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novafics · 10 months

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l Storm l

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: storms, Talk of potential injury, talk of animal abuse.

Summary: Coming back from a hunt you discover something very interesting, but how is Dean going to react to this discovery?

Word Count: 801

Masterlist

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You knew this was a bad idea the moment you contemplated doing it, but how could you resist?.

You had just finished your solo Vampire hunt and was on the way back to the bunker. The hunt itself was relatively easy, only 1 vampire gone rogue and it was over faster than you thought it would be, so fast that you thought you would rather make the drive that very night back to the bunker instead of staying in the motel you had already pre-booked. You don’t know why, whether it was the lure of your soft, warm bed or the thought of Dean waiting for you in your soft warm bed but you were eager to return to your man. That, and you had a gut feeling that there was a reason you needed to make your way back early.

Half way through the drive back the weather took a turn for the worse, the sky looked dark and angry while there was rain pelting your windscreen with such force you thought it might just break. It got to a point that you had to pull over, the last thing you wanted was to survive a vampire hunt just to get taken out by a storm. You pulled over into a clearing on the side of the road, it was pretty much barren apart from a few trees now bare with the force of the wind stripping each and every tree of their remaining leaves.

As you sat in the car, the storm still causing havoc, you spotted something out of the corner of your eye. Over next to one of the trees sat a black bag, seeming to be moving with a force that was contained inside the bag and not from the forces raging outside. Deciding to investigate you took a strong breath in preparing yourself for the wet and cold you were about to face and you set off for the tree.

Slowly bending down you discovered that there was definitely something inside this bag, and it wanted out!.

Holding your breath once more you tore into the bag to discover a miserable looking, cold and shivering puppy. ‘Who the hell would do such a thing?!’ you thought to yourself. You had seen some pretty gruesome shit in your time as a hunter with the boys but never something this inhumane to an innocent animal.

Putting your anger aside for the sake of this little puppy you quickly gathered him up into your arms and made your way back to the temporary safety of the car. Once inside you checked over the puppy to see if there weren't any injuries you should worry about and after not finding anything for a solid 20 minutes you let out the breath you were holding finally realising that the innocent dog was ok.

Not even a second after you stop looking over the dog he climbed into your lap and started licking your face to show his gratitude. “What am I gonna do with you huh?” you asked the puppy as if he was gonna answer you.

You knew that Dean was not a dog person, Sam yes so that wouldn’t be a problem but Dean? He was not gonna be happy, but as the puppy looked into your eyes, still sat in your lap how could you resist?

After the further 40 minute drive back to the bunker you were finally back, the puppy next to you eager to see everything inside. You pushed open the bunker door and made your way down the steps, you didn’t get much further before you were tackled into a hug by Dean.

“Where have you been?! I was so close to going out into the storm and finding you myself, are you alright sweetheart?” he said frantically, holding your face in his hands. “Yes I'm fine baby, i promise” you said finally giving in and kissing him as you had been wishing to for the last few hours.

“Hey is that a dog?” you heard Sam say from behind Dean. The puppy was currently sitting waiting patiently behind your legs waiting to be introduced. “Yes he’s the reason I was so late, someone just threw him away in a bag, can you believe that?!. Look I know you're not a fan of dog’s Dean but ..” your rambling was cut short with another kiss from Dean making you relax instantly and all the stress you had melted away. “I don’t care if you came back with an entire zoo as long as I have you here with me, '' Dean said, making tears come to your eyes.

“So, what should we name him?” Dean said, bending down to lovingly stroke the puppy. “I've been thinking, I think his name should be…. Storm”.

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chucksfavouriteprophet · 2 years

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The Intrusion - (Series Masterlist)

Dean Winchester x Reader (F)

Summary: Having lived alone in your secret batcave for years now, the last thing you expected was two burly hunters to come storming in acting like they own the place. Somehow, you've got to make this strange dynamic work, but inevitably secrets will spill and hearts will break in the process.

Chapter 1 - Life is fine. Life is peaceful. Its just you, and your nice big home, with no one to bother you, and no one to invade your privacy. Until all of a sudden, there is.

Chapter 2 - Even as you start to adjust to life with housemates, you can't quite figure out the Winchester boys. Although sooner or later, you're bound to end up in a situation where you have to.

Chapter 3 - Accidents make emotions run high, and its not long before you confront Dean about his attitude towards you. However, all may not be as it seems.

Chapter 4 - You make some risky decisions once the brothers are gone, knowing they'll bite you in the ass at some point. When you finally see Dean again, not in the most appropriate position, the dynamics seem to have twisted.

Chapter 5 - Dean reflects on the events of the night and battles with his feelings for you, torn between hatred and tenderness. On different sides of one door, the pair of you battle your conflicting emotions completely oblivious of each other.

Chapter 6 - As you and Dean start to face your feelings, you start to accept that you need to communicate to make things work. A compromise is struck which meets all living arrangements, but it might mean a new career is on the cards.

Chapter 7 - You join the brothers on your first hunt, which reveals some surprising talents that prompt you to come clean about your past.

Chapter 8 - After the hunt, Dean gives you a surprise that brings you closer and sparks start to fly. That is, until the mood is seriously ruined and all hopes of the two of you getting along seem doubtful.

Chapter 9 - Dean gets back from his excursion and you bump into him in the kitchen. Emotions are running high, but is this what you both need to finally break the ice for good?

Chapter 10 - You and Dean deal with the aftermath of the previous night's events and Cas arrives with bad news from Heaven.

Chapter 11 - In preparation for the Demon invasion, you and Dean team up. But as you flirt your way around, you loose sight of where you are and end up stumbling into some very personal, and painful, memories.

Chapter 12 - You return to the bunker only to be met by an unwelcome visitor with even more unwelcome news.

Chapter 13 - The time has come to put your skills to the test. A social recluse, 2 seasoned hunters, an Angel and the King of Hell vs...well, everyone else from Hell. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter 14 - The aftermath of the fight leaves a life on the line and brings emotions to the surface.

Chapter 15 - Our dysfunctional family come together to embrace a second chance at life together and take a more positive outlook on the future.

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queen-of-deans-booty · 3 months

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Find Your Way Back Home: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: minor angst, fluff, implied smut at the end

Summary: You and Dean finally reunite after being apart for so long. Emotions are high, confessions are given, and you think you might be falling in love with him all over again.

Author’s Note: This is the final part of six parts of the commission for @winchester-sinchester. Dean is thirty-one, the reader is twenty-three, and Sam is twenty-seven.

You and Sam haven’t been together since that fateful night. You couldn’t face Dean for days until you made yourself realize that you shouldn’t feel guilty for moving on. He clearly had. After coming to that realization on your own, hunting with Dean became a helluva lot easier. You’re done feeling guilty for a man who couldn’t even decide if he wanted you or not. His body says yes but his actions say no.

You’re not sure which answer you’re prepared to hear.

You can’t really focus on your relationship with Dean since Sam is such a big problem in and of itself. He became so much worse from when you got Dean; nearly killing Bobby, killing innocents in the name of a hunt, letting Dean get turned into a vampire, putting you in the line of fire multiple times, and so much more.

Dean couldn’t take it after almost hurting Bobby so he made a deal with Death who got Sam’s soul for him from the cage. He put a big Great Wall of Sam inside his head that protected him from the things he did while being soulless, so as long as he didn’t go poking at it, everything will be fine.

He poked at it until it crumbled.

The only thing that saved him from the endless torment of Lucifer is Castiel who came in and took Sam’s pain as his own. Castiel took on Lucifer so that Sam could walk free. That’s when his path to redemption began, starting with everyone he wronged and ending with you. Sam couldn’t look at you for days after figuring out that you and he had sex for nearly a year while Dean was playing house with Lisa.

“Sam, we both consented to it. You don’t have to be sorry,” you sigh.

“I know but I took advantage of you.”

“Actually, I took advantage of you. You were the perfect distraction from my feelings for Dean. You gave me what I needed when I needed it. Don’t be sorry for that.”

“Promise we’re okay?”

“I promise,” you smile at him.

