#they stayed at a motel for the night and in the morning she takes dean out to the car. he’s 3.

[soupernatural]

mary took dean for his first drive in the impala. he was soooo small but she held him in her lap and let him wrap his little fingers around the wheel and kick at her legs instead of the gas pedal. he laughed and laughed. she thought “hey, maybe i can do this.”

#and she never tells john. #mary found out she was pregnant with sam and grabbed dean and hopped in the impala and she ran. #they stayed at a motel for the night and in the morning she takes dean out to the car. he’s 3. #mary is not normal about anything including bonding with her toddler son. #marynatural #mary.txt

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Comfort Crowd

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: dean just needs you next to him

pairing: (stanford era) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language 

word count: 1.9k

warnings: hurt/sad dean, language, reader drives after drinking but she’s not drunk, that’s it i think

author’s note: i know this gif is of jason teague and not dean winchester but that’s literally samford era jackles so i think it fits perfectly <3

music: comfort crowd by conan gray — was listening to conan gray and bam! dean winchester fic idea! anyways…

When you saw who was calling your brows furrowed — Dean? You had talked to him earlier in the week, just a casual check-in to make sure you were both still alive. You and Dean had gotten into a fight about a month prior and you both decided to just take a break from each other. You had made it clear that you were not breaking up with him, you just needed a break.

Last time you talked he was working a case in Texas, something with ghouls and sororities. You had just finished up a werewolf hunt and he had voiced his jealousy. He hadn’t gotten to fight a werewolf in many, many moons (pun intended).

“Dean?” you answered the call, still holding your first beer of the night in your free hand. He didn’t say anything, there was only labored breathing on the other side and that worried you. “Dean? Honey, is everything okay?” He still said nothing. “Dean, what’s—”

“Where are you?” he asked. His voice was clearly on the verge of cracking. He’d been crying?

“Uh, Bakersfield California,” you told him. “Just finished another case, simple ghost hunt. What’s wrong, Dean?” He again went back to just breathing. “Dean, where are you?”

“I’m in Palo Alto,” he said. “You—Could you get up here, p-please? I need you, hun. I just—I need you here.”

“I’ll be right there Dean, four hours tops,” you told him. You stood up off your chair and paid your tab. “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t…fuck, I just wanna see you…please?”

“Of course, Dean, I’ll be there soon,” you reminded him. “What motel are you staying at?”

“I can text you the address just please…please hurry.”

With that, he hung up. 

Please don’t be dying, you thought to yourself. 

**

After several traffic violations and broken speed limits, you were finally knocking on his door.

“Dean!” you called out, not caring if it was now nearly three in the morning and there were definitely other people staying at the motel. “For the love of god Dean, open the fucking door!”

He unlocked and opened the door, rubbing his tired eyes. “Hey, you made it.” He smiled a little…smiled?

“Dean what the hell is going on?” you asked, trying to stay calm as you walked into the room. “You—That call? What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “I’m fine.”

“Fine?” You furrowed your brows. “Dean you called me in tears and asked me to race over here as if you were dying?”

“I…I wasn’t in tears,” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hang on…how do I know you’re you?” you asked. 

He smiled and rolled his eyes a little before you both did the usual tests.

“See, sweetheart? All me!” He smiled again.

“Dean,” you said softly, “what’s going on? Are you…Are you dying?”

“No!” he scoffed, not calming your nerves in the slightest. “I’m sorry I scared you I just…needed you here. With me, next to me. I—Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Dean,” you shook your head, “I get it.”

You walked over to him and pulled him down into a hug; your right hand went to the back of his head as your fingers combed through his hair. 

“I’m here Dean, you’re okay,” you told him. His grip tightened around you, as if he was scared you’d break off the hug. “I’m right here.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking again. “Thank you.” 

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. You were on your tiptoes, which was kind of uncomfortable, but your love for the man in your arms outweighed any discomfort. You felt Dean’s tears begin to dampen your neck and your eyes grew cloudy at the thought of him in pain. He truly mastered the art of silent crying, he must’ve had to hide his tears from that bastard father of his growing up, and that thought only made your heart break more. Your grip tightened around his shoulders and you turned your head so you could place a soft kiss on his temple. You made a trail of kisses down to his jawline then left your lips there against his skin. 

“Thank you,” he pulled away, “just…thanks.”

“Do you wanna lay down, Dean?” you asked. “We could cuddle up and maybe watch a movie? Or we could listen to music? I’ve got my iPod and we could share my earbuds?”

A soft smile returned to his tear-stained face and he nodded; “Music sounds perfect.”

“Mkay,” you replied. “Now, I have to admit I don’t have many Zeppelin songs downloaded—”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head, “I don’t care what song we play, as long…as long as you’re here. Just need your company.”

“Funnily enough, I do have some Bad Company songs,” you joked, causing his smile to grow. 

“You’re the best company,” he countered. 

“Why don’t you change into your PJs while I go get my bags from the car? We can get comfortable in the bed and maybe you’ll even get some sleep.”

**

Your fingers were once again tangled in Dean’s hair as his head lay on your chest, he was facing away from you but you knew he was still crying. You just didn’t know why.

“Is this Heuy Lewis?” Dean chuckled.

“Hey! No disrespecting Heuy!” you laughed, but Dean knew you were serious. “You want me to skip it?”

“Nah, I’ll live,” he joked. The joke made your heart clench a little though; your mind going back to the call he made to you a mere few hours ago. How scared he sounded. How scared you were as you raced to get to him. Dean must’ve sensed the change in the room because he made sure to remind you; “I’m fine.”

“You said that line already, Dean,” you said through a sigh. “I’m here if you wanna talk, okay?”

“I don’t wanna talk,” he mumbled. “I meant what I said—I just need you here with me, I just need you around.” 

Your free hand (the one that wasn’t currently in Dean’s hair) went to rub comforting circles on his upper back. He let out a contented sigh which made you smile.

“I love you, Dean,” you told him. “I love you more than anything, you know that, right?”

“Thank you,” he mumbled. He buried his face against your chest, trying to hide the sheepish smile forcing its way onto his face before he lifted his head so he could look into your eyes. “I love you so much.”

He leaned over and kissed you softly, his smile connecting with yours. He pulled away after a moment, simply looking into your eyes. He kissed you once more before laying back down, this time resting his head next to yours so he could kiss you again. 

“Sorry about your shirt,” he said, laughing awkwardly at the damp mess of spilled tears covering a fair portion of your tee.

“I don’t mind, kinda like my shirt soggy,” you shrugged with a smile, pulling him closer to you and tucking your head under his chin. 

**

When you woke the next morning you did not expect Dean to be singing to himself while making breakfast.

“What time is it?” you asked with a yawn as you sat up in bed. 

“About seven,” he replied. “Good morning, by the way.”

“Good morning.”

You hurried over to the small kitchen so you could wrap your arms around him from behind.

“What’s gotten into you?” he teased. 

“Could ask you the same question, handsome,” you replied, not letting go. “The food smells amazing and all, but since when do you cook?”

“Remember that fight we had?”

“I vaguely recall,” you said, somewhat flatly. 

“I’ve been working on my breakfast cooking so when I saw you again I could you know…woo you.”

“‘Woo me’?” You raised a brow, your smile growing. “You’re wooing me…with bacon?”

“Damn right!” he scoffed lightheartedly. “I know the way into your heart, and whether you admit it or not—it’s mother fuckin’ breakfast food.”

“You know me way too well,” you laughed. “I’m officially wooed.”

There was a comfortable silence before Dean answered the question he knew you were still wondering about; “Sam and I fought last night.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“I knew him going to a fancy college would put a bit of a rift between us…but fuck, sweetheart,” he said. He ran his hands down his face before he leaned against the counter and looked at you; “I think we…I don’t think Sammy and I will ever be as close as we were growin’ up ever again.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Dean,” you assured him, placing a hand on his bicep and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Sammy just needs time, maybe a bit of space, but that’s only temporary, Dean.”

“Seems like everyone around me always needs space,” he chuckled humorously. 

“If this is about what I said—”

“Nah, you don’t have to explain yourself, I get it!” He shook his head, faking a smile. “You couldn’t stand being around me all the time and hey, that’s okay.”

Your brows furrowed with slight anger; “That’s not what I said, Dean.”

“That’s what it sounded like,” he mumbled before he turned back to the stove to continue making breakfast. 

“Dean I love you, you know I love you!” you said. “I raced here last night when you asked me to, doesn’t that prove I love you!?”

“And what happens when we get into another fight?” he exclaimed. “What happens when you decide that you need more space and you don’t bother coming back to me?”

“That’s not going to happen?” you countered. 

“You can’t say that for sure,” Dean said. 

“Yes I can, Dean!”

“What makes you think that, huh?” he replied loudly. “What makes you think you aren’t gonna run the second you realize that putting space between was the best decision of your fucking life!?”

“Because I love you, Dean!” you said, matching his tone. “Because no matter how far away I was from you the one thought running through my head was that I should call you. That I should stop being so stubborn and run back to you.” You sighed as he continued cooking and you went up to him again, leaning on his bicep and running your hands up and down his forearm. “Because when I got that call…all logic flew out the window and all that mattered to me was getting to you. When I thought you might be dying I didn’t care about anything else and I raced to you like a mad woman. Like a girl so lovestruck she’s practically crazy!”

Dean let out a chuckle which made you smile.

“So…you’re sayin’ you missed me?” he asked, a cocky smirk finding its way to his lips.

“Yes,” you sighed dramatically. “Okay? Yes, Dean, I missed you like fuckin’ crazy, and I’m sorry for ever suggesting we take a damn break. But… you know what this means now, right?”

He looked at you cautiously; “What?”

“You’re stuck with me, Winchester.” You grinned. “And I’m never letting you go again.”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied as he leaned down and kissed you.

#dean winchester x reader #spn #dean x reader #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fic #dean x you #dean winchester #dean winchester x female!reader #by jean #by mind empty just fictional people

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Tequila

Summary: Tequila has a lot to answer for when Y/N wakes up naked in Dean’s bed, but once the shock wears off, she realises that maybe it’s not such a bad thing.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of smut, angst, fluff, feelings, friends to lovers

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Another December Drabble for you all to enjoy!

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Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

The sun streams through the motel’s threadbare curtains, rudely awakening you from a deep, drunken sleep. Your head is pounding, and there’s a ringing in your ears that comes with the vague memory of the loud music playing at the bar last night.

It’d been a hard hunt to stomach: Lamia, a child-eating demon, had decided to take up residence in Grangeville, Idaho, and once you’d blasted her ass back to hell, you and Dean really, really needed to let off a lot of steam.

Luckily, there was a dive bar next door to the motel, so neither of you had to stay sober enough to drive home, and you’d both been well and truly shit-faced. You’d hustled a small fortune playing pool; he’d sung karaoke, and there were tequila shots… lots and lots of tequila shots.

A snore from behind you made you freeze. It sounded like Dean, but that couldn’t be right. Why would you and Dean be in the same bed? Whoever it was rolled over and slid their arm over your waist, pulling you into their body. You could feel something hard poke the back of your thigh… at least he’s packing, you thought before the mystery man spoke.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Suddenly, the whole night’s events come flooding back to you at once.

One tequila shot turned into two. Two turned to four. Four turned to six, and before you knew it, you were stumbling through the door to Dean’s room, lips attached to his, nails raking through his hair and over his scalp and neck, tongues dancing a passionate tango while your clothes flew in every direction.

Dean made love to you so deliciously good. He was sweet and gentle at times. Rough and hard when you needed it. In all the years you’d known him, this was the first time you’d ended up in his bed, yet he knew your body better than you did. 

The green-eyed hunter had known how to pleasure you better than anyone had before him. Touching places no one had ever touched before. Taking you higher than you’d ever been, making you scream his name so loud the occupant next door had banged the wall.

It’s overwhelming, and you can feel last night’s alcohol swirl dangerously in your stomach, threatening to make an appearance. You lifted the covers and glanced down. Yep, definitely naked.

Pulling the sheet tighter to your body, you cautiously turn around, your worst fear confirmed as Dean’s twinkling green orbs and cocky smirk greet you.

“Well, this changes things!” he grins, and you can’t decide if you want to punch his painfully beautiful face or kiss him.

“Oh, God!” you gasp, covering your face with your hands. “This can’t be happening.”

“Y/N?” Dean asks, concern evident in his voice. “You okay?”

“I can’t believe I did you—I mean that. I can’t believe I did that,” you mumble.

“Come on, don’t be like that! We had a great time. I got you off six times, sweetheart! That’s a personal record for me!”

Dean’s words are meant to be comforting, but they do the opposite and only embarrass you more. The urge to kiss him is gone, leaving you wanting to punch his painfully beautiful, smug face.

“Seriously, Y/N, are you okay? Did I hurt you in any way? Did you not want that to happen? Because I gotta say, you were all over me at the bar, and I get that we had a lot of tequila and were drunk, but I thought you wanted me, too?”

Now that Dean had put his cocky persona aside and the real Dean was in the room, you’d changed your mind again and wanted to kiss him.

“No, Dean. I wanted it to happen. I have for an embarrassingly long time. What I don’t want is to be just another notch on your bedpost. It’s why I’ve never given in to your very persuasive charms over the years. Because I want to be more than just one night to you. And I know that’s not what you want—”

“Woah, Y/N, slow down!” Dean shot up on the bed and turned you to face him. “Did you not hear me when I said this changes things? Do you honestly think I’d risk what we have for one night? I’ve wanted you since the day we met, and last night was the first time since we met that you’ve shown any interest in me. And sweetheart, I haven’t been shy in pulling out my best moves for you.” His words and body language are so expressive and genuine, and you know he’s not feeding you a line. He likes you and he’s wanted you for a long time. All of his flirting and come-ons were real.

“And I thought ‘this is it. I finally get to call her my girl’. Maybe I shouldn’t have followed through with it when we were drunk, but I don’t regret taking my chance with you. Please tell me you don’t regret what happened.” Dean cups your cheeks to keep your gaze on his. The pain crossing his features breaks your heart. You want to tell him you feel the same way, but it’s risky.

“Honestly, I don’t remember much from last night, just bits and pieces, but I know enough to know that if that happened, I wanted it to happen,” you say, trying to ignore the look of Dean’s disappointment at your lack of memory from the night before.

“Do you really want me?” you ask, terrified this was a tequila-induced dream.

“Since the day I met you. And if you’re interested, I’d like to see where we’d go. Together. As a couple.” For once, Dean looks incredibly shy and vulnerable, making your heart swell.

“I’d like that too, De,” you smile, giggling when he grins boyishly.

“Yeah?” he checks, and you nod.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

“Then, I think you should lay back and let me refresh your memory of last night,” Dean grins as he gently pushes you back down on the mattress and pulls your legs apart.

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#tequila #december drabbles #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Princess

John Winchester x daughter!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: a few one shots of you growing up with John as your father.

Warnings: mentions of blood, honestly it’s 80% fluff

John was used to fear. He woke up every morning with it, stronger each day it seemed, fear that the fate that had befallen his wife would come to his children. He was used to fear of the dark, and of what was truly hiding in it. He was certainly used to fearing for his life.

But this was a different kind of fear. When the woman that he had gone out with for a while about a year ago knocked on his door, and handed him the smallest baby he’d ever seen, all wrapped up in a pink blanket, John knew a new fear. When that same woman turned on her heel, got in her car, and drove away, that fear turned into panic.

“Hey!” He called out. “You can’t just-“

But the car was gone, and all his shouting had done was startle you awake. The bundle in his hands shifted, and you began to cry.

“Hey, shh,” he rocked you gently from side to side, his attention fully on you. “Don’t cry, princess. It’s going to be ok.”

…

“Hey princess,” John’s voice was thick with exhaustion as he slumped into the motel room. “Why aren’t you asleep?” He spotted his teenage sons splayed out on the two beds, dead asleep.

“I was,” six-year-old you yawned, tugging on John’s leg. He lifted you into his arms, and you continued. “But I waked up, and I wanted to wait for you.”

“Alright,” John collapsed onto the small couch, cradling your head in one hand as he attempted to lean back comfortably on his makeshift bed. “Well, it’s late, so try to get back to sleep alright?”

“Ok,” you yawned again, tucking your head under his chin while he covered the both of you in his jacket.

You were fast asleep within minutes, and your steady breathing and strong heartbeat comforted John as he closed his eyes, trying to erase the vivid memories of the terror he’d seen that night.

“Good night princess,” John gently kissed the top of your head, before finally falling into a deep sleep.

…

John had a tendency to react to fear with sternness. If one of his kids messed up on a hunt, it was just time to train that much harder. If a new monster was found, they stayed up all night, all week if they had to, finding out everything about it. Danger meant that he needed to prepare his kids, and to do that, sometimes he needed to shut off “dad” and turn on “drill sergeant”.

But not tonight. Tonight was…

Different.

“Me and Sammy are gonna stop at the bar for a bit, you going back to the motel?” Dean was eyeing you as he spoke to John.

“Yeah, I’m gonna take her home,” John mumbled.

“Give me a call if you need anything,” John could tell that Dean was stalling, wanting to remain with you but also sensing that John wanted time alone with you.

“I will,” John assured him. “She’s gonna be alright.”

John arrived at the motel with you a few awkwardly silent minutes later. He led you inside, a hand at the small of your back, and he could feel you trembling. Without a word, you stepped into the bathroom and turned on the sink water. John watched as you scrubbed at your hands, and you spend a few minutes in a futile attempt to clean the blood off of them.

Your scrubbing became more desperate, and John jumped up in alarm when you began to sob, scratching frantically at your arms and hands.

“Hey hey, stop that!” John took your hands in his.

“It-it won’t come off,” you sobbed, staring down at your blood-stained arms.

John stared down at you, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You looked so small, hunched in on yourself, and so fragile as you cried and rubbed at your arms.

He couldn’t believe he’d thought you were ready for your first hunt. He couldn’t believe he’d taken you out into the world of monsters and demons and expected you to kill them. If Dean had performed that badly on a hunt, John would’ve had him back in basic training in an instant—after severely chewing him out. If Sam had cowered from the werewolf the way you had, John would’ve made him stay up the whole night training, and doubled his shooting practice for the rest of the month.

But right here, right now, looking down at the crying girl in front of him…

He couldn’t. He couldn’t find it in him to scold you, or place a gun in your small hands, or demand that you pick up your machete and practice with it. He couldn’t find it in him to force you to defend yourself, because he never wanted you to have to.

He wanted to defend you. He wanted to protect you from every evil in the world, he didn’t want you to have to protect yourself.

“Commere princess,” John pulled you tightly into his arms, cradling your head like he’d done when you were a baby. “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

“I’m sorry,” you weren’t completely sobbing anymore, but the tears were still flowing, and he felt you take a shaky breath. “I know I screwed it all up.”

“Hey, hey,” John pulled back slightly, brushing your hair from your face and trying not to cringe when he noticed the dried blood plastering it in place. “You shouldn’t have been out there, you weren’t ready.” It was true that you had done abhorrently on the hunt, and John wasn’t going to lie and say otherwise; he hadn’t gone that soft. But he also wasn’t going to blame you, because he blamed himself for this.

“I just, I-I couldn’t remember what to do, and-and I got so scared-“ your breathing was becoming more labored once again, and John took hold of the back of your head, pushing you against him in an attempt to calm you down.

“Shh, princess you’re ok now. You’re safe now, nothing’s gonna happen. I don’t blame you, ok? I don’t. and I’m going to keep you safe, I promise.”

John knew that he was going to have to tighten up on your training if you were going to survive in this crazy world. But for tonight, he was going to turn off his “drill sergeant” and turn on “dad”, because when he saw his little princess almost get killed by a werewolf, he lost all ability to do anything but hold you tight, and shelter you from every danger that he hadn’t been able to shelter the rest of his family from.

…

“Dad?”

A heavy sigh escaped John’s lips as he set his beer bottle down with a clump.

“You should be in bed.”

“Did he really leave? For good?” One look into John’s despair-filled eyes was all the answer you needed.

“Princess, go to bed.”

You stepped up to where John was sitting, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Dad, I’m sorry.”

“I told you to go to bed,” John ordered, but his voice was soft and noncommittal, and you didn’t miss the way his arms came up to wrap around you in return.

Neither of you knew how long you stayed that way, unwilling to let go. But eventually, Dean came out and found you, and he managed to coerce you into letting go of your father and coming to bed, John following just behind.

The three of you slept fitfully that night, but despite that, there was a tiny comfort in knowing that there was some family that would never leave.

…

You hadn’t spoken a word in days. Dean knew why, but he was powerless to bring you out of your own head. He didn’t blame you for how you reacted; you out of all of them had seemed the closest to John, in your own way. No one could calm or comfort you like he could, and vice versa.

