#supernatural fan fic

[1000roughdrafts]

Just Another Day

Summary: Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Warnings: some language (like 2-3 words), light mentions of angst, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Not betad, all mistakes are my own 😊 and bear with me, I’m a little rusty 🥰 happy love day 🥰

Valentine's Day has never really been a favorite of mine, let alone anything I'd consider more than 'just a day'. Hell, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, even birthdays are all just 'another day' for me. It's kind of difficult not to harbor ill feelings about them after constantly being let down by the people in my life, one broken promise after another.

Dean and Sam have kept every promise they've made, though. In fact, they're managing to break down my walls bit by bit from stolen candy on Halloween to a fried chicken meal with beer on Thanksgiving all while living in cheap motels chasing monsters. When I told them this morning that I just wanted to hunt as usual for the day, I couldn't help but to feel a tad disappointed that they agreed. Bit by bit, I'm breaking my own rules about not getting my hopes up on holidays.

This is our first Valentine's Day as a couple, and I've known Dean long enough to know that chocolate and flowers aren't exactly his style. But I can count on him to bring me a piece of pie "just because" or he'll clean my weapons for me after a particularly grueling hunt because he knows all I want to do is shower and get in bed.

After a long day of exorcising demons, we are on the road again. Burnin' For You by Blue Oyster Cult plays low on the radio, but the clattering of rain on the roof has my full attention. Sam loudly rifles through the papers in his lap with one hand, flashlight held in the other, hesitant to ever let himself relax. Dean's eyes flicker between the road and the rear-view mirror to periodically check on me.

"Hey, you seem off today, you okay?" Dean asks, picking up on my vacant eyes and slight frown.

I suck in a breath, inhaling the scent of the Black Ice air freshener and a hint of stale whiskey, "yeah," I say curtly, keeping my eyes on the trees swaying in the wind as we drive past, lit only by the moon above us. The wind howls against the windows of the Impala, sneaking in and covering my skin with goosebumps.

His face scrunches a bit and he nods before the tick of the blinker signals that he's turning off the highway. I feel a twinge of discomfort knowing we're only minutes away from the motel now. As much as I hate the numbness I feel in my butt and thighs, there is something meditative about being a passenger on a long drive.

We pass an abandoned gas station before I can see the dim lights of the Wandering Inn. Dean parks us by the front desk, leaving the Impala to run with a soft purr as he gets us a key to a room. Neither Sam nor I take our time getting the bags together, so by the time Dean is back out and we find a parking spot near the room, we're ready to head in.

The door whines as Dean pushes it open, immediately palming the peeling wall for a light switch. The overhead light flickers a few times before settling on a weak glow, and before I can even shut the door behind us, the smell of burnt dust and old pledge assaults my nose. I glance around the small room. The musky yellow walls seem to make it feel even smaller, somehow.

Dean turns to me with outstretched arms and a smile, asking for my bags. I dutifully and sleepily hand them over, not realizing the weight they bared until the relief of their absence waves over me. Dean nods his head towards the bathroom, "ladies first on a shower," he says softly. His boots click on the tile as he walks over to toss our bags onto the bed, plopping down next to them to remove his boots.

In a few short strides I head over to grab my bag for the bathroom, stopping in front of him to plant a kiss on his forehead. His eyes, droopy and half-closed, look up at me in a smile. He places his hands my back, thumbs rubbing circles on my skin as he pulls me in for a kiss.

"Thanks for first shower, Dean," I say, letting my hands rest on his shoulders.

His eyebrows rise and fall before he says, "yeah, well, by the looks of it, you need it more than we do tonight."

My ear to ear smile is real, but I fake a laugh before pulling away. "Whatever," I say, but I slowly lose my smile on the way to my shower. Dean's ability to pick up on even the most subtle of changes in me are a testament to how great of a hunter he is, and even greater boyfriend. How he can't pick up on how torn I'm feeling about this wretched day I've no idea. What conflicts me further is that I know it's my responsibility to share these feelings with him. Dean may have an attention to detail I haven't seen in a partner in, well, ever, but he's not a mind reader.

The tile of the bathroom is cold under my feet, so I remove my shirt to stand on it while I wait for the water to heat up. I hear the guys shuffling and moving things in the room, keeping their voices hush, but I'm too tired to give a shit. Waving a hand under the water I decide that it's the perfect temperature and remove the rest of my clothes to get in.

I don't even realize how tense I am until the water hits my shoulders, nearly forcing me to relax under it. My body's reflexes take over and I go into autopilot as I think about today and Valentine's Day is already almost over, but we did nothing… at my request. I roll my eyes at myself, brushing my teeth while the conditioner sits in my hair. The scent of fruit and mint fill the room among the steam. When I rinse my hair, I imagine I'm rinsing the day away.

The mirror is completely fogged up by the time I get out. With slightly damp skin, and a towel wrapped around my head, I struggle to get my clothes on, and it frustrates me.

I open the door and allow the steam to pour into our room, and I'm immediately hit with a surprising smell. It's almost as if someone is roasting marshmallows in our motel room. I take a small, careful step and peek just my head out, eyes zeroing in on the lit candles on the table.

My eyes skip over to Dean who sits on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, a single flower in one hand, and a mix-tape in the other. Beneath his feet is a trail of rose petals leading to the door of the bathroom. He keeps his eyes on me, a smile peaking through his lips as he awaits my next move.

Sam's eyes and mine meet before he offers an awkward smile and shuffles a few things around on his bed. He grabs his shower bag, and I take a few steps towards Dean to allow him to enter the bathroom. Dean and I are both silent until the door closes behind Sam.

"What is all this, Dean?" I asks, astonished. Moldy motel room, or 5 star suite, never in my life has anyone laid out rose petals for me. I feel my heart racing like it's ready to burst right out of my chest.

Dean smiles, standing to hand me the flower with a kiss on my cheek. My skin is warm where his lips just were, and he reaches to take my hand, guiding me to sit on our bed.

He notices my eyes glance down at the mix tape before jumping back up to his. "I've been working on this for a few weeks now," he says, shaking the tape in his hand before handing it to me.

My hand shakes when I grab it, and I flip it to see "To my Y/N/N, Love Dean," scribbled on the front. My cheeks grow hot again, but this time with embarrassment that I'd spent the whole day thinking about myself, when here's Dean blowing expectations right out of the water.

"It's, uh, all the songs that remind me of you," he says softly, and I notice the scent of my favorite candle as the flame burns. My head spins.

"I don't know what to say, Dean," I start, and he just smiles, caressing my hand with his calloused fingers, "I mean, thank you. This is the kindest, most loving thing anyone has ever done for me," I say, tears welling in my eyes.

It's overwhelming to think a personal could love someone so much that amidst hunting Heaven, Hell and everything in between he could find the time to make this moment so special.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't cry," he says, arms wrapping around me, pulling me in for a tight hug.

"I'm not crying, Dean," I contest, but I nuzzle my face into his soft, comforting shirt, allowing my arms to wrap around his torso, and under the warmth of his jacket.