“Good. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Sam gets up from your bed and leaves the motel room you got yourself. It’s hard to see him as the soft and lovable person you grew up with instead of the monster he became, but it took time for your heart to heal from him. The only thing incomplete in your life is Dean. You’re not sure what you’re going to do about him. He’s acting like he didn’t toy with your feelings for years and that’s honestly pissing you off.

He promised not to leave you but then again, he promised a lot of things that he never kept.

Someone knocks on your motel door and you walk over to it with a sigh. Thinking it’s Sam, you start talking before you can open the door.

“Look, I told you I’ve already forgiven you.”

You open the door mid-sentence and see Dean standing there with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Really?”

“I thought you were someone else.” You turn to go back to your bag which is sitting on your bed. You’re about to take a shower so your shower stuff is lying on the bed. Dean walks in and closes the door behind him. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have Lisa waiting for you at home?”

“I ended it with her.”

You’re not sure what to say for a few seconds. You were expecting a lot of things, just not that.

“I’m sorry,” is all you can manage.

“Don’t be. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For leaving you.”

You don’t know why but this pisses you off more than it should. You swiftly turn to face Dean with a glare and cross your arms.

“For which time exactly? The first time when you took my virginity and promised not to leave? Or how about the time after that?” You give a bitter laugh. “Oh, I know, it’s the time when you fucked me and left me in the middle of the night to be with some woman you haven’t connected with in eight years. Tell me, Dean, what time you’re referring to?”

“Sweetheart--”

“No, don’t sweetheart me. I am so fucking pissed at you because not only did you leave me multiple times, but you took my heart with you every time until there was nothing left of me to give. To anyone. Are you sorry about that? Are you sorry for making me fall in love with you?”

Dean runs his hands through his hair and yanks on the short strands in frustration.

“Fuck, Y/N, it was because I fell in love with you that I had to leave.”

“What?” you whisper.

“I found myself falling for you, more with each day I spent with you. Shit, you were only eighteen when I allowed myself to feel something for you, to see you other than the kid I met at the park. It took everything in me to walk away because I’m so fucked in the head. I’ve gotten more people killed than I am able to save, and it’s because they knew me. I couldn’t let that happen to you. I thought if I left, you would move on to someone else, someone who could give you what I couldn’t.

“Then, I found myself back in your arms. It hurt me to leave. No, it killed me to leave. Lisa was out of the life. She was away from it all. I felt like if I took you out of the life, I’d be taking you away from doing the one thing you love the most. Helping people. I know how much you love hunting. If I stayed, I felt like I’d get you killed, especially after Sam went into the cage. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if that happened.

“Yes, I could have handled it better, but I’m here now, ready to atone for my mistakes.” Dean sinks to his knees in front of you as if he’s a servant and you’re his royal subject. “I’ll beg if I have to.” You can’t find the words for him. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable in his entire life than he is in this moment. “Sweetheart, you’re the only woman I love more than anyone. Sometimes more than Sammy. I hate that it took me this long to realize it, but I won’t stop until I put your heart back together. After all, I have all the pieces.”

The longer you stay silent, the more Dean suffers. You already know what your answer is going to be, but you make him suffer just for being an ass over the years. When he looks ready to burst into tears, you speak.

“I don’t know, Dean, it might take a while. I quite like the sight of you on your knees for me,” you smirk.

Dean walks on his knees over to you until he is pressed against you. He grabs your hips to steady himself and presses a kiss on the patch of skin above your waistband from where your shirt had ridden up.

“I can smell you,” he whispers with a smirk.

Yes, the sight of Dean on his knees makes you wet no matter what kind of conversation you’re having.

“Yeah? Do you want to taste me?”

“Sweetheart, you know you’ve always been my favorite meal.”

He lightly pushes you onto the bed so you’re lying flat on it, and he grabs the waistband of your shorts to pull down your legs. You must be fucked in the goddamn head because it doesn’t seem to matter how much time has passed, your heart will always belong to Dean.

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 fluff #dean winchester angst #supernaturalfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural angst #supernatural fluff #spn #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fluff #spn angst

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winchesterszvonecek · 3 months

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Dark Horse // Crowley

// A Supernatural Fanfic Rated 16+

Summary: Crowley knew better than to seek Nova out. She was powerful, mysterious and capable of just about anything. But when it came to hunting down Lucifer, he was clean out of options, therefore he had no choice but to ask for her help.

Read it on ao3

Status: ongoing

Chapters: 4/?

#my fic stuff #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #crowley #crowley fanfic #crowley fic #crowley fanfiction #crowleyfanfic #crowleyfic #supernaturalfic

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lovealonebyiu · 2 years

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loving the supernaturalfication of riverdale

#riverdale my beloved #riverdale

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sunndust · 11 months

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ATTENTION ALL OF MY FELLOW FILTHY DARLINGS, SMUT SLUTS, SIMPS, AND SELF SHIPPERS:

@vikingstoner69 Made it to the top of the transplant list and will be getting her new kidney any day now! So to celebrate and to give her something to keep her busy while waiting for her surgery and during recovery, I’m asking all y’all whores (you know who you are. Don’t be shy) to send her some fic requests!

So if you simp over supernatural

Feral for teen wolf

Daydreaming about sons of anarchy

Whoring over the Witcher

Or another fandom that she writes for, GO TO @vikingstoner69 and submit a request! Be sure to read her fandom list and rules before submitting! 💕

#smutsluts #fanfiction #vikingarmy #thewitcherfic #SOAfic #supernaturalfic #teenwolffic

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milfsatan · 1 year

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this reel is prompting me to say two things. one. the ratio of lucifer haters to fans is 1:1000 bc outside of the small internet microecosystems he is a hit with the girlies. literally this reel is proof of that but also the LINESSSSS at spncon are on another level. two. how the Fuck did instagram recommend this reel to me when i haven’t interacted with any spn posts on the entire app in probably 3 months bc that’s the last time i remember someone that i followed posted spnart. weird.

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heyassbutt1717 · 5 years

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Chapter 2: Imbalance | (I'll think of a title someday)

A/N: this is fun to write, idk if anyone will like it but this is my oc. Lmao.

A flap of wings and world turned around her. It was a little blurry as the room came to view. She looked around at the yellow lit hall. The room was huge and only had more corridors on every wall. Her dog sat as he trued to adjust. There were two men sitting at around the table before her. The long haired man starring at her with his eyebrows raised while the other drew his gun and pointed it at her chest. Her dog growled at the weapon. "Woah, woah, Dean put the gun down. She's with me." Castiel said, standing in front of her. Dean hesitatedly put his gun back in his jeans and looked at her, sitting back down but never dropping his guard. "I'm Amani." She pointed at the dog. "And thats Damon." Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "So we're babysitters and dogsitters now." Amani looked at him, annoyed. Sam cleared his throat in the silence. "I'm Sam Winchester and that my brother Dean." He pointed toward his brother. She smiled and put her hand on her hip. "Oh shit the Winchesters." Dean raised his eybrows. "What's with the dog?" He laughed, unintimidated. "Well think of him as my partner in crime." They looked confused and she smiled at Damon. "Well why are you here?" Sam asked. "I don't really know.." She looked at Castiel. "Our friend Jack has lost his powers and it's making it difficult for him to adjust to reality." Castiel sighed. "Well where's Jack?" Just then he walked into the room as if he was healthy. He looked at her and smiled. She felt her eyes get glossy as she seemed to black out for a moment, the same happened to him. When they both stumbled a bit, Dean stared them both down. "What the hell was that?" Dean looked more confused then concerned. "I-I don't know." Jack sputtered. "Nothing." She deadpanned and straightened her jacket. "So-" she looked at Jack again and her eyes widened in terror. She mumbled words of confusion and fear under her breath as she backed away from Jack. Her dog started growling at Dean and Jack as he moved with her. "What?" They all seemed to ask frantically. "You- you are one the biggest imbalances in the universe! A nephilim! No wait- satan's nephilim! What a clusterfuck. Why would you want him to have his powers? He'll kill us all!" Her fear seemed to bubble into anger as she drew her gun and pointed to at Jack. They called her name but it felt distant. "You know that gun won't do anything." Castiel said in a comforting voice. "He can't be alive!" She screamed, tears picking her eyes. "What are you talking about?" Dean asked. "He's an imbalance." She explained, never lowering her arm or taking her eyes of the nephilim. "Hey, put the gun down and we can talk." Sam put his hands on the gun to take it gently. A tear fell down her cheek while she still held on to the gun tightly. Her shaky hands let it fall into his hands. She took a few steps back away from all of them. All she saw was the glowing around them and the voices in her head screaming. Sam left into another room while the other three just watched her shake. Jack was concerned, not scared. That made her unreasonably angry. He didn't know what she could do. He didn't know the bullets in that gun actually could have killed him. He was naive and confident. Sam came back with cup of water which she was hesitant to drink. "You got any beer?" She deadpanned. "You're like 15." Dean said. "Yea about that... Sit down, this is gonna take awhile."

