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wandering-winchesters · 1 year

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Hunt Gone Wrong

Dean Winchester x injured Reader

Summary: The reader is injured while on a hunt, but doesn't want the boys to know. Considering it should have been a super easy hunt.

Word Count: 2,009

Not Proof Read

Trigger Warning: Blood, Injury, Needles, Swearing. 18+

AN: Requests are open! Please send them to me. If you’d like to be added to my tag list, please let me know!

Masterlist

I’m not a colorful person, the majority of my wardrobe is made up of black, gray and dark greens. Today, more than ever I’m thankful for my drab wardrobe. Blood doesn’t show in black. I know the gash on my side is bad, but how bad I’m not sure. When I had pulled my hand out from under my shirt it was covered in blood. My blood. I wince, shifting slightly in the passenger seat of the impala. Biting my lip to keep my breathing as steady as possible. Focusing on the trees flying past as Dean drives, his foot weighing heavily on the accelerator.

The hunt had gone exceptionally well, minus the small mishap that had left me in my current situation. Dean and Sam had begrudgingly let me come with them to take out a demon, an easy job. There was only one that we were after on this occasion, or so we thought. We had unintentionally split up upon entry to the house, Sam and Dean had headed upstairs searching for the demon. But something caught my attention and I had veered away from them. I realize now, that it was all apart of the demons plan to draw me away from the protection of the boys. A fact that I wanted to keep from Sam and Dean. Hence, why I was doing my best to keep my injury hidden from them. Praying my shirt and flannel would absorb all of the blood and I wouldn’t stain the seats in the impala.

I zone in and out, listening to the boys argue about what they could have done differently, what went right and who screwed up what. I am counting down the minutes until we are back at the hotel, my jaw clenched, every muscle in my body aching from how tense I have been on the short, fifteen minute drive back.

“Y/N?” Dean says, reaching over to squeeze my knee. I jump, pulling away absentmindedly, “You okay there? You have been awfully quiet.” His brows pull together, worry forming across his face at my actions. “Yeah, I am good. Just tired, ready to get to the motel. All good De.” I try my best to smile, probably more of a grimace. I know I haven’t convinced him, his lingering glance that I catch out of the corner of my eye tells me that much. He knows me all too well, a fact that I do not normally mind. However, today, I just want to fade into the background. I wish that he was not as familiar with my mannerisms as he is.

The gravel crunches under the tires of the car as Dean parks in front of the motel. After a few seconds of arguing, Sam heads inside to get us a room.

“I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I am starvin’! Demon killing always works up my appetite. What do ya’ want for dinner?” Dean asks, turning the car off and grabbing his jacket from the seat next to him, preparing to get out of the Impala. “Hmm?” I hadn’t been paying attention to his words, my hand pressed tightly against the wound on my side, trying to gauge just how bad it is. “Oh, I don’t know Dean, I am not that hungry.” I give him a half smile, looking him in the eyes for the first time since we left the run down and demon infested house.

His face falls quickly, looking me over, searching for any sign of injury.

“Jesus, you’re as pale as a ghost, Y/N! Are you hurt?” He throws open the drivers door and moves to climb out, surely to come over to the passenger side and look me over for himself.

“No, Dean, I am fine, I promise! Just tired, today took it out of me. I will be fine after a shower and a good nights sleep.” Dean gets distracted by Sam making his way back over to us.

“So, good and bad news. Good news is I got us a room. Bad news, they only had one room open, but there are two beds at least!” Sam says, tossing the room key onto the hood of the impala, while he walks to the trunk and pulls out his bag.

I throw open the passenger door and snatch the key off the hood of the car before Dean can. "I call first shower!" I sling the strap of my bag over my shoulder and walk as quickly as I can, to the door of the room.

The next few minutes are a blur, I manage to grab a change of clothes and the first aid kit out my bag and slip into the bathroom. Avoiding the any further contact with Sam or Dean. I curse under my breath, turning the lights on in the small, dingy space. Realizing now, just how light headed I am. I anchor myself against the sink, using my other arm to slide my flannel off my shoulders and let fall to the floor. I take a deep breath and pull my shirt off, steeling myself for what I am about to see. The sight of blood is one thing that has not gotten any easier, mine or someone else's.

The cut is deep, deeper than I thought it would be. I wince, as I pull the fabric of my shirt away from my skin, the dried blood making it an even harder task.

"Fuck." I am going to need stitches. I angle my body to the mirror, trying to get a better look. The angry, red gash stretches from the top of my hip, up to the front of my ribcage. Fresh blood begins to pool and drip from the wound, irritated from the removal of my shirt. How am I going to do this? I can do stitches, sure, but I have only ever done them for the boys. The angle that I will have to work at seems impossible at the moment.

I lean over and turn on the shower, figuring I should clean out the wound before stitching it up, plus the sound of the shower would help to cover up the gasps and whimpers I cannot seem to contain now that I am alone. I grab a seemingly clean towel, from the rack in the bathroom and press it against my side. Trying to slow the bleeding while I collect my thoughts. I am interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Y/N, I am just gonna wash my face while you shower-" Dean opens the door and sticks his head in the room. Stopping in his tracks as he sees me, a mumbled apology starts to roll off his tongue, before he freezes. His eyes trained on the towel that I have pressed to my side. I glance down and notice the red tinge that covers the part of the towel that I had already used.

"Damn it, Y/N. What happened?" He asks, slipping the rest of the way into the room and shutting the door behind him. He crosses the small space to me in a second, taking the towel from my hand and pulling it away so he can survey just how bad it is. His brow creases, as he looks closer. I can see worry etched into every inch of his face. "I'm fine De, Just a scratch." I mumble, looking away from him, not wanting to see the expression on his face any longer.

"You are as far away from fine, as that can be." He states, grabbing the first aid kit off the counter and hurriedly searching for the suture kit that we keep in all of our bags. I feel the tears that I have been holding back, begin to fall. I curse under my breath, and glance up at the ceiling, trying to hold back those tears I so desperately do not want to fall.

"I can do it myself, Dean, I don't need your help." I state, trying to take the sutures from his hand. He stops me easily, a hand wrapping around my wrist. He releases my wrist after a few long, painful seconds and looks at me.

"Stop it, I wasn't asking if you wanted or needed my help. I am doing this. Now, are we doing this the easy way, or the hard way? Because if you want to be difficult, I can go get Sammy to help. And you know he is way more dramatic than I am about these things." He states, holding the suture kit up above his head, to keep me from trying to grab it from him.

"Okay." I mumble, my voice barely more than a whisper. Dean nods, gently guiding me over to the counter, encouraging me to hop up on to the elevated surface so he can have easier access to the wound on my side.

Time passes slowly as Dean cleans the lovely gash caused by my moment of stupidity on the hunt. The tension in the small bathroom building by every passing moment. I can feel the anger and frustration radiating off of Dean in waves.

"Shit, that hurts De." I hiss as the suture pierces my skin for the first stitch of many. I hear a low apology make its way from him, his brows knit together in concentration.

"Why didn't you just tell me? Or Sam? For God's sake Y/N, this isn't just a scrape. It's deep. Judging by how pale and clammy you are, you've lost a lot of blood. If you had just told me when it happened, we could've done something about it ages ago!" He curses, grabbing a clean square of gauze to wipe away some of the fresh blood.

"I didn't want to disappoint you, it was supposed to be an easy hunt. It's my own damn fault that it happened. Plus, I didn't think it was this bad. Figured I could clean it up on my own and you'd never had been the wiser. If I had just remembered to lock the goddamn door." I shrug my shoulders, immediately regretting the motion as waves of pain ripple through my body. Nerves igniting that I didn't even know existed.

"You could never disappoint me, I am just sorry that this happened in the first place. We shouldn't have split up, you aren't stupid Y/N."

He finishes the sutures over a period of time that feels like hours, but in reality was only minutes. His touch gentle and cautious, but firm and reassuring at the same time. A combination that I didn't think possible, especially coming from the older of the two Winchesters. "Finished," He sighs, helping me down from the counter. "Do you want help showering? You need to be careful not to rip your stitches."

It takes me a moment to process what he said, his offer to help me shower a first coming from him. Our friendship had never gone past meaningless flirtation, this level of intimacy something that I wasn't prepared for coming from him.

"Uhm, no, I think I will be okay, thank you though." I say, glancing up at him with a small smile. "Are you still angry with me?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

"Y/N, I was never angry." He hesitates, as if debating on if to finish what he was going to say. "I was scared. I wasn't there to protect you and you got injured. The thought of something happening to you, I just-" He pauses again, his fingers coming up to brush a strand of hair out of my face and behind my ear. The calluses on his fingers, dragging against my skin. "I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you, that's all." He presses a quick kiss to my forehead, then turns on his heel to head out of the bathroom.

