were, sitting on the bench. You looked a little apprehensive but not too bad. He smiled at you then continued busying himself getting breakfast ready.

He heard Dean’s footsteps enter the kitchen. “Wa-hey Bambi! You’re airborne again!”

Sam watched your whole face light up at Dean’s joke. It was adorable how you two acted with each other when you weren’t freaking out about the other one’s reactions.

Dean headed over to you, leaning against the bench next to you. Sam took that cue to busy himself again, although he was running out of things to do to get breakfast given he was just getting out cereal. He could still hear the conversation, but at least he didn’t look like he was intruding.

“How you feeling?” Dean asked.

“I mean, it’s not quite comfortable, you know? But it’s not that bad. It’s kinda nice being up high too.”

“Yeah, you almost made it to a sensible height.” Sam could hear Dean’s voice turn to teasing you.

“Oh? Is only your height sensible, is it?”

“Of course!”

“Sam, you got an opinion on that?” you called to him.

Sam turned around, glad he didn’t have to keep pretending he was getting out cutlery. “Hey, hey, I support people of all statures. I’ve never been to jail for a hate crime against little people.”

You looked at Dean, shocked but still smiling.

“Oi! That was not a hate crime!” Dean replied indignantly. “I was trying to tell you that the problem was fairies.”

You giggled. “You fought fairies?”

“Yeah, look, just because things have a cute name doesn’t mean they’re not problematic.”

“And you solved that by going to jail?”

“What? No. Look, whose side are you on?”

“Anyone who’s against you, obviously!” You stuck your tongue out at Dean. The flirting was really reaching fever pitch now, Sam thought.

“Sassy Bambi has come out today, I see.”

“Aww, did Sassy Bambi hurt Ickle Dean’s feelings?”

Sam was very torn. On the one hand, he wanted you two to get together, if that’s what you both wanted. On the other, he didn’t really want to be incredibly awkwardly third-wheeling your first hook-up while holding cereal.

“So, uh, breakfast?” Sam said, holding up the cereal and spoons. You two could recreate the moment. Alone.

---

“You ok?” Sam asked Dean quietly when they were alone.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You literally woke me up because you were terrified you’d scared Y/N.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. All good.”

“So we’re not going to have any more ‘Missing woman found in own bedroom’ moments?”

“Shut up, bitch.”

“Just checking...”

---

Dean walked in to the library to find you sitting on the table, looking at the phone Sam had gotten you yesterday. “Heya Bambi,” he said.

“Hi Squirrel.”

He raised his eyebrow, fixing you with a glare.

You laughed.

“What you up to?” you asked after a moment, turning the conversation.

“I was thinking of looking for a case. One we, umm, could take you to, but only if you promise to stay in the motel. Or you can stay here, if you want.”

You turned your head on the side, looking quizzically at him. “You have changed, haven’t you?”

“Huh?”

“Maybe I mean ‘you listened’, rather than changed.”

“Sweetheart, you gotta be less pensive if you want the rest of the class to follow you.”

“I just- I’m happy. I said I didn’t want to be treated like I was fragile, and you’re finally not. Well, in your own overprotective way.”

He scratched his neck, awkward. “Umm, yeah. Ok. So, do you wanna help look...?”

“Can we go practice some moves first?”

“If you’re not ready, we can wait.”

“No, I’m ready. I just want to remind myself that I can do this before we do.”

“And getting to hit me reminds you of that, does it?” he said with a smirk.

“Oh, I mean, that’s absolutely a side benefit. Hell, that’s the whole goal some days.”

He put on his best bitch face. You playfully clapped your hand on his chest as you jumped off the table.

---

“Is it easier?” Dean asked you.

“Is what easier?”

“Sitting on the bench.” He gestured to where you were perched, watching him cook.

“Umm, I think so. The chair is just...” You trailed off.

“Too much?”

“Yeah.”

“Fair enough.”

Dean kept cooking, not noticing you staring at your fingers.

“Sometimes I worry I won’t ever be normal,” you said quietly.

He turned to you. “Sweetheart, you’ve been sitting on furniture for one day. You’ve been healing and making huge progress.” He reached forward and cupped your cheek. “And yeah, maybe you won’t. Sammy and I have been through some shit and we’re not the same, we’re not normal. But we’re ok.”

“If I’m not normal, how am I going to leave?”

He froze, “Do you- do you want to leave?” He dropped his hand.

“Don’t you want your freedom back? I appreciate you’re willing to take me to a case to stay in a motel, but I’m sure eventually that’ll be annoying or unsuitable.”

“Logistics is not a reason to leave,” he said in a choked voice.

A small smile appeared on your face. He breathed again, a small glimmer of hope igniting within. “Do you... Do you want me to stay?” you asked in a very small voice.

“If you wa-” he started, then noticed your face falling. He steeled himself, if he didn’t take this moment you would be gone forever. “I mean- yes, Bambi, I want you to stay.”

“You’re not just saying that to be nice?”

“I was telling you it was your choice to be nice. What I want...” he moved closer again. “What I want is-”

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Dean span. Fuck, the smoke alarm was going off, he’d burnt dinner. He quickly crossed to the pan, turning off the burner and trying to deal with the mess. He could see you’d jumped off the bench behind him and we’re trying to fan the smoke away, and Sam came running in to help.

Later, when it was over, Sam turned to Dean. “What were you doing? Not like you to be so distracted.”

“I, uh-” Dean started.

“It’s my fault, I was distracting him,” you answered.

Sam smirked. “Well, maybe I’ll leave you two to the clean up then.”

“Yeah, sure, Sammy, we’ll clean it all up. Might be eggs on toast for dinner though.”

Sam nodded and headed out, a grin on his face. Dean didn’t have time to wonder about that as he turned back to find you biting your lip and looking up at him.

“Where were we?” he asked you playfully.

“Well, I was over here,” you said moving towards the bench. Dean reached forward and lifted you up, sitting you on top of the bench. You giggled.

���And I think I was here,” he said, moving closer.

You spread your legs a little and pulled him to stand between them. “I think this is a better place, don’t you?”

“Certainly has some advantages. And as I’ve said before, I like what your newfound bench sitting does for your height.” He reached his hand to cup your face again.

“Oh? Does that present some advantages too?”

“Can certainly think of some uses.” He leaned forward, watching your reactions. You were smiling and leaning forward.

He bent down slightly and kissed you.

Finally.

.

.

.

Taglist:

@malindacath

@stoneyggirl2

@iprobablyshipit91

@tiggytaylor

@ellie-andthemachine

@muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch

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@wandering-winchesters

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester angst #dean winchester hurt/comfort #dean winchester saves you #protective!dean winchester #protective!dean #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fanfiction #collar #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dark fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural x reader #slavery #sam winchester x platonic!reader #supernatural #supernatural angst #protective dean winchester

[midnightsilver]

“You okay Sammy?”

“I’m fine Dean. Hurry up and get this open.”

Trapped for @wincestwednesdays

(My process vid painting this pic)

#supernatural #spn fanart #wincest #wincest wednesday #MidnightSilver #sam winchester #dean winchester #trapped #cage #blood #hurt!sam #protective!dean #my artwork

[ghost-go-roasty-mctoasty]

Why do i never get what i want... Why no after care after bmol. Why no after care after beat the devil. No tentatively cleaning the blood off of Sams neck and cheek?