#supernaturalfanfiction #supernatural #spn #spnfamily #dean supernatural #supernatural fandom #supernaturalfics #sam and dean #sam winchester #deanwinchester #dean winchester #castiel fanfiction #castiel #castiel fanfic #jack kline #jensen and jared #ocs #oc #my ocs

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fictionalabyss · 6 years

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Winter dance.

Pairing : Teacher!Dean x Singlemom!reader. Word count : 3,539 Written for : @spnaubingo Square filled : Primary school teacher Dean. Warnings : Fluff, smut.

SPN AU & Trope Bingo Masterlist.

You stood on the sidewalk outside the school yard, waiting for your daughter to get out of school. A gust of wind blew, and you braced yourself against the cold, and gave a little shake against the shiver that ran through you.

“It's too cold!” One of the other mothers was bouncing on her feet just a few feet away.

“It's only December.” You chuckled. “It's going to get worse.”

“Don't remind me.” the other mother groaned, just as the door opened and kids started to pour out of the building.

“Mommy!!” You smiled as your daughter pushed her way through the crowd of kids and rushed down the small stairs to your side.

“Hi, princess. Did you have a good day?”

She nodded. “I thought daddy was picking me up today?”

You gave her a small smile. “He called to say he couldn't. But grandma is waiting at home for you. She's going to take you shopping.”

“For a new dress!?” her face lit up, the disappointment from moments earlier, gone.

You nodded. “I just need to ask Mr Winchester something before we go, okay?”

“Kay!” As you started up the stairs, she ran up ahead of you to join another kid on the playground.

“Mr Winchester?”

He was by the door, the collar of his leather jacket pulled up against the wind. He turned his green eyes on you, and you were almost lost in them. “What can I do for you? Did she forget something upstairs?”

You shook your head. “No. I was wondering if you needed help with the finishing touches for the dance tonight. I can be back here in about 30 minutes, and I'm supposed to chaperone anyways. I asked at the office but they told me to ask you.”

“Uhm, yeah. That'll be nice.” he nodded and smiled. “Will I have two helpers?” He looked towards the playground where your daughter was running underneath the slide to avoid getting tagged.

“Uh, no. Just me.” You have him an awkward smile. “Is that okay? My mother is taking her shopping and will be dropping her off here with her friends for the dance.”

“That's fine.” He smiled. “Pizza or burgers?” You furrowed your brow. “I was going to order out for dinner. Just wondering which you'd prefer. I couldn't decide.”

“Uhm.. either would be fine.”

“Well you're no help.” he rolled his eyes with a playful smile. When he realized most of the kids were gone and he could head back in, he motioned towards the door. “I better get started. See you in a bit.”

You nodded and watched him go in. There was still another teacher in the yard watching the last of the kids waiting for parents, so you gave her a nod before calling out to your daughter. “Alex! Come on, time to get going. Grandma isn't getting any younger.”

Your daughter laughed with her friends as she ran to grab her bag. As you both left the yard, she waved. “What did you and Mr. Winchester talk about?”

“I was just seeing if he needed help setting up for tonight. But then he told me what a rotten little kid you are.”

She got a look of shocked horror on her face which made your smile widen.”You're such a liar!” she yelled, giving you a shove making you both laugh.

Stepping into the classroom, you saw him bent over his desk and cursing. “I figured you’d be down in the gym..”

“Just trying to finish up these stupid snowflakes.” He grumbled.

“What are you trying to do?” You asked as you came up next to him. “Maybe I can help.”

He looked up, and froze at the sight of you in your dress, all ready for the dance. “Uh..” He swallowed. “They, uhm..” His eyes moved to the box you place on his desk. “They need glitter. The kids did it, but it seems to have all come off. What is that?”

“My daughter says you like pie.” You gave him a smile.

“I love pie.” He looked up to meet your eyes. “You bought me pie?”

“Actually, I made pie. Yesterday afternoon. There’s half left if you want it. It’s pecan.”

“No one makes pecan.” He all but whispered before opening the box, and sure enough, there sat half a pecan pie.

“I do.” You chuckled. “It’s Alex’s favorite.”

“Mine too.” He reached in, and broke off a piece of crust and put it in his mouth. “Mm, I’ll be eating this later.”

“And I’ll get to work on this for you.” You moved around him. He moved out of your way and you got started. “Where is everyone?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re doing this alone?” He nodded. “I expected a hoard of mothers around you at least.” He laughed at that, a laugh that shook his whole body. “I’m serious! Did you not ask anyone? Because if you had, you’d have a good forty moms in here clamoring to do your bidding.”

He laughed even harder. “You think so? Would one of them be willing to do my laundry?”

You nodded. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’ve been deemed the hot teacher. Mothers love you.”

“Oh I noticed.” He smiled, leaning on his desk as he watched you work on large snowflakes. “I got offers for help, but I turned ‘em down. I’d get more done on my own.”

“Smart man.” You teased. “If you turned them down, why say yes to me?”

He shrugged. “I hoped you’d bring something to snack on. I gotta tell ya, whenever you send cookies or cupcakes for the class, I take a few for myself.” He grinned.

“I do send enough for an army.” You smiled. “Does anything else need finishing touches, or is it just these?”

“Just those, that I saw so far.” He stood up straight again, and moved to the other side of the desk to help you with them. “Also, call me Dean, okay? If I hear Mr. Winchester during my down time, I’ll cry. Makes me feel old.”

You laughed. “Dean it is.”

You were in the gym now, and Dean was high up getting things hung. He glanced down at you. “You okay?”

“I just really don’t want you to fall.” You winced. “That is so high.”

He smiled. “Worried about me? I think I like that.”

“Hey, I’m the only person in here with you. If you get hurt, or worse, the mothers will riot and blame me.” He laughed his whole body shaking with it and you gasped. “You’re going to give me a heart attack! Get down from there!”

“Almost done, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “Just a few more and I’ll keep my two feet on the gymnasium floor. Good?” You nodded. “Relax.” He looked back up at what he was doing. “I’ll be fine.”

You stood back with a sigh and looked around. The strings of lights in some tulle were draped perfectly from the center going outwards, and the various size snowflakes hung down seemingly at random, but looked perfect with everything else. The stage was set, decorated with more lights, tulle, balloons and a sign. It was perfect.

“We did good.” He smiled, his arm around your shoulders as he admired the work.

“We did good.” You agreed.

“All we need is get the tables and that set up, and release the rest of the balloons.”

You nodded, but before you could answer, you heard his stomach. “I think we need to eat first.”

His arm left your shoulder and he rubbed at his stomach. “Yeah, I’m starved. Pizza this time and burgers next time?”

“Next time?” Your eyebrows shot up.

“Oh yeah, you’re officially on my decorating committee.” He smiled down at you. “Even if you turn into an anxious mess.”

“You pretended you were going to fall!” You shoved him, and he laughed.

You were sitting behind his desk eating a slice of pizza. Dean had pulled up one of the kids chairs and sat next to you. He licked his lips, his eyes watching you. “You’re making me very self conscious, Dean.” You mumbled behind the hand covering your mouth.

He smiled softly. “Sorry.” He turned back to the slice he had been holding, and took a bite.

You went back to eating yourself, but it wasn’t long before you felt his eyes on you again. You licked your lips, fingers going to them as you blushed softly. You turned to him, and he just stared at you for a minute. “Dean-”

He leaned forward, letting his lips brush yours softly for just a moment, and then he pulled away. You swallowed, eyes meeting his, you weren’t sure what to say or do.. He was your daughters teacher. “I’m sorry.” He got an awkward look on his face. “I just- did I read that wrong?”

“No.” You answered softly.

He smiled and leaned in for another kiss. This one had more behind it, and he was quick to deepen it. When it broke, his forehead was against yours. “Gotta admit, I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” He chuckled. “You looked so damn good on parent teacher night.”

You laughed. “You’re such a dork.”

“You done eating?” You pulled back for a second, and before you could even answer, he was clearing the pizza aside, and wiping his hands on a wet wipe. You watched how quick he moved, and then his lips were on yours again, his hand on the side of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

You rose up from the chair, and he was quick to move against you. You moaned softly as you backed against the desk. You didn't stop him when he grabbed you by the thighs and lifted them to his waist. His hands moving up them pushing your dress up as they went.

“Dean..” you breathed out softly against his lips.

He let out a groan at the sound and pressed himself against you harder, grinding himself into you slightly. “Fuck, I love how you say my name.” He mumbled as his nose brushed over your jaw and his lips went to your neck.

You giggled, the slight scruff on his face tickling. “Dean, I don't think we should be doing this.. here.. now..” You were having a hard time protesting.

“We’ve got time.” he groaned against your throat. You let out a shaky breath and closed your eyes. “But if you want me to stop, I will. I won't do anything you don't-”

“No.” you bit your bottom lip and pulled him tighter against you, if that was possible. You didn't want to do this in your daughter's 4th grade classroom, but you couldn't bring yourself to make him stop. You wanted this, wanted him. “No, don't stop. Please.”

“Good girl.” he praised and dipped a finger past your panties to tease your slit.

You groaned. “Don’t.. don't talk like that.”

“Oh, you like praise?” he smiled. “Or is it the thought of fucking the teacher?” he teased, slipping a finger past your entrance, and you arched your back in response.

“Fuck.. you're going to kill me.” you whimpered, rocking your hips to grind your pussy into his hand, his fingers hitting deep.

“What a sweet death it would be, baby.” He smirked as you nodded in agreement.

Pulling his hand away, you whined at the loss. You needed to feel him, desperate to see what he was packing under those jeans. You went at his belt with such fervor that he couldn't help but chuckle. “Guess you wanted me for a while too, huh?”

“Of course I did. Hot teacher, remember?” you mumbled, getting his jeans undone and pushing them down. “Jesus…” you breathed out as he sprang free.

“Does that mean I don't disappoint?” You looked up at him like he was crazy for thinking he would. “Don't look at me like that. I've heard what the housewives say about me. Who knows what you were thinking.” he teased.

“Shut up and fuck me, Dean.”

He laughed, but you were quick to quell it with a deep kiss. Your fingers on your right hand ran through his short hair, while your left held onto his waist.

Reaching between the two of you, he lined up and slid home. A deep groan escaped him, his forehead going against yours. “You feel so good, baby.”

You let out a small gasp, your head going back and the hand in his hair guiding him to your breast. He took a nipple into his mouth, teasing it between his teeth as he rolled his hips.

You wanted more, you wanted him to give it his all, fuck you into next week while he uttered filthy words into your ear, but you knew he couldn't. Not here. Not with staff moving around the building. “Dean..”

Dean snapped his hips, and you whined and bit down on your bottom lip. He smiled and let your nipple fall out of his mouth. “Shhh.” he chuckled. “You're gonna get us caught.”

He snapped his hips again, chucking as you tried so hard to be quiet. When your lips fell open, he captured your mouth in a kiss. You took advantage and moaned into it, letting the sound get lost in his soft, full lips.

You were lost in the moment. The feel of his lips on yours, his breath on your face, the feel of his muscles moving under your fingers. There was the movement of his hips and the sweet drag of his cock every time he pulled back, and the twinge every time he pushed forward and hit just right.

Dean was just as lost in you. Your sounds, the bounce of your breasts and the feel of you warm and wet around him.

A knock on the door started you both. “Dean?”

“Shit.” he mumbled under his breath. Looking from you to the door. “Yeah, Stew?” You bit your lip and buried your face against his shoulder, really hoping that door didn't open.

Stew, the gym teacher, spoke from the other side of the door. “Tables and everything are set up. Kids are gonna start arriving any minute. Some chaperones already showed up.”

“'Be down in a bit, just finishing up eating. I'll put some pizza in the fridge for ya.”

“Thanks man.”

You both stayed silent and listened as the footsteps receded. “That was close.” Dean chuckled. “You okay?”

You nodded, not showing your face just yet. “We should probably get down there, huh?” you sighed.

“Yeah..” he watched as you finally lifted your head from his shoulder, and when your eyes met his, he kissed you softly once more before pulling away.

The dance had gone off without a hitch. You watched your daughter have her first slow dance with a boy, while Dean did his best to avoid getting roped into dances with moms. You had smiled seeing him teaching some boys dance moves you haven't seen used in years. And when a girl was sad about the boy she liked dancing with her best friend, Dean took her out on the dance floor and he laughed as he spun her around, treating her like a princess.

Even your daughter found herself on the dance floor with him.

But now, the night was over. The gym lights on bright as a clean up crew moved around. Your daughter ran out ahead of you, and you couldn't believe she still had so much energy. You were exhausted. “MOM!!” she yelled as she stepped out the large double doors.

“What is it, sweetie?” But when you stepped out, you had your answer. It was snowing. It had started sometime during the dance. The ground now covered in a thick white blanket as more large fluffy flakes fell.

“Its beautiful!” Your daughter ran out and began spinning, her dress rising around her as she twirled in the snow.

“That is a beautiful sight.” You turned, and Dean was a few feet behind you, eyes on you as the snow fell around you. “Need a ride?” You gave him a nod. Having not expected snow and living close by, you had walked over. “Your chariot awaits.”

He held out his arm, waiting for you to loop your arm into it, but Alex beat you to it. “The older boys say you have the coolest car! Is that true?”

He laughed as he started to lead her towards the parking lot. “It is.” he gave you a wink as you joined them.

“Straight in, and get ready for bed!” you called out to Alex as she jumped out of Dean's car with your key in her hand.

“Coolest car ever, Mr. Winchester!” she called out as she unlocked the door. “Night!” she yelled, running in and shutting the door behind her.

“Good night.” he laughed as he walked you to the door.

You stopped at your door and chewed the corner of your bottom lip. “Do you.. maybe.. want to come in? Have a coffee?” you asked nervously.

He gave you a soft smile and shook his head, but frowned when his answer had you looking down defeated. “You should get some sleep. You were yawning the whole drive here.” he pointed out. You gently nodded, not moving your eyes from the snow on your shoes. “Hey.” he hooked your chin and made you look up at him. “I'm really glad you came today.”

“Me too.” your voice was barely above a whisper.

The left half of his mouth curved up into a smile. “I think the next dance is too far to wait. What do you say?” You looked at him confused. “That burger I promised you. Let me take you out to dinner sooner than April. How does tomorrow sound?”

You stared up at him searching his face for some sign that he was messing with you. All you found was sincerity. “I'd love to, but I-” you motioned to the door, but he was quick to cut you off.

“Bring Alex.” his whole mouth was turned up now. “I just want to see you again.” You gave him a nod and he beamed. “Awesome.” He leaned in and kissed you. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart. I'll pick you girls up around 5:30.”

You bit your bottom lip and blushed, fingers lightly touching your top lip, as you watched him walk back down the walkway to his car. He gave you a wave before getting in. Once he was gone, you turned and headed inside, only to be met by your daughter, waiting with a big smile on her face.

“Mommy and Mr. Winchester, sitting in a tree!” she sang. “k.i.s.s.i.n.g!”

“Get to bed, Alex.” you laughed, taking off your heels.

“If you're kissing Mr. Winchester, does that mean I get 100% on all my tests?”

“Bed, Alex!” You couldn't stop the smile or the blush as she wiggled her eyebrows before running to her room.

One year later

“I want to thank you all for coming tonight, but before we get started, you may have noticed that I'm not the teacher you met at the beginning of the year. My name is Sam Winchester and I'm filling in for a few weeks.” Sam was perched on the edge of the desk as he addressed the room of fourth graders and their parents.

“He's Mr Winchesters brother!” one of the students pointed out to his mom.

Sam chuckled. “that's right. Dean is my older brother and I'm subbing while he's on leave.”

“Is everything okay? He's not hurt or sick, is he?” Sam saw genuine concern on many faces.

“No, no. My brother is fine. He's off on his honeymoon, actually.” Sam immediately felt the mood of the room shift as murmurs began.

“did you know he was getting married?”

“I didn't even know he was seeing anyone?”

“I wonder who she is..”

*knock knock*

Sam turned to the door. “Hi uncle Sam. Ms. Jeffords said I could come and stay with you. She gave me my report card and said she'd set up a meeting with mom and Dean when they get back.”

Sam nodded then motioned to the kids playing in the corner, two of which were arguing. “Keep the kids occupied for me, and well grab something to eat on the way home, okay?”

Alex nodded and moved into the room, handing Sam her report card as she moved past.

“Now, before we get into the details of each report card, I'll go over quickly what we've been learning, and what's to come.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah sweetheart?” Dean looked down at you laying on his chest.

“I love you.”

Dean smiled. “I love you too, baby. Who would have thought an elementary school winter dance could change someone's life..”

Shifting, you pressed your lips to his. “Admit it. It was the pie.”

He laughed. “Technically, it was that damn dress.” he groaned, rolling you onto your back so he was over you.

“Yeah?” He hummed and nodded as he lazily kissed down your neck. “Good thing I packed it then, huh?”

He groaned. “Put it on.”

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Tagging : New fics- @sandlee44

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princessmisery666 · 3 years

Text

Misguided Ghosts

Summary: Soulless Sam’s reign was short and he did a lot of things Sam wishes he could take back. He made amends with everyone he could but never had the courage to face you or tell Dean exactly what happened. That is until a coincidental case finds him back at your door.

Warnings: smut from the off, slightly rough sex, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), Soulless!Sam is a bit of a dick, dom vibes, language.

W/C: 1.9k

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, fem!reader

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity.)

Notes: Set around seasons 6 and 10.

A/N: This is intended as a one-shot though I do have an explanation for the ending 😁 (you'll see). Title is a Paramore song of the same name.

Betas: @cockslut-padalecki // but I own all mistakes.

Graphics: images found on google/canva. Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Master Lists: Main // Sam Winchester

Something was off. He was too robotic, almost void of emotion and it was weird. But it was Sam fucking Winchester. The boy you’d fallen in love with all those years ago, back at Stanford. He dated your roommate, Jess, and honestly, they were perfect for each other, so you kept your feelings quiet and made the most of being his friend.

You hung out a lot as friends, spending holidays together on campus when Jess went home to her family. You suspected Sam knew you harboured feelings for him, least of all because drunk on eggnog and the Christmas spirit you’d confessed one Christmas Eve, but Sam being Sam had saved you the embarrassment and claimed he was just as drunk and didn’t remember much from that night.

Three days ago unexpectedly he’d knocked on your door, he said he’d kept tabs on you and was just passing through town and wanted to catch up. Catching up took all of two hours then you’d spent forty-eight blissful hours fucking, eating to refuel and sleeping very little. You’d played hooky at work and though Sam was reluctant to leave the bedroom you convinced him to go out to dinner on the third evening. Dinner turned to drinks, drinks turned to sex in the restaurant bathroom.

The parking lot isn’t secluded, anyone could walk by or pull into the empty spaces beside yours. The idea of being caught is thrilling and you know Sam isn’t going to stop at the fervent make out session.

His hand is up your skirt, teasing your clit and plunging in and out of you, preparing you for him.

You tear his pants open and swallow a whimper when you wrap your hand around his hard cock, wondering, not for the first time, how it all fits in. But damn it does, every delicious inch of it stretches you so perfectly it’s like a key slotting into a lock. A perfect fit; made for each other.

“Backseat?” you ask, nibbling his earlobe.

He growls, low and primal and if it were anyone other than Sam, perhaps it’d have scared you a little. “Not enough room,” he says.

He takes the smallest step back and turns you around, folding you in half over the hood of the car. It’s so sudden you brace your hands against the cold metal and just about stop yourself from headbutting it. “Fuck, Sam, careful.”

“Sorry,” though he doesn’t sound it at all. The dome of his cock prods at your entrance and he smiles when you wriggle to try to get him to slip inside. “But I need to fuck you,” Sam says, “right now.” With that, he shoves forward and hits home in one deep, hard thrust.

You lose a scream in the hitch of your breath but Sam doesn’t allow you the time to find it again before he sets the violent rhythm. Your knees knock the bumper of the car every time Sam’s hips crash into your ass, it’ll leave bruises but you don’t care. He’s relentless and somehow, it feels like punishment. Every forward motion has a sting to it but every time he drags back to the tip of almost falling out, you shove back to impale yourself on him.

“That’s it, fuck yourself on my cock,” Sam praises, but it sounds like a slur; almost like he’s disgusted with you.

You hear voices in the distance and you try to straighten up to find the source, but Sam’s large hand between your shoulder blades forces you back down with a thud. He stills, bends over to whisper in your ear. “Don’t worry baby, they can watch my dirty little slut split herself open on my big dick,” he jerks his hips, grabs a fistful of your hair and straightens up again, “Now, make us both cum, before we get caught.”

You push back and Sam shoves forward, his breath becomes laboured and you know he’s as close as you are. Any thoughts of getting caught are lost, anyone who witnessed Sam ramming into you from behind would have no choice but to watch the show.

You lose your senses, you can’t focus on anything other than the unforgiving pleasure and pain of his cock pistoning in and out of you. You scream into the night when your walls clench and your orgasm hits but Sam isn’t done. Your legs give out but he holds your hips and keeps fucking you.

“One more,” he demands and uses a hard grip on the crook of your knee to place your foot on the tyre. The position lets him sink impossibly deeper and his pace falters. Sam howls his climax into the night while you spasm around him and drip your second down your thighs.

Sam folds over you again, kissing your neck, “how can you still be single when you fuck like that?” he ponders and you feel the smile on his lips against your skin. “But lucky for me, you are.”

He slips out of you and you whimper when the cold night replaces his warmth. Before you find the energy to move Sam uses the shirt he’d removed to clean you up as best he can. “I need to shower,” you say, turning to face him.

“Later,” he agrees, dipping to kiss you, “first, I’ve got an idea.”

Dean drums the steering wheel and Sam jolts awake as if he’d been shot with a shout of your name.

“Good afternoon Princess,” Dean quips, “it’s seventy degrees, the skies are clear, the traffic is light and we have a case.”

Sam ignores him, rubbing his tired eyes and sitting up straighter.

Dean gives him a minute to sip some water and watches his hair blowback when he opens the window to let some air in.

Curiosity gets the better of him and Dean can’t keep wondering or waiting for Sam to speak up so he asks, “Whose Y/N?” Sam spits the water out of his mouth, drenching Baby’s dash. “Oh nice one, Sammy! Like my girl hasn’t been through enough! Now you’re giving her your cooties,” he admonishes, shoving some napkins into Sam’s hands to clean his mess up.

The youngest Winchester dabs at the water droplets, apologising but his mind is obviously elsewhere, the crease of his brow so deep Dean thinks he could use it to park Baby in.

“Come on dude,” Dean starts, “‘fess up, who is she? You’ve been saying her name in your sleep for weeks now.”

“An old friend,” Sam says knowing his brother will never let it go if he doesn’t give him something. “From Stanford.”

Dean waits a silent beat for Sam to elaborate but when it’s clear he’s not going to, he sighs. “Sam, talk to me, somethings going on. What is it? Are you dreaming about her?”

“Yes.”

“Premonition dreams? Or just Joe regular dreams?”

Sam scoffs, he hasn’t had premonitions since yellow eyes died, Dean knows that. He rests his elbow on the window, chewing his nail while he contemplates what, or rather how much, to tell his brother. Dean wouldn’t have asked the question lightly, not unless he was truly concerned about the dreams he’d been having meaning something important.

“Joe regular,” Sam replies quietly, “or maybe more memories than dreams.”

“Memories?”