I soak in the smell of his sandalwood cologne and tighten my arms around him. Kissing his chest, I mutter another "thank you" before lifting my head to look him in the eyes. He brings his hand to either side of my face, eyes looking back and forth between mine, "you're very welcome," he says, kissing me with a tenderness that takes my breath away, and I realize that it's moments like these that I want to fill my heaven with.

~~~~

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#dean x reader fluff #supernatural fan fiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader valentine's day #dean winchester x y/n #fluff #spn #supernatural dean #queued #supernatural fandom #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fic #supernatural fan fic #dean winchester #supernatural #fanfic

[queen-of-deans-booty]

His Anchor

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: MoC!Dean, fluff at the end

Request by @jessicalynnann: how about mark of Cain dean and he is an ass to everyone but the reader. He is all fluffy and lovely dovey with the reader and one night he has had enough of her cuteness and just kisses her… maybe she tells him about a book she is reading… 

Summary: Dean is affected by the Mark in ways you and Sam don't realize, and he's trying not to let it affect others around him. However, there is only one person who can lift his spirits even when he's shrouded in darkness.

Square Filled: the first blade (2019) for @heavenandhellbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

x

Dean sits alone at the library table with just a dim lamp to light the room and a glass of alcohol next to him. He hasn’t been doing good as of late because of the fucking Mark on his arm. It’s a constant reminder of how much he’s got to lose, and it’s taken over his life. He wants the damn thing removed but he’d be putting people in danger if he does. This Mark has already claimed so much of his life that he’s trying to hold onto whatever he has left, refusing to give into it more.

He traces the edge of the Mark with his index finger and goosebumps crawl up his arm immediately. There’s something raw in the danger that befalls the Mark including the First Blade. He’s used it plenty of times to kill those who deserve it even though it itches for more. The First Blade will never be satisfied with how many kills Dean gives it because there is a purity in how many victims it can claim.

Including himself. In the end, he’ll fall victim to his own blade. Would he die? Would the Mark allow him the sweet relief of death?

“Hey, you alright? Why is it so dark in here?”

Dean is pulled from his thoughts and looks up at his brother who has entered the room.

“What do you want?” Dean asks and turns the brightness up on the lamp.

“I might have found a lead on Metatron. He’s the only one that’s gonna have information on the Mark.”

Dean is so sick and tired of hearing how his brother found a lead only for that lead to turn up dead. He’s been led on by hope far too many times only for it to bite him in the ass later.

“Sammy, how many times do I have to tell you? Stop looking for the cure. It’s pointless if it means a lot of people are gonna be hurt in the process.”

“I know but this time is different. Listen to this. Rowena is a really old witch. She comes from the same kind of magic as the Mark, so I figure if we can get to Metatron, then--”

Dean slams his glass onto the table, shattering it to pieces. His hand bleeds but he doesn’t care about that. Sam jumps at the sudden noise and stares at his brother with uncertainty in his eyes.

“Don’t make me smack you.”

Sam’s shoulders sag in defeat.

“Fine. Whatever.”

The younger brother leaves to investigate this on his own. If Dean isn’t gonna help him then he’ll do everything himself. Dean knows he will never give up because that’s not what they do. If it were Sam who took this Mark on, then Dean would be the same way. Dean shakes his head and grabs another glass from the small cart by the table and pours himself another drink. He has bigger things to worry about than the Mark like Rowena, Cain, the Book of the Damned, and just about every fucking thing in his life.

You walk into the library with a book in your hand and Dean’s mood becomes ten times better. Everything in his life is fucked up but you. You’re the light in all this darkness and he’s so scared you’ll end up hurt because of him. You look up and smile when you see Dean but the smile is lost when you see the pieces of glass on the table.

“Hey, where’s Sam?” you ask.

“Doing nerdy things,” Dean shrugs.

“Okay, can I talk to you about this book I just finished? Like I need to tell someone.”

“Sure,” he chuckles and welcomes the distraction.

“Okay,” you rush to the table and sit next to him, “so the main character, Alana, works at this big company that everyone knows about and she feels trapped doing the same shit every single day. She wants to be doing more with her life but doesn’t know where to start or what she should be doing. That is, until the CEO of the company, Marcel started doing some shady shit. She tries to find out what he’s been up to, and it turns out that he’s making this serum that will make him rule the universe or some shit like that. She’s like hell no so she tries to foil his plans but ends up as his test subject! She tries to escape him but he ended up giving her the serum since he needed a human subject. This whole big fight happens between them but I was not expecting that turn of events!”

Dean isn’t paying attention to a goddamn word you’re saying. You’re so passionate and happy about this book you’re reading that he’s focused on your smile, the way your eyes light up, and how you can’t sit still. You give him joy like no other. How did he ever cope before he met you?

“Are you even listening to me? Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask.

Dean can’t help but grab your chair and pull you closer to him. He slides his big hands into your hair and plants his lips on your impulsively. You haven’t felt his lips in over a year since he kissed you when he was ass-backward drunk. You thought he never brought it up because he was drunk, but he didn’t want the one good thing in his life to go away if he confessed how he felt about you.

He pulls away from you and watches as your mouth opens and closes like you don’t know what to do. Your cheeks heat up in nervousness because you were not expecting that at all.

“Oh, okay,” you stutter.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I’m glad I found you and not Sam.”

“So, how did Alana escape Marcel?”

Just like that, you’re back to passionately talking about your book. You’re the only thing anchoring him down and keeping him sane, and he needs a bit of that right now.

x

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dena winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fiction #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst

[moosealecki]

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖... (𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

| ・゜゜・．satisfying a request for my best friend, so she can live out her fantasyyyyyy, here’s to you babe. Enjoy.

| pairings; dean x reader

| warnings; insults, aggression, touching, foreplay, smut, after-care

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

“Can you for ONCE, make up your mind on just one fucking thing.”

“First off, dean if you want to keep that tongue of yours, I suggest you watch your tone with me.” she rolled her eyes, returning her attention back to the radio, flipping through the stations.

“How about we just not listen to anything?” Sam chimed in from the backseat.

“Shut up assclown.” They both responded in sync. Not even realizing it.

“Oh, absolutely NOT.”

“Don’t you start dean; Taylor is a goddess.”

“I do not care, this is my car, my music, I will not be forced to listen to this shit.”

She ignored his protests, turning up the dial on the volume as she sang loudly to the lyrics. Knowingly it was just annoying the older Winchester even more.

Once they arrived back at the bunker, his ears radiated from the torture of listening to ‘Taylor Swift’ for the last hour. (Y/N) was still humming to the tune of the last song from one of her favorite albums by Taylor. Sam quickly scurried inside to avoid further arguing between them.

Dean made his way to the kitchen, grasping a cold bottle of beer from the fridge. Popping the cap and chugging the liquid down. (Y/N) walking into the kitchen she brushed past him, grabbing a cold Pepsi.

“Why do you have to purposely keep provoking me?”

“I don’t do anything, that sounds like a ‘you’  problem d-e-a-n-o” she taunted, knowing she was just digging further under his skin. Something about his aggressive nature was attractive, but she never admitted that in the open.

Dean would finish off his beer, his green hues never leaving her. She was annoying but feisty, it was attractive, but he ALSO wouldn’t admit that in the open. He would turn to lean against the countertop. “Pft, brat,” he mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“What?”

“You want to try saying that to my face?” she turned towards him, placing the can down on the counter. She walked over to him until she was now standing directly in front of him.

Dean licked his lips as he arched a brow, he leaned in slightly closer as he mouthed the words this time slower. “I called you a b-r-a-t” he spoke, his eyes looking her up and down for a moment. The deadly silence between them, although the tension was evident.

“Have you guys seen my---oh nope never mind.” Sam beginning to walk into the kitchen, and then immediately turned around to head back to his bedroom.

“ You talk a big game Dean, but we both know you don’t act on shit.” she bit down on her bottom lip.

Dean had enough of her sassy shit for one night, he grasped her by the throat yanking her up against his lips. The tongue delved between her lips and into her mouth. He would turn her around and force her up onto the counter. His other hand moved up her thigh. Fingers bruising against her flesh. (Y/N) let out a breathy moan when his lips traveled from her own onto her neck, his tongue swirling over her skin and purpling the skin beneath his lips.

(Y/N) pushing him slightly off, her breathing increasing as she wasted no time to slide off her shirt, Dean following her lead as he threw his shirt to the ground. His hands moved back to grasp both sides of her face again, smashing lips together, his hand venturing down from her face to her neck, down her backside to unclasp her bra, letting it fall with ease. His lips moved from her own again to wrap around the nipple of her breasts. Pulling and tugging at it, his other hand pinching at her other nipple, sending stimulation throughout her body. He removed his hand, as he moved to pop the button of her shorts, sliding his hand inside with ease. Meeting the coated wet lace, moving it to the side to see the damage he had caused. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Oh, shut up, and just fuck me.” she protested, as her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing along his neckline. She felt his fingers meet her numb, flicking over it made her wince, biting down on her bottom lip as she arched her back slightly. Dean groaning, his erection building behind his jeans, aching to be released and inside of her. (Y/N) would decide to busy her hands working to undo his belt buckle, then his jeans, using her legs to shift them down. Dean worked his fingers, hooking two inside of her while his thumb rubbed over her sensitive numb.

After a few moments of working her up, Dean was over it, he would remove his hand grasping her thighs again as he forced her up to wrap her legs around him, and he would move to slam her down onto the table. Removed his jeans and then boxers fully, ripping off her shorts and then underwear. Climbing on top of her, he would delve his head down to capture her lips again, one hand moving to grasp her thigh pulling it up and around his waist, his other hand moving to line himself up with her entrance.

He was greeted with a welcoming wetness, sliding the tip slowly inside of her. Worked himself to stretch her walls to get used to his length. “Oh fuck.” She moaned out, “I can go slower if you want?” “No, it’s perfect,” she spoke breathlessly. He did this for a few more moments before she started to rock her hips, wanting him to go faster. Dean getting the idea, as he moved to place both her arms above her head, he would thrust himself deep inside of her, feeling her walls enclose around his hardened length. The pair shared quite a few moans and groanings of pleasure, the table rocked as Dean picked up the pace, his hips rolling into her with ease. Skin clapping against one another, “Oh fuck baby, oh fuck right there—” (Y/N) felt him hit her g-spot perfectly, her cries growing louder, not even caring about who else could hear them. The tension was only climbing between them, which was bound to happen.

The damn of her orgasm exploding around him, once her arms were released, she clawed her nails into the sides of his biceps, leaving her own marking. Dean felt the ocean of her orgasm submerge his member. He would make her ride out her high, moving to take her other leg and placing them both up and against her chest, as he pounded deeper inside of her. Feeling his hardened length throbbing for a release, he moaned out when he finally felt his spurt of hot cum shoots deep inside of her, filling her up to the core.

The sweat dripped from his forehead, as he leaned down after releasing her legs, capturing the taste of her salty tasted lips against his own. His hand moving to grasp her throat again, exchanging tongues, he would part his lips from her own.

Gathering their clothes, Dean needed to clean up the mess they made. Knowing Sam would avoid the kitchen for a good couple of days if he knew what had taken place. He would grasp her hand as he moved to take her back to his bedroom. “You can uh shower, and sleep here. I’ll take the couch.”

“No—uh I mean, can you stay?” she asked in a more relaxed tone of voice. Dean would accept, that after the showers of washing off the moment they had together, they both crawled into the bed. He moved to turn off the table side lamp, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his chest.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑠; @lucishellhound @isabellacugliari-blog ☽︎ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

#supernatural fan fic #spn fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction

[waywardxwords]

I Always Have

Summary: Dean reluctantly agrees to visit a haunted house with you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: Slight language, small mention of claustrophobia, fluff!

A/N: Day 3 of the #flufftober2023 (@flufftober) prompt challenge! The prompt is: "Wait, you love me?" - "I always have." Side note: if you are on my tag list, I am planning/attempting to post once a day during the month of October. I know that’s a lot of tags and mentions, so if you’d like to be removed you can do so through the Tag List linked in my bio.

Enjoy!

Haunted Houses weren’t really Dean’s thing…well, of course real haunted houses were. But this was different. This wasn’t haunted by real spirits or monsters; mostly just local high school and college students who needed extra money in the fall so they dressed up like ghosts and ghouls. 

Dean had always hated the idea of actually visiting a haunted house. “You’re gonna pay money to go into an old building and have idiot kids try to scare you? Seriously? That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.” 

“It’s not just a haunted house, Deanie,” you had egged him on with the nickname he didn’t seem to appreciate. “It’s the pumpkins, and the apple cider, and that fun feeling of experiencing fall and Halloween as a kid.” He had just rolled his eyes. You loved getting under his skin, and as much as you would tell Sam you didn’t know why, you knew (and Sam knew, for that matter).

“Would you two just kiss already?” Sam had teased you from the kitchen of the bunker one night after you had poked and pushed on Dean so hard he had given up and retreated to his bedroom. 

“Ew,” you had forced yourself to shudder at the thought. “Don’t make me puke.”

He laughed so hard he tossed his head back as he did it. “Yeah, okay. The tension between you two is about to make me puke, so do me a favor and just keep it outta the main living areas, got it?” He wasn’t able to dodge the sponge you had been washing dishes with as you tossed it right at his head. 

So here you stood on this October night in the bunker looking at Dean blankly. You blinked twice. 

“You comin’ or not?” He drawled with mock frustration as he pulled his army green jacket over his red and black buffalo plaid flannel. He grabbed the keys off of the counter top and looked at you expectantly. 

“You’re taking me to the haunted house?” You still didn’t believe him. 

“I was plannin’ on it, but you better hurry the hell up before I change my mind,” he grumbled but couldn’t hide the tug at the corner of his lips as you practically squealed and ran by him to get your jacket. 

“Dude,” Sam eyed his brother as soon as you were out of ear shot. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” Dean held up his hand and went to wait for you in the Impala. 

“What made you change your mind?” You finally asked as Dean pulled the Impala into a parking spot in the dirt field. There were tons of other cars—this wasn’t just a haunted house, but a haunted trail as well and you could hardly hide your excitement. 

“I was tired of hearin’ you bitch and moan,” he shot you a cheesy, over exaggerated smile with his eyes squinted. You rolled your eyes and flung the door open. “Hey, careful with my Baby!” He chirped, his face suddenly morphed into a small scowl. 

“I’m not gonna hurt your precious car, Deanie,” you teased as you met him by the front of the Impala. Each step you took almost had a skip to it, and you couldn’t help yourself as you slipped your arm through his and linked it just at his elbow. 

You weren’t sure if you imagined it, but you felt like his demeanor softened. The two of you walked like that as your boots crunched against the gravel and dirt. There were quite a few others there and a line had formed. The trail was dark but lit by yellow glowing lanterns strung from trees and solar path lights on the ground. 

“Fifteen dollars per person,” there was a teenaged boy at the front of the line with a cash box. Dean’s scowl returned. “Cash only.” He added on at the end. 

“Seriously? Fifteen bucks?” He looked at the kid who just pointed to the sign taped to the front of the table he was at. It read in printed font, ‘$15 per adult’. “Great,” Dean fumbled in his back pocket for his wallet. 

“I got it, Dean. You brought me here and I know it’s not your thing,” you reached for your cross body bag to fish out the money. 

“I got it,” Dean huffed as he retrieved a $20 and a $10 from his leather wallet. “Here.” He handed it to the kid. The kid nodded you both into the event. “What first? Trail or house?” 

“Hmm,” you pondered, your excitement had returned. “Let’s do the trail first.” Your eyes wandered for a second and a squeal left your lips again before you could reign it back in as your gaze noticed a booth just ahead. 

“Jesus Christ,” Dean mumbled, but there was a slight chuckle tucked behind it. 

“Apple cider!” You practically pulled him towards the stand. There was no line, so you were under the lights of the vendor almost immediately. “Two apple ciders, please.” This time, you were sure to pull out your wallet first. 

“That’ll be six dollars,” the woman returned with two cups of cider. You handed her the cash and handed a cup to Dean. 

“Cheers!” You beamed as you clinked your paper cup against his. You noticed a small eye roll from him, but he obliged and took a sip. 

He made a sour face. “Why do you love this stuff?” He rubbed his lips together to get the sweet sticky substance off. 