But John wasn’t around to comfort you anymore.

“You know,” Dean began softly as he sat down next to you on the motel bed. “Dad was the one who named you.” A smile played on Dean’s face as he reminisced. “When your mom dropped you off with him, she didn’t give him a name or anything. For nearly two weeks, dad carried you around with no idea what to call you. He mostly stuck with a nickname, until one day he stepped away from your cart in the store, and you started crying. Then this little old lady comes up and holds you, calms you down, and when dad tries to take you back she gets all suspicious. She didn’t think you were really dad’s, and so she says ‘well if she really is yours, what’s her name?’ And dad just panics, and he sees this name tag on a passing clerk and he just blurts out the name on it. He yells, ‘Y/N!’ And you just played along, looking right up at him with your big blue eyes and giggling and reaching for him. So the lady gives you back, and Y/N just kinda stuck.”

The room was silent for a long moment, Dean looking down at you while you mulled over his story.

“What was the nickname?” Your whisper surprised Dean.

“What?”

“You said he called me by a nickname for two weeks. What was the nickname.”

At this, a grin spread across Dean’s face.

“He always called you his princess.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean and sam #dean winchester x you #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #winchesters x reader #john winchester #winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #john winchester x reader #john winchester x daughter!reader

[octoberclidan]

I'm Not Going Anywhere

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Request: Could you do a Dean x reader, where the reader is seriously injured on a hunt. She and Dean never really got along before, always bickering with the other. But she sees a whole other side to him, freaking out and concerned. Insisting on helping clean her up after the hunt? You’re seriously my favorite author ❤️

Masterlist

Story

[Y/N] and Dean Winchester did not get along. They didn't consider each other friends. To her, he was her best friend's grumpy older brother. To him, she was his little brother's annoying best friend. They just had a lot of friction whenever they were in the same place at the same time, and had for years. She didn't live far from the boys, and Sam would often invite her to the bunker for movie nights, food, research, or just to hang out. Nearly every time, Dean would either stay in his room the whole time, or make an excuse to go out somewhere. On the rare occasion that he would stick around, like he had to several months ago for Sam's birthday dinner, they bickered. Nothing big ever happened between them to make them dislike each other, they just had very different personalities. [Y/N] didn't like how closed off Dean was, or how he constantly sacrificed himself for Sam. She knew how much it affected Sam every time Dean threw himself in danger without just taking some time out to think. He was too impulsive, and never listened, or even asked for the advice of those around him.

Dean didn't like [Y/N]'s positive attitude. She always assumed they would win fights, that everything would work out fine, and he felt that this attitude meant she could be pretty careless on hunts. She had never faced monsters as bad as the Winchesters had. Sure, he had seen her take down werewolves and vampires, ghosts and ghouls, even a demon or two. She had never fought against an angel though, never mind Lucifer himself. She had never had to deal with an apocalypse, or God himself working against her. He felt like her carelessness would eventually end up with her dead. He also worried that her carelessness would eventually lead to Sam being hurt. He never approved of Sam going on cases with her for this reason.

[Y/N] was relaxing on her couch in her little apartment, a blanket on her lap, reading through a novel she'd picked up that morning. She'd had a self-care day; a nice walk, stopped by her favourite cafe in town followed by a little trip to her favourite book store, ordered take out from her favourite restaurant, then spent an hour with candles lit in a hot bubble bath. She was really getting into the story when her phone rang and pulled her out of it. Grabbing her phone, she saw that Sam was calling her, and she answered immediately.

"Hey Sam, what's up?"

"Hey, is now a good time? I have a favour to ask".

"Yeah sure, what is it?"

"I need you to go on a case with Dean". [Y/N] exhaled heavily and closed her book, setting it down beside her and sitting up straight.

"Why?" She asked.

"Well, he found this case and he won't pass it over to another hunter, he's insisting on going".

"I thought neither of you were going to look for cases while your leg was still healing from that shifter case last week?"

"He came across it by accident, or at least he claims to have. Look, I can't go with him with my leg, I still can't walk on it properly. It sounds like a werewolf, there were two victims last week found with missing hearts. Can you please go with him? No one else is free and he said he'll go on his own if I can't find someone to join him".

[Y/N] sighed before answering. "How far away is it?"

"Two days?" She could imagine his grimace as he said this. Two days in a car with just Dean, which also meant having to stop somewhere and spend the night, and she definitely wasn't willing to spend money on an entire motel room just for herself on a hunt that she didn't want to go on.

"You're paying for my room. And you owe me one. No, make that two. You owe me two".

"Thank you. Thank you [Y/N], you're the best. He'll pick you up from your place in the morning, okay? Probably 7am".

"Fine"

"I'll see you when you're back, keep me updated".

"Yeah yeah, okay. Night Sam".

"Goodnight [Y/N]". With that, she hung up the phone. Putting her book on the table in front of her, she pushed back her blanket and stood up; self-care day was over. She packed her hunting bag and left it by her front door, and set out her clothes for the morning before getting into bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

***

Just before 7am, [Y/N] locked up and left her apartment, heading out to see if Dean was there yet. Spotting the Impala when she walked around the corner, she felt apprehension and took a deep breath before walking up to the driver's side. She knocked on the window and Dean looked up, and she didn't miss him rolling his eyes, when he nodded to the seat beside him. Walking around the car, she opened up the passenger seat and slid in beside him. "Morning". She said, but he just nodded and pulled away from the kerb. Several minutes in, she tried to make conversation again. "How's Sam's leg?'

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" He asked, not really paying attention to her as he was changing lanes. Trying not to let him get on her nerves too early, she took a deep breath and tried again.

"How far are we driving today?"

"About 14 hours. We'll be driving through a small town around 12pm, we can stop then for a quick lunch. There's another town a few hours after that where we can make a quick stop if we need. Should get to the motel by 10pm. We'll probably be doing another 9 hours or so tomorrow but I have a timeslot booked with the coroner's office for 4pm so we'll have to leave pretty early in the morning".

"Right, well that's a lot of driving. Are we taking turns?" Dean scoffed at this suggestion and glanced at her as if she'd grown an extra head.

"No way in hell are you ever driving my Baby". He shook his head.

"Dean, we can't do this case separately, we have to be a team".

"We can do the whole teamwork thing when we get there, not a second before. Now, shut your cakehole, I need my music to concentrate". He turned up the volume of the cassette tape that was playing, and [Y/N] decided it was best not to push him any further this early on in the day. She pulled up the hood of her hoodie and folded her arms, turning away from Dean and leaning her head against the back seat, she was going to try and get some more sleep since there was nothing else to really do.

***

Four hours into the drive [Y/N] wasn't able to sleep anymore. She had woken up to find that it was a hot day, no clouds in sight with the sun glaring in through the windows. She had shrugged out of her jacket and pulled her hoodie off, completely missing the way Dean looked over at her as her t-shirt rode up, exposing the side of her waist. She threw the jacket and hoodie into the back of the car before pulling her t-shirt down, and Dean swallowed and shook his head to clear his thoughts before focusing back on the road. With only about an hour left until they were stopping for lunch, [Y/N] pulled out one of the books she'd brought on werewolves. The book had originally come from the bunker, Sam had given it to her before her first wolf case a couple of years before. She had only been on a few werewolf cases since, so she needed to brush up on her knowledge and not give Dean any more reasons to doubt her skills.

"Alright, hope you're hungry". Dean said as he pulled in beside a diner. They'd entered the small town just after noon and had been looking for a place to stop for some food.

"Think they have pie?" [Y/N] asked as she reached over the back seat to grab her hoodie, causing her t-shirt to ride up again. Her question caused Dean to look over to her just in time to catch a glimpse at her bare waist again.

"What?" Dean asked after clearing his throat, [Y/N] looked over at him.

"I was just wondering if they'll have pie here". She said, then pulled on the hoodie.

"Oh... yeah, well they better". Dean cleared his throat again before letting himself out of the car and heading towards the diner, [Y/N] following behind him.

They sat opposite each other in a booth and each ordered a burger and fries. Dean flirted with the waitress, and [Y/N] was a bit caught off guard with his smile as he flirted. She wasn't used to seeing Dean's smile considering whenever he was looking at her it was usually with a frown or a glare. His smile lit up his entire face; the crinkles beside his eyes made him look kind, the freckles on his nose made him look younger, and his green eyes sparkled as he used a cheesy pick-up line. "What?" Dean asked, looking back at [Y/N] making her realise that she'd been staring.

"Sorry, nothing". She said and busied herself by looking down at her phone to send Sam an update. They spent their meal glued to their phones, not talking at all. They each ordered pie to take back to the car with them, and set off on the next leg of their journey. The next town that they were going to stop in was another five hours away, so [Y/N] took back out her werewolf book and began to read through it.

"Sam tell you about the case?" Dean asked about thirty minutes into the drive.

"Oh, not really, just mentioned that it looked like werewolves".

"Were you gonna ask me about it or just go in blindly and hope for the best like usual?"

"What do you mean 'like usual'? We've been on like five hunts together in total".

"Yeah, and on each of those hunts you were wreckless. Sam aways comes back from hunts with more cuts and bruises when he's with you than when he hunts with anyone else".

"Oh so I'm a bad hunter? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yeah, I am. You run into situations without thinking first, you don't watch your partner's back. It's dangerous to hunt with you".

"Dangerous, really? And how many time have you died Dean? How many times have you run into a situation without stopping to think? How many times has Sam died while with you? Because I've never died, and no one I've hunted with has ever died while on a hunt with me either". Dean glared at her, bringing up his deaths were one thing, but bringing up Sam's got to him.

"How about I fill you in when we get to the next town. No more talking in the car". He said, loosening his grip on the wheel after realising his knuckles were white from gripping it too hard.

"Suits me". [Y/N] angled herself away from Dean and went back to her werewolf book.

***

It was evening when Dean pulled into another diner, and neither of them had said another word. They made their way into the diner and ordered their food, [Y/N] ignored Dean's flirting with the waitress this time in favour of checking her phone to see how much farther away the motel was. It looked to be a four hour drive away, though it would probably be less with Dean's driving. She had been texting Sam throughout the day, complaining about Dean's behaviour, but Sam could only apologise and sympathise. Dean cleared his throat while they were waiting for the food, pulling [Y/N]'s attention up from her phone. "So the case. Two bodies were found last week, local law enforcement is chalking it up to an animal attack, but there was a witness who said they saw their friend being attacked by a 'monster'. Both victims were also missing their hearts. Like I said before, tomorrow when we get there we have an appointment with the coroner's office. I say you take that on and I'll go talk to the sherrif and see if there was anything else unusual about the scenes. We'll need to interview the witness at some stage too, maybe after the coroner's office you can do that, don't think examining the bodies will take long". He kept his voice down as the waitress came over with their food, and Dean wasted no time in tucking in.

"So you wanna do everything separately?"

"No, I'm just saying we'll be driving all tomorrow morning and most of the afternoon, so we need to get the interviews and stuff out of the way early. We can meet back at the motel when we're both done and hunt the thing down together".

"Why do we need to examine the bodies? Animal attack and missing hearts is plenty of evidence".

"Need to see it for ourselves, can't trust these small towns, you have to assume there's corruption and lies everywhere".

"Is that your motto for life?" [Y/N] asked while bringing some food up to her mouth.

"Look Sweetheart, this is my case. You're just here to help. That means you listen, you follow, and you do as I say. You have a problem with that, you can find your own way home and I'll do this on my own. Do you have any real questions about the case?"

"Nope". [Y/N] no longer felt like continuing the conversation, she just wanted to finish, get in the car, and get to the motel.

"Good". Dean finished his drink and made his way over to the waitress, presumably to try and get a number while [Y/N] finished up.

***

It was dark when they got to the motel, and [Y/N] was tired. She knew Dean had to be too after driving all day, so she was looking forward to getting some sleep. She was waiting in the car while Dean was getting the rooms, and when she saw him walking back to the car he did not look happy. She got out and gave him a raised eyebrow and he sighed. "Only one room. Come on". Dean grabbed his bag from the car and started walking towards a room, [Y/N] quickly grabbing her bag and following him. Dean groaned when he walked into the room and [Y/N] knew exactly why when she walked in behind him; there was only one bed.

"They don't have any rooms with two beds?" She asked, dropping her bag down onto the couch.

"They said this was the last room. I'm paying, so the bed is mine, you can have the couch". He said as he laid his bag down on the bed, laying claim to it.

"You sure you and Sam are related?" She asked, folding her arms and facing him.

"What?"

"He's just so nice, and thoughtful, you know? Selfless, giving, kind. A gentleman, some may say". Dean just scoffed and muttered something under his breath before sitting down on his bed. [Y/N] shook her head and grabbed her pyjamas, a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt, and headed to the bathroom. She decided that a shower would be good to wash away the annoyance at Dean she felt building up, and thankfully the motel had hot water. She washed, dried off, and dressed herself in her pyjamas before heading back out to Dean. When she opened the door he looked up, his eyes immediately drawn to her bare legs before scanning her body up to her wet hair, subconsciously licking his lips. She felt herself blush and she cleared her throat before walking over to the couch and pretending like she hadn't just seen him check hed out. She suddenly felt self-conscious in her choice of pyjamas, and pulled out a blanket from her bag to cover herself with.

"We'll uh, leave at 5am". Dean said and [Y/N] just nodded, lying back as Dean took his turn in the bathroom. She was asleep before he came back out.

***

It was 3pm when they arrived at the next motel the following afternoon, having stopped off for a very quiet and awkward lunch earlier. Luckily, this motel had two rooms, and they got changed into their FBI outfits separately. The plan was for [Y/N] to visit the coroner's office and check out the bodies, then go and interview the witness. Dean was going to the sherrif's office to talk about the investigations and find out if anything else unusual was happening, then check out the places where the victims were attacked. The coroner's office was beside the sherrif's, so Dean was going to drive them both there. When [Y/N] stepped out of her room, Dean was leaving his room at the same time. She couldn't help but admire him in his suit; as much as they didn't like each other, she couldn't deny that he was extremely handsome, especially in the afternoon sun with the way the light caught in his eyes. They were going to be apart for a couple of hours at least, something she was grateful for.

***

They met back at the motel later that evening to exchange information, and they were both certain now that it was a werewolf. The victims knew each other well, they were close friends, and, according to the witness, another one of their friends had been acting strange for a couple of months. They had his address, and they changed into more comfortable clothes before heading out. "You got silver bullets, and a silver blade? Or do you need to borrow some?" Dean asked before pulling up to the suspect's house.

"I have my own, thanks".

"That's surprising".

"I'm sorry, is this not the point where the teamwork starts?" [Y/N] snapped at him.

"Let's just get this over with". Dean sighed as he got out of the car. Once the two of them had all of their gear ready, [Y/N] went up to the front door of the house while Dean pressed himself to the side of the house, out of view of whoever opened the door but ready to charge in if needed. The door opened to reveal a tall, lanky man, he actually looked a lot like Garth except he had red hair.

"Hello?" The man asked, looking down at [Y/N].

"Hi! Mr. Lynch, is it?"

"Yes, can I help you?"

"I'm hoping you can. I'm a reporter working for a small news website, and I heard that two of your friends were killed last week in an animal attack, I'm very sorry for your loss". [Y/N] gave him a sympathetic look but the man looked uncomfortable rather than sad. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind just telling me about them?"

"I uh... now's not a good time. Sorry". He went to close the door but [Y/N] stuck her arm out to stop it and smiled up at him.

"I'll be around for a few days, why don't you give me your number and we can work out a better time?"

"Oh, alright I suppose". He said as she took out a little notepad and a silver pen from her jacket pocket. The moment he took the pen he yelped and dropped it, stumbling back into the house and giving [Y/N] an opportunity to step in and hold her knife up to his throat.

"Did you kill them?" She asked him, staring into his eyes. His hands were up beside his head in surrender, and he stuttered out his response.

"It..it was a-an accident. I-I swear!"

"[Y/N] there's a second one!" Dean's voice boomed behind her in the doorway and she snapped her head up to see another man growling at her. The distraction gave Lynch time to push her hand holding her knife back up towards here, nicking her neck and forcing her backwards. The both leaped at her, clawing at her shoulder and legs. She managed to plunge the silver knife into Lynch's chest while Dean had grabbed the second one. When she looked up to try and catch her breath, Dean had already stabbed the second man. He grabbed Lynch and pulled his body off of [Y/N]. She winced with the change of pressure, and looked down to see a lot of blood coming from both her shoulder and her leg. "Shit, [Y/N] you're hurt". He leaned down to take a closer look at her but she shook her head.

"Check the rest of the house... make sure there aren't more". She was still trying to catch her breath while applying pressure to her leg. Dean was torn, he wanted to check her injuries but he knew she was right, they could still be in danger.

"Don't move, I'll be right back". [Y/N] let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding as she watched Dean run up the stairs. Her leg was throbbing and her shoulder was stinging, she was never going to hear the end of this from Dean. After only a few minutes Dean was back, rushing towards her. He knelt down beside her and moved her hand so he could see her leg, then he moved his eyes up to her shoulder. "We need to get you to a hospital, come on". He moved to wrap an arm around her shoulder but she jerked back.

"No, no hospital. Just help me get back to the motel, I can stitch myself up".

"Are you serious?"

"Dean the nearest hospital is hours away, just bring me to the motel, please". She looked up at him in confusion, she didn't see any anger on his face, only concern mixed with panic.

"Alright, come on, I've got you". He moved closer to her and this time she let him pick her up. She grabbed onto his flannel, the pain in her leg striking her again as he stood up. "Shh, you're okay, we'll get you cleaned up". He had a pained expression as he looked down at her, the distress on her face overly evident. He opened up the passenger door and set her down on the seat before shrugging off his flannel and tying it around her thigh in an attempt to help stop the bleeding. She whimpered under his touch and he watched her eyes close, so he quickly tapped her cheek. "Hey, hey you know the drill, no falling asleep. You're fine, okay? You just need to stay awake for me". She opened her eyes again, looked up at him and nodded. Quickly, he ran around to the driver's side and drove them as fast as he could to the motel.

He carried her into his room in the motel and set her down on the bed, holding her shoulders for a few seconds until she had her balance sitting at the edge. "Can you bring me your medical kit?" She asked him, but he shook his head.

"You're not stitching yourself up, I'll do it".

"I can do it".

"I know you can, but I can do it faster since I'm not injured. Please let me?" He opened up his medical kit and set it down beside her on the bed before kneeling down in front of her.

"Okay". She grumbled.

"Okay, thank you. I'm gonna have to get those jeans off you to get to the gash on your leg, is that alright?" He asked as he pulled her shoes off.

"Yeah, yeah go ahead". She felt light-headed and it was taking all of her concentration just to stay sitting up. She had to admit it would have been difficult to stitch herself up, she was glad that Dean was doing it for her. She braced herself as Dean untied his flannel from her thigh and pealed her jeans off, wincing as the movement of the fabric agitated her cut.

"Sorry". He mumbled as he took out alcohol and wipes. "This is gonna sting, you ready?" He asked looking up at her. She had never seen such a genuine look of concern from Dean directed towards her in all the years she'd known him. She nodded and gritted her teeth as he poured the alcohol over the cut and wiped it clean. He was surprisingly gentle, and the pain was numbed slightly as she was distracted by the concentration on his face. He took out a needle and thread from a suture kit and got to work. The cut was deep but it wasn't very long, so Dean didn't take very long to stitch it up. He applied a bandage to it before looking back up at her. "Let's have a look at that shoulder". He helped her take off the hoodie she was wearing along with her t-shirt, leaving her sitting on the bed in her underwear. Noticing that she seemed uncomfortable, Dean made his way over to his bag quickly and pulled out a pair of sweatpants. "Uh, you can wear these, since your leg is done".

She smiled and mumbled a 'thanks' to him as he helped her get into them, rolling them up at the bottom since they were too long. Dean patched up her shoulder and also cleaned the little nick on her neck before closing up his medical kit and grabbing a spare t-shirt from his bag, which he also helped her into.

"You're a good patient". He chuckled as he sat down beside her.

"You're pretty good at cleaning up injuries".

"Lot's of practice". He shrugged. "You uh, you were good out there today". She looked at him for any hint of sarcasm but she couldn't find any. Noticing her confused expression he elaborated. "We weren't expecting two, but you were good with that Lynch guy, I mean you got him while they were both attacking you. I'm impressed".

"I'd be dead if you weren't there".

"I guess I'd be dead too if Sam hadn't insisted you come with me. This was definitely a two person case".

She had an urge to ask him why he was suddenly being nice to her, but she didn't want to push him. "Yeah, well, I'm glad it's over and we're both okay. I'll see you in the morning?" Shs asked as she went to stand up. Immediately realising it was a bad idea when she put her weight on her cut leg, she lost her balance.