“The last time I saw her, I was…soulless.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And what makes her so memorable? That was like what, three, four years ago?”

“I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, the wick on his thumbnail beginning to throb where he chews it. “I apologised to everyone I wronged back then, but I couldn’t bring myself to call her…she deserved more than a phone call but I never,” he sighs heavy and regretful, “I guess she’s been on my mind.”

There’s something in Sam’s tone that tells Dean he’s not ready to get into the thick of it, not right now at least. Maybe he’ll open up about it when he feels ready but pushing him now will cause an argument and Sam will shut down so Dean doesn’t press the issue.

“Well grab your laptop, college boy,” Dean says, wanting to give Sam a distraction. “Garth called while you were catching up on your beauty sleep, got us a job.”

Sam flashes a grateful smile before he reaches over the back seat and grabs his bag. “Okay, what am I looking for?”

“Tree Hill, North Carolina.”

“Real funny, Dean,” Sam’s eyes roll a full three hundred and sixty degrees, “have I been saying that in my sleep too?”

Dean shoots a quick glance at his brother, a sombre expression and Sam turns as white as a movie ghost. “No, that’s where Garth is sending us,” he looks back to the open road and hears more than sees Sam’s gulp. “Is that where she is?”

Sam whispers, “Last time I checked, yeah.”

Luckily the address Garth had given them was on the other side of town to the last address Sam had for you. It was a spirit case, as soon as he found the bones or emblem holding them to this plain, he could salt and burn and get the hell out of dodge.

“So that’s the plan?” Dean asks, disbelieving, “we just knock on the door and tell them we’re the ghostbusters?”

“Yeah,” Sam shrugs, “Garth said they called him and asked him for help with their ghost problem, they must know the life.”

“Okay,” Dean sighs, eyeing the house from the Impala’s window. “But how do they know the life? Garth said they’re a friend of a friend of a friend's cousin’s brother's uncle or something. Are we really gonna reveal ourselves to a stranger?”

“Dean,” Sam groans, puffing out an annoyed breath, “I just wanna get this done and get out of town.”

“I get it,” Dean agrees, trying to placate his brother, “but I don’t want the possibility of running into some ex-girlfriend making you reckless.”

“She’s not my ex-girlfriend, we never dated, exactly.”

Dean smiles proudly and claps Sam on the shoulder, “ol’ Sammy boy, lovin’ ‘em and leavin’ ‘em, who knew you had it in you.”

Sam shrugs his brother’s hand off his shoulder, scowling, “it wasn’t like that.” He’s heard enough and he trusts Garth so he steps out of the car, striding up the path leaving Dean to jog to catch up with him.

Sam pushes the doorbell button as Dean comes to a stop beside him and he tuts, “reckless, Sammy.”

“Shut up,” he says through his teeth and an insincere smile as the door swings open.

“Hi,” Dean says, putting on a friendly smile, “we’re the ghostbusters, and we’re ready to believe you.”

“Fuck,” Sam curses at the same time you do.

Dean looks from Sam to you and back again, throwing his hands up in the air, “Oh shit, it’s her, isn’t it?”

Sam’s eyes never leave yours, he buries his hands in the pocket of jeans, shoulders coming up around his head in that adorable awkward pose you used to love so much. “Hey, hi,” he says and blasts out a long sigh. Shock keeps you mute for a moment so Sam continues, “Y/N this is Dean my brother, Dean this is Y/N my…” Sam hesitates.

The hesitation spurs you into action, wondering if he’ll have the audacity to say it but you can see he’s not going to. So you finish the sentence for him, “his wife.”

Super Supernatural: @denimbex1986 / @avanatural / @deanwanddamons / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @flamencodiva / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @petitgateau911 / @waywardbaby / @xoxabs88xox / @cockslut-padalecki

So Get This - Sam Winchester: @supernaturalgrandma /

Tag List Info

#SamWinchester #Soulless!Sam #SoullessSam #SoullessSamSmut #smut #sam winchester #dean winchester #SPN #SupernaturalFic #SupernaturalFanfic #Fanfic #smutty smut smut

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novafics · 10 months

Text

l Tech Angel l

Castiel X Reader

Warnings: Nothing much just fluffy goodness

Summary: Late night research turns into more after teaching Cas how to use the computer.

Word Count: 408

Masterlist

---

“I will never understand you humans and knowing how to use all of this technology” it was currently late at night in the bunker, Sam and Dean had long ago gone to bed in preparation for the next days hunt, You and Castiel however decided to stay awake in order to get in as much research as you both possibly could before you all set off in the morning. It was becoming more and more clear that you were getting along much better than your winged friend was.

“You're not even on the search bar Cas” you stated trying your very hardest not to laugh at the angel’s struggles. You would have thought that angels would already know how to do everything before they got down here, them being all knowing beings and all but that has proved to be far from the truth as you watched on as Cas hap haphazardly started typing single letters on the keyboard not understanding how it wasn’t knowing what he wanted it to do.

“Here let me help”, you started getting closer to Cas scooting in next to him and leaning in a little more than necessary just to be that much closer to the angel. “This is how you use it, see?” you stated looking over at him, though due to your height difference you were more likely looking up at him even though you were both sat next to each other. As you looked over towards Cas however you saw that his focus was not on what you were showing him on the computer but instead focused on your face the entire time.

You don’t know whether it was the close proximity you both shared or the love sick face that he had as he stared into your eyes but in this moment you were so thankful of your decision to sit just that bit closer.

You both sat there in a comfortable silence staring at one another as Cas closed the gap between the two of you and kissed you with such intensity it quite literally took your breath away. “Who needs to understand technology when I have the smartest person in the world?” That statement was far from the truth, you weren't the smartest but to Cas he fully meant it and just knowing that fact made you feel so loved and appreciated that you fell more in love with the angel, if that was even possible.

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chucksfavouriteprophet · 2 years

Text

The Intrusion - Chapter 11

Back to The Intrusion masterlist

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In preparation for the Demon invasion, you and Dean team up. But as you flirt your way around, you loose sight of where you are and end up stumbling into some very personal, and painful, memories.

Note: Y/S/N = your sister's name, Y/M/N = your mother's name

Word count: 2,135

Warnings: language, hurt/angst, talk of both murder and death by natural causes, childhood trauma, sickness, panic attacks, general upset and emotion, visiting graves, comfort, fluff

10 minutes later, you were roaming around the excessive woods lining the bunker, armed with spray paint infused with salt and portable devils traps. Dean showed you what to draw, and you started marking trees and clearings with the patterns, while Dean whipped out his tools to fix the traps that had been weathered over time. You chatted away, finally able to let your guard down, laughing at each other's jokes and flirting freely. Any worry that your chemistry from the night before and earlier in the shower would disappear once you got back into the real world now seemed irrelevant. Sure, Sam and the Angel weren't around, but Dean hadn't seemed to totally ignore you like you'd expected when you'd been in the kitchen. And now, he was just as playful. You chased each other, running from tickling hands, giggling like a child.

In fact, you were having so much fun that you'd completely forgotten to pay attention to where you were heading, and before you knew it you were faced with a circular clearing, the grass immaculately cut, just one large oak tree looming in the middle.

"...but I don't get why salt! I mean, love the shit, I put it on all my food, so what is it that freaks Demons out so-" You stopped mid-sentence, coming to an abrupt stop. The area was silent, the only sound the wind whistling through the leaves and the slight creek from the DIY swing that hung from the oak's thickest branch. Your heart fell to your stomach and your feet sunk into the ground. All of a sudden it was as if you'd run into a brick wall and the shock had swept you off your feet.

"YN?" Dean jogged behind you to catch up, still mindlessly fixing traps. "Woah, thats a cool tree. I've never been out this far." He grinned looking up at the tree, before turning to you and pausing.

"Y/N? Hey, you alright? Y/N?" He panicked slightly at your ashen face, frozen with eyes wide. Dropping his things, he stood straight before you, hands on your shoulders, shaking them lightly. "Hey, Y/N! You hear me?" He was panicking, not sure what had come over you all of a sudden, but not liking the way you trembled and the colour had drained from your face.

