#the way dean talks about them he's pieced it together. he hears that dean is living in a bunker with a male angel he's known for a decade

[quietwingsinthesky]

i can tie this into that one 'lucifer being rewritten' au actually. because the logical follow-up in that au from lucifer managing to get himself free of chuck rewriting his whole personality to be Worse in every way, is for Sam and Dean to manage to break free as well (with luci helping <3 obviously) but for them, it's more complicated. Lucifer was a complete rewrite, a slate wiped clean and a new story put in its place. Getting back to himself is just hitting the undo button. For them, no one can tell where they end and Chuck's tampering begins. I think that'd be interesting for Dean especially to deal with, you know?

Thinking to himself "here is what I did to my brother while God had control of my actions, but what did I do that I would have done anyway? who did I hurt that I would have wanted to hurt without being pushed to? will I ever know the difference between the damage Chuck caused and the damage I caused? how do I fix it? can I?"

#there's a scene in my head that may never get written. but its. its dean & lucifer #and its late at night in the bunker (sam & dean haven't decided if they want to move out yet. it was god's favorite dollhouse. #it was also their home. or was it? they can't tell. there are good memories there. there are also horrors around every corner.) #but anyway lucifer and dean are sitting across from each other at the table not talking to each other. they aren't really comfortable aroun #each other. sam and lucifer are in the way that pieces of a puzzle fit together. dean and lucifer do not fit. #they both care about sam. they have both hurt sam. not all of it under their own power. this allows them to tolerate each other. #a mutual understanding of being made a weapon against someone you love. #and in the scene. what they start talking about is hell. and torture. #and they're the only two people who can talk to each other about these things. #its hard for dean to hear. of course it is. lucifer tortured sam. but lucifer listens to dean about hell. he has to return the favor. #and they both grapple with like. they enjoyed it. did they enjoy it because they are monsters? or because they had no other choice? #because they were broken and manipulated into it? was there ever any escape? and they're going to realize there wasn't eventually #i think they have a lot of nights like that. #spn #dean winchester #lucifer spn

[pentacentric]

I probably think way too much about how very little Sam knew about Mary. How John and Dean gave him almost nothing, to the point that she wasn't even really like a ghost shadowing his life, more like the story of one overheard in bits and pieces over the years. And yet, his whole life from when he can first remember—every bit of motivation or guilt, every point of pride or shame—is built around his mother, this person he isn't allowed to know.

I've written a lot of bits and pieces about it before, but never a standalone. This is actually an excerpt from a longer story, but I modified it some and I think it works on its own, hopefully (he knows about hunting already but that's really the only canon difference).

..........................

When Sam's in fourth grade, and has to write a page about his favorite memory, he asks for Dean's help. All he can seem to dredge up at the moment is just too weird or too farfetched. Things that say far too much about the way they live for a teacher to read.

So he asks Dean what he would write about.

After some teasing about his best memories being of all the times Sam's embarrassed himself (and a well-aimed pink rubber eraser hitting him between the eyes) Dean quiets down and turns thoughtful.

"Well, I dunno what my most favorite memory would be, really. I guess…" He bites his lip, chews on it for a second, gaze directed absently into the distance. "I think it would prob'ly be my first memories? It musta been, like, when I was three and four maybe. They're…of Mom."

"Oh." Sam's chest gets a little tight. He speaks quietly, cautiously. Dean—Dean and Dad both—they don't talk about her much. Sam's seen her picture, the one that Dad keeps in his journal, a few times, but he knows so little about her. Just that she was pretty (beautiful), with a smile that reminds of him of Dean's and wavy blonde hair. "What was she—what are they like?"

Dean smiles, maybe a little sad, but it's more than that. Warm, wistful; gaze still unfocused and distant. "Mostly…happy. Like…bright. She'd sing to me a lot, and, like, I didn't know the songs back then, but, when I hear 'em now, I can hear her voice singing them. Beatles, Beach Boys, Simon and Garfunkel, um…Peter, Paul, and Mary, maybe…" Dean chuffs out a laugh. "I remember Puff the Magic Dragon, at least…I think I even remember Dad teasin' her about how she better sing me some real music, too, not just sissy crap, but, I dunno, maybe I made that up."

Dean pauses, that bittersweet expression on his face, still, and Sam doesn't want him to get lost in it. He also doesn't want to miss this opportunity, if he can help it.

"I dunno. He'd say somethin' like that." Dean spares him half a smile, still somewhere else in his head. "What…what else do you remember? What'd you guys do together?"

"Well, not a whole lot. I guess mostly just the normal stuff you do with a little kid. Like legos, I remember we'd build castles an' fortresses and stuff. I wanted her to build me a car but we didn't have enough black bricks, so she made me a little boat instead. Dad said it looked like a bathtub." He smiles. "Um, she'd dance with me, sometimes. To the radio. Make lunch—I mostly remember sandwiches and Mac n' Cheese. I'd sit in that little seat in the cart when she went to the grocery store, and she'd ask me what was on the list and I'd pretend I could read it and make up dumb stuff."

The silence is longer this time. Sam breathes out, carefully. "What kinda stuff?"

"I dunno. Just silly things, like 'elephant steaks!' Or 'a unicorn!' Or 'poop n' rhubarb pie!'"

"Gross." Sam wrinkles his nose.

Dean grins at that. "I think you're, like, the only kid ever who never found poop and fart jokes funny."

"'Cause they're not."

When Dean laughs, muttering little weirdo, Sam looks around for something harmless to throw at him, pouts.

"Don't worry, Sammy, if anyone wonders why you're so weird I'll just tell them it's 'cause you still poop your pants, and you're kinda sensitive about it an' all."

"Dean."

Sam decides that his pencil is perfectly fine to throw after all and, as a concession, doesn't aim it at his head. Dean grins, not seeming too annoyed by the assault, so Sam decides to push his luck.

"Did Mom think it was funny? Your lists?"

Dean's melancholy little smile is back. "Yeah…yeah, I think she did. She'd always laugh, anyways. An' she had the best laugh. I'd make up stuff that just got more and more ridiculous just so I could keep watchin' her laugh." He sighs, shrugs. "Anyways, yeah…that's Mom. That's what I remember."

It gets quiet after that, and Sam can see Dean's face starting to shutter over as he withdraws. It's rare for Sam to get to see his brother so open and unguarded any more. Over the last few years, Dean's started to change; Sam can tell. Still fun, still charming, still affectionate, at least with Sam (mostly when there's no one else around to catch him being so uncool). But, even though they're not always alike—Dean doesn't usually brood, rarely explodes, and he never gets that kind of burning cold John does when he's focused on something—sometimes now he kinda reminds Sam of Dad. He's been more closed off, the way Dad can be, his deeper emotions pushed farther away, out of Sam's reach. Doesn't show when things get to him, like he used to.

It's actually kind of lonely, sometimes.

"So, what are you gonna write about, Sammy?"

When Sam shrugs, Dean suggests the time they ran out of gas on a back road in central Florida. They'd only walked two miles before an Oscar Myer Wienermobile came barreling down the road, seemingly out of nowhere, and gave them a lift to and from the closest gas station (still a good eight miles away). Sam counters with the night in Montana that Dad got so drunk he started fighting with the motel owner about yetis (Dad coming down hard on the side of 'hoax'). They ended up getting kicked out at two am after Dad had cut down the guy’s “Bigfoot Crossing” sign with an axe. They toss back and forth increasingly ridiculous ideas until they're both laughing so hard they're in literal tears. When John comes back, they can't even stop long enough to answer what's so funny. Dad just smiles, bemused and fond, and shakes his head before heading off to shower.

Sam thinks maybe he can add this afternoon to his Good Memories pile.

In the end, he waits until that evening, before bed, and easily fills up a page-and-a-half about the time, last summer, when Dad was on a hunt out west and he and Dean had spent all afternoon exploring tidal pools in Yaquina Head, Oregon, marveling at the tiny little aquatic worlds they found. He invents an older teenage cousin that tagged along so the teacher won't question why two young kids spent the day alone in a national park.

He gets an A.

From then on, Sam keeps his eyes out in thrift stores for cassettes from the bands Dean mentioned; pockets them when he can to listen to later on the beat-up Walkman knock-off Dean stole for him for his sixth birthday. He likes a lot of it, but he's careful about what he keeps; only his favorites. He stashes them in the bottom of his school bag, in the hollowed-out book that Bobby showed him how to make last year, on a rainy day when Sam got bored with watching old Westerns.

For some reason, he doesn't want Dean to know about them. Doesn't want him to feel like Sam's trying to take something away from him. So he slips them in when he's sitting in the back of the Impala alone, on long trips, and closes his eyes. Lets the albums pour into his ears over the headphones; shuts the rest of the world out. Sgt Pepper's. Pet Sounds. Bookends. He tries to imagine his mom, Mary, singing the songs to him, in a sunny kitchen.

But he can never really pull together a complete image of her; just bits and pieces, blurred-together impressions: yellow hair, the smiling face from the picture (looking kind of flat, like a mask), a flowered dress he'd seen in a shop window. And he doesn't know what her voice sounded like, so it kind of just ends up being a composite of the voices of some of his favorite teachers (along with the mother of a classmate back in Indiana who drove him home once when she spotted him waiting for the rain to stop under the playground slide).

So he gives up on trying to picture her, and, instead, just tries to sink into the music, sees if he can feel what she was feeling when she listened to it. Imagines the conversations they might have: which songs would be her favorites, why she would have liked them, where she was the first time she heard them playing.

When he hears those songs on the radio now, or over the speakers in a restaurant, it makes him feel kind of happy and sad at the same time.

They remind him of her.

(Except for America—for some reason, that one makes him think of Dean.)

#spn fic #sam winchester #dean winchester #weechesters #mary winchester #john winchester #sam's lonliness #motherless sam #supernatural fanfic #my fic

[deanwritings]

The Guest House - Chapter 5

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 2,478

A/N: I'm back!! It's been a doozy of a few weeks; lots of grad school homework, illnesses, my brother's wedding. And to top it off had a nice little health scare.

But I've been craving getting back to this story. This chapter is a little shorter but keeps the story moving! Hope you enjoy

“So what exactly did you do before you quit?” Dean asks casually as you head back to the house. 

“Data marketing.” Dean turns towards you with a raised brow. “I look at how and what people spend their money on and make recommendations for how to sell products.” It was the easiest way to explain your job. You’ve tried a few times over the years, and you almost always left people confused, including your mother, who even after seven years still didn’t understand what you did on a daily basis. 

“I’ll take your word for it.” He smirks. “Do you enjoy what you do?” You smile as the town passes outside the windshield.

“I do.” You hum. “For me it’s like a puzzle.” Your hands get animated. “You have all these pieces of information and you have to put them together to figure out how to best market a product. It’s fun. It’s like being a detective except no one dies.” This gets a hearty laugh out of Dean as you come to a stop light.

“A detective?” Dean chuckles with a wide grin as the light turns green. 

“What can I say, I love a good mystery and I have a weak stomach.” You shrug. It was true. You loved a good murder mystery but if you were watching a movie, it was usually through your fingers. Even clearly fake blood churns your stomach. 

Dean pouts out his lower lip as he rolls his head side to side, considering your response.

“Fair enough.” He concedes. 

“What about you?” You ask in return. “You’ve been a mechanic since you were sixteen?” You recall him mentioning it earlier. He nods. 

“I started part-time in high school to make some extra cash. I was saving up for an old car that I wanted to buy and figured taking a mechanic job would be a good place to learn how to fix it up once I got it.”

You look around the cab of the pickup; it doesn’t look like what you would consider a “classic” car, just a regular truck, probably a decade or so old if you had you guess. Dean catches your wandering eye. 

“This is not the car.” He scoffs, almost offended you would think that. “This is my work car. My baby is at a special garage where she’s protected from sun damage, dust, anything else that could damage her.” He begins listing off concerns on each finger on his hand that’s not currently on the steering wheel. 

“Your baby?” You gape at the mention of the presumed pet name. “I’m confused, are we still talking about a car?” His carefree laughter fills the truck.

“Yes, she’s a car, but I built her from the ground up. She’s the most important thing to me.” He speaks with admiration, and your brows fold in at the center, listening to disbelief as the man next to you speaks about a car like a normal person would a child, or a spouse. Definitely not a car.  

“Has Lisa tried renting her on Hertz yet?” You laugh along with him, but you only hear the sound of your voice echoing through the cab. You glance towards him, his smile gone.

���Shit, Dean, I’m sorry.” You sputter, throwing your hands out towards him. “I shouldn’t have said that.” You quickly backpedal, your words almost tripping over each other as you realize what you’ve said.

What a dumb thing to say. You’re literally making fun of his divorce. Smooth, Y/N. If Dean weren’t sitting next to you, you would give yourself a rightful smack to the forehead. 

“No, no, it’s okay.” He tries to assure you, but the lightness in his voice is gone. A silence settles over the truck as you squeeze your eyes shut and turn towards your window. AKA away from Dean. 

Shit. Why the hell did I say that? You mentally berate yourself again. Just as the two of you were finally getting to a good spot. 

“It was a good joke.” Dean chimes in. “Seriously, relax.” You open your eyes and peek over your shoulder to find Dean glancing between you and the road, his lips slightly turned upwards.

“Truly, it’s fine.” You huff out a deep breath. You don’t totally believe him, but at least he wasn’t holding it against you. 

“I swear I didn’t mean it like that.” Your voice drips with sincerity, your body flashing hot with embarrassment. Dean just purses his lips.

“Can I ask you something?” His tone is serious. Oh god. You just look at him and he glances from the road to you. “Are you going to be super awkward now?” 

You huff out a laugh, your heart still pounding hard in your chest as the tightness starts to dissipate. Dean chuckles next to you as the tension is left behind you like the town in the rearview mirror.

Ten minutes later, you’re back at the house, the hood of your car propped open as Dean leans inside, working on removing the corroded battery as you watch a few steps behind him, keeping your distance so as to not hover. 

“You seem to be up early today?” He shoots you a glace over his shoulder as he pops the battery out of its place. He straightens up, giving his lower back a stretch before leaning his prominent figure down and placing the ruined battery on the ground and grabbing the fresh one next to it. 

That was true. The last week or so you had been sleeping in. Especially since you weren’t getting rudely awakened by Dean anymore. But, of course the morning you had plans, this morning, your car decided to crap out. 

“I was actually planning to hike Mount Carmel.” You had been researching some of the local hiking trails around, wanting to get out into nature and get in a workout, and Mount Carmel seemed easy enough that you didn’t have to worry about an injury since you’d be going alone. And a lot of the trail reviews mentioned that the area was safe for solo hiking. You weren’t trying to become a cold case on your vacation. 

“Figured it could be a nice way to start the morning.” You shrug as Dean’s gaze catches yours as he reaches into his toolbox for something.

“Maybe do some meditating once I got to the top. But like everything else with this trip, nothing has gone according to plan.” You take a deep breath and your hands slap against your thighs. 

“Meditating?” His whole face scrunches as he rests the new car battery on the edge of the car as he turns to face you. 

“Yes, meditating.” You challenge back. “It’s good for you.” He raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Isn’t meditating just breathing?” He asks with a slight shake of his head, like he’s trying to work it out for himself.

“Technically yes, but it’s about focusing on your body. Quieting your mind and honing in on the world around you.” Dean rolls his eyes with a scoff and he turns back towards the car.

“You sound like Lisa. She was into yoga and all the crap.” His voice is partially obscured as he leans in towards the engine. 

You fold your lips in, wondering if you should say what just popped into your mind. 

Fuck it. You seemed to be getting along. And it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve a few jabs after the nonsense he had pulled with you the first half of your vacation. 

“It’s really good for anger, you know.” Dean shoots you a look over his shoulder, and you bite down a smirk at his gaze. 

Well god damn if the sun wasn’t hitting him just right as he stared you down. Not to mention the view you were getting as he leaned over the car. 

You had to wonder exactly what went wrong in their marriage for Lisa to leave a man this good-looking. It’s not like people didn’t marry just for looks alone sometimes. But obviously there were some deep-seeded issues considering how bitter their divorce seemed to be, 

“I’m not angry,” He huffs, his bottom lip pouting out. 

“Suurrreee,” You breathe out under your breath as you cross your arms and lean against a nearby tree as he continues to work.

A few minutes later, Dean wipes his hands on his jeans and shuts the hood of your car.

“All set.” He turns towards you with a grin, and you can’t help but match it as you push off the tree and straighten up.

“So how much do I owe you?” You rock back on your heels, your hands resting on your lower back. You were hoping it wasn’t going to be crazy expensive. You really knew nothing when it came to cars, just that you were always left with a nice dent in your credit card bill whenever you had to take it into a shop.

“It’s on the house.” He smiles at you easily. 

“Dean.” Your shoulders drop at his offer. “C’mon, you don’t need to do that.” You start to argue, then a sour thought hits you and you frown. 

“Are you just doing this because you feel bad that I don’t have a job?” Pity. That’s why he was helping you. And that's why you didn't want to tell him about your situation in the first place.

Dean’s smile doesn’t falter as he shakes his head.

“No this is not because I feel bad for you. Consider this my gesture of a fresh start.” He holds his hand out to you, and you can’t stop as your cheeks dimple with your smile as you take it. 

His cool fingers wrap around yours and you tighten your grip on him, not wanting to think you were some fragile little girl who didn’t know how to shake a hand. He just raises his eyebrows before you drop your hold. 

“Pleasure doing business with ya.” You want to wink at him like he did you at the shop, but like you said, no one in real life besides Dean apparently, can actually pull off a wink, so instead you just continue to smile bright.

Dean wants to laugh when you grip his hand extra tight, like you’re trying to prove something, but he just returns your smile instead. 

“By the way,” he starts as he drops your hand, leaning against your bumper as he crosses his arms and ankles. His brows furrow as your tongue briefly peeks out onto your lips, and his own mouth pops open, before he realizes he was in the middle of a sentence. “This time of year Mount Carmel is probably pretty icy. Temps have been below freezing since the month started. If you’re going to hike, you should probably go with someone.”

You roll your eyes with a huff and cross your arms.

“Yeah me and all my friends can go.” You scoff with raised eyebrows. Dean just returns the gesture as he rolls his own eyes. 

“Are you sure you didn’t get fired for being a smart ass?” He shoots back, and your mouth drops open. 

“Huh.” You nod, your tongue pressed against your inner cheek giving you a weird lump that Dean grimaces at.

“Guess I deserve that for the Lisa joke earlier.” You conceded. Dean just gives you a nod to the side, but peppered with a smile, so you know, no hard feelings.

“Guess you did.” Dean smirks as he pushes off the car. 

“By the way, there’s some local hiking groups, maybe you can give them a look to see if they’re doing anything. But if you’re still hellbent on taking a hike, I’m off Thursday, and I’ve hiked it a few times if you still can’t find anyone.” 

The words fall out of his mouth before he even realizes what he was saying. 

What the fuck. 