"De, wait." I say, reaching out and grabbing his hand before he opens the door. "Could you stay, and help me wash my hair?"

#deanwinchesterblurb #deanwinchesterxreader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #deanwinchesterfluff #dean x reader #spnfamily #spn #supernatural #dean winchester angst #wanderingwinchesters #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x injured reader

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girls-alias · 4 months

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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

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hunterscabin · 1 year

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First Date

Summary: The reader reveals to Dean that she is nervous about a night out with a Lebanon local after being assaulted by the last man she dated. Dean offers to accompany her undercover, and the feelings they’ve been hiding from each other are revealed.

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Brief mention of previous sexual assault; mild pining; fluff.

Word Count: 1.4k

Dean reached your room just in time to watch a tweed skirt cross his eyeline in midair. He followed its path and found you buried in your closet. Dean leaned against the doorframe and smiled. You tossed another piece of clothing, and it fell to the floor among, what appeared to be, your entire wardrobe. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene.

“She’s adorable when she’s flustered,” he thought.

At the sound of Dean’s laughter, you leaned out of the closet.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie, but you’re clearly busy,” he joked.

You let out a sigh that landed somewhere between frustration and exhaustion.

“I have a date.”

“A date?” Dean questioned, sounding more surprised than intended.

“Yes, Dean. A date. I’m not that undesirable.” you teased, stepping toward your mirror. You held a dress against your frame, cocking your head to the side.

“Of course you’re desirable, Y/N.” Dean awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Hunters just don’t usually date. One night stands? Sure. But an actual dress up, get dinner, talk about your life date? Not so much.”

“He’s not a hunter.” you corrected. “It’s Matthew.”

“Ah, yes. Matthew.” A huge grin spread across Dean’s face.

Matthew managed the local general store, and he’d been infatuated with you since the moment you arrived in Lebanon. Sam and Dean loved going on supply runs with you, if only to watch Matthew fawn and fumble in your presence. It was fodder for many of their jokes and a constant source of teasing.

“He finally wore you down, huh?”

Dean crossed the room and settled on the edge of your bed. He picked up a rejected blouse lying next to him, and it took all of his willpower not to lift the shirt to his face so that he could catch his favorite scent in the world: you. Much like Matthew, Dean only had eyes for the woman before him. You met the Winchesters during a witch hunt in Louisiana. Impressed with your skills and knowledge, the boys knew you’d be a valuable asset, and they invited you to call the bunker home. After some reluctance, you surrendered your independent nature and joined the brothers in Lebanon. Dean had been attracted to you from the start, but his fondness only grew, once you moved in. He loved your confidence and loyalty and the way you looked holding a gun. Dean knew he had feelings for you, but he hadn’t realized just how far he’d fallen until tonight. In no other circumstance would he be this jealous of an underdog like Matthew.

“Where’s he taking you?” Dean asked, trying to sound apathetic.

“The Italian place in town.”

“He’s really pulling out all the stops!”

“Don’t make fun.” you chastised, holding up another dress. “You know I only said yes to appease him.”

“You seem pretty nervous for someone going on a pity date.” Dean noted.

“Excuse me?” you eyed him.

“Your hands are shaking.”

You looked down and noticed that Dean was right. Pre-date jitters were the norm for you, but after a particularly grabby suitor, you were a little more than skittish around new men. It’s why you agreed to go out with Matthew in the first place; you knew he was harmless. Still, your body betrayed your confidence.

“Yeah, well, the last time I went on a date, the guy turned out to be…” you paused, carefully choosing the right phrasing, knowing how Dean might react.

“A monster?” Dean interrupted. “We’ve all been there. Just ask Jody.”

“If only you knew.” you thought.

“No he…”

Silence filled the room as you struggled to find words. Dean looked up to see you fidgeting with the collar of the dress in your hands and immediately became aware of what you were trying to say. You could practically hear his fists and jaw clenching.

“He tried to force himself on me.” you confirmed.

Unable to look at Dean, you busied yourself with putting the dress back on its hanger.

To your surprise, Dean’s body relaxed. He stood up, closing the space between you, and pulled you into a comforting hug. He placed one hand on your lower back and the other gently held your head to his chest. After a moment, he leaned down, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

You smiled as you slowly pulled away. You didn’t want to dwell on bad memories, so you put on a brave face.

“You know I kicked his ass.”

Dean smirked, holding you at arm’s length. “That’s my girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “My girl.” Ever since joining the boys, you were head over heels for Dean. He enchanted you with his strength and resourcefulness. You loved the way he selflessly looked after you and Sam, and you couldn’t help but swoon every time he licked those perfect lips. So many times you wanted to exclaim your feelings, but you always decided against it, never knowing if he felt the same. You turned toward your closet, hiding your now rosy cheeks from Dean.

“I’m just being silly.” you shook your head. “Not all men are monsters.”

“You’re not being silly, Y/N/N. What you went through…” Dean trailed off, not wanting to upset you.

“You know what?” he asked, changing the subject. “I’ve got a taste for a plate of spaghetti and a full bodied Cabernet.”

Dean’s comment caused you to whip around.

“What?” you questioned.

“Why don’t I go in as back up?” he offered.

“Dean.” you reasoned. “We both know he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I’ll keep quiet at a corner table,” he promised. “And if anything happens, you just say the word, and I’ll destroy the guy.”

You looked to the older Winchester, who had clearly made up his mind, and conceded.

“It might be nice to have a familiar face nearby.”

Dean leaned down and kissed your cheek, clearly excited about his scheme. Maybe he did care for you after all.

“Give me three minutes to get dressed!”

He was almost to the hallway when you called his name.

“Dean?” He turned, placing a hand on the doorknob. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” Dean winked before closing the door behind him.

The date went as well as one could expect. There were many questions about family and work, and you skillfully avoided them all. Every so often you’d lock eyes with Dean, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying his voyeuristic adventure, of which your date was blissfully unaware. Matthew was cute, attentive, and chivalrous; if you were any other woman, he’d be a catch. But when all was said and done, there was absolutely no chemistry. Standing outside of the restaurant at the end of the date, you were thankful that the cold winter temperature didn’t allow for loitering. You said a quick goodbye to Matthew, thanking him for dinner with a kiss on the cheek, and sent him on his way. As you watched him drive off, Dean joined you on the sidewalk.

“How was it?” he asked.

“I don’t think we’re a match.” you said plainly.

“I’ll say.” Dean scoffed. “He drives a Prius.”

You laughed, playfully whacking him with your purse.

Dean unlocked and opened the passenger door for you before getting in himself. He turned on the car and cranked the heat. You were surprised when, instead of putting Baby in gear, he shifted toward you.

“You okay?” Dean questioned. “He didn’t try anything, did he?”

“No.” you confirmed, your heart fluttering at Dean’s protectiveness. “He was a perfect gentleman. We just didn’t have that spark.”

Dean nodded before reaching over to place his hand on top of yours.

“Thank you for telling me, Y/N/N.” Dean’s voice was quiet.

“Thank you for listening. And for coming with me.”

There was a comfortable stillness in the car. You felt safe with Dean.

“Why did you come?” you questioned timidly.

“I don’t like when my girl is scared.”

There it was again. “My girl.”

Dean leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple. His lips lingered longer than usual. When he pulled away, you saw in his eyes what you felt in your heart.

“You deserve so much, Y/N.” His face lingered close to yours.

Dean didn’t want to take advantage, so he held his stance, putting you in control. You leaned forward, pausing to make sure that this was what he wanted, before ghosting your lips over his. At your invitation, he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. The feeling of his body against yours was pure ecstasy. After a few minutes, you pulled a way to catch your breath. You smiled as Dean rested his forehead against yours.

“That was…” you breathed, at a loss for words.

“That was a great first date.”

Masterlist

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #spn fanfic #spn fluff #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff

400 notes · View notes

princessmisery666 · 10 months

Note

Please don't leave. Jensen Ackles and reader

Please Don't Leave

Summary: Friends to lovers to friends, that can work, right?

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, fluff, Jensen in his thicc Soldier Boy era (that’s a warning in itself!)

W/C: 4.3k

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki. Small Parts/Mentioned: Karl Urban, Jack Quaid, Gen Padalecki.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Notes: For the purpose of this fic, Jensen is not and never has been married.

A/N: This drabble got way out of hand.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // any mistakes belong to me.

Graphics: Title card Jensen photo credit - https://twitter.com/_AlanaKing_ Soldier Boy image from Variety. Fly video belongs to me.

Master Lists: Dean Winchester // Main // Made Up Fic Titles

“Help me understand,” you implore.

The first domino to set off the chain reaction was in the form of a famous and beautiful actress, Mae Nova, sliding into Jensen’s DM’s—a very detailed offer with an accompanying photo that you saw by no fault of your own. How is irrelevant. Why is the issue. Why didn’t he delete it or immediately set her straight?