"Woah, where are you trying to go?" Dean caught her as she fell backwards onto the bed.

"My room?"

"You should stay in here tonight, let me keep an eye on those wounds. That cut on your leg is pretty deep, I want to make sure it doesn't bleed through the bandage".

"Where am I going to sleep?" She asked, looking around the room and noticing that there was no couch, just a chair and the bed, and there wasn't exactly enough floor space for either of them to fit on.

"You've never shared a bed with Sam while out on hunts?" He asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, well, yeah I have, but he's my best friend". She felt her cheeks heat up at the thought of sharing a bed with Dean.

"Well, I don't snore as much as he does". He winked at her and on a whim, leaned his hand over to pat her not-damaged thigh. When he didn't take his hand back, [Y/N] also went out on a whim and leaned towards him more, chancing a glance down at his lips knowing he would see her do it. Taking her hint, he leaned in the rest of the way and pressed his lips to hers. Her hand slid up his chest and into the short hair on the top of his neck, while his grip on her thigh tightened and he moved his other hand to her waist. He licked her lower lip and she let him in straight away, deepening the kiss. Her free hand made its way to his bicep, feeling just how strong he was as the hand he had on her waist slipped under her shirt. She felt him smile into the kiss before he pulled away and leaned his forehead on hers.

"What was that for?" She asked, keeping her eyes closed.

"You scared me today, I thought I'd lost you". He said as his thumb stroked her waist.

"Would you really care if you had?"

"Would you care if you'd lost me?" He asked, and she didn't respond straight away.

"Yeah, I would. I care about you, Dean. You've never let me in though, you've shut me out since the day Sam introduced us".

"I shut everyone out. Everyone I love ends up dead eventually". She opened her eyes and saw that his were still closed, and she saw a tear escape from one of them.

"I'm not going anywhere". She whispered to him as she wiped his tear away, causing him to open his eyes and stare back into hers. "Come on, help me into bed". She smiled at him and he nodded, letting go of her to stand up and pull the covers back. He helped her slide in before getting in beside her. He lay on his back and opened his arms for her to lay her head on his chest, while he pulled her in tight, careful not to put any pressure on her shoulder. He kissed the top of her head as she yawned. "I'm not going anywhere". She repeated. With her now safe in his arms, he was actually looking forward to the two day drive back home.

The end.

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[girls-alias]

Christmas Wish - Dean Winchester

Title: Christmas Wish - Dean Winchester Words: 2,959 Relations: Dean Winchester X reader. TW: Christmas chapter.

I walked with my friend in the mall. We were doing last-minute shopping for Christmas when we stumbled upon the mall fountain. She chuckled bringing my attention to it. It had been decorated for Christmas with a big sign explaining that throwing a coin into the fountain and making a wish would come true on Christmas day. She's superstitious so she pulled two coins from her pocket, a wide smile on her face. I accepted one of the coins reluctantly with a sad smile. I know exactly what I'm going to wish for, it's the same thing I always wish for.

I held the coin tightly, putting my heart and soul into the wish. Mentally begging it to come true. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

"I wish Dean would find me," I thought to myself before throwing the coin and watching as it sunk to the bottom of the fountain floor. I sighed knowing that this wish was no different from all the other times I had wished. Just like always I knew I was going to be let down. Dean Winchester was the one who got away.

It was a classic case of the right person but the wrong time. Dean and I had been hunting together when Sam was in college, we were somewhat young and irresponsible but we were a team. After 2 years we finally started dating, it was perfect, it was natural and amazing. We only experienced it for a month before his dad disappeared and Dean had to ask Sam for help. We tried long distance for a little while but with both of us constantly hunting and Dean's new mission of finding the yellow-eyed demon, we didn't work out.

We agreed mutually that it was a bad time and it only hurt more knowing we were separate. We both cried, we told stories and all I needed was his arms around me, reassuring me but unfortunately, we had to do it over the phone as we were on opposite sides of the country.

I know I should forget about him and should have fully moved on in the 11 years since I've seen him but no man ever compares to him. He's ruined my views on relationships because I haven't had a single boyfriend as good as Dean. There was a time I stayed adamant to keep my phone number so he could always reach me but when I was fighting a small gang of vampires, my phone and SIM card were destroyed. It ruined me but it had been years since I had heard from him and so I should have let it go by that point.

My best friend woke up early to wave me off as I left. She doesn't know that I hunt monsters, she thinks I'm a pilot so it explains why I'm gone for weeks and sometimes months. It also gives me an excuse to not have a fixed address as I explained I would rather stay in hotels so that I don't have to pay for electricity in a house I won't be in. She's not the smartest person I know so it makes it a little easier lying to her. She'll believe anything.

My friend tried insisting that I stay for Christmas but monsters don't rest, I don't have time. It was the day before Christmas Eve when I left, much to her dismay. We'd already exchanged gifts and she's amazing. She knows I never buy new clothes so any holiday for exchanging gifts she gets me a new wardrobe. It comes in handy as I often get clothes ruined when I'm hunting but sometimes she gets me things I wouldn't be able to fight in.

I stopped in a motel in East Iowa, I had seen suspicious activity on the news which made me think it was a possible shapeshifter. They're a pain in the ass but someone's got to do it. I tried checking in, and getting a room for the night but they explained they were booked full for the next couple of days. Not ideal but I'll just have to live in my car for a little while.

The hunt was tedious, but it was quick as the shifter was sloppy and I killed the shifter in the early hours of Christmas morning. After living in my car, it soon became apparent I had an issue with my car. I had stopped in a diner car park, opening the bonnet to take a look. I soon came to the realisation I either had a leak in the coolant tank or a clogged heater core and so needed replacements. I asked in the diner if there were any mechanics open or somewhere I could get car parts on Christmas day. I was given the address and directions to a salvage yard that never seemed to close.

*********

I pulled up to the salvage yard, finding it was a house on the property. I stopped the car, assessing the house as I wondered if I should leave since they were probably celebrating Christmas and didn't want to disturb the owner. I sighed knowing I couldn't keep sleeping in my cold car. I climbed out of the car and approached the front door. I knocked lightly and checked the time on my watch making sure it wasn't too early to be knocking. The door opened to an older gentleman looking at me a little confused, I smiled politely.

"Hi, I just need some car parts. If it's not a good time, I can just go," I explained but he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Don't worry, you need a hand?" He asked but I shook my head.

"I'll be okay, I'm just having an issue with either my coolant tank or I have a clogged heating core so I'll just look for replacements," I explained but he nodded with a smile.

"I'll help, it might be easier finding it together," He explained, stepping inside to grab a jacket.

"Oh, you don't have to. I realise it's Christmas and you're probably celebrating with family," I explained but he chuckled.

"Nah, my two boys are out of state, we're not big on Christmas," He explained making me a little sad he was alone and I smiled sadly as I nodded.

"I totally get it, I don't have family so Christmas is just another day to me," I explained as he stepped out, leading me to the scrap cars.

“So you’re doing nothing today?” He asked as he popped the hood of a close by car. I chuckled as I did the same with another car.

“Yeah, I’ll be on the road again.” I shrugged. Happily getting my hands dirty as I checked the car.

“Well, why don’t you stay here? We may be strangers but I’ll cook you a warm meal.” He explained and I was touched by his sentiment.

“Maybe I will. I’m Y/N,” I explained, holding my hand out for him to shake. We didn’t care about the oil on our hands and shook them with a smile.

“Bobby,” he explained.

*******

Bobby and I had found the parts. He helped me install the parts and after letting the car run a while it was perfect. I tried paying Bobby but he refused. His argument was that I was making his Christmas more bearable.

We went inside, Bobby was wondering what to make for Christmas dinner as he hadn't prepared anything special. I walked into his lounge following him as he explained he would have a microwave meal.

"I don't mind having a microwave meal with you, I quite like them and I can always-" I stopped as I looked to the ceiling surprised. Bobby seemed to notice my silence as he turned around to look at me confused before following my line of sight. He seemed stunned silent as if he couldn't think of a lie. "You're a hunter too?" I asked, pointing to the devil trap painted onto the ceiling. He smiled happily.

"Thank God, I had no excuse ready." He chuckled, relaxing as he took a seat at his desk.

"Wait, You're a hunter and your name is Bobby. You don't know Dean Winchester, do you?" I asked it's a long shot but -

"Yeah, I practically raised him. Sam too. They're my boys I mentioned earlier." He explained a little confused before his eyes widened. "Y/N Y/L/N?" He asked. I was shocked he knew of me. Either Dean has talked about me in the past and he had a great memory or he's heard of me from someone else. Weird coincidence though. I nodded softly. His lips curled into a wide grin. "I've been looking for you for years!" He exclaimed excitedly shocking me as he jumped up to grab his phone.

"Looking for me why?" I asked, worry filling me as I wondered if this whole thing might be a trap.

"Sam asked me to track you down so you and Dean can meet again, he's never shut up about you. He thought you died," He explained as he started dialling the phone before freezing. "Do you want to see him?" He asked. I grinned at the news. Dean never stopped talking about me, he was looking for me. Oh my God. This can't be real. What are the odds?

"Yeah, I always wondered what happened to him," I replied playing it cool but inside I was doing cartwheels, dancing, hell, I was even doing back flips. Am I really going to see Dean again after all these years?

Bobby called Sam and explained that he found me and to bring Dean, we would get some food for making Christmas dinner. He excitedly explained he wanted to make it a real Christmas. Sam said it would be a few hours before they could get here, around 7PM but was more than happy to make the trip.

Bobby put me in charge of decorating as I helped him get everything from the attack and he was quick to leave to see what food he could get. I felt a mixture of anxiety and excitement as I remembered the Christmas wish I had made in the fountain, never believing it would actually come true. But here I am, decorating a stranger's house, food soon coming, Dean, the love of my life on his way. I worried about how he might react to seeing me. I worried I wouldn't be the same or maybe he wouldn't but I always knew he was the right person, wrong time but now might be the right time.

*******

Bobby was back after a few hours. Nowhere was open but picked up a menu from a restaurant that was open and happy to deliver. He helped me finish putting up the decorations before he shooed me off to dress nicer. I laughed as I went back to my car, deciding to move it to the back of the house so he wouldn't see it. He hasn't seen this car but I don't want him suspicious someone else is here. It might ruin the surprise. I changed into a nice dress my best friend had got me and mentally thanked her for getting it for me. I figured it would be good somewhere along the way if I had to work undercover but those kinds of jobs hardly ever come up.

*******

Bobby was more excited than me. He had given me a glass of whiskey for liquid luck but he soon tipped the bottom of my glass as I was taking a drink, the car was pulling in and he wanted me out of sight but for me to have finished my drink. He grabbed the glass from me and guided me to the dining room before closing the double doors with a wide smile.

I listened as Bobby greeted them at the door, my stomach doing flips as I heard Dean's voice. I took a deep breath, stabilising myself as I felt like I was dreaming.

"Hey, Bobby. Merry Christmas," Dean commented as he entered the room behind the double doors. I waited anxiously as I knew only the wooden doors were the only things separating us.

"Merry Christmas boys," I heard Bobby add with some shuffling sounds as if they were exchanging hugs. "I've got you some gifts under the tree but Dean, yours is in the dining room," Bobby explained.

"Thanks, Bobby. You didn't have to," Another voice explained happily and I knew it must be Sam. "We've got you a small bag of presents in the car," He added making Bobby chuckle.

"Thank you, I think Dean should get his first and then we can have a drink," Bobby explained, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

"We'll drink first," Dean seemed to shrug.

"Drinks after," Bobby insisted. There seemed to be a little silence before I heard footsteps approach the door. I took a deep breath, instantly worried and unsure how to stand. I decided to clasp my hands together and let them fall in front of me. The doors opened.

Standing in all his glory was Dean Winchester. The love of my life, the man I pined over for 11 years. He looked confused but as his eyes found mine he broke into a wide smile. He hurried to me. Engulfing me in a tight hug as he rocked us side to side slightly. I giggled as I hugged him back. My arms wrapped over his shoulders as he squeezed me tightly. I forgot how tall he actually was until he straightened up and lifted me off the floor for a second.

He buried his face into the crook of my neck, his smiling cheeks noticeable against my skin. He pulled away, his hands still on me as he didn't want to be far. "What are you doing here? You're alive, I can't believe you're alive. How did this happen?" He asked excitedly. I chuckled as I admired him. He hasn't changed for the worst, he's even more handsome than I remember, he's more rugged and definitely still the epitome of my type.

"I had car troubles, it was a complete coincidence," I explained as his smile never faded. He pulled me back into a hug making me chuckle. I hugged him back, squealing as he lifted me from the ground again and kept me up. He's still strong. God, if only he knew what he was doing to me. I noticed Bobby and a tall guy smiling as they watched us. "Hi, Sam. It's nice to meet you," I chuckled as Dean's grip didn't waver. He chuckled.

"Nice to meet you too," He added. Dean spun around so I was facing the other way. I heard the doors closing as he took one hand from around me to close the doors. I chuckled a little nervous as to why he wanted to be alone with me but it also made butterflies flutter in my stomach. He held me up with one arm, he didn't struggle and didn't seem to even consider putting me down.

Once the doors were closed, he put me down. His hands cupped my face as he admired my eyes. "I've been waiting for you," He explained, my insides turning to mush. I smiled.

"Me too," I added, he grinned at my words.

"Good," He swooped down, connecting our lips in a passionate kiss. I swooned as his lips graced mine. The kiss I had dreamed of for years. The kiss I had imagined so many times. The kiss no other compared to. He smiled against my lips as my hands move to the back of his neck to hold him close to me. One of his hands moved to my hip, pulling my body against his. I pulled away slowly when I heard Bobby and Sam snickering to themselves probably talking about us. Dean seemed reluctant to pull away.

"We can't just ignore them," I explained but he looked disappointed. I chuckled as I shook my head. "It's Christmas," I added so he playfully rolled his eyes but his smile never left his lips. He pulled me back into a sweet kiss before pulling away again.

"Be my girlfriend again and I'll stop ignoring them," He hinted, his smile turning to a smirk. I blushed at his words knowing I had never wanted anything more in my life. I nodded a little too excitedly. He chuckled as he connected our lips, celebrating the rekindling of our relationship after 11 years. I should have made the wish in the fountain years ago.

*****

It was the best Christmas I ever had. We ordered Chinese food they opened presents, we exchanged hunting stories and acted like a real family. As the night was winding down, Sam took one of the spare rooms while Dean and I took the other. I worried he would want to make up for all the nights we had missed but as soon as we were in the room alone his arms never let go of me. We cuddled all night and it was the best sleep I remember ever having.

We stayed at Bobby's a few days before Sam and Dean had to go back on the road. Dean rode in my car, kissing me when I stopped but holding my thigh the whole time I was driving. He still looks at me the same way he used to, the love in his eyes only seemed to grow as we spent more time together. He had only changed for the better but he was still the same and loving man I had fallen for. He's still perfect for me.

Masterlist

#fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean #dean winchester fic #christmas #wish

[alexsoenomel]

Zippo Lighter (Dean Winchester x Reader fluffy smut)

Request: Hi 😊 would you do a Dean Winchester imagine where youre secretly having a crush on each other but not admitting it. Then one time Sam is out and you're alone at the motel, so it happens you accidentally walk in the bathroom while Dean takes a shower. You get all flustered but Dean takes the chance to grab you and kiss you and you end up in bed making soft love that night. In the morning Sam finds you cuddling and is just happy you finally got together

Summary: You were born with a very special and powerful gift. This is the story of how you met the Winchesters and fell for the older one. 

Pyrokinesis  /ˌpaɪroʊkɪˈniːsɪs/ —The ability to set objects or people on fire or to supernaturally project fire from one's own being through the concentration of psychic power.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: mentions of rape, abuse and death, AGE GAP (DEAN IS 35 AND THE READER IS 20), sweet and vanilla sex (reader is a virgin)

Word count: 7,505 (OOPS! I got carried away...)

Note: I LIVE FOR MUTURAL PINING OKAY! I put my own little twist to it and the only thing I left out from the request was when Sam finds them together....I kinda wanted a funny ending. Request by @tieddown-withbattleshipchains​

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

ALSO HUGE THANK YOU TO MY QUEEN FOR BEING THE BEST AND HELPING ME GROW AS A WRITER! LOVE YA GIRL!  @ambergoddess444ALSO CHECK OUT HER BLOG!!  SHE IS AN AMAZING WRITER HERSELF AND IS CURRENTLY WORKING ON AN AMAZING SERIES CALLED LAWFUL BALANCE!!!! 

It was said that being different was, is and will, most of the time, be a bad thing. Why? Probably because people usually didn't understand why someone was different. Sure, there are good human beings in this world, but most of the time, when you hear something filled with hatred it tends to stay with you longer than the good things. That's why you kept things quiet.

You didn't really have good friends and your family died in a fire...a fire you started when you were just a little girl in diapers, crying yourself to sleep. One moment you were crying in your crib for mommy to pick you up and feed you, and the next, everything was on fire....except you. You still didn’t know what exactly happened. That day you became an orphan, depending on others and your home was an orphanage near the house you once lived in. You weren’t happy there whatsoever. You had no friends, the food was awful and the women who were supposed to keep you safe didn’t care and treated you like garbage. No one liked you, no one wanted you…so you decided to run.

The night before your 18th birthday you packed a bag and finally, when everyone went to sleep, at around 3am, you left and never came back. When they finally realized you were gone, they were furious. Of course they tried to look for you, but failed. You were far gone from your city and everything you knew. It was time to start over.

That was two years ago.

Now, at the age of 20, you were content and living your life instead of just surviving. You worked as a janitor in a local high school in Lebanon, Kansas. It wasn’t much but you had your own little place, some money to survive and had a somewhat normal life. You thought you had finally run away from your past, and as far as your outstanding ability went, you decided to shut it down. You didn’t think about it and just for a second it seemed like you had finally moved on. You were even thinking about going to college and finally doing something you loved. Being a janitor wasn’t something you wanted to do for the rest of your life. 

Everything seemed fine, you managed to make some friends at that high school (more like people you were friendly with); some of them were students rushing desperately to graduate and go to college, some of them were even teachers, and for the first time you felt accepted, which was ironic considering you worked in the most judgmental place on Earth.

Who knew everything was about to change one night? You sure didn’t. You were clueless.

At around 1am on a Friday night you were awakened by the sound of the glass shattering. You got up and went to the kitchen only to see a shadow of a man.

“Who the hell are you?” You asked. You weren’t scared, you were angry and that wasn’t good for either one of you.

“Hey there.” The man spoke. His voice sent cold shivers down your spine, and not the good kind. It was the kind that made you sick to your stomach.

“Don’t move.” He said, pulling out a gun. “You’re going to be a very good girl for me tonight.”

You still weren’t terrified. The man had the face of a true monster and you still weren’t scared. He told you he was going to rape you and rob you, and you still didn’t flinch. Instead you were raging with anger. Your jaw was painfully clenched as your hands formed two fists. Slowly you approached him, step by step…

“Don’t fucking move.” He ordered but you didn’t listen.

“You told me to be good, right?” You asked innocently while the muzzle of the gun was on your chest. Slowly you put your palm on it. “I will be good I promise.”

The smell of melted metal filled the room, along with the smoke and…light?

A small beam of light came directly from your palm, intriguing the man to become fixated on it. You, on the other hand, didn’t notice. A few seconds later, the gun muzzle was shut, and the gun became useless.

“What the fuck did you do?” The man asked, as panic started to set in.

You weren’t feeling right. You knew he couldn’t hurt you now but you were still angry. He broke into your home, with the intent to assault you and might try again if you don’t do something. The anger was too much…

“Oh nothing…” You said calmly and pressed your thumb on his chest imagining the fire burning on that exact spot.

The man was confused until he looked down and saw his sweater on fire. He started to panic and tried to find the nearest object to put the fire out. It was useless; he was a dead man from the moment he broke into your apartment.

You stepped back from him and slowly moved your hand up in the air. The fire spread all over him now and he was screaming. That scream of pure agony woke you up. You quickly realized what you had done and it was time to run. No time to get your stuff, you just grabbed your wallet and left. Soon,the whole ground floor, where your apartment was, was on fire…

You didn’t know where to run or where to hide. You didn’t have a car and you wanted to leave town as soon as possible. What happened? What have I done?

Those were the questions you couldn’t get out of your head while running God knows where.You didn’t know where your legs were taking you, but you couldn’t stop running.  It was dark and it felt like every soul was asleep except you. The night seemed so endless and hollow.

Why can’t I just be normal? I want to be normal.

It was probably 7am and you were still on the move. You unknowingly passed the highway and entered the woods you had no knowledge existed in the first place. Eventually you noticed the sun was about to rise and you were exhausted.