He had not intended to offer to be your hiking buddy. Hell, he hadn’t hiked those trails since the early years of his marriage, back when he would do anything to make Lisa happy, even if he thought it was stupid. Who wanted to waste their day going for an hours-long walk? Apparently you and his soon-to-be ex wife. 

Your eyebrows raise.

“Seriously?” You ask with skepticism. He doesn’t blame you. 

No going back now.

“Uh, yeah if you want. I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything.” He gives a laugh, but cringes internally. 

Who the fuck says that? Really, what the fuck was he doing. 

You narrow your eyes.

“Sounds like something a serial killer would say.” Your face is serious, but your eyes give you away. A laugh escapes before he can stop it. He definitely wasn’t wrong about you being a smartass. And he likes that he can seemingly read you, whether you mean to show your emotions or not. He wasn’t sure. Yet. 

“Fair enough.” He claps his hands together. “But I gotta be gettin’ back to the shop.” He points his thumb over his shoulder, like his motley crew were waiting behind him. “Someone’s gotta keep those boys in line.

You laugh with raised eyebrows. For some reason, it feels more like you’re laughing at him, and not with him. He feels heat rush up his neck. 

Truly. What the fuck is wrong with me right now. 

“Uhh, but if you have any more car issues, feel free to give me a call. Like you know, I’m right down the street.” He starts to turn, but your voice stops him.

“And how am I supposed to call you if I don’t have your number?” He turns back to you, happy to see you still smiling. Something about it warms the cool morning.

“Right.” He reaches into his back pocket and whips out his phone. “What’s your number?” He pops open a blank text message. When you don’t respond, he looks up. Your smile has turned cheeky, and you look like you have something smart on the tip of your tongue. He decides to beat you to it.

“If you give me a fake number, I kinda know where you live.” He gives you a pointed look before your whole body shakes with the most carefree laugh he’s heard so far. 

“Once more, sounds like something a serial killer would say.” You continue through your giggles. 

“Just give me the damn number.” He huffs and you relent, giving him your number as he types it into the phone.

Dean Winchester. Is all the message says when he sends it, and a moment later you pull your own phone from your pocket, holding up the notification to him triumphantly. 

“I’ll see ya later.” He gives you a low wave before he hops into his truck and heads back to the auto shop for the day.

Keep Reading

NEXT TIME:

“I can’t believe you consider this fun,” he huffs behind you, watching every step he takes. 

“No one forced you to come.” You remind him with an easy breath. Not that you’re trying to taunt him while he seemed to be struggling as he staggered behind you, but it was just another reminder that he truly seemed to hate hiking. 

“You know you could walk on a flat road. I mean, really, what the hells the difference? There’s plenty of trees on the road by my place.”

[Grumpy Dean is back ^-^]

Forever Tag List

@iprobablyshipit91  @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly @roseblue373 @k-slla @stephv213 @kaydallas21

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean x y/n #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfic #the guest house

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 7) - Ten Years After Dean Came Back

Summary: Dean and Y/N attend a session of couples' counselling with Dr. Garth Fitzgerald. They struggle with Y/N's infertility and make a final decision about the future of their family together.

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Word Count: 2,668 

Warnings: age gap (reader is 32, Dean is 37), infertility, couples' therapy, adoption, relationship angst, mentions of physical abuse by a parent, language, angst, fluff 

A/N: After many rewrites and some creative differences with the characters in this series, we’ve come to the last part. 

_____ 

Ten years after Dean came back. 

"And how does that make you feel, Y/N?" The skinny man asked from his chair placed next to the couch. 

He wore a tweed suit and you thought he looked more like a college professor than a couples' therapist. He had a notebook in his hands and jotted down notes every time either of you spoke. 

"I don't know, not good." You shrugged. 

"Mhm," he jotted down more notes, "I see." 

It was your first appointment and Dean had yet to speak up for any of the questions. He told you there was no point in going since he still loved you and you still loved him. He made it sound so simple, but it was more complicated than that. And he knew you needed to talk it through, so here he was supporting you and holding your hand; you couldn't ask for more. 

"And, Dean, how do you feel about it?" Mr. Fitzgerald asked. 

Dean scrubbed his free hand over his mouth and chin as he side eyed you. Mr. Fitzgerald, or Garth as he told you to call him, hadn't directed any questions towards Dean until now. Dean didn't seem too happy about it, but refused to let that show in the way he looked at you. All you saw was love. 

"I'm okay with it," Dean said, still looking at you. 

"How can you be okay with it?" You asked, scrunching your forehead. 

"Because I love you, this doesn't change anything between us." He said with a shake of his head. "It doesn't change the way I feel about you or the fact that I still want to spend the rest of my life with you. I need you here with me. I can't do any of it without you."

"Yes, you can." You said. 

"I don't want to." 

Garth stayed silent while he listened and jotted down notes. He was a nice guy but hadn't said anything helpful yet. Maybe couples therapy was about opening the conversation more than actual advice or guidance. Maybe he just worked as a buffer and had you guys find your own way through. 

"Everything's different now, Dean." 

"No."

"You're the one that had our future planned out; two kids, one boy, one girl, a white picket fence, a big yard, and a dog. You even hung a tire swing and started building a treehouse, for fuck's sake." Your chin started to tremble and you took a breath. "Dean, you want kids and I want you to have them but it's not going to happen with me. I'm broken, my body's broken." 

After four years of trying to get pregnant and the endless testing and trials, you were spent. Your body was spent and you couldn't remember the last time sex felt like it was supposed to. It felt clinical now like you were running through a maze for a piece of cheese. You tried almost everything, there were calendars and ovulation sticks, hormone injections, temperature readings, wedge pillows, and you were sick of it all. 

You couldn't imagine it felt any different for Dean either. Your sex life was present but unaccounted for. 

"I love you." Said Dean. 

He wiped your cheeks dry from the tears streaming down them and kissed your forehead. It didn't matter how many times you'd snapped at him over the past four years with your hormones in overdrive, you couldn't push him away if you tried. And you had tried. 

That was one reason why you wanted to go to therapy, you wanted to come to terms with your infertility and let it go. You wanted to stop the hormone treatments and stop feeling the way you were. You wanted to feel like yourself again. 

"Y/N, did you hear what Dean just said?" Garth asked when he saw you had calmed down. Dean clutched your hand in his and gave it a squeeze. You shook your head. "He said, he loves you, do you believe that?" 

"Yes," you knew he did. 

That was something you never had to worry about with Dean. He let you know in more ways than one and you never questioned it. Hell, he supported you through the trials for this long because he knew it was what you wanted. He saw the toll it took on you and wanted to stop a long time ago, but you weren't ready to make your peace with it, with your body. Until now, you hoped. 

"So then why are you pushing him away?" Garth asked, resting his pen on his notebook and giving you his full attention. "Do you think that's what he wants? That it'll make him happy to find someone else who can bear his children?" 

"Maybe," you shrugged and refused to meet Dean's hurt stare. 

Dean shook his head. "Y/N, I love you." He whispered, he had been saying that a lot lately. Like he knew it wasn't sinking in. 

"And, Dean, when you tell Y/N that you love her, is that what you mean? Or are you trying to tell her something else that you can't find the words to say?" Garth asked and Dean cleared his throat and nodded. "What are you trying to tell her?" 

Dean thought for a long moment, "The future I planned for us, I don't want that with anyone else." 

"But we won't have it either," you said. 

"I've made my peace with that and we're here so you can too." He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. His green eyes pleading with you like he still tried to convince you of everything he felt and hadn't been able to communicate. 

"It's not fair, I wanted a family too. I never thought I would this badly, but I do. With you, I do." You sniffled, "It's not fair. The one thing I'm supposed to be able to do and I can't." 

"We still can." 

"How? I can't get pregnant, Dean, and I can't keep taking those hormones. My mood swings are all over the map with them and it's not working."

"We stop trying." 

"What?" You frowned, "I don't understand, how can we have a family if I can't get pregnant? We can't afford a surrogate, Dean." 

"Making a baby doesn't make you its parent, Y/N, trust me I know. My father might've played a very short hand in creating me but he was never a dad, he was never there for me, he never cared, he never loved me or Sammy." 

"Speaking of unfair, how can a man like that make two kids and I can't even begin to form one? Ugh!" You sighed exasperatedly and fell back against the couch feeling defeated. 

Dean smiled at your little tantrum and you wondered how he was able to do that. Find levity in the difficult parts of life. But that was his motto, something like: if you don't laugh, you cry. And for a moment, you saw him with a younger face, a bruised eye and a split lip. Smiling at you under the streetlamp with ice cream on his nose. That was almost seventeen years ago now. 

You were finally voicing your disappointment at the cards you had been dealt and that was a step at healing. You tried for so long to be strong and composed but Dean always saw right through it. He hated seeing you hurt, but it was hard to come to terms with the fact that your body could never do what you wanted it to, it was less hard for him; even if the struggle was the same. 

You had to live in your mind and listen to the little voice that called you broken. Dean just had to watch. Although, now that you thought about it, watching someone in pain could be just as painful. Especially when they refused your help and pushed you away. 

You silently promised him you would never do that again. 

"I love you, Dean." You squeezed his hand. 

You were endlessly thankful to have him around to pull you out of your funk. You tried to smile back at him as you sat up. 

"Can I interject here," Garth smiled, "I think Dean's talking about adoption. Sometimes a family you choose has stronger bonds than ones you make. You run that youth group, right, Y/N? So you of all people should know that there are many children out there that wish they could have parents that want them as badly as you and Dean want a child. At least look into it, if that's something you'd be willing to do." 

"Do you want to adopt?" You asked Dean, he'd never mentioned it before. 

"I looked into it after we found out conceiving would be difficult and again after your last round of hormone therapy. I kind of put our names on this list because it can take a long time to be selected." He confessed and quickly added, "I wanted us to have options and I'm completely fine with not having kids either. We could just be the cool Aunt and Uncle to Sammy and Jess' twins. I'd be alright with that as long as you're the one I'm growing old with. I want you in that rocking chair beside me on the porch and I'll tear down that white picket fence when we get home." 

“No, don’t do that... maybe we could paint it though.” You shrugged. 

"I like the way you think, sweetheart." Dean chuckled with a little smirk. 

Garth looked at the clock on the wall and clapped his hands together, "Well, I think that was an excellent session and I've got a bit of homework for you. Y/N, I think it would be healthy for you to look into adoption with Dean, exhaust all of your options together before you commit to a decision about your future. And, Dean, I want you to try talking about how you’re feeling to Y/N rather than just declaring your undying love for her." You laughed and Dean blushed, "I think she gets it, but she's not a mind reader. Everyone benefits from open communication and all I'm asking is that you try, you don't even have to be good at it, just put words together until you get a sentence and keep doing that. The best relationships I see are the ones where each partner refuses to give up on the other. It's about equal give and take and allowing each other to be happy and loved." 

"So, on a scale of one to ten. How did we do, Doc?" Dean asked and it was Garth's turn to laugh. 

"I can't answer that, but I will say that you guys have a great foundation. We just want to open the lines of communication as a safety net for when times are a little tougher to see through the fog. When your love is hidden behind the walls you use to protect yourselves. You don't need to protect yourselves from each other; I can see that as much as you both can feel it." Garth said, buttoning his tweed jacket as he stood up. "We all need a little help sometimes and that's why you're here, you can't be expected to get through this without it. Whether I be the one to help you both, or you turn to friends, or family, it doesn't matter as long as you find your way back to each other in the end. Never forget that you are going through this together and the best thing you can do is communicate that. Sometimes one partner may feel like they're hurting more or they are more to blame and that's not true, we need to communicate to know." 

"I got it, Doc, next session you want me to talk more." Dean quipped as he stood up with you and added, "I gotta know, what the hell is that?" He pointed to the sock puppet on Garth's desk in the corner. It had yarn for hair, blue button eyes and red lips. 

"That is Mr. Frizzles," Garth laughed with a hand on his stomach, "Sometimes couples bring their kids to the session and the kids respond better to him than me. He insists it's his sense of humour but I think it's his uncanny ability to sense when someone is being a liar." Dean just stared at him and Garth laughed again, "I'm kidding, Dean." 

"I like him," Dean said as you walked to the car together. "That's something I never thought I'd say." 

Dean opened your door, "Me, too." You said, sliding into your seat. When Dean joined you in the Impala moments later you added, "So, you'd be open to going to another session?" 

"I'm open to anything you want, sweetheart. We're in this together." Dean revved up Baby and headed towards home. 

"Dean, I don't want you to keep things from me anymore." Dean side eyed you with a curious look, "The adoption thing... If that's something you're interested in, I want to be included. Maybe it's the right direction for us. I just don't want you to ever feel like you have to hide things from me, especially things you want." 

"I wasn't hiding it, I was always planning on telling you about it but, I dunno, the longer I waited the more awkward it was to bring it up." Dean said and you grabbed his hand from the seat next to you. You gave his fingers a squeeze and he smiled. "The people I consider my family -aside from Sammy- that's you, Bobby and Jody, Cas and Benny, you're all people I found; people I choose to keep around through thick and thin. And I love you all, some more than others," he gave you a flirty wink and smirked, "But my point is when it comes to kids, biological or adopted, I don’t care as long as they’re ours. Family wouldn’t mean the same thing to me without you... So please stop pushing me away.” 

You nodded and vowed, “I promise,” then leaned over to peck a kiss on his cheek, his stubble prickling your lips. “Maybe we can go over what you learned on adoption tomorrow?” 

“Of course, Y/N, I’d love to.” He beamed and planted a kiss to the back of your hand. 

“You’re all kinds of awesome, you know that?” You squeezed his fingers again until he squeezed back. 

“Whatever happened to ‘strange and kinda wonderful’?” He teased and chuckled with you. 

“I love you... my strange and kinda wonderful man.” 

“I love you more, don’t forget that.” Dean smirked and bit his lip like he always used to when you were younger. 

You glared at him a moment as he grinned sideways at you. He knew you hated it when he said things like that. Your love for him was just as strong, arguably stronger according to you. 

“Pfft, hardly.” You declared with an eye roll. “Exactly what makes you think that you love me more? I was willing to see you with another woman just so you could have a chance at happiness and you wouldn’t even consider it.” 

“Isn’t that proof right there?” He laughed at you. 

“But it would make me happy to see you happy so-” 

Dean stopped laughing and cut you off, “I’m happy with you and only you.” He glanced over at you a couple times before he asked, “Are you still happy with me?” 

“You know I am.” 

“Good, then I’m yours and your mine and our future will be what we make of it.” He slid his rough fingers between yours and cleared his throat. “You tamed my heart a long time ago, it would be cruel to throw me back into the wild now. Got it?” 

You smiled, feeling whole for the first time in a while, “You’re right. I think I’ll keep you after all.” 

Dean chuckled. 

Whatever happened next you were in it together. 

_________________________

This series is complete.

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers @vicmc624 @ladysparkles78 @deans-spinster-witch

#au!dean winchester x reader #au!dean x reader #au!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester x #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean x #spn series #spn fanfic #supernatural #dean series #wild hearts series

[beansandsprouts]

Sweet Confessions

Dean Winchester x gn reader

Summary: After you nearly die during a hunt, Dean finally realizes exactly what he feels for you.

Warnings: descriptions of physical injury, mentions of blood

You'd been fading in and out of consciousness, catching bits and pieces of conversation. You couldn't really process anything, but you did very clearly remember seeing Dean sitting in a chair by your bed, head in his hands, shoulders shaking, whispering something you couldn't make out.

You'd dreamed while you were out. Dreamed about your old memories. Memories of hunts, memories with the boys, memories from before you became a hunter, it was like you were reliving your life.

Your eyes cracked open, the light making you wince. You were in your room, in your bed. You groaned and sat up, hissing in pain.

You lifted your shirt to see your abdomen wrapped in bandages. You kind of remembered what happened. You remembered going into the werewolf packs hideout. You remember fighting them. You remembered the pain when one of them tore your stomach open. You remembered seeing the blood seep through your t-shirt, and subsequently falling to the floor. And you remembered hearing Dean shout your name before losing consciousness.

Your room was empty, and the bunker was quiet. You swung your feet off the side of the bed and carefully stood up, legs shaking a bit. Slowly, you made your way out to the main room.

The boys were talking about a possible hunt out in Maine when you wandered into the library. Cas noticed you first.

"What are you doing out of bed?" He asked gruffly, standing quickly.

Dean and Sam whipped their heads around to see you leaning against a bookcase. You could see the flash of relief on their faces to see you conscious before the panic of realizing where you were set in.

"What the hell y/n?" Dean rushed over to you, his hands coming to hold you as you leaned against him instead of the bookcase.

"No one was around." You mumbled.

"So call for us, you shouldnt be out of bed."

Suddenly your legs gave out from underneath you, thankfully Dean caught you quickly.

"This is exactly why you should be in bed." He scolded as his arms came underneath you to lift you in a princess carry.

"I'll take her back to her room, you guys figure out the hunt." He called behind him.

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

"Mm sorry."

He glanced down at you, feeling his heart skip seeing your head resting against his chest.

He gently set you down in bed, setting the blankets over your legs. He raised his hand to brush against your cheek.

You looked at him in shock of the gentleness he was showing. He was never rough with you per say, but he was never exceptionally gentle.

"Are you ok?" You asked. There was a look on his face that you could quite place.

He seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in, "Yeah yeah I'm fine. I should be asking you that." He chuckled.

"I'm fine, just tired. And hungry." You smiled sheepishly.

"Let me get ya something then."

Later that day Sam, Cas, and Jack left for the hunt in Maine. Leaving you and Dean alone together.

Dean was attentive, bringing you food and water, bringing his laptop and books into your room to sit with you, insisting on helping you to the bathroom though you were sure you could do it yourself. Every once in awhile you would catch him staring at you with this indiscernible look on his face.

On the third day, just after you'd both had lunch, he cleared his throat.

"You uh, you scared us you know."

"I know, I'm sorry." You murmured.

"It's ok, it's not your fault. I just..." he trailed off.

"What?"

"I guess it was kind of a wake up call," he chuckled, "It kind of opened my eyes to some things."

"What do you mean?" You asked, starting to grow nervous. What if he felt like you were slowing them down? You were less experienced than they were, maybe they wouldn't let you hunt anymore.

"I um. Well. Fuck this is hard to say," He covered his face with his hands, "I'm not the feelings type. You know that. But almost losing you...well it made me realize that..."

"That...?" You prompted.

"That...I...like you..."

"Gee Dean, thanks. I would hope so after nearly a year of hunting together." You said sarcastically.

"No that's not-I mean yes but-fuck why is this so hard?"

"Take your time."

"Can it princess." He glared at you.

You giggled. Princess had been a sarcastic nickname from when you first met, you two had butted heads at first, but now the term was more affectionate.

"What I'm trying to say is I like you a lot more than I thought I did."

"So you're telling me that, what, we're like good friends?"

"No! No. Fucking hell. I want to like...be with you." He groaned.

Your eyes widened, "Be with me?"

"Yes. I want to like, do that stupid soft stuff. I want to hold your hand and go on dates and fucking buy you flowers and..."

You had started to grin while he was babbling, "And...?"