“You’re the one that wanted this, Jay,” you say when he remains silent. “You're the one who pursued me, convinced me we should try and turn the ten years of friendship into something more.”

“I know.” He sighs, pushing a hand through his longer hair. “And I don’t regret a second of the last six months we’ve been together…” he doesn’t say it; however, the ‘but’ demands attention like a flickering light.

“But you're having second thoughts?”

“No!” he denies vehemently, finally looking you in the eye. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Well, one of us has to!”

He shakes his head, exhaling loudly. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, sounding like a broken record. His heart rate is running high, and his chest heaves with every breath, but his vocabulary appears to be running low.

You tsk, fighting back a scathing comment about needing a script writer to make him talk. But it wouldn’t be fair. He’s not a man who runs from his emotions. He’s just trying to make sense of it all like you are. You have to remind yourself he’s not Dean Winchester. He doesn’t look much like him anymore either; longer hair, beard growing almost wildly, no plaid in sight in the Soldier Boy wardrobe at the back of the fancy trailer.

Is that where the lines blurred? Working together for so long on Supernatural, have you both confused the other for your characters and their feelings toward the other?

“You can stop saying your sorry. I forgive you,” you say, and he turns a watery gaze your way. It almost breaks your resolve, but you realize it’s down to you to be the strong one. “I just need to understand why? Why didn’t you reply and tell her you're in a relationship? You’ve done it a hundred times before.”

“I don’t know.”

To make matters worse, Mae had landed a role on The Boys and would be working alongside Jensen.

“Jensen, you spent fifteen years of your life devoted to Supernatural, ten of those with me around. I think you were scared of the end, afraid of losing such a big part of yourself.”

“I was,” he agrees, in a whisper as if you speaking the words is the reason for his realization of it being the truth.

“Maybe us being together was a knee-jerk reaction?” you suggest, “a way to cling onto the past.” You take a deep breath, and your chest tightens as if begging yourself not to say the next part. “Maybe you need a clean break, see what the world looks like without Supernatural… without me.”

“What? No.” He looks offended but can’t hold eye contact and doesn’t offer anything further.

You can’t keep going around in circles, so you make a decision, sitting down at the small table and firing up your laptop.

“What’re you doing?” he asks, rushing to look over your shoulder, perhaps worried you’ll take it upon yourself to reply to the woman. “Searching for flights back home?” Jensen says, panic clear in his tone. Harshly he slams the laptop shut, and you look up at him. “You can’t leave.”

“Give me a reason to stay.”

“Me, us!” he yells, “we can work this out.”

You stand up and gently press your lips to his. Jensen’s hand automatically goes to the small of your back, guiding you around the chair to better press himself against you.

The kiss is natural and unhurried, but there’s too much tension in his body, and you know it’s because he feels it, too. This is your last kiss.

A little breathless, you pull back. “I don’t wanna fight, Jensen.”

“Me neither.”

“So let me be the bad guy,” you say, heart aching but trying to hold it together. “Let me walk away before the wound is too big to save our friendship.”

He grimaces as if tasting something bitter but nods once, “I’m sorry.”

It’s been a long day. All Jensen wanted to do was take a shower and crash, but Karl convinced him to go for dinner with the cast and crew.

The conversation is light, everyone enjoying their food and making small talk. It’s nice enough, but it’s incomplete because you're not there.

He wishes it was you beside him instead of Mae. The seating arrangements have no rhyme or reason. It just happened that way. But still, he almost resents that she’s the one next to him. So much has happened in the weeks since he last saw you. He wants to share it all with you, and wants to know how you are - if you’re struggling with his absence as much as he is with yours.

“Okay there, Ackles?” Jack asks, “You're a world away.”

“Yeah,” he lies, sitting up straighter and smiling. “Just thinking…”

Karl must know the look of a man missing his significant other because he asks, “About your girl?”

“Yeah,” Jensen admits, sighing heavily. He hasn't told anyone you broke up, and there’s been no speculation in the tabloids.

“Tell us about her. You never did tell us about your first date,” Jack says, “we all know you met on Supernatural, but not the story of your first date.”

Jack’s an awesome guy, sweet and kind, he doesn’t know the reminder is like a kick in the teeth, but Jensen obliges.

Jensen hurried across the lot, a coffee in each hand, the brown paper bag containing two cinnamon rolls dangling from his mouth. He was late, and Jared would give him shit for it, but it would be worth whatever Jared threw at him if it improved your morning.

Your latest Instagram post was a photo of a fly swimming in your coffee with the caption: “It was my last coffee pod. This just topped off a crappy weekend😭. #HappyMonday”. You were one hundred percent a coffee snob. You made it in a particular way using a fancy - and stupidly expensive - machine. You wouldn’t settle for the coffee on set. You’d rather go without. However, Jensen knew when you didn’t get her morning beverage, you’d be grumpy all day, and he hated to see you without a smile.

He headed for the makeup trailer, knowing that’s where you’d be. He kicked the bottom of the door gently as a way of knocking, then waited.

He didn’t expect Jared to be the one to open it. He wasn’t due in makeup for another half-hour, but his lanky frame filled the space of the open door. “Look who decided to show up,” Jared jeered playfully.

“Shut up,” Jensen mumbled around the bag, walking past him.

You were already there, looking through clothes on the rack, but stopped to smile at him. “Morning, Jay.”

“Here,” he said, handing over the coffee that was for you. “Hi, hey, morning.”

Confusion wrinkled your brow, but you took it. “Um, thanks.”

“I saw your Instagram, and I know how cranky you get without your coffee, and you said you had a shit weekend, so I wanted to try and make it better,” Jensen vomited words without thinking. “I don’t like seeing you upset, and you’ve been down a lot lately, and I just thought maybe this would help, some, a little, maybe.” Breathlessly he shrugged and prayed the floor would open up and swallow him.

Your smile beamed, and you lifted the cup to your nose, inhaling the aroma, and hummed contentedly, “Mmm. You even got my order right,” you said and stepped closer to him to place a kiss on his cheek.

“That’s cause you're always posting about it on social media,” quipped Jared.

You tutted, rolling your eyes at your co-star but kept your eyes locked on Jensen. Dropping back down from your tiptoes, you said, “Thank you for this. It means a lot that you thought of me.”

“It’s nothing,” he lied. It was everything, and as your kiss dried on his cheek, it reminded him of your evening plans. “I know you’ve got a long day ahead, especially with your date later.”

As part of a charity event, you had agreed that they auction off a date with you. The auction had been silent, so you had no idea who had hired you for the night. Though the studio had assured you they had vetted the winner, you’d asked that he and Jared be in the bar next door in case of emergency.

“Oh god,” you groaned, “don’t remind me. I wish I never agreed to that stupid silent auction.”

“Ah, don’t be such a downer,” Jared said, winking. “You never know. He might be the man of your dreams.”

Oh god, I hope not. Jensen thought. He’d already had to watch you be in a relationship with Chad, a man who neither deserved you nor treated you well. He couldn’t bear to watch you be with someone else again. He wanted to be next in line, and he would treat you as you should be, like a Queen. He just needed to work up the courage to tell you.

“I doubt it,” you sighed, and Jensen swore your eyes flicked to him and away again. “Besides, who said it’s a man who hired me?”

“C’mon, you two,” Zara, the makeup artist, said, waving them toward the door, “out! I’ve got to get this one ready.”

Amongst a chorus of goodbyes, Jared and Jensen left. “What is it with you when you’re around her?” Jared asked as soon as the trailer door was closed. “You’re a bumbling idiot, and she’s starting to notice.”

“What?”

“Yeah, she asked me what’s wrong with you. Thinks she’s done something wrong ‘cause you either avoid her or barely speak to her.”

“I know, man,” Jensen groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Ever since you put it out there that we could be more than friends, I can't stop thinking about it. I don’t want to blurt it out at the wrong time, so I try to be careful about what I say, but I just end up tripping over myself.”

Jared clapped him on the back, “You just need to fake some of that Dean Winchester confidence.”

“Maybe.”

“You better find a way to be around her ‘cause you’ve got a date with her tonight.”

“What?”

“The silent auction,” Jared explained, “I paid for the date with her for you.”

“Jared, what? No!”

“I think Gen will have an issue if I show up for a date with her, and are you really going to leave her sitting on her own?”

“No, but Jared, I can’t,” Jensen panicked, “I’m going to make a fool of myself.”

“You’re an actor. Just act normal.” Jared suggested before walking off.

Seeing you through the restaurant window, Jensen wanted to hug Jared so tight to thank him he’d crack a rib. But he also wanted to punch him so damn hard in the arm it’d be limp for a week. Why had he agreed to this? Okay, he hadn’t agreed. He’d totally freaked out, drank two beers, took three shots of whiskey, and then forced himself into the waiting car.