“I think the real question is, how do you not love this kinda stuff,” you threw back at him as you looped your arm back through his and slowly walked towards the trail. “Halloween is so magical, Dean! It’s literally the best time of year. I think they’ve even polled people on that and determined it is actually the majority's favorite time of the year.”

“Yeah, well, they forgot to poll me on that one,” he grumbled. “We fight this stuff every day. Not this stuff, because it’s fake. But the real deal—the kinda stuff that could kill us. How are you not jaded by that?”

You took a moment before you answered. Your feet stopped moving, so Dean’s stopped too. He turned to look at you as your arm fell out of his. 

“When I was a kid, my Dad loved Halloween. I swear, his whole mood changed when fall rolled around. He built a wooden casket and rigged it with fishing wire to open when our front door opened. We scared every kid that came to our house. And kids would literally come from all over to get spooked,” the memory brought a smile to your lips. “I didn’t even want to trick-or-treat half the time. I just wanted to be at home with my Dad scaring the local middle schoolers. My Dad could be difficult,” your smile fell for a moment as other memories tried to make their way through—memories that Dean was well versed in at this point in your friendship. “But when Halloween came around? Man, those were the best days.”

Dean was silent as his eyes watched your face. He saw the emotions ebb and flow as you spoke. He nodded once. “Okay, then,” he said simply. “Let’s go get spooked.” This time, he held his arm out for you to link yours through, causing you to smile. 

The trail ended up being more hilarious than terrifying. But you and Dean had thoroughly enjoyed watching others jump and yell as they made their way through. 

Next up, the haunted house. This was a little bit different than the trail, as the hallways were so tightly constructed, only one person could walk ahead at a time. You shuddered slightly as you waited, but it was enough for Dean to notice.

“Oh, come on,” he teased as he glanced over his shoulder at you. “You’re not scared, are you?”

Your face scrunched at him as you gave him a slight nudge. “Not scared,” you emphasized. “Just jumpy…” sounds of other haunted house goers ahead of you erupted from just inside the corridor–it made you excited all over again. 

It was your turn to enter the main hallway next. They paused between groups to give everyone the full experience. Dean led the way with you closely behind. The house was even darker than outside, if possible, so it took your eyes a second or two to adjust. 

There were fake cobwebs and a strobe light tucked away somewhere that sent flashes of light in the hall. Screams filled your ears, and you weren’t sure if they were from other patrons or if there was an audio playing in the background—probably the latter. Your eyes danced around in sensory overload as you tried to take it all in. As Dean rounded the first corner, you missed the memo that there were holes cut out in the wall, so when the first pair of hands reached out followed by someone growling behind the plywood, you couldn’t help the way your body jumped or the scream that followed. 

Dean tossed his head back in laughter and turned briefly to look at you. Your heart beat pretty hard against your chest, but you still reached out to swat at him. He surprised you by catching your wrist with his large palm and carefully pulled your arms so they were around his middle. He held them there, and you realized he was giving you something to hold onto. 

“Alright, Kat Harvey,” he referenced your favorite Casper-loving character from the classic ghost movie. “You’re alright.” The hum of his voice vibrated through the layers of clothing on his back. Even though you didn’t feel scared anymore, you couldn’t pull your arms away. 

You inched behind Dean throughout the rest of the haunted house, laughter erupted from both of you as teenagers tried to scare you. It was refreshing to see Dean laugh—truly laugh—and it made you smile. 

As you exited the house, he released your hands he had clutched against his middle and cleared his throat. “That was…”

“I know, I know,” you rolled your eyes as you shook off the empty feeling you felt without his touch. “It was lame, you can say it.”

He hesitated for a moment as he looked back to the house and then shrugged towards you. “Nah, I was gonna say it was actually kinda fun.” A smile tugged at his lips. 

“Oh…” you grinned back. “Yeah, it was fun. Thanks for bringing me here, Dean.” You tucked a fallen strand of hair behind your ear and turned to head back to the parking lot. 

“Where are you going?” He asked. When you turned back, you noticed he hadn’t moved from his spot. 

“Uh…back to the car? That was all you had signed up for…heck, you kinda threw me a bone agreeing to do both the trail and the haunted house.”

“Nuh uh,” he shook his head. “I spent thirty bucks to get us in here. There’s a pumpkin carving booth over there. You said ‘pumpkins, apple cider and haunted houses’. We’re doin’ all three, dammit,” he said firmly but followed it up with a smile. 

Your eyes beamed at at him and you bit your bottom lip gently before striding back over to him, “God, I love you.” Your breath caught in your throat after the last word and you froze. With widened eyes, you refused to meet his gaze. 

There was a long pause that felt much longer than it probably was. But very quietly you heard his voice, “Wait, you love me?”

You paused again, but put on your big girl panties and turned to him slowly. “I always have.”

His eyes watched you closely for a moment, and then he moved to you so smoothly. His lips brushed against yours for a moment before he pulled away, but went in for another. 

“I love you, too,” he murmured gently just as your lips parted. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach before he held his arm out for you once more. “Let’s go carve some pumpkins.” He smiled at you, and this time you knew it was different. It was a smile of contentment. Like everything he had needed, had come to fruition in that moment. 

“Let’s,” you beamed back at him as you tucked your arm through his. He leaned towards you for one more kiss before you made your way to the pumpkin carving station. While you weren’t sure what this meant or how your life was about to change, it didn’t matter at that moment. You had pumpkins, apple cider, haunted houses and Dean Winchester at your fingertips. And with that, you couldn’t think of a more perfect autumn evening.

Thanks for reading!

Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lyarr24

#flufftober2023 #flufftober #03 #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural ff #spn fanfic #spn ff #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic

[smellingofpoetry]

High Expectations

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jody Mills

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Their meeting was just a lucky coincidence. Everything that happened after that was just their doing.

Warnings: fluff, insecurities, lies

Word count: 1252

A/N: Hello! How are you doing? I hope you had a lovely Christmas day. As promised, I'm here with a new fic. Some of you voted to read this one, so here's your chance. This story happened out of nowhere and it wasn't supposed to go this way, but I had fun while writing it and I'm so happy with what I came up with. I hope you'll like it as much. Enjoy! ❤ All errors are mine.

It started unconventionally.

It was during one of Jody’s dinners. Y/N was new in town so, of course, Jody had invited her in. The boys were just passing through after one of their hunts.

It was just a coincidence.

Y/N didn’t know anything about the supernatural, and Dean was covered in cuts and bruises.

She was beautiful; he noticed it the moment he saw her, feeling self-conscious for once because his face, well, it looked like a battled filed. That feeling went away pretty quickly the moment Y/N and Sam discovered to be two nerds. Dean definitely couldn’t compete with that, bloody face or not.

They had a lovely dinner, though. A normal one, that was for sure and Dean didn’t mind that one bit, even if that meant watching his little brother flirt with her.

Y/N was glad she had accepted Jody’s invitation. All the worries of being alone in a new town were forgotten for a moment. It was a nice evening, even though she had to do her best to not glance at Sam’s brother.

What was his name? Oh, right – Dean.

He was beautiful; she noticed it the moment she saw him, bloody face and all. Y/N had felt self-conscious when his eyes had landed on her because she was wearing that damn old shirt her mom had told her to toss away ages ago and, on top of that, she was wearing zero to nothing makeup. She couldn’t look that good that way.

She didn’t let it sting too much when he hadn’t paid too much attention to her through dinner, she was used to it anyway.

So, Y/N ended up talking to Sam, mostly about their shared passion for books. Until it was time for dessert, and Jody went to retrieve coffee and pie. Of course, Y/N went after her, trying to be useful.

“Can I help you with something?” She asked with a smile, with Sam right behind her taking the mugs from Jody.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. You can go call Dean, though. He’s outside on the back porch. He’ll kill us if we start the pie without him.” Jody smiled at her, grabbing the plates and disappearing into the next room.

Y/N glanced at the door that led to the porch, unsure. Taking care of the coffee would have been easier, she thought while walking towards the door. She opened it slowly, sliding through it. Dean was leaning against the railing, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as soon as he heard her footsteps, surprised to see her there. Y/N smiled, waving his hand mid-air, suddenly not sure how to act around him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Dean put away his phone, watching her fidgeting with her hands.

“Uh – Jody asked me to tell you there’s pie inside. She made it sound like something really important, so – ” she trailed off, feeling awkward but hoping that he wouldn’t catch on that. Dean smiled, nodding his head.

“Yeah – uh – I’m kinda a pie guy.” He said without even thinking. Y/N smiled at that and Dean could feel his ears getting warmer. Why in heart had he said that? A pie guy – what an idiot, he thought.

“Can’t blame you. It smelt good in there.” She pointed at the kitchen with her head.

“Oh, yeah?” He asked, putting his hands in his pockets, feeling more at ease.

“Yeah. I might have peeked at the filling if you’re interested.” She said, getting a bit closer while her lips curved upwards in a half smile. Dean grinned, making more room for her. They got closer, their bodies leaning toward each other.

“I think I might.”

Y/N pretended to ponder for a bit, before lowering her voice. “Jody wouldn't mind, right?”

“I won't tell if you don’t.” He whispered in a conspirator tone.

“Yeah, alright.” She was easy to convince. So, she got closer then, whispering in his ear their little secret. Dean hummed, her breath making his skin tingle.

“My favorite.” He answered, glancing at her and catching her already looking at him with a smile. They stared at each other for a few minutes, until Dean cleared his throat, forcing himself to look elsewhere. Y/N did the same, feeling her cheeks getting warmer.

“So, what happened to…?” She asked, pointing to his cuts on his face.

Right – Dean thought. He had forgotten about that for a minute, and the reality crushed back on him.

“Bad call on work,” which wasn’t a lie.

“Are you a police offer, too?”

“Firefighter.” It came out of his mouth faster than he could imagine and, yeah, not an entire lie. He wouldn’t have minded it to be a firefighter.

“Really?”

“You sound surprised.”

“No, it’s just –”

“What?” He asked arm crossed at his chest and eyes trailing down to the tips of his shoes, trying not to show her the hurt in his voice.

“My dad was a firefighter too.” She whispered, a sad smile on her face.

“Oh –” Dean looked up at her then, feeling guilty for lying to her but he couldn’t tell her the truth, though.

“You kinda remember me him.” She smiled, before walking towards the door. She was almost inside when she turned around towards him. “Be safe out there, Dean.”

He watched her turn around again, while his mind was still stuck on her words. Dean didn’t know how to answer that, but he knew that, for some reason, he wanted to keep talking with her. So, he tried hard to come up with something smart to say but, of course, he wasn’t Sam.

“I lied.” He said without really thinking. Dean closed his eyes, giving himself an idiot. Y/N stopped in her tracks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion while turning around for the second time. She looked at him with curiosity. She leaned against the door frame with her hands joined together in front of her, studying him and trying to decide what to do next.

“About what?” She asked cautiously.

“About the bruises and the job,” Dean admitted, hoping someone would come to look for them and save him from his misery.

“Did you have a good reason to lie?”

Dean was taken aback by her question but nodded at the same time. “Yeah.”

“Would you lie again if I asked you the same question?”

“Probably.”

“You could have gotten away with it, you know that right?” She asked, amused.

“Yeah, I’m painfully aware.”

“Then why did you confess?”

“I have no fucking idea, usually I’m better than this.”

“I wouldn’t have said.” She joked, earning an annoyed look from Dean. They studied each other for a few seconds until he broke the silence they had fallen into.

“Are you gonna ask again?” He said, wondering why he was torturing himself like that.

“Oh, I will at our next dinner.”

“Our next dinner?” He echoed her with a smirk on his lips.

“Yeah, you didn’t think you were out of the hook for lying to me just because you’re cute, right?”

“Cute, uh?” Dean smirked, taking a few steps towards her while making her roll her eyes. He raised his hand in surrender. “Alright, dinner seems fair.” He agreed, hoping he wouldn’t have to regret it.

“Good, ‘cause I have high expectations for you next lie." She winked at him, before going inside. Dean stayed stuck on the floor, blinking a few times at the closed door before starting to laugh.

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fan fic #spn #spn fic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #high expectations #sam winchester #jody mills

[jrdnmichelle]

i did this supernatural display as a commission! i thought you guys might like it even though it's not my usual type of display.

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn fanart #spn #sam winchester #spn fandom #spn fanfic #spn fanworks #spnfandom #spn dean #spn sam winchester #spn dean winchester #assemblage #assemblage art #assemblage artist #art display #crystal art #diorama #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanart #spn crack #supernatural family #spn fan #spn rp #supernatural fan art #supernatural fan fic #the winchester brothers #dean #sam and dean

[jessybarnes]

I'll Show You

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Rating: 18+ ONLY! Minors GO AWAY

Tags: NSFW Title Card, Angst, Arguments, Bondage, BDSM, Praise Kink, Fingering (female receiving), Oral (male receiving), Throat-fucking, Unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP KIDS!), Begging (obviously), Fluffy ending, Language, and I think that’s it. HEED THE WARNINGS PLEASE!

Betas: @winecatsandpizza

Word Count: 3.6k

Fic Aesthetic: Yours Truly

Dedicated to: @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men

A/N: This is a repost from my old Tumblr blog. I am in the process of moving all of my fics over to this blog. I hope you all enjoy!

From the moment you met Sam and Dean Winchester, you’d known your life was about to change. Be it bad or good was hard to determine, mainly because of what they did for a living, but a little part of it had to do with the fact that the elder of the two brothers didn’t seem to like you.

You couldn’t put your finger on it. Anytime he exchanged words with you, it was always cold and dismissive. Sam assured you that his brother would come around, but you weren’t born yesterday. Dean had something against you, and you, being the stubborn woman you were, aimed to figure it out. 

The three of you were sitting in the library sifting through lore for a case. There had apparently been reports of a Djinn hybrid in the Midwest, and you knew it had to be the work of Michael. Dean had his feet propped up on the table, a rather large dusty book in his hands. Sam was typing away on his laptop, the clicking of the keys being the only audible sound other than the occasional page turn.

You knew that finding a way to kill the latest and greatest monster of the week was what you should be doing, but you couldn’t focus. Not when this whole thing with Dean was eating at you. 

“I can’t do this anymore!”

The book you’d been holding was thrown carelessly onto the table, the sound reverberating off the walls making both brothers jump. 

Dean removed his boot-covered feet off the tabletop and planted them on the floor. You didn’t miss how his eyebrows knitted into a scowl or his signature eye roll.

“Giving up already, Y/N? You know, if the huntin’ life isn’t cut out for you, then you can see yourself out anytime.” 

Sam sighed and gave Dean his best bitch face.

“Dean! Whatever is going on with Y/N, I can assure you that you’re not helping!”

He turned his gaze to you, his hazel eyes looking at you sympathetically. You’d normally just keep your anger bottled up inside, but something inside you snapped. Being a hunter meant everything to you after a demon killed your kid sister, and for Dean to question your loyalty like that had crossed a line. Your anger started to rise within you, like a sea of molten lava until you were no longer in control of your emotions. 

Instead of storming off to your room and slamming the door for good measure like you normally would do, you stood and yanked the book Dean was reading out of his hand. You were gnashing your teeth together in such a snarl that it was a miracle they didn’t break.

“You think you’re so fucking smug, don’t you Winchester? You think you’re this big badass and that nothing can touch you. Well, let me tell you something.”

Your small hand grabbed onto the front of his shirt, bunching it up between your fingers as you got dangerously close to his face.

“You don’t fucking scare me in the least bit!”

The venom in your tone was palpable and with a hard push of your free hand, he and the chair went crashing to the floor. 

Without giving him a chance to fire an insult back, you headed into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. You could hear Dean’s muffled voice as he spat angrily in response to his brother’s laughs. It only made the smirk on your face wider. Maybe now Dean will show you some respect. 

The rest of the night was pretty quiet. You stayed in your room, scouring the internet for a way to kill the monster in question, and munched on some popcorn. The research came easily to you, your eyes scanning effortlessly through article after article. Even though you still hadn’t found a weapon to kill this Djinn on steroids, you knew your efforts would make Sam proud. 

You felt his presence before he knew you did. He loomed in the doorway, leaning against it like it was the only thing keeping him from falling.

“Can I help you, Dean?”

You didn’t even bother to stop reading the article you’d found. He was probably just here to start something with you, and you had neither the time nor the energy to fight. Instead of replying, he pushed off the doorframe and stalked towards you, his shadow spreading across you and your keyboard. 

You knew he was waiting for you to look at him, but you honestly didn’t feel like giving him the satisfaction. Why should you? He’d been nothing but an ass to you since you moved in. So instead of giving him what he wanted, you continued to read. 