Still in shock from previous events, you felt like screaming. Tears were coming down your cheeks and your stomach made the loudest noise letting you know you were hungry. Realizing you were lost, you decided to sit down and rest for a bit. You let your mind slowly drift to sleep as you listened to the sounds surrounding you; birds chirping, wind blowing, branches swinging and…someone running?

You immediately got up, feeling anxious yet again. In your mind it could be a serial killer or a dangerous animal.

“HELLO?”

Nothing.

“HELLO?”

Nothing yet again.

You slowly started to panic, feeling like you could burst at any minute and setting everything on fire again scared the living shit out of you.

“Hey.” Someone said behind you.

You turned around, and faster than lightning, from your hand a small ball of fire flew and almost hit the guy who was standing behind you. Luckily, he was fast enough to throw himself on the ground and the fire hit a tree, missing him by a few inches.

“What the hell?” You mumbled and looked at your hand. This was new. You have never done something like this. Imagining where you wanted fire to burn was the only way you could create it.

Sometimes you would lose control (like last night) but you never thought fire could leave your body just like it did now. It was like you were a living, breathing lighter.

“I’m so sorry.” You said. “I’m so fucking sorry. Please don’t tell anyone what you saw. Fuck.” By this point you were having a full blown panic attack in the middle of the woods with a stranger. What a perfect scenario, you thought.

“Hey, first of all I won’t.” The stranger got up and cleaned the dirt off his shorts. He was tall, very tall, with long-ish hair and a pleasant face. By the looks of his clothes he was jogging. Who in their right state of mind jogs in the middle of the woods at 7 o’clock in the morning? Clearly this guy. “Second, how did you do that?”

“I don’t know.” You said wiping tears off your cheek. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Okay. This is going to sound crazy but I live in a bunker near these woods with my brother, we deal with this kind of stuff all the time. You’re clearly stressed out and tired, do you want to come with me? We can sort everything out.”

“What? So you have seen stuff like this?” You asked, genuinely surprised by his answer.

“This? No…but I have seen a lot of things people only dream about.”

“You sound like a character from a TV show…or a mental patient.” You said, still questioning whether he was telling the truth.

“Yeah. People usually tend to think I’m crazy.” He smiled.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Think about it this way, you can kill me if I try anything.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.”

He seemed genuine and you felt like you could trust him. He was right; you could kill him if you wanted to. Your powers were growing and you could feel it. You didn’t want it, but it was out of your control.

On your way to “the bunker”, you explained to him what happened: the stranger in your home, destroying his gun and killing him…he seemed to believe your every word.  His name was Sam Winchester and he wasn’t lying. He did in fact live with his brother in these woods. It was some sort of a reinforced underground shelter, bunker of some sort;   it screamed men cave but it was cozy and felt like an actual home.

“Hey Sam.”  Someone emerged from the kitchen. A man in a long, gray robe with morning bed hair and coffee in his right hand. “Who’s this?”

“This is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is my brother Dean.“ He looked at him and just nodded.”I will explain later. Now do you want to take a shower while I talk to my brother?”

“That would be nice, thank you.” You said.

Sam gave you a towel, a clean shirt and showed you where the guest room was, along with the bathroom. You were still a little anxious and on the edge after everything that had happened the previous night, but strangely enough, you knew everything would be okay in the end. You could trust Sam.

“I’m hungry and I’m not gonna ask anything until I eat my breakfast.” Dean said calmly, looking at his plate of pancakes like he was looking at the most beautiful woman in the world.

“I’m screwed, aren’t I? Sam smiled.

“Oh yeah.”

After 10 minutes of Dean stuffing his face with pancakes and Sam looking at his laptop as usual, you were finally done with the shower and the older brother was ready to ask some questions.

“Okay first of all, why did you let a stranger use my shower?” Dean asked.

“It’s a guest bathroom, Dean.”

“Still…What’s her deal?”

“I ran into her while jogging…she’s…” He didn’t know how to explain it to him because he wasn’t quite sure what he witnessed in the first place.

“What?” Dean was growing impatient, you could hear it in his deep and sharp voice.

“She can create fire.” He finally spat it out. “I found her in the woods scared and alone and she threw a ball of fire at me.”

“And you brought her here?” Dean asked sarcastically.

“I scared her. The fire hit the tree.”

Dean wasn’t pleased with his brother and the decision to bring a complete stranger to their home, but of course, Sam already knew that and still decided to help you. He knew what it was like to feel completely alone, so he wanted to help.

“Still she could have killed you Sam.” Dean yelled.

“But I didn’t mean to.” You said standing behind them with wet hair and face almost red after a hot shower. The shirt Sam gave you was just above your knees but you were still wearing your dirty pajama bottoms.  “I panicked and I’m so sorry Sam.”

“I believe you. Now, let's figure this out.”

You nodded and sat next to Dean while Sam was still searching for something on his laptop. “There it is.” He mumbled and showed you the article. Damn, those journalists were fast. It was about the dead guy in your burnt down apartment. Luckily no one else got hurt or died. You then showed Dean the article.

“You did this?” He asked. His face was a little tense. He was contemplating if he could trust you or not.

“Yeah. Some guy broke in and threatened to rape me. I got mad.”

“Rape you?” He said after checking the screen once more. The guy you killed was a convicted sex offender.

“Yes. He had a gun.” You added.

“Well, it’s safe to say he got what he deserved. “ Dean said.

“Yeah but my life is ruined.” You said looking at your hands. “I could never live a normal life.”

“What do you mean? Where are your parents?” Sam asked.

You couldn’t even look at him and you sure weren’t about to cry. You told them about your parents, the fire, the orphanage and the abuse you endured and how life has been nothing but running and hiding for you. You have been just surviving for the majority of your life. It became exhausting, but once you finally started living, it all seemed too good to be true. Now you knew, it was. You could never have a normal life.

“I didn’t ask for this.” Your voice was trembling as you struggled not to completely fall apart. “I just want to be normal.”  

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were so angry at yourself it made your heart literally hurt. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack or maybe it was just breaking knowing you lost one thing you wanted the most – normalcy. You excused yourself and went to the guest room where you were staying. As soon as you shut the door you started to cry collapsing onto the floor. You suddenly heard Sam’s voice calling your name.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m a mess, better not. Give me a minute!”

“Okay but know one thing. It’s not your fault you were born like this. It doesn’t matter what you are nor what abilities you have, it only matters what you do. It’s your choice. You were a baby when it happened, (Y/N).”

Sam’s words hit you like a damn truck. He was right, you knew he was, but you couldn’t shake off the guilt you felt. You decided to open the door. You wiped your tears and let him in.

“You sure know your way with words, Sam.” You said, forcing a smile on your face.

“That’s because I’ve been there.” He confessed.

“You said you and your brother deal with all kinds of strange stuff, what exactly do you mean? Are there more people like me?”

He told you he will tell you everything if you stop crying and go back to the library.

“Okay.”

When you got back to the library, Sam proceeded to tell you stories that you would only read in books or see in movies. He told you he and Dean were hunters, but not the ones you thought. They hunted creatures… supernatural beings.

Stories about actual ghosts, demons and even angels followed. Dean even told you God himself existed…and that Lucifer was a tantrum making man-child which made you chuckle. When you asked them about humans with abilities he told you there were people with telekinesis, but your case was unknown to them.

“Well then…” Disappointment and confusion was all you felt in that moment.  “This sucks.”

“Want a drink?” Dean asked.

“Yes, please.” You said as a thought followed. I’m not old enough to drink.

Dean went and got you the strongest whiskey he could find. When you took a sip, the burning sensation went straight through your throat. It was strong alright and you have never tasted alcohol before. Strangely enough, it tasted good. It made you clench your eyes shut, but it was really good.

“Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

“Do you think I’m a monster?” You then asked him. Dean was taken aback for a second before he finally answered.

“Nah, you don’t want to kill people, do you?”

“No.”

“You don’t feed off people?”

“No.”

“Then you’re good, don’t worry. Besides, I think it’s pretty awesome what you can do.”

You have never heard someone tell you this; then again no one has ever known what you can do. His words rang in your mind as your gaze went to your now half empty glass, wondering how you drank the amount you did.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re like a walking, talking Zippo lighter.” Dean’s voice was naturally deep and husky; hearing him call you a walking,talking Zippo lighter sent light shivers all over your body. His lips formed a pout, he seemed to really like his little analogy.

Looking at your right hand, scanning every inch of it, you couldn’t get his words off your mind; a walking, talking Zippo lighter. Something in your mind happened that caused the tip of your index finger to make a small flame, indeed like a lighter. You smiled in shock; this was the first time you actually used your ability, without feeling angry. Rotating your hand you imagined the flame getting bigger, and indeed it became bigger.

“Like this?” You asked.

“Wow.” Dean said clearly impressed while Sam had a look of worry written all over his face.

“(Y/N)…” Sam finally spoke in a whisper. Brows furrowed; his face screamed concern. He was afraid you might slip and lose control, like you did with him. You took that as a sign to stop, so you brought your fingers into a fist and the flame was gone.

“Sorry.” You then mumbled.

“You’re indeed a Zippo lighter.” Dean said and lifted his glass. “Let’s drink to that!”

“Cheers!” You said lifting yours and chugged the rest of the whiskey.  “What am I going to do though?”

One glass of whiskey wasn’t enough for you to forget your whole situation. You had nowhere to go, only a little money in your pocket that will probably last you a month if you skip dinner every night.

“Tell you what, why don’t you stay with us for a while?” Sam said. “This library is filled with books about the supernatural, there must be something about your ability, we just have to find it.”

“Really?” You asked, looking at Dean for approval.

“We don’t usually do this, heck we don’t do this ever, but if Sam trusts you I trust you. But if you do anything stupid we will have a problem. Got it?” Dean said.

“DEAN!” Sam yelled, annoyed because in his eyes, he was basically threatening a child. You were 20, but still apparently a child in his eyes.

“THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!” You got up from your chair and went straight for a hug.

“Oh, okay then…” Dean said as you wrapped your hands around his neck from behind as he was still sitting and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Dean was definitely surprised by your actions and couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. Then you went and hugged Sam. You felt so small due to his height. His body was firm and he smelled like a winter mountain’s air, fresh.  

For the first time in your life you felt safe. These guys just met you and they were willing to take you under their wing and help you find answers to questions that followed you for as long as you have been on this Earth. You couldn’t be more thankful for that.

*********

First few weeks living in the bunker with the brothers was a bit awkward and not for them, but for you. It still kind of was after almost five months of being a part of their lives. Sam became like a brother to you, for the first time in your life you could just let go and tell someone what was bothering you and what was on your mind. He became your best friend.

But Dean on the other hand…

Dean was something else. You found yourself looking at him more and more, but in a way you didn’t understand. It came out of nowhere. The man was gorgeous, no doubt about that, but he also liked rock music, had a weakness for pecan pie and overall was a pretty funny guy with a heart of gold. Of course you couldn’t tell Sam about it, it would make things even more awkward and you definitely couldn’t tell Dean, so you decided to not think about it. Suffer in silence and be dramatic…

You had a pretty good life with them. At first Dean didn’t let you go on hunts with them because he thought you would get hurt, but you took care of that. When a nest of vampires came to your town you made sure to show Dean what you can do. You took down the whole nest with one flame.

“Damn (Y/N)!” He said when he realized the whole nest was dead. It made you blush like a schoolgirl.

Your ability just kept getting stronger. Sam was helping you control it and so far it was working, deep breaths, meditation and surprisingly yoga helped but as far as knowing the origin of your powers… that still remained a mystery. Being an impulsive ass you sometimes had moments when you couldn’t control yourself and lit things on fire. It was a little saddening knowing you might never find an answer where your powers came from but you learned to accept it. So far it was working for you. You were in a good place.

One Monday morning you were eating breakfast with the boys while Sam was on his laptop with a piece of toast in his mouth searching for a case.

“Sam, will you ever eat breakfast without your beloved laptop?” You asked him.

“Nope.” He mumbled.

You looked over at Dean who was looking back at you smiling. He was looking extra good today which made you nervous. Your little crush was still alive and well, tormenting you day and night. You smiled back at him before you heard Sam saying he found a case. Perfect timing, you didn’t want to look for too long and be obvious.

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Los Angeles. Two people dead and one is missing. Eyes burnt.”

“City of angels and dead angels. What an irony.” You said.

“Or demons.” Dean added.

“So are we going?” You then asked.

You were going and you were going right after breakfast. You packed your bags and went within 20 minutes. The ride was going to be long so you packed some snacks, water and beer as well. This was going to be the first LONG drive with the brothers. Almost 24 hours… Sitting in the back seat you couldn’t help but watch Dean as he started the engine and pushed the gas pedal of his Baby. He really loved that car, blasting Led Zeppelin through the speakers, jamming to their music and genuinely being happy.

After a while you put your jacket against the window using it as a pillow and fell asleep. You didn’t get much sleep that night so might as well use the time to nap.

You woke up about two hours later still on the road.

“Good morning.” You heard Dean say.

“Hi (Y/N).” Sam said.

“Hi, are we there yet?” You murmured, still a little sleepy.

They both laughed telling you, you have been asleep for only two hours.

“Damn it.”

The ride was long and exhausting. You listened to Dean’s playlist which you didn’t mind considering you loved classic rock and slept while the older brother was driving. You made a few stops here and there to stretch your legs and have a breath of fresh air before finally arriving in Los Angeles the next day at around 7am. You found a cheap motel and decided to eat and rest for a bit before going to work. The room was relatively small with three beds, a semi clean bathroom and a dining table.  

“Dibs on the shower.” You said.

“I’m next.” Sam said, looking at his brother.

“Ugh fine.” You heard Dean as you closed the door.

After a steamy hot shower you felt like you have just been reborn. Because it was hot as hell (pun intended), you put on a pair of shorts, one of Dean’s old Led Zeppelin shirts you “borrowed” and your worn out boots. When you opened the door Dean’s gaze went straight to you. He was obvious but you didn’t see it. You were too tired and hungry to notice anything.

Dean was lost in you and he was quite confused by it. When he first saw you, he thought you were cute but then when you told him you were 20 he slapped himself mentally. He was 35 and it felt weird.

While he was drinking his beer and Sam was taking a shower, he watched you as you roamed around the room packing your stuff searching for God knows what in those damn shorts before you sat down across from him and opened your small bottle of vodka you bought at the gas station. You looked older than your actual age so buying alcohol was never a problem for you.

“What’s that?” Dean asked.

“Vodka.”

“You know you’re not old enough to drink?”

“I will be 21 in five months, leave me be.” You smiled and took a sip. Vodka was strong, burning your throat for a few seconds but it felt so good it woke you up instantly. Drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t smart at all and you knew that, but man you needed that little taste. You were a little nervous being alone with Dean.

You didn’t know but he couldn’t stop thinking how hot you were in those shorts and his shirt. “Why the fuck do I have a crush on a chick who's not old enough to drink?”

*****

The next day started at 6am. Dean woke you with a fresh cup of coffee under your nose.

“Good morning princess.”

His sarcastic tone made you roll your eyes before you even opened them. You got up, eyes still closed, hair all over your face, and took a sip of bitter black coffee. It was good enough to make you open your eyes, as you sat on the edge of the bed, processing your existence.

“Where’s Sam?” You said under your breath.

“Went to check out the bodies. Get dressed! We are going in ten minutes!”

“Without breakfast?” You asked knowing damn well Dean would never skip breakfast.

“With breakfast dumbass! We are meeting him at the diner two blocks away.”

“Good.” You simply said and went to the bathroom.

*****

The whole day was a bust. You checked out the bodies but couldn’t locate the source of the killings and with Cas (a badass angel whom you had a pleasure meeting once) not answering his angel phone, you were kinda stuck.

Later that day another body popped up, but no new leads followed. Annoyed, tired and sweaty in the suits you were wearing pretending to be the FBI, you decided to try again tomorrow. Sam decided to go for a walk and clear his head, while Dean was ready to hit the sack. You were hungry so you decided to grab a burger before going back to the motel.

After eating your Five guys you came back to the room, ready for a shower and some sweet dreams. Where's Dean?

Kicking your boots off, you noticed Dean’s suit on his bed and yet again wondered where he was. You took off the blazer and pants, feeling the warm air brush your skin and relief since it was so damn hot. Wrapping a towel around your naked body you opened the bathroom door only to see Dean standing surrounded by steam with a towel around his hips. You have seen him shirtless before, covered in cuts and blood, but shirtless nonetheless and every time you would tell yourself to not stare for too long.

“Holy shit, I’m sorry.” You said and closed the door immediately. You could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you tried to shake the same feeling away. Dean was good at reading people and you had to be careful with your silly little crush. You didn’t want to make things awkward.

Dean opened the door, still wearing only a towel.

“You done?” You refused to look at him. Your eyes were looking at the bathroom door right behind him.

“Yeah.” He said. He was admiring the sight before him. Your locks of hair gently touching your shoulders, white towel wrapped around you, you looked tired and beautiful. I will lose my damn mind.

You just nodded and went to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Deep breaths didn't help, your heartbeat was in your throat, while your body felt unfamiliar and tense.

Meanwhile Dean got dressed and went to bed trying desperately to not think about the view he saw minutes ago. He failed.

Great, now I have a boner.

In the bathroom you took your sweet time to really enjoy the shower. You liked steaming hot showers, your philosophy was: if the skin wasn’t red afterwards, the shower wasn't good enough. You've always loved being hot, summer was your favorite holiday, hot coffee was your favorite drink; you sometimes wondered if your ability shaped your whole personality…BUT feeling hot and bothered because of a man was another story. It wasn't any man, it was Dean Winchester. You shook the sweet sinful thoughts of you and him doing the horizontal tango and focused on washing the shampoo from your hair.

After the shower you brushed your teeth and got into an oversized Mötley Crüe shirt you bought a few years ago in a random music store in Kansas. It covered your ass and was perfect for sleeping. Plus it reminded you of the things that once were and bittersweet memories of your almost normal life.

I wonder how his lips taste. God, I really want to bite his perfect little nose.

You shook your head.

No….skin care!

After finishing your skin care, which only consisted of one serum, you stepped out of the bathroom and saw Dean on his phone, pretending to not scan you as you went under the covers.

God, I love that shirt on her.

I should really do something before Sam gets back.

"(Y/N)?" You heard him as you were trying to get comfortable in a shitty motel bed.

"Yeah?"

She's too young for me.

She doesn't like me.

It's weird.

"Do you still wish to be normal?"

Stupid fucking question.

"Not really, why?"

Dean swallowed nervously, not knowing where to take this conversation.

You were surprised by his question. Why is he asking me this?

"Just wondering, I know how messed up you were when we met."

"You and Sam really helped me accept that part of myself. It's not something I would change." You were lying on your side, facing Dean. Something seemed off about him and you noticed. It felt like secrets were lingering in the air and he refused to say anything. The air was tense. You were nervous.

Maybe I'll get lucky tonight.

You're not in a porn movie (Y/N)! Snap out of it! He probably thinks I'm too young for him?

Should I do something though?

What is he hiding from me?

"Plus, I really like being a walking, talking Zippo lighter." You finally added, reminding him of his little comparison.

He chuckled. "You know, I have one and it's not as badass as you."

You felt your cheeks burning up. You were trying to determine if it was his comment or warm air in the room.

"Yeah well, I'm a collector's item. Unique, I guess." You said and sat up on the edge of the bed. You looked at your left hand before it was engulfed in fire. Dean was watching you closely, hypnotized by the flame. You wanted to try something you have been practicing for a while.

"Open your Zippo, Dean." You told him. He went to the sofa and got his lighter from his jacket. He was only in his boxers but you were too focused on the flame in your hand to fully process.

He opened the silver Zippo he had had for years and before he could say anything you snapped your fingers and a small flame started flying in the air before it settled on the wick.

"Holy shit that's awesome!"  

"Yeah? Been practicing control for a bit."

"Well good job Zippie! This is fucking amazing!" For a second he sounded like an excited child in an amusement park.

You chuckled. Zippie. You liked when he gave you nicknames and occasional terms of endearment like sweetheart or darling. It made your little heart dance.

"I really like that." You said and formed a fist making the whole flame disappear from your hand and his lighter.

"What?" He asked. His voice was deep but something changed. You couldn't put a finger on it but your gut was telling you something good was lingering just around the corner. His face was a dead giveaway. You knew Dean, not long, but long enough to recognise the look he had whenever he wanted to devour a woman alive. You’ve seen it like ten times in the past few months. He was a flirty type.  

His face was relaxed, smoldering eyes burning right through you, occasionally licking his perfect plum lips.

He likes me.

"I like the nickname Zippie." You finally said as you snapped back to reality.