He was going to mess this up. He knew it. He was a fumbling, mumbling idiot around you, and dread settled firmly in his gut as he watched you scanning the menu. He regretted the whiskey and allowing Jared to talk him into this.

He swore he was having an out-of-body experience as his feet took him closer to you. You glanced up when he got to the side of the table, and your face glowed with a smile. “Come to check in on me?” you asked, rising and pulling him into a hug.

He held you a little tighter than he usually would, savoring the moment before releasing you and taking a seat. “Not exactly checking up on you,” he said, “this wasn’t my idea, but Jared brought you for me.”

“What?”

“The silent auction, Jared was the highest bidder.”

Confusion took over your features. “Why would he do that? I mean not that I’m not grateful, I’d much rather be here with you, but I don’t understand.”

He realized it was now or never. “‘Cause he knows how I feel about you,” he admits, holding his breath for a reaction.

“Care to elaborate?” you ask after a long silence.

“The truth is, I like you... a lot.”

“I like you too.”

“No,” he shook his head, “you don’t get it. I cherish our friendship and don’t want to lose it, but it's more than that. My feelings for you go beyond friendship, and I want to see if we could be more.”

“I was so nervous,” Jensen chuckles. “I felt like I was auditioning for the rest of my life.” he contemplates it for a moment, “maybe I was.”

“Well then, it’s good she reciprocated,” Karl laughs.

“It took her a minute,” Jensen remembers, “but yeah, she came around.”

Your phone rings as you slot the key into your door’s lock. You’re juggling coffee, a pile of scripts to read, dry cleaning, and a bag of groceries. You have no hope of answering without dropping everything, so leave it to ring. You assume it’s Jared checking in on you after seeing the photos on TMZ. Jensen and Mae were pictured at a restaurant in Ontario.

The phone stops as you enter the kitchen and set everything down on the countertop.

Gen had already checked in to make sure you were okay, and you’d been anticipating a call from Jared to yet again invite you out to the set of Walker to meet one of the crew he was insistent you’d “hit it off with.” You’d politely declined, having already been on a date that had been pleasant and ended with a goodnight kiss, but you’d told the Padalecki’s it had left you feeling guilty as if you were cheating on Jensen. You needed time to let that feeling pass and allow the wound to heal completely.

You set about emptying the bags of groceries, and your phone rings again. You shuffle the contents of your bag, looking for the device, sure that it will cut off to voicemail before you find it.

“Hello,” you answer, pressing it to your ear.

“Hey.”

Jensen’s voice freezes you to the floor, and you hold your breath. It’s been more than a month since you left him in his trailer, and you’ve only exchanged a few text messages. Why is he calling now? Does he want to be the one to confirm that he and Mae are together?

He says your name when your silence stretches.

“Um, yeah. Hey, hi,” you say, clearing your throat to rid yourself of the shock.

“You sound out of breath,” he notes, “is this a bad time?”

“No, no, I just wasn’t expecting it to be you,” you explain, “caught me off guard.”

“Who were you expecting?” he asks, sounding accusatory.

“Jared,” you sneer, unable to stop the ire you feel.

“Sorry,” he says, and the apology tightens your jaw with the frustration it evokes. “I should have called sooner.”

“I haven’t called you either.”

No one is to blame for the lack of communication. You both needed some space, so you were both right not to call.

Neither of you speaks for a moment, and you debate whether to tell him you're busy so you can end the call and be done with the awkwardness. But he obviously put his awkwardness aside to call, so you might as well rip the stitches out and reopen the wound if that's what this is about.

“Why are you calling now?”

“I need you to know that me and Mae aren’t together,” he says, firm and direct.

You try to interrupt, “Jensen, it’s fine.” but he determinedly continues.

“The picture they posted was cropped,” he explains. “The whole cast and some of the crew were there. The photo made it look like it was just the two of us, and that’s not the truth.”

“Even if it was, it’s okay.” It’s not okay, and from the moment you saw it, you’ve felt nauseous. Still, you assure him, “You’re free to do what you want. You don’t owe me an explanation.”

He sighs, and you can hear the scowl in his tone, “It’s important to me that you know.”

You think it’s sweet that he’s taking the time to explain himself, even if it’s not what you expected. But Mae was never the problem. The situation she presented only shone a light into the crack that you had both been ignoring. Yet the information that Jensen has shared is a welcomed relief in the wake of the storm, but it’s just the eye. More questions are coming, questions that will likely only cause more hurt and confusion.

“Why?” you ask, “why do you want me to know?”

“Because I wanted it to be you next to me…” he pauses.

You're not sure if he wants you to say something or read between the lines, but you can’t let yourself trust the spark of hope that jabs your heart like a pinprick.

“Even if we’re just friends,” he adds.

That pinprick pierces the thin shell you’d managed to build, and it feels like a thousand jagged pieces of glass lacerate your heart, and you chew your top lip to stop the emotion from escaping in a sob.

There’s a loud bang on his end of the line, and someone calls out, “We’re ready on set, Mr. Ackles.”

“I gotta go,” he says.

“Okay,” you say, and immaturely add, “Bye, buddy,” before hanging up.

The party has been a monumental success. You helped Gen, along with a professional party planner, to pull it off.

“So you really had no idea?” You ask Jared once everyone seems to have greeted him and wished him a very happy fortieth birthday. Technically it's not his birthday for another four hours, but the surprise party had needed that early element to make sure it went off without a hitch.

“None,” Jared says, smiling. “I was fully prepared to fly home tomorrow to spend my birthday with Gen and the kids. I was looking forward to it, actually. I didn’t want a big fuss,” he chuckles, looking around the room, “but I’m glad you helped Gen make a fuss. It’s nice to see all the old faces.”

“Not all of them,” you note sourly, commenting on Jensen’s absence. “He wanted to be here, but you know how tight filming schedules can be.”

“I know,” he nods with a tight, sad smile. “It would have been good to see him. For me, at least.”

“Don’t.”

“It’s my birthday. I’m allowed,” he teases.

“It would have been nice to see him,” you agree before Jared can start in on the lecture. “I think. I don’t know. It’s weird and painful, and maybe I'm better off not seeing him until it’s not weird and painful.”

He laughs, pulling you into a hug. “Sounds like you have it all under control.”

“Absolutely.”

You mingle with old friends from Supernatural and new friends from the Walker set. The crew member, a camera operator named Vince, is as cute as Jared promised him to be, and you find yourself tucked in a corner talking with him as the night continues.

You hear the cheerful reunion before you see it. People applaud and shout greetings as Jensen crosses the room and embraces Jared in a tight hug. They hug for a long time, whispered words exchanged between brothers, and you see Jared’s eyes tear up. His night is complete now that Jensen is here.

A few people greet Jensen with hugs and shakes of his hand, but his eyes never seem to focus on them. He distractedly looks around them and seems disappointed when he sees the next person waiting to greet him.

You mostly manage to keep your focus on Vince, but you can see Jensen in your peripheral. You don’t react, but you notice when he finds you. He stares for a long moment, maybe hoping you’ll feel his eyes on you and look at him, but you don’t, and he doesn’t approach.

You're doing nothing wrong, but an uneasiness sneaks up on you. It’s not that you feel like you're somehow betraying Jensen. It’s that you're betraying yourself by denying how you feel. It wouldn’t be fair to start anything with anyone new right now. They’d be a rebound.

Vince seems to notice your focus has shifted and politely parts ways with you.

You spy Jensen across the room, catching up with Brianna, and head for the bar, needing something more potent than wine to make it through the rest of the night.

If possible, Jensen seems to have grown broader, arm muscles bulky beneath the material of his shirt, and you're definitely a fan of the Soldier Boy look. He looks good with a now-trimmed beard and long hair. The sight sends an ache of loneliness through your chest, remembering how it felt to be wrapped in those arms.

A shot turns into two, and when the bartender steps away to refill your wine glass, you feel the air next to you shift. You don’t have to turn to see who it is, the cologne gives him away, and as it arrests your senses, he nudges his shoulder into yours. The familiar heat of his body makes your chest tighten. You so desperately want to turn and embrace him, but you know your fragile emotions would crumble under the weight.

“Whiskey, neat,” he tells the bartender, his voice deep and gruff. He turns his body towards you, one arm resting on the bar, and you sip your drink, silently wishing it was hard liquor again instead of wine.

“Hey,” he says when you don’t look at him.

“Hi,” you respond blandly.

“How are you? You look good.”

“So do you. Really. You look incredible,” you say, without actually looking him in the eyes.

“I hate having to do the diet and exercise thing, though,” he chuckles, “it was so much easier when all I had to do was wear flannel.”