You nodded numbly. Of course you were here. You were probably heading in this direction subconsciously, but was too busy flirting with Dean to pay any attention. But you'd been here a million times before. How had that even happened?

Shrugging his hands off, you dragged your feet forwards, ignoring their heaviness. You slowed as you reached the swing, brushing your fingertips over the wooden seat. You still remembered sanding it down, crafting it to be exactly the right size. You gripped the rope, remembering the various weights you'd tested on the end of it to make sure it would hold. Now, when nothing else was left, the swing was all that remained.

Only vaguely aware of Dean behind you, you turned to the tree itself. Reaching up, you smiled weakly at the carvings dented into the bark.

Y/N and Y/S/N 4EVER

"Y/N. What is this place?" You weren't even sure if Dean was asking or demanding. You turned to him, tears spilling down your cheeks. He was wide eyed and confused, but you couldn't do anything to reassure him.

"Big Tree." You breathed out. "Our favourite place."

You turned away, continuing round to the back of the tree. You heaved a sigh of relief to see the sunflowers you planted last week still holding strong. They stood out against the wooden pallets, poorly constructed but at least showing the care had been there.

"Our? You mean...you and your sister?" Dean was hesitant as he approached you, careful not to spook or shock you. All of a sudden, the wild, confident woman he'd grown to love had shrunk away, leaving a fragile, timid girl. You nodded from in front of him, which he took as permission to approach further. Standing next to you, he read the makeshift headstones.

"Y/M/N Y/L/N.

Mom, you were amazing. Thank you for everything you did for us. We hope you're with Daddy now. We love you so much."

He gulped, knowing your mom had died, but not knowing it had been here at the bunker. As he glanced to his right, his hand slipped into yours, tightening both for your sake and his.

"Y/S/N Y/L/N.

The most beautiful, kind, caring girl there ever was. I'll miss you baby sister. I'm sorry."

"Oh baby," Dean didn't quite know what to say, nor what had made him use the nickname at that moment in time. He felt you shaking beside him, opting to brave it and pull you in close out of worry you might collapse, engulfing you in his arms.

It was just what you needed, and you closed your eyes as you took in a deep whiff of his musky scent. "I don't know how I forgot...I know they're here...I come here all the time...how did I not realise..." you panted, sobbing into Dean as he guided his hands up to cup your face. Your eyes were blurry and you couldn't catch your breath as the tears refused to let up.

"Shhh, Y/N, its okay. Take a breath for me. C'mon, you need to take a breath...there you go. Thats a good girl."

He moved your hand to rest over his heart, encouraging you to use his rhythm to guide your breathing and calm yourself. The last thing he wanted was for you to pass out.

"I'm sorry Dean," you mumbled once you had regained control over yourself.

"No, none of that. You have nothing to be sorry about. If anything I'm sorry for leading us up here."

You shook your head, nuzzling into him. "You weren't to know. I should've been paying attention, I should've realised exactly where we were heading. I feel awful for letting it sneak up on me."

Dean stroked your hair softly, swaying slightly as you still calmed down. You stood like that in silence for god knows how long, but eventually you were all cried out.

"I come up here every week, just to talk to them. Before you and Sam moved in, every day. I spent most of my time here, really." You spoke timidly, trembling under his strong embrace.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Y/N," Dean reassured you, but you shook your head, easing yourself from his grip so you were just holding hands.

"No, I want to. I've told them about you, so it's only fair." You took a step forward, guiding Dean with you, before crouching in front of your mother's grave.

"Mom died pretty soon after we got to the bunker. Our old place had been raided, and Dad died trying to buy us some time. But Mom, she got shot as we escaped. Managed to keep it together to get us here, but it was pretty bad. I was just a kid at the time, and I didn't realise...I think she just wanted us to be safe before she could let herself go. Me and Y/S/N walked for hours until we found this spot. It just seemed like the perfect place to bury her. I think she'd have liked the view." You kissed your fingertips, gently placing them on the wooden headstone.

"I agree. It is beautiful," Dean was trying not to get choked up himself. He took your arm as you stood up on wobbly legs, pausing before moving to the other grave. You smiled brightly at this one, leaning down to rearrange the flowers.

"After that, me and Y/S/N came up here all the time. We would talk to Mom, tell her about how we were doing as two kids trying to survive...then it became our happy place. We climbed the tree, and I eventually made the swing for Y/S/N. I'd play with her for hours here. It actually felt like we were proper kids, ya know?

"I didn't want to bury her here at first. I thought Mom would be mad, or at least disappointed, that I hadn't done my one job. That I hadn't kept my little sister safe. But I didn't know where else to put her so..."

Dean wrapped his arms around you, hugging you close. Resting his chin on your head, he desperately held back his tears so not to upset you further. Clearly this was more you'd opened up to anyone, and the last thing he wanted to do was spook you even more.

"I think when I first met you, Dean, one reason I was mad was because you had Sam. I saw so much of us in you two, except you'd succeeded. You'd kept your baby brother alive. I'd failed, and that pissed me off. I hated you because every day you reminded me of what I'd done wrong."

"Whatever happened Y/N, I'm sure it wasn't your fault. You were just a kid too, I know you would have done your best." Dean comforted you.

"It was just a cold. A stupid cold, I mean, she got them all the time. It was winter, and you know what that bunkers like...the ventilation is shit and the heating is even worse...I was fed up at her for moaning all the time and sneezing and coughing. I stormed off, went to find a bar that would serve me without ID...when I got back it was too late. The pneumonia had eaten away at her and she'd suffocated on her own mucus. All I could think about was how scared she must have been in her last moments, and I wasn't there. I wasn't fucking there, Dean. My baby sister, my twelve year old sister, died on her own because I couldn't maintain my temper."

"Shhhh, its okay, its okay. It's not your fault, Y/N. I promise you, its not your fault." Dean rocked you back and forth, trying to get you to calm down before you approached another panic attack.

"I should've taken her to a doctors or something. Or at least taken her seriously. She knew it wasn't just a cold, it had gone on way to long, but I didn't listen to her."

Dean spun you round, staring you dead in the eyes.

"Y/N, this was not your fault. You left your home, without any parents, thrown into this crazy place with a kid to look after. You did your best, your mom would know that, and so would your sister. No one would blame you, okay."

"You don't know that', you mumbled tearily.

"You're right, I don't, not for sure. But I know who does, and thats Cas. He's an Angel, remember. He has direct access to Heaven. If you want, I'm sure he can provide you with plenty of evidence to prove you did your best."

You wiped the tears on the back of your hand. "Yeah...maybe...I don't know Dean..."

"Its alright, you don't have to know. Hell, I don't know everything, especially when it comes to Sam. I haven't always been able to protect him, you know. I've done some real stupid stuff in the past, and because of it he's got hurt, or worse. So I ain't no saint either."

You mumbled something incoherently, nuzzling into Dean's armpit once more.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I doubt you want your one-night-stand crying to you over her sad little life."

Dean chuckled. "Don't be stupid. I'm glad you told me, Y/N. I want to be there for you, no matter what. And if you think that was a one-night-stand, then thats fine, if thats what you want. But its not what I want - I just needed the alcohol for courage. But I understand if its not what-"

He was interrupted as you reached up and kissed him. "Sorry," you mumbled as you pulled away, embarrassed at the grand gesture. "I think my emotions are a bit up-in-the-air at the moment."

He smiled back at you, grasping your face in his hands and bringing it back up to kiss again. "Never, ever apologise, Y/N. C'mon, I think Sam and Cas can finish up the sigils. Lets go put our feet up, watch a movie, get take out or something, yeah?"

You sniffled a smile. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Letting him wrap his arm around yours, you blew one last kiss goodbye at what remained of your mom and sister, before heading back towards the bunker with the hunter you'd fallen head over heels in love with.

| Chapter 12 |

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jockpoetry · 3 years

Text

Dean’s Canon Divergent 42nd Birthday.

(on ao3)

The bunker was still, Sam and Eileen were...somewhere, and currently they didn’t have any visitors. No guests, no wayward hunters, or any friends stopping by to catch their breath. Not even family. It was, for once, just Dean, his broken leg, and a case of beer that was mostly empties now.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me,” the words weren’t slurred, even though he felt the weight and warmth of alcohol resting heavy on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d acknowledged his own birthday, but in the solitude of the bunker it felt right to at least say the words aloud.