He didn't say anything. He just put his lighter back in the pocket of his leather jacket and sat on your bed.

"Can I tell you something, Zippie?"

"Yeah, you can." You said, your voice struggling not to completely disappear.

"When I say I think you're badass I really mean that. You're really something else…"

Why can't I just tell her?

You smiled. You knew he thought your ability was awesome but to hear him say it was something else. It was from the heart.

"I believe you."

You sat next to him and put your index finger in front of him. A small yellow flame appeared.

"Make a wish!" You said. He wasn't sure why you did that but he knew exactly what to wish for.

I wish you would kiss me back.

Dean closed his eyes and blew the candle that was your finger.

After he did it, you did exactly the same.

I wish you would kiss me.

"What did you wish for?" You said, not noticing how close your faces were.

"This!" And with that Dean closed the gap between you with a soft kiss on your lips. You could taste the hint of mint right away from his toothpaste while your hand went to cup his cheek before you decided to sit on his lap. Your forehead was resting on his when you broke the kiss.

"I wished the same thing." You confessed.

His hand went in your hair as he smiled and kissed you again, this time letting you know he wanted more. He wanted it all.

You moaned into the kiss and you placed your hands on his cheeks, pulling him closer. His kisses were addictive, sweet and with a taste of something you have never experienced before – lust. You’ve kissed a few, you’ve made out with the few, but never actually felt wanted enough to sleep with someone. Until now.

You broke the kiss, panting like you just ran a marathon.

“Sam’s going to kill you, y’know?” You said as his lips drifted to your neck, leaving a small trail of kisses all over.

“Why do you think that?” He was, of course, clueless.

“It’s not like you’re 15 years older than me Dean.” You said sarcastically. “Plus he sees me as his younger sister.”

“Ew gross!” He answered between kisses. “I mean…I thought I’m too old for you but–”

“But nothing.” You cut him off. “It’s not like I’m 16, give me a break! Plus 35 is a perfect age for a man.”

Dean lifted his head up to look at you, his green eyes were sparkling and his lips were smiling. “You think so?”

“Yeah I know so! Sam showed me your old photos when you were in your early 20s. You are aging like fine wine.”

It was true. You and Sam were rummaging through old boxes on a random, rarely free, Sunday when you found old photos of the brothers throughout the years. Dean in his early 20s was an innocent, breathtaking boy with a stunning smile on his face. He would protect you and make sure you were safe, whilst Dean in his early 30s would kill for you and make sure you were far from danger. Dean in his early 30s was tired and wise, body and soul filled with scars, but beauty intact.

Dean’s smile became a smirk. He nodded, accepting the compliment before he kissed you again. His hands went under your shirt, his fingers tracing all over your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body. In response you started to slowly move your hips and grind against him, feeling how hard he already was. It then hit you. You didn’t tell him.

“Dean?” You said breaking the kiss…again.

“Huh?”

“I have a thing I forgot to tell you.” You started. You felt nervous even though you didn’t know why. It wasn’t a big deal and you knew that, The only question was how to properly articulate it.

“Spill it!” He looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes, excited about what you would say next. Who knew he was like a puppy when he liked someone.

“You’re going to be my first.” You finally spilled it after a few seconds of silence.

He tilted his head slightly. “You mean your first DILF?”

You sighed and gave him a bitch face. Too much time with Sam was rubbing off on you. “You’re not a father as far as I know, Dean! No, like the first guy I’m gonna sleep with!”

His lips formed a small O when you told him.

“You mean…?”

“Yeah!”

“Are you sure you want to though?” He then asked, even though he already knew the answer. You trusted him. He trusted you.

“Yeah. Now shut up and kiss me, will ya?”

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked.

This kiss seemed different, needy and filled with lust and adoration. It felt like he was holding everything back until now. It felt like you finally got to taste your favorite wine, so sweet and addictive. You couldn't get enough of it.

You leaned in, urging him to follow you as you fell into the mattress. While you were kissing, you couldn't help but slowly move your hips, grinding against him, feeling how hard he was. It was a brand new feeling. You liked the idea of him getting all hot and bothered because of you. He moaned into the kiss, growing impatient before he took your shirt off, exposing you completely. You thought you were going to be shy and hide your body from him, but something about Dean made you feel comfortable and free.

"You're so beautiful." He said in pure adoration.

"You're making me blush." You said and meant it. His words were meaningful and true. No other person has ever made you believe the things they said. That was why you didn't even bother to go all the way with people you have been seeing. You could read right through them and see their true intentions.

Your hands were roaming freely all over his body. He was all muscles and covered in scars, each one telling a story of his life as a hunter.

He took his time on you, making sure you were comfortable and relaxed for him. His right hand went down to your naked body, feeling every bump and inch of your skin. Your lips parted as you let out a sigh. When he reached the most sensitive spot between your legs his thumb started to rub you in a circular motion while his lips never left your neck. .

“You like that?” He asked between kisses.

The only thing that escaped from your lips was a light: “Aha.”

“Good.”

He took your panties off exposing you completely under him. Soon his boxers followed. When you saw how big he actually was you swallowed nervously wondering how much it would hurt. You knew first times always hurt and it usually sucked, but so far you were enjoying every minute of it. He knew which buttons to push and which places to kiss.

He positioned himself between your legs and slowly entered you. You were holding on to his back, fingers deep in his skin as you gasped in discomfort. It hurt but it wasn’t as bad as you expected.

“Holy shit!” You said under your breath.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…just….move!”

He nodded and started to move slowly. It still hurt but after every slow thrust, it hurt a little bit less and less, until the pleasure took over the pain almost completely. He was taking it slow while kissing every inch of your skin he could get his lips on. You were breathing into each other while his thrusts became faster and stronger. You could feel yourself getting warmer and something in the lower part of your stomach. You weren’t sure what it was but you liked it.

“You’re hot!” He noticed, feeling your body temperature rise after every thrust.

“I feel weird!” You whispered into his ear before placing a kiss on his neck. “I think I’m close!”

It felt like a rollercoaster but instead of going up and down; you only went up until you couldn’t take anymore and just crashed. But the thing was your body temperature kept rising and rising until you reached your breaking point. You were both panting, gasping for air, your hands were leaving light scratches on Dean’s back and yet he didn’t even flinch.  

“FUCK!” You moaned, feeling the orgasm pierce through you. Your lips were parted, back slightly arched under Dean, but your eyes changed color – two yellow sparks appeared as you were experiencing your first big O.

“Dean!” His name didn’t leave your lips, just like a cigarette of a smoker.

Dean didn’t stop until you came down from the euphoric high. He watched your eyes go back to your normal color, following your body temperature.

When he stopped moving and collapsed on you, you kissed him on the lips and did what you’ve always wanted to do – you bit his nose.

“Why did you do that?” He smiled in confusion.

“You have a perfect nose and for some reason I’ve always wanted to bite it.” You explained.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He moved next to you, covered in sweat, wondering what he saw a few moments ago.

“(Y/N), did you feel your temperature rise before you came?”

“Yeah. It was weird and yet it felt amazing.”

“Yeah your eyes also changed color.” He added, thinking how perfect your nickname was. Zippie the human lighter.

“Changed color?”

“Yeah they were yellow, like you had sparks in your eyes.”

“Awesome!” You said and kissed his shoulder. “Sam is still going to kill you though!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah!”

That night you slept in separate beds since Sam was sharing the room with you. He came back three hours later and by that time you were both fast asleep.

The next morning during breakfast in the nearby diner, between stuffing your face with eggs and bacon, you decided to be a little bit of a dick.

“Sam, I found out something new about myself.”

Sam took a sip of his black coffee. “Really? What?”

Dean was ignoring the whole conversation, eating his pancakes.

“My body temperature rises and my eyes sparkle whenever I have an orgasm!”

Dean choked on his pancakes, while Sam stayed silent in shock before looking at Dean giving him his iconic bitch face.  

“Really, Dean?”

“Zippie, you’re a dick!” He told you.

“Your dick now since you like me that much, handsome!” You winked at him.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x reader fluff #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester angst #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader fluff #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #SPN #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn headcanon #SPN drabble #spn smut #spn fluff #Supernatural smut #supernatural fandom #supernatural fluff #dean smut #Sam Winchester

[silent-stories]

𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

Summary: You keep sleeping next to Dean, maybe this will finally lead to something else, one night.

Pairing: Dean × F!Reader 

Warning: mentions of death and blood, hurt!dean, fluff

Word count: 1203

Author’s Note: Did anyone need a part two? Absolutely not. Did I write it anyway? Yes.

First part here

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

After the night Dean came to your room, when he had a nightmare, he had come several more times that you lost count. Not every night, only when he couldn't sleep or just because he wanted to have you close to him.

Sometimes he would put his head on your chest as you run your hands throught his hair and he would fall asleep like that, listening to your heartbeat, other times he would hold you with his arms around you, pushing you close to him.

You never told him that every night you hoped to hear him knock on your door and that every time he didn't you would fall asleep waiting for him.

This time, however, was different. Very different. During a hunt Dean was injured by a werewolf and you found yourself in the back seat of the Impala trying to keep Dean awake while Sam drove as fast as he could to a hospital.

You helped him lie down and he put his head on your lap, you kept stroking his hair and telling him it was going to be okay all the time. When he closed his eyes, tears began to flow from yours, which stopped only when the doctor, about an hour later, told you that Dean would be fine.

When they let you, you entered the white room where Dean was staying.

"Hey." He smiled at you when he saw you.

"I hate you." It was the first thing that came to you to say.

"Thanks, just what I wanted to hear." He replied rolling his eyes.

"You could have died!" You bursted out.

"Who cares." He said, almost to himself.

"I care, Sam cares." You said as your eyes filled with tears again. "Don't try to do that again! Do you know how I felt when you lost consciousness on me in the car? Your hand stopped holding mine and you were losing a lot of blood! I thought you were dying!" You kept saying as a sob left your mouth.

"No, no sweetheart don't cry. I'm sorry, come here." He said softly, opening his arms for you.

You sat on his bed and softly hugged him, careful not to hurt him.

"I don't hate you, Dean. I'm sorry." You whispered after a while, Dean's arms holding you tight to him.

"I know." He said simply, moving a lock of hair that had fallen on your face.

You stayed next to him all night, even though he told you you could go home with Sam. The next morning, when you woke up, you were still in his arms.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Once, you slept next to Dean when you stopped at a motel where the heat broke down.

"Y/N, sweetheart, what's going on? You're shaking." Dean asked you that night, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Sam in the bed next to his.

"I'm cold." You said without turning to him.

For a moment, you didn't get an answer and you thought he probably decided to ignore you, then you heard your bed mattress lower as Dean sneaked into your bed. He wrapped you in his arms and pushed you against his body, you found yourself with your back pressed against his chest. Dean's body always gave off a pleasant warmth, you thought as he tucked the blanket around you.

"Better?" He whispered in your ear. You blamed the cold for the shiver that ran down your back.

"Mh-mh." You muttered nodding.

You heard Dean chuckle before you felt a kiss between your hair.

"Goodnight sweetheart."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You and Dean slept in the same bed in a motel one more time, after a hunt went south. You had managed to kill the wendigo, but not before a little girl was killed, she bled to death in a pool of her own blood. All the way to the motel Dean hadn't spoken and he hadn't even turned on the radio in the car.

At the motel, you found a room with two beds and when you walked out of the bathroom after taking a quick shower like Dean did earlier, you found him lying on a bed, staring at the ceiling. You said nothing and turned off the light, getting into the other bed.

You tried to sleep for a while, but you felt that something was wrong, opening your eyes and turning to the other bed you found Dean in the same position you left him, his open eyes staring at an indefinite point, his hands clenched into fists.

"Dean." You called him.

"I just can't sleep. It's okay." He answered quickly.

"You're not even trying." You said.

"It's my fault that that little girl died, how can I sleep?" He sighed, he really looked exhausted.

"It wasn't your fault, De. You couldn't have known there were two wendigos." You said sitting on your bed.

"If it wasn't my fault then why do I feel so bad?" He whispered.

"Can I come there? Please?" You asked pointing to his bed. He stared at you, some moon rays filtered through the window lighting up his face for a moment, then he just nodded.

Lifting the blanket, you sneaked into Dean's bed, snuggling up next to him. He didn't move.

"Dean, whatever your head is telling you right now, it's not true. It wasn't your fault." You said, your low voice had a slight echo in the room.

When his gaze finally met yours, you smiled.

"Don't make me tickle you." You said.

"And since when you are the one who tickles?" He said as the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"Since now." You giggled as your fingers reached his side.

He laughed before he quickly grabbed your hands to make you stop. "Don't even think about it, I'm the one tickling here, not you." He said as his fingers reached your stomach and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay, okay enough." You said when you had tears in your eyes. "Dean! Stop it!" You added when he didn't quit.

"See? I'm the one who tickles here. Not you." He said smiling at you, wiping a tear that ran down your face as his hand lingered for a moment on your cheek.

"Thank you for always being there for me." He whispered after a while.

"Well, now you're smiling. Mission accomplished." You said settling next to him again.

"And your "mission" was to make me smile?" He asked you raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I don't like seeing you down." You said as his arm wrapped around you and brought you as close to him as possible. You rested your head on his chest.

"And you have a contagious laugh, do you know that?" You added.

When he didn't answer, you looked up at him, did you say something wrong?

You didn't have time to meet his gaze that his lips collided with yours. Your mouths kept moving against each other as Dean ran one of his hands through your hair and you brought yours to his face and neck.

"God, it's much better to kiss you when you're awake." He told you when you broke the kiss as your lungs needed air.

"Wait, what?" You asked confused, trying to figure out if it was possible that Dean kissed you when you were asleep and trying not to smile at the idea.

"Oopsie." Dean laughed as his lips met yours again.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Tags: @eevvvaa @spn730015 @supernatural111222 @youcancallmelily @clairenovakanddeanwinchester @dads-on-a-hunting-trip @3amstillawake @supernaturalmess @marvelandsupernatural @agirlwatchingalotoftvshows

#dean fic #dean winchester fic #spn fic #supernatural fic #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #dean fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fluff

[laurel-finch]

'I Don't Bite' S1.Ch08: Stay

Summary: The Winchesters move on to their next hunt while the reader takes some time to herself... Referenced Episodes: mentioned S1 E15 "The Benders" CW: None. Word Count: 4349 Recommended Song: I Want To Break Free -- Queen Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- Next Chapter

It had been three days already, but it felt like minutes. To their surprise, I had refused to allow the boys to take me home. I had barely shared my logic, saying I didn't want to endanger them. That was the most I had said in days.

To say I was shocked by my actions was an understatement. Never had I experienced such brutality, not even with Chikaltio. But it wasn't just the shock that was getting to me, it was the horror as I recalled what I had done. It was so much worse than last time because this time I was truly angry. The lack of control was what frightened me, not the action itself.

We had driven as far west as we could the day after and settled in a motel. It was in a rather small farming community in North Dakota. I was thankful the boys were willing to stay with me, although they both seemed rather wary. They understood my situation though, and how much it was weighing on me.

I had been wrapped up in the same thick comforter for two days as if that could stop me from lashing out if I snapped again. I hadn't left the motel room and the most I moved was walking to the bathroom to take a long shower. At least one of the brothers was always with me, though I wasn't sure if it was for my safety or theirs. My hands shook and my lip quivered every time I slowly lifted my gaze to look over at whichever brother was busy babysitting me. It’s not like they wanted to be stuck with a hopeless monster.

The trip back to the motel the night of the incident was quiet. We had parted ways with Deputy Hudak on relatively good terms – she had agreed not to report the boys, regardless of her knowing Dean's real identity. Her warm eyes kept meeting my ragged form, covered in ragged, ripped clothes and a large coat thrown haphazardly around my shoulders. My jaws were clamped firmly shut as I swallowed the taste of blood down, using my tongue to scrape away the last of the flavor on my teeth. It was numbing and claustrophobic all at once.

For once, I tolerated the discomfort of the backseat of the Impala. I didn't have the energy to complain. I knew I should have been excited that Sam was back in his rightful seat, but I just couldn't. The scent of vomit hung in the air, and I believe it belonged to Sam. I couldn't blame him. I had half a mind to empty the contents of my stomach.

The near full moon was above the horizon, a sight that normally brought instinctive excitement. However, I wanted nothing more than to skin myself and hang my pelt as a flag of surrender. The thought of using my furred form made me sick.

I thought I had better control over myself now. I thought I wouldn't let it happen again.

I barely remember entering the motel room. I know I shrugged off any offer of assistance thrown my way nervously, fearing that I may hurt them too. I know now that I never willingly would. They're family. 

I say that as though those two words summarize every emotion I felt regarding the Winchesters.

I threw myself face-first onto the couch and curled into a ball before the boys had even set their stuff down. The room was silent for some time. I jumped, feeling a pair of arms lift me, and hissed at my gentle assailant. The rustling of fabric could be heard and I cracked one bloodshot eye to see Dean pulling back the covers on his bed. Sam carefully deposited me and the brothers worked together to smooth out the blankets. I didn't have the heart to argue.

I fell asleep to the sound of the brothers bickering over who would take the couch, my heart heavy and still covered in dried blood. The next morning I woke in the back seat of the Impala. I didn't remember being carried to the car, or even the start of our drive. I was still in the oversized old clothes that I had been loaned. We barely spoke.

Dean finally spotted a motel to his liking as the sun was setting. Sam paid for the room and the brothers brought in our minimal luggage while I took a shower. I was in the bathroom for a long time, scrubbing my skin raw and fighting with my now matted hair, twisted into bloody curls. To say it was an unpleasant experience was an understatement.

This trend continued for two more days, with utter silence from me unless asked a question and concern from the brothers. My presence felt bothersome and my skin itched with an anxious heat. Now I was seated on one of the motel beds, still wrapped in my comforter and willing to talk for the first time in days.

The boys sat at a small table under a window. I sat on the edge of the bed, my feet poking out from underneath the blanket wrapped tightly around me. I stared at my feet, not sure what to say. None of us were sure how to begin.

Sam sighed and ran a hand down his face before facing me with a stern look. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say this isn't the first time you've lost your cool like that." I flinched at the harshness of his words. Dean sputtered in his seat across from his brother. "Most people when they lose their shit look shocked. You looked terrified."

"Of course, I was terrified," I snapped back, voice no longer a whisper for the first time in days. "I didn't mean to. I just... was angry."

The room was silent once more until Dean finally spoke up. "What about the first time this happened? Did you...?"

The implication hung in the air. The brothers were always quick to put two-and-two together – my steadfast aversion to human dinners had to come from somewhere. The boys looked stressed but made no move to confirm or deny. I dropped my gaze once more. "Yeah," I whispered.

"Were you angry then, too?" Sam asked quietly.

"No. Far from it. It's... a bit of an embarrassing story." I lifted my head, locking eyes with them as they motioned for me to continue. "It was about a year before my mom died. I was fifteen, in high school and my boyfriend at the time had come to visit me at my home. My parents weren't in the house at the time," I exhaled shakily. "You can probably guess where this is going."

My eyes settled on Dean's as the realization hit him. "Oh shit. Were you..? Wait, you guys were-?"

"Kissing,” I said with a pointed look. I accidentally bit him. Broke the skin. Even if I hadn't killed him, he still would have turned." Fuck, this was hard to talk about it. Even with my parents, we just… ignored it and moved on. At least they did around me. I heard their fights when they thought I was asleep. "I tasted his blood and... kept biting. Next thing I know, my parents are storming in and I'm covered in blood.

"We had to leave after that. Moved to a new state. A year later, my parents got into a fight – nothing unusual there, they had a lot of fights, but this one was really bad.” I swallowed dryly and kept my gaze firmly rooted on the floor. My cheeks were red and my head hurt, disgusted with myself after silently vowing to keep this quiet for so long. “She was pissed. Went on a rampage for the first time since she had been bit. She… begged my uncle to put her out of her misery. Dad left after that and my uncle took me in. It was never supposed to happen again."

I felt sick just thinking about it. The taste of copper flooded my tongue and I swallowed, taking the flavor into the back of my throat. My tongue burned and I scraped the fresh wound across the back of my teeth. The pain was a good distraction. Horror, shock, pity. I hated the piteous looks.

"When that guy hit Sam... I don't want either of you to get hurt ever. It's... been a long time since I've had human blood, torn human flesh. It’s just… instinct, you know? You can fight it, but sometimes it just…” I huffed out a tired breath and pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders, hiding in its thick folds. Maybe if I buried myself far enough down, no one would see me, want me, fear me, touch me. Maybe I was better off not being seen.

"I’m gonna leave for a while, I think. Clear my head. It's hard enough for me to think about it, let alone for you to have watched. I need some time to… sort myself out."