You laugh, but it's bittersweet because everything was easier when he was wearing flannel. “How’s it all going? Stepping into the shoes of a new character?”

“Daunting, but fun.” Jensen talks, and you do all you can to listen and engage but can’t bring yourself to fully meet his eyes.

He says your name so delicately it feels like a caress that sends a shiver through you. You close your eyes and know what he’s asking before he pleads, “Please look at me.”

His eyes have always been mesmerizing, and you know if you gaze into them, the spell will be cast, and there will be no escaping him, even when he’s miles away again. He waits for a beat, but your eyes remain firmly shut, and he closes the space between you, demanding attention.

His exhale wafts through your hair. It’s too close because it's not close enough, and you feel the heartache rising in your chest.

“It was good to see you, Jensen,” you flash a smile in his general direction, picking up your glass.

“Wait,” he says, grabbing your wrist as you turn your back to him. “Don’t leave.”

You freeze in place and turn to look at his hand cuffing your wrist. Slowly you raise your gaze from his hold to his face, preparing yourself for the enchantment of his eyes, but his sad expression is downcast. His chest heaves with a deep breath before he finally looks at you, despondence turning to tentative hope.

“I know I should have said it back then, but I’m saying it now.” His voice is nearly a whisper beneath the muted conversation and ambient music, but it’s clear as a bell to your ears. “Please, don’t leave.”

You turn back to face him, and he takes two deep breaths before he finds the words.

“The last couple of months, I’ve been miserable without you.” He admits, “I’ve had to fight myself to eat, to work out, to do anything that didn’t involve staying in my trailer with a bottle of whiskey. I know that things are weird, but I realized my hesitance had nothing to do with the ending of Supernatural. Yes, I was scared. But I was scared of how easy it was with you, how much I cared for you, how quickly I realized that I am head over heels in love with you.”

You choke out his name as tears well in your eyes, and he steps forward to swipe the first droplet from your cheek.

“I was ready to tell you I’m in love with you, and you were booking flights home,” the heartache of the reminder dims the light behind his eyes, and he drops his gaze to battle whatever emotion he’s feeling. “That scared me more than anything. I didn’t want to say it in the heat of the moment or on the phone, and I was terrified you didn’t feel the same. It doesn’t matter if you don’t. I need you to know that I love you.”

You don’t have words, unexpectedly wishing you had a script so you don’t say something stupid. Then, just as surprisingly, you realize you don’t need words. You take a half step forward and kiss him. Jensen responds immediately, a hand caressing your cheek and drawing you closer as the other slips around your waist to tug you flush against him.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, and he groans into your mouth. His kiss gets you drunker than any alcohol ever could, and after a moment that could have been a minute or an hour, you feel lightheaded.

Jensen chases you as you pull back, placing swift kisses on your lips and pressing his head against yours.

“Damn, I’ve missed you,” you sigh.

“Well, don’t get used to it,” he says, “I’m never letting you leave me again.”

Tag List Info

Tagging Dean Winchester and Supernatural List. Sorry if you don't like RPF.

@alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r-blog / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites

Master Lists: Dean Winchester // Main

#Jensen Ackles #Solider Boy #RPF #RPF FanFic #RPF fanfiction #Jensen Ackles fic #Jensen Ackles RPF fanfic #fluff #angst #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #Jensen Ackles x Reader #Jensen Ackles x You

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deansgapjacket · 1 year

Text

Daily Dean’s green Gap jacket post!

[5x10 Abandon all hope]

Due to this being the 1-5 ~cinematic~ supernatural era I did lighten & warm up these pics but fun fact this was one of the first episodes I had recognized this jacket as THE gap jacket after I had just gotten my very own olive green military gap jacket ;)

#supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural dean #supernatural season 5 #dean’s green jacket #supernatural wardrobe #dean girl #jensen ackles #spnfamily #supernatural cosplay #deans green gap jacket #supernatural props #dean winchester icons #spn #spnfandom #deans gap jacket

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preseriesdean · 1 year

Photo

hoodie. （っ＾▿＾）

#IN. LOVE.#spnedit #deanedit #deanwinchesteredit #corespnedit #supernaturaledit #supernatural #dean winchester #*#i need to timetravel to 2005 usa and hug this boy.#its not a want anymore its a need #1x12 #s1 #dean #wardrobe

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stusbunker · 2 months

Text

Spotless: Rubato

Chapter Fifteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Lee/Pam, Sam/Madison, Benny, Charlie, Elizabeth

Word Count: 3340

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, mentions of Bela's childhood sexual abuse, lots of drunken shenanigans, Benny's not flirting, just being his own charming self, jealousy, Dean is slipping, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

The week between Christmas and New Years is always a week of stasis, celebratory and lazy, just holding its breath for changes to come. In a word, it’s possibility. You still did some work, but not many requests were coming in and social media was bombarded with gratitude and self reflection. Not many people noticed the band’s lack of posts and you were grateful for not having to make excuses for some family time, for anyone.

Your flight home had been arduous, delays and a layover that just left you a zombie for a solid 36 hours afterwards. You woke up on the morning of New Year’s Eve with a sense of dread. You checked your phone just to be safe and all seemed well, or quiet at least. Annoyed with your brain, you decided to punish your body instead, or practice self-care, depending on who you asked. Your stationary bike had gotten a little dusty while you were out of town, but after a couple miles everything else fell out of focus. The rolling hills made you feel invincible.

It had started as physical therapy after your car accident back in college, but biking had turned into one of your go to hobbies. And as boring and non-creative it sounded, it did you a lot of good when your thoughts got too loud. It was like running away from your problems, but it still benefited you both physically and mentally.

Win win.

By three, you were just waiting to get ready. The outfit you picked out with Bela hung on the back of your closet door still wrapped in the Sister Jo’s bag. You slumped in your robe and scrolled through the news as you waited to switch the wash around.

Different broadcasts covered the various local NYE specials and reminded everyone to drive sober, take the bus or get a ride. You thought Dean said he had gotten rides covered the last you talked, but you weren’t sure who was getting you or when, really. If you needed to meet somewhere to go as a group, you needed to order your ride now or everyone would be waiting on you.

Biting your lip, you called him instead of texting, because your worry was immediate not eventual. He picked up on the third ring, slightly out of breath.

“Hey, Trouble, what’s up?” “What’s the plan for tonight? Are we leaving from your place or are you picking me up? I don’t know where Elizabeth’s Nightowl Cafe actually is, Dean.”

Naturally, he laughed. “Hey, look, it’s not a great time. I’m in wardrobe right now. But I’ll make sure you get home safe. Maybe just head over to Bela’s and we’ll pick you both up on the way?”

“The photoshoot is today?! I could have sworn you already had it.”

“Yeah, well, Christmas took longer than I thought and they wedged me in.”

“Dean—”

“Look, I figured it out. And you didn’t have to hold my hand or anything. Now, look, I gotta drop trough, so if you need to continue this conversation with my dick out, by all means. They’re putting me in white pants, so bye-bye Batman boxers.”

You almost swallowed your tongue.

“Yeah, I’m good. You— you have fun with that.”

“See you tonight.”

“Right, bye.”

You slammed your eyes shut, but the damn visuals still flooded your mind. Gorgeous fucking bastard. You exhaled and called Bela, which was far less of a rollercoaster of a conversation and you agreed to be at her place after five to get ready together.

“You still haven’t said anything about your trip home,” you reminded Bela as she handed you another flute of champagne.

You were both dressed and ready, nibbling on an assortment of cheese and crackers on her oversized kitchen island. From what Dean said about Benny’s cousin’s cooking, dinner was on the agenda, but you had started pregaming and didn’t want to get sloppy too early.

“I’m trying to black it out, honestly. It was such pretentious bullshit. And don’t get me started on my mother’s latest project involving the southern gardens at the summer home,” Bela rolled her eyes and shoved another slice of cheese into her mouth.

“Topiaries?”

“Close, a walking maze. Because apparently Queen Victoria is alive and well,” Bela dusted her hands and raised them in surrender. “At least she didn’t try to force me to bring Dean, that would have ended poorly.”

“Dean is actually really good with moms— but I’m pretty sure he’d get arrested if he had to sit down and have a meal with your dad like he isn’t evil incarnate.”

Bela hummed, sipping her drinking.

You took another bit of cheese and made a sandwich, sensing she was holding something back. “You actually told him about it?”

Bela swallowed and chewed on her words. “Let’s just say Dean and I bonded over our less than stellar fathers, but yeah, I agree with you. In fact he said as much, something about knowing how to hide a body and having a big trunk to drag it away.”

You laughed darkly. “That would be Dean. Prepared, but with violence at the ready.”

“Anyway, setting up another fundraiser for Prevent Together for the new year. Please keep both of your calendars free because I need all my people there, alright?”