Apparently, Dean got tired of not having your attention because the next thing you knew, he’d taken your laptop and tossed it on your pile of dirty laundry in the corner. He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw clenching as he looked down at you.

“What the hell do you want, Dean? I’m trying to find a way to kill that fucking Djinn. You’re not still pissed about me putting you on your ass, are you? I mean, you kind o-HEY! LET ME GO!” 

In one swift motion, he’d pulled you to your feet and shoved you against the wall. Dean’s chest heaved and his nostrils flared as he towered over you with his full height.

“You don’t fucking get it, do you Y/N?”

His forearm pressed into your chest, not hard enough to hurt you, but firmly enough to hold you in place. 

Even at your disadvantage you still stood your ground. Your eyes narrowed perilously, certain that if looks could kill then Dean would have been done for.

“Oh, you think I don’t get it?! Trust me, Dean. I think I get exactly what you’re doing. Ever since I came here, you’ve been nothing but hostile to me! It’s because I’m a woman, isn’t it? You think just because I’m a woman that I can’t hold my own. Well, I’ve got news for you, Dean Winchester. I can do the job just as good as you any day of the fucking year!” 

You were so caught up in getting your point across that you hadn’t noticed the amused look on his face. His laugh filled the small room as he let go of you. Tears streamed down his face as he hunched over, and it pissed you off that he thought this was amusing. 

Finally, he swiped his sleeve over his eyes and took a few deep breaths to regain his composure.

“Is that what you think? You really think I’m a dick to you because you’re a woman? Oh my God… I thought you of all people would at least get it.”

He sighed and ran a hand across his face.

“Look, Y/N, It’s not because you’re a woman. Hell, some of the greatest hunters I know are women. I’m trying to protect you! I don’t want you to go through what Sammy and I have gone through. You’ve already lost one family member, and I’ll be damned if you lose your life, too. Just… Let Sammy and I handle the hunts okay? You can hold down the fort here in the Bunker and be our research guru. That I know you can handle.” 

It was your turn to laugh.

“What do you know about handling anything? You could barely handle that case with the nest of nearly invincible vampires. What makes you think you can just walk in here and tell me what I can and can’t deal with? I mean, as long as we are on the topic, Let’s just be honest with ourselves, shall we?"

"You couldn’t handle me if I came with a user manual!”

The look on Dean’s face darkened. It sent heat straight to your core, something that you could almost always control when it came to the elder brother. Normally, his asshole demeanor outweighed him being the sexiest man you’d ever laid eyes on. You swallowed thickly as he invaded your space again. His once sparkling green eyes were now clouded with something new, something you’d only seen him offer to the occasional stripper or hooker that he brought back to the hotel.

“Are you challenging me, Y/N?” 

You tried to hide the fact that he was having an effect on you, but your flushed skin and rapid heartbeat betrayed you. Your answer came easily, and the submissive part of you that lay dormant for so long surfaced like a rekindled flame.

“Yes.” 

Dean brought one of his hands up to your face and cradled your cheek in it, the touch alone sent sparks through your veins. His freckles were so easy to see this close. Constellations mapped the entirety of his cheeks, and you briefly wondered if he had them elsewhere. Your eyes flicked from his intense gaze down to his lips, silently willing him to close the small gap between you and devour your mouth.

“Now now, Y/N, is that any way to talk to me? I think you know better. Yes what, sweetheart?” 

You looked down at your bare feet, Y/E/C eyes focusing on the remnants of the chipped polish on some of your toenails. Your mind contemplated what was about to happen. You could still back out of this, push him out of the way, and run. That wouldn’t solve anything though. Running from your deepest desires, from Dean, was what you’d essentially been doing for months. It was now or never and quite frankly you wanted to give in. You wanted him to have full control over you, and you’d dreamed about it more than you’d like to admit.

“Y-Yes, Sir.” 

Two of his fingers rested underneath your chin, raising it so you were looking up at him.

“Good girl.”

His praise was the first nice thing he’d ever said to you, and you’d be lying if it didn’t make your heart sing. His lips closed the distance and pressed against your own hungrily. His tongue slid into your awaiting mouth and you moaned sinfully. He tasted of cinnamon and whiskey, just like you’d always imagined.

Dean broke the kiss and touched his forehead against yours, his hands coming to rest on the curvature of your waist.

“Go to my room, Y/N. I want you to be stripped and kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed before I get back. Do you understand?”

Your response was immediate. Almost like a reflex, as it left your lips in a whisper.

“Yes, Sir.”

He watched you leave the confines of your room before heading the opposite way. Your feet padded down the hallway and came to a stop outside the closed door of Dean’s room. It had been years since you’d had a dom, and even then they hadn’t exuded as much dominance as Dean had just moments ago. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you entered his room and closed the door behind you. The smell of his cologne wrapped itself around you like a hug. The familiar scent calmed your nerves instantly and soon you found yourself naked and kneeling at the foot of the bed just as you had been told to do. 

Dean came in a few minutes later and set what sounded like something heavy on top of his dresser. You didn’t dare look up though. He hadn’t given you permission, and you wanted to show him that you could be good and obey him.

“Look at you, doing what you’re told like a good, little girl. See? I knew you could do this. I bet you’re soaking wet already, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” 

Once again his fingers came to rest under your chin, tilting your head so you were looking up at him through your lashes.

“Get on the bed.”

He wasn’t mean about it, but his tone was firm and laced with an underlying warning of consequence if you disobeyed. Swifty and quietly you climbed onto the comforter and resumed your kneeling position. Dean walked around to the other side of you and sat down. He was still fully clothed, but you could clearly see his erection tenting his jeans.

“Alright, sweetheart, let’s talk about the rules. You are to address me as sir, and only sir. Don’t cum until I tell you to, and if you ever feel uncomfortable with something that I am doing, then please use the safeword ‘cake’. Do you understand? 

Hearing that your safeword was cake confused you at first, but when you thought about it for a moment it made sense. Dean was a pie fanatic. Especially if it was pecan pie, but you’d never seen him eat cake. Let alone mention it. So you could see how he’d come up with it in the end.

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”

Dean seemed convinced by your response so you stayed still and waited for his next command. You could hear him pick whatever he had brought with him off the dresser, and your pulse quickened at the thought of what he was about to do to you. 

The bed dipped behind you, and his hot breath fanned across the back of your neck making you shiver.

“Clasp your hands behind your back for me, baby. I’m going to restrain you now so you stay still for me.”

You brought your hands behind your back, interlacing your fingers together so your wrists rested against your tailbone. The feeling of the nylon rope being looped around your wrists made you impossibly wetter. The thought of being restrained and letting none other than Dean Winchester worship your body was enough to make you cum, but you couldn’t do that. Not when he’d specifically told you not to. 

Dean made quick work of the black rope. He maneuvered around your torso, wrapping it around each elbow and tying a knot in the middle to lock your arms in place. The rest of it was placed expertly around your chest and tied off, the final knot resting along your shoulder blades. He let you fall head first into the mattress, your head turning to the side so you could breathe. He stepped back to admire his work.

“A damn good job if I do say so myself. It’s not too tight, is it, darlin’? 

You took a moment to tug at your binds and unclasp and reclasp your fingers. Everything still had circulation, but you still couldn’t break free if you tried.

“No, everything feels fine, sir.”

You heard him walk behind you, no doubt enjoying the view of you on display to him.

“God, you look so fucking beautiful like this. Look at you… showing me that perfect, round ass and that tight, little pussy of yours.”

He ran one of his fingers through your folds, and it took everything in you not to moan. Your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from making any noise.

“Mmmm just as I thought, soaking wet just for me.”

The thick digit left you and you looked into his lust-blown eyes as his lips closed around it.

“So good, Y/N. Now, are you ready for me to test you? Gonna show me what a good girl you are?”

You shook your ass at him for good measure and replied without hesitation. “I’m ready, sir.” 

Dean grabbed onto your hips and pulled you to the edge of the bed, his clothed erection applying slight friction to your needy cunt. He ran his middle and index fingers through your juices a few times before sliding them into you.

“Be as loud as you want, princess. Sam isn’t here to hear you. It’s just you and me.”

Ever so slowly, he moved his fingers in and out of you, making you moan loudly.

“F-Fuck!” 

His pace increased, and you felt the coil of heat tighten. You were so close already and he’d barely gotten started. You felt your walls tighten slightly and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to maintain control. Dean knew how hard you were trying and you also knew he was competing with you. Using his skills to his advantage to see how much you could take.

“Oh shit… shit shit shit… I don’t know if I can…. FUCK!”

Dean curled his fingers so they hit that spot inside you with each thrust. Soon you couldn’t hold back any longer. With a cry of his name, you came hard, squirting all over his hand and the bed. 

The white-hot orgasm nearly made you pass out, and by the time your climax was over you knew you were in trouble. You couldn't see his face, but you were sure Dean wasn’t happy.

“Tsk tsk tsk … Y/N, you knew the rules. I seem to remember you agreeing to them and look at what you’ve done. You’ve made a mess, sweetheart.”

Just as you were about to apologize, he picked you up and set you gracefully on your knees.

“Are you ready to show me how sorry you are?” 

Balancing on your knees while you were tied up like this was difficult, but being this close to Dean’s cock made your mouth water.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry for disobeying you, sir. May I make it up to you by having you fuck my throat?”

The groan that left his lips was downright the most sinful thing you’d ever heard, and you definitely wanted to hear him make that noise again.

“Fuck… you read my mind, sweetheart.”

Dean began to circle you, watching you like a hawk would its prey. His tie was the first thing to go. Seeing him reach his right hand up and rip it off shouldn’t be as sexy as it was, but at this moment anything Dean did was sexy. He stopped in front of you and undid his belt and the top button on his pants, letting them pool carelessly at his ankles.

Finally, he freed his cock and you watched as he pumped it a few times. A bead of precum wept from the tip, and you leaned forward to catch it on your tongue. Your mouth closed around the head and Dean let you set the pace at first, more praises flying from his mouth as you took him in as deep as you could. 

“That’s it, princess… suck my cock. Mmmmm, you’re so fucking good at that. Taking it so well.” 

His hand fisted in your hair and you let him take over. You relaxed your throat as he took what he wanted from you, your eyes watering more and more every time he hit the back of your throat.

“Jesus… you have one helluva mouth, Y/N.”

He began to pant and his thrusts began to falter. His grip loosened on your hair and you whined as he pulled himself from your mouth.

“Now, baby, don’t you want me to cum in that pretty pussy of yours?”

As much as you wanted to make him come apart with your mouth, having him buried inside you was more appealing at the moment.

“Please, sir. Please fuck me.” 

Once again he picked you up, moving you back onto the bed with ease. Dean crawled behind you again, placing a hand on each of your hips. Without warning, he sheathed himself all the way to hilt, both of you crying out in pleasure. Dean set a harsh pace, his fingertips surely leaving bruises on your skin. You knew you would be sore. He was not, by any means, lacking in size. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t allow you to adjust to him. 

His thrusts began to falter again, and you felt that familiar feeling come back. You tightened yourself around him, and he growled, fucking you harder into the bed.

“S-Sir!... please, sir! Please, may I cum? … F-Fuck!”

You were so close to the peak of pure bliss that you could almost taste it. You just needed a little more. Dean grabbed onto the knotted rope in the middle of your back and pulled you so your back was to his chest. His other hand snaked around your body and circled your clit vigorously.

“Fuck, Y/N… C’mon, princess… Cum all over my cock. Let go, baby.” 

A few more seconds of him fucking up into you and you fell over the edge taking him with you. Your walls milking Dean for all he was worth. He held you there for a few minutes, your heavy breathing in sync as you both came down from your high.

Dean placed a chaste kiss on your back and pulled out of you. He took his time untying you, being careful not to irritate your skin further. Once you were free you stretched your arms and popped your knuckles. 

Dean sat with his back to the headboard and pulled you into his lap, his hands rubbing your back gingerly.

“You did so well, Y/N. I’m so proud of you. You’re amazing.”

He kissed you sweetly and you melted against his chest, your eyes fluttering shut from exhaustion. 

You listened to the steady beat of his heart and somehow made your brain form a coherent thought.

“I’m glad we were able to settle things, Dean. I was beginning to think you really did hate me. I understand everything now.”

He kissed the top of your head and held you protectively. “I could never hate you, Y/N. Not when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you, princess.”

His words shocked you, but you were too tired to respond. Sleep came easy for you in Dean’s arms, and you couldn’t wait to wake up tomorrow to see what this new life with Dean would bring you.

#j snow writes #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester smut #dean smut #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #spn fan fic #spn fanfic #spn fic #supernatural smut #spn smut

[scribeofwinchesters]

Secrets and Lies: Chapter 12 - Absolution

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 5,280

Summary: “I can’t change what I did and truly all I want is your forgiveness. Not absolution–or–or salvation… Just… forgiveness.”

Series Rating: Explicit/18+ TW: Rape/Non-con

Previous chapters:  One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Sevenandahalf Eight Nine Ten Eleven

A/N: I hope you all like this chapter and if my story makes you feel something, reblogs, comments, asks, etc are always welcome <3 Alsooo don't worry. This is not the end. I felt like this seemed like an ending so I wanted to be clear. I feel like I've been giving y'all blue balls so don't worry, we're gonna get our smut on real soon, folks! ;) Most likely the next part will also wrap everything up and will be the last part but I'm already working on a new sam x reader fic that takes place at the beginning of s.10 but is a continuation of the same relationship that is present in all my fics.

Tag list: @lauraashley93 @stoneyggirl2 @tiggytaylor @park-simphwa @dottirose

When you first woke sometime later, you continued to drift in and out of consciousness for what seemed like hours. You were faintly aware of Sam’s presence on the other side of you–your feet tangled with his legs as he curved around you. But the meds Dean gave you were strong and continued to pull you back down into unconsciousness. 

In the hazy moments of awareness, you could hear Sam and Dean talking quietly to each other. Their voices lulled you back into a comforted sleep. Another moment, despite your back to him, you could feel Sam sitting back against the headboard, reading. Each rustle of the pages turning was a quiet thrill that made you smile unconsciously in your sleep, even more so when he began using his free hand to casually caress figure eights onto your back.

Sometime after that, you found Sam alongside you, over the blankets but still snuggled against you, his flanneled arm draped over you. He’d laced fingers with yours and held your hand over your heart. You felt him nuzzle his nose into your hair and inhale deeply before gently pressing his lips to the crown of your head. This, combined with the sun shining in from the window by the door and your desperate thirst, was enough to finally push you fully into consciousness. 

The ice bag rested heavily on top of your cheek and was as cold as ever. Dean must have made a fresh one. 

You whined softly as you stretched your legs and let out a yawn. Instinctively, you moved your arms and Sam withdrew his, allowing you to stretch them out in front of you, noticing with each shift the aches in parts of you that you didn’t even know could ache. Your lungs felt bruised, somehow, from the strain the shifter had put on them in its attempt to suffocate you. The large bruises on the back of your arms, your waist, and your thighs where it had coiled itself tightly around you pulsed out painful reminders.

You turned over, taking the ice bag with you, and nestled it between your cheek and the pillow. Each movement brought on more frustration, stirring you further from your sleep as you wrestled with your appendages in a vain attempt to settle into a position that didn’t hurt.. Grasping the top sheet in your fingers, you pulled your hands together and rested them beneath your chin.

You blinked slowly as your eyes adjusted to the light.

Sam was right there, watching you. His face lit up as your eyes settled on his. His shaggy, brown hair was tucked behind his ears and he was dressed in jeans and an old grey and blue flannel. You took stock of the bandages on his neck and cheek and chin and wondered how many more there were that you couldn’t see.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” you croaked. A beat passed before you painfully cleared your throat and asked, “When was the last time you laid in bed this late?” 

Sam smirked as he thought about it for a moment. “Laid in bed with you, like this? At three in the afternoon? Hmm…,” his eyes narrowed on you as he thought. “Probably a few months… Was it New Year's Day? … Certainly not often enough.”

Your heart raced and you took as deep a breath as you could manage. Sam wouldn’t be talking to you like this if he hadn’t decided to stay, right?

“New resolution: stay in bed more,” you rasped with a careful smile before a tiny cough caught in your throat and you pulled the sheet over your mouth as you let it out.

“I can get on board with that,” Sam said grinning broadly as he climbed off the bed and made his way around. He grabbed the full cup from the nightstand as you carefully pulled yourself back to rest against the headboard. A groan or a hiss escaped your lips with each painful movement. Sam leaned over you, careful not to spill the water, and adjusted the pillow behind your back before moving the ice bag to the nightstand. He crouched down and handed you the cup which you drank down in seconds, stopping once to cover a painful cough. 