I deserved to see Sam exhaustedly collapse into Deans arms, Dean walking Sam over to baby, helping him get in, making him as comfortable as possible. I wanted to see Dean taking care of his little brother, making sure there were no broken ribs, no infected cuts or burns. Cleaning him up, making him soup, tucking him into bed... is that so hard? Sam didn't even have to bring up the hallucinations and how they reminded him of lucifer for me to be happy...this would've been enough

And what about Sam coming back to a Dean who was fully prepared to walk back into that vampires cave just to retrieve his brothers dead body?? Huh?? Why did I not get to see Dean ushering Sam to a more secluded tent, away from Lucifers prying eyes, keeping his hands on Sams shoulders so that he can feel every flinch, looking at Sam with pleading eyes, because Dean needs to take care of Sam this time more for himself than for Sam. Because theres nothing physically wrong with Sam...but Dean doesnt know if he can spend one more second looking at that dry, caked up blood on Sam's neck. Its too much for him.

So why did I not get Dean softly and carefully rubbing the blood off of Sams face with an abandoned rag he found somewhere, comforting his little brother, promising him its not his fault, wiping away a stray tear that Sam let fall, but not saying anything about it....why did I not get that???

#i love being overly dramatic #but its okay because ive read enough fanfic to make up for it #sam winchester #supernatural #sam and dean #dean winchester #gen #gencest #protective!dean #beat the devil #bmol

[waynes-multiverse]

To Be Human – Part 18

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reporter!Reader

Series Summary: Dean and Y/N have been best friends and inseparable since they were kindergartners, leading somewhat boringly normal lives in Lawrence City, Kansas. Now all grown up, Dean is working as a firefighter and Y/N as a reporter until one fateful night changes not only their lives but also their friendship forever.

Warnings: +18, strong language, Cas is here to talk some sense into our boy, Jo & Dean call a truce, protective!Dean, Nick is an ass, mentions of drugs, experiments & kidnapping, a lot of angst

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Well, you’re about to find out what you missed last chapter... Necessary measures have been taken to get these idiots together. Btw, this series will have 35-40 parts, so we’re about halfway through and the second half has a lot more fluff and smut 😉

Feedback is highly appreciated! ❤️‍🔥

<<17 || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

One stormy morning at the fire station…

“Lawrence City police are still trying to identify a suspect responsible for the recent strange robberies of local businesses. If you have any information, please call our PD. And now to my colleague Gabriel for the weather report. Looks like our sunny city is really plagued by some storms this year, huh?”

“Oh, it is, Dumah. But at least it looks like I finally have something to report around here.”

“That you surely do, Gabe!”

Dean tunes out the joking newscasters on the TV screen as he sits by the big dining table in the kitchen, his gaze mindlessly drifting outside the window.

The current weather seems to be the perfect representation of his tumultuous inner life. It’s raining cats and dogs, lightning bolts illuminating the dark clouds in the sky and thunder roaring through the tall buildings. For once, he’s glad he’s not on call today, even though the blaring sirens every few minutes are tempting to follow.

He guides the mug of fresh coffee to his lips and his heart stings – again. It’s been doing that randomly since he left Y/N in that alley two nights ago, and he knows it’s the guilt that puts a toll on the pumping muscle in his ribcage.

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s really done it this time, and he’s not sure he can come back from it so easily. How’s he supposed to fix this? He wouldn’t blame Y/N if she decided she never wanted to see his face again. His stupidity and self-hatred fucking hurt the only person he never meant to hurt. He regrets the spiteful things he’s said. Oh, does he regret them…

He’s an asshole, isn’t he?

And that’s precisely the reason why Y/N doesn’t deserve some trash bag like him. She doesn’t deserve an asshole. She deserves someone good – someone like Nate. Truthfully, Dean only hates the guy because he’s everything he wishes he could be. Kind, smart, funny, good. Nate’s perfect for Y/N. He treats her right. It’s all Dean ever wished for her, which is why he’s been trying to behave the last few weeks. Every time a bad thought starts to stir within him, he hums his favorite Zeppelin tunes instead. It’s not ideal, but it helps a little. He doesn’t want to ruin this for her, too.

Because honestly? He’s the bad seed, the black sheep. He’s the one that ruins things, not her.

God, how could he even say that to her? Everything that came out of his mouth that night was just hateful lies without an ounce of truth to them. Fact is: he doesn’t hate her. She didn’t ruin his life, not even a little bit. She’s only made it better since the day he met her. He needs her like he needs his air to breathe, his mind cloudy without either. She’s his whole world and he blew it all up.

Boom.

Dean doesn’t know what possessed him to say those things in the first place. Her confession just rattled him and his defense mechanism kicked in, and he supposes it’s always been anger. He felt fucking exposed – like she peeled all his layers back and left him bare. Now, she can see for herself how twisted his mind is, can see how fucked up he truly is. It’s always been his biggest fear. Why would she ever love someone like him?

So, he did what he does best: he pushed her away, shoved her into the grass again.

His heart contracts once more. It’s about the tenth time in the last two days he thought he was having a heart attack. He’s not kidding; he googled it. Humans can actually die from a broken heart and he’s definitely at that point.

“Morning,” Cas yawns as he saunters into the kitchen, grabbing himself a cup of caffeine as well before settling down on a chair across from Dean.

“Morning.” Dean’s not been the most social person over the last year, but even he has to admit that his mood is significantly worse today.

“You doing okay? Something you wanna talk about?” Cas prompts and leans back in his seat, fixing him with a raised look.

“Nope.”

The blue-eyed man then sighs and rests his elbows on the table. “Can I be honest with you for a second?”

“Also, nope,” Dean grumbles and stubbornly keeps his glare on the TV screen behind his friend’s head.

“You’ve never officially told any of us, aside from Bobby, but it’s been five weeks since you’ve been living at the firehouse, Dean. The squad has kinda noticed, you know? There’s some wild theories going around at this point. Even some pools.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m already looking for a place, so don’t worry about it,” Dean brushes him off and folds his arms over his chest.

“Dean, we don’t care that you live here. We just wanna know what’s going on,” Cas twitches his shoulders and smiles softly.

“Well, uh, things with Lisa ended, I’m homeless, and I’ve screwed it up with Y/N so badly she pretty much hates me now. End of story,” he retorts and probably sounds as bitter as the coffee he’s sipping on.

“What happened with Y/N?” Cas knits his brow questioningly and leans forward even more. “Is this still about that time when you called her easy?”

Dean’s mouth falls open, tilting his head questioningly at his friend. “How the fuck do you know about that?”

“Meg told me because Y/N told her,” his friend replies and chuckles, “It’s a big city, but this firehouse is a small town. You know that.”

“What, so you guys are just talking about me all day? Since when are you pals with fucking Meg?”

“Well, uhm, since I’ve been fucking Meg, probably,” Cas clears his throat and then grins at him.

Dean’s eyebrows quirk together in… horror? Shock? Repugnance? He’s feeling a lot of things. “Ew?”

Cas laughs, “We’ve been going out for three months now. We told the squad last week. You were there, you know?”

“I was?”

Man, he really sucks as a friend and just generally as a functioning human these days. So much so that he didn’t even realize one of his best friends started dating his frenemy.

“Yeah, you were,” Cas nods with an amused grin.

“You know she’s technically your boss, right?”

“Not in the bedroom,” his friend retorts smugly, and Dean’s nose wrinkles in disgust. God, why did he ask? “Look, Dean, we all know you’ve been a little occupied lately. You’re lucky you’re a good lieutenant,” Cas winks. “So… if you’ve ended things with Lisa, why haven’t you told Y/N how you feel yet? Does she even know you’ve ended your engagement?”