“Of course,” you promised, reaching across the butcher block countertop and squeezing her hand. Bela never ceased to amaze you with her strength. You switched gears to grant her some space, “is this the first time you’re meeting the rest of the band?”

“Well, I’ve met Sam. But I’m guessing he’s in on the plan. They’re a bit attached-at-the-hip types?”

You smirked. “Basically a package deal, but I think he’s more protective lately. His girlfriend Madison is fun and I hope they work out, he’s a good guy.”

“So who else do I need to charm?”

“Pamela.”

“Pamela?”

“The drummer, possibly psychic and honestly a little frightening at times. But she’s got a big heart to go with her bluntness. If you can’t convince her, we’re all in for it, because she’s gonna dig. So we’ll make sure you and Dean are on all night. I am definitely snagging some midnight shots, so pucker up, darling.” You teased, but honestly, kissing Dean couldn’t be anything but a treat, even just for a camera.

Maybe you were biased.

“Naturally. Alright, and how does Dean know the owner of the cafe?”

“She’s Benny’s cousin. A good friend and head of tour security, sometimes a personal bodyguard.”

Bela nodded, “I think he’s mentioned him as being on standby if one of our nights out got to be too much.”

You were grateful Bela had paid attention, if she was actually dating Dean, she would know all of this already. The less you had to explain on the spot, the less chance of a slip up.

“Big Cajun guy, total teddy bear. He’ll love you,” you added.

“Nice.”

A mechanical crank sounded somewhere behind you. “Is that—?”

“The garage, they must be here,” Bela gathered the tray and unceremoniously set it inside the fridge.

“How did they get into the garage? I didn’t see you get a text.”

“Dean has the code. Finish your drink,” Bela rushed you.

You slammed the rest of your champagne and added your glass in the sink with Bela’s. Something felt weird that Dean knew Bela’s security override code, but then again you didn’t drive, must be why you didn’t have it.

“Hey— whoa!” Dean’s voice snapped you out of your sleuthing spiral. “Lookin’ good, ladies.”

You turned and took him in, burgundy suit without a tie, a dark undershirt with the collar popped. Fucker.

“Thank you, likewise.” Bela leaned in and pecked his cheek.

Dean turned to you. “All set?”

You looked around for your phone and grabbed it and the charger off of the ledge towards the sidedoor. “Yeap. You?” you asked Bela.

“Do I need a touch up?” she asked, tilting her head side to side for your honest inspection.

“Nope, lipstick did its job. You’re glorious,” you affirmed.

“Right, well, shall we?” Bela gestured toward the door which Dean pushed open for you and Bela to go first. Past Bela’s MG the big door was still open, showing a pair of black SUVs waiting on the curb. As you stepped out onto the short drive, Lee screamed out a backwindow from the first vehicle, “ladies, ladies, ladies, are we ready to have a good time?!”

You laughed, dancing a little up the incline and pumping your fist to an imaginary beat.

“Trouble’s ready! What about you? You gonna give this one a run for his money?” Lee teased and then took a swig off of his own bottle of champagne.

“You can count on it,” Bela said darkly, eyes only on Dean. Everyone cheered as Dean put his hand on the small of her back and kissed her temple.

From the second SUV Sam emerged smirking and opened the door, waving you all inside. It was time to get the show on the road.

You had met Elizabeth a handful of times and everytime you were floored by her natural hospitality. The cafe was closed for the event, where barely thirty of you were gathered in the vintage-diner- themed all night cafe. She had tables set up with appetizers and a bartender working the soda fountain so you could get dessert with your booze if you wanted.

You wondered if Dean had requested the pie, because there were three cut and displayed on a stand with plastic domes to keep them from drying out.

Oldies played from the antique jukebox and everyone mingled as others arrived. You snapped pictures of the guests and the hand painted mural on the wall showcasing blues artists and faces from classic Hollywood. Everything was gorgeous and it was a little overwhelming seeing everyone dressed to the nines, but you remembered how smashing you looked in your outfit and tucked your shoulders back and held your head high.

Eventually, Benny found you and pulled you in for one of his signature bear hugs.

“It’s been too long, doll. Stickin’ to your namesake or have you been behavin’ ?”

You chuckled, pulling back to look up at his handsome face. “Oh you know, I do what I can. You?”

Benny’s bright eyes searched for something and eased you back onto your heels. “Uh, yeah, good. Itchin’ to get back on the road. Working the movie lots is a real pain, glad it’s only temporary.”

The song changed and Benny hummed along, you caught a glimpse of Sam and Madison talking with Bela while Dean and Lee waited in line for drinks.

“I can’t wait for the tour either, I think we all could stand to get back to basics.”

“Boys causing a ruckus for ya?” Benny asked knowingly.

“Nah, just a feeling. They’ve been working too hard more than anything. So a little balance will probably do the trick.”

“Well, that’s what we’re here for. Time to play hard. Wanna dance?” You looked around and sure enough, Lee and Pamela had started swinging to Johnny B. Goode, while some of the other roadies were shuffling along with their partners in a less flamboyant way.

You flexed your knee and decided you were tipsy enough to risk it and your pride for such an earnest proposal. “Lead the way.”

Benny was surprisingly light on his feet for such a sturdy guy and he helped you get in a good groove, just for the song to switch into Patsy Cline. Benny slowed it down into a stroll to fit the song and you giggled as he told you about what his ex Andrea had done now, after getting out of prison for trying to stab him, of all things.

“You are so better off without her,” you told him, patting his chest as the song came to a close.

Dinner was phenomenal: medallion sized steaks that were still juicy inside with spiral cut fried potatoes, green bean almondine and Waldorf salad. There were four tables set for eight set up in the space that would usually hold a dozen two or four seaters. Elizabeth finally took a seat as you were half way through a plate, but you made sure to let her know how amazing everything was.

“Oh, it’s nothing, now make sure you save room for pie. Got Strawberry Rhubarb, Dutch Apple and Blackberry waitin’,” she insisted like a favorite grandmother and not somebody you could have gone to school with.

Dean groaned deeper as she mentioned each variety, making everyone around your table share a knowing look.

“Easy there, Dean might need to claim a pie as his own, you know how he gets. And I am not one for sloppy seconds,” Benny teased.

The table erupted and Dean didn’t even look like he cared. “If she ends up sending me home with a whole pie, it’s my business what happens to it.”

Tears were burning in your eyes from laughter and the lecherous look Dean shot Benny. He was ridiculous.

You turned to Bela, “good thing Sam isn’t at our table or he’d need to excuse himself.”

“It is getting a bit indecent isn’t it?” Bela said out of the side of her mouth.

“Are you raggin’ on me now, too?!” Dean asked aghast.

“Of course not! Just don’t want your girlfriend to get jealous of a pastry,” you quipped.

A low rumble of an accepted burn answered from around the table.

“Hey now, my girl knows what tickles my taste buds, if you know what I’m saying,” Dean shot back, earning him a fist bump from Lee.

Bela rolled her eyes and shrugged, which only made the laughter louder. The humor dissipated until every noise was roaring like the ocean in your ears. This wasn’t even the worst thing you’d heard out of Dean’s mouth, after years of groupies and life on tour, you thought you’d heard and seen it all. But Bela not denying Dean’s prowess in pussy eating suddenly made you feel impossibly lost.

You literally set up the joke and now you wished for anything to take it back.

“Gentleman, please!” Elizabeth broke into the cacophony. “Or no dessert.”

Which promptly set them all off once again, but they got their act together enough to be gracious when the pie did arrive. You had blackberry and it was thick and rich enough to keep you from opening your big mouth again. Also the vodka cranberry you had switched to was a perfect chaser for the sweetness of the filling.

Two more drinks and three hours later, you were in better spirits and a sequined top hat. The noise makers were harder to come by, Madison and Benny fighting over the last one like toddlers over the last Hot Wheel. Sam had to break it up, which meant Madison won anyway, naturally. But at least Benny could still whistle. The countdown was getting close and everyone was crammed together on the makeshift dance floor under the dimmed lights, talking and swaying in circles. Dancing would have been too much with all the anticipation in the air.

You had your camera at the ready, taking small videos of the crowd and snapping selfies with anyone within reach. The lone television behind the counter hopped between coverage of celebrations in Vegas, Seattle and LA. You did a quick scan of your immediate vicinity for Bela and Dean. Finally, you found them next to Pam and Lee, who were sharing a bottle of bourbon between them, while Bela and Dean were whispering and readying their noisemakers and confetti respectively.

“Oooo, two couples one shot! I want you guys to make it count okay, this is for posterity’s sake!” you ordered, framing the shot just as the countdown began.

10…9…8…

Dean pulled Bela close by the waist. Lee tipped back another swig before almost losing his hat to the movement.

7…6…5…

Bela gazed up at Dean’s face and said something you couldn’t hear over the numbers shouting out of every corner of the party.