Sam’s brow furrowed as he tried to force his concerned frown into a smile. He grabbed Dean’s steel water container and refilled your cup as you held it out for him. Once he was sure you weren’t going to chug the second cup as well, he joined you back on the bed. This time he sat with his legs crossed under him and faced you. 

You glanced around the room. “Dean?”

“Supply run,” Sam said. You nodded before taking a sip of water. He watched you for several long moments before looking away, as if steeling his nerves. He took a deep breath and when he turned back you saw that his eyes were glistening again, like last night, and you were back in that old place, the place where your heart ached and begged to stop all of his pain and guilt and regret and longed to remind him how worthy and caring and honorable he was and how all the bullshit he’d endured wasn’t on him...

You took another sip and closed that door in your mind. You weren’t sure Sam still wanted you to take care of him in that way and until you were, that wasn’t a weight you could take on… not right now.

“Y/n… I’m so-” 

“I’m okay, Sam,” you said, cutting him off. The corners of your lips twitched up into your best attempt at a reassuring smile. “Dean stopped it. I’m still here. You’re still here. Everything’s okay.” 

Okay, so maybe that door didn’t close so easily…

“Please, y/n, just let me say this,” he said before inhaling sharply. “I— I never should have left.” 

You shook your head at him. “Please don’t do that.”

“What?”

“We both know by now that shit just happens and all any of us can do is be there to help pick up the pieces, maybe stop it if we’re lucky. We’re not always going to be lucky,” you shrugged. “So don’t act like you should have done something–like you could have done something… because clearly, life doesn’t work that way.” 

Sam swallowed hard and looked away from you. “I never should have taken that damn case. I should have given it to Dean. I should have come straight home,” he muttered. 

“Sam,” you said before biting anxiously at your bottom lip. The thing that had been gnawing at the edge of your thoughts was finally ready to bubble out. “Look, I know this has thrown a wrench in your, uh, plans. I still mean what I said the other night–if you’re not ready to come back, don’t do it just because of–because of all this. I’ll be okay for a bit. Awhile even. If you have any doubts… about–about us–I need you to deal with them before you–if you decide to…” You stumbled over your words and took a sharp breath, ready to push past the one word you couldn’t get your mouth to utter. “if you can– if you can forgive me.” 

Sam dragged his hand down his face as the tears started to slip down his cheeks. He pinched his bottom lip anxiously like he did when research was beginning to fail him. Normally, when you caught him doing that, you’d walk up behind him and pull his hands into yours as you leaned over and pecked little kisses down the side of his face until you found his lips, and–still grasping his hand in yours–tilted his face up and pressed your lips to his, taking a long, silent moment before opening your mouth to him and slipping your tongue gently and momentarily between his lips. Your breath turned shallow from the memories and you quickly wiped away a tear as you wondered how you’d ever be able to keep yourself from him. 

Sam stared up at the ceiling a moment before looking back and studying you for a long moment. His brows knit together and suddenly he leaned toward you and pulled you into his arms as he lifted you with an almost disconcerting ease. You fought through the ache in your muscles as you shifted your legs and nestled yourself around his hips before resting your chin on his shoulder and encircling him in your arms. He slowly caressed his fingers up and down your back.

“Sam…,” you said softly against his ear, your chin pushing into his shoulder as you spoke. 

“You know… when I was out in the woods, setting up my tent, hiking the trails, just trying to clear my mind–that plan completely backfired. All I could think about was you. I watched the creeks flowing, saw little pools of minnows and frogs and swimming ducks and I thought of you and how much you’d love it. I saw an owl up high in a tree and I wished I could show you. I watched the sunset and I wished you were there holding my hand, telling me what the colors reminded you of. I stared up at the stars and I swear I saw your face. The moon was a beautiful, clear, perfect crescent–just like you always love to point out to me when you see it. You were everywhere. It was so much that I almost prayed to Cass, sure that he was doing this to me on purpose. But I knew better. It wasn’t Cass or any other magic. It was just… you. My love for you.” 

Your heart caught in your throat and tears streamed down your cheeks as he spoke. You pulled your chin down to the fabric above his clavicle and pressed a kiss into him as you shifted your grip on your forearm, squeezing him tighter as your tears dripped onto Sam’s back. 

“I couldn’t sleep. I debated calling you–debated if I should just pack up and drive back home to you. Then I got news from a hunter about a case close to home and decided I could wrap it up quick and be home in a couple of days and that way you’d still get your space–in case you needed it now–after–after the way I’d treated you that night.” 

“Sam,” you said, whispering his name again. That wasn’t your favorite memory but you didn’t want it to be something he berated himself for forever.

“I know, just let me finish. I need to say this.” 

You loosened your embrace on him and trailed your fingers up his neck, unintentionally eliciting a soft gasp from him at your touch. Your fingers found your target as you brushed them–opened and closed–around his crown, gliding slowly through his hair. His chest, pressed to you, fell and rose shallower now. 

“Oh my god… you're making this… more difficult than I imagined,” he said, his voice strained.  

“Sorry,” you said, the small smile evident in your tone. “It’s just… this last week has been incredibly–excessively–unbearably shitty and I needed you so bad–not needed you, needed you–just–you know–needed you. Dean did his best–the best friend I could ever ask for–but when you hold me–I feel… healed… salvageable… I’m not-”

“Shh…,” Sam soothed you as he gripped your shoulders and pulled you away from him so that he could look into your eyes. “I’m here and I got you and I’m not going anywhere. Now, listen to me. Of course I forgive you, okay? I forgive you a million times over. Tell me you’d make the same choice again and again and I’ll say, ‘Yes, do it’. Tell me you need to wipe my mind again right now and I’ll say, ‘Please’ without giving it another thought. If you made a call then it was the right one. Full stop. I know you, and you know me,” he said, squeezing your shoulders before letting go and cupping either side of your face in his wide palms, ensuring you couldn’t look away from him as he spoke but careful to avoid the laceration on your cheek.

“It took me a little bit to sort through the memories of that night after Cass gave them back to me. At first all I could see was you–bloody, screaming in agony as I lifted you–I woke up hearing that scream in my nightmares, y/n… but then, there it was, a thought that prickled at the back of my mind as I held you so still that my arms were cramping–you didn’t deserve this life and Dean and I were monsters for pulling you into it–for keeping you in it. This is why we don’t do attachments in this life. It’s not safe. And loving me was going to be the death of you.” 

You shook your head and he let go of you, dropping his hands to find yours, weaving each finger with his.

“You were right, y/n,” he said. “Don’t you see? You were right.” 

“No, Sam,” you said, still shaking your head. “Don’t do that. I was wrong, okay? My choices were wrong. I can’t change what I did and truly all I want is your forgiveness. Not absolution–or–or salvation… Just… forgiveness.

Sam closed his eyes and was silent for several long seconds as your words washed over him. Finally, he whispered, “I love you,” and leaned forward to press his lips chastely against yours before he pulled back just enough for his heavy breath to warm your skin. “Is this okay?” he asked. 

You paused, surprised at yourself for not immediately responding, ‘yes’. And realized you were not sure what to make of it, of him. And his beautiful words were too much. It was all overwhelming.

“Y/n?”

“I’m so sorry,” you said as you dropped your head into your hands and squeezed your eyes shut. Fresh tears dripped into your palms as you quietly sobbed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me–I know you’re Sam. You are Sam. You are my Sam. And I adore you, too. You know that, right?” you asked. “I can’t find all the words right now to convey it the way you did. I’m so–it’s just been a–a shitty fucking week,” you said as you lifted your red, blotchy face up to look at him and took in several slow, deep breaths. 

Sam’s eyes widened with concern and you saw his chest rise and fall rapidly with panicked breaths. “I do–I do know that,” he said as fresh tears misted his eyes. You could see he wanted to comfort you, to hold you, but he wasn’t sure anymore if that was right, so he pulled himself away. 

Your tears came harder then and you gripped the comforter into a ball. You were furious, you wanted to scream out in anguish. You wanted to stop. fucking. crying. But you couldn’t. It all just spilled out and all you wanted was for Sam to wrap you in a hug and hold you and kiss your forehead and stroke your back, but there was another part of you that wanted him to stay away from you–to leave you the fuck alone. 

You felt like you were being torn in two and it was an emotional agony that paled in comparison to what you felt the night you and Sam fought or even the misery of the days after. You stood and fumbled around your boots and clothing, looking for your phone. Sam’s voice sounded like it was being carried over a pool of water that sat above you as he called your name. You ignored him. You found your phone on the nightstand, no doubt plugged in and charged thanks to the ever thoughtful Sam, and made your way to the bathroom where you shut the door behind you, too scared to look back at him. It broke your heart to imagine his expression upon hearing the soft click of the lock but you did it all the same.

You turned the cold knob on the sink and tried to focus on the sound of the rushing water as you cupped your hands under the stream and watched the water rush across your skin in airy streams. It was cool and calming and you splashed several handfuls over your face before patting it dry with the hand towel, careful of your cut. 

You unlocked your phone and called Dean. 

“Y/n?” Dean asked as he answered the phone before the first ring had even finished.

“Dean?” 

“You good?”

“I, uh–yeah, I’m good,” you lied. 

Dean could hear the congestion in your voice and knew you’d been crying. 

In an instant his tone turned gravelly and flat. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just, um, I know it’s Sam but–I don’t know why but I suddenly wasn’t so sure–but that doesn’t make sense because I do know–I do know that’s Sam,” you choked back your tears and swallowed hard. “He–I just…,” you trailed off. There was a silence between you for a moment.

“Y/n, the shifter’s dead, okay? I killed it. And I just got the other one into the trunk so we can burn it, too. I’ll be there in ten but in the meantime, I’m sure Sam won’t mind if you have to test him again to be sure, okay, kiddo?” 

You nodded to yourself. “Okay,” you whispered before sniffing and wiping your nose with the back of your hand. 

“Deep breaths,” Dean reminded you. 

You took a deep breath and winced at the sharp pain in your lungs as you inhaled.

“Sorry,” you said as a guilty tear spilled down your cheek.

“Don’t be. I’ll stay on the phone with you ‘til I’m back,” he said.

You took another deep breath and counted to five before letting it out and counted to five again as you exhaled, ignoring the pain. 

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay, Dean,” you said as you hung up the phone before he could counter you.

You glanced in the mirror for the first time since you weren’t even sure when. Your hair was a crazy, tangled mess and your face was stamped with a bright splotch of red across your cheek, an almost perfect handprint. The two butterfly closures held the broken skin together. There was a big, dark bruise forming beneath your eye, above the cut. The shifter really had hit you as hard as it could, which was saying something for a monster. You quickly brushed through your hair with your fingers and pulled it into a manageable but loose bun. You turned to face the door and shut your eyes as you gently shook your whole self, before slowly opening the door. Sam sat at the edge of the bed, waiting quietly as he fidgeted with his fingers.

“You scared me,” he murmured as he looked up at you.

“Sorry,” you said as you hesitated in the doorway. “I know you’re not…,” you trailed off and took a slow step toward him.  “Your whole being–your whole presence is the opposite of it so I know you’re not–but for a second a part of me was there again and–well, without Dean here–I’m sorry. Not that you–” you said, fumbling over your words before Sam cut you off.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Sam said. “I know exactly what it’s like to have no idea what’s real and what’s in your head.”

Of course Sam would know; he’d told you vague stories of the torture he’d endured in the cage before you’d met him. The other pieces Dean filled in, about his visions of Lucifer taunting him, and the scar on his palm that reminded him he was safe. When Sam was having a really bad day you’d sometimes gently trace a finger across that scar to remind him of that fact. And on even worse days, when you had a moment alone, you’d peck small kisses to it.

He held his hand out and waited for you to take it as you approached him. When you did, he pulled you to him and wrapped his arms around your hips as he nestled his face into your waist. You twisted your fingers in his hair as he sighed a ragged breath into you. You stood there just like that, silent, as Sam breathed in and out, comforted by your fingers tracing up and down his scalp and twisting idly in his hair. 

“Will it help if you tell me about it?” he asked after a minute. 

You considered the idea. “Maybe–later though, or tomorrow–not yet–and besides, Dean’s gonna be back soon,” you said. He looked up at you. Those big, pitiful–beautiful eyes that you’d walk across shattered glass and hot coals to see just one more time. You didn’t need to cut his arm to know he wasn’t a shifter. This was all Sam. You disentangled a hand from his hair and lightly prodded at his left arm causing him to release you. You slid your fingers down the length of his arm as he bent it up to you. When you reached his wrist you gently grasped it in your palm and pulled it up to your lips so you could press a kiss to his scarred palm. 

“I love you,” you murmured as you released his wrist. He glided his palm across your jaw and cupped it as he rose to his feet. Your other arm slid down and you slipped it under the back of his shirt to hold him just above his hip, urging him to stay close.

“Love you,” he whispered back. He held fastly, now, to either side of your face as he ducked down and pressed his lips to yours. You released his hip and lifted your hands, resting them over his as he held you, ensuring he didn’t release you before you were ready. You opened your lips to him and he hesitated for the briefest second before deepening the kiss and slipped his tongue momentarily along yours. You could feel the electricity buzzing between you as he started to pull back. You leaned forward and captured his lips with yours. 

“More,” you murmured against his mouth. Obedient as always, Sam kissed you back, hungrily now, like he needed your lips on his to sustain himself. He angled your face up and deepened the kiss with his tongue. Gently, he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it and going back to your lips for more. You sighed into him as you released his hands. He let one trail over your neck as the other gripped your waist, pulling you closer and eliciting a low gasp from your lips. You cupped the side of his face with one hand as you let the other one return to his hair, just behind his ear where you drew light circles with your thumb. 

“I should shower,” you said, remembering Dean was on his way.

“I’m the one that needs the cold shower,” he whispered with a smirk as you rested your hands on his chest. 

“Oh please, it takes way more than that to get you going.” 

“Don’t be so sure,” he said as he gently grasped your hand and pulled it down so that you could feel his partially stiffened cock beneath his jeans. He smiled at the blush that flushed your cheeks as he shifted sideways, turning his back to the door and walked you backwards toward the bathroom. 

“I really missed you,” he said as he pressed his lips to the juncture of your neck and jaw. 

The roar of the Impala broke the trance and you broke apart. You listened as Dean pulled the car to the door and cut the engine off. Dean entered the room in a rush, not even bothering to shut the car door behind him. He looked to you and then to Sam and arched an eyebrow. You made your way to Dean as Sam sat uncomfortably down at the edge of the bed, tugging at his jeans as he crouched.

“You good, sweetheart?”

“Something like that,” you said as you hugged him. “Thanks for–” 

“ ‘Course,” he said as he continued to study you before glancing again to Sam. “Okay, well, you two ready to put this place in the rearview after we eat a quick bite? Because I sure as shit am,” he said as he clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together. He turned and made his way back out the motel door, leaving it hanging open as he rifled through the back seat before returning with a plastic bag and a paper tray with three sweating cups of ice cold soda in one hand and a brown paper bag that smelled greasy and warm and delicious in the other. The smell awakened your appetite and your stomach rumbled in response. 

“Holy shit, I’m fucking hungry,” you said, eliciting a small chuckle from Sam. 

“Good, cause I got your favorite cheeseburger: extra mustard, extra pepper, add jalapenos,” Dean said as he kicked the door shut behind him and set the drinks down on the table. 

Your mouth watered as you took the bag from Dean and set it on the table, hungrily pulling a fistful of fries from the bag, and stuffing them in your mouth as you took a seat. You didn’t have the heart to tell him your throat may be too sore to enjoy mustard and jalapenos and you were too hungry to really care.

“Hey, those better not be my fries!” Dean shouted. You stiffened and glanced hesitantly in his direction. Sam’s lips twitched up into a small smile at you before he saw that Dean was handing him the plastic bag. 

“Oh, thanks,” he said hesitantly as he squinted at the bag. 

“Only thing around here was a wally-world so those’ll have to do,” Dean said as he made his way back to the table and sat across from you. He pulled one of the cups from the tray and took a long pull. 

You were already three bites into your burger and had dumped the fries on to the paper wrapping when Dean fished his food out of the bag. You turned and watched as Sam pulled a large shoe box from the bag and lifted one of the boots out. They were steel-toe, dark brown work boots. “They’ll definitely do,” he said as he pulled them on and fussed with the laces. To you, they looked closer to something Dean would choose for himself than what Sam normally wore but the options were surely slim.

“You gonna eat, Sammy?” Dean asked a moment later. You looked back to see Sam was still at the edge of the bed, watching you and Dean devour your meals. There was a hesitancy in his eyes that confused you and you furrowed your brows at him. He shook his head and smiled as he stood up.