My voice was becoming raspy over unshed tears. I had exhausted my ability to cry already. I played with the hem of my shirt beneath the heavy blanket and waited for their response.

"You don't have to leave," said Sam quietly. I raised my head in surprise, eyes wide. "We trust you."

My brows furrowed and my eyes narrowed. Two monster hunters who had known me for, what, a few months were saying they trusted me? “Why-?”

"You've never given us a reason not to, aside from trying to beat the crap out of us when we first met," Dean responded with a small, reassuring smile. "What you did, yeah, it was awful, but you had a reason. Everyone loses it from time to time – you losing it is just a bit bloodier than us losing it."

"Thank you," I sniffed, surprised to find tears welling up again. "And I won't let it happen again." I flashed them a weak smile.

—

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Sam offered, helping me pack my bag. He took a wad of cash and shoved it into one of the small, hidden pockets of my backpack.

"But I do want to. I've distracted you guys long enough. You need to go find your dad and get back to hunting things. That's what you do best, not moping alongside a traumatized girl," I joked back, smiling reassuringly. He chuckled softly.

"Dean's not going to like it.."

"Dean can pack sand. I'm not just doing this to protect you idiots – I'm doing it for myself, too. Think of it as... my spiritual journey, or whatever." Sam cracked up at this, a wide grin spreading across his features.

He handed me a few more of my clothes and an old but warm jacket that I recognized as Dean's. I quirked an eyebrow, too which Sam shrugged. "Dean doesn't wear it anymore, and I don't think he'd mind you taking it. You need something to keep you warm."

Right. No fur.

Sam called my name quietly, and I hummed in response. He brushed a brown lock out of his face, a worried expression settling upon it. "Are you sure you want to leave? You could at least wait for Dean to get back so he can give you a ride."

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," I attempted to reassure. My movements were hesitant as I reached a hand out to touch his shoulder. I swallowed dryly and attempted to ignore the sound of his pulse in his throat and the feeling of warm flesh beneath my palm. "I'll catch you later, Sam. Take care of your brother for me, make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble."

"Will do," he said, throwing up a mock salute.

With that, I was off and out the door of the motel room. The early morning sunlight nearly blinded me, but I didn't care.

I was momentarily free, and that's all that mattered.

—

Despite it not quite being spring yet, the North Dakota weather was quite warm. With not a tree in sight, it was just me and the bright sun, its rays beating down on me until I was dripping sweat. It didn't take long for me to remove my leather jacket and wrap it around my waist, the hot sun warming my now exposed shoulders.

I wasn't far from the eastern Montana border. I was in the badlands at this point, enjoying the scenery and the steep, jagged cliffs. Nothing like back home. The view rivaled that of the vast flax fields I had passed some hours ago, their stems and shoots a vibrant green. In just a few short months those fields would turn a pale purple from the sheer number of tiny purple flowers blossoming from the browning stalks. I wished I could be here to see that.

After hours of walking my limbs had found an odd rhythm with my feet thumping haphazardly against the paved highway. Sometime later I would take notice of my throbbing feet and aching knees, and tread a little more gently. Eventually, I would lose interest and continue with my thundering.

I was sure that by now Dean had been alerted to my absence. I knew he would be furious, but I hoped that he would eventually understand – after all, it wasn't a true goodbye. I knew that, had either of the boys asked me to, I would have stayed. Sam trusted me and my judgment, although he may not have agreed with it, and knew that my mind was set. He wouldn't try to change it. Dean, however, always believed there was a better way. He was pushy that way, always getting so fixated on the task at hand and finding the best solution. He wasn’t methodical about it like Sam was. No, he was all heart. That seemed to be a trend with my family – my mother and my uncle, despite being adopted siblings, shared the intensely passionate feelings of loyalty and pride that most hunters felt.

I remember the day I learned about his death. I had received a call from an officer in Georgia; they had found a body they wanted me to identify. I hardly believed it until I saw it with my own eyes.

It hit me like a semi when I saw him. I had expected him to look nightmarish, but the only flaw in his appearance was his ruptured skull, his missing brain, and his hair shredded. It was obvious that he had been attacked by the very wraith he had been hunting.

His face was immaculately clean, having been washed by the coroner before his autopsy. His eyes were closed and what I determined to be a faint smile was etched onto his lips. The skin around his eyes was wrinkled with age, and laugh lines were visible.

He had been a better picturesque father to me than my real father. My father had loved me, that was obvious, but he had never wanted children. The arguments between my parents had always been over what to do with me, and how to raise me.

My father showed his love through harsh tutelage. There was hardly a lesson he taught that didn't have me on my ass in the dirt. He taught me to fight, saying one day I would need to know how. I wanted to resent him, but I just couldn't. I loved him. After all, he was my father. The only thing I did resent about him was the fact that he left when I needed him. For all I knew, he could be dead.

I stretched, tossing my arms high in the air. I felt joints pop and muscles release their tension, brought in by my rather morbid thoughts. It was a good feeling. Despite my stature, I felt like I could nearly touch the sun. I was on top of the world, alone and free for the first time in months.

Alone.

The sun was sweltering now, and I was almost sure I would receive a burn from hours under its strong rays. In maybe two more hours the sun would set behind the tall plateaus, leaving me in darkness. I quickened my pace, still not sure where I was headed. Perhaps I could make it out of the badlands before the sunset.

—

I found a rest stop on the edge of the badlands where I happily spent the night. Sure, sleeping on the hard tile floor wasn't my favorite, but at least I was warm and had a roof over my head. I woke with the sun the next morning, feeling surprisingly refreshed and ready to face the day.

I knew I was deep in Montana, but I wasn't sure where. I was somewhere towards the western Montana border. I could see the Rockies towering above me, clawing at the sky.

I sighed and gently rubbed my tired eyes. There was a McDonald’s and a gas station built into the restaurant that my stomach demanded my perusal, despite my groan of protest. McDonald's was not food and no amount of pestering would ever make me think so. Give me a salad and an elk heart any day over fake, processed chicken nuggets, likely not even made with real meat. That was just the monster in me, craving fresh food. Preferably raw.

I scowled up at the taunting golden arches – I felt like they were laughing at me. With a loud, disgruntled huff I marched towards the glass doors of the small fast-food restaurant.

"The ice cream machine had better be working," I snarled quietly to myself.

I threw open the door a bit more roughly than I was anticipating - the entirety of the small restaurant glanced up at me in surprise and bewilderment. I smiled shyly and shut the door quietly behind me. With a rather fast gait, I made my way to the counter and hurriedly placed my order. I didn't want to be around humans more than I needed to.

Slinging my heavy backpack over my shoulder once more I made my way toward the restroom. It was hidden around a corner, not easy to spot at first. With a grumble I shoved the heavy swinging door open to the bathroom and tossed my bag on the floor, immediately rummaging through it.

I looked up, hearing the sound of a toilet flushing from one of the stalls, and caught the eye of a woman exiting.

The scent of a forest hit my nose, but it wasn’t the typical scent of pine trees. No, her scent made me picture towering forests and a thick layer of fresh, powdery snow lying on the ground. The tree limbs were bending under the weight of the snow, and eventually, they would tip just enough to deposit their powder onto the ground. I pictured mountains soaring above the tops of the trees, snow sprinkled on the sides of the towering giants, reminding me of powdered sugar.

My eyes widened and latched onto the girl's once more, finally refocusing. Her lips split into a shocked expression, her icy eyes wide. I had only met one other person with such an intense scent, and even then Dean spurred the image of cherries, not an entire wintry scene.

“I’m sorry, I- this isn’t? Is this your territory? I’m sorry I didn’t- uh… I'm Calliope," she said with a vague gesture to herself.

I uttered my name in return, returning her wide-eyed expression. I shook my head, scaring away the daze.

She looked to be about my age. She was more rugged than me and was rather muscular. She was tall and lean, but she didn't look like a fighter, more like someone who spent a lot of time running.

Her eyes were glacial, an odd color given her dark hair and tanned skin. Her hair was not quite brown, but not quite black. It was more gray, like dark charcoal, and was pulled into a tight ponytail. I imagined that if she had it down it would easily lay between her shoulder blades. Her skin was ashy but warm in color and dotted with the rare freckle.

I turned and fled.

My food still wasn't ready, causing me to growl out of frustration. Rather than asking them to hurry up, I grumbled lowly and marched out the door. I stopped and sighed, my breath fogging in the cool night air. The moon was waning again and in a few weeks, it would be gone.

"Remind me where you're headed again?" Calliope chirped behind me. I jumped, forgetting that she was there. I had half expected her to stay in the restaurant.

I sputtered, trying to gather my answer. "I-I'm just kind of wandering, really. I don't have a destination."

She grinned heartily, her eyes wild with enthusiasm. "Me too! Maybe we could travel together?" she offered. I scowled at this, and I could almost picture her ears drooping.

"I'm traveling alone for a reason," I stated, harsher than I had intended. The dejected look on her face made me want to take it all back. I shook my head and averted my eyes before taking a few steps toward the road.

"At least let me travel with you for the night," she offered. I glanced back over my shoulder at her. "It's not safe to be out here alone at night."

I huffed and flashed her a small smile. "I think I can handle it." Once more I turned away from her, her eyes glaring daggers into my back. 

She turned to me with a soft pout and began talking. "You know, you could get to wherever you're going a lot faster if you just changed shape."

I tensed and shrugged it off, doing my best to hide my discomfort. "I'm enjoying taking it slow."

She quirked an eyebrow and faced forward again, her eyes scanning the empty road in front of her. "That's a lame excuse." I tensed once more and tossed a frigid glare at her, my grip on my backpack straps tightening. I was capable of shifting, it wasn't like I was physically incapable, but each time I grasped for that familiar feeling of my body blanketed in warm fur, it just… slipped between my fingers like grains of sand. Hard to cling onto and force to the surface. A mental barrier. Fear.

I had tried to shift shortly after the incident, one of the first few nights with the boys. I tried, and I came close. My fur had grown out and I could feel my bones trying to rearrange, but I hadn't been able to go all the way. Since then, anytime I tried I just regressed further. Now I could hardly make the molten color surpass the regular color of my eyes.

"You are a skinwalker, right? Don't tell me I-"

"I'm a skinwalker," I interjected, my eyebrows furrowed and anger rising on my features. "And I can shift. I'm not... defective or anything."

She shrugged in response and faced forward once again. "I suppose that explains why you smell weird, though." At this, I quirked a brow.

"What do you mean?"

She chuckled and clasped her hands behind her back. "You smell... almost scared? And human. Like... really human. Were you turned recently or something?"

I barked out a laugh and she jumped, thoroughly not expecting that reaction. "No, I wasn't turned recently.”

“Neither was I.”

I quirked a brow and stared from the corner of my eye. She matched me step for step, her eyes locked forward and brows furrowed.

“When?” I asked.

She hummed thoughtfully for a movement, contemplating where to begin. “Long time ago. I was young, it was targeted.” She scowled at that last word and turned away for just a moment before continuing her story. “My parents didn't know what to do when I started turning into a puppy all of a sudden.

"They put me in foster care when no one believed them," she said the last part with a chuckle. "I ran away from the group home I was in a couple of times – finally got away with it when I was about thirteen. I've been on my own ever since, save for the occasional other monster I've met and hung out with for a while." She grinned at me and turned around, walking backward again. "What about you? What's your story?"

I chuckled softly, not wanting to share now. My story felt… like nothing compared to my staggering tale. "Not too much to tell. I wasn't turned. I was born like this."

She stopped in her tracks, her blue eyes widening. "That’s new.”

“It's not common, but it's not impossible."

"So then why aren't you shifting?" I stiffened again. I glared suspiciously at her and her eyes were wide with curiosity. "Is that another reason why you smell weird? Cause you’re... what, purebred?" I huffed and grabbed onto the straps of my backpack again.

"I don't know what I smell like, so I don't know."

"Earthy," she said softly. "And strong... but also afraid..? But not afraid like an animal is when it's being hunted. More like... insecure, if that's possibly a smell?"

"So I smell like dirt, power, and insecurity?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

I chuckled, a light blush blossoming on my features. "Well I don't know about the power or insecurity, but the dirt is probably from the fact that I haven't been able to shower in the last three days."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, that's probably it. I bet the power is from your pedigree. And I think you know more about your insecurity scent than you're letting on." She wiggled her eyebrows playfully.

I smiled slightly, flashing white teeth at her. "Probably. Maybe if you stick around long enough, you'll find out."

She smirked widely, looking ecstatic. "Does that make us traveling buddies?"

I chuckled. "For now."

#the shenanigans are beginning #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #fluff #angst #slow burn #supernatural x reader #x reader #female reader #cross posted on ao3 #cross posted on wattpad #supernatural fanfiction #monster reader #monster #original characters #original monster characters

[slvtwh0re]

Hello! How are you? I saw your post about requests and was wondering if you could write a one shot (Sam Winchester x reader).

The reader is hit by a spell that makes her feel a lot of pain, to the point of screaming. She also has a fever and even convulsions as the pain gets stronger. Sam takes care of her and tries to save her before the pain kills her.

I Bet On Losing Dogs

angst/fluff; spn, sam winchester

Warnings: pain, crying, near-death experience

Note: Thank you for your request! I hope you enjoy :)

Pain was something you were used to, but this hurt was something new. You were curled in a ball in the backseat of the Impala, screaming at the intense pressure running through your body. Sam cradled you and pushed Dean to drive faster.

The day had started off normal - well, as normal as it could for the three of you. You woke up, kissed Sam good morning, and prepared to hunt the witch you guys had been trailing. Things took a turn for the worst when you were caught by surprise and the witch had enough time to cast a spell.

None of you were quite sure what the spell was, but all you knew was that it felt like you were dying. Hell, that could be the case. You were trembling in Sam's lap, feeling uncomfortably hot but sweating at the same time. You cried and gritted your teeth, gripping onto Sam's coat.

"Dean, how far are we?!" Sam brushed your hair out of your face, where it was sticking to your sweaty skin.

"We're almost to Bobby's," Dean assured them, glancing back at the two. "Don't worry, Y/N; we'll fix you."

You couldn't even utter a reply, and that was enough to prove the urgency of the situation. It felt like you were getting weaker by the second. Your eyes began falling closed, no matter how much you fought the sleep.

Sam looked down to see you with your eyes closed, body limp in his arms. Suddenly, your body began to convulse, making Sam jump in surprise. He rolled you on your side, trying to hold your head steady.

"Dean, go!" he yelled.

"Shit," he cursed. "We're almost there. Hold on..."

By the time you three pulled into Bobby's driveway, your body had stilled. Sam felt your neck, noticing the light pulse and breathing a sigh of relief at the fact you were still alive. He slid his arms under you and began running towards Bobby's house, with Dean quick on his heels.

"Bobby!" he yelled, pushing the door open with his foot.

Bobby came rushing out of the living room at the panic lacing Sam's voice. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you. "Get her on the couch," he commanded. "What happened?"

Sam set you down, propping pillows under your head as Dean explained. "The witch we were hunting hit her with a spell before we ganked her... Goddamn witches! Y/N was in pain - bad, like screaming and crying. I mean, Hell, she seized in the back of my car! What the hell is this, Bobby?!"

Bobby sighed. "Goddamnit... I know what's wrong with her, and I know how to reverse it - if we still have time, that is?"

"What?" Sam uttered, glancing away from you to look at them. "Do it, do the spell!"

"We don't have everything we need," Bobby replied, moving towards his pantry. "Now, if we do this quick, we can get it. Dean, I'm gonna make you a list. We'll get what we need and pray we make it home in time to heal her."

"What about me?" Sam asked.

"You stay with her and make sure she stays alive."

He watched as Bobby and Dean booked it outside. They had a mission, and time was running thin. Sam sighed and rested his head on the arm of the couch, right beside yours. He looked at you, remembering what you looked like when you were smiling at him.

"We're gonna help you, sweetheart," he whispered. "But you gotta fight... You can't die on me. I can't lose you..."

You and Sam had been together for quite some time now. Everyone was so used to how things were; you, Sam, and Dean, hunting together. Spending weeks at Bobby’s and random motels. Late night drives in Baby, rounds of drinks at the bar.

The three of you had been faced with death several times. Sam and Dean had managed to escape it more than any human should. But you’d never come this close - passed out, breathing ragged, and your pulse hardly noticeable. Sam had never been in this position, praying you’d wake up but being unable to do anything to help you.

“If you were awake right now, I know you’d ask me to talk to you,” he continued, reaching down to grab your limp hand. “To keep your mind occupied, off the pain… I don’t even know if you can hear me, but…”

It felt too strange for him to be sitting in a silent room with you, whether you were awake or not. Both of you always had something to talk about, whether it be research, reminiscing, or simply small talk. All of the sudden, he felt himself missing your voice and hating the sound of his own, but he continued.

“Do you remember when you and I took that road trip, just us? I’m surprised we got that much time without a case…” he chuckled dryly, forcing the laugh to make the conversation feel more genuine. “We had the jankiest car and hardly any money, but we made it fun. I still think about how pretty you looked that one night, when we went to the beach. That dress you wore, the smile on your face… We’ll make more of those memories. We have to, Y/N.”

The front door swung open and Dean stepped in, holding a bag in his hands. “I got the stuff, is Bobby back?”

Sam lifted his head and then said, “No.”

“How is she?” Dean dropped the bag on the table and walked into the living room, crouching down beside Sam.

“She’s still breathing, so…”

“Hey, Y/N.” Dean smiled at you, gripping your shoulder gently. “You’re gonna be fine.”

A few minutes passed with the brothers sitting beside you, waiting for Bobby to return. The ticking of the clock only fueled both of their panic. You still weren’t awake, unmoving and getting weaker by the second.

“Damnit, where is he?” Sam muttered, moving his gaze to stare out the window.

“He’ll be here,” Dean finalized, praying that he was right. “She’s gonna be fine, Sam.”

Before Sam could further voice his worry, Bobby came rushing inside. He didn’t take the time to ask any questions or explain anything. He simply grabbed Dean’s bag and began dumping the supplies onto the table.

“What can we do, Bobby?” Dean asked, climbing to his feet.

“Get me a piece of her hair,” he commanded as he poured an endless amount of things into a large bowl.

“Why?” Sam inquired, nonetheless reaching for your hair. He skillfully removed a strand and handed it to Bobby - you didn’t budge.

“The spell that was cast on her slowly drains the life out of her. Starts with the vital organs, so her body begins shutting down. Then, the other parts of her go with it - her memories, her spark, the thing that makes her her,” he explained as he gently placed the hair into the bowl.

“Wait-” Sam held his hand up. “She’ll be herself again after this, right?”

Bobby sighed, pausing to look at Sam. “Honestly… I’m not sure. If this reversal manages to heal her body and give her the rest, I’ll be surprised.”

“So, even if her body heals, she could be missing parts of her? Her memories, the things we’ve been through-”

“She’ll be fine, Sammy,” Dean interrupted. The longer they waited, the more he felt his nerves. You mattered to him, and first and foremost, he wanted you alive. They could worry about everything else later.

“According to legend, she’ll be okay,” Bobby assured Sam. “But we need to do this now. Dean, lighter.”

Dean handed Bobby a light. He grabbed a piece of paper covered in Latin scribblings and held it to the flame. Once it caught, he dropped it into the bowl.

Sam quickly moved back to your side as the spell burned. He watched you like a hawk, looking for any signs of movement. Dean and Bobby did the same from a distance.

It felt like time slowed as they waited. The flames began to shrink until they finally dissipated into nothing. For a moment, it seemed like there was no coming back…

…Until you did.

You inhaled a deep breath, feeling the fresh oxygen fill your lungs. It no longer felt like your insides were being ripped out, and your heart wasn’t pounding in your ears anymore. You looked around the living room of Bobby’s house, eyeing each person individually.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief before quietly saying, “Y/N…?”

Blinking a few times, you reached out to hold his face. “Hi, Sam…”

The nervous look on his face contorted into a smile and he felt a breathy laugh escape him. Dean grinned and moved forward to softly ruffle your hair, saying, “I told Sammy you’d be fine.”

“Good job, kid,” Bobby added. “You scared us for a second, there.”

You smiled softly, nodding. “I scared myself.”

“I hate witches,” Dean murmured.

“Believe me - me too,” you agreed. “But… I really need to shower. I’m all sweaty.”

Sam shook his head, chuckling as he stood and held a hand out to you. Of course, a warm shower was the second thing you thought of after beating death - after him, of course. You gladly took his hand and followed him upstairs, into Bobby’s bathroom.

Once you two were behind closed doors, he took the opportunity to kiss you. Although you’d been asleep for the remainder of your painful journey, you had still missed him. Knowing that you were so close to never seeing him again didn’t sit right with you.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” Sam pleaded against your lips, resting his forehead against yours.