4…3…2…

Dean leaned in and started kissing Bela before she could get to one, tipping her back until she almost knocked into Lee, who was hauling Pam up by her haunches before starting to tongue fuck right there in front of your camera. You snapped countless shots, screaming and jumping in place as you worked your magic. Hot people doing hot things who were also clearly into it, was marketing gold.

Eat that Crowley.

Sam swooped you up in a hug and wished you happy new year, then came Charlie, who had arrived after dinner with some girls from her LARPing group. After a few elbows to the side, Dean broke from Bela’s mouth and welcomed you and Charlie into a group hug. The speakers blasted Auld Lang Syne and everyone joined in, arms linked and swaying to the stilted beat.

Elizabeth ensured the party was still going, so she had her people put out fresh appetizers and turned the jukebox back on. There was a run for the bathroom and then for refills and before you knew it it was after one. You had a fresh drink in your hand and a circle had formed around you of women grooving to Mustang Sally.

“Ride Sally, RIDE!” you all bellowed.

Bela had taken off her shoes and was holding them over her head as she swayed her hips. You whipped your head and shoulders back and forth feeling loose and timeless. Charlie was snapping and getting soulful as she sang along, knowing every line of the verses even.

Sam Cooke followed Wilson Pickett on the jukebox, slowing it down and sending your little circle off towards their partners. You didn’t care, you just kept swaying and taking turns singing “yeah— yeah!” and sipping your cocktail.

The crowd was thinning and you knew either brother would be corralling the group for the after party at their place shortly. Thank the label for drivers and security all on the craziest night of the year.

“Hey, you good?” Dean’s voice came out of nowhere and you turned towards his warmth, eyes closed and humming.

“Yeah, is it time–?”

“Let’s get off the dancefloor, I can barely hear you,” Dean took your elbow and brought you over to the edge of the counter where the bartender was wiping glasses dry.

“How are you? Need to puke and rally before we get in the car?” Dean asked firmly, testing your sobriety by your answer and the focus of your eyes.

“I’m fine, why? Is Bela puking?” you looked around for your bestie amongst the remaining partygoers.

“No, look, I just, here,” Dean brushed his knuckles against your cheek to get you to look back at him. Once he had your full attention, he leaned in and licked his lips, watching you as you waited for him to finish his thought. And then he was kissing you, hand on the back of your head and impossible lips massaging yours into complete submission.

You shuttered around a breath and opened your mouth for his tongue. That delicious sensation was enough to reset your brain and you pulled back, gasping.

You couldn’t form words and Dean’s face went from sleepy to wary to disappointed all in the blink of an eye.

“Look— you deserve a midnight kiss, too, you know. I just—- thought you should have one,” Dean said in the space between maybe and almost.

You cleared your throat. “Oh, well, I guess it’s okay then. Thanks?”

You couldn’t look him in the eye, you were too shellshocked, too exposed.

“I’ll start getting everybody towards the exit. See you at the cars,” Dean said lowly, fingertips brushing your hip as he moved through your space.

You finished your drink and got a road beer from the blissfully unaware bartender. It was time to slow down, especially if you were going to be in Dean’s space the rest of the night.

Damn it.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Sixteen: Schleppen

#spotless series #dean/reader #dean/bela #slow burn #rockstar au #fake dating #dean angst #dean's got a potty mouth but you love it

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queen-of-deans-booty · 9 days

Text

New Life's Purpose

Pairing: No Pairing (female!reader)

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request a imagine with both of the Winchester with a tribrid (werewolf, witch, vampire) and half angel daughter of any archangel that is over 600 years old look like 25 and study some many careers and is super intelligent and have a lot of money, companies, etc and when the Winchesters find out they are surprised and fascinated?

Summary: You've completed your life's mission. You've lived a luxurious lifestyle. You want something more. You want to do something more with your life. Something like a new life's purpose.

Square Filled: “I’m not saying I’m amazing, but sometimes I’m distinctly above average.” (2021) for @spnquotebingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

All these choices yet you don’t know which one you want. The manager gathered everything he had that fit the description you gave but you’re still having a hard time deciding.

“If I may, ma’am, I think this one would look fantastic on you,” he says and points to the necklace.

“It’s not for me. It’s for a friend.”

The store manager is nervous because this is such a high-end store that the only people who come in to shop must have millions to their name--which you do. More like billions, but that’s neither here nor there.

You tap your fingers on the desk rhythmically as you look at all of the options. People pass by the store on their way to other stores that they can afford but none of them interest you. Not until two men walk by that makes you smile.

“Sam! Dean!” Both men stop and look into the store in confusion. “Over here. Come here.” They look at each other in confusion. “Come here. I need you two.” They step inside, unsure of what is going on. You grab the necklace the store manager pointed to and one that you had your eyes on, and you place both necklaces on Sam and Dean’s neck. “Which one would look better?”

“What the hell is going on?” Dean asks.

“It’s hard to say, ma’am. They both compliment their skin tones.”

“I’ll get both,” you shrug and hand the necklaces back to the manager.

“Of course, ma’am,” the manager grins and takes the necklaces back. He rings up the very expensive necklaces and accepts your cash before handing you the bag with them in it. “Have a pleasant day, ma’am.”

“I intend to. Thank you, Tony.” You grab the bag and leave the store knowing the Winchesters are going to follow you. You hold the bag to Sam who takes it with a confused look. “Hold this for me, please.”

“What is going on?” Sam mutters to his brother.

“Who are you? How do you know us?” Dean asks.

As you’re walking, you look into the windows of various stores, only interested in ones that have the price tags in the thousands.

“You’re Sam and Dean Winchester, born to Mary Campbell and John Winchester. Mary died when Sam was six months old by Azazel and John died by selling his soul for Dean to the same demon. You two grew up on the road with fun Uncle Bobby who later died by a gunshot wound to the head, courtesy of that dick, Dick. I’m sure I missed an angel or two in there somewhere.”

Dean immediately stops you outside the store you’re looking for.

“Okay, lady, who the hell are you? I won’t ask again. How do you know us?”

“My name is Y/N, and I’m the daughter of the archangel, Michael. I’m a tribrid of a werewolf, vampire, and witch along with angelic grace floating around inside of me. I guess that makes me a quad-brid,” you chuckle at your joke. You walk into the store and look around for some new clothes since your old wardrobe is getting pretty boring to style. “Ooh, this would look good on you, Dean. Feel free to get whatever you want. My treat.”

“Why did you find us? What do you want?” Sam asks.

You take a nice shirt and hold it up against Sam, deciding that this would look good on him. You do the same for Dean and let the younger Winchester hold your purchases.

“I’m six hundred years old, rich, and smart. I’m kind of tired of spending all day every day in stores all around the world spending my money aimlessly. I’m not saying I’m amazing, but sometimes I’m distinctly above average.” You pick out a few shirts you like and toss them to Sam who catches them easily. “A life of luxury isn’t all that glamorous. I want to hunt and that’s why you two are here.”

“Okay, why us?” Sam asks, grunting when you toss two pants at him.

“Why not you?” you scoff. “You’re the best of the best or so I’m told. I haven’t been in touch with Heaven for quite some time now, so if things have changed and you’re not the best anymore, I will go elsewhere.”

Dean steps in your way just as you pick two pairs of pants for both brothers. He crosses his arms trying to make himself look bigger than he is.

“Sweetheart, we’re the best of the best.”

You toss the pants to Sam who scrambles to catch them.

“Thought so,” you smirk. You walk to the cash register and pay for everything that’s in Sam’s arms. You take the bags and hold them out to Sam who takes them from you. “So, can I join you?”

“No offense, Y/N, but we don’t even know you. How can we trust you to know what we do?”

“Quiz me if you want but do it while we eat. I’m starving. You two hungry?”

You leave the store and head to the food court where you order three meals and bring them to an empty table. Sam set all the bags on the empty chair just as Dean dug into his meal.

“Dude,” Sam whispers.

“What? I’m not going to turn down a free meal,” he says with his mouth full.

“Okay,” Sam nods, not yet touching his food, “how do you kill a Djinn?”

“A silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood. Or bash its brains in. Both are very effective.”

“Rugarus?”

“Fire.”

“Shapeshifter?”

“Silver.”

“Vampires?”

“Decapitation.”

“Vetala?”

“Silver to the heart and twist.”

“Okay,” Sam nods, “what about a Phoenix?”

“Iron or the Colt.”

“Dragons?”

“Dragon-killing sword.”

“How about a Jefferson Starship?”

At the name, Dean smirks.

“Silver, decapitation, or just ripping their hearts right out of their chests,” you smile. “Did I pass?”

“I’m impressed,” Sam chuckles.

“My turn,” Dean says and swallows his food. “How do you change the sparkplugs in a car?”