“So, the bunkers good?” you asked Dean after handing Sam his burger. There were only two seats at the small dinette table so Sam sat at the foot of Dean’s bed and took a careful bite of his cheeseburger. 

“Good as it can be,” he said as he chewed a large bite. “Cass said everything was fine. Had to have been some kind of spell–a cloaking spell or an entry spell–that either the shifter already knew or got from, you know, Sam’s beautiful mind,” he said before taking another pull from his soda.

You grimaced at the thought. Sam let out a guilty huff before leaning his long body off the bed and over to the table and to take one of your fries as he kissed your cheek. 

“S’okay,” you said as he sat back down. You lifted your leg and rubbed your pointed toe along the side of his calf. A pained smile crossed his face as he looked to you.

You finished the last bite of your cheeseburger and took a giant gulp from the soda, tossed a few fries quickly in your mouth and stood up, wiping your hands off with a napkin. “Finish my fries for me, Sam,” you said. “Gonna shower real quick.” 

Sam’s palm rested on his knee and you made sure to pass him closely enough that you could graze two fingers over the back of his hand. His hand twitched reflexively from the sudden, unexpected touch. 

“Be careful of your cut,” he whispered. You smiled tenderly at him from the doorway before turning and shutting the door.

You showered–for the first time since–and it felt so good to finally, really wash the shifter off. You let the hot water relax the tension in your shoulders and neck and scrubbed gently at your scalp with the motel shampoo. You paid extra attention with the sudsy washcloth, trying to make sure you scrubbed every part of you that the shifter touched. It wasn’t enough, you could still feel it and as the memories started to enter your mind, you hurried through the rest of your shower, not comfortable to be alone with your own thoughts. 

When you were done, you put on fresh clothes you had tucked away in your go-bag. More plaid flannel, t-shirts and dark-washed jeans. The clothing was just practical for hunting, more than anything. Although, it was nice to look like you actually belonged with Sam and Dean when you went anywhere. Sometimes you would see other girls in their crop tops or chunky sweaters, baggy jeans and sneakers, floral dresses that cinched at the waist paired with platform boots–all things with even the vaguest whiff of a ‘fashion sense’ and you’d feel a pang of jealousy for yours long lost. 

You brushed gently through your wet hair and pulled it into a quick braid, easy and out of the way, the short pieces fell loose around your face. You peered out of the bathroom. Sam was packing his bag on top of his side of the bed.

He looked up when he heard the door open and turned back to smile at you. The front door hung open and you could hear Dean packing up the Impala.

“You’re so cute,” he said. You shrugged as you slung your duffel over your shoulder. 

You arched a brow at him. “I look like I went three rounds with a lawnmower,” you said with a huff of laughter as you sat at the edge of the bed to pull on your boots, dropping your bag back to the floor.

“I like when you braid your hair,” he said as he brushed one of the loose pieces back and tucked it behind your ear. 

“Cut to me–practicing a dutch braid–then–cue the montage–as I perfect the waterfall braid, the half-up half-down twist, the mermaid, the fishtail and the low plait as ‘Every Little Thing She Does is Magic’ by The Police plays,” you said with a grin as you laced your boots. 

Sam playfully rolled his eyes as he slung his bag over his shoulder before picking up yours and doing the same. 

“I can carry it,” you said, as you stood up and slipped your phone into your back pocket. 

“I know you can,” he said as he indicated for you to walk on in front of him. You shook your head before walking to the car and climbed in the backseat. Dean didn’t protest as Sam, too, climbed in back. You fell asleep, slumped against Sam’s shoulder, hands laced together over his knee as CCR crackled through the speakers.

#sam winchester x reader #supernatural fan fiction #reader insert #sam winchester #spn #sam winchester/reader #supernatural #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #sam/reader #sam x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester/you #scribeofwinchesters #sam winchester reader insert

[spnfanficpond]

February 2024 Angel Fish Awards

(Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words. (Click here to learn more about how to nominate a fic for an award!)

Nominated by @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

Pack by @spnexploration

I love this story. I love the pack dynamics and how they all are despite Dean being the Pack Alpha. I love that they even have an extended pack as well (Claire, for example). I love that the reader has to learn the world and shows a very real world freak out over the information as well as how the pack dynamic and tactics work with and without Dean and Sam. I love how gentle and human Dean and the Reader are together. It’s a very relatable story with new relationships. I related to the Reader’s self-view very, very much. I’m gonna start including pack dynamics in my own a/b/o fics. I love that idea, so so much. Evolution is slow to change, so even if a/b/o was an evolutionary change, it doesn’t mean that all aspects would change with modern day society. Please check the story out and the author. Thanks!

The Cala Lillies of Winchester by @littleangelcassie

This is such an amazing story! Castiel instantly connects with Dean who falls asleep on him while on the bus and Cas being Cas decides to take him home and keep him. Doesnt take long for Dean to agree. It’s an amazing, challenging love story from there that encompasses family, children, health and home, and the challenges of in-laws for their personal and religious views. It’s beautiful and terrifying, and worth the tears.

The Heartbreak Hotel by @naughtystiel

You have to read this is such a fluffy story. It’s like so heart warming, chest squeezing, heart racing and so angsty. I love it. It’s so fluffy that it’s schmoopy. That’s how affectionate and caring it is. Let the story take care of you. Trigger Warning: cheating, survivor’s guilt, bad parent Mary Winchester

~*~*~

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis

If you don't look good, we don't look good by @talltalesandbedtimestories

HOLY HELL!!! This is SO HOT! With feelings, and hair, and brotherly Sam, and HOLY HOTNESS DEAN. *wipes sweat from brow*

~*~*~

Nominated by @mariekoukie6661

Mutually Beneficial by @kittenofdoomage

It's cute, fresh, and I can't wait to see where it goes!!

~*~*~

Nominated by @spencereliotwinchester

Flash by Ellia (AO3)

It’s so simple, yet extremely deep. An amazing take on the masks we wear

~*~*~

Nominated by @thoughtslikeaminefield

(K)not For Sale by @sam-is-my-safe-word

I don’t even go to the school of ABO, but, Kasey, love, you killed me. It’s emotional and anxious and hot, and SB is the Omega. Yes. Good.

Spotless by @stusbunker

FAKE. DATING. I’m epically behind in college comments for this, but it’s so fun and sexy and Stuie!

~*~*~

Nominated by @glygriffe

Wait for the Ricochet by @bobwess

I nominate this fic - first, because it is by Bob Wess and I think everybody in the SPN fandom should read at least one Bob Wess story - second, because it’s a time travel WIP where Dean and Sam meet their younger selves. 16-year-old Dean getting all big brother-y with 36-year-old Sam is precious, and Castiel serving as a buffer between the two versions of Dean is quite an interesting read.

(Divider by @glygriffe)

THANK YOU ALL, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

- From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @spencereliotwinchester, and @heavenssexiestangel!

#angel fish awards #angel fish awards masterlist #spnfanficpond #fan fiction #fanfiction #fan fic #fanfic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #spn fan fic #spn fanfic #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #fic rec #spn fic rec #supernatural fic rec #the winchesters #spnwin #supernatural #pond events

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Welcome to my Master List. As of right now, I write fics for Dean Winchester (predominantly), Soldier Boy, Jensen Ackles, Sam Winchester, and Beau Arlen. Dig in and have a binge, if you’ve got the time. My requests are open. Just send me an ask or message me directly.

Not a Dean Girl? Let me convert you!! 😉

Dean Winchester Masterlist

The sexiest asshole ever. 🥵

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Indulge in some stories about the hottest man on the planet. The Multiverse, single version anyway. 😉

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

Come on in and enjoy some sweet and sexy times with a very sweet and sexy sheriff.

Beau Arlen Masterlist

My Sam Fics are few, but I hope you enjoy my attempt to capture Sam's kind heart and incredible hotness. 😉

Sam Winchester Masterlist

Come check out the Dean and SPN Edits I've made over on YouTube. Some songs are just made for this show.

Fan Edits Masterlist

Almost all of these fics can also be found in their respective ML above, but I wanted them all collected here too. (I still have a few left to do! 🫢🫢

30 Day Writing Challenge Masterlist

#dean-winchester-is-a-warrior Masterlist #dean winchester #soldier boy #beau arlen #jensen ackles #sam winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fan fic #spn fan fic #dean winchester fan fic #soldier boy fan fic #the boys fan fic #jensen ackles rpf #jensen ackles fan fic #beau arlen fan fic #big sky fan fic #sam winchester fan fic

[1000roughdrafts]

If You're Gonna Lie...

Summary: Y/N and Dean have been seeing each other for quite a while, but when Dean keeps disappearing on Y/N, it leaves her confused on where they stand. Dean, not wanting to give away his secret line of work, continues to lie to Y/N about why he keeps showing up late. When she confronts him, will he continue to lie or will he tell her the truth?

A/N: This is a fic inspired by the song If You're Gonna Lie by Fletcher

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: mild language, alcohol mentioned, implied infidelity, sex mentioned, slight angst, relationship conflict

Y/N's eyes stare blankly at the lipstick stained wine glass on the table in front of her. In the pit of her stomach brews regret and shame that she had spent all damn day preparing dinner and picking out a wine for Dean's seven o'clock arrival. Now at ten she sits alone with untouched plates and an empty bottle of wine.

The ticking of the clock mocks her, reminding her of the little voice inside of her that screamed not to trust him. Tightening her lips, she licks them, collecting the final drops of wine that replace the red lipstick she had been wearing. Her body buzzes in a Merlot induced high so she places her hand on the table to steady herself as she stands. She collects the plates and glasses slowly, fighting the urge to shatter them across the floor. 

Her nose crinkles as she scrapes the cold food into the trash aggressively with her fork. She sets the dishes into the dishwasher and starts it before swaying over to sit on the couch. Pulling out her phone she types a message about not appreciating being stood up for the fourth fucking time, but she deletes it and swipes down to click on the location icon.

She scoffs with a smile of disbelief, "oh, great! A motel near the strip club!" Y/N chucks her phone at the carpet before bringing her hands up to her face as soft sobs rock her body. She feels herself sinking more and more into the leather couch as she cries, and she must've dozed off at some point because she's jolted awake by a knock on the door.

The pounding of her heart is all she can hear as she quickly wipes her face. She's slow to bring herself to her feet, and once she does she glances at the clock. She groans. Midnight. Great. She thinks, rolling her eyes.

There's another knock, more anxious and loud now. "Hold on!" she shouts, using the furniture to keep her steady as she walks towards the banging.

Her head falls back against her neck when she sees Dean through the peephole. She lets out a soft, quiet breath and brings her head back up, resting her forehead in her hand. Her eyes close tight and she debates whether or not to let him in. He knocks again, more aggressively now.

She growls, shaking her hands out next to her. Suddenly, her ears ring and she swears she could even hear the buzzing of the lights above her. She takes another deep breath as she slowly unlocks the chain. She moves down to unlock the door, and then rests her hand on the door knob for a moment.

With a hand on her hip, she whips the door open and tries to make it very clear to Dean that she's pissed, but damnit she'd be lying if she said she wasn't excited to see him.

"Y/N! Thank you, I am so sorry!" he says, holding up his hands. There’s a slight bend to his knees as if to make him appear smaller. His eyebrows furrow, enhancing the shallow wrinkles on his forehead. She knows he's just going to feed her another story, and she stopped believing them a while ago, but she'd rather hear his lies than to have to hear him say goodbye.

So she says nothing, but leaves the door open as she turns around to walk back to her living room. He rushes in after her, closing the door behind him. When she plops onto the couch, he drops next to her, hands on her knees as he faces her.

"Y/N, please let me explain," he pleads, and she shrugs for him to go ahead, "I was shooting the shit with the guys at this bar, and," he starts.

"Let me guess, 'time just slipped away from you', right?" Y/N scoffs, her cheeks and jaw tighten as she fights the tears that plead to be released.

His face relaxes, and he swallows hard before allowing his mouth to hang open slightly. "Yeah," he says softly.

"You know, Dean," she says, and he focuses intently on her face, lit partially by the TV. His eyes flutter between hers, the way the light glimmers in her eyes nearly distracts him from her words, "you're starting to get repetitive," she says, eyes trained to the floor.

His body tenses, and his lips form a flat line. "Yeah," he nods. "I know. And I’m sorry," he says.

There's a long pause between them as she collects her conflicted thoughts; on the one hand, better late than never but on the other, she knows he's lying and that kind of pain cuts deep.

"Are you?" she squeaks out before she can stop herself, eyes darting at him. "Cause you say you were out with friends, but I know you were with another girl."

"What are you talking about,Y/N?" he says, eyes squinting. “I’m only seeing you.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, heat filling her chest, "I checked your location, but good fucking try." She takes in a deep breath. "I don't wanna fight, Dean," she slurs, "can we just lay down?"

Dean pushes his hands onto his thighs to bring himself to his feet, looking down at her for a moment before holding his hand out to her.

"Come on," he says gingerly. When she places her hand in his, he helps her to her feet, "get your shoes on," he adds.

"What? Why?" she asks, wide eyes.

With raised eyebrows, he sighs, "because I wanna show you something."

----

Y/N sits in the passenger seat of Dean's Impala with her arms crossed for the entirety of their near silent drive. She watches the window fog as Dean slows to round the corner of the motel parking lot.

"This where you saw me? My location?" he asks.

Uncrossing her arms, Y/N winds around in the seat to look for the strip club, falling back in her seat when she spots it, "yup."

Turning off the engine, he rolls out of the car and jogs to her side to help her out. Dean guides her to the door and Y/N feels like her heart could jump out of her chest. She listens to the howl of the wind as he inserts the key. When he opens the door, she immediately sees a tall, dark haired man in the room. Confused, she looks over at Dean.

"This is my brother, Sam," he says quickly, placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her into the room. "And, uh," he closes the door behind him, quickly raising his eyebrows at Sam's perplexed expression. "We have a pretty… ridiculous job," he adds.

She squints one eye, "Yeah, I remember you telling me that, but you wouldn't tell me what the job is," she snaps.

"Yeah," Sam says, shutting his book with one hand, holding the other out with a finger pointed at his brother, "and for good reason.” Dean brushes him off with a wave of his hand. "Dean, what are you doing?" Sam forces a quick, curt smile at Y/N, and takes a few steps closer to him, "can I talk to you? Outside," he says through gritted teeth.

Dean turns the corners of his lips down and shakes his head. He couldn't bear to see Y/N as hurt as she was tonight, and knowing that it was because of him and his lies made him realize he needed to come clean. And if that meant she thought he was crazy and never wanted to see him again, well... at least she would finally have the truth.

Taking her hands in his, he guides her to the bed and gestures for her to sit. He glances over at Sam, who utters under his breath "this better be worth it." Dean shrugs before sitting on the bed across from her, ignoring its whine under his weight.

"Listen Y/N, the truth is that Sam and I are-" he stops, shaking his head as he looks down into his folded hands. The leaky faucet from the bathroom drips a few times before he carries on, "listen, this is gonna sound nuts, so I need you to just... just hear me out, please."

She nods, "okay..."

He lets out a shaky breath, "ghosts, demons, vampires... it's all real," he begins, watching her face carefully for any signs of disgust or fear, "and the short story is that Sam and I... we, uh... we hunt and kill them."

Y/N's silent for a while, not exactly sure how to take this so-called confession. As far as she's concerned it's yet another lie. She glances over at Sam and he looks down at the ground, his face scrunched in a frown.

"Is this true?" she asks Sam, and his eyes dart at Dean and then her.

He brings a hand to his mouth, sweeping it down and around his bottom lip. He sighs, throwing his hands out and sits on the bed next to Dean. "Yeah, 'fraid so," he says.

Turning her attention to Dean now, she says, "so... what, you drive around the country fighting bad guys with your brother like some fucking superhero and come into my town when you want... what, a good fuck or something?"

Dean scoots closer to Y/N, grabbing her hands in his, "no, no, no. It's nothing like that," he pauses, "I mean, we do drive around the country ‘fighting bad guys’, I guess but..." he stalls again, trying to find the right words.

"Well, what is it like, then? Because this feels like it’s either an elaborate way of trying to get rid of me, or you're trying to manipulate me into being okay with the way things have been so far. And I'm not. I need someone who's going to show up on time. Someone who won't lie to me."

"I swear to you, the lies are over," Dean pleads. "At least let me prove it to you."

"How? How're you gonna do that?" Y/N asks, arms crossed.

Dean glances at Sam, begging for his help with his eyes. Sam rolls his eyes, boots clacking against the hardwood floor as he walks over to grab the book he'd been reading.

He takes it to sit back down with Dean and Y/N. He flips the book around to show Y/N the page he was on, and his voice echoes in the room as he explains the monster they're hunting and how it's about an hour south of her town, but Dean wanted to stop by to see Y/N first.

Y/N's hesitant, but not willing to lose Dean, not yet, so she takes the chance. "You're not in the clear yet, Dean, but I'm tired and I just wanna go to bed. Can I sleep here and we'll figure the rest out in the morning?"

"Yeah, of course," he says, bringing himself to his feet, "uh, you can take my bed and I'll sleep on the couch."

"No. If you're gonna lie, at least do it in the bed."