"And...I want to kiss you." He clenched his jaw, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He was avoiding your gaze.

"Listen," he continued, "You don't feel the same. I get it. I'm not the most emotionally available. Nothing has to change-"

"Dean you're an idiot."

He lifted his eyes to meet yours, "Huh?"

"Come here and kiss me you big ol' dumbass." You grinned.

His face lit up and he grinned as he got up from his chair to lean down and take your face into his hands, he looked at you for a moment, taking in the way you looked up at him expectantly before leaning down to brush his lips against yours.

"Kiss me like you mean it." You mumbled before reaching up to fist your hands in his shirt and pull him closer.

And so he did, he kissed you. He kissed you like he'd been waiting to do it his entire life, cradling your face in his hands.

He pulled back to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours.

"Wow."

"That good huh?" You grinned cheekily.

"That good." He confirmed, his voice low, a wide smile on his face.

"You liiiiiike meee." You teased.

"I do. And it's your problem now princess, because you let me kiss you and now I'm never gonna stop."

He leaned down to kiss you again, still smiling as he did.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #supernatural #fluff

[aesthetic-babyyy]

I was wondering if you could write something where Dean is getting married and in the bride’s family, the couple write each other 3 separate letters to each other since they can’t see each other. One for when they wake up the morning of the wedding, another one for when they are getting ready, & the 3rd for right before they begin to walk down the aisle and see each other for the first time that day. They don’t have be all fluff but things that make them love each other.

REQUESTED

The Tradition~ AU DEAN WINCHESTER IMAGINE

warnings// none, pure fluff

Word count// 2228

(Gif from Pinterest)

Dean and you have been planning this wedding for almost a year and you couldn't wait a day longer to be married to this man, good thing you didn't have to considering it was the morning of your wedding, smiling as you jumped out of bed you ran to the guest room to wake your bridesmaids "Charlie, Jess wake up, I'm getting married today!" You said banging on the door,  it wasn't long till both girls were stumbling out of the room rubbing their eyes "okay so first we have hair then make up..." you said going of on the list you had in your head preparing for the big day

"Y/N, dean gave me this last night he wants you to read it, he gave me two more but I can't give you them yet" Jess said handing you a white envelope with your name written in messy cursive "oh the letter, he remembered" you said starting to tear up "are you okay do you want to sit down a minute" Charlie said concerned as she and Jess lead you to the couch" you wiped your eyes

"yeah I'm fine, it's just so sweet he remembered to do this, I'm my family we have a tradition to give our future spouses letters before the wedding because we won't be together, it's like a piece of each other is there" you said fiddling with the letter, Charlie took notice of this "oh that sounds beautiful, how about Jess and I give you some privacy to read the letter" Charlie said taking Jess's arm and leading her to the kitchen. Taking a deep breath you opened the envelope pulling out the price of paper

"Hey sweetheart, if your reading this it's the morning of our wedding, I can't wait to see you walking down that isle, to see your beautiful face and finally be able to call you my wife. Y/N the day I met you I knew you were the women I wanted to be with for the rest of my life, I never believed in souls mates I thought it was a bunch of crap, that changed with you, I don't think there's a person alive that could match me the way you do, it's like the universe made you just for me. I love you baby, and I can't wait to marry you"

Love Dean

By the end of the letter you were crying your eyes out, how could this man be more perfect. You tucked the letter away safely then joined the girls in the kitchen getting a small breakfast, both Charlie and Jess smiled at you as you munched on your toast "well what did it say?"  you started giggling "it was the most beautiful love letter I've ever read and I'm so excited to read the others, I'm dying to know how he liked mine I spent days writing them" Jess perked up "want me to ask Sam? I can get some intel out of him just give me 5 minutes" you stopped her quickly "as much as I'd love to know I kinda want to hear it from Dean like a raw reaction" the girls both nodded their own hearts fluttering at the romance

Finally, it was time for hair and make up, you were able to get deans second letter, though your not sure how he can top the second one "please give me the letter now" Jess laughed as went through her purse to make sure she pulled out the right one "thank you" you said in a singing tone, sitting in the hair chair you tore the envelope  opened as you read the letter

Hey gorgeous, I guess your getting ready if your reading this, I'm not gonna go into too many chick flick moments in this one because Jess and Charlie would kick my ass if I made you cry getting your make up done. How about we talk about how we first meet, because that goes hand in hand with the best day of my life... well until you say I do, I was coming to visit Sammy for the weekend and he introduced me to Jess his girlfriend, you were her roommate who I found to be sexiest women I've ever seen, at first you turned me down... I don't blame you my pick up lines sucked, however I won you over on that double date, I'm beyond grateful Sam and Jess got you to agree to that, otherwise I wouldn't be here, writing a letter to the women of my dreams on our wedding day. I love you Y/N  Y/L/N, I can't wait till you're Y/N Winchester

Love your fiancé

"Oh god he did it again" you sobbed as Charlie handed you tissues "thank god I choose to do hair first" Charlie and Jess both laughed as they skimmed the letter "oh my god that's the sweetest thing ever!" Jess said tearing up "oh I am so making Sam write me a love letter" you giggled "you totally should, it's the best tradition my family has, the ones my dad wrote for my mom is tucked away in their wedding album, I grew up reading them knowing that's what I wanted, and Dean has surpassed my wildest imagination" you finally stopped crying by the time you'd finished your speech "I can't wait to read the next letter" you said as your hair was finally done, you moved on to get your make up done finally one step closer to the ceremony.

Finally you were outside the church it was almost time to see your husband, you were in your dress, a beautiful princess gown with a sweetheart neckline, Charlie and Jess were stood with you i their matching red bridesmaid dresses "you ready for the last letter" Charlie asked nodding "I swear he better not make me cry" Jess chuckled grabbing the last letter from her purse "okay you ready" nodding you took the letter gently opening it, both girls at either side of you peering down at the letter.

"Hey sweetheart, I bet your outside right now, we're gonna be seeing each other real soon again, I've been dreaming about this moment since you said yes, picturing thousands of different scenarios of you walking down that  aisle, one even included you coming in on a horse, but I was sleep deprived when I pictured that one. I know the second I see you it's gonna be impossible to hold my self together, we'll finally be husband and wife after today and maybe in the future we'll have little minis running around, and we can tell them our story, and they can carry this tradition with their own partners on their wedding days. Only a matter of time till I see you now, I'll even tell you which scenario was right, maybe I was right about the horse after all, guess I'll find out soon, I love you Y/N and I can't wait to spend the rest of our lives together,

Love your soon to be husband

"Son of a bitch he's good" Charlie said dabbing her eyes "I know, I swear if Sam doesn't write me a letter like that I'll dump him" Jess jokes wiping her own eyes "I think it's time" you said when the bell started to chime "you ready for this?" Jess asked as you walked up to the entrance "I've never felt more ready for anything in my life.

————————————————————————

Finally you were Mrs Y/N Winchester, walking down the aisle hand I hand as your fries and family cheered, Dean walked you over to the impala only letting go to open the passenger door for you to get in, soon you both were driving towards Jody's house for the small reception, looking at your husband you smiled "so we're you disappointed I didn't come charging down on a horse?" You jokes making dean laugh “well it would have made quite the scene, but you in that dress made my heart skip a beat” Dean grabbed your hand as he continued to drive down the country road.

Dean and you spent the night side by side socialising with all your family and friends, finally when it came times to the speeches your were sat next too dean with a glass of champagne, Sam was stood before you both as he spoke

“Dean was the best big brother growing up, our mom passed when we were kids and our dad was always working so it was mostly just us, Dean supported me the whole way through school then in college he came to visit basically every weekend, one of those times he met Y/N we we’re in Jess’s apartment so I could introduce him to my girlfriend, however Dean was much more interested in Jess’s roommate, he asked her out within ten minutes of knowing her… she said no, he asked again the next day, Y/N wasn’t interested but my brother is a determined man and I knew from the look in his eye this was different, he really liked her so I decided to help him out a little and Jess and I got Y/N to agree to a double date, we went to see a scary movie and by the end of the night they ditched us to go get a drink, since that night dean started to visit much more and I got to know my brother that but more and grow closer to him, and I watched as he fell in love with Y/N, and I seen how much she loved my brother too, I’m so happy to welcome you to our family Y/N and I wish a lifetime of happiness for you both, let’s all cheer for Mr and Mrs Winchester” Sam finished as he raised his glass in the air to you both, everyone erupted into cheers as they clapped.

Dean and you finished the night with a slow dance, your arms hung loosely around his neck as your head resting on his chest, his hands on your waist as he swayed you back and forth to the music, “you know the letter tradition in your family’s really something special” you smiled looking up to his green orbs “you made me cry every time I read yours, Jess and Charlie too” you giggled, Dean smiles and chuckled “well normally i wouldn’t admit this in a million years but yours got to me too, Sam had a field day with it too, before we leave for our honeymoon ask him for the video” Dean said trying to act annoyed

“Your kidding!” You said laughing to which dean shook his head “unfortunately not let’s go grab him and he can show you himself” Dean said leading you towards the younger Winchester “Sammy c’mere” Dean called

Sam walked over a beer in his hand “hey what’s up, you guys leaving for Vegas already?” He questioned “yeah in a couple minutes we’re gonna say bye to everyone but Y/N wants to see your new form of blackmail” Sam immediately perked up, his smile widening, he quickly pulled his phone out, pressing play to the video

The video showed dean sat on body’s worn down couch my letter in his hands, he was smiling as a tear tan down his cheek “are you crying dean?” Sam exclaimed, deans head sprung up at the noise “of course I’m not, do I look like a chick to you” Dean said defensively “oh you definitely were, what did it say?” Sam questioned “none of your business!” Dean said trying to walk away “oh come on dean I’m your brother” Sam tried to pull the brother string, that usually made Dean cave, “it’s personal Sammy, Y/N wrote it to me” Dean said glancing at the letter “like the ones you had me give Jess?” Dean nodded then the video cut off

“Oh that is so sweet Dean” you smiled up at him tears threatening to spill over “yeah I thought you might have enjoyed that” Dean said as he ran his hand up and down you back, you turned to Sam “send that to me please” Dean rolled his eyes as Sam sent you video

“Hey lovebirds you ready for your honeymoon?” Gabriel asked his arm wrapped around his girlfriend Rowena “yeah we’re about to head off now just saying bye to Sammy” Dean smiled “we’ll you guys enjoy vegas, maybe get to work on making some babies” Gabriel joked and Rowena rolled her eyes “there’s so much time for having children, take time to yourselves first and foremost” Rowena said grabbing your hand i her hers “thanks Rowena that means a lot” you told her pulling her into a hug, Dean turned to Gabriel “doesn’t mean we won’t have fun trying” sending both men into hysterics.

After saying your goodbyes to everyone Dean and you were once again in baby heading down the highway on the road to city of sins “you ready for the rest our lives gorgeous” Dean turned to ask “I was born ready handsome” you said leaning into his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he drove to sound of AC/DC playing in the background, the day couldn’t have been more perfect.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester angst #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester smut #sam x reader #sam winchester #castiel x reader fluff #castiel x reader smut #castiel x reader #castiel #angst #smut #fluff #supernatural smut #supernatural angst #supernatural fluff #supernatural #spn #spn fluff #spn smut #spn angst #bobby singer #charlie bradbury #chevy impala #jody mills

[nescaveckwriter]

Paintbrushes And Romance 🥰🐞 - Part 7

Dean x Reader

Part 7 🥰🐞

A/N: Can someone hand me a box of tissues please 🥹🥰🐞 Also side note, please comment down below and let me know what you think, if you wanna of course🥰🐞

Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Sexual Content, Heartbreak, Kidnapping, Trigger Warnings🙈

.....

Seeing him, listening to the sound of his voice, broke you, I thought I was stronger that this. He is ordering his usual, black coffee. Acting like his presence doesn't bother you, you go on typing away, not that a single damn word is making sense, the tears, threatening to spill over, and give away, "your strong woman" act.

You can feel his eyes burning on you, while he steals a quick glance, you don't want to meet his eyes, so you'll just pretend to be busy, even though the only thing your busy with, is trying not to break down and cry in front of everyone.

I can't, I can't do this shit, you say underneath your breath, you quickly pack everything up, put a few dollars down for the coffee, you notice, you didn't even touch the piece of chocolate mousse cake, Julie gave you! Eversince that day, you haven't had much of an appetite, not even for dessert.

Just waving, while running out the shop, unsure to where you want to go, honestly unsure of what to do with yourself, with your life without him , hell! tell me how did I turn into this person, to the woman who needs a man, not just any man but Dean Winchester! Tears streaming freely now, I've never in my life felt sadness that cuts this deep, leaving my damn heart in a thousand shreds. I should hate him, but oh how I love him.

.....

Showing up at your mom's house, she barely opened the door, when you knocked, you grab ahold of her in a heartbreaking way, sobs into her arms, mom tell me, please how do I let this pain go away, how do I forget about him, how do I move on when my heart is so torn apart, when all I want to do is run into his arms, searching for the comfort I always found there, tell me mom!, you say, tears making your mom's, brightly flowered shirt wet.

Oh honey, taking her fingers, trying to rub the tears away, only time will tell, my sweet girl. Mom, I don't want time to tell, I just want time to be turned back, back to when he loved me, when I was enough to make him happy, I just want him mom, with me, holding me, is that to much to ask for, your voice breaking now, is it mom?, I am not a bad person am I? Can't I just be really happy for once? Don't I deserve it mom?

Oh bug, you are breaking my heart, seeing you like this, I wish I could just bandage your heart together, make everything better, but I can't, not this time, but I'll tell you what, sweetie, let me make us some of that chamomile tea you like so much, then we can just sit and talk, or cry, or be in total silence, just what you need honey. Forming a little smile on your lips, that sounds nice thanks mom, we can talk, but not about this , anything else will do.

Sweet, soft smile coming from your moms lips, okay honey, did you hear about Mrs, Anderson, throwing lemonade, at Mrs Morgan, for stealing some of her flowers....

...

The two of you, spend the afternoon just talking about, light-hearted, topics, and also of course the surprise birthday party for the weekend for your dearest brother, oh how deeply you love him, the two of you are really close, but he is always away on business trips, so you kind of lost touch, but this weekend is all about catching up.

....

Giving your mom, one big heartfelt hug, I'll see you and daddy tonight, for dinner, you say while starting to walk towards the street, where you get into the cab, giving them your address, you need to freshen up for the free art classes you give for the kids at the church, you also need to try and cover up your swollen eyes. Your not much for makeup, you prefer just a little bit of mascara really, but you have a trick or two up your sleeve.

Arriving at your little house, which doesn't really feel the same anymore, it doesn't feel like a home without him, damnit escapes your lips, while throwing your keys on the kitchen countertop.

Just standing in the shower, while the hot water is running down your body, all you can think of, is the way he'd looked this morning, as if something is weighing, heavily on his shoulders, maybe he misses you, the thought enters your mind, you could've sworn your heart just skipped a beat, but you just suppress that little excitement of just maybe he feels the same. Getting out, the shower, grabbing the nearest towel, wrapping it tightly around your body.

Walking to your dresser, opting out for a pair of dark blue jeans, and a plain black t-shirt, with your favourite pair of flat black boots, before closing the dresser, is when you spot it, he's favourite red flannel shirt you stole, to wear whenever you'll just be lounging around the house, taking the shirt, holding it closely to your beating heart, breathing in, the woody musky scent coming, from the shirt holding too much memories.

A little tear escaping and rolling over your cheek. Throwing it back into the closet, like it's the shirt's fault, you turn around to your mirror so that you can put on some makeup and get your hair done, deciding that you'll be going for the loosely braided hair you like so much.

You were just about done, when you hear your phone receiving a message, its from Eileen, "Hey sweetie, how are you doing? Listen you and me, we are going out for a girls night tomorrow, Sam's working late again so it's you and me, painting this town red, okay no excuses.!" A little smile forming across your lips, honestly you don't feel much like going out, but maybe she needs it just as much as you do. Texting her back , yeah hun let's do it , sounds like fun. I'll bring the red paint, with a laughing emoji, and some hugs and kisses you send the message.

Getting out the cab at church, grabbing your art supplies, walking towards the big welcoming doors, you breathe in, let's do this, you put on a big smile, hoping it'll take away the sadness in your eyes.

......

Okay kids that's it for tonight, I'll see you again on Friday, and remember, there is no right or wrong when it comes to art, just let your heart do the talking, each of the kids between the ages of seven and thirteen, comes to give you a hug, before heading out, oh you truly loved every one so much.

Last little girl, named Tiffany to give you a hug, come running up to you , she's 7 and has so much potential of being an artist one day, hugging you, looking you in the eyes with her big brown eyes, asking you when is uncle Dean coming to visit again. You just hug her tightly and say, not sure honey, he is very busy at work, oh okay, she says, I miss him, have to go now... Love you, bye, she goes running off!

Oh that little one, has no idea, what she's done, sitting down, with your hands covering your face trying, to be strong, trying to fight back the heartbreak, from damming up in your eyes, you feel a hand firmly, but softly resting on your shoulder, turning around to see Pastor Cas, hi, Pastor you said trying to hide the pain in your voice.

Are you okay, concern on his face, I will listen if you wanted to talk. Thank you Pastor, but is fine, I'll get better eventually, you say while getting up from your sitting position, gathering all the art supplies, you hear Pastor Cas say, I'm really here if you need to talk, and I know about you and Dean, I found him one night sitting in this same room, I think he came, here quite often when you weren't here, he told me the two of you broke up, I'm sorry to hear that he said empathy in his voice.

Damnit! You said underneath your breath, how can I tell Cas, how much I despise and love his best friend, strangely enough the two of them just connected, Dean started to show up at the art classes you gave, to see you, in your element he said, with that mischievous smile of his!

The kids quickly started to love him, as he would get on all fours and give them little horseback rides, one by one, while you were busy teaching the class, he and Cas would stand outside to talk and laugh. Dean would always tell you, that they're like brothers even though there so different.

I'm really fine you said quickly glancing at him, seeing the concern in his face. You're my friend too, he said. I know, but I'm fine, I really need to go, I have dinner with my parents tonight you said, with a smile barely tugging at your lips. Oh, okay, you should enjoy it he said smiling, coming closer and giving you a little hug.

Enjoy your evening Cas, you said while walking outside, waiting for a cab to pick you up. You could drive yourself, but preferred using the taxi services, one of the reasons being your not very good with directions and of course the other one is, its just much more fun sitting in the back taking in the view, of the places you've seen so many times before, but there's so many details and little miracle's that could be easily taken for granted! Oh very artsy of me, you say to yourself, a smile creeping on your lips!

You wave the taxi down, smiling while getting in, your eyes meeting his, he quickly looks away. Giving him the address, you just sit there in silence, admiring the stars and moon shining so brightly, a big dark cloud, hiding the stars all of the sudden.

You should be at your parents house by now! Looking at the street sign, seeing its he's going the wrong way.

Excuse me sir, you tap him on the shoulder, your going the wrong way, he turns to face you, his eyes as cold as breeze seeping through the window.