The hovered above him as he contemplated beer four - five, maybe - and wondered if it was time to hit the harder stuff. An uncomfortable lump had begun to form somewhere above his heart. He pushed out of the chair, half-drunk off the now warm beers Dean heaved himself upward and swayed on his feet for a beat. The main room of the bunk swum before his eyes before he shut them, steadying himself.

He felt stale, sore, and exhausted. Which meant that it was definitely time to switch to something harder. The path to his room was familiar and before he knew it tired hands pulled drawers open until the glass of an unfinished bottle of bourbon he’d opened the other night was welcome against his palm.

Not bothering to find a glass he took the bottle to his bed, the cap flicked off to the side with a quiet clatter. The cool of the liquor was crystalline after a haze of lukewarm beers. One hand holding the bottle steady he adjusted his pillow behind him and settled down, eyes staring unseeingly straight ahead.

This was kind of pathetic, even for him, wasn’t it? Getting drunk, alone, on your birthday. Another small pull of the bourbon quieted those thoughts, even if it didn’t fully dull the ache of too many questions he never let himself ponder. The bunker was too quiet, though, and Dean wasn’t sure even if he put music on and cranked it as loud as it could go it would drum out the thunder in his head.

How old was he?

Did he count the years in hell, or not? Does he count the one in purgatory? How about the hundred days he lived and died - were those a part of this life? He ran his free, rough hewn, hand - was this even his original hand - over his face. His breath in soft tatters. Birthdays in the past had been busy, world’s were ending, people were dying, but now here he was. Still. Everything was...okay. It was, there was no crisis at hand. Just busywork, clean up jobs, every day tasks that called people away.

Hell he wasn’t even sure if Sam and Eileen were even on a hunt, maybe they’d just taken a weekend away to breathe. It had to be nice, having someone to breathe with. Having a life with someone.

All Dean had was a life unworthy of any fanfare. Unworthy of a text from Jack or Sam or....

The lump was back this time decidedly higher, threatened to cut off his air and made the backs of his eyes burn.

More bourbon, definitely...definitely more bourbon.

But even the bright burn of warming liquor didn’t stop the way the room was beginning to melt. Or the warm trails that had begun to fall down his face. Was it even his face? He’d only been born to be a fucking meatsuit for an angel. Fucking angels, fucking destiny and fate and -

The sob that ripped out of him breaks the silence, and for a long time there is only unsteady, heaving, gasping breaths. They fill up the room, and go on for long enough that the bourbon is on his bedside table and both hands are holding his face. It is his, no matter who’s inhabited it, how many times it has died, this is his. He is his.

He only belongs to himself.

He’s always belonged to himself, an island of one. Everyone always leaves, Sam included. Hell Sam’s got a life of his own, and is happy. He’s got the hunter network running as nicely as Baby’s engine. And Dean?

Dean’s got a splotchy face long after his tears slow to a stop. He’s in the midst of taking a shuddering, wet breath, when off in the distance there’s the sound of a door shutting.

Every muscle in his body tenses, his hand half reached under his pillow for the gun stashed there, before he can rationalize to his foggy brain it’s just some hunter, probably. He listens, ears straining, as distantly familiar footsteps draw nearer. The tears have dried on his face, the skin stiff and uncomfortable, but he barely dares to breathe let alone move.

A shadow pauses before his door, as it stealing itself, before the sound of a doorknob and

“Oh,” Cas’ face slowly comes into focus.

Cas’ face...Dean stands too quickly and mostly falls off of his bed. He catches himself with one arm, staring wide-eyed as Cas comes closer. As Cas’ warm, familiar, hands rest on his shoulder. As Cas’ impossibly blue eyes look over his face with concern. “Dean,” and that’s definitely Cas’ voice. Deep and rough like tires over gravel and Dean can feel the threat of tears returning as he shakes his head.

Because it can’t be Cas.

“You’re dead,” the words take far too much effort to form. The not-Cas-Cas’ face crumples, softens, looks at him in that makes the tears come out harder. “Christ I need to stop drinking,” he pulls shaking hands to press into his eyes, willing whatever drunken vision away. But the warm weight of a second hand comes to cup his face, and the sound of fabric crinkling and knees resting on concrete are enough to tell him the not-Cas-Cas isn’t going away anywhere soon.

The soft motion of a thumb across his cheek is enough to ease some of the tension away, and maybe he can just pretend. No one else is around, he can be allowed this? A drunken dream, too good to be true, and lets his head rest heavier on the palm there. His hands falling from his eyes to rest between his legs.

“You could’ve had me,” the words are so quiet, “I wish you would’ve.” How many times has he admitted these words in his dreams? In prayers that went unanswered? “Too fucking chicken shit to ever do anything, too afraid I’d fuck it up,” the words spill out of him faster and faster. “One good thing, the one good thing this life gave to me was you, but I know me, I fuck everything up. I don’t know how to keep people, only how to push ‘em away and I couldn’t....”

Couldn’t lose Cas like that, in a permanent way, but he did anyways. In the end silence wasn’t salvation, it was just as damning as any words could’ve been.

“Dean,” and that’s enough to draw his eyes back open. And there’s Cas, as he should be, weary, wary, with that softest trace of hope. “I-I knew,” but the words halt and he can see the way the muscles in this vision of Cas clench. The way blue eyes shift around for a moment, searching for the right words to say. In his dream Cas would surge forward and cover him in kisses. Sloppy and sappy and feeling like everything he’d wanted.

This Cas seems uncertain, “I could feel the way you felt, but you’re so-so complex. I didn’t wish to assume, didn’t want to...hope.” Each words feels like it’s been pulled, painfully, from some deep place. “Dean, please,” and the hand on his cheek tilting his face upwards. “Look at me,” blue eyes pleading as much as the words.

Taking in a steadying breath Dean does, and all he sees is Cas. The open longing and desperation on his face. “Jack,” the words drift over Dean like warm waves, “brought me back from the empty. I wasn’t right, but your prayers...they helped. Jack, Mary, Charlie even they helped me. I would have come back sooner, but -”

Whatever further words Cas might’ve said were muffled as Dean surged forward, arms wrapping around the familiar expanse of the angels back. Hands soothed down his back, a face pressing into his hair, and surely there are words being spoken but Dean can’t hear them. All he can hear is the thud of two pulses, their bodies melded together as close as they can be. A warmth, completely unrelated to the alcohol, surges through his body.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Cas’ voice finally breaks through, “I used my grace to sober you. I wanted you to see this wasn’t,” but again words are interrupted. This time by a suddenly, blisteringly, sober Dean leaning and pressing his lips against Cas’ stupid, eternally, chapped ones.

The sag of relief brings Cas somehow closer to him, and they sit there, Cas knelt between Dean’s knees, kissing until they’re out of breath. Until Cas leans back to press his forehead against Dean’s, both of their breathing uneven and eyes shut. Dean lets his hands slowly drag down from shoulder blade to hips and shifts to rest his head upon one of Cas’ shoulders.

The hand that begins to comb through his hair, soothing away any doubt, any fear. “They kept telling me I could go back when I was ready,” the words break the silence, but Dean doesn’t move and neither does Cas. The only motion is the hand through his hair, “and I never knew.... I didn’t know how to tell when I was ready, but then I remembered.” The hand in his hair pulls slightly, just enough to shift Dean back so Cas can look him full in his face again.

“January 24th, 1979,” the smile on Cas’ face is sun-bright and warms Dean right to his core. “I was given a gift I didn’t fully understand that day, and I figured it would only be fair if...if I returned the gesture.” Cas’ lips are warm against his forehead, lingering for a beat too long before pulling away again. “Happy birthday, Dean, I hope this is the first of many you’ll let me celebrate with you.”

Dean answers the only way he can, by pressing another kiss against Cas’ lips, and pulling him closer.

#spnfic #destielfic #destiel fic #supernaturalfic #destiel #spn #my writing #i decided to finish this ficlet from last month too.#posting this does mean though that i officially need to get over myself and post ch2 to guiding light. next...next weekend let's aim for tha #*that.#long post

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