~~~

If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

Everything Tags<3

@waywardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover78 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @noodledoodlebug @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @sigrunsavestheday @flamencodiva @roseblue373

Dean <3

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#dean winchester #reader x dean winchester #female reader x dean #supernatural #supernatural fic #dean winchester angst #spn #supernatural fandom #supernatural fan fic #fanfic #dean angst #3rd person pov

[queen-of-deans-booty]

The Night Has Just Begun

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~700

Warnings: smut, grinding, dry humping

Request by anon: #3 I find grey sweatpants to be incredibly hot, so just dean wearing them and also, maybe him finding out that reader is flexible and he thinks it's attractive or something? Again, implied or full smut or none at all, whatever you like (but can I say, sitting in his lap and grinding while he's wearing the sweatpants, I need holy water)

Summary: A night of horror movies turns into something Dean can’t refuse, not when you show him how flexible you can be.

Square Filled: touch starvation (2021) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

While Dean is in the shower, you get the movie set up in Dean’s man cave. You have the popcorn ready, two jumbo-sized drinks, and a bunch of snacks. It’s Halloween time, so you want to watch horror movies to kick start the spooky season.

Sam is out with Eileen right now and won’t return until the next morning, so you and Dean have the bunker to yourselves. It will be spent watching horror movies all night so you might have nightmares tomorrow, but that’s fine.

Sam hates watching horror movies because he claims his life is a horror movie. However, you’d take an immortal killer in a hockey mask over vampires and ghosts any day. Dean is a horror junkie, so you’re glad you have him to experience this with.

“Alright, I’m here,” Dean says as he walks into the man cave.

You turn to greet him, but your mouth goes dry, your heart slows down, and your jaw drops a bit. On days like this, Dean likes to wear as little as possible while still being decent enough to hang around other people. He’s wearing a thin henley shirt with dark gray sweatpants. A man in sweatpants is your absolute weakness, especially when Dean wears them.

“Press play, sweetheart,” Dean says, hopping onto the couch.

You can only stare at the outline of Dean’s cock through his sweatpants. There is no restriction to hold it in place, so it’s free flowing. Dean takes the remote from you and presses play, not even paying attention to you. Your eyes are on his lower half as if he is a stripper; he doesn’t deserve you staring at him like this.

Dean can feel your eyes on him, but he tries to ignore you for the first half of the movie. By the time it reaches halftime, he pauses the movie and turns to face you.

“Do you need something, darling?” Your eyes snap up to him, and your cheeks heat up so much that you think you have a fever. You turn to hide your face, but he reaches over and grabs your hand to stop you. “No, don’t hide. If you need something, then just grab it. Do something about it.”

The two of you are the only ones here without the younger Winchester around to bother you. Instead of chickening out, you get up and face his chair. He leans back and waits for you to do something. You lift your right leg and swing it over the chair so that your knee hooks over the back of his chair.

Dean’s eyes widen at your flexibility, but he has yet to say something about it. You push your body toward him so your pussy is pushing against his cock deliciously. Dean grips the arm rests to prevent him from grabbing at your skin.

You slide your right leg from the back of the chair over his body, and you set yourself on his lap so you can feel the whole outline of his cock. You start to grind down on him, and you place your hands on his chest to steady yourself.

“Fuck,” Dean groans in a low voice. “Sweetheart…”

He moves his hands toward your body, but you slap his hands.

“No touching, Dean,” you grin and grind down harder.

Dean doesn’t get touched very often, so when someone does, he craves it. The fact that you denied him this is messing with his mind. His cock hardens and pushes against your clit, sending waves of pleasure shooting throughout your body.

“Do you like that? Are you going to come for me?” you ask, and he nods quickly.

“Yes, fuck,” he groans.

There is a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead, and he throws his head back so quickly that the back of his head bangs against the chair. You quicken your pace and grind down harder until the point where Dean comes into his pants. There is a wet patch on the front from you, and he pants heavily underneath you.

You lean closer to him as if you’re going to kiss him, but your lips don’t touch.

“Clean it up,” you whisper.

You get off him with a smirk with the intention of going back to your room, but Dean has other plans. He gets up so quickly you think he was the Flash or something. He grabs you by the legs and throws you over his shoulder.

“This night has only just begun,” he smirks.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester smut #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fluff #supernatural smut #spn #spn fic #spn fiction #spn fanfiction #spn fan fiction #spn fanfic #spn fan fic #spn fluff #spn smut

[moosealecki]

𝑫𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒕?

(𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

| ・゜゜・．this is just some random dribbles drabble of what-if scenarios of my favorite babies. | pairings; Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader | fandom; supernatural

| requests for some dean x reader content.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

“Sam, what if you could go an entire week without using your conditioner?”

“Why would I go entire week without washing my hair?” Sam chuckled slightly, his eyes never wavering from the material he was reading.

“No, I mean you wash it, just not use your magical hair serum.” she slightly reworded, she knew he would never do it. He cherished his hair, even if he didn’t admit it.

“I don’t see what the point is in all of this.”

“You’re right, forgot how much of a chicken you are.”

“Chicken? What are we…four?” Sam thought to himself, closing the book as he placed it down on the table. “You’d know what, you’re on.”

“Wait really?”

“Oh yeah, but if I can’t use my uh conditioner, you can’t vape for a week.”

“Mhm, devious, but fine—what are the stakes if either of us lose?”

“Alright love birds, keep your clothes on.” dean shouted from the other side of the room. “Neither of you are going to even win that bet.”

“Oh yeah, well how about this d-e-a-n-o, I bet you can’t go without alcohol for an entire week.” She scoffs from her seat.

“Darling, you have no idea who you are betting right now. FINE, but let me just first.” Dean reached for his beer, gulping down the liquid until the bottle was completely empty. “Wait, give me just—” dean stood from his seat to walk over, taking his brothers beer “HEY you JERK! That was—mine” gulping that down until it was completely empty as well. “Alright, game on darling.”

Sam rolling his eyes, (Y/N) would be throwing dean a glare as she taken her own beer into her hands, gulping down the liquid, humming as she placed it back down. “Mhm, I could use another beer, how about you Sam?” she was taunting the older Winchester, brushing past him to walk to the kitchen. Grabbing the pair a couple of beers. She turned around only to find the older Winchester standing in the doorway of the kitchen entrance.

“Yeah, hand it over.” He spoke in a snarky voice.

“Hand what over?”

“You know, the vape, for a week, right?”

She could see the game he was playing, walking over to him as she slid it from the front pocket of her shorts. Leaning in slightly she handed it over to him. He would grasp her wrist taking hold of it. “We both know you won’t win this bet, sweetheart.”

“Game on,” she whispered slightly against his face.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

#supernatural fan fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #sam x reader

[waywardxwords]

Chapter 7 - We're Not in Kansas Anymore

Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.

Chapter Warnings: Some angst, language, Supernatural-y things (demons, exorcism, etc.)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: ~3.3k

[1][2][3][4][5][6]

Moments after Meg hung up the phone, your front door swung open. He looked pissed, and a little bit concerned, as his eyes moved over you. 

“You alright?” He asked gruffly as his eyes swept down your body, subsequently looking for any injuries. You nodded, unable to speak out loud from the confusion and terror coursing through you. His eyes returned to yours with a look that read as sympathetic, like he was sorry. 

Before he could move again, Meg returned her hold on you with a nod of her head. Your feet left the ground once more, and you couldn’t stop the scream that came up from your belly as you were pressed against the wall again. 

“Dammit, Meg!” Dean cursed. He took a step towards you and Meg stopped him in his tracks. 

“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged her finger. “Not another step, Dean.”

“You wanted to talk? Well, you got me,” he held his hands out wide, and to you it looked like he was trying to show her that he had no weapons or wasn’t trying to threaten her. It made you wonder what kind of weapon could stop Meg, or a demon, rather. It also made you worried for your friend who, you guessed, was trapped in there somewhere. But really, you had no idea. 

“Yeah, well, something tells me that if I let her go, this won’t just be a friendly chat anymore,” she rounded the corner a bit as Dean shifted in the living room. Her back was now to the kitchen, which led to your laundry room and back door. Your eyes noticed movement in the shadows of the laundry room. You would’ve screamed if Meg still didn’t have her hold on you. 

“What do you want, Meg?” You knew Dean had to see the man slowly inching his way into the kitchen, but he didn’t falter. He didn’t even allow his eyes to pass over the shadow. Instead, he continued talking to Meg. 

“Word on the street is that you and your idiot brother are trying to close the gates of Hell,” she shifted her body so she was completely facing Dean. “You’ve got a lot of people looking for you, ya know.”

“Ah, come on. I shouldn’t be that hard to find,” Dean quipped back. 

At that very moment, the shadow stepped fully into the light. He was a tall man, and based on Meg’s comment, you assumed he may have been Dean’s brother, Sam. In two quick, long strides he was just a few feet behind Meg. You noticed the gallon jug of what looked like water in his arms. In one quick movement, he doused Meg with the liquid and she screamed. She writhed against the water, and fog or smoke started to lift off of her skin. 

As soon as the water had been tossed, you felt the weight fall away and gravity took over. You fell to the ground in a heap just like you had before. Dean reached you quickly, he tentatively put a hand on your shoulder and eyed the situation in front of him. The taller man in the room snapped what looked like cuffs on Meg's wrists. She sputtered as she looked down at them. 

“Devil’s trap on cuffs?” She tried to mock, but somehow you could tell she was frustrated. “Very clever, boys.” She spit out some of the water that she had ingested. You clambered to your feet and brushed your hair out of your eyes as you attempted to regain your composure. Dean moved in front of you and blocked your view. “Aren’t you tired of playing games? I sure am.” 

“You’re the one who started this,” the taller man pushed back as he held onto her arm. Even though her hands were locked in handcuffs, it seemed he was still nervous she would run off. 

“Oh, come on, Sasquatch,” she rolled her eyes. “You know you wouldn’t have listened to me if the circumstances were different.” Her eyes moved towards where you stood behind Dean. She peered her head to see around him. As soon as she made eye contact, you averted your gaze. 

“Don’t look at her,” Dean said firmly as he adjusted his stance. “You know what they say, Meg. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.” 

“Yeah, well, what now, hot shot? You gonna use the demon blade on me? Take me hostage? What happens when I ditch this meat suit?” She bit back. Your eyes focused on Dean’s back and wondered what any of that meant. The memory of what Meg had referred to earlier surfaced: whatever happens to that body, happens to Jen.

“Jen’s my best friend,” there was a slight stutter to your soft voice as you tried to cope with everything that had happened. “Don’t hurt her.”

Dean’s head cocked to the side as he listened to you. You watched the muscle that lined his jaw flinch before he turned back to Meg. 

“We’re gonna send this bitch back to Hell,” Dean’s words came out strong and confident. It sent a shiver throughout your body. Before you could ask what that meant, Dean seemed to sense your question. “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna hurt your friend.” 

Meg seemed nervous, but Sam started speaking in a language you didn’t recognize. Latin, maybe? But as he spoke, Meg seemed to become very uncomfortable. She pulled against the cuffs, and then something happened that you had only ever seen in movies before—the kind of movies that gave you nightmares. You peered over Dean’s shoulder and watched as Jen’s head shook violently side to side. Her mouth opened and then thick black smoke began to funnel out of her. Instinctively, you reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s jacket. A tremble coursed through your body. 

And then just like that, your friend crumpled to the floor. Sam rushed to her with a key and undid the handcuffs. 

You pushed past Dean and dropped to your knees by her. She slowly opened her eyes. 