Sit back in your seat missy, I'm going the right way, his voice, sounding kind of raspy and mocking. So you adjust back in the seat, taking out your phone, knowing something is wrong you start typing away, the look he gives you in the mirror sends chills down your spine. It's him, the serial killer - Dean's been hunting.

Swallowing away the tightness in your chest, your fingers typing the words , "its the serial killer" before you could type, I love you mom, the car comes to a stop.

Breathing heavily you know its now or never, still holding you cell in your hand, you see him walking to the side of your door, turning slightly in your seat, your feet pointing at the door, he pulls it open, give me your damn phone he angrily says. That's when you gave it your all, you kicked him with both feet, and while he stuttering backwards, you turn around on your hands and feet, quickly crawling to the other side of the seat so that you can get away, your hand touching the door handle, almost there, biting your lip, ahhhhh! A scream escapes your lips, his pulling you out of the car by your ankles, trying to grab onto everything you can find, but there's nothing.

You feel the dirt and rocks underneath your arms, scraping the skin, trying to find a way of getting away from his tight grip, stil squirming he grabs your hair, that's when you feel it, a pinch, almost mosquito bite like, into your neck, night, night, you little shit, you hear his voice, sounding very pleased with himself.

You can feel it starting to take affect, did I send the text, you wondered, tears staining your face, the darkness came over you despite the moon shining so brightly.

#spotify #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #jared padalecki #jensen ackles x reader #sam and dean #benny lafitte #castiel spn #dean winchester imagine #eileen leahy

[spnhunter4life]

Winchester's Girl

A Dean hockey AU. I went to a game with my coworkers last night and came up with this idea. However, since I have neither the motivation nor the knowledge of the sport to write out a full-fledged fic for this, have a bullet pointed summary of what I came up with. (What would this be called? An imagine maybe? I feel like I've seen posts similar to this called imagines.)

A/N: Ok, so this turned out to be longer than I anticipated (imagine that). This is a bit more actual story and less summary than I expected when I started this. I still think it fits better in this format though, because it's easier to skip around where I want and not put the effort into combining it all together somehow. Also, just a heads up, this is tagged friends to lovers because I think that's the best way to describe it. I also think the lovers part tends to imply that there will be smut, but that is not the case here.

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

You and Dean have been friends for so long, you can barely even remember life without him. You met in eighth grade when your family moved to Kansas and immediately clicked. You had a lot in common, but you especially bonded over your shared love of hockey. You were there to be proud and support him as he transitioned from the local high school team to the college team, and then again when he made it to a professional team. Nothing made you more proud or excited than hearing that he had become center for the Kansas Hunters.

All the guys on the team knew you. You were even pretty good friends with a few of them. Since you attended more of his games than you might care to admit and had even been known to attend a practice or two if you and Dean had plans after, the rest of the guys jokingly referred to you as Winchester's girl.

"Hey, Winchester! Your girl is here!" They would call out to him when they spotted you entering the building on practice days. It was Benny who said it the first time, and it just sort of caught on from there.

"Who is that girl?" Cas's new girlfriend asked one night, spotting you at a party following a big win. "I think I've seen her at every single one of your games." Cas barely even needed to glance in your direction to know who she was talking about. "Who, Y/n? That's just Winchester's girl."

A couple years ago, during the off season, Dean decided it was time to take you skating. Despite being a lifelong hockey fan, you'd never actually learned to skate. You were a little nervous about falling over a lot and making a fool out of yourself, but mostly you were excited. You loved watching Dean on the ice, the speed and ease with which he moved. It was like he was flying. You wanted to be able to experience that freedom for yourself.

Despite his laughter and teasing -- "How can someone who spends so much time at a hockey rink be so terrible at skating?" -- he was a very good teacher. He had endless patience and was familiar with the way you learned which made it easy for him to pass on the secret knowledge of how to balance on two blades in a way you quickly understood.

By the end of the first lesson, you were a little bruised from falling so many times but had also figured out how to stay upright and move around. And if you were still moving at a snail's pace as you got used to things while Dean zoomed by you, at least you were on your feet.

You and Dean have this years-long running bet of sorts. It started in high school when the two of you were in chorus together, you because you enjoyed it and wanted to be and Dean because he had to in order to get his fine arts credit -- although you suspect that no matter how much he denies it, there was a small part of him that enjoyed it. Your teacher had a requirement that at the local band/chorus contest, everyone must participate in at least one small group piece on top of the pieces you sang as a full choir. Dean pestered you for days before you finally agreed to do a duet with him. "But," you told him, "only if you score a goal within the first three minutes of the game tonight." You weren't sure why you decided to make him work for it instead of just agreeing. After all, you knew he was a decent singer and would make a good duet partner. Not to mention you enjoyed spending time with him, so working on a song together wouldn't exactly be a hardship. But you'd already offered the deal and weren't about to take it back. Of course Dean's eyes lit up at the challenge and he immediately agreed. That night, just over two minutes into the game he scored a goal. He immediately looked up, finding you in the crowd quickly since you tended to sit in the same place, and winked at you. You knew it was his way of gloating in the couple seconds he had available to do so, and you rolled your eyes at him but couldn't contain your smile.

After that it became a thing. If there was something Dean wanted from you -- something he wanted help with or something he wanted to do that he knew you'd enjoy but you were a little hesitant about (like going to homecoming with him) -- he'd use the "if I score a goal in under three minutes" challenge as a way to get it.

After a while, it evolved into more of a silly game. It became an almost every game occurrence. He still brought up big things once in a while -- "if I score in under three minutes tonight, you have to go talk to that cute guy from the library you won't shut up about" -- but it was mostly little stuff. "If I score in under three minutes tonight, I get to pick the movie we watch this weekend; If I score in under three minutes tonight, you're buying me a pizza; If I score in under three minutes tonight, you have to come with me to the show my friend and his horrible band are putting on. If I have to suffer through it, so do you."

You suspected that he liked the challenge of it, that he wanted to give himself a reason to really work hard. While he definitely wasn't managing to score in time every night, he managed it enough to gain a reputation for himself as an early game scorer. "Watch out for Winchester in those first few minutes of the game," you'd heard people say. "If he gets anywhere near your goal, he will score."

Just like the first time, if he won the challenge, he would find you in the stands and wink at you. In the college years, this led to the more intense fans -- particularly the young women who knew what he looked like beneath the helmet -- to speculate who he might be winking at and why. In the last couple years with the Hunters, it led to even more teasing from the guys about you being Winchester's girl.

It has been a brutal game against the Hunters' biggest rival the Leviathans. More fights have broken out than you've seen in probably the last three or four games combined. One of the Leviathans' defenders broke his wrist in the first period. The score has been neck and neck, neither team able to gain a lasting advantage over the other. There is about a minute and a half left in the game when Dean scores a goal, putting the Hunters two points ahead, the biggest gap of the whole game. The crowd cheers, none of them louder than you, you're sure.

It happens in the middle of the next play. One second Dean is flying down the ice, all fire and determination. The next, there's a collision of bodies. You don't think anything of it. It happens all the time. Until three of the bodies pull back and the fourth is left lying on the ice. You can't do anything but stare as the big black 67 of Dean's jersey stares back. Fear holds you prisoner and you can't move, watching helplessly as the coach steps onto the ice, followed soon after by an EMT. He manages to find his feet and is escorted slowly off the ice. You're on your feet in an instant, heading for the locker room where you know he'll be looked at.

You pace back and forth outside the locker room, not daring to actually go in. You know you're not allowed. So you pace, biting your fingernails as you listen to the final moments of the game and wait for some sort of news on Dean. The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game, and you know it's only a matter of time before the rest of the team is here. Maybe then you'll get some answers.

"What are you doing back here?" A hard voice demands. You look over to see the Leviathans' coach staring you down. He must have been passing by on the way to the other locker room. "You shouldn't be here," he says, not giving you time to answer.

"I know, but-"

"Get out of here," he demands. You know he's doing the right thing. He's probably dealt with overzealous fans before that wait for players outside the locker rooms and is only defending the privacy of the opposing team. But you don't appreciate his tone, especially given the circumstances.

"She's fine," a second voice says before you can answer. You look over the coach's shoulder to see Cas standing there, the rest of the team behind him. None of them look happy.

"Novak," the coach says. "I was just trying to make sure you weren't bothered. Fans shouldn't be back here."

"You're right, they shouldn't," Benny agrees. "But that's Winchester's girl. If she wants to be here, she has every right." The nickname that at first made you blush and now makes you roll your eyes never sounded so good. It's like a badge of honor. In a way, the team sees you as family. They will defend you and let people know you belong here with them. With Dean. The coach backs off.

"Just tell me how he is," you ask, turning to Benny and Cas with pleading eyes. Of course they don't have any more idea than you do, but you just want them to go in, assess the situation, and come back to tell you what's going on.

"Why don't you go find out for yourself?" Benny answers. You look at him in surprise. "I can't go in there," you tell him.

"Sure you can," Kevin disagrees. "Nobody's undressed in there. You can be in and out before we've got our pads off." You wait for only a second to see if anyone will protest and when they don't, you rush inside. Your eyes zero in on Dean immediately, sitting on a bench and talking with the EMT, who turns his head at the sound of the door opening. A look of surprise crosses his face and he stands up. "Young lady, you can't-"

"Yes she can," Dean cuts him off. His eyes are looking slightly unfocused, but they are fixed on you. You hear the rest of the team file in behind you as you make your way over to Dean, slowly, like you're afraid he'll break if you move too fast. You look him over as you move. His helmet, gloves, and skates are off. He looks ok, except for the eyes. "What happened?" You ask, sitting carefully beside him. "Are you ok?"

"That depends," he responds. Fear fills you again. Is the injury that bad? "Depends on what?" You ask. On if he has surgery to fix it? On if he never plays hockey again? The horrible possibilities flood your mind.

"Did we win?" He asks. You're too stunned to answer. You replay his question in your head a few times, sure you must have misheard him. "Are you serious?" You finally ask.

"Yes, I'm serious," he responds. "Did we win?"

You let out a frustrated breath. "You were up by two with barely more than a minute left. Of course you won," you answer. "Then I'm fine," he says. You feel like you could smack him. Why must he be so difficult? Why couldn't he just answer your question.

"Dean. What happened?" You demand. You can hear the edge in your voice.

"It's just a minor concussion. It was nothing. I'll be fine," he says dismissively.

"It was not nothing," you argue.

"It's hockey," he answers, as if that is explanation enough. "People get hurt. You should be used to that by now."

Sure, you've seen lots of players injured throughout the years. You've even seen Dean injured. But it was always something minor. Bumps and bruises, a sprained wrist, a broken nose one time. It wasn't the same. "I should be used to seeing you laying flat out on the ice and not moving?" You demand. Something in your voice alerts him to the fact that you're done with the joking and avoiding.

He sighs. "What do you want from me here, sweetheart? It's over and I'm fine. There's nothing more to do about it."

His question catches you off guard. What do you want from him? For him to never play hockey again? No. That wouldn't ensure he was never hurt again, and he loves it too much. There are many reasons you could never ask that of him, not the least of which being you have no right to ask. Do you want him to assure you that he's alright? Because he's already done that. So, what then? If you're being honest with yourself, what you really want is to hold onto him for a while, and for him to hold you back while your brain works on accepting the fact that he really is ok. But you can't ask that.

Instead, you agree with him. "You're right. I'm sorry. You just really scared me out there."

"I'm sorry you were so scared," he says sincerely. "But I promise, I really am ok."

"I know," you say with a forced smile. You give his hand a squeeze before leaving the room, giving the rest of the guys the privacy they've been patiently waiting for.

It's a couple weeks after the concussion incident. Things between you and Dean have been the same as usual, except they haven't been. Not really. You can't pinpoint what it is that's different, but there's definitely something. It's New Year's Eve. You're at a party with Dean and a bunch of guys from the team. Dean has been at your side all night. You wouldn't go as far as calling it weird, but... it's definitely not usual. You've attended a lot of parties together and while you make a point of knowing where the other person is and even spending a fair amount of time together, you do usually hang out with other people too. Not that you're not hanging out with anyone else. It's just that apparently you're staying together while doing it. Not that you're complaining.

The midnight countdown is fast approaching. You're not currently dating anyone so you've resigned yourself to not having a midnight kiss this year. You don't mind. You don't really see it as the big deal a lot of people seem to. You think to yourself that Dean better find someone very quick if he plans on kissing someone though. For some reason, that thought doesn't sit quite right with you. You're not sure why. You've never cared before who Dean kissed.

The countdown starts. You watch the people around you as they scurry to be near their partners. The count reaches two and you turn to Dean, preparing to clink your beers together in celebration. The count reaches one and Dean's free hand goes to rest on your cheek as he leans in and presses his lips to yours. When he pulls away, it leaves you breathless. The room explodes into cheers and the clinking of bottles and glasses.

"Why'd you do that?" You ask, ignoring the celebration going on around you.

"Should I not have?" He asks. It's a mild question, but there's a challenge in it. As if he's daring you. But daring you to do what?

"No, it's not- I didn't say that." You're not sure what he was hoping you'd say, but this is clearly at the very least not the wrong response. He waits for you to continue. "It's just... we've both been single on New Year's Eve before. You've never kissed me."

"It's never been right before," he shrugs. He sees your confusion and explains. "You and me, I think we've been heading in this direction for a long time. And I think everyone but us could see it. It's why the guys tease us so much. It's why there's a bunch of hockey obsessed girls out there who are insanely jealous of you even though up until now there hasn't been anything to be jealous of. I think it's why all of my girlfriends haven't liked you very much and your boyfriends have hated me."

"I wouldn't say they hated you," you protest. You're not sure why. It's probably the nerves at the implications of what he's saying. It makes you feel better to say something, unhelpful as it may be. He just gives you a look before continuing.

"I don't know if we honestly didn't know we felt this way or were just lying to ourselves about it. But you can't tell me things haven't been different between us lately. I know it's not just me." Was he right? Was that the change you've been noticing? You're not sure if you would have come to this conclusion on your own. After all, this was Dean. Steady, reliable, Dean who you've never seen as more than a friend. But now that the possibility has been brought up, now that he's kissed you, you can't deny what you're feeling.

"Things have been different," you admit. "I just..." How to finish that sentence. You just what? Never saw Dean in that way? Not untrue, but what was the point in bringing it up? Objectively you've always been able to clearly see why other girls fought tooth and nail for his attention. And now that you are looking at him that way, it is a pointless statement. You weren't expecting it? Also true, but obvious enough without having to say it.

Dean is usually good about letting you sort through your thoughts at times like this, but today he doesn't have the patience. "You just what?" He prompts. "Didn't expect the night to go like this?"

"Well no, I didn't. But that's not what I was going to say."

"Then what?"

"I don't know," you sigh, frustrated at your inability to find the words you want. You start speaking without really thinking, and thankfully the right words come to you. "I guess I just didn't realize why things were different. I noticed it, but I couldn't figure out what it was."

"And now that you know?"

You give him a little mischievous smile, feeling more confident after having some time to process. "Being just friends was getting a little boring anyway. Too predictable. I think it's about time we change things up."

Dean grins back and it lights up his face. You nearly catch your breath at the sight. Having your eyes opened to your feelings is like peeling a film off your eyes that you've lived with your entire life without knowing it's there. It's like seeing him for the first time, and he is the most stunning man you've ever seen. "Alright," he says. "Let's change it up then. If I score in under three minutes at the next game, you have to go on a date with me. Maybe you even have to kiss me."

You stop your jaw from literally dropping open, but you know he can read the look of disbelief on your face. "Your next game isn't for four days." You point out. "You're really going to make me wait that long?"

He shrugs, but you can see the teasing glint in his eye. He's all talk. "We've waited for ten years. I don't see what another few days could hurt."

"Screw that," you say. You set your beer on the table next to you and throw your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. His hands settle automatically on the small of your back, arms around your waist, and you can feel his smile as he kisses you. You can't help but to smile back.

You're soon interrupted by a shouted, "Hey, Winchester finally got his girl!" from a drunken Benny, followed by whistles and catcalls from the rest of his teammates. You can't fight the heat that rises to your cheeks, but you sit through the ensuing teasing and congratulations as patiently as you can. Thankfully it's short lived as there's more exciting things happening -- it is a party after all -- and Dean's arm around your waist certainly helps calm your nerves.

"Don't be embarrassed," Dean says, knowing you've never been one for PDA. "You know they don't care." You aren't so embarrassed that you won't get over it in a minute or two, but you appreciate his attempts to calm you nonetheless. "And look on the bright side," he adds, brightening at whatever he's thinking. "At least now we're all on the same page the next time they call you my girl."

You smile. He's right. 'Winchester's girl' has a whole new ring to it now. It might have taken us a while to catch up, but they were right. You are, and always were, Dean's girl.

Secondary note: I realize I switch tenses halfway through this. I don't really feel like fixing it though. Also, I've tried to at least keep the present tense section all present tense, but I wouldn't be surprised if I'm switching back and forth. I usually write in past tense and found myself reverting back to it without realizing multiple times. I've reread it to try and catch anything, but it's late and I'm tired, so I probably missed some. I'll probably read this over again sometime in the next day or two to find any errors, but I wanted to get it posted. Hope you enjoyed!

Tags:

@123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

#winchester's girl #supernatural #fanfiction #hockey au #dean winchester #reader insert #dean x reader #getting together #friends to lovers

[justroaminground]

upside down (Sam Winchester X Reader)

so this one is a bit different. it is a mini-scenario as i like to call it! no smut just fluff. watching movies, series or listening to music gives me those scenarios and that was one of it and i thought why not put it out in the world.

plot: so you're a witch (kinda rowena inspired) and help sam out, safe dean. you end up pregnant by sam and thing's take a turn.

enjoy my mini-scenario! :)

(sooooorrryy for mistake in advance)

___________________________________

shaky fingers clawed into the piece of plastic in your hand. on the little screen it said one word, which put your whole world upside down.