“Seriously?”

Both you and Sam give Dean a weird look to which he shrugs and continues eating.

“Okay, Little Miss Quad-brid. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you haven’t fought a day in your life.” You didn’t say anything so he assumes you’re not going to correct him which means he’s right. “How the hell are you supposed to fight a monster?”

You take a bite of your food and stare at Dean in the eyes. Suddenly, every single fluorescent light in the food court explodes and shatters. The only light source is the sun coming from the windows. Two of the food place signs crackle and spark before crumbling to the ground. People scream and run from the place but you continue to eat your food as if nothing happened.

“Like that.”

Sam and Dean are stunned into silence, fascinated by your powers.

“Okay, then why do you want to hunt?” Sam asks.

You sigh and push aside your plate of food.

“I was created for one thing and one thing only. To make new angels. Heaven is dying and Michael wanted new angels to repair the damage Metatron caused when the Angels fell. I did that. I made plenty of new angels and Heaven is now thriving, but I want to do more with my life now that my ‘mission’ is over. I have multiple degrees, mastered skills, and got rich in the six hundred years I’ve been here. I loved the fancy lifestyle before but now I want to try something different. I want to save people and bring meaning back to my life. So, can I hunt with you or not?”

Sam and Dean look at each other and have a silent conversation through their eyes.

“On one condition,” Dean says when they’re done.

“What?”

“Endless supply of alcohol. Like, top-shelf shit.” Sam rolls his eyes and you chuckle. “Oh, and I want spa days.” Dean snaps at his brother before he can say anything. “Shut up.”

“My wealth is yours,” you smile. “Spend it how you’d like.”

“Then you got yourself a deal,” Dean nods.

Maybe this time, you can do something good with your life. Humans are creatures that need to be protected, and this is your way to make sure that happens.

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

#sam winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn fluff

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alexsoenomel · 1 year

Text

Dreamy Skirts (Sam Winchester x Reader Smut)

Summary: Sam likes you in your skirt so a night out turns into something cheeky.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: oral sex

Word count: 1504

Note: This was a dream I had when I was 18. Enjoy! Like/reblog or both if you like it! :)

“I think I’m going to like it here.” Sam said excited while putting his bag and backpack on the bedroom floor.

It was summer and after he and his brother almost got killed on a hunt you decided enough was enough. You needed a break from everything. Nothing bad was happening in your area so you decided to take a trip to Miami. You planed the whole thing just the three of you. Hotel by the beach with great food and even found Dean a separate room which made him very happy. You and Sam tend to be….loud, sometimes.

“I think so too.” You smiled.

“Perfect time to catch up on my reading.”

“Just how many books have you brought with you Sam?” You asked knowing his book worm tendencies.

“Maybe, possibly 3?” He said looking down shyly.

You smiled remembering how you liked watching him read, the way he would get lost in the book made you happy more than the words can explain. You got closer to him wrapping your hands around his body pulling him into a tight hug. His hands rested on your back drawing small cycles on it.

“I love you. Thank you for convicting me to go on this vacation with you. I need it.”

“I love you too. And I know you do. I was worried about you. Sometimes I really hate being a hunter. ”

He smiled. “I know.”

Day one you slept in. Neither swimming nor going out, you were dead tired from the drive, so you spent in bed talking about life and eating junk food. Dean on the other hand had other things to do….like get laid.

Day two on the other hand was different. Unforgettable. After spending the whole day on the beach you wanted to go out and have a drink. Sam on the other hand wanted to go to bed at 9pm.

“But I’m tired.” He said. “And don’t really want to drink.”

“Pretty please?” You made a sad puppy dog face hoping he would surrender.

“We spend all day swimming where do you find the energy?” He asked and got under the covers on his side of the bed. He was wearing his black boxers and a white shirt aka his pajamas.

“I always have the energy for alcohol.” You simply said. “Come on it will be fun…plus…” You got closer to him and kissed his cheek. “I will wear something nice for you.” You whispered into his ear sending shivers down his spine.

“You are making this very hard for me (Y/N).”

“That’s the point genius.” You lowered your lips onto his neck feeling him breathe nervously. “Oh come on.”

“If I go now, tomorrow I want to just sit by the pool and read.” He finally said.

“Deal tomorrow will be our book club day.”

“Fine.” He got up, took his clothes from his bag and went towards the bathroom to get ready.

“Love you.” You said.

“I know you do.” You heard him say.

While he was in the bathroom you took the time to get ready. You decided a black high waisted skirt and a white crop top was the way to go. You didn’t wear skirts but when you did (some cases demanded a more classy wardrobe choices) you would always catch Sam staring and undressing you with his eyes while licking those god damn perfect lips of his. Teasing him to get what you want was your favorite pastime. The fact was you have always been a shy girl with so little confidence, but being with Sam gave you something you never knew you had, freedom. It was freeing to know you could do anything you wanted and make the first steps without getting judged or criticized. As you were about to do your makeup in front of the mirror that was near the bed you shared, Sam finished with the bathroom. He decided to wear pants and a flannel shirt. Classic Winchester. When he entered the room he saw you getting lost in your makeup bag looking for god knows what. He stood there leaning on door frame looking at you and thinking how beautiful you looked and how no other human being had made him feel the way you did. He was lost in your beauty and fragileness in that very moment, but he also thought how sexy you looked in that skirt and how he suddenly had an urge to be underneath it making you moan his name over and over again.

Suddenly he wrapped his strong arms around your small frame and started kissing your neck which he knew it was your weakest link. You put your eyeliner on the table as soon as you felt his lips on your skin. You smirked looking at the mirror.

“So you are not tired after all?” You teased.

“I don’t think I am anymore.” He said between kisses.

“I need to put on some make up I want to look good for you.”

His hand traveled up in your skirt feeling your delicate skin of your inner thigh on his fingertips. A sigh escaped from your lips. Oh how you liked when he did that.

“You don’t need makeup.” His hand moved between your legs causing you to moan a little. “You are perfect without it.” Sam’s confidence had always been a huge turn on for you. Suddenly you weren’t in the mood for drinks anymore.

“What has gotten into you Sammy?” You asked seductively biting your lip. “Is it the skirt?”

“Maybe…”He smirked. His hand was still underneath your skirt, slowly rubbing you through your panties. You got on your tiptoes and moaned even louder this time. “I really like it.”

“I’m glad you do.” You managed to say as you turned to face him. You place the tip of your index finger on his lips feeling its wetness and warmth. “So no drinks tonight then?”

“Seems like it.”

“Perfect.” You said and kissed him. He kissed back with no hesitation, with even more passion and fire making your body ache for him. You became needy and vulnerable under his touch. Breaking the kiss you took his hand and sat on the edge of the bed pulling him closer to him for another kiss. He bit your lower lip instantly knowing you would whimper as he pushed you down on the bed. He was right, you did whimper a little. You always do. You moved upwards onto the bed while Sam was on top of you balancing himself with his elbows. You took the shirt off with ease showing off your white bra as Sam watched you closely like you were an art form. When you tried to take of your skirt he stopped you.

“Don’t.”

“Sammy do you actually have a thing for my skirts? Because I have seen you stare multiple times.”

“I’m guilty. I can’t help it.”

“God I love you.” You said feeling like the luckiest person alive. And you indeed were.

“Likewise (Y/N)” Sam smiled and started to kiss your neck again. You tugged on his gorgeous locks of hair while his hand went underneath your skirt again. His kisses moved on your collar bones then between your breasts making you weak and needy while his hand worked the same magic again making you wet by the minute. When his mouth was close to the hem of your skirt he stopped to look at you. You were panting from just his kisses looking at the blank ceiling. He smirked and moved his head between your legs and you lost him. Suddenly he took off your panties. Dear Lord….

A few seconds passed and you could feel your body coming alive from all that pleasure he was giving you with his tongue.

“Sammy…” You moaned. “Fuck.”

The pleasure kept building up until you found yourself moaning uncontrollably. “I THINK I’M GONNA-“

And you did. Stood up on his knees between your legs with his chin shining. He took off your skirt and whipped himself clean before he kissed you again.

His clothes soon after went on the floor and your hands were all over his skin. You flipped him at one point so you were now on top of him kissing and biting him more than you should. You were such a tease sometimes. He was in his boxers so you took the chance to feel his hardness…

“What’s that?” You suddenly asked.

“What?”

“That song? Are you serious?” You laughed.

Someone played Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley. You thought for a second it came from the outside but the truth was it was your alarm. Your little paradise disappeared and you woke up all hot and bothered. It was Monday and time for work. You were still single and Sam still wasn’t real.

“Are you fucking serious?!” You whispered angrily and turned the alarm off forcing yourself back to sleep. Fuck work. Fuck everything...for like 5 more minutes.

Mondays were truly great.

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