“Where the hell am I?” She blinked up at you and the two men standing over you and sat up quickly. "And why am I wet?"

“Jen, take it easy,” you breathed and tried to calm your shaking hands. “You passed out.” It wasn’t a total lie, and you already knew Jen would have a hard time believing any of this. You certainly did, until you saw it for yourself. "I splashed some water on you to try to get you to wake up."

“I…I don’t even remember coming inside. I pulled up to your driveway, and then something happened…” her words fell off as you could sense her trying to remember. “There was black smoke.” Her eyes widened and you panicked. 

“You must have hallucinated or something,” you quickly tried to fill in the gaps. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” she rubbed at her forehead before she took on the two men behind you. Her eyebrows went upwards as she tried to place the two of them. “Is that…?”

Before anyone could say anything else, you interjected. “Jimmy and Ben, my new neighbors. They, uh, they heard me yelling for help when you passed out,” you lied through your teeth. You had lied to her more than once tonight, and that didn’t sit well with you, but the alternative (the truth) was too complicated. “They came to help.” Dean and Sam both managed a small nod as they watched over Jen. “Here, let me walk you both out.”

“You sure?” Dean eyed you carefully as you stood and helped your friend to her feet. You led her to the couch, but her gaze stayed on Dean. 

“I’m sure,” you answered quickly. “I’ll get her some food and water. I’m sure it was just a low blood sugar thing.”

“I don’t have low blood sugar,” Jen’s voice was low but she plopped down on the couch anyway. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” your words were jumbled together. You just wanted to get Dean and Sam out. Jen had read the articles, you knew she would recognize Dean once she fully became aware of her surroundings, if she hadn’t already. The whole demon thing was hard enough for you to understand, and you had witnessed it for yourself. 

You gently placed a hand on Dean’s back and one on Sam’s as you ushered them to the door. Once you were through the doorway, you pulled the door shut behind you and closed your eyes. It felt like the first time you could take a breath since this entire ordeal started (and to be honest, since you had stumbled upon the articles about Dean in the first place). 

“Jimmy and Ben?” Dean’s voice was low as he eyed you cautiously. He didn’t know where you stood in all of this, but was dying to find out. To be honest, you didn't even know yourself; there was so much to wrap your mind around.

“I panicked,” you matched his volume. “I couldn’t tell her the truth. She just got done reading articles about how you’re both murderers and are supposed to be dead. I’m sure she’ll put it together once she sees your pictures again. I just have to figure out how to explain it to her. She’s never going to understand.” You nibbled subconsciously on your bottom lip. Once you realized you were doing it, your eyes popped up to Dean. His words from that night were all you could process: “What’d I tell you about that lip?” You released it immediately, though you could tell by the way he clenched his teeth and his jaw tightened, he had noticed. 

“Do you understand?” Dean asked gently. Whatever hold you had over him a moment ago, he had pushed it out of his brain and refocused on the situation you were currently in. 

“Not in the least,” you sighed as the weight of everything seemed to fall over you; you had to lean against the door just to hold yourself up. “But I’m realizing there are things I guess I just can’t understand. And maybe you aren’t a psychopath and maybe you were telling me the truth. Is Jen going to be alright?”

Dean offered a small smile, but his eyes still pierced through you—it was almost as if he was worried if he looked away, you might keel over. “She’ll be fine. She might have weird memories, but physically, she’ll be alright.”

You nodded, satisfied with that answer. “So what does this all mean? And that was a demon?” Your eyes danced between them and then steadied on Sam. “And you—how did you get into my house? I have so many questions.” You sounded exasperated, because that’s exactly what you were. 

Sam smiled cautiously. It seemed like these boys were worried if they weren’t careful, you might break. “It was way too easy. You really should lock your windows,” he chuckled lightly before he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m Sam, by the way. It’s nice to meet you,” he put his hand out for you to shake. You were hesitant, but you took it. After all, these guys had just saved your life. 

“We’re gonna stay close, once Jen leaves, let’s talk, alright?” Dean offered, still with a low tone. “I’m sure if Meg knows about you, others do too. Or they will soon enough. We’ll park a few houses down and keep an eye out.”

“And what about Meg? Is she truly gone?” You watched them nervously. 

“For now,” Dean answered. “She’ll find a way out of hell, she always does. If word gets out, which it will, about what we’re trying to do, she’ll claw her way out before she lets it happen. Most of them will…” his words were hard and serious. This was serious. 

“I have so many questions,” the words came out in a breath. Now that the shock was wearing off, the utter fear, anxiety and physical pain from falling twice was starting to set in. 

“I know you do, sweetheart,” it almost seemed like Dean winced after he said the word, but you ignored it. “We’ll get there, I promise. Just try to relax. You’re safe right now, and I intend to keep it that way.”

You knew he meant it by the force of his words and the look in his eyes. You nodded. 

“Okay, then,” you took a shaky breath and straightened yourself so you weren’t leaning against the door. “I’ll, um, I’ll call you?” You glanced back at Dean and he nodded. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, like there was something he wanted to do. But instead, he and Sam walked down your front steps and to the street to head back to the car. 

You took a deep breath before you went inside. 

“So, wanna know what’s weird?” Jen asked as you rinsed the dishes. You made her sit at the table and drink her water, even after she tried to insist on helping you. She hadn’t brought up anything that had happened, and you were thankful, though surprised. You had a twisting feeling in your gut that told you that was about to change. 

“Hmm?” You hummed as you put the rinsed dish in the dishwasher. 

“Your neighbor looks a lot like Dean…” she eyed you over her water glass. 

Thankfully, the dish had made it on the rack before it slipped out of your hands. You let a few seconds pass before you laughed nervously. 

“Really? I guess I didn’t see it,” you avoided eye contact even though you could feel her gaze. 

Jen stood from her seat and you eyed her carefully. There were uneasy feelings when you looked at her that you couldn’t forget. You knew it wasn’t her before—she didn’t have some crazy superpower and she couldn’t fling you against a wall. But still, it was hard to separate what happened with Meg from your friend standing beside you. 

“Oh, please,” she gave you a look that told you she knew you weren’t giving her the whole story. “The man you’ve been trying to forget for three days has an uncanny resemblance to your ‘neighbor’ and you don’t notice?” She folded her arms across her chest. 

“Jen, I can’t explain it,” you said simply with a sigh as you finally turned to face her. “I’m sorry for everything—I’m sorry you passed out, I’m sorry for dragging you into the whole Dean thing. I’m just sorry.”

Her gaze softened as you blabbed in the middle of your kitchen. “Hey, you don’t owe me any apologies, okay?” If only she knew the truth. “I’m your best friend. You don’t have to apologize for anything. And you can talk to me, alright?” You nodded once and focused your gaze on the tile by your feet. “Look, it’s been a long night. I’m exhausted. I’m gonna head out, but can we talk tomorrow? Please?” She tilted her head so you’d look at her. 

Tomorrow. At least it gave you some time to process everything. “Tomorrow sounds good,” you replied. Jen sighed and wrapped her arms around you in a hug. “You sure you’re okay to drive home?” Worry bubbled through you. Even though Dean had said she would be alright, you just couldn’t be sure. Hell, you weren’t sure of anything at that moment. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back with a small smile. “It takes me maybe five minutes to get home. I’ll even text you when I get there.”

“Okay, deal,” you smiled back. You walked your friend to the door and promised her a phone call the next day. Your arms folded across your chest as you stood on your front porch and watched her pull away, partially to block the cool night air in Virginia, but also to protect yourself from everything that had terrified you that night. Both sent shivers up your spine. 

As soon as her tail lights turned down another street, headlights illuminated behind you. Just as promised, it looked as though Dean and Sam had parked just a few houses down the block. 

As they pulled up to the curb in front of your home, you recognized that it wasn’t the Impala. 

Both doors opened at the same time, and you tried to manage a smile as they got out of the car. “How’re you doing?” Dean asked as they climbed the steps to your porch. 

A shrug lifted and dropped your shoulders. “It’s been a weird three days, putting it lightly.”

You opened the door to welcome them inside. 

“Ha,” Dean chuckled lightly. “I can imagine.” You realized how he must have felt after not hearing from you. While you had gone through your own misery and fear of losing him because you thought he was some psychopathic killer, to then realizing he was telling the truth, he must have been so confused and worried. 

“Hey, uh, could I use your restroom?” Sam asked as he cleared his throat. You nodded and showed him the way. It was pretty obvious he was trying to give you and Dean a moment. 

Dean hesitated, but came back to stand in front of you after Sam went down the hall. 

“I owe you an apology,” you said softly as you tried to calm your heart as it raced in your chest. 

“No you don’t,” he shook his head adamantly and shoved his hands in his pockets to busy them so he wouldn’t reach out and touch you. “You had every right to run for the hills. In fact, I owe you an apology.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “There are a lot of things I should’ve done…and probably some things I shouldn’t have, too.” His tone had dropped. “You’re wrapped up in this because of me. And I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured as you studied his eyes. They were the same as you remembered them from just a few days before. “I was interested in you from the jump. And I called you, remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” he chuckled softly as his face softened. “But I probably should’ve said no.”

You shook your head immediately without having to take a second thought. 

“No, please don’t say that,” you reached for his hands and pulled them from his pockets. The feeling of his skin on yours once more created a flutter in your chest that almost felt like pieces were being put back together. “Even knowing all that I know now, as crazy as it’s going to sound…I wouldn’t go back and change anything.”

Dean brought your hands up to his lips and left a soft kiss there. “I hear you. And I wouldn’t want to change it, either. But this life isn’t a life you want anything to do with. I should’ve been smarter about that. I usually am, but you were…”

“Different,” you answered for him with a small nod. “I know what you mean.” 

Sam had reemerged from the bathroom and slowly made his way into the living room. He cleared his throat to announce his presence. 

“So, what does this mean now? You’re sure Jen isn’t in any kind of danger?” Dean had let your hands go and you shifted your gaze to look at both of them. 

“I don’t think so,” Dean answered. “Meg wanted to get to us, and she knew she could do that through you. We’ll have a friend of ours keep an eye on Jen, just to be safe.” You felt okay with that answer, for now at least. “But you, on the other hand…” his words fell again as he looked at you. “I don’t wanna scare you when I say this—“

You cut him off with a wave of your hand. “With all I’ve witnessed and learned today, I don’t think I could be more scared than I already am. Lay it on me.” 

Dean offered up a small smile. “If Meg knows about you, then others will, too.” You nodded as you tried to process. “How do you feel about coming to Kansas for a little while?”

A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! There's chapter 6 - how are we feeling? She finally is starting to make sense of everything (the best she can). And maybe going to Kansas with the Winchesters?

Thank you for reading, like, reblogging or commenting (or all of the above!). Feedback always brings me a lot of joy :)

Chapter 8 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/18!

Chapter 8 Preview:

“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.

“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.

“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.

“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 

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#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fan fic #supernatural ff #spn fanfiction #spn fan fiction #spn fanfic #spn fan fic #spn ff #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester ff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester #taking chances

[smellingofpoetry]

Strangers

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Benny Lafitte

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: They were just two strangers, dancing in the middle of a club.

Warnings: pre-smut

Word count: 486

A/N: Hi! I wrote this little thing for @princessmisery666's "Daily Mixes Challenge". I got "Tell It to My Heart" by Hozier, MEDUSA. While listening to the song I could imagine so well to be in the middle of a dance floor, so I let the melody guide me and here we are. I hope you guys are gonna like it. Feedback is gold. ❤ All errors are mine.

Dean noticed her the moment she stepped into the room. She walked down the stairs and into the dancing crowd, following her friends. He watched her move, glancing around herself while trying to keep down the short skirt she was wearing and that it kept rising with her every step. He kept following her with his eyes, ignoring Benny's rambling, too busy watching her. He was at his third beer when her friends managed to drag her to the dance floor. Unlike her friends, she slowly moved from one foot to the other quite shyly. Dean watched her move her hips in time with the song playing until the beat faded. He drank what was left of his beer, patting Benny’s shoulder before walking towards the dancing floor. His friend watched him walk away with a smirk before ordering himself a new drink. Dean moved through the sweaty crowd, following the beating sound of the song, stopping only when he was a few feet away from her. He started to sway from one side to the other, matching her movements. She noticed him right away, glancing at him through the crowd. She kept shuffling before, with a half spin, she gave him her back. Dean moved a few steps closer then, making her bite down her lower lip while trying to repress the smile that was trying to escape her. They both kept following the beat of the song, with her glancing back at him and with him reaching for her hips to keep her a bit closer. Dean boldly sneaked one of his arms around her middle ever so slowly. Y/N was now pressed against his chest while their hips languidly swayed back and forth. Dean moved a strand of her hair to one side, exposing her neck and leaving a trail of goosebumps along her skin while his perfume invaded her nostrils. So, Y/N turned around, lacing her arms around his neck while Dean’s arm was firmly around her middle. She welcomed one of his legs between hers without missing a beat. His jeans were the only barrier between them. He could feel her nails scrapping at the base of his neck, making him shiver. Y/N smiled at the feeling of the goosebumps under her fingertips, and before she could do anything else, Dean’s lips were on hers. All it took for her to disclose her mouth was a second to register the warmth of his mouth against her painted lips and welcome him. And just like that, they suddenly stopped moving in the middle of a crowded dance floor, too busy to taste each other. Dean didn’t waste any time, kissing her a bit harder while his tongue went searching for hers. The moment their tongues touched, a moan escaped both. The loud music was the only reason they didn’t hear it. Nobody could. The heart, instead… well, that was a different story.

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[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

i like your shoelaces (thanks! I stole them from the president)

Chapter 5 is up!

Summary:

He hits the send button before his senses - common or otherwise - cause him to change his mind, then leans back into his leather chair to gaze upon the ceiling. He shouldn’t be doing this. The entire point was to stay away from Dean, disengage in any contact or communication. Then again, this isn’t Castiel Milton, President of the United States. It’s just Tumblr user @ fishpotato58, writing some silly words under the guise of good old internet anonymity. Well - not full anonymity - because Cas realizes suddenly that in his Tumblr green-ness, he forgot to toggle the “anonymous” option when sending Dean the ask. This is further underscored when he looks back at his laptop screen and sees that there’s a tiny number one winking at him ominously from the smiley face that denotes he has - a direct communication. Specifically, a direct communication from none other than Tumblr user @ sluttypumpkin

read from the beginning here!

#destiel fan fic #deancas fan fic #destiel #deancas #fan fic rec #spn fan fic #supernatural fan fic #scribbles #shoelaces #Dean Winchester is a custodian at a fast food restaurant #Castiel is the President of the United States