"pregnant"

reading it out in disbelief it felt even more wrong. for solid 10 minutes you simply stared the positive pregnancy test down. waiting for it to change, but no matter how long you were waiting, the result won't change.

you were pregnant.

it wasn't like you're 20 and had a huge problem to tell your mom and dad.

absolutely not.

the problem was, you were a 312 year old witch, pregnant by a hunter. well that sounded like a really bad love/drama with the only twist, it was real to you.

roaming the world for the past centuries you made the best out of it and stayed undercover. you were banned from the one and only huge coven and had to stay undercover or else you would have been killed.

now that a lot has changed since then, you decided to get back to work and follow the one and only dream you had. being the queen of hell. on the way there you had to face some major obstacles, but nonetheless you made it. still not the queen of hell, but you were getting there.

a few months back you decided to help sam, safe his brother from the mark of cain. it took the winchesters quiet some time to get the book of the damned, but they made it. hearing all the stories about them, you weren't really surprised to hear they got it. even though there were some really bad things roaming heaven, earth and hell, the winchesters had a name, which they protected.

you decided for yourself to stay away from them, only to be summoned by sam himself one day. he trapped you and made you help him or else he'd kill you. since you were on your own and you knew there could be some obstacles waiting for you, reaching your goal of being the queen of hell, you decided to help him out, in return of him having to help you out if you were in need. he agreed and from there on it happened.

you've settled in a old house about an hour from the bunker and had everything you needed to translate the book of the damned. from time to time, sam joined you and supported you. he brought snack's, you two had many late night talks and one thing lead to the other and you two grew together. one night thing's just got out of hand and before you knew it, you woke up in his arms the next morning.

this was about 2 months ago and it was the one and only time every you got intimate with him. both of you knew, this wouldn't have a future. sam from the beginning on, let you know, if you screwed him over he'd kill you without any hesitation. he also mentioned that, if dean found out, he'd track you down and probably kill you aswell. nonetheless sam had a sweet spot for you and you knew that.

looking back you couldn't wrap your head around, why you even said yes to that, but it must have been the risk. no risk no fun, right?

well, there you had your risk. slowly coming back from your trans, you felt tears filling up your eyes and weren't able to explain, how this was even possible?! how were you able to get pregnant?

you weren't intimate in ages with anyone, because you never felt something like attraction or the need of closeness. but with sam it was just different. he made you feel so many emotions at once , gave you the feeling of being important and even made you more human again. it was a deeper connection you felt towards him and you knew he felt the same, but both of you held back. knowing that if you were to close, the separation would hurt even more. there was only one way, why you got pregnant from him. sam being your soulmate. it was the only opportunity of being able to even welcome a baby as a witch. the only way to get pregnant was, if the partner you were getting intimate with was your soulmate.

you threw the pregnancy test into the trash can in the bathroom and went back into the kitchen. on the kitchen table were all the book's, notes and stuff from translating the book of the damned. your eyes looked around the room and you shook your head, still not believing what you just found out. tears rolled down your cheeks sobbing to yourself.

"this just can't be it.." you whispered to yourself, trying to pull yourself together.

walking over to the long mirror in the hallway you pulled up your shirt and looked at your belly. holding your shirt up with your chin, you laid both hands on your tummy, feeling and watching it from all angles. nothing's visible of course. you did have a small tummy but you always had that, soft and squishy.

hearing a knock on the door, you jumped shocked aside and quickly pulled your shirt down.

"hey y/n! it's me!" sam's well-know voice, echoed through the door.

"fuck fuck fuck" you whispered to yourself and check yourself in the mirror. fixing everything you could in the short amount of time you had and took a deep breath. before opening the door you put on the best fake smile you had and swung it open.

"a rare visit we have here!"

"i know, i know." sam laughed and walked past you into the house. "thing's have been busy. you know dean's just not himself.." he continued and you closed the door.

"no worries, that's what i thought" you gave him a warm and understanding smile. for a moment both of you just stood there, when he finally moved over and took you in a long and loving hug.

"are you okey?" sam whispered into your hair and softly stroke along your back.

you simply nodded against his chest, not wanting to go any deeper into the topic. his simple presence gave you butterflies in your tummy and you already felt way better. funny how someone made you feel so many things's after centuries of not feeling a thing. for a few minutes the two of you just stood there arm in arm and he gently pulled away.

"are you sure..?" slight worry was seen in his features and he stroke a few strands of hair aside.

"yes, i was just up late the past few nights.." you explained to him, not even lying. well not really. you did stay up late, but it just wasn't the real reason you felt the way you do.

"well, i am here today and i will stay until tomorrow! need to catch up with all the hours i stayed away!" he smiled and clapped into his hands.

you raised an eyebrow and couldn't hide a laugh. "well sammy, quiet late!" walking past him, you made your way into the kitchen and took a note from the table. hearing the heavy footsteps behind you, you knew he was following you closely.

raising the note you looked at him and smiled. "in my hand, i have the three ingredients for the spell."

his face got all serious and his jaw clenched. his hand reached for the note, but you pulled it away.

"ah, ah, ah samuel" you told him in a warning tone and hid it behind your back.

"y/n!" his eyes got serious immediately, stepping closer.

"i want to hear our deal again." stepping another step back, you hit the kitchen counter with your lower back.

"stop playing games, or do i have to remind you of your job?" sam warned. when it came down to the spell, things got more serious and he was easily triggered.

"what's the deal sam!" you asked calmly again.

his hands rolled into fists and it took a moment for him to answer. "immunity from us."

"exactly." you breathed out, with a huge smirk on your face and handed him the note.

his eyes flew hungry over the note and he right away took his phone out. dialing a number. it beeped a few times and he left you standing there in the kitchen.

loving moments with him, sometimes ended like there was never more, but both of you were pretty good at hiding what you really felt.

a few minutes later he came back and put the note back onto the table. he leaned with both hands down onto the table and exhaled in relief.

"a friend will get the thing's and by tonight we can do the ritual."

"what friend?" you asked and walked over to him, letting yourself down onto a chair.

"doesn't matter."

"i thought we were kinda..close?" hesitantly you took one of his hands into yours and squeezed it gently.

"that's the problem" he gave you a look and you were able to see he was hurt.

"all i wanted was to safe dean, no matter the consequences, but i am just not willing to lose you at any cost. same with dean. i am torn between the two of you and i can't stand this any longer y/n" he continued and pulled his hand out of your grip.

"what are you trying to say?" not really sure of what he was up to you looked at him confused.

"after we've done the ritual tonight, we have to stay apart from each other."

"what?!" quickly you got up. "i get it we may not have the apple pie life like the normal kids, but aren't we worthy of someone in their life?! aren't we worthy of feeling the way we make eachother feel?!"

sam stroke through his hair and shook his head in desperation. "don't make things harder y/n. if dean get's a hint of what is going on here, he won't hesitate for a minute. he'll track you down and-"

"kill me." you cut him off and nodded. it wasn't the first time, the two of you talked about that, but it was the first time, you weren't able to ignore the risk of dying. you weren't alone anymore you had someone to keep safe. therefore you stayed quiet and turned away from him. tears rolled down your cheeks but you stayed completely silent.

sam kept quiet himself and simply hugged you from behind. pressed you needy against his body and placed a sweet kiss on your neck. "you mean to much to me. i don't want to lose you. i prefer to think you're happy out there, than dead somewhere burned. i am not saying we aren't allowed to meet every again, i am just saying we need to keep our distance for a while."

enjoying the past few hours with sam around, like he used to be, you soaked it all up. that night the ritual was done and sam as well as castiel stayed with dean in the bunker. you never knew how it went down, but you remember sam's words and took of. you packed your few belongings and moved on.

----

two months passed and you lived in a motel in nevada. being pregnant kinda changed you into taking more care of the risks you took. therefore you stopped hunting down your goal of being the queen of hell. you sat back and took more care after yourself. of course you still practiced your witchcraft, but in a very different way. you jobbed at a nearby hospital and helped the people heal.

you haven't heard from sam in a while, but thought of him every night. during the daytime it was easy to keep yourself busy, but laying there in bed. all to yourself, your thoughts circled around him. wondering how he is doing, what he is doing, what it would be like if he was here, what he'd think of the baby and much more. the only reason you were able to handle the situation of staying away from him so well, was because you carried his baby with you. so kind of a part of him never left you.

your fingertips stroke softly over the skin of your belly and you felt how your tummy has gotten harder. it used to be more soft and squishy. now it was firm and when you were wearing something more figure hugging it was visible you were pregnant. you loved your little baby belly. with every month your belly grew you accepted the fact that you would raise the baby all by yourself.

almost falling asleep a shrilly sound of our phone woke you up. tired you grabbed it from the other side of the bed and tried to read who it was. not being able to make out who it was, you just figured out it had to be someon from the hospital and simply answered the phone.

"it better be a emergency sarah!" a tired laugh left your lips and you rolled to the side.

"i am not sarah, but it indeed is a emergency." a well to known voice echoed through the phone and your eyes widened.

you quickly sat up and felt your heart race against your chest. "s-sam?"

"i'm sorry, if i disturbed, but i need you" he explained and by the sound of his voice, you could tell he wasn't well.

"tell me where and i'll be there."

"thank's." sam whispered and with that he hung up.

not thinking a second of it you jumped out of bed and got ready. putting on a dress aswell as some tights. you threw a jacket over it and packed your important things, already leaving the house. by the time you reached the car, he sent you the location of the bunker and you drove there. it took you a few hours, which felt like forever since you didn't knew what was going on, your mind created thousands of scenarios.

reaching the bunker, sam let you in and you couldn't help but fall into his arms. you hugged him tightly against your body and buried your face in his chest. inhaling the well known scent of him. his strong arms held you closely against his body and both of you stayed like this for a few minutes.

not knowing if you were allowed to talk you just looked up at him and stroke gently over his cheek. a loving smile on your lips took in every feature of his.

"good to see you, up and healthy" he whispered quietly and placed a small kiss on your forehead.

"missed you too." you answered and nodded.

"please.." he gestured you the way and he took the bag from you.

you made your way downstairs and at the bottom of the stairs one man was waiting. right away you were able to tell, he wasn't human, but couldn't make out what he was. sam followed closely behind you and walked trough the hall, placing your bag on the table.

"cas meet y/n!" sam talked into the mans direction.

"hello y/n" the man said and looked at you from head to toe. "i am castiel. an angel of the lord." he continued.

your eyes widened. "a-an angel of the lord?" you repeat in disbelief and looked from castiel to sam, which joined the two of you.

"yeah.." sam chuckled a bit and nodded. "cas has been thorough a lot with us and is literally family.." sam continued.

"still a weirdo though!" another voice added and you looked into the direction the voice came from. a tall man, not as tall as sam, but tall. brown short hair, green eyes and a bright smile on his face.

"so this is the one and only witch?!" he came closer and switched his gaze from sam to cas. stopping right in front of you.

Looking you up and down with a very suspicious look on his face. dean turned to sam with a chuckle and shook his head. "never!"

"dean." sam gave dean a warning look and took a deep breath. "she's one of the oldest witches. y/n was able to survive all these years unnoticed and is our last chance to read the book of the damned." sam explained as calm as possible.

dean turned back to you again and sighted. "if you screw us over.." he moved his hand to his belt and lifted his flannel. revealing a gun. "you're dead" seriousness in his eyes made you shiver under his gaze and you swallowed hard. back then you would have started a fight right away, but not now. not now, risking the baby being hurt.

"dean calm down!" castiel puut one hand on his shoulder and pulled him back.

"n-no it's fine i get it.." you spoke up shaky and smiled nervously.

sam gave you a warm smile and you were able to read the sorry across his face. "let me update you on the case.." not being able to answer, sam pulled you away to the table which was covered in books.

"uhm..wow this already looks exhausting" you chuckled and sat down.

while sam updated you about the new case, castiel and dean still stood there and whispered about something. you were sure they were talking about you, but you didn't show any reaction towards it. you would work this case through with them and leave just as fast as you came. maybe spent some special time with sam, but nothing more.

"y/n?" sam's voice brought you back into reality and you looked at him a bit surprised.

"uhm..sorry! the drive was pretty long and..uhm well i am a bit all over the place i guess.."

"you're right where are my manners! i'll get you something to drink!" sam excused himself and quickly left the room.

looking over to the place cas and dean stood, they were gone. where were they?! you moved in your chair, feeling a bit uneasy, when cas finally came into the room.

"dean is sometimes very suspicious about new people." cas just stood there awkwardly and looked at you blankly.

"well i think i understand.." with a nervous smile you turned a bit into his direction.

"there is something off with your...aura" cas spoke out very randomly and tilted his head.

"sorry..?" looking at him in confusion.

"it's like there are two? like a little one in your..usual one?" cas tried to explain what he saw and you were able to tell by his gaze, he was literally studying you.

was he able to see the baby's aura?! was this even possible? would he even feel it?! quiet nervous about these thoughts you swallowed hard and cleared your throat.

"oh, uhm i was always told i am something special" nervously you laughed and turned back to the table.

sam appeared back in the room, joined by dean and the two sat down at the table with you.

"cas stop being weird and scaring our visitor." sam told cas and pointed to the chair.

"sorry." cas said and sat down.

sipping at your tea you listened carefully to sam and dean. by removing the mark off dean, you've released the darkness, which caused a whole lot of problems. you knew there was a price to it, but you never knew it would be this big. their hope was to find a spell in the book of the damned to lock the darkness away. that was the part you had to support them.

"so..do you think you can help us with that?" sam asked hopefully and smiled.

"i removed the mark off dean, releasing the darkness so it is my duty to find a way out of this." you nodded your head slightly and looked at the three of them. "it is the right thing to do..right?" a warm smile appeared on your lips.

you were able to see how the tension was released, after you said that and you looked at dean. he took another sip of his whiskey and took a deep breath, leaning his upper body forward, supporting his weight on his elbows, fingers on his chin.

"what's in it for you?" his low voice and strong gaze made you nervous again and you looked down into your cup.

looking back up at dean, you met his gaze again. "i just don't want to die."

dean raised and eyebrow and was quiet confused about that.

"what?"

"you heard me right. i just don't want to die." you said again.

"so no "queen of hell", "being the baddest witch alive" or whatever blah blah?!"

"dean just take her answer?!" being annoyed by dean's behavior, sam raised his voice a bit and looked at dean.

"really sammy?! are you that stupid?!" dean got louder and stood up in one shot. "you're telling me this is one of the strongest witches and her behavior is all vanilla and she doesn't want to die?! do you even listen to her?!" anger wore down on his body. his hands were balled into fists.

you knew exactly what he meant. you never behaved like that, but right now you had to. there was no way, you would risk the health of the baby, but you also understood why they didn't believe you.

before sam was able to shoot back, you got up and raised your voice.

"during the past few months, a lot has happened. i don't ask you do understand any of that, but like i said, the only thing i want is to live. i am not screwing you over." laying your eyes on dean, it only confirmed he was still not impressed. he stood there at the table and simply looked at you.

being to quick for anyone to react he grabbed your neck and pressed you down onto the table. sam and castiel shot up in shock and immediately tried to calm dean down. a hurtful squeal left your mouth and you didn't move a bit.

"dean what the fuck stop it!" sam rushed around the table and dean held his hand up, gesturing sam to stop as well as castiel. both of them stopped in their tracks and complete silence filled the room.

"i am giving you this one last chance, to tell us what your plan is and why you're helping us so willingly, or i will torture it out of you" his raspy voice filled the room and his fingertips buried their way into your neck.

another gasp left your mouth and tear swelled up in your eyes. "please i am begging you, s-"

"answer my god damn question!" dean raised his voice and you were able to see that sam was on and about to jump at dean, if he made one more move.

"i-i'm expecting a baby" you whispered quietly.

dean's hand immediately moved from you and pulled you back up. he turned you to look at the three of them and you took a sharp breath in.

sam's face went pale and the shock was written all over his face. all the thing's he wanted to ask were written all over his face, but he had to hold them back. dean nodded slightly and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"sorry..i-..you know we don't get this a lot.." dean tried to explain his actions and sighed.

simply nodding in response you pushed the chair aside and slowly sat back down. "i was surprised too.." you laughed insecure and looked at cas. his face lit up, because now it made sense why he saw two auras instead of just one.

the three sat back again and silence filled the room. sam supported his chin on his hand and the elbow of his arm on the table. staring absent on the table. dean leaned back in the chair and scratched his neck, rethinking his action and castiel just sat there and looked at sam and dean. before the awkwardness grew you cleared your throat and spoke up.

"so..uhm we need a spell to lock the darkness away right..?"

"yes!" dean quickly nodded.

"is there anything we..already know?"

"no not really..dean was the only one seeing her.." sam added and looked at dean.

"her? so..the darkness is a woman?" you laughed and looked at them.

"i was just as surprised!" cas added and shrugged his shoulders.

dean just nodded and you thought about that for a minute. "all i learned about the darkness was that, she was looked away before any life happened on earth. she never got in touch with anything we know." you explained.

"well explains why there is hardly anything about the darkness anywhere.." dean sighted.

"i will head off and check some of my possibilities." cas told you and right when he finished, he disappear.

you jumped slightly and looked back at sam and dean. "still have to get used to that.." you laughed slightly.

"you never will!" dean added with a small smile. "uhm..i am really sorry for what i just did.."

"it's okey. sam and cas are probably the only ones you have and you want to protect them." you calmed dean with a smile and rested your hand on your tummy. "i feel the same." you added.

you were able to tell that dean was very sorry for what he just did. his fingers reached for his glass and he took the last sip of his whiskey. "i feel like we should just rest for the night and continue tomorrow. the guy right here is in his dream already!" dean laughed and patted sam on the shoulder. "so let's head to the rooms. you're is the second on the left, right before the kitchen, bed is made and everything you need is there." dean said and went off into his room.

which left the two of you alone in the room. you felt the anxiety creep up in your body and looked at sam. his gaze was still on the table and his jaw was clicking. his breath was heavier and you were able to tell by his posture he was about to say something. he just didn't knew how.

"how?" he spoke up and his voice cracked.

"i don't know.." you answered confidently. you knew exactly how this was possible, but you knew how overwhelming it already was for him to know that you're pregnant. you didn't want to completely shock him and tell him witches were only able to get pregnant by their soulmate. that was a fact you weren't able to handle yourself properly.

"is it.." he stopped in the middle of his sentence and inhaled deeply. it looked like he thought about his question again. "is it mine..?"

you just knew this was going to come sooner or later, but you hoped it wouldn't. nonetheless the situation was here. "yes without a doubt. you were the only man in..ages i got intimate with.." the last few words were just whispers.

sam let out a tone you weren't able to identify. his hands stroke over his face and he buried his fingers in his hair. resting his head for a long moment in his hands.

you got up and checked the hallway, before moving over to his side. you stopped at his chair and rested your hands on his shoulders. "see, i don't know how to calm you down. i was just as confused, concerned and just scared as you are right now. but if it helps, nothing changes. i am working this case and i will leave again. you won't notice anything you don't have to care about me..well us"

he moved slowly and he was all over the place. he just looked at you and back down at your belly and back up at you. "i'm sorry i don't know what to say.." he whispered out and shook his head. "i never thought i'd find myself in a situation like this.."

you couldn't help, but laugh. "well..me neither" you confirmed and sat down next to him.

a small smile formed on his lips. "it's not like i never thought about it. it's just that..you know this life.."

you cut sam off and took his hands into yours. "you don't have to explain anything sam. i know just exactly what you mean. nonetheless it is what it is right now."

you just nodded and squeezed his hands tightly. once again he looked at your belly.

"what month..? i am not able to..you know, see the belly." he explained a bit insecure.

"the 4th month. i am just pretty good at hiding it.." you smiled and looked down at yourself. you pulled the dress a bit tighter and a tummy made itself noticeable. a whole lot of emotions overcame you and even though it felt completely wrong you loved it. you loved being pregnant, you loved sharing this with sam and him being the father. there was no way out no and to your surprise you didn't even wanted a way out. it was the part of you, you fought with for the longest time. being so naïve and weak to believe, you were able to live a normal life, but there you were. pregnant and full of hope.

his eyes widened a bit and he looked back up at you again. "that seems so..unreal." he mumbled more to himself.