Dean sighs loudly and blows a raspberry. “No, she doesn’t. I didn’t wanna tell her and rock the boat too much. I guess… she seems happier without me, you know? I don’t wanna drag her down. ‘Sides, there’s other things factoring in, too.”

“Like what?”

“Things no one can fix, alright?” Dean breathes and finishes his coffee. He gets up from his chair and returns the mug to the sink. “It’s just better this way, you know?”

“For who?” Cas questions and cocks an eyebrow at him.

Dean only shrugs softly, “For her.”

His hand twitches, his heart twinges, and the sorrow twirls through his mind again. He’d give anything if his power could’ve been something useful like turning back time. He’d go back to that first morning in the firehouse before her coma and tell her how he feels. Maybe he’d go back even further, gift them a whole decade together and himself even more time to love her.  

“Dean?”

His head jerks up to the doorway, his brow knitting in confusion when he recognizes the familiar blonde, soaking wet from head to toe.

“Jo… What-, uh, what are you doing here?”

To be fair, the youngest Harvelle sister is about the last person he’s ever expected to get a visit from. And then, his heart plummets. If Jo’s here, something bad has happened to the only person they both care about.

“Can we talk… alone?” Her chocolate eyes briefly flick to Cas before landing back on him. Dean nods and quickly guides her outside, rushing her into the locker room and closing the door firmly behind them.  

“It’s Y/N. I think she’s in trouble,” Jo blurts out immediately at the first sign of privacy.

Dean notices the seriousness and despair gleaming in her eyes, his senses immediately on alert as soon as his ears pick up the magic words Y/N + trouble. It’s like a code in his genes that instantly switches on something primal deep inside of him. The beating muscle in his chest is fluttering harshly, constricting to an uncomfortable degree. If she’s hurt…

“What? What happened? What kinda trouble?”

Jo shrugs helplessly as tears fill her amber orbs, “I-, I don’t know. She hasn’t come home last night or stopped by Mom’s. No one’s seen or heard from her since then. Her phone’s going straight to voicemail. I’ve looked everywhere all night. Please tell me you’ve heard from her.”

“I-,” he swallows thickly as the guilt consumes him. “No, uh, sorry. Last time I talked to her was two nights ago.”

Fucking shit. He’s been in his own head so damn much he didn’t even stop for a second to check up on her. He hasn’t bothered to call her or even shoot her a single text message after a conversation where he basically told her he hates her. He just left her there in that alley, and now God knows what happened to her.

“Look, Y/N’s told me about you guys. I know about her abilities… and I know about yours,” Jo admits, and his breath hitches in his throat for a second because he’s not used to people fucking knowing. It makes him uneasy and his feet want to run for the hills, but the thought of his best friend in danger keeps them steadily planted. “I think her disappearance has something to do with her research. She’s been looking into the explosion.”

“Dammit, I told her to be careful,” he shakes his head and runs a hand over his face. God, why is his best friend so fucking stubborn and reckless sometimes?

“Yeah, but you know her. There’s nothing that can keep her away from a scoop,” Jo smiles weakly and wipes the tears off her cheeks as they mingle with the remaining raindrops on her skin. “Please help me with this. Y/N hasn’t told Nate about her abilities, so I didn’t wanna drag him into it. You’re the only one I can ask.”

Thank fucking God. He’s glad Jo picked him over Nate. The guy might be nice, but Dean’s certain there’s no match between them when it comes to caring about Y/N. He’d die for her, and he is unwilling to find out if Nate possesses the same kind of courtesy.

“Of course, I’ll help,” Dean nods eagerly without question. Jo lets out a relieved breath. Did she actually think he wouldn’t help just because it was her who asked? Jesus Christ, his silly feud with Jo is not even half as important as his love for Y/N. “Do you know where she was last seen?”  

“She told me she’s going to Devil’s Bridge to look for Claire again,” Jo informs him.

“Claire?” He lifts an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name and tries to ignore the eerie feeling that spreads in his gut upon hearing her last location. He was just there last night. Fuck.

“Uh, she’s the girl with electric powers. Y/N’s been trying to track her down,” the blonde explains.

Jesus fucking Christ, how many secrets did his best friend keep from him? Well, he supposes he’s not one to talk, sitting in that glasshouse of his. Where’s he gonna throw that stone, huh?

And then the lightbulb in his brain switches on – Nick.

If the ruthless CEO somehow found out about Y/N’s abilities, he would’ve tried to get his hands on her, no doubt. And suddenly, he realizes what gig Gadreel was probably working last night. It was his goddamn best friend.

“Okay, I know where she could be,” he tells Jo. “C’mon.”

Later…

The big, golden doors fly open as Dean bursts into Nick’s lavish office, his secretary not far behind him and flailing her arms around in upset, high heels clicking on white marble floors.

“Sir! You cannot just walk in here! You need an appointment!”

Dean doesn’t care about the upset secretary. He doesn’t have time for manners as he charges inside. He’s already plowed through six security guards on his way to the top floor.

Nick rises from his black leather chair and sends his assistant a cool smile, “It’s okay, Ruby. You can go back to your desk. I was already expecting Mr. Winchester to show up.”

The secretary shoots Dean a quick glare on her way out, leaving the men behind with a small huff.

“Okay, where the hell is she? I know you have her,” the firefighter snarls at Nick straight away, leaving no room for polite small talk.

“Now, now, Dean. Settle down. We both know that’s not gonna do your little problem any favors,” the CEO chuckles in amusement, gestures lazily to Dean’s hand, and strolls a few steps to the drinking cart, pouring himself two fingers of scotch.

“Stop bullshitting me and tell me where she is,” Dean growls with a clenched jaw, his teeth grinding down so hard it almost hurts. He can feel his powers stirring inside of him, his hand itching to set ablaze, but he’s trying to swallow his anger down. He knows it only amuses Nick to watch him break.

“Dean, c’mon now. I’m the CEO of a renowned company. We’re not in the business of kidnapping people here.” He takes an innocent sip of his drink and sets the tumbler down on the oak desk when he’s finished. “I’m guessing this is about your girlfriend?” Nick then laughs and nods his head when Dean’s only response is a thundering glare. “You know, if you’d been honest with me from the start, I could’ve protected her,” he adds with an apologetic shrug.

Dean’s muscles tense at his words, his eyes meeting the CEO’s as his head darts up from the floor. “Protect her from what?”

Nick sighs regretfully and leans against the edge of his desk, “Well, COSMOS might not kidnap innocent citizens, but I can’t say the same thing for some of our business associates. A lot of parties are interested in our research, especially in people like you, buddy.”

“What? What parties?” Dean’s brow furrows wildly as the bad feeling in his gut only rises and he realizes Nick might not be his worst problem yet.

“Well, you know, just some high-tech companies overseas, the military…,” Nick lists off and winks.

“The mil-…” Dean stops and sucks in a breath as his mind starts racing.

Fuck. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what the military would want from a mind reader like Y/N. His heart is only hammering faster now, knowing he has to find her sooner rather than later.

“You know who took her, don’t you?” Dean cocks his eyebrow, the anger only expanding in his chest when Nick laughs in response. Whatever resolve he had left crumbles then and there as he grabs the CEO’s collar and pushes him into the desk, raising his furious hand. “Tell me where she is, or I’m gonna turn you into a pile of ash, you sick son of a bitch.”