“I don’t plan on it, sweetheart.” You smiled at him reassuringly. “Now, I’d like to take a shower and get some actual rest.”

Sam tucked your hair behind your ear, handling you with the utmost care. “I think that’s a great idea.”

[boywifesammy]

imagine repressed & closeted transfem dean who never figures it out. imagine the sheer amount of guilt, fear, self-hatred and disgust he’d feel at what he is. big, clunky, dangerous. he takes comfort in his power, but it makes him feel sick. when he looks into the mirror and sees his hard edges, his body feels like it’s trying to rip open from the inside, yet he has no idea why.

dean plays his father’s wife until he dies. he takes care of sam and raises him as if he’s his own son. he’s a housewife in everything but reality. he desperately wants family, desperately wants to nurture, but his body isn’t built for that.

he’s taught by john and the world that he has to be strong. he has to be a man. he can never show emotion, because it’ll only be a weakness, and weakness is deadly. dean can never have a family because his body is wrong and he can never love like a woman because he cannot be weak.

so dean holds tight to those little moments of female connection with sam and his father like a dirty secret. he lays in bed at night and pretends he doesn’t think about being softer and lovelier. he stares at himself in motel mirrors until it makes him sick. he builds muscle and crops his hair short because this thing inside of him terrifies the hell out of him and he has to do anything to keep it at bay.

women comment on his looks a lot. when he’s young, they call him pretty, beautiful, gorgeous. they compliment his soft green eyes and plush lips and spattering of freckles. secretly, dean loves it. it makes that thing inside of him flare up in joy, which is why he knows that this is dangerous, and not something to be indulged. he stays up at night obsessing. shaves every morning and runs his fingers over his soft cheeks, flutters his long eye lashes, tries to find the soft edges of his cheekbones.

this thing is slowly eating away at him. the closer he gets to it the more volatile he feels. he jerks off under the blankets with a hand over his mouth to stifle the gasping, whimpery sounds he makes. the sound of his own voice scares him. his throat chokes up when a guy hits on him and john gives him a glare. one time he puts a finger up his ass and comes so hard that he sees stars, not because of the stimulation, but just from the idea of being wet and slick and pliant between his legs.

dean loves women and it makes him feel sick to the very core. he wishes that he loved women in a normal way. instead, he sees their curvy bodies and an awful, disgusting mixture of greed-lust-jealousy rocks through him. it’s all a strange, roundabout way of wrecking himself, because it’s extremely easy to play the role they want him to play, but god if it doesn’t hurt like hell.

dean loves fucking women. he’s desperate in bed but he’s always sure to be gentle with his thrusts. it makes him feel less disgusting. he likes shoving his face into a chick’s pussy, eating her out until she’s dripping, or nuzzling into the crook of her neck as he fucks her wet cunt. he likes listening to their gasping whines and moans. the feeling of it all makes his teeth clench with guilt; her cunt on his dick, his strong thighs, the way she keeps moaning his name. but it’s so easy to pretend in moments like these.

dean puts his face into her hair, and smells her citrus shampoo as she wails out cries. he doesn’t imagine being her, but he focuses on her noises, on the softness of her body and the wetness of her pussy. he always cums silently, his entire body quivering and shaking, because he’s too scared of the noise that’d come out of his mouth if he opened it.

when rhonda hurley makes him wear her panties, he nearly throws up on her carpet from how hard his heart is beating. they’re silky on his dick. rhonda calls him pretty, beautiful, she strokes at his flaccid penis through the panties and kisses messy lines up his belly. dean is hard and shivering by the end of her teasing, leaking through the panties and flushed from head to toe.

rhonda is both the best fuck that dean ever has and his worst fears coming to life. she calls him good girl as he fucks her. it ends embarrassingly early. when dean cums, it’s with a gasping cry of her name and a girly little keen that haunts his nightmares. he doesn’t remember ever cumming so hard in his life. he shook with aftershocks for minutes after, dazed and disgusted with himself.

rhonda gives dean her number. he never calls her back. after dean leaves that town, he burns the panties and stops shaving his stubble so short. memories of rhonda make him angry. he sinks into hunting and drinks until he’s cross-eyed. dean takes solace in the horror of violence. he bathes himself in that disgust and he feels right at home in the middle of it.

sometimes, dean can’t sleep at night from how sick he feels. he tries to figure out why, but he can’t place the reason. it eats him up inside. makes him feel like a monster. he thinks that he may just be a disgusting freak of a man.

as dean gets older the comments about him getting pretty melt away. he knows he’s objectively extremely attractive, in a male model sort of way, but it doesn’t match up with the images in his head.

the thoughts get more and more humiliating as time goes on. he’s not a twink anymore and he can’t be fantasizing about being fem, but he can’t stop it. he stays up at night itching in his own skin, brutally aware that he’d look hideous and disgusting in anything girly. his body is too big and bulky. he’s a freak for being into that sort of thing.

dean eventually admits to himself that he might be a little gay. he keeps it on the dl, visits gay bars when they hit more liberal cities, and doesn’t ever repeat the same place. he likes being dressed up and bent over. he chalks it all up to a crossdressing fetish, and while that’s humiliating and sickening, it’s easier than having to deal with whatever it is that’s going on with him.

dean aches inside perpetually because he is flawed. he wants to hold his child in his arms and wear dresses and flirt shamelessly with men. he knows he’s a freak for it but he’s accepted that he’s going to perpetually live with this pain.

he gets older and older and the dysphoria gets so fucking bad that he can’t even look in the mirror anymore, but it doesn’t matter at this point. he’s completely disconnected himself from his body. he’s a sick, perverted freak in the body of a man and none of it feels right. he uses his body like a tool, a weapon, and he purposefully keeps it masculine and well-toned to push back any illusions that he’s anything but a man.

and sometimes, he’ll go to gay bars and let himself get railed to incoherence. he’ll drive three towns over while sam’s asleep and put on his makeup in an alleyway nearby. he always looks for men bigger than him. men who’ll call him pretty and beautiful and treat his ass like a cunt.

and if he’s lucky, maybe they’ll let some other words slip. maybe they’ll call him babygirl or darling or play with his pecs like tits as they pound him deep. and sometimes, if he’s really lucky, he’ll get to wear something pink and lacy. sheer panties. a bralet. stockings or a necklace.

he always cums in the first few minutes on those nights. he doesn’t mind being fucked until the other guy finishes, as long as he keeps calling him a good girl for taking it.

dean always throws up in the club bathroom afterwards. he spends hours wiping off all the makeup from his face and sleeps in the impala for the night. he gives himself another wipe the morning after and tells sam that he was out with a one night stand. it technically isn’t a lie.

one time, sam makes a joke about dean being a woman. he pushes. he calls him a pretty lady, and dean is horrified when his eyes wet a bit at it. he can’t take it. he starts the fight, but sam wins it. he pins dean down and starts to yell at him. then he sees that dean is crying. he isn’t making any noise or shaking, but his cheeks are wet.

don’t, is all he says. it hurts like hell to get out. sam seems confused, but he doesn’t question it. he doesn’t make the joke again. dean forgets about the whole thing and pretends he doesn’t feel the weird looks sam sends him sometimes.

dean dies like that, alone and angry, in a body that’s all hard edges and grief and hatred.

he’s the same in heaven. he can’t imagine being any other way. he doesn’t even know what he wants, what would make him happy. most days, he’s happy with driving his impala aimlessly, drinking while watching sunsets and tuning into the world around him. thinking, and thinking, and thinking. about rhonda hurley and her satin panties and his father and the soft, warm thing buried inside of him.

dean doesn’t know why he feels sick inside when he looks at himself, but he’s too broken to ever figure it out. the only thing that he knows is that he doesn’t feel guilt the same in heaven. that means that when he has those strange dreams of warm kisses, strong arms around his tiny waist, and the warm, beating heat of his child’s heart against his own pillowed chest, he can spend some time in bed in the morning trying to recollect the memories without hating himself for it.

#oc #supernatural #spn meta #transfem dean winchester #mtf dean winchester #sam winchester #character analysis #trans headcanon #me ramblibg incoherently again about tbe nuance and intricacy of trans winchesters #this ended up WAYYY longer than i intended #but god my heart HURTS just thinking about her #transfem dean is so uniquely devastating she tears me up inside #i use he/him prns for her here because it works better with context #and she never actually comes to terms with her gender #but god i love her to bits she’s my little girlie

[bubblegumfrosting]

Hunted pt. 3

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Vampire!reader

Summary: Will Dean warm up to you or continue seeing you as a monster?

Warnings: Pain, wound description, pus, mentions of drinking blood, getting undressed, swearing, mentions of attempted SA, mentions of murder

A/n: AHHH I hope you liked this part!!! There is probably going to be one or two more after this one ;)

Tags: @something-noir @fairy-alix

The smell of bacon and eggs lulled you awake. You can’t remember the last time you ate a home cooked meal. When you were small you’d beg your mom to make French toast every morning, of course she didn’t but when she did it was always special.

You slowly pulled yourself from out of the warm covers and onto the smooth concrete floor. While using the night stand as a crutch you examined your bandaged foot. There was a sickly yellow color seeping through the white fabric.

You sat back down onto the bed not wanting to leave the room in fear you’d over stay your welcome. Something caught your eye though, the once shut door was slightly open just how you asked Dean to do last night.

The gesture made you smile, although it was such a small act of empathy, it was the first act of compassion you’ve been shown since you turned.

Foot steps approaching the door pulled you out of your thoughts and made your heart quicken, thankfully it was Sam.

“Hey, uh I’m here to check the bandages. And I brought you breakfast.”, he awkwardly shifted towards you which caused you to flinch out of habit. “Hey, hey, I’m not going to hurt you.”, he set the plate of food on the bedside table and slowly went down on his right knee and gestured you to place the injured foot on his left knee.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to flinch..”, you whispered and placed your foot for him to examine.

“You’re okay, you’ve had a rough couple of days.”, Sam said giving you a reassuring smile. The way the man looked at you was gentle as if he was afraid to break you. You were used to being treated as a threat so his caring nature felt foreign.

Sam slowly undid the bandages making sure he didn’t hurt you. Once the cut was exposed pus oozed out causing you to clench your jaw due to the pain.

“It’s infected..”, Sam grimaced and reached into the lower draw of the nightstand pulling out a new roll of bandages. “I thought vampires regenerated?”, Sam questioned as he wrapped your foot.

“They do, I don’t have that ability though.”, you replied. Sam nodded softly understanding your situation, “Why are you helping me?”.

“I know what it’s like to feel like a monster.”, Sam said solemnly.

You were shocked, how could a hunter possibly feel like the thing they hunted?

“What do you mean?”, Sam finished wrapping your foot and proceeded to sit next to you.

“I sorta started the apocalypse and was addicted to drinking demon blood.”.

“Wow..that’s um something.”, you fiddled with your fingers and Sam chuckled at your reaction.

“Once your foot feels better you can leave this room if you want.”, he got up and you did the same just slower.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Your brother doesn’t seem to want me here..”.

“Yeah well he has his issues, he’s probably just upset because you took over his room.”, Sam said nonchalantly.

This was Dean’s room? You can’t explain why but you felt your cheeks warm up. The thought of sleeping in his bed made your heart quicken. You internally cursed at yourself, having a thing for a hunter is definitely not a smart idea, plus he wants you dead…but you couldn’t deny it, he was cute.

“Uh, I was wondering if I could take a shower?”, you were embarrassed to ask but you felt dirty and couldn’t stand it.

“Yeah sure, bathroom is down the hall. Towels should be in there.”, he started to leave but turned back, “I uh can get your stuff from your motel if you want?”.

“That would be amazing, thank you so much!”, he nodded his head with a smile and left.

After you finished the plate of food Sam brought, you headed down the hall to where he said the bathroom was.

Once you found it you were surprised to see how large the bathroom was. It almost had a locker room feel to it.

Before undressing you made sure to close the door. When you took of your clothes they basically fell off by themselves. Most of them were in shambles, definitely unwearable. You ignored the bruises and scabs on your knees from the night of the attack and stepped into the shower.

The much needed shower felt amazing, the water cleaned away the dirt and grime from your body. Afterwards you felt refreshed and much more awake. You grabbed a towel from the hanger and wrapped it around your body.

You quickly scurried back to Dean’s room as your wet feet made slapping sounds against the smooth ground. You don’t know how long you were in the bathroom but when you returned to the room Sam had already retrieved your belongings.

You dried off and put on your favorite shirt and sweatpants, although your hair was still dripping down your back, this was best you’ve felt in awhile.

You used this moment as an opportunity to try and make amends with Dean. You made your way down the hall way, opposite direction of the bathroom, and eventuality found a room with a high ceiling and a table with chairs surrounding it.

In one of the chairs there he sat, Dean. He was too busy reading a book whose title was in some ancient language to notice your presence.

“De-Dean?”, he looked up at you and gave a pissed off look than returned back to his book.

“So you get to know my name but I don’t get to know yours?”, his words laced with poison.

You inched closer to the table and he didn’t seem to care so you took a chair and sat in front of him.

“If you wanted to know my name, you could just ask..”, you brought your knees to your chest and stared at him. You were completely in awe of his looks.

“Just because I’m not looking at you doesn’t mean I can’t feel your gaze.”, you got embarrassed and looked away.

“Sorry.”, you paused, “Y/n by the way.”.

“What?”, he said and placed the book down to meet your eyes.

“My name, it’s Y/n.”, you gave him a smile hoping he is warming up to you.

“Well, Y/n, when are planning on leaving?”, he obviously wasn’t warming up to you.

Instead of answering his question you took his book and flipped it upside down, “Hm, I’m not sure if I’m reading this the wrong way or if it’s in a different language.”.

Dean snatched it back trying to suppress a laugh, “It’s enochian, the language used by angels.”.

“Angels? So if you’re reading it does that mean you’re an angel?”, you didn’t know where this sudden surge of confidence came from. You were perhaps delirious due to the pain form your foot.

“No. Although I’d fit the part perfectly, I’m not. My friend Cas is though.”, you laughed at him but when he just started back in a serious manner you knew he wasn’t joking.

“Wait..you know an “angel” and his name is “Cas””, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Yes. Now if you’re just going to sit here and annoy me than I’m going to leave.”, Dean got up and walked up the stairs.

“Nice talk..”, you said under your breath.

The rest of the day you explored the bunker, it was huge and there were many rooms. You eventually circled back to the table room and decided to go back to Dean’s room.

When you entered you were startled by Dean sitting at his desk, “Oh, I’m sorry.”, you awkwardly made your way to the bed but he didn’t pay you any mind. “Could I sleep here?”.

“Sure, I’ll be working on decoding this tablet.”, he said coldly.

You slipped under the covers and were greeted with the familiar scent of whiskey and cheap cologne. Dean’s presence was calming, although he hated your guts you felt safe with him.

You drifted off into a restless sleep. You were back in the alley way, the man had you on your knees and he looked down at you with a sickening smile.

“Please no!”, you screamed.

“You deserve this you dirty fucking monster.”, he started to unbuttoned his pants like he did that night.

You blacked out again but when you woke up it wasn’t him that was dead, it was your family.

“NO! No god no oh my god..”, you were crying and kicking in your sleep. You kept screaming for your parents and repeating that it was all your fault.

Dean shook you awake, “Hey! Y/n! Wake up!”, you jolted up and looked at Dean who was in shock.

Before you or him could grasp the situation you fell into his arms and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you. The hug was awkward at first but he basically melted into you after a minute.

“You’re okay, I promise.”, he whispered.

It was at this moment Dean realized how human you were. You were broken and scared like how he was when he was a kid. His heart ached remembering everything you went though and the things he said to you.

“Am I.”, you croaked, “Really a monster?”.

“No no, I’m so sorry Y/n.”, he held you closer to him wanting to shield you from the world.

That night you told Dean everything as he held onto you, he shared what him and Sam went through. Both of your lives seemed pretty fucked.

I’m just a few hours you felt closer to Dean than anyone else you’ve met. For so long you both felt alone and you were both desperate for comfort.

“You can stay here as long as you need.”, you pulled back and looked at Dean.

“Really?”, you sniffed.

“Really.”.

A/n: sorry if this may have felt rushed, I kinda wanted to emphasize how desperate both Dean and Y/n are for a sense of comfort and found it in each other.

#dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x y/n #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #sam winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction #Dean #dean winchester x you #Dean Winchester/you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester/reader #Dean Winchester angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #dean/reader #Dean x reader #dean/you

[aylacavebear]

Stockroom Antics - Chapter 8

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

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

Word Count: 1090

Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This chapter switches back and forth on POV's. This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic.

----------------------------------------- Stockroom Antics Chapter 8

Dean stayed at the bar and finished his beer before he headed back to the motel. He didn’t even call Sam. At least the warding sigil that Sam had found had worked at keeping her powers from affecting him.

He wondered if he’d have to end up getting another tattoo with her going to be staying with the two of them in the bunker. That thought made him wonder how he would even bring it up to his brother.

“You could have at least called,” Sam sighed, slightly frustrated as Dean walked into the motel room.

“I had a lot on my mind,” he replied, distracted.

Sam watched his brother, trying to figure out what could have had his brother that distracted, “Did the sigil work?”

“Yeah, worked great,” he chuckled, sitting down on his bed and rubbing his face with his hands.

“Okay. So, what happened?” Sam asked him, trying not to get frustrated with him.

“So, uh… we’re picking her up in the morning,” Dean practically mumbled.

“Wait? We’re what?” Sam asked. He’d heard his brother; he just wasn’t sure he believed what he’d heard.

Dean then proceeded to explain what had happened, how she’d figured things out, and what Dean had offered to her. Sam got up and grabbed a beer once Dean was done talking. He was trying to figure things out in his head on how this whole thing would work. Mostly, it was because they’d have to have that sigil drawn on them so her powers didn’t affect them, even if she wasn’t evil. They just didn’t know what her powers would do to them.

“Why do you have to make those kinds of decisions without talking to me about it first?” Sam finally asked him, sitting down on his own bed so that he was looking at Dean.

“What would you have suggested then?” Dean asked, looking over at him.

Sam sighed, “Probably the same thing,” he paused, taking a sip of his beer, “How’d she seem about the whole thing?”

“Honestly, like her whole world got turned upside down. I just didn’t see another option, knowing Crowley wants her,” Dean answered, “At least we have the resources at the bunker.”

The two packed up their belongings that night, making it easier to head out in the morning. There was mild conversation, mostly having to do with a less permanent way to keep the sigil on their bodies than getting a tattoo. 

When morning did come, the boys had coffee, packed up the car, and then grabbed some breakfast before heading out to her place. Before they left, Dean drew the sigil on the back of Sam’s shoulder before Sam retraced over the one on Dean. The drive was long, but the drive back to the bunker would be longer. 

During the drive, Sam called her work, posing as the FBI. He explained to her boss that she was a target and they had to take her into witness protection so she would be out of work for an undetermined amount of time. Luckily, her boss didn’t give him too much of a hard time about it.

It was just after nine when they arrived. Dean parked just out front of her trailer, then went over and knocked on her door. He saw the curtain move before he heard it unlock.

“Come in,” she mumbled, only opening the door and stepping away so he could enter.

His smile faded as he entered her home. It didn’t look like much. It barely looked comfortable, let alone insulated. She closed the door behind him, then moved around him to open yet another door that actually led into the trailer he’d parked outside of. Dean followed her inside, taking note of how well the door was built.

She sat down on what looked like a home-built couch with cushions on it. “Did you want some coffee?” 

“Na. My brother’s waiting,” he replied, taking a look around. He still couldn’t figure out how she enjoyed being in this kind of living situation. This trailer was warmer than what he found out was an enclosed porch that he’d entered off the get-go.

“Oh, okay,” she sighed, “I hope I didn’t pack too much. You didn’t give me a timeframe, so I just packed.”

When she pointed toward his left, his gaze followed, “It’ll fit, and don’t worry. We’ll try to get this figured out quickly.”

Dean saw the way she moved, the sadness in her eyes. If he had to guess, she almost had the look of defeat. She grabbed her purse and then slung her backpack over her shoulder. He stopped her, though, when she reached for the crate.

“I got it,” he told her with a soft smile, but she only nodded before opening the doors for him.

The duffel bag was a bit heavier than he’d anticipated. The girl could pack. He managed, though, slinging the duffle over his shoulder, grabbing the crate, and then heading outside. She locked up her home, placed her hand on the door, and closed her eyes. With her powers, she made it so that no one would enter her home or her truck or even be able to step foot on her property. It was far more potent than the protection spell she’d placed on the land.