"it has been a lot. i feel like we should rest and..you know let it sit." gently you stroke the back of his hand with your thumb and smiled.

"yeah you're right.." he agreed and simply pulled you into his arms again. "i do wanna care about..both of you y/n" he whispered against your temple and kissed it.

the first shock was over after a few weeks. you stayed with them for a while since the goal to lock away the darkness wasn't as easy. you and cas, aswell as dean grew together like friends and it felt like everything worked out for once. dean still didn't knew it was sam's baby, that was just one thing both of you weren't willing to share to anyone. it was just another day which passed and you got ready for bed. after having the talk with sam, the two of you needed a bit of space, adjusting to everything and haven't really had much time together. tonight was going to be different since dean and cas decided to work a case a few hours drive away from the bunker.

throughout the day you still hid your baby belly since you still felt very insecure showing it too much. you were used to only see it in bed or when you were alone. you knew it wouldn't work out forever, but you did as long as you could. wearing baggy sweaters or dresses most of the time. so you pulled another hoodie over your head and before you were able to leave your room, you heard a knock.

"come in!" you said and sat onto the bed.

sam came in, with a cup of tea in his hand and placed it on the nightstand. joining you on the bed.

"how are you feelin?" he asked and reached for your hand. holding your hand in his and slowly but gently massaging it.

"well i can tell the baby is growing.. i can feel my back and my feet, but it's fine" you explained and relaxed your hand in his grip.

"i know..we didn't have much time to ourselves lately, but..cas and dean are out and we have some time for ourselves. may i see the belly..?" sam asked a bit insecure. "if you don't feel comfortable, that's fine! i just..i just really wanna feel the baby i guess.." he explained and had a hard time finding the right words. you could tell it was burning deep down in him and of course you wouldn't deny his plea.

you carefully took you hand out of his grip and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. taking the seem of the hoodie into your fingers you slowly liftet it up, revealing the babybelly to him. sam's eyes followed every little move you made and when he saw the belly his eyes got a bit watery. you took his hand into yours and placed it gently on your belly. his big hands covered half of your small belly and you felt the warmth of his skin against yours. goosebumps covered your whole body and even to yourself this was a huge moment.

his hand gently pressed against your belly and a smile formed on his lips. "gosh..that's my baby.." he mumbled in fascination and switched his gaze from your tummy to you.

you smiled at him and rested your hand on top of his. his face got closer and you put your other hand onto his cheek. he closed the gap between the two of you and kissed you gently. you kissed him back and melted into the kiss. finally feeling completely at piece for once. all the worry and anxiety shifted off your shoulders for once and you were present. not worried about the future. it was just sam, the baby and you.

#the cw supernatural #oneshot #sam #supernatural #thecw #winchester #dean #dean winchester #samwinchester #smut #spn #spnxreader #spnfandom #supernatural fanfiction #winchester x reader #thecwspn #supernatural fandom #fandom #samwinchesterxreader

[writinginthesecrettrees]

What if Sam told Jess all about hunting? What if, in the years they were together, they encountered a ghost or a werewolf or something else? (Not a demon; they don’t know that’s what’s wrong with Brady, they don’t know that there are others, waiting and watching and planning.)

So when Dean comes to Stanford, “Dad’s on a hunting trip,” Sam doesn’t respond with secrecy. He asks “What was he hunting?” and “Where?” and when he leaves with Dean, Jess goes with them. Because she knows, because she’s seen a few things too, because Sam needs her support if he’s gonna get in his brother’s car and sit beside him and feel the guilty longing again.

What if Sam told Jess everything?

What if Jess wasn’t there to be killed, what if she didn’t burn on the ceiling of their home? What if it was someone else - a friend, a family member, a sister - and she’s got a need for revenge now too? So she goes on the road with Sam and Dean. And Dean tries not to be jealous every time he sleeps on the other side of a thin motel wall, hears Sam and Jess in bed together, wraps a thin pillow around his head to try and muffle the sound of them.

What if he can’t take that distance after Bloody Mary attacks Sam, pretends the motel they stop at doesn’t have two rooms available, stays awake to watch Sammy sleep and he didn’t expect Jess to be the big spoon and stay awake too. What if Jess and Dean get talking, and the only thing they really have in common is Sam so that’s what they talk about. And he doesn’t quite know how, but he finds himself talking about how he always feels like a piece of him is missing if Sam isn’t next to him (and it might be a chick flick moment but that’s okay because he’s talking to a smoking hot woman) and Jess gets a thoughtful look on her face before saying “You can hold him, too.”

And… “what?”

“He almost died today. I need to hold him, I bet you do too. You can, if you want to.”

What if Dean climbs into bed with his brother and his brother’s girlfriend, wraps an arm around them both because Jess is tight against Sam’s back, hooks his leg over Sam’s the way they used to when they were kids. And he’s finally able to sleep, with Sam’s head tucked under his chin.

What if Sam never mentions waking up pressed between the two of them, but they start sharing a bed regularly and Dean’s never slept better and Jess is smiling because neither has Sam.

What if Sam had told Jess everything, and she can see that Dean wants the same thing, so she decides to help the man she loves with her whole heart get the brother he loves with his?

And it works out, because somehow they’ve ended up with Sam burying his face in her pussy and Dean holding Sam’s hips while he fucks into him. And when they fall asleep sated, in a tangle of sweaty limbs, something about it feels more right than anything they’ve ever had.

They feel whole.

#sam/jess #sam/dean #sam/dean/jess #wincest #and more #going through my drafts #found this

[deanwinchesterswitch]

Dreams of Happiness

Summary: You’re doing well in your new life—many would say you’re ‘living the dream’. The only problem is, it’s not the life you dreamed of living.

Pairing: Dean x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Angst; Some fluff; Language; Mentions of smut; Canon divergence.

Betas: @princessmisery666 and @wayward-and-worn

Word Count: 2,747

Part One

It’s been a long time since you’ve attended one of the monthly gatherings. The possibility of seeing Dean makes your chest clench with pain, punching the air from your lungs. Yet, you miss your found family, and avoiding them to avoid him, serves no purpose. Besides, you're in a better place emotionally now. At least that’s what you keep telling everyone, anyway.

Eyes scanning the room as you pull out of Jody’s hug, your heart stalls at her next words, unsure if it’s from gratified relief or abject longing.

“They’re not coming,” Jody informs you, handing over the glass of whiskey in her hand. “Caught a case at the last minute.”

“Oh, sure,” you shrug, “I could have handled it if he was here.” The cock of her eyebrow lets you know that she can see right through the facade. Jody is the big sister you always wished you had. There’s no hiding from that all-knowing scrutiny. “Yeah, okay. Whatever.”

“You doing alright?” she prods.

“I’m great. Things are going good.” You are not great. Things are not good. The reality is so far from either of those that you’re unsure where you’d begin to explain. “How’s everyone?”

“We’re good. The girls are excited about seeing you.”

“Of course they are. I’m the cool aunt.”

“You’re the only aunt,” she deadpans.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m still cool.”

As if on cue, Alex and Claire burst into the room, shoving each other and shouting your name, vying for your attention. Taking a large gulp of whiskey, you hand the glass back to Jody just as two sets of arms squeeze you tight in their hold.

A couple of hours later, the bathroom mirror reflects a genuine smile, contentment from being around the ones you love. Exiting the bathroom, you’re stopped in your tracks outside Alex’s room, overhearing your name.

“She looks happy,” Claire states.

“I don’t know. There’s a sadness in her eyes that wasn’t there before.” Alex always seemed to understand you. Relate to you a little better. When you showed up on Jody’s doorstep, physically and mentally exhausted, emotionally devastated, she had been the one to help paste the pieces back together enough for you to function again in the world outside their home.

“Well, I think they’re both a couple of dumbasses. Everyone can see that they belong together. Did you see his reaction last time when Jody told him she wasn’t coming? And she is obviously disappointed that he isn’t here today.” 

Claire’s no slouch at observing people either, and you reluctantly smile at her forthright assessment. You’re curious about his reaction, and though you know you’re wrong for eavesdropping, you silently lean a little closer to the open doorway, hoping to hear more about him.

“Yeah, but they both seem to be moving on. The art business is working out great for her, and he’s still out there putting himself in harm’s way to save the world.”

Does he know about your new business venture? Maybe he believes that you are happier without him. Agitation begins to coil in your chest at Alex’s response, but Claire’s next words cut a broad stroke through your heart.

“She still loves him, though, don’t you think?”

Of course, I do! I can’t just throw a switch and stop.

“I think so. Her poker face is almost as good as his, so it’s hard to tell for sure. I wish she’d talk to us about it.” 

There’s no way I can talk about him. It’s too difficult to explain. It still hurts too much. 

“I bet he still loves her even though he’s being an idiot.”

“I know, but,” Alex’s disgruntled huff reaches your ears, “Sam said he’s back to picking up waitr-”

You need air—an escape. 

Stumbling down the stairs and sprinting toward the front door, you hastily call to the group in the living room that you’re going out for a while. Not waiting for a response, you rush to your car, tires squealing as you pull away from the curb, bound for the lake a few miles from Jody’s. Windows down, wind whipping at your hair, the sequenced pitch of rubber racing over asphalt begins to soothe your troubled mind. Backing up to the edge of the rocky beach, you breathe a shaky sigh of relief, solace seeping through you with the familiarity of your surroundings, your sanctuary.

A swath of emotions threatens to bleed through your pores, but you hold them back until you're lying in the bed of the truck. Staring up at the inky darkness, tears coat and gloss your eyes, turning the view into an image reminiscent of Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

As the months dragged on, you got better at keeping the guilt and desolation hidden, putting on a show for others. A bright smile painted on your face, posing an apathetic demeanor whenever he’s mentioned. Yet, there are still times when you least expect it, caught off guard like tonight, that the hard outline is feathered by grief.

You’d heard tidbits of information about him when running into old acquaintances—laughing, joking, playing pool, the occasional story about him leaving with a beautiful woman draped around him. What you knew, though, that most of them didn’t, was that beneath the cheeky swagger he showed to the world was a compassionate, kind heart steeped in a complex, volatile cocktail of emotions. The person the world saw was only a guise shielding the man you knew and loved.

So you had taken their words with a grain of salt. You’d smile and nod, steer them back to talking about whatever case they were working. They’d eventually ask you to help. If you could, you’d assist with the lore but decline further involvement, telling them, ‘I’m not a hunter.’ As time passed, it became easier to say, but the sting continued to echo.

Hearing about his extracurricular activities with Sam as the source cut deep. It had to be true, then. Didn’t it? Sam was ground zero. Dean had moved on… let you go. Did he even love you anymore?

Colors blend and evanesce, fingers brushing cold metal as you absentmindedly reach for the warmth and security of a hand no longer there. A lost comfort, an intangible ache that lingers on your skin. Fuck, you miss him. You’ve made some pretty questionable decisions over the years, but leaving him ranks the highest. If there were a way to take it all back, you would. Tell him that you were wrong to leave, that you meant all the promises contained in the last words you said to him. You figure he knows on some level. It doesn’t make your choice any easier to accept.

You left him to deal with the never-ending cycle of douchebag demons, dickhead angels, and whatever new monster of the week emerged. Left him alone with the burden of saving the world on top of all the emotional trauma he constantly tries to shove down and hide away.

Hands curling into fists, heated tears whitewash a salty trail to your hairline unabated. There’s no reason to repair the peeling varnish of the facade you painted with no one around to assess the damage. So you let the heartache fade and blur into memories.

“A fireplace.” Rough-skinned fingers traced a path down your spine, palm coming to rest on your hip.

“It takes up half the wall,” a quick nip at his ear, “with a big fluffy rug and lots of pillows. Glass panels on either side to watch the snowfall.”

He laughed, “You’ve been watching too many of those sappy movies again. Not everything is a Hallmark moment.”

“When I’m with you, it feels like it.”

A random conversation that had become a ritual after bad hunts. Sometimes after good ones too, when you were both feeling overly optimistic about the future. The two of you, naked and cuddled close, on a blanket staring up at the stars, in Baby’s backseat, or safe in your bed at the bunker, whispering sweet, healing words and envisioning the home he would build for the two of you post-hunting life. It was a way to escape the horrors of the current day-to-day. Light in the darkness; hope where sometimes it seemingly never existed.

“A chef’s kitchen. Open concept, restaurant grade appliances, butcher’s block, and a marble countertop for rolling out pie dough.”

The sweet scrape of scruff against your flesh and heated breath, “An island I can bend you over and rail you from behind.”

“Wow, what a sweet talker.” You’d kissed him until there were no breaths left to share. Then he’d taken you on the backseat, tender and loving, like you had all the time in the world, replacing whispered words with cries of passion.

Rufus’ old safe house in Montana would be the perfect fixer-upper. By the time you remembered it, it was too late, and you never got the chance to mention it to him. Sam had kept the three of you on a string of hunts until one of them became the final straw for Dean. It had been a bit of a rough one. The witch had nearly succeeded in making you her next sacrifice, but you’d managed to outmaneuver and kill her just as the boys burst into the room. Dean had not been happy. 

Between fuming bouts of silence, you’d argued, for hours, the entire ten-hour drive back to the bunker. Sam was so fed up that Baby was barely parked before he was out, grabbing a set of keys to one of the old cars and driving off without a word to either of you. By the time the two of you reached the bedroom, the fight had come to a head, and the spiteful words cut deep.

“Let’s sleep on it, and we can talk tomorrow.”

“I want you to leave.”

“Fine. I’ll sleep in my old room tonight.”

“No. I want you to pack your things and get out of the bunker. I’m tired of having to rescue you. I’ve got enough on my plate without having to try and keep you from getting yourself killed all the time.”

Anger had instantly flared, “You’re being an asshole! How-,” but as you’d fired back, you caught the flash of torment in his gaze and realized what he was trying to do. Quickly switching tactics, you’d attempted to reason with him. The harsh words thrown back at you had felt like a salt round to the chest at close range.

“...You’re not a hunter. You’re a liability.” 

Dean’s anger was a sight to behold but had never before been directed at you with such force. He’d drawn himself up—arms crossed, stance widened, face an unyielding mask, eyes dark, glare chilling, breath nearly undetectable. For a moment, you wondered if you reached out and touched him, would his skin feel like marble, and an imagined draft of air had prickled your skin.

You’d known he wouldn’t back down once he’d voiced his ultimatum. Struggling under the burden of keeping those he loved alive and out of harm's way, Dean was doing what he did best by trying his damnedest to push you away, believing you would be safer. So you’d let go of the charged words you’d been ready to hurl back and stared him down, uttering the only words that truly mattered.

“I love you.”

The clench of his jaw—rolling muscle beneath stubbled flesh—the singular movement betrayed his vulnerability. You’d thought your words might be enough, but it only made him double down on his determination. He fired one last shot, then walked away. 

You’d heard him pause in the hallway, hoped his resolve would break, and whispered, “Please don’t leave.” As his strides had grown more distant, you’d stared at the space he left behind. 

Standing in the dimly lit room, you'd waited until your legs ached, finally collapsing into a sobbing heap on the bed to wait a bit longer. Exhausted from the hunt, the argument, and with utter despair draining every conscious thought, you’d eventually fallen into a fitful sleep. Waking with a gasp, you frantically searched the room, but there was no sign that he had returned. 

No missed calls or texts lit up your phone when you checked it. It felt like your heart was pumping sludge through your veins, then anger flared, flushing everything loose. How could he leave like that? Say those things to you and then walk out without a backward glance? It didn’t matter that you knew why he did it. The outrage over his callous words ignited a fire in your heart that seared its way through your emotional cortex. 

Debating whether it was best to wait and confront him when he finally returned or give each other some time, you finally shoved a few items of clothing in a bag, figuring you’d be back in a day or two once the dust settled. 

The first step across the bedroom’s threshold felt like stepping off a cliff, a point of no return. As you’d dragged yourself through the bunker, hope had kept you moving forward. Hope that he would be in the garage, sitting in the Impala. You wouldn’t have cared if the fight continued. You’d just wanted to see him there.

When you’d found Baby’s spot empty, muscle memory had been the only thing that kept you upright. Residual shock kept the emotions at bay until you hit the Nebraska state line. You’d found a liquor store and then a motel. Cried, drank, rehashed, dissected every detail that you should have done differently, drank some more, cried again, then drank until your tears were laced with alcohol. 

You knew Dean was afraid of losing someone else he loved, and he did love you. It had been there behind the cold stare and harsh words. He wouldn’t have believed you had forgiven him before he even walked out of the room, but you had. 

Your bout of anger did not negate that forgiveness, knowing that the extreme harshness of his words was proportionate to the feelings he held for you. You hadn’t chased after him for the same reason you had stopped arguing. As much as it hurt, anger and betrayal bleeding through every pore, you’d known there was no point. In that moment, Dean had decided on a course of action and would remain firm. He believed what he was doing would somehow protect you from a hunter’s end, deflect the chaos and darkness of this life, save you… from him.

On the fifth day of radio silence, having eaten nothing but a couple of packages of stale vending machine fare, you’d finally taken a shower, dragged ass to the nearest food source, drank an entire pot of coffee, and downed a huge helping of the greasiest food you could order. After puking up everything you had consumed, you’d ordered a coffee and two bottles of water to go.

You’d believed that regret, guilt… love would somehow, for once, win out over his innate stubbornness, and he would eventually call to apologize. You had been wrong. 

You’d lost count of how many times you’d stopped yourself from calling or texting. You’d rationalized that he needed more time, that if you tried to contact him too soon, you would only make things worse. Deciding it was best to give him space to work through the wealth of emotions you knew he’d be wrestling with, no matter how painful it was for you. So you hauled yourself north, away from the only true home you’d known in years… away from the tormented despair… away from him.

Now you have to face the consequences of your decision. He’s moving on, adjusting to a life without you, and, according to rumors confirmed by a reputable source, finding solace in the arms of another. In an attempt to save your sanity or a matter of self-preservation, you hadn’t let yourself think about him with someone else. 

It hurts like hell, but the blame lies with you as much, if not more so, than him. You told him you loved him but then abandoned him like so many others. You were just as much at fault for letting the months drag on with no contact, no attempt at reconciliation. Caught up in a new life that you only ever wanted to share with him, you realize you had waited too long. 

Too afraid, too ashamed to contact him.

Part Three

#dreams of happiness #rumors part two #dean winchester x fem!reader #dw's witch writes #031723

[cringemesstickles]

To Cheer Up An Angel

Summary: Castiel is in a bad headspace and Sam wants to help.

Pairing: None

Word Count: 1,182

A/N: Anon requested platonic Sam and Cas! This was super fun to write and I definitely have a soft spot for Sam and Cas, both platonic and romantic. 🥹

———————————————————

It was a well known fact that Castiel, the angel of the lord, wasn’t exactly the most relaxed person. Often times when he got stressed, he would turn away help, insisting that he could manage.

Dean would often tell him that he’s worse than Sam.

Today, the angel seemed particularly uneasy. It was as though the world rested upon his shoulders, leaving him worn and jaded.

When Sam walked by one of the bunker’s spare rooms, he spotted Castiel sitting on the edge of the bed, his expression one of solemnity and thoughtfulness, but mostly exhaustion.

“Cas?”

The angel looked up, trying to ease the worry from his features.

“Hello, Sam. I didn’t hear you come in.” He spoke in his usual low, gravelly voice, trying to give a somewhat convincing smile.

However, the youngest Winchester saw straight through the facade, having used the same one countless times.

“Cas, I know that you’re-”

“Sam, I assure you I’m quite alright. There is no need for you to worry.”

Sam’s expression softened, his eyes laced with the exact emotion that Castiel had dismissed. He tilted his head, his brows knitting together as he employed his most powerful weapon…the puppy dog eyes.

He looked deeply at the angel, his big, expressive eyes holding a slight desperation, conveying a silent plea.

“No, Cas, you’re not alright, but that’s okay. Just let me help… please..?”

Cas knows that the moment he looks into those eyes, it’s over, and he tries his hardest to keep his gaze away, but those pleading eyes just sucked him right in.

With a sigh of defeat, Cas properly meets the younger’s gaze, giving in to the puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, I’m not alright. It’s just so much to bear…” He began, Sam giving his full attention.

“The angels, the archangels, the never ending celestial wars… it’s just a lot, that’s all.”

Sam nodded with understanding, then he went silent, thinking of ways he could help relieve at least some of the stress.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up.

“Whenever I’m stressed out, Dean tickles me until I can’t think straight… it always makes me feel better.”

The dark haired angel rose an eyebrow, his face taking on a look of slight nervousness.

“That is very thoughtful, Sam, but I really don’t think it is necessahahary- Sahaham!”

The angel was interrupted by a fit of his own chuckles, Sam’s fingers having crept towards his ribcage while he was talking.

The Winchester’s eyes sparkled with glee at the sound of his friend’s laughter, his fingers making haste in their diligent dance, evoking more lighthearted noises from the angel.

“See? Doesn’t it feel nice to laugh?” Sam smiled, lightly spidering over the angel’s ribs.

“I-I suppose it is rather nihihice…” Admitted Cas, though he couldn’t help but squirm.

Sam’s touch was gentle, filled with love and care, keeping it hard enough to tickle but light enough to not overwhelm.

Castiel could feel the tension being released with each tickle, Sam’s nimble fingers picking apart his worries piece by piece, releasing them through laughter.

Sam went from spot to spot, giddily exploring and finding which spots are best.

“You’re pretty ticklish here… what about here?” He moved his fingers to drag up and down Cas’s sides, bringing forth a yelp and a torrent of titters from the angel, who was starting to squirm more incessantly.

Sam couldn’t help but giggle. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

As Sam’s fingers fluttered and grazed all over the many tickle spots, he could feel the joy radiating from the angel, and he found himself imitating that same joy, giggling along with his friend.

They were almost bouncing off of each other; Sam’s laughter and dimpled smile would make Castiel even happier and laugh even more, Sam in turn replicating the contagious happiness with his own amplified giggles.

The taller man began to brush his fingertips gently over Cas’s neck, eliciting a burst of light titters and even a snort, making Sam’s eyes light up with mischief.

“I didn’t know angels could snort!” He exclaimed, continuing the careful ministrations, picking up the speed only slightly.

“Sahaham! That spot is q-quite tehehender!” The angel giggled, another snort slipping, making him blush with mild embarrassment. He raised his shoulders to try and protect himself, only to find that the defense was futile and simply served to trap Sam’s agile fingers.

“I see that! Your neck is almost as bad as mine, haha!” Teased Sam, his voice soft, carrying a tone of sincerity.

Though the tickling was fun, Castiel was beginning to feel a tad overwhelmed, so he finally called out. “Okay, Sam, enohohough!”

At those words, Sam immediately retracted his hands, allowing the angel some space to breathe.

“Are you okay? Did I go too far?”

The raven haired angel merely shook his head with a grin, catching his breath and releasing the rest of his titters.

“Not at ahahall… I’m quite alright, thanks to you, of course.” He assured, giving the youngest Winchester a grateful smile.

Sam returned the smile with one of his own, nodding warmly.

Once the angel caught his breath, he put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, looking at him with utmost sincerity.

“You are a good friend, Sam. I know you question yourself at times… but don’t ever doubt that you have the purest of intentions. You have a heart of gold, Sam.”

The hunter’s face was a picture of gratitude, touched by the words of his celestial friend.

“Thanks, Cas… that means a lot.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a couple more moments, enjoying each other’s company.

“You wanna go hang out in the kitchen? Dean is making pie.” Sam piped up, watching Cas raise an eyebrow at the statement.

“Since when does Dean make pie?”

Sam chuckled at the angel’s (warranted in Sam’s opinion) confusion.

“Trust me, Cas… I asked the same question.”

Regardless of their skepticism towards Dean’s sudden baking escapade, they migrated to the kitchen to hang out and converse, sharing amused glances whenever Dean would boast about his pie, claiming it was going to be the best pie ever.

“Calm down, Betty Crocker… the last time you tried to make a pie, you nearly blew it up and made a mess in the kitchen.” Sam teased, rolling his eyes at his older brother’s cockiness.

Dean, apron and all, shot his little brother a deadpan expression.

“Watch it, Sammy… don’t make me come over there.”

The angel and the hunter chuckled, looking at each other with charmed expressions.

“Dean, I do not doubt your cooking capabilities… but baking is a diligent process if you want to do it correctly.” Cas critiqued, earning a scoff from the older Winchester.

“Pfft- cooking, baking, what’s the difference? Actually, I’ll tell you the difference… pie!”

Sam and Cas chuckled with pure amusement, endeared by Dean’s typical charm and humor.

Dean didn’t ask how Sam managed to get the angel out of his rut… he was simply content that everyone was happy and smiling, even if it was at the expense of him and his pie.

#mess writes #lee!castiel #lee!cas #ticklish!castiel #ticklish!cas #ler!sam #ler!sammy #supernatural tword content #supernatural tickle fic #supernatural tickling #spn tword content #spn tickle content #spn tickling #spn tickles #spn tickle fic #tickle community #tword content #sfw tickling #tickles #tickle fic #tfb #tickle blog #tickle fic writer

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

And the plot thickens...

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 2904

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Childhood Rivalry, Mention of Murder

-----------------------------------------

Chapter 4

The stay at Bobby’s lasted longer than she thought it would but she wasn’t about to complain. She loved spending time with her Uncle and Sammy. It was Dean who brought out a side of her that she didn’t enjoy. He had attempted two more challenges, one being target practice with a gun at a distance of fifty, seventy-five, and one hundred yards. He was pretty good.

The two of them had a tie for the first distance, but after that, she beat him, which again annoyed him. She knew the difficulty of the challenge but this time, she didn’t say anything, not like with the knife throwing. It was the second challenge she enjoyed more than she thought she would, a “friendly” fight to see who was better. Bobby had supervised, wanting to keep an eye on the kids for that one, knowing it could have easily gotten out of hand. 

Dean hadn’t counted on her being as agile as she was, constantly dodging him, and always finding his weak spots. She would watch him, the way he moved, quickly pinpointing the easiest way to take him down. Maria never hit him, just pinned him to the ground. After the fifth time, Bobby called it. Dean walked away with a sore ego, but that was all. This time, Maria let herself have a smug expression from winning, especially when she got congratulations from Sammy, which really annoyed Dean.

Before any of them knew it, two months had passed from the day they had arrived at Bobby’s. The angel book Maria had snagged the first night she was there was still under her pillow, even though she’d read the whole thing three times. There was something about the book and the information that she was drawn to but no matter how many times she read it, it was like she couldn’t put the pieces of the puzzle together, and no adult she could talk to about it. She’d also read several other books from Bobby’s massive collection but hadn’t been able to find anything else on angels. There weren’t many things that frustrated her, but this whole angel thing was.

It would be another month before the purr of the Impala showed up at Bobby’s, somewhere around early evening. Maria had been in her room, her lessons done for the day as well as her routine. At first, she thought she’d imagined hearing it, but when she heard footsteps outside who were already in the house, she ran out and into the living room, and saw her father and John there.

“Dad!” she exclaimed, running up to him and practically tackling him in a hug.

William laughed and wrapped his arms around her, “Hey munchkin,” he said softly.

John wasn’t nearly as affectionate with Sammy and Dean as her father was with her, but she’d never say anything to him about it, thinking it rude to tell someone how to treat their own children.

“I need some new books, Dad,” she chuckled as she looked up at him.

“Oh? Did you get through everything I left already?” he asked her, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup,” she said proudly, “And Uncle Bobby had to pick some books from his collection. They were very interesting.”

William glanced over at Bobby, “Don’t worry Will, they were at her level,” he said, reassuring his brother-in-law, who nodded, “and that girl is too smart for her own good.”

William glanced down at her, then put his hands on his hips, “Where’s your knife?” he asked.

“Under my pillow, with my gun, but I always keep this one on me,” she answered, pulling out her boot knife, which was also silver.

“That’s my girl,” he said proudly.

“Are you hungry, Pappa?” she asked, tilting her head a bit.

“Starving,” he said, in an exaggerated tone, which made her giggle.

“Then I’ll make dinner,” she said, trying not to giggle again.

He fluffed up her hair, which made her laugh as she wiggled away from him and into the kitchen to make the same meal she’d made the first night she was there, but now, she’d perfected the seasoned fries.

William sat down on the couch opposite side from John and looked over at Bobby, “How did things go?”

“Her and Dean have that rivalry between them, but I think it’s been good for both of them, even if she beat him,” Bobby explained, glancing into the kitchen. The boys were outside being boys at the moment, so he wasn’t worried about them overhearing anything.

“What did they do this time?” John asked.

“Knife throwing, target practice, and a friendly fighting match, which I supervised. That girl, I swear. She’s gonna be one deadly hunter when she’s older,” Bobby said, sighing slightly.

“Have any of her abilities surfaced?” William whispered, not wanting her to hear.

“Not this time. Just the few she already had, like never missing her target, her photogenic memory, and that damned intuition of hers. It’s almost scary how she can put information together the way she does,” Bobby explained, again glancing into the kitchen.

“She really beat Dean in a fighting match?” John asked, trying not to chuckle at the thought.

“Yeah she did, girl pinned that boy five times. Dean walked away with a bruised ego, but that was all. She never even swung at him,” Bobby answered, chuckling quietly.

“Then that would be another one,” William sighed, leaning back and looking at the ceiling, “She can see weaknesses now, damnit.”

“With how slow they’re developing, she probably won’t get anything big till she’s close to an adult or a bit older. Alarra did a good job putting that block in place when she was born Will,” Bobby told him, as softly as he could. He knew Alarra was still a bit of a sore subject.

William looked over at him, “You know, she never grieved. She told me she didn’t want to be sad when she remembered her mom. She only wanted to feel happiness, that was when I picked her up from here after her first visit.”

John and Bobby both raised an eyebrow, “For a five-year-old to think like that, might be a good thing, with what she is,” Bobby suggested.

“Look, Will, I haven’t spent a lot of time with her, but that girl, damn. I’ve never met any kid who is that respectful, disciplined, and still knows how to act like a kid. The way she is with Sammy is something I can’t give him and he needs that. You’ve done a damn good job with her,” John told him.

“I can’t take all the credit,” William smirked slightly, “Alarra helped for the first half of her life so far,” saying her name again almost made his voice break.

Bobby glanced in the kitchen again before he looked back over at William, “Has Zamariel shown back up, since her birth?” he asked quietly.

William sighed and looked down at the floor. It had been ten years since he’d even heard that name spoken out loud, “No, and she goes by Mari. She’s probably in hiding, for what she did. You know they’d kill her and Maria if any of them ever found the two of them, right.”

“Yeah, we know,” Bobby sighed.

Maria was humming to herself as the burgers, bacon, and fries cooked, not paying attention to what the adults were talking about in the living room. This was one meal she had perfected while she’d stayed at her Uncle’s this time and things were getting close to being done. She set the table before she went outside and rang the dinner bell that Bobby had gotten for her during the first week of this particular stay, then headed back into the kitchen. The sound of it surprised William and John, which made Bobby chuckle.

“She asked for a dinner bell so she didn’t have to holler when she was done cooking,” Bobby chuckled, “How could I say no to that?” 

Both John and William practically laughed and then shook their heads a bit before heading into the kitchen. Maria turned to them, spatula in hand, “Nope, go clean up, then you can eat,” she told them, acting almost like a stern mom.

William almost couldn’t contain his laughter at her behavior when the boys burst through the door, making a beeline for the bathroom, causing John to raise an eyebrow as he watched them run by, “What the hell…” he trailed off.

“They know I won’t let them have any unless they clean up first,” Maria said proudly, spatula still in hand.

This time, John laughed hard, a deep sound coming from his core, “Might have to have her around more often. Those two normally aren’t that behaved.”

William looked over at his daughter for a moment, too proud for words. She reminded him so much of her mother, not just in her appearance, but in the way she acted. He smiled slightly, having no clue how to tell her what he was feeling, “I’m proud of you munchkin,” he said softly before he and the other two adults headed to the bathroom to clean up.

Maria smiled, hearing her father’s praise, but she knew there was more to it, even if he couldn’t say it. She could see the pain behind his eyes of something she couldn’t quite understand. She finished up dinner and got it on the table while the five of them washed up, which amused her a bit that they had all done so. It had only taken one good swat with the spatula during her second week there on both Sammy and Dean for them to realize she hadn’t been joking about them not getting anything till they had washed up.

The only two who hadn’t tried this particular meal were her father and John, and both were surprised, “Are you gonna open a restaurant when you grow up?” her father asked her, teasingly of course, knowing she wanted to be a hunter more than anything.

“Dad,” she groaned, rolling her eyes.

He chuckled, “Well, with how good of a cook you are now, it’s an option for you,” he said, a bit encouraging.

“That would be boring,” she replied before eating another french fry.

“Why do you think it would be boring, sis?” Sammy asked, looking over at her, not understanding.

She always thought it was cute when he got curious. He was only eight after all, “Think about it. Stuck in a kitchen, all day, just cooking for strangers who might not even appreciate the effort it takes to make something taste good,” she explained.

The adults watched the interaction between the two, not only amused but also proud, “I guess you’re right when you put it that way,” Sammy said, after thinking about what she’d said.

Dean just rolled his eyes, not even wanting to admit how good dinner tasted. The girl could cook, but that was just a piece of it. She was smart, funny, kind, and above all else, she was annoying as hell to him. He’d gone back to where they had done the knife-throwing challenge almost every day since then, practicing, attempting to hit the target she had hit with ease. He’d gotten better, but it wasn’t nearly as good as she was. Whether either of them knew it, this was the kind of push that Dean had needed for him to gain the skills that he would need later on in life. The only thing he had ever wanted to be was a hunter, like his father, the family business.

John looked over at Bobby, “So, how does clean up after dinner usually work around here?” he asked, curious as to what the routine had become.

“At first, Maria would just clean up, taking care of everything, but in my eyes, that wasn’t fair to her,” he began, glancing at the boys for a moment, “Then, I had the boys do the clean up, no matter how much they protested about it in the beginning.”

Both boys looked down at their plates, not wanting to meet their father’s gaze, which they knew had fallen on them, “Is that so? They gave you a problem about it?” he asked, sounding disappointed in both of them.

Bobby sighed, “Only the first couple of times. When I threatened them with having cereal for dinner while Maria and I ate what she cooked, that’s when their attitudes changed. Even I did clean up a couple of times,” he explained.

“Still, that’s not how I raised the two of them,” John said, still sounding disappointed in their behavior.

Maria felt bad for the boys, even Dean, whom she found utterly annoying most of the time, “Please Uncle John, don’t be mad at them,” she asked as respectfully as she could. He may not have been her blood Uncle, but John and his boys were family to her, no matter how she felt about certain things. She pursed her lips together, wanting to find the right words, “I know that sometimes it takes time, with a new routine. They’ve both been very helpful since then though, even helping set up the table before I finish cooking sometimes.”

John raised an eyebrow as he looked over at her. She never ceased to amaze him, “You make a valid point. Then…” he glanced at his boys again, who had looked up briefly, but then quickly looked back down at their plates, “I’ll let that one slide, this time.”

She could see the relief on both their faces, but at the same time, she saw the glare Dean gave her. Maria looked away and went back to eating, knowing he was mad cause she stuck her neck out for them and even got their father to back off of something he would have given them hell for. For Dean, that was the icing on the cake of reasons why he didn’t like her.

After dinner, the boys cleaned up while Maria did her few night chores while the adults sat in the living room having drinks, talking about the yellow-eyed demon that they still hadn’t found and the trail had gone cold again. 

“Come in Pappa,” Maria said about a half hour later, hearing her father walking on the other side of her door. He hadn’t even had a chance to knock yet.

William stopped dead in his tracks, realizing another of her abilities had surfaced, one Bobby hadn’t seemed to notice. He took a deep breath before he went into her room, “How’d you know it was me?” he asked her.

“I don’t know, I just knew,” she replied as she looked up from the book on her desk.

“How long has that been going on?” he asked her, sitting down on the edge of her bed, which was made neatly.

“Not too long after you dropped me off here this time. Why?” she asked, tilting her head a bit.

“I was just wondering, that’s all,” he replied, and knew he had to find a way to shrug it off, “Does that annoy Dean too?” 

She giggled a little, “Yeah, so I did it as often as possible,” she replied, then frowned a little, “Is that bad, to annoy him on purpose?” she asked.

It was her father’s turn to chuckle, “As long as you don’t make a habit of it or take it too far munchkin.”

That made her feel better as she let out a sigh of relief, “Any luck on finding the demon?” she asked, curiously.

He sighed, “No. The trail went cold again. This one is smarter than any other demon we’ve hunted before.” Maria thought for a moment as she watched her father, “If there were other demon books, maybe I could help with research,” she suggested.

“We’ve been doing research for five years and still haven’t found anything munchkin, not sure where to even look for a more detailed book,” he replied.

She sighed and looked at the floor, “It’s not fair, that there isn’t somewhere that would have a book about a yellow-eyed demon,” she grumbled a little.

William looked away from her and at her door, taking a deep breath through his nose, then let it out slowly, “I’m sure there’s one somewhere, we just haven’t found it yet,” he tried to reassure her. He had kept her away from anything that had to do with the Men of Letters, knowing how curious she was about knowledge and there were things within that that she wasn’t ready to learn yet, not at ten, “We’re heading out in the morning, so pack up tonight.”

“Yes, Pappa,” she replied quietly.

She waited until he left her room before she sighed. She loved hunting but at the same time, she loved being at her Uncle’s as well. At least now she understood a little bit more about Sammy’s struggle and what he was going through. Maria slowly packed up her belongings into her bags. When she got to the book about angels she had stashed under her pillow, she just sat on her bed looking at it as she thumbed the cover. She knew she couldn’t take it with her, not wanting to risk her father finding it in her things, so she decided she’d sneak it back into his collection after the grown-ups had gone to bed.

-----------------------------------------

Chapter 5

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

#supernatural #dean winchester x oc #dean Winchester x femaleoc #nephilim #sam winchester fanfiction #spn fic #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spnfandom #spn #spn au #supernatural series #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #supernatural fandom #supernatural oc #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural au #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #nephilim fanfiction

[winchester-girl67]

Imagine… Stealing Candles For Dean’s Birthday Pie

Pairing: Dean x Sister!reader (platonic)

Square: Impala @supernatural-jackles​

Word Count: 895

Warnings: theft, implied arrest, a little angst, Dean being adorkable, fluff!

A/N: Happy Birthday, Dean! This is just random fluff. Also written for @supernatural-jackles​’ Tell Me a Story bingo. Enjoy!

_____

"I don't wanna talk about it, Dean." You mumbled as you joined him in the Impala. 

You could feel your big brother's eyes boring into you and you huffed out a breath as you buckled up your seat belt. Getting picked up from the police station for shoplifting and having to call Dean to bail you out was the complete opposite of what you were planning for tonight. 

It was supposed to be a surprise and a nice one. 

Dean started the engine so the heat blasted in your face and you could hear the lego pieces, that the three of you shoved through the vents when you were younger, rattling in the wind that warmed your cheeks. There was snow falling heavily on the windshield and the thick silence was cut by the wipers sliding over the glass every few seconds. While you just sat there, in the parking lot, until Dean was calm enough to speak. 

"Dammit, Y/N," he growled and hit the steering wheel with an open palm, "What the hell were you thinking?!" 

You shrugged and sniffled from the brief walk to the car in the cold. The snowflakes in your hair melted and wet the strands so some straggly hairs stuck to your cheeks. 

It was Dean’s birthday and Sam was counting on you to get the candles for the pie he was attempting to make in the motel microwave.

You hung your head and gripped the excess jean material on your thighs, the jeans didn’t fit well, they were Dean’s hand-me-downs. You often got his clothes before Sam since girls matured and grew faster than boys. Then your jeans went to Sam when you grew out of them so you couldn’t cut them to length and instead rolled up each leg so that a heavy cuff sat on top of each boot. Snow always got into the top of the cuff this time of year and soaked through the layers, especially when the heat in the car started to melt it. The tips of your fingers grew numb with the longer and tighter you held the fabric between them. 

If only your father let you run a credit card scam of your own, except he said there was no point because Dean had one and anything you needed you could ask him for. And you were underage so you'd need a fake ID too and the only one of those you had were school IDs. Nobody would believe you were over eighteen anyways. You just turned thirteen, only a year older than little Sammy, and you looked it. 

"It's your birthday," you muttered and side-eyed your brother. "I couldn't afford the stupid candles." 

His expression softened, "You could've asked me. That’s what I’m here for.” 

You shrugged, "Would've ruined the surprise." 

"Y/N, do you really think I had no idea what you and Sam have been planning for the past week? Subtly is not your strong suit, kiddo.” He chuckled. 

"I'm sorry." You shrugged and kicked your boots together, trying to knock off the snow that hadn’t melted into your pant cuffs yet. 

"It's okay,” Dean said and reached over to tousle up your hair. 

You whined and shoved away his arm. Dean laughed at the frown you wore as you fixed your hair. 

“Are you gonna tell dad?” You asked, nervously gripping your jeans again and chewing on your bottom lip. 

You’d seen the amount of trouble Dean had gotten into with John growing up and you didn’t want any of it. You didn’t have the strength Dean had when it came to standing up to him. Except Dean never talked back, he just took all of his soldier up crap and kept going. You didn’t know how he did it. 

He was different when your father was gone, he was lighter and way more fun. He’d joke around and let you get away with almost anything so long as you flashed him a smile. All Dean ever wanted was for you and Sammy to be happy and when you were, so was he.

“Hmmm,” he pretended to think about it as he made you sweat, “Nah, it can be our little secret.” You matched his smirk. “But the next time you kick off your boots in my car, you get last dibs on the shower for a week.” 

“Ew, gross!” You scrunched up your face and pouted. Your brothers always made a mess of the motel bathroom with wet towels thrown everywhere, toothpaste and hair in the sink, not to mention the misadventures of aiming at the toilet. How hard was it really?! Not to mention the amount of times you’d fallen in because they couldn’t grasp the concept of putting the seat back down. “But-“ 

Dean cut you off talking to the Impala and patting the dash, “Sh-sh… It’s okay, Baby, she didn’t mean it.” 

“Are you done, dork?” You tried to hide your amusement and raised your eyebrows at him. 

He snorted and nodded as he shifted the car into drive, “Mhm.” 

“Happy Birthday, Dean.” You said, unbuckling your seat belt and sliding across the bench seat to give him a hug when he stopped at the light. “…You know, I love you. Right?” 

“I know,” Dean sighed into your hair and hugged you back even as the light turned green. “Love you, too, kiddo.” 

_________________________ Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

Forever SPN: @hobby27

Tell Me a Story Bingo: @princessvader15

#tell me a story bingo #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x sister!reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x #spn fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean fluff #spn imagine #dean imagine #spn reader insert #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural reader insert #dean x #supernatural fanfiction

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Pieces

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, John Winchester [Mentioned]

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1494

Summary: Baby please release me, let my heart rest in pieces.

Tags/Warnings: Songfic, Break-Ups, Established Relationship, Long Distance Relationship, Love, Angst, Domestic Dean Winchester, Pre-Canon Timeline, Hurt, Mentions of Injury, Mentions of Death, Fears, Lyrics,  Pieces // Rascal Flatts,

Notes: Dean is my bby boy

SONG LINK // HALLOWEEN MASTERLIST

You could hear him on the phone, talking low enough that whatever he was saying was just unintelligible from the distance you were at, no doubt in an effort not to wake you. As he went quiet you assumed the call had ended and decided it was time to make yourself known and stop loitering. He was pottering around your kitchen, making a sandwich which didn’t surprise you considering he’d almost eaten you out of house and home over the last few days, yet he stopped as you came in, smiling at you for a moment before he went back to his task. You smiled back, moving to take another couple of slices of bread out of the packet so that he could make you one too. He took them without question, allowing you to rest back against the kitchen counter as you watched him.

He looked good this morning, then again he looked good every morning in your opinion. But today there was definitely a marked difference. The black eye he’d been sporting had started to fade, the yellow hue of it blending more with his sun-freckled complexion, and the busted lip he had was now healed – something he had teased was from all the gentle kisses you had laid upon it. At that thought your heart squoze in your chest. Not because of how nauseatingly cute it was but because you were sure that that version of him was going to be gone again soon.

Four days. He’d been here only four days and yet you knew that was the most he’d allow himself to give you before he headed back out on the road, looking for whatever it was that would no doubt have him come back to you bloodied and broken at some point in the future.

You knew it was coming, that he would leave you whether you wanted him to or not. And yet you decided to test the waters anyway as if the answer might be different as you asked, ‘So who was on the phone?’

‘Oh, uh my dad,’ he said clearing his throat and dropping his gaze to the sandwiches on the table in front of him. As his smile faded your suspicions were confirmed, solidified by the sadness that came to his eyes as he looked at you as if he was preparing whatever speech he’d been planning out in preparation for the moment.

‘Yeah?’ you asked, watching as his face flicked again with melancholy.

‘Yeah, he’s uh caught a case down in New Orleans,’ he said, skating around the details as always as if that was going to make it hurt any less.

‘And he wants you to join him right?’ you asked which was finally enough to make him look up at you, offering a sad smile as he did.

‘He uh, needs me to get there asap…is that alright?’ he said and you fought the urge to roll your eyes given it was hardly as if you had any say in the matter.

He was always going to leave that was the way this situation worked. Even if you did work up the nerve and ask him to stay you knew it would never be right. He’d never be happy staying here with you, even if that was what he wanted deep down. That was why he could only ever give himself a few days. A few days of the life he wanted before reality called and he had to leave again. That was the problem. He could grant himself that slice of normality and use it to fuel him until he could come back to you. But it didn’t work like that for you. Whilst your fleeting pockets of time together fuelled him they drained you. They gave you hope, hope that was always yanked away after a few days, replaced by weeks of worrying and fretting about him. Until finally he’d end up on your doorstep again looking more fragile than when he had left.

‘Fine,’ was all you could think to say.

‘Cool,’ he replied before the two of you fell quiet. He finished up your sandwich, popping it on a plate as he sat down at your kitchen table with you following suit. You watched him as he started to eat, taking a sip of the beer you hadn’t noticed he’d gotten out of the fridge even though it was far too early to be drinking. You picked at your sandwich, feeling as uncomfortable to bring up what you wanted to as he had been not five minutes ago. It didn’t take long for him to notice your hesitance, your eyes meeting before you dropped your gaze and said, ‘Actually I’ve been thinking.’

‘Yeah?’ he said taking a swig of his beer though his eyes never left you.

‘Yeah,’ you said quietly finally looking at those hypnotic green eyes, the ones that made your stomach flutter each time they looked at you. Yet now they didn’t make you feel that way, they made you feel sick, the prospect of what you were going to say making your heart hurt.

‘I don’t think you should come back here,’ you said quietly. He looked at you, hurt swirling in his eyes before it disappeared, his jaw tightening as if to stop whatever he wanted to say from coming out.

‘Right,’ he said tightly. It made you nervous as though you needed to tell him why, like he deserved that much at least.

‘I mean don’t get me wrong I love having you here but then you have to go and-’

‘I get it,’ he said flatly the hurt in his voice only spurring you on with the idea that you needed to explain. To tell him it wasn’t his fault, that if things were different want nothing more than for him to stay.

‘Dean,’ you sighed.

‘It’s fine,’ he replied.

‘No, it’s not. None of this is fine!’ you said, shriller than you intended for it to be which you could tell from the way he looked at you panicked. It made tears sting your eyes and you dropped your gaze hoping they wouldn’t spill over.

‘Dean I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this but I can't keep doing it. Every time you go I think I’ll be okay and I tell myself I can do it again but then you show up covered in blood and broken and you let me fix you and then…and then you’re gone again and six weeks go by and it’s all I can think about. All I can do is wonder what you’re out there doing and I think maybe this time is it…maybe he’s not come back yet because he’s dead.’

He closed his eyes at that trying to ignore the guilt that gnawed at him when he heard the way your voice came out strangled and breathless at the thought of losing him. You could feel a sob building inside you, threatening to spill out any moment but you pushed it down, hoping it wouldn’t bubble over, ‘and then…and then you come back again and it starts all over again…I just…I don’t think I can do it again.’

You fell silent, your chest heaving as everything spilt out of you. He didn’t say anything and that only made you feel guiltier even though you knew that there was nothing either of you could say that would make it better because the thing that would fix it for you would ruin him. Like the way this was ruining you.

‘I’m sorry,’ was all you could whisper.

‘Me too,’ Dean agreed, placing his hand on the back of yours, ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

‘I know…and I wish it didn’t,’ you said clasping your hand on his, hoping he wouldn’t blame himself though you knew he would, ‘I wish I was the sort of person who could just love you and I do. I mean I love this when we’re like this…but I can't.’

‘I know,’ he said sadly.

He didn’t say anything then, instead, he pulled from your grasp and started to get rid of his half-eaten sandwich and empty beer bottle. You sat there in silence, allowing him to press a kiss to your temple before he left the room. You didn’t chase after him because you couldn’t make yourself. Because if you did it would only start another cycle of this worrisome hell you were living. It would only break your heart into smaller pieces when he came back or didn’t.

You had to let him go.

I don't wanna see you anymore, I'm just not that strong, I love it when you're here, But I'm better when you're gone.

I'm certain that I've given, And, oh, how you can take, There's no use in you lookin', There's nothin' left for you to break.

Baby, please release me, let my heart rest in pieces.

DEAN TAGS

@caitlin1996

#my writing #Halloween challenge #halloween #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #spn #supernatural fic #spn fic #halloween challenge #pieces #halloween challenge 2023

[valleydean]

Chapter 6 [Read Here]

HEAVYWEIGHT a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) read from beginning | playlist | ko-fi

SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1927. The Golden Age of Boxing. Two years ago, light heavyweight champion Dean Winchester and heavyweight champion Castiel Novak had a secret affair. After a scandal tarnished Cas’ name and stripped him of his title, the two parted ways. Now, with a heavyweight tournament on the horizon, Dean aims to up his weight class so he can compete for the title. He finds unexpected competition when Cas comes out of retirement and returns to New York to fix his reputation. Upon their reunion, the two contenders learn that, outside of the ring, some bruises never really heal.

PREVIEW:

The morning light slanting against the floral wallpaper of the opposite wall was the first thing Castiel saw when he woke up.

The grazed skin on his knuckles had scabbed over in the night and were now radiating with an intense burning. His pulse thrummed in his right cheekbone and eyebrow where they were smooshed against his pillow. His nose was as stiff as plaster. The cut on his lip felt like it was trying to tear his mouth into two as if it was a piece of flimsy tissue paper. When he breathed, his bruised stomach hurt where it was pressed against the mattress.

But he was enveloped in warmth, and the bed he laid upon had never been so comfortable, the blankets never so plush. Dean was laying half on top of him, his naked chest against the small of Castiel’s back, his cheek nestled between Castiel’s shoulder blades. His knee was hooked around Castiel’s calf; and, on the mattress, his arm rested over Castiel’s, palm pressed atop the back of his hand.

All the skin-on-skin contact made Castiel feel sticky and overheated, but he didn’t care. He wanted to stay absolutely the way he was for as long as possible.

Last night had been… unexpected, to say the least. Some parts were much better than others. In his half-awake state, Castiel almost convinced himself it was a dream.

As gently as he could, he lifted his head and tried to look over his shoulder. In the corner of his eye, Dean was still sleeping soundly.

He wanted to turn over, to put Dean’s head on his chest and watch him sleep, but he wouldn’t dare move. He was terrified it would wake Dean up—and then, Castiel didn’t know what would happen. Would Dean regret last night? Would he pull away from Castiel? There had been so much distance between them for so long, and Castiel missed him so very much. He wanted to stay close, back to chest.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before Dean grunted.

Castiel’s heart seized. He put his head back down, not wanting to be caught. Maybe, if he pretended he was still asleep, he wouldn’t have to meet Dean’s regret and aggression. Maybe Dean would slip out silently and leave Castiel to nurse his wounds both inside and out. His pulse slammed against his chest, and he feared Dean could hear it with his ear pressed to Castiel’s back.

Dean inhaled audibly through his nose, waking up fully.

Castiel felt him tense. Instantly, sorrow flooded his gut.

But then it all drained away when Dean’s palm pressed down fully against his hand and he twined their fingers together.

Castiel’s eyes were wide open. He tried to bite down on a smile, but it was difficult to do, especially when Dean nuzzled his nose against his shoulder.

Dean dropped a kiss there, and then another an inch away. Castiel felt the words forming against his skin when Dean said, “I know you’re awake.”

Castiel couldn’t help it. He smiled.

“You don’t breathe like that when you’re sleeping,” Dean told him. Castiel had no idea what he was talking about, but it hardly seemed important.

He got a hold of his expression before detangling their limbs and rolling over to face Dean. The linens rustled. Dean rolled onto his side and draped his arm over Castiel’s ribs when Castiel settled. Purpling bruises were blotched against his freckles. Scabs smattered his temple and jaw. He looked as delicate as porcelain like that, like something Castiel wanted to put on a shelf so no one would ever shatter him.

Castiel admired the hollow of Dean’s collarbone and the rounded muscles of his shoulder peeking out above the blanket before glancing back up. Dean’s green eyes stared back at him. He appeared well-rested. Castiel was glad.

“Good morning, Dean.”

A sleepy smile formed on Dean’s lips. “Hey.” His fingertips skimmed Castiel’s skin. Beneath the covers, their feet brushed. Castiel’s stomach fluttered.

“How are you feeling?” Castiel asked, eyeing Dean’s bruises and cuts, sorry that he had any part in inflicting them.

Dean closed his eyes tiredly, his lashes fanning out like sun rays. “Like I got run over by a truck. How ‘bout you? About the same?”

Again, Castiel found himself trying not to smile. “About the same.”

Dean chuckled, and it was infectious. Castiel was still grinning when Dean blinked his eyes open again.

Castiel was so in love with him.

“Bet I know a way to make it better,” Dean said.

It only made Castiel beam more, despite the way the cut on his lip stretched. He played along, “Do you?”

Dean hummed and leaned in, eyes once again closed. As Dean slotted their mouths together, Castiel watched him in the close proximity for a moment before closing his eyes too and kissing back. It was a tender kiss. Castiel had almost forgotten how gentle Dean could be.

/////

TAGGED: @lovercas @donestiel @wanderingcas @wayward-angels-club @thetiredstuff @skella-bro @casthegrumpy @celestialcastiel @bluefirecas @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @that-one-fandom-chick @haru-park96 @alejandriaiqq @no-aesthetic-all-aethetic @amirosebooks @epple-benene @agus-likes @the-ship-haz-sailed @justkissalreadyforfucksake @madimoo31 @an-angel-in-love-with-a-hunter @gracelesstars @bazghetti @wayward-waffles @theojaxons @jenmishrob @all-or-nothing-baby @auttownblue @leftistdean @sargafust @wannabe-loser @jessalrynn @splicedthoughts @castielss @that-dumbass-on-a-horse @passionfruixts @fabreagab @princesswinchester100 @superduckbatrebel @hopefuldreamers-world@theangelwiththewormstache @casandeans @mylovelydame21 @confusedisaster @superduckbatrebel @destielwentcanonomg @highest-brightness @i-put-the-ayyy-in-asexual @darkacademiagay @imthedoctorlove @freckledean @youcanteverknowenough @chicken-kebabs @myguardianangelisatrickster @hotactiongirlcoded @wingsandimpalas @casandhumanity @tploz @dontsgotalifee389 @on-a-bender @castiel-mybeloved @siriusseverusdeservedbetter @doctorprofessorsong @castielshotgirlsummer @toomuchheartcas @paintdriesfaster @lesbiancowboyy @angelinthefire @transdeantruther @fluffy-alpacaness @rogue-cas-whore @winchester-derangement-syndrome @lizzybennettdarcy @kineticpassion @i-love-books-and-so-do-you @dascean @llamasdumpsterfire @psychicbouquetblaze-stuff @im-some-lionheart @charlie-bradburi @bunnymcbunnister @gothanna @afeelingsosweet @sinnabonka @artsymoth @cassandrablah @sweetpeaalena @goiwantamuffin @rauko-is-a-free-elf @jessalrynn @ungcl @highwarlockofinnsbruck @deancaskiss @caddy-coo @bloodydeanwinchester @hannibalsthembo @proudpigeon @butterscotchdean @this-is-me19 @layofcastiel @claire-drinks-lovely-lemonade @harleycao @jgvfhl @thembo-cowboy @aussie-twat @slit-wrist @ilikemanythingsespeciallyyou

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