“There he is. I knew you were holding back on me all these months,” Nick sneers complacently and mockingly pats his cheek.

Dean drops him back onto his feet, pacing the giant office as he shakes his cursed hand. God, he hates feeling like a freak all the time.

“See, this has always been your problem. As long as you fight against it, you won’t be able to control it,” Nick quips, not feeling threatened in the slightest. “Oh, but Y/N, on the other hand… I knew from the first day I heard about her coma and saw her test results that she was special. She’s figured out her abilities a lot sooner than you did, and man, she is magnificent. The best thing I’ve ever created if I do say so myself… Do you even know what you could do with your abilities? Y/N’s valuable – a lot more valuable than you. Only helps that she’s nice to look at, too,” he chuckles.

“Shut the fuck up,” Dean barks with flaring nostrils. He wants to rip Nick’s throat out with his bare teeth and wipe that smug smile off his face. But if he kills him, his chances of finding Y/N will be nonexistent – he’s aware of that frustratingly annoying fact.

“Hit a nerve there, huh?” Nick’s amusement booms through the room. “Tell you what – if you wanna be all cute and reunite with your little girlfriend so badly, I can arrange that. I’m not a monster, Dean. I’m not gonna stand in the way of true love. I’m a sucker for a happy ending, after all.”

The CEO then leans over his desk and pushes a button on his phone as Dean’s brow knits more and more with every passing second, “Ruby? You can send them in now, sweetie.”

The firefighter can’t even spin around as fast as the doors behind him burst open and three men in military uniform barge inside Nick’s office.

“General Roman, meet Dean Winchester,” Nick introduces him enthusiastically to the guy with the most insignia on his uniform.

“Is this the specimen you’ve been telling me about?” The General only acknowledges Dean’s presence with a disdainful glance.

“Yep,” Nick chimes and gleefully picks up his drink again.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” General Roman shakes the CEO’s hand before he nods to his men, “Boys, take him.”

“What?! Hey!” Dean squirms and violently tries to escape the sudden grips on his arms before a sack is pulled over his head and his vision darkens. He feels a cold sting in his neck, his eyes suddenly becoming sleepy, only hearing Nick’s last few words echoing through his weary mind before his body shuts down.

“Dean, can’t say it was a pleasure working with you. You were pretty much a useless nuisance to me. Bye, bye now…”

Meanwhile, at an unknown location…

There are goosebumps on her skin, a shiver running down her spine as another cold drop lands on her face. She wheezes and rattles awake with a loud groan, her head hurting like hell.

Y/N flutters her tired eyes open, blinking around the dark and freezing interior. Her palms feel the harsh concrete underneath them and her eyes adjust to the darkness a little more, the blurry metal bars forming into shape.

Her heart begins to hammer in her ribcage, her breath hitching in her throat. Where the fuck is she?

She frantically tries to jog her memories, but all she can recall is seeing Dean chatting with a dealer at Devil’s Bridge before it all becomes a hazy cloud. Her mind begins to run a mile a minute as she gets up from the hard ground and stretches her sore muscles. She paces her windowless cell, attempting to determine her location as her eyes roam her surroundings, but she soon comes to the conclusion that her efforts are futile when no clues can be detected.

It eerily resembles an underground prison – at least what she imagines an underground prison would look like. It’s not like she’s ever seen one before, okay?

But that would be absolutely fucking nuts, right? Who the fuck would kidnap her?

“Hey, there,” a female voice sounds in the distance, and Y/N’s head tilts to the next cell, seeing a blonde girl comfortably resting on a dingy mattress.

“Claire?” Y/N narrows her eyes at the teenager. Well, that’s a clue.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“We’ve met before… in that alley? Two guys attacked you?” Y/N manages to squeeze out as she fights the drowsiness. Man, whatever they’ve done to her must’ve really knocked her out. It definitely feels worse than any hangover she’s experienced so far.

“Oh yeah, that. Thanks for distracting them. I needed some time to charge,” the blonde grins, but Y/N can only groan in response and roll her eyes a little.

“Uh-huh. You kinda bolted on me there, kid. I’ve been looking for you,” Y/N shares and tries to hide the bitterness. No wonder she couldn’t find the girl if she was hauled up here this whole damn time.

Claire shrugs carelessly and sasses, “Well, congrats. You’ve found me.”

Part 19

A new enemy, a few easter eggs about possible superhumans, and our star-crossed lovers reuniting soon in locked cells. What’s next? Find your wishing well HERE! Feedback is highly appreciated! ❤️‍🔥

Tags:

Real Heroes (Dean/Jensen Tag): @deanwanddamons​​ @flamencodiva​​ @panicking-outside-the-disco​​ @deandreamernp​​ @avanatural​​ @eevvvaa​​ @writercole​​ @gshade22​​ @poptart06294​​ @supraveng​​ @sexyvixen7​​ @that-one-gay-girl​​ @lyarr24​​ @msmarvelouswinchester​​ @akshi8278​​ @spnbaby-67​​ @xlynnbbyx​​ @mimaria420​​ @thoughts-and-funnies​​ @dark-night-sky-99​​ @wittyboldsoul​​ @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​​ @imherefordeanandbones​​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​​ @snowlovespie​​ @leigh70​​ @maggiegirl17​​

Superhumans (Series Tag): @krazykelly​​ @siospins2​​ @muhahaha303​​ @goldenangelwingsandcandy​​ @elite4cekalyma​​ @cevans98​​ @hobby27​​ @ijustlearnedtolovebeepbopboop​​ @allonsy-yesiwill​​ @megann-duff​​ @bagpussjocken​​ @eliwinchester99​​ @smellingofpoetry​​ @stoneyggirl2​​ @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak​​ @mlovesstories​​ @pendragon405 @eggbertsworld​​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​​ @barewithme02​​ @nancymcl​​ @bluecornflowers​​ @kyjey​​ @jay-mach @ladysparkles78​​ @loki-lover84​​ @love-jackles​​ @-episkey-​​ @alpharedjensen​​ @pallographsunspot​​​ @wolfarrowepz​​ @briagallen​​

If you’re crossed out, tagging didn’t work for some dumblr reason! Sorry!

#to be human #dean winchester x reader #firefighter!dean #superhero au #firefighter au #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x you #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester imagine #protective!dean #dean winchester angst

[miss-madness67]

Xenia (Dean Winchester One shot)

Baucis and Philemon retelling. Dean and Sam as Zeus and Hermes. Reader as Baucis and Philemon.

It was no secret that the almighty King John Winchester was looking for a wife to marry his eldest son. The whole kingdom was aware of this fact, and every young girl of age sought to be chosen to become the next queen of Winchester. For this reason, the castle was constantly being visited by noblewomen and commoners alike. It was a blessing the King made no distinction between the high class and the lower class. On the other hand, this only brought more problems to Crown Prince Dean. Foremost, every girl he met was interested in marrying him, and he had no idea who wanted to do so because they liked him, and who wanted to do so because they wanted the power that came with it. In addition to this, the prince did not desire to marry out of an arrangement or pressure. Deep down, he wanted to find true love, even if it was a fairy tale notion.

“But father, I have told you before that there is no need for me to get a wife,” Dean said one day to his father for the thousandth time.

John Winchester, perched on his throne like a true king, took no time to answer to the tantrum. “I am not getting any younger, and soon enough, you will be the next king of Winchester, you need a wife to support you and to give you heirs.”

Another thing that was well-known by the whole kingdom was the precarious health of the king. Everyone knew that, since his wife and previous queen Mary died years ago, his health had declined considerably. A kingdom with a weak leader was going to soon enough become a target of war. The people were sure that the only reason why neighboring kings have not attacked yet was because of the existing strong princes, Dean and Sam. People were well aware of their courage and intelligence. Nevertheless, John Winchester's arguments were true, for neighboring kingdoms to respect the ascension of Dean, he needed to have a future queen.

“I can rule on my own, I do not need a wife, I have Sammy to step up if needed…” Dean left the commentary unfinished, he knew this was not going to convince his father.

“A queen has an important role in the monarchy, Dean, the kingdom has suffered long enough without one.” Then, he looked at Sam, who was currently standing to the right of his brother. “And Sam will have other duties to fulfill as the new Crown Prince until you have heirs.” After that talk, there were no more complaints on Dean’s part for a while.

During the next month or so, the Winchester castle celebrated several different gatherings in order to look for a potential queen. Dean met dozens of girls from various social standings and physical appearances, yet he found all of them to be extremely dull or material. There was not one that he considered salvageable. At first, his father wanted him to be the one to decide on his wife, but once he saw that his son was not interested in the slightest, King John took the matter into his own hands.

“If none of the girls you have met so far is of your interest, I will be the one who chooses for you.”

That is the last thing that he wanted, so Dean pleaded to his brother for help. Sam, ever the wise man, came up with a solution to Dean’s problem. “You don’t want any of these women because they only care about your face, money, or power, am I right?” Sam inquired.

“Yes, I swear, there is no one girl who I can have a normal conversation with. All they care about is the future Queen position.” The annoyance in Dean’s voice was clear as day.

“And father mentioned that he wanted you to find a kind woman, someone who cared about the people, like Mother.” A plan was forming in Sam’s mind. “I know what we have to do.”

The idea that Sam proposed was simple enough; they would test their unknowing subjects to see who could be worthy of the crown, and at the same time, it would allow Dean to meet someone without the advantages of being the prince. First, they decided to take the plan to their father for approval. John was a little skeptical of the results, but he supported his boys with the condition that, if the plan were to fail, Dean would marry a girl John saw fit. The Crown Prince accepted begrudgingly.

The next part of the scheme was to have the royal magician create a concoction strong enough to change a man’s appearance. The whole kingdom could recognize them by face, and for the plan to work, discretion was a must. Thus, the wizard supplied them with the potion that could change how they looked for everyone else. One for Dean and one for Sam, because they would go together on their little adventure. They only needed to wait for the perfect moment to cast their strategy. On a fated day of storm, they drank the elixir and went into town, looking for a soul kind enough to let them stay the night.

The brothers departed highly optimistic, thinking that their people were warmhearted because all their life they received nothing but kindness, being royals. Dean was even worried about not being able to choose a wife among so many. Sadly, they rapidly realized that would not be the case. The potion that made them unrecognizable also made them incredibly ugly and dirty, which was realistic given their awful clothing. Closed door after closed door, negative after negative, the princes made their way through town.

One of the first houses that they went to, was that of lady Cassie. Out of all the women Dean had met, she was probably the most tolerable to think about marrying. She was a dark-skinned beauty with a fiery personality. Though, as soon as Sam and Dean rang their doorbell, they were met with judging stares and unfriendly words. Not only the butler did not want to let them come in, but also lady Cassie herself declined to help them get out of the pouring rain. Ultimately, they had to leave for the next house. Eventually, they made their way through all the nobility, with none of them offering shelter to the princes.

They had a list of the houses where they knew all young marriageable women lived, so at least they did not have to go through every single house in the kingdom. Still, there were a few. That was how they knew where to knock when they reached the town folk. Jo Harvelle’s house was next on the list. With soaked-trough clothing, Dean expected to be let in by people with a more humble background. Nevertheless, when Jo opened the door, she made a disgusted gesture and closed it back immediately after. Through the thick wood, they heard her scream her refusal to let them come in. They continued going from house to house, and every negative sent a pang of heartache to Dean’s chest. He did not think his subjects were this unkind to travelers. By the time they reached the last house on the list, Dean was sure his father was going to marry him off to the best suitor, possibly one of the many girls that thought him disgusting this night.

“Let’s just go home, Sammy,” Dean murmured, defeated, “there is no one in this town that desires to know me for me.”

Sam, however, still had hope. “There is one house left, come on.”

Their tired steps guided them to your doorstep, where they knocked gingerly on the wood. You were still awake by the time they came, you were sewing a dress for one of your customers that needed it to be delivered the next day. You were not precisely the poorest of the kingdom, but considering that you had no parents to take care of you from a young age, you had to step up to acquire a living. Most of the time you did little jobs, such as cleaning and cooking for other people, but your specialty was repairing and creating cheap clothing for the town folk. The current dress that you were making was for Anna Milton, apparently, she wanted to cause a good impression on the Crown Prince in one of the upcoming balls. You had heard a lot how about the Prince was searching for a wife, and while your friends tried to convince you to participate in the unofficial competition, you were not interested in it, why would a prince marry a commoner like you? Even if the Winchester royals saw no distinction between nobles and commoners, you could not imagine yourself becoming the next queen.

You approached the door with hesitant steps, it was very late in the night, and you lived alone, so being careful was a must. On the other side of the threshold awaited two young but lanky men. They were shivering from the cold of the midnight air, their clothes soaked through. The rain was heavy outside, so you were not surprised by the sight. What made you waver on the doorstep was their appearance altogether. You were not a person that judged others easily based on their looks, but these men were possibly the ugliest people you’d ever seen. Not only their faces were ugly, but also their clothing could only be described as rags. There was nowhere you could look at them without feeling repulsed. Nonetheless, you clearly noticed that they needed your help.

“Hello, my name is Seth, and this is my brother Dan.” Half of your brain screamed at you to close the door; what if they were dangerous? Though, the gentleness in Seth’s voice held you still. “We are not from around here, we do not have enough money to stay at the inn, and we were hoping some kind soul would allow us to stay the night. We just seek shelter from the rain.”

Seth seemed to be telling the truth, however, that did not take away the fact that you lived alone, and letting two strange men spend the night was dangerous. “I do not know…” The doubt was clear in your voice. You wanted to be a good person, you really did, and considering your house was at the end of the lane, it meant that they probably already had gone to the other homes in the village. No one else dared to give them asylum.

“We have nowhere else to go,” this time, the plea came from the other one, Dan. His eyes looked into yours and for some reason, your heart started to beat faster. You found yourself nodding and stepping away to let them in. The brothers seemed surprised, like they did not believe you would actually allow them in. Even if the eldest was really hoping you would.

Dean -or Dan- took in your features like a thirsty man as you guided them to your very small living room. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he had seen plenty. Not only because you gave them a place to stay, but also because you really were gorgeous. That was how he knew you had never gone to one of his balls, or to the castle in general. He would have remembered your face if you had.

“Here, take this to dry off.” You gave them some big leftover fabric from one of your previous projects. The material felt warm and cozy as they wrapped it around themselves.

“You are very kind,” Dan praised and to his delight, you blushed slightly. Then, as he was sitting on one of the chairs, he noticed the dress you had been working on. “That is very pretty, are you planning on using it for the Crown Prince’s next ball?” If so, then Dean had something to look forward to.

“Ah, no, you murmured.” How could he think such a pretty item is meant for you? “I create clothing for the townspeople, sometimes even the nobles. This one is for someone else.”

Dan seemed disappointed by your response. “I see…”

You did not know why, but you started explaining. “Yes, the business has increased ever since the Crown Prince said he was looking for a wife,” you laughed lightly, “everyone wants to be the new queen.”

The way said it made the brothers pause. It was like you found the situation funny. “You don’t think he should look for a queen?” Dean asked.

With a gentle smile, you gestured for them to sit at the table. “That is not it, I think he will need a partner, but having extravagant balls and being pressured to choose is not the right way for him to find the one.” You looked Dan in the eye as you said your next words. “I mean, if I were him, I would hate to be forced to marry someone that I do not love.”

If Dean previously thought you were a gorgeous woman, now he believed you were the perfect creature. You understood him in a way no one else, but his brother, did. John Winchester was too preoccupied with trying to leave the kingdom in good hands to even consider his son’s happiness. The women in court, all of his prospects, they only cared about getting the big prize. His brother understood him, and now you did too, and he might have passed out with the realization that it was you. You were who he was looking for and no one else. Sure, it was too soon for Dean to say that he was in love, but there was something there, a spark he never found with any of the others. The promise of a future with someone who could understand him, who was kind, who he could love. The fact that you were totally his type was just a bonus.

“Please wait for a moment, let me find something for you to eat, you must be starving.”

Seth -Sam- went to stop you, “oh, there is really no need. Shelter from the rain was all we were looking for.”

You made a dismissing gesture, “nonsense, what kind of host would I be if I did not offer you food?” You smiled sweetly at them. Dean’s heart skipped a beat. “Besides, I have some delicious leftover pie I made yesterday… it is not every day that I have such a delicacy.”

“Pie?” Dean’s stomach grumbled at the thought of it. You giggled at the reaction.

“It is apple, my favorite, wait here…” And before Sam could protest again, you disappeared into the other room.

For a second, neither of them spoke, then; “Sammy, I think I am going to marry her.”

Sam snickered, “why? Because of the pie?”

“No, not because of the pie…”

That night, you served them food and offered them a place to stay. When the clock stroke 3 a.m. and Sam had gone to sleep, you and Dean kept on talking. Eventually, you fell asleep at some point in the night. The last thing you remembered was being at the dining table, but you woke up in your room. You were still wearing the same clothes as the previous day, so at first, you had trouble recalling Dan and Seth’s visit. It was until you heard a masculine voice coming from outside your bedroom that everything came back to you.

You recollected permitting two strange men to stay in your house, which had been probably a very questionable decision. You wanted to help them stay away from the cold and prove that not everyone was unfriendly to travelers. Despite something in your common sense telling you that perhaps they could be bad for you, that they could do something to you, you had allowed them to stay. Now, in the morning, you did not regret it. The chat you had with Dan had been very special for you. You never had thought you would feel this way about someone, but there was a distinctive connection with him. You hadn’t had a good time with anyone else in a while, not the way you did with him.

As you made your way to the living room, you started to hear male voices, in your still-sleep brain, you did not recognize the clear difference from Seth and Dan’s voices. It was until you were right in front of them that you realized the people before you were not the travelers you helped yesterday. In your tiny and poor kitchen, Crown Prince Dean and Prince Sam stood. They were in such a deep discussion that they did not notice you at first, it was until you let out an audible gasp that they looked your way.

“Princes, what- what are you-?” Flabbergasted, you only managed to bow.

“Please, please, none of that,” Crown Prince Dean objected. When your eyes clashed with his, you had the feeling that you had seen them before, but different. It was shortly after that, that you found out the truth.

As the Princes explained to you that they were actually the man you previously allowed to stay in your home -Dan and Seth- they also ended up telling you everything about their plan. How the Crown Prince was indeed looking for a wife. How he struggled with that idea, and even more so with finding someone. They also told you about their plan to find the kindest woman in the village. You did not believe that was you, but you accepted their explanations as the truth. Foremost, because there was not an ounce of lies in their eyes, but mostly because you could feel with Dean the same connection you had with Dan. It also helped that they were still dressed in their previous clothing.

Finally, when Dean talked to you about marriage, you were considerably surprised, but not entirely opposed to the idea. You could understand that his father was pressuring him to settle down, but that did not mean you wanted to take away from him the possibility of choosing, even if he claimed he would rather marry you than any other of the girls he met. Ultimately, you agreed to marry because, in that short period of time, you had felt for him in a way you had not had for anyone. It was not a matter of the crown, the money, or not even about his looks, it was about Dean as a person. Dean was very happy once you accepted, and that very day, everyone in the kingdom heard the good news. Eventually, time would go by and that would be the story you’d tell your children. The story of a kind soul who allowed a traveler stay in her home.

Tags: @sweetwerewolfqueen @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @perpetualabsurdity @deanswaywardgirl @seppys-return-to-madness @hobby27 @desimarie12 @mrspeacem1nusone

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural #spn #fluff #protective!dean #soft!dean #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x OFC #dean winchester x female!reader #dean x female reader #baucis #philemon #retelling

[supernaturalfreewill]

reader pronouns: she/her Warnings: slightly creepy dude, Dean to the rescue Dean saw it easily; the discomfort on your face when all you wanted to do was slip past the guy and instead his hands landed on your waist as you moved by—gripping onto you in such an intimate way you almost stopped completely. He probably had some excuse about "passing you past" him but all Dean saw was the look on your face and how quickly you'd moved to put space between yourself and this guy who basically a complete stranger.

Once you were out of the room, the douchebag glanced over at Dean and gave him a crooked, conspiratorial smile. "Damn, she's something, huh?" he said with an appreciative laugh.

All Dean did was glare, and the smile died on his face. Dean's jaw clenched and he stepped right into the guy's face. "Buddy, if you lay a hand on her again, you're gonna lose it. In fact, if I see you making anyone else here uncomfortable or I see you getting a little handsy again, we'll be stepping outside."

A fight with The Dean Winchester was not something this guy wanted....

#protective!dean #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester drabbles #dean fluff #dean winchester imagines #spn #supernatural #spn imagines

[zepskies]

Series Masterlist - Never Say Goodbye

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. **(18+ only) | [Soulmate AU]

Series Tags/Warnings: Soulmate AU set in season 1 & 2, romance and fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, smut, and more chapter-specific tags. Could be considered a "fix it" fic (you'll see).

Part 1 - Proximity

Part 2 - Connection

Part 3 - Contact

Part 4 - Guessing Game

Part 5 - Self Defense

Part 6 - Trust Building

Part 7 - First Touch

Part 8 - Long Distance

Part 9 - Intensive Care

Part 10 - Worthy

Part 11 - Soul Bond

Part 12 - Home

Epilogue

Series is complete!

Bonus Tracks:

(3-Part Sequel)

#1: Disturbing the Peace

#2: One Last Hunt

#3: To Be Loved

Side B Tracks:

(Bonus One-Shots)

The Old-Fashioned Way You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution?

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female reader #dean x you #dean winchester fanfic #soulmate au #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #sam winchester #bobby singer #john winchester #fluff #protective!dean winchester #protective!dean #soulmates #supernatural #spn #spn fic #spn season 2 #spn season 1 #angst #hurt/comfort #smut #Yellow Eyes #never say goodbye #masterlist #zepskies writes

[psychicsamlover]

#protective!dean #hurt!sam #samdean #supernatural #classic spn #s2 #s2e05 #spn #simon said

[youchoseeachother]

This may be a hard and/or impossible choice, but do you prefer protective sam or protective dean?

(previously I was kaira-the-yellow-turtle, in case you were wondering who this is)

That's a good question!! Let's see.

What i LOVE about protective!sam is how immoral he becomes whenever dean is in danger. He usually cares or pretends to care about doing the right thing, especially in the later seasons. But if dean's life is on the line, he suggests to become organ harvesting monsters, he trades another man's life for dean's without even looking guilty about it, he makes a man sell his soul to find dean, etc. There is NOTHING he wouldn't do for dean!

On the other hand, you have dean "my job is to keep sam safe" winchester, whose desperation when sam is in danger is absolutely delicious. There's something in the way he so easily sacrifices himself every time sam's life is on the line – selling his soul, overdosing, etc. It's tragic and extremely sad and i love it.

What i also really love is how much dean WANTS to protect sam and wants sam to feel safe because of him. When sam is worried about ending up like max and dean answers "you have something max didn't have – me" and when sam tells him he needs god to exist so he can be saved and dean answers "don't worry about that i'm watching out for you" (what's god to a big brother?) and when sam is dying after the trials and dean tells him "i got you, you're gonna be just fine" like!!!! It's not even true that dean CAN protect him from those things! But he NEEDS sam to feel safe and protected and he needs to believe that he can save sam from anything. When he fails at that, like when he thinks sam got infected with the croatoan virus, he literally wants to kill himself over it :|

So if i REALLY had to pick i'd say protective!dean but they are both really good 🥰

#like dean WOULD set himself on fire to keep sam warm 💙 while sam would probably set someone else on fire #replies #protective!sam #protective!dean #also just to be clear my answers are always biased because - as much as i love sam - i prefer dean #so it's easier for me to remember things he said or did compared to sam

[spnexploration]

Collared part 39

Pairing: Dean x Reader eventually

Series summary: Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.

Episode summary: You have a nightmare.

Warnings: None

Word count: 2.8k

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 38 <- -> Part 40

Dean awoke to the sounds of a struggle, to occasional yelling and whimpering. His hand was on his gun before he'd even consciously woken up, but he pretty quickly recognised that the sounds were from you. He looked over and could see there was no external threat to you, you were having a nightmare. He left the gun where it was and got out of bed, quickly crossing to you.

You screamed just before he got to you. It broke his heart to see you so distressed.

He crouched down next to you and reached out to touch your shoulder. He gently shook it, trying to wake you up. When that didn't work, he started to tap your face.

You were just coming to when Sam opened the door, gun at the ready. He looked at Dean and mouthed “Nightmare?” Dean nodded. “You ok?” he mouthed again. Dean gave him the thumbs up and he backed out of the room again, closing the door behind him.

You looked up at Dean with confusion and fear written all over your face. “It's ok,” he murmured, “you were having a nightmare.”

Your breathing was heavy and your eyes darted around the room like you were scared something would jump out at you. He needed to calm you down. He sat down on the floor and gently coaxed you to come sit next to him. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you leant into him. He could feel you shaking.

“You're ok,” he said on repeat, trying to get through to you.

You started to reach up to touch his face, as if you weren't sure he was really there. Your other hand felt across his chest. He wondered for a second what you were doing, before realising it was like you were checking he was alive. He had a sudden inkling that perhaps he had died in your dream.

“I'm ok too, I'm here,” he tried. You did seem to calm down a fraction.

“Sam?” you whispered.

“He's fine too. He came in just before after he heard you scream, when I was waking you up.”

You were still looking worried and rubbing his chest, so he thought you might need some tangible proof. He managed to reach up to his phone on his bedside table. He sent Sam a message:

📱Can you come here? I think we died or something in her nightmare, she's a bit freaked out

He put the phone down and turned back to you, rubbing your back gently. Sam opened the door shortly after, giving you a small smile.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said gently. He came over and crouched next to Dean and you. You reached out to him and he squeezed your hand. “I'm ok.”

You looked at him for a moment and nodded, then turned your attention back to Dean. You other hand came to grip his collar, like you were worried he would vanish. Your nightmare must've really affected you.

Sam gave your hand a squeeze again and said, “You ok if I go back to bed now?” You nodded and he stood up and left the room. You were looking a little less terrified now, which Dean was happy about.

What he wasn't expecting was that you would suddenly burst into tears. He gave you a squeeze with the arm that was around your back.

“Hey, hey, what's wrong, sweetheart?”

“I thought it would be over with him gone. I thought I was better,” you sobbed. Fuck, he thought.

“Maybe your subconscious still needs to process. Or maybe it’s just an asshole, stuffed if I know how it works.” His joke fell flat. He wasn't that surprised.

Your other hand came up to clutch at his top too. It was like you were trying to get closer and closer to him.

He cleared his throat. “Umm, Y/N, do you want me to put you on my lap? It helped when you were upset and you had the collar on, but umm, obviously only if you want me to.”

You bit your lip and stiffened up, even through the tears. Crap, he thought, he's scared you off. He started to apologise but you cut him off.

“Yes,” you whispered.

He looked closely at your face, trying to see if you looked like you'd said it because you were afraid of him or felt the need to appease him. He saw no evidence of that, so he slipped his hand under your knees and lifted you around to sit across his lap. You leant into his chest and wrapped your hands in the front of his shirt.

He held you firmly and let you cry.

He didn't mind holding you like this at all, but he was starting to get uncomfortable sitting against the wall on his bedroom floor, with you on his lap. It was much easier when you'd had the collar on and he’d held you while he sat on the bed.

He tried to adjust you slightly, give some relief to the leg that was losing circulation. You froze. Crap, he thought.

“I can get off,” you mumbled through tears, moving to do so before he'd even had a chance to reply.

“No, sweetheart, you're fine. I just needed to move my leg a bit.”

“No, no, I'm in the way, this can't be comfortable for you.”

“You are not in the way, Bambi. But if you want me to be more comfortable, how would you feel if I sat on the bed with you?”

You bit your lip but then nodded. “We can get off any time you need,” he reassured you.

He gently placed you on the floor next to him, then stood up. You stood up yourself and followed him over to the bed. He sat up against the headboard and held out his hands to you. You were still sniffling and your eyes were red and puffy. You tentatively took his hand and he guided you up on to the bed and over to him. You visibly relaxed once he had you on his lap again.

It killed him to think about what had happened to you to make you so terrified of being on furniture.

After a short while, you started to calm down fully, brushing away your tears.

“Sorry, Dean,” you mumbled, looking embarrassed.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I’m a grown-ass woman, I can’t believe I’ve forced my, what, housemate to let me sleep in his room and to hold me while I cry.”

“I’m your housemate?” He wasn't sure why, but he hated being called that by you.

You bit your lip, “I couldn’t think of a better word…”

“Well, anyway,” he said, returning to the topic, “I googled about healing from umm, traumatic shit. And I dunno, I reckon maybe you hadn’t actually confronted it yet. All the shit that happened. It reckoned crying was good, at least once.”

“You googled for me?”

“Uh, yeah... Sorry.”

“No, don't apologise, it's sweet.”

 “So, you know, fuck what other people do or think, they’re not living this shit.”

You smiled, “Thanks, Dean.” You looked around awkwardly, like you'd just realised you were on his lap on his bed. “I, umm, should get back to bed...” You looked at your blankets on the floor with a strange expression on your face. You shivered and he realised: you were scared.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something with me?” he asked.

“Umm, yes, please,” you mumbled. “Nothing, umm, nothing scary or violent...”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” He looked around to where his laptop was, and realised he couldn't reach it without getting you off him. You seemed to realise too, sliding off his lap to sit on the bed next to him. He tried not to ogle, but he was pretty sure the whole reason you'd been sitting on him was because you felt you couldn't sit on the bed. You hadn't been that upset when they'd moved off the floor, hadn't absolutely needed the comfort. And now, here you were, sitting alone on the bed.

He hastily got up to get the laptop, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. Maybe you hadn't even realised what you'd done.

He brought the laptop back and sat next to you, watching to see what you did. You leant in and looked at the list of movies, peacefully sitting next to him. He followed your lead and scrolled through them, waiting until you picked one.

He set it up, then returned to sitting next to you against the headboard. You seemed engrossed in the film, seemingly not even noticing you were sitting on the bed without even touching him.

He spent more time watching you, surreptitiously, than watching the movie.

Slowly, you started to lean on him. He got the feeling you were getting tired again, as your head lowered on to his shoulder. A minute or two later, you were asleep.

He wondered what to do. He was happy to have you sleep in his bed if it helped you sleep better, but would that freak you out when you woke in the morning? Should he put you back in your blankets on the floor? But would you feel rejected if he did that?

You'd looked afraid of going back to your blankets, where you'd had your horror nightmare, so he decided to let you stay on his bed. He’d deal with the fallout in the morning, if it came.

He carefully manoeuvred you down so you were under the covers with your head on a pillow. He felt like he was diffusing a bomb, trying not to wake you.

He put the laptop away and pulled himself under the covers too. He sent Sam a quick text:

📱She's asleep again. In my bed. If she freaks out later, show her this. Nothing happened. We watched a movie and she fell asleep. I thought she'd sleep better here.

After a moment, he sent another one:

📱I hope I haven't fucked up.

---

You started to wake up. You felt warm, comfortable. You could hear the comforting noises of Dean breathing in his sleep, although they sounded closer- FUCK! You opened your eyes. You were literally lying in his bed!

The man was a freaking saint, the way he let you just take all his stuff!

You took a moment to admire his sleeping face. He looked so much more peaceful and at ease. And he was gorgeous, even without being able to see his beautiful eyes.

He must be so sick of you taking up his space, demanding his time, waking him up.

You looked around. You were in a bed. It was a little unsettling. You trusted that Dean wasn’t going to hurt you – he’d had plenty of opportunities for that, and hadn’t taken them. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that bad things happened in beds.

This was absurd. Why couldn’t you just use furniture like a normal person? Why couldn’t you just leave your housemates and their personal space alone? What were you, 3?

Berating yourself, you crept out of Dean’s bed, trying not to wake him. You grabbed your pillow and blanket from the floor and eased open the door, carefully shutting it behind you.

You headed to your own room, quietly opening the door. A few clothes had been unceremoniously dumped on the floor and the bed. You took a look at the bed and all of your courage and determination evaporated.

You lay down on the floor.

---

Dean awoke and quickly opened his eyes. You weren’t in the bed. You weren’t on the floor. Your pillow and one of your blankets was gone.

Fuck.

He picked up his phone. No message from Sam. He was worried about going out there if you were upset with him. What if he’d caused you a panic attack? What if he gave you another one by surprising you somewhere?

He messaged Sam:

📱She ok?

He waited.

And waited.

It hadn’t even been read yet.

He hovered over Sam’s name then hit the dial button. This couldn’t wait. What if you’d left the bunker?

Sam answered on the second ring. “What’s wrong?” he asked blearily.

“I need you to find Y/N.”

“Shit, where have you already looked?”

“No, I mean, I need you specifically to do it.”

“Uh, what? Why?”

“Because after she had her nightmare she came and sat with me on my bed watching a movie and then she fell asleep. I didn’t move her. But now she’s gone and so is her blanket and pillow from the floor. What if I freaked her out? What if she’s terrified of me because she woke up in my bed?”

“Oh. Right. Umm, ok. So you haven’t gone looking if she’s in her room or the kitchen or anything?”

“No, what if I freak her out more?”

“Ah, ok. I’ll go have a look and I’ll let you know. But Dean, she’s probably fine.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Ok, ok, I’m going.”

---

Sam knocked gently on your door.

“Come in,” you called. You sounded normal, from what he could tell through the door, which was reassuring. He eased the door open and stepped inside.

You were sitting on the floor in your blanket. You smiled when you looked up at him, looking ok if a little tired after your limited sleep last night. “How are you?” he asked gently.

“I’m ok, thanks Sam. Rough nightmare but I’m fine now.”

Ordinarily, he would leave you at that, or see if you wanted to get some breakfast. But he knew Dean was currently freaking out, so he felt he needed to pursue a little more.

“I wouldn’t normally pry, but... are you upset with Dean?”

“What? No. Why?”

“He’s currently hiding in his room terrified that you’ve left the bunker for good and/or that you’ll have a panic attack at the mere sight of him.”

Your face was a picture of confusion. “Why would he think that?”

Sam dug his phone out of his pocket and opened to his text conversation with Dean. He double checked the messages above the ones from last night and then decided it was all ok for you to see. He held it out to you.

He watched your face as you read. “Oh... Oh,” you said half to yourself. “He’s woken up and I’m not there, so he thinks I freaked out when I woke up in his bed.”

Sam nodded, happy he didn’t have to explain his brother. Better if you made your own connections.

“Umm, l’ll go talk to him.”

---

You knocked slightly on Dean’s door and then pushed it open. He paused in what was clearly his pacing and looked to the door. A number of expressions appeared to cross his face as he looked at you, but too quickly for you to identify them all.

“H-hey,” he said, looking like he was trying to be cooler than he really felt.

“Hey, Dean. Sorry I, umm, scared you.”

“I- I wasn’t – I wasn’t scared,” he said, looking exactly how someone who was lying would look.

You lifted your eyebrow.

“Ok, ok, I was worried. I thought you might think I’d done something to you, and I know you don’t like furniture.”

“Not fragile, remember,” you said, a little sullenly.

“I’m not trying- that’s not what I- I don’t mean to-”

You felt bad, that had been a bit harsh. “Dean, it’s ok. I totally get why you thought that. I really am sorry I scared you, you were just being considerate. And you looked after me for ages in the middle of the night.” He was looking relieved. “But that’s why I left, I have to stop taking up your space, intruding on your whole life.”

He frowned, “You’re not intruding on my whole life.”

“Yes, I am. And I’m so screwed up you think that leaving me in your bed where I literally fell asleep is likely to make me terrified of you.”

“No, I think that you have a justifiable reason for jumping to conclusions. But also, you know what I really thought last night? I thought ‘Look at how much progress she’s made, she doesn’t even notice she’s sitting up here and enjoying the movie’.”

“You- really?” Your voice totally changed, surprised. “That’s what you thought?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I- I- I dunno,” you mumbled.

Dean looked at you for a moment, then he said gently, “I know you’re struggling to find your place in the world; believe me, I’ve been there. But you don’t have to throw everything out to prove yourself.” He took a breath, considering, then added, “I’ve said this before and it’s still true. You were entitled to comfort with the collar and you still are. And if you want it from me, well, I’m easy.”

You started to giggle. He frowned, but you could tell he was joking, “Jeez Y/N, everything’s innuendo to you.”

“I mean, I have seen your penis.”

“See, that one right there, that’s innuendo.”

.

.

.

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[codependentfreaks]

tell me your favorite protective!Dean fics, I'm starving

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