With a heavy heart, she went over to the Impala, to the trunk where Dean was standing and waiting for her and the last of her things. She set her backpack down in the trunk, which he closed afterward. Then he walked around and opened the back passenger door for her. He barely heard her mumble ‘thank you’ before she slid inside.

Dean sighed, wishing there was something he could say that would at least help her smile, but nothing came to mind as he got in the driver’s seat, and they headed out. Sam turned so he could look back at her, and he, too, noticed what could only be described as defeat in her eyes.

“We will try to get this sorted out quickly,” Sam told her, the softness in his words causing her to look up at him.

“Thanks…” she replied quietly though.

Sam sighed and turned back around. He could tell she didn’t want to talk, at least not yet. The brothers shared a worried look before Dean went back to focusing on driving. They let the radio play quietly in the background but noticed how she mostly just looked out the side window.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 9

Link to the series Master List

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, leave me a comment, and I'll make sure to tag you.

#SPN #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spnfandom #spn au #supernatural #soulmates #spn fic #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 #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fic #dean winchester x oc #Dean Winchester x femaleOC #dean x female!reader #Dean Winchester x Female!Reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you

[1-800-papaya]

Not all witches are bad, some bake pie

Dean Winchester x Baker!Witch!June Haywood

******************************************************************

Sam and Dean Winchester, two names that seemed to strike fear into the hearts of unnatural creatures, you know all the things that go bump in the night. The two brothers had grown up being taught how to identify and hunt said creatures, whether it be a vampire, werewolf, or witch. Dean never once thought that one day he would find a monster that he just couldn’t justify hunting, that was until their latest case.

Winter had set in order in the small town of Littleton, New Hampshire. Sam believed that unusual number of suspicious deaths was cause enough for the boys to hightail it to the small town. It had taken the boys nearly two days to reach the town and after all that had happened recently the long drive seemed to settled Dean’s constantly racing mind. Dean focused on the road as his little brother rattled off the details of the case and who he figured might be their target. A young witch from the Scottish Highlands. The moment Sam had muttered the word witch, Dean’s brain kicked into hunter mode.

Witches, it just had to be a witch. The brothers had had enough trouble with Rowena that the mere thought of having to now hunt a witch stirred something deep in his stomach. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that last slice of pie with lunch.

“Really Sammy, a witch. You really had to pick a case involving a witch after all the mess we’ve been through with Rowena” Complained Dean as he pulled baby into the parking lot of the towns run down motel. Sam rolled his eyes as he gathered one of the many cards in the impala’s glove compartment.

The room was like all the others the pair had stayed in thought-out their lives. Cheap wallpaper that was pealing in places, worn out carpet and two beds that most likely seen some horrible acts of passion. Dean grumbled as he dumped his duffle and collapsed into the squeaky bed, both the bed and Dean smelt like death. Like the main room the adjoining bathroom was not in great condition – well good enough for a dingy motel. The warm water felt like heaven as it cascaded over his aching shoulders, while driving for such long periods hadn’t done wonders for Dean’s body he’d be demand if he let Sam drive his baby. By the time Dean had exited the bathroom – a plume of steam following him – Sam had returned with pastries and new information.

“She owns a bakery and bookshop further in town, I went and scoped the place and got us some food” Great the witch he was hunting baked, and by the looks of the container she baked pie, “The owner of the motel says her bakery is the best in town”. Dean groaned, why did the witch have to bake pie, pie of all things.

When the sun rose the next day, both hunters could tell that something had shifted. Dean had slept restlessly as his inner demons and angels fought for control over his moral compass as he wrestled with the idea that after so many years of hunting evil witches, this might be the first time that the witch he kills was not as evil as her counterparts. As such, Dean woke well before Sam rose from the depths of his own slumber, wrapping his jacket tightly around his torso and ventured out into the awaking town.

Littleton had been blanketed int a light dusting of snow, so Dean’s boots crunched under foot. He was starting to regret not taking baby on his early morning adventure. Lost in his thoughts, dean tired once again to justify the hunt the brothers were currently on and the death of a witch that he was about to be the cause of. The sleepy town was starting to awake by the time he had made the short walk from the motel to the centre square. A few shops and cafes dotted the border of the square, it didn’t take long for Dean to spot the witches bakery that his brother had mentioned the previous day. The bakery was a cute little café attached to a small bookshop – Sam would’ve loved the warm and cosy looking business. From where he stood, Dean could see movement in through the windows of the shop and unbeknownst to him, his own feet were carrying the seasoned hunter to the building. Through the front window, dean could see a short - well shorter than him and Sam – young women dressed in fluffy yellow sweater and tan trousers busying herself with setting up the store. She was waving a long twig like object around and tables effortlessly unstacked themselves followed by the corresponding mismatched chairs. She was a witch.

Dean didn’t realise he’d been staring at the young women until he was brought out of his stupor be the sharp unmistakable sound and a surprised shout. A loud clatter followed the shout as her concentration was broken, she then rushed to greet him.

“I’m sorry, I’m not open yet” She spluttered after opening the main wooden door, a small ding echoing her words.

“I…I didn’t mean to startle you, I’m Dean” Dean introduced himself without thought of the fake FBI badge that sat heavily in his pocket.

“Dean Winchester?” Dean simply raised an eyebrow at the fact that the witch knew his full name, did Sam tell her that or had she’d been warned of the brothers by near by witches, “Your brother Sam was here yesterday before close and mentioned that you liked pie. I ended up giving him an extra slice” So it was Sam.

“Yeah, it was reqlly good pie” Dean said looking over the women shoulder, clearly seeing a large spoon mixing through the open kitchen door. “You two are hunters, aren’t you?” Once again the young women before him was the cause of dean being pulled from his thoughts.

“How’d you know?”

“I’m a witch, you’re not the first hunters to roll into town hoping to kill something” She spoke stiffly before sighing, sensing that now they were aware of each other’s true identities that the hunter standing before her was not going to leave anytime soon, “would you like to come in and get warm?” Dean nodded and followed her in.

Without much thought Dean sat on one of the mismatched chairs and the nameless women placed a slice of cherry pie before him. Silence settled over the pair as the twig she’d been wielding earlier reappeared, and she resumed her work that Dean had suppositively disrupted. He watched as trays of small cakes, pasties and loaves of bread floated out of the kitchen and into there respective places in the front display.

“You’ve got my name, but I don’t have yours yet” Dean asked playfully around a mouthful of pie”

“June, June Haywood” She responded sitting down with a steaming cup of tea.

“Mind me asking a few questions”

“No…Like I said earlier your not the first hunter to roll into town”

“Where you from? What brought to this town? And why didn’t any of the other hunters kill you” June simply sipped on her tea formulating her answers. “I was born in Scotland, I wanted to get away from home after graduating from school and I’m not like the other witches that you hunters deal with, I don’t pray to a demon or angel and most certainly don’t kill anyone. Your phone is ringing” June pointed out as the device vibrated in Dean’s pocket. Sammy was calling, probably wondering where the elder brother had wondered off to. Dean didn’t bother answering Sam’s call, instead he simply texted Sam his location and turned his attention back on June.

“What school did you graduate from?”

“Hogwarts, the only school in Scotland for witches and wizards. England is not like witches and wizards over here, the supernatural world back home is hidden from the muggle world, the British arm of the Men of Letters don’t really discriminate between good and evil. If you’re not a plain old human, if there’s anything supernatural or magical in you then you’re on their watch list” She spoke softly a hint of sadness filling her voice. Her recount of her childhood added a sprinkle of outrage to the pile that Dean harboured towards the British arm of the men of letters.

“Yeah me and Sammy have run into them before” He said, he turned slightly at the noise of his prised possession pulling up to the café. Once again a silence fell over the room as June flicked her wrist and the lock on the door clicked open. Sam joined the pair at their table, June asking she could fix the brothers some breakfast. Two fully ladened plates landed softy on the table in front of each brother, eggs, bacon and toast. While the brother’s devoured the food, June moved over to behind the counter, tucking her wand in the pocket of her aprin.

“A few of my regulars should be coming by soon, so I can still chat and answer your questions, but I don’t have a business to run” She spoke with a slight pep in her voice. The Winchester brothers simply nodded, mouths full of food, “Coffee?” another nod from both brother.

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #hogwarts oc

[octoberclidan]

Being Carried by Team Free Will

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader, Castiel x Reader

Summary: Three glimpses into being carried in the arms of each of the members of Team Free Will. Reader has she/her pronouns.

Note: this was written by myself for myself; there are probably mistakes. My first language is English but I'm not American, so it may sound weird in places if you happen to be American reading it. If you do happen to come across this and spend time reading it, I hope you enjoy it somewhat!

Masterlist

Story:

Dean

[Y/N] was in the passenger seat of the impala, resting her head against the window. She and Dean had just finished a simple salt and burn case several hours away from the bunker and were now on the drive back. They had left pretty early that morning, [Y/N] had only really had a couple hours of sleep the night before and had been awake for nearly 20 hours straight; she was tired. Dean looked over at her while he was making a right turn and noticed that her eyes were half closed. He reached over and turned the radio down and she looked at him.

"What's up?" She asked sleepily.

"Get some sleep, we have another two hours left before we get back". He reached behind him into the back bench with one arm and pulled up one of his fannels that was sitting there, handing it to [Y/N]. "Here, you can use this as a pillow". She smiled at him with a silent thank you and took the flannel, bunching it up between her head and the window. She closed her eyes and let the low rumble of the car lull her to sleep.

Dean couldn't help but steal glances at her throughout the drive, she looked so peaceful. He had felt lighter since she started joining Team Free Will on hunts. He had been trying to drop hints about her moving into the bunker, since she pretty much just lived in whatever motel was closest to the case she was working on. Sam and Cas both noticed how Dean was suddenly interested in having more movie nights and inviting [Y/N], or always inviting her to stay the night at the bunker after post-hunt drinks at the bar, or always suggesting they ask her to join them on cases.

[Y/N] couldn't pass up any opportunities to be close to Dean, she had been harbouring feelings for him ever since they met. He made her laugh, and made her feel included and wanted. His company was easy to enjoy, and she didn't want to assume anything, but she suspected that he may have feelings for her too. She often caught him looking at her when he thought she couldn't see, he was constantly complimenting her on her looks, what she was wearing, how she could get information from anyone, how good she was at taking down monsters; anything and everything he could think of to compliment her on.

[Y/N] was half asleep when she felt the car come to a stop and the engine turn off, they were back in the bunker's garage. Curiosity got the better of her and she decided to keep her eyes closed, just to see what Dean would do. Would he wake her? Leave her asleep in the car? She wanted to know, so she kept her breathing deep and slow, not letting on that she was awake. She heard Dean open his door and get out, closing it behind him. She had to admit she felt disappointed, maybe he would just leave her to wake up on her own. However, the disappointment only lasted a few seconds because her door was open, and Dean's hand was there to stop her falling out since she'd been leaning on the window.

"Alright, let's get you to bed". Dean pulled [Y/N] from the car, holding her around her shoulders and under her knees close to his chest. She let her head rest on his shoulder as he carried her down the stairs of the bunker.

"Hey! How'd it go?" [Y/N] heard Sam's voice, but Dean quickly shushed him, nodding down at her to show Sam that she was asleep. "Oh, sorry, we can catch up later" Sam now whispered, and Dean walked past him to the bedrooms. He made his way to the spare room that [Y/N] tended to sleep in whenever she was staying over, and he lay her down gently on the bed. He pushed her hair out of her face and covered her with a blanket.

"In the morning I'm gonna ask you to stay, I hope you say yes". He whispered to her and kissed her forehead, before turning off the light and going to find Sam, leaving [Y/N] smiling to herself as she settled in to the bed she could now say was hers.

Sam

It was late, and the boys were out on a nearby hunt. [Y/N] had been in the bunker's library all day answering phone calls and texts from both Sam and Dean, looking through lore books to help them with their case. She was lying on her side on the couch that had recently been added to the library, a book laid out beside her and her hand propping her head up as she had been flicking through the pages. It turned out to be a banshee, and a couple of hours ago Sam had texted her to say they had killed it and were on their way back. Not being familiar with banshees, [Y/N] had continued reading, wanting to be ready in case she ever had to face one.

As the time went on, [Y/N] had become more and more tired. She eventually let her eyes close for a few minutes, just letting them rest. She let her hand fall from her face and leaned her head on the arm of the couch instead. After a few minutes she was fast asleep, her breathing slowing and her body relaxing. She didn't hear the bunker's door open or close, or the boys' footsteps as they walked down the stairs and into the library. It was Dean who walked in first and saw [Y/N] fast asleep. He stood in the entranceway and looked at her fondly; she had become like a younger sister to him since she moved in. She made Sam happy, and he couldn't ask for more than that. He looked over his shoulder at Sam as he walked in. "Looks like your girlfriend fell asleep waiting for you". Dean chuckled and patted Sam on shoulder as he left them to it.

Sam made his way over to her and crouched down in front of her. He took the book from in front of her and moved it to the table behind him. A strand of her hair had fallen over her face as she slept, he tucked it behind her ear gently before softly stroking her cheek, making her eyelids flutter open. "Sammy?" She looked into his eyes.

"Hey". He smiled at her. "Thanks for all of your help, Dean and I made it back without a scratch". She smiled back at him at this news. "Come on, let's go to bed". [Y/N] and Sam had known each other for a few years now, but had only become close in the last year when she had moved into the bunker. Their relationship had developed slowly, both of them pretty shy about their attraction to the other. Sam had referred to [Y/N] as his girlfriend for the first time only the previous week, sort of by accident during a conversation with Dean, but it had felt right. They both still had their own rooms in the bunker, but most nights one of them would seek out the other. [Y/N] moved to sit up while rubbing her eyes, clearly very tired. "Hey, let me carry you?" Sam placed his hands over her shoulders. "Don't want you falling on the way". Too tired to protest, [Y/N] simply nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck while he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and the other under her legs. He lifted her from the couch and began walking towards the rooms.

She smiled as she noticed that they passed her bedroom and Sam continued on to his. He sat her down on the bed and began to remove his clothes while she did the same, though slowly and lazily due to how sleepy she was. Once they were both down to their underwear, they slipped under the covers of Sam's bed, and he pulled her close so she could lay her head on his chest. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head and began to rub his hand up and down her back. [Y/N] soon fell back to sleep, this time in the comfort of Sam's arms.

Castiel

[Y/N] was on the ground, and her head had a dull ache. She looked around but her vision was blurry. She was in the middle of a vampire hunt with Cas, the two of them had taken on the case by themselves since Sam and Dean were already busy on another hunt. It had been going well, just two vamps to take down, until one of them managed to whack [Y/N] on the back of her head, knocking her to the ground. Her knees stung as she tried to stand, desperately looking around to try and focus on something, but her eyes weren't cooperating. She was starting to panic, breathing quickly and not knowing who or what was around her.

Suddenly, she felt a warmth travel from her forehead down through her body, her knees stopped stinging, the ache in her head dampened, and her eyes were finally able to focus on the angel in front of her. Castiel kneeled down and moved his hand from her forehead to cup her cheek, his eyes staring intently at hers before roaming her face and her body, looking for any further signs of injury. "Are you okay?" He asked her, concern plastered on his face.

"The vampires, where are they?"

"Dead, we got them, don't worry about that. How do you feel? How is your head?"

"It hurts a little bit but not as bad as before you healed me, thank you Cas". [Y/N] smiled at him and covered his hand on her face with her hand. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead before grabbing her hands and pulling both of them up. Once she was standing, she started to sway and fell forward into Cas' arms. He held her steady and looked down at her, the concern on his face intensifying.

"You're dizzy?"

"Yeah I guess I am, just a little, sorry".

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I'll carry you".

"You don't have to carry me Cas".

"Will you let me anyway? I like it when you're closest to me". [Y/N] blushed at this. She had feelings for the angel, which is why she didn't hesitate to suggest that the two of them take on this case before waiting for Sam and Dean to finish with theirs; she liked being alone with Cas. [Y/N] lived at the bunker with the boys, hunting with them and Cas. Every time the angel would make an appearance in the bunker she found herself hoping that he would stick around for a few days. She had taught him how to cook, and how to dance, she studied with him in the library and went on supply runs with him whenever the opportunity came up. She often wondered if he liked being around her as much as she liked being around him, and he had just confirmed that he did. She smiled up at him and nodded, letting him hook his arms under her legs and around her shoulders while she wrapped her arms around his neck. He carried her a short walk to the car he had driven them in and sat her down in the passenger seat.

The drive back to the bunker was pretty quiet, [Y/N] kept stealing glances at Cas, admiring his facial features and the sparkle of the street lamps in his eyes. He also stole glances at her when she was looking away, wondering if her blush was because she had feelings for him.

Cas insisted on carrying [Y/N] from the car down the steps of the bunker and all the way to her bedroom, only letting her down onto the bed. He touched her forehead again, looking for any signs of harm. "I'm fine Cas, just a bit tired".

"Okay, you should sleep. If you need me you can call for me". He turned to leave the room but [Y/N] called for him, stopping him from stepping through the door.

"Um, Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind, like only if you don't have something else to do, staying with me for a bit? I'm sorry, it's just sometimes after hunts if I get hurt I find it hard to fall asleep when I'm on my own. If it's not too much could you just stay with me until I fall asleep?"

"Of course I will stay with you. Would you like me to sit at your desk or lay down with you?"

"Oh, do you... do you want to lay down with me?"

Cas tilted his head to the side, not answering straight away but thinking about his answer. "Yes, I would like to lay with you". He noticed that this caused her to blush again, and he also noticed that he enjoyed making her blush. They both got under the covers and Cas turned to look at her. "[Y/N], would you like me to hold you? I liked carrying you, I would like very much to hold you in my arms until you fall asleep". She nodded, trying to hide the deepening of her blush while she moved over to lay her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "Sweet dreams [Y/N]".

The end.

#dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #supernatural #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x y/n #sam winchester #comfort #sam winchester comfort #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x y/n #castiel fluff #castiel x reader #castiel fanfiction #castiel #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #supernatural fic

[tvintedspvrkmoved]

ᴇʟᴇɴᴀ ɢɪʟʙᴇʀᴛ . elena gilbert was born june 22nd to miranda and grayson gilbert. born and raised in mystic falls , virginia , elena had a fairly average childhood until high school - when she was introduced to the world of the supernatural by way of her boyfriend , stefan salvatore.

elena's bio is canon ONLY UNTIL jeremy's death in season four.

ᴊᴇʀᴇᴍʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ . when jeremy died , elena all but lost her mind. she had a complete breakdown , during which she came close - at damon's request - to turning off her humanity. just before she flipped the switch , however , the vampire realized that doing so would only cause problems for her remaining loved ones. instead she ran , flashing to her car and taking off into the night. she drove until her tank was near empty , pulling into a nearby motel and checking in for the night.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀꜱ . the next morning , elena walked across the street to a local diner to get some food and find out where the nearest gas station was. all seemed normal , until her heightened hearing picked up on something coming from outside the diner - the word ❛ vampire ❜ , muttered by one of two men coming from the direction of the motel. tuning in closer , she found out - in a fair amount of detail - where they were going that night and what they were doing : taking down a nearby nest of vampires. she also learned that one of the men was named dean , one sam. elena ended up ducking out early to fuel up her car , parking back in the lot of the motel and sitting in her room listening out until the men returned.

ᴇʟᴇɴᴀ'ꜱ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʜᴜɴᴛ . that night , when sam and dean left , elena was not far behind. seething with rage over her brother's death , she decided that killing a few violent vampires was better than letting her anger go unchecked. she followed at a reasonable distance until they'd reached their destination , killing her headlights and pulling in behind once they'd left their car. she followed on foot , staying out of sight until two things became apparent : the men were not alone , and the vampires were not evil. she can remember to this day the scream she let out upon watching john winchester fire a bullet between the eyes of a vampire who made no attempt to harm him. a vampire who was almost . . . begging. her reaction gave her away immediately , and it was only after an intense argument between sam and john that she was not only spared , but approached somewhat amicably.

ɴᴏᴡ . since not long after that first hunt , elena has been training and hunting with the winchesters. she resides wherever they do ( with the exception of when dean was in hell , when she traveled and hunted on her own for several weeks once she and sam had exhausted all efforts to save him ). in her ❝ canon ❞ she is dating sam winchester ( highly affiliated with @stanfordprepped ) , but as with 99% of my muses she is multi-verse and multi-ship. elena is primarily based in the kripke era , but i am open to writing her in different seasons. for personal reasons i will not be writing her within the tvdu.

ʜᴇɪɢʜᴛ . 5 ' 1 ᴡᴇɪɢʜᴛ . 120

#[ 𝐛𝐢𝐨 . ] #[ 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚 . ] #[ 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐰 . // 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘴 ] #[ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐩 . // 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 ] #[ 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐭 ; 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 . // 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘴 ]