#Dean Winchester/reader

[justagirlswrld]

Use somebody

a/n: (i would’ve folded so fast, look at him) kinda got carried away. feed back welcomed!

summary: dean winchester decided he’d like to leave more than a car behind.

warnings: porn w plot, breeding kink?, bitter sweet, unprotected p in v, love confessions, friends to lovers.

Dean Winchester only had a year to live.

It was a revelation that you were still trying to wrap your head around, it sounded so strange coming from between his pink lips as you sat with your friend. He said it so casually, like he was talking about the weather, but for you the reminder stung and you found yourself wincing at his words.

Your heart deflates at the way Dean’s able to accept his fate, he doesn’t stutter as he moves onto another topic. You can’t find it in you to listen though, your mind drifting to his dwindling moments on earth. You decide to focus on studying Deans face and try to commit it to memory, his angular jaw, the brown stubble that rested there.

His long lashes flutter and you’re brought back to reality by the sound of his baritone voice, “What’s with the pout?” Your gaze moves from his verdant eyes to the steaming coffee cup on your dining room table, hands almost robotically reaching for your spoon and some creamer.

Dean’s eyes don’t leave your face, his expression changing to match yours. He could read you like an open book, you knew he knew you were upset so you tried to hurry the conversation along, “It’s nothing. What were you saying?” He’d already gone on to you and Sam about how he didn’t want any water works because of his “decision.”

You didn’t think you could take another talking to without bursting into tears.

Dean was quiet for a moment, he seemed almost nervous, “I was saying-” His brown eyebrows furrow in concentration as he tries to find the correct words, “Meeting Ben shook me up…but not as much as Lisa telling me he wasn’t mine.”

Your eyes flick to his, you’re unsure what to say for a moment. You knew Dean valued family, you knew he’d go to the end of the Earth for Sam and Bobby- maybe even you, but you’d never thought of him having one of his own.

“Dean, I-” You’re not sure what you can say to comfort him,so you’re glad that he cuts you off with a sad smile.

“I don’t know they just got me thinking- I’ll never get the white picket fence, two kids and a golden retriever.” He rubs a large hand over his face and sighs, “I knew it wasn’t a possibility as a hunter but..now..” Dean doesn’t finish his thought but you knew without a doubt what would come from his mouth next, now he’d never get it whether he wanted to or not.

You reach across the table and take Dean’s hand in yours, rubbing a thumb over his scarred knuckles in way you hoped was soothing. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps, “What I’m trying to get at is, I’d like to leave something behind when I go.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, “Dean, you know Sam would never get rid of baby.” He laughs at you then, “What? No- I mean a kid.” You look at him like he’s grown a second head. For a moment you think about grabbing your holy water, with the way he was talking you were sure Dean had to be possessed.

He takes in your bewildered expression, “What? It’s crazy that I want a little tyke running around?” You can’t help but to shake your head at the sight of Dean beaming at the thought of a little him.

“It’s actually the craziest thing i’ve heard today.” Dean’s smile shrinks at your words and you internally face palm, sorry is on the tip of your tongue but Dean cuts you off again, “Well, i’m about to one up it.”

No way, Dean could come up with something crazier than that.

He squeezes the hand that was still resting in his, drawing circles on your calloused skin as he found the courage to say the words that he’s been going over for weeks.

“I want you to be the mother of my child.”

Your jaw drops and your eyebrows almost shoot off your face. You instantly pull your hand from Dean’s, watching him wearily as you pick up the phone resting on your table, the shock leaves you unable to sit and you decide to pace around the area of your kitchen as you begin dialing the first number you can think of.

He gets up from his spot and walks over to you, “Who are you calling?” You look at Dean warily, “Your brother, obviously going to hell has you going crazy too.”

You let Dean take the phone from your hand and watch as he sits it facedown on the granite island. He places both of his hands on your shoulders and looks directly into your eyes, despite your mind going haywire from his proposal the gesture helps you calm down just a little.

“Y/N, this is the most sane i’ve ever been.” Your eyes search Dean’s face for...anything. Something to let you know he wasn’t in his right mind. When you’re unable to find anything concerning, you shake yourself from his hold and walk wordlessly over to the cabinet where you keep your liquor.

The bottle’s top is off in seconds and you’re tipping your head back to take a long swig of the burning liquid before passing it to Dean. “We’ve been friends for eight years, you’ve never made a move on me.”

You take him in as he brings the bottle to his full lips, taking a drink just as long as yours, “You don’t fuck hunters.” That was true, it was actually the first thing you’d told him when he’d approached you that night in the packed bar.

You lean against the back of your couch as Dean mirrors you on the island across from you. “Why me? Why not Lisa? She seemed like a great girl.” His cheeks go rosy, a sight you aren’t use to seeing, it’s like the man exuded confidence.

Dean stuffs his hands in the pockets of his worn leather jacket, “I don’t want Lisa, I want you.” He takes his lip between his white teeth before he continues, “I know you. You’re funny, a good cook, a good person, a bad ass hunter in your day-”, You can’t help but smile at the praise.

“I watched you with those kids back in Springfield, Cullman-,” A small smile raises the corner of Dean’s mouth, “Shit- if I had to name all the places we’d be here all day. Point is…you’re awesome.” Dean has a look in his eye that you can’t place, “I already know you’d make a great mom, I’ve see it.”

The small smile morphs into a smirk, “Plus your face is beautiful and your body’s bangin’, who wouldn’t want a milf for a baby momma?”, You scoff playfully, instantly reaching over to punch Dean in the arm (despite the way the words made your heart flutter).

He’s wincing as you begin collecting the dirty dishes on the table, you needed a distraction, and it was easier to collect your thoughts without his eyes on yours. Dean waits with bated breath as you begin running warm water, he can hear you clearly over the sound of clacking dishes when you do reply, “Give me a day to think about it.”

It had been the fastest twenty four hours you’d ever experienced, your brain seemed to be sore with all the thinking you’d done.

You’d drank straight from the bottle while you weighed Dean’s implausible proposition. Your mind kept throwing questions at you, ones you weren’t sure you were even ready to answer. Would you really be a good mom? Did you even want to get pregnant? Have a kid? As much as you wanted to say no, that was your whole point of leaving the life, you wanted a normal one.

Not that normal was getting pregnant by a man that was going to Hell soon.

You ended up sitting down and drunkly making a pros and cons list. The cons obviously outnumbering the pros, but the first pro you’d scribbled on the wrinkled sheet of paper outweighed them all. You loved Dean Winchester and he loved you, whether you’d admit it or not.

Your mind was still racing as you stirred the beef stew warming on your stove, You barely had a chance to gather your thoughts before the clock read four, meaning Dean would be bursting through your door at any second.

You tried to focus on the down pour happening outside your small, kitchen window but your mind kept drifting back to the day before, when Dean laid out the reasons he wanted you to carry his child, the way wrinkles formed by his shining eyes when his lips curved into a smile.

You shook your head to try and clear your jumbled thoughts, letting out a frustrated sigh as you turned off the eye of the stove. You’d tried your hardest not to get entangled with the Winchester boys, but you knew you were more intertwined than ever.

You jump when your front door slams closed, hand instantly going to where you would’ve kept a knife strapped to your thigh. “Honey, i’m home.” You roll your eyes at Dean, hoping he’ll notice that and not the blush blooming on your cheeks.

You waste no time, your hands moving to ladle two bowls of soup and place them on the dining table, “Sweet.” Dean says as he instantly scoots into one of the chairs.

You pull the rolls from the oven before sitting in the chair in front of him, Dean’s dunking one of the flaky pieces of bread in his soup before you can tell him to let them cool off.

Once Dean is finished licking his bowl clean the conversation from the day before picks back up, if you could even call it a conversation, it was more of you giving reasons why this was a terrible idea and Dean countering them (you didn’t expect him to be so prepared).

You bite your lip nervously before asking your last question, ignoring the smug look on Dean’s face. “What if…somehow, you don’t go to Hell, Dean? Then what?” You don’t voice the rest of your question, will you walk away from our child? Will you walk away from me?

Dean’s moss-green eyes turn serious, “Then i’d step up to the plate…be a good dad and whatever…else you wanted me to be.” Dean reaches a hand across the table and takes yours, mirroring the gesture you’d done for him yesterday.

You open your mouth, ready to argue but there’s no need, Dean knows you like the back of his hand. “I’m not just saying this,” his voice goes soft, “I’ve always loved you, Y/N.” He looks sheepish as you balk at him, “Too much?”

Your head falls into your palms and Deans by your side and patting your back before you notice that you’re crying, “What’s wrong? I thought that was a good thing.” You laugh despite the depressing situation, “It is Dean..I just hate it took these circumstances for me to find out.” Dean doesn’t stop rubbing your back as he huffs out a, “Me too.”

When you’ve pulled yourself together and wiped all the salty tears from your face you finally turn to him, “Ok, I’ll do it-”, An excited grin takes over Dean’s features, “As long as you explain to Sam and Bobby that this was your idea.”

Dean is picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder faster than you can protest, your hands instinctively tighten around the cloth material of his shirt and you can’t help but to breathe in his musky scent.

You curse at him when he kicks your bedroom door open, the sound of Dean’s laugh is like music to your ears, you hope you can remember the sound before the year is up.

Dean throws you onto your unmade bed and you land on your soft comforter with a bounce and a giggle, propping yourself on your elbows to watch as Dean pulls his t-shirt over his head, you can’t help but lick your lips at the sight of his taut stomach.

“See something you like?” The words are spoken through a shit eating grin as he flexes a defined bicep, you roll your eyes and bite your lip to keep a smile from forming, you didn’t want Dean’s head to get any bigger than it already was.

“What if I said no?” Dean’s large hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you to the end of the bed before moving to slot himself between your thighs. Once he’s got you in front of him, his hands slide down your manicured feet to your glabrous calfs then the supple skin of your thighs, leaving a path of fire in their wake.

“Then i’d say you’re full of crap.” The words are said almost breathlessly as Dean’s hands explored your body. Dean’s touches were sensual but not sexual, just warm hands trying to learn the feel of your flushed skin. He leaves no piece of skin untouched, for a man as experienced as him, he reminded you of a virgin in this moment.

When his hands are (finally) pulling off your thin cami Dean lets out a sigh, “You don’t know how long i’ve wanted to do this.” His half lidded eyes watch yours as he throws your top unceremoniously over his shoulder. Your mind is swirling with too many emotions to think of a witty reply so you simply say, “Me too.”

Before the last o can leave your mouth Dean’s plump lips are capturing yours. You were never one for cheesy, romance, cliches but you swore fireworks went off when your lips connected.

Your hands can’t decide which part of Dean they’d like to hold on to as your lips move together. It starts slow and tentative as your hands move up his arms to squeeze his sculpted biceps.

It quickly turns into something hungrier and you pull him against you with a hand on his back, his moving to tangle his fingers in your messy hair.

The weight of Dean’s chest against yours isn’t something you thought you’d get the pleasure of enjoying. As his body engulfs yours, you prayed that you wouldn’t get too accustomed to the feeling in the coming months.

You shiver when Dean moves from your lips to your neck, his warm tongue reaching out to taste the skin there. Your legs are around his waist without a second thought. Despite being covered by the thin fabric of your pajama shorts, you can still feel how much Dean wanted this- you, through the rough denim of his jeans.

You can’t help it when you salaciously grind against his growing buldge, panting in Dean’s ear as his wet lips move from your collar bone to suck on your pert nipple. He grinds his hips into you, and the feel of him has you tightening your legs around his waist.

Your hand moves from the expanse of his back to card through his silky hair when his tongue flicks against your neglected nipple. Your breath falters when his fingers ghost over your hips, before ending up in the waist band of your shorts, no doubt feeling the lack of panties. Despite that, Dean still unlatches himself from your nipple to softly ask if you were sure.

“Just wanna give you an out if you want it. Don’t want you to do something you regret.” Dean says as he stares up at you with green, doe eyes, his warm breath tickling your chest.

You could feel your tough exterior cracking as you looked at him, “I could never regret you Dean Winchester,” The gentle words are forgein as they tumble from your mouth and his expression is a mixture between shock and elation. Before he can comment your hands move to cup his chiseled jaw, dragging him up your body to kiss him deeply.

Warmth pools in your stomach when you feel his fingers slip into your shorts, moving over your mound before finding the slick hidden between your puffy folds. Dean pulls away from you slightly, “Fuck-”, you watch as he licks his parted lips, “you’re dripping already.”

Your breath catches when Dean runs a finger up your slit, he watches your face as he sinks two, thick digits into your awaiting heat. He sets an excruciatingly slow pace but the drag of his fingers, the chill from the silver, rings on his fingers, sends enough pleasure through you to have you screwing your eyes shut.

An involuntary whine escapes your lips when Dean pulls his fingers from you, the feeling of your approaching release ebbing away as you watch Dean rise to his full height. “Calm down, darlin’. Just getting comfortable.” His hands move to push down his jeans before you’re scrambling to stop him, “Let me.”

Dean obliges, watching as you sit up and eagerly grab the waist band of his jeans before pulling them down his strong thighs. Once he’s stepped out them, you move to free him from his boxers but his hand stops you. A inquisitive expression overtakes your face, Dean takes in the look on your features and rushes to reassure you. “Just wanna taste you first.” Your heart hammers in your chest as Dean kneels on the carpeted floor.

“I thought i’d be on my knees.” You joke nervously, the muscles in your thighs jump when Dean places a hand there, “As much as I want that…” Your skin prickles as he pulls your shorts down, “I need this first.”

You try to take a mental picture of Dean as he situates himself between your legs, concentrating on how he places a plush thigh on each shoulder, “Besides, we’ve got all the time in the world.” Your brain instantly goes to refute his point but your argument is lost when he places a kiss onto your weeping cunt.

You let out a mewl when Dean’s tongue lazily drags through your folds, when the muscle finds your clit your hands shoot to his hair, accidentally pulling harder than you hoped. Dean groans from the sensation and your brain turns to mush, his hands tighten around your thighs as you lay back on the bed.

It takes everything in you to rise slightly and watch as Dean laps at you. The lewd noises that fill the room, the way he watches your face contort in pleasure with lust- filled jade eyes, has your thighs tightening around his head. He has to use both his calloused hands to splay your trembling thighs open.

Not long after, your release is crashing over you like a tidal wave, the sounds you let out are almost pornographic as you stare into Dean’s dilated pupils. “Dean!” His name comes out in a high pitched moan as you push him away from your spasming sex.

Your chest is heaving as Dean takes off his boxers, once they’re discarded he’s kissing you like a man starved, the taste of you on his tongue. You become a tangled mess of lips and limbs, moving until you’re in the middle of the bed, Dean hovering over you once again.

You both watch as Dean grab’s himself by his thick base, guiding the slightly curved cock between your folds to cover himself in the slick there, his pink, tip bumping into your throbbing clit every so often.

Dean drops to his forearms, the aroma of gun powder overtaking your senses as he cages you in. You grip Dean’s broad shoulder when he pushes into you, your moan stolen by his kiss swollen lips as your cunt flutters around his cock.

You pant as he rocks into you, trying to get a grip on yourself as your legs curled around his waist, you’d never tell Dean but you’ve never felt so full in your life.

“You’re squeezing me so tight.” Dean’s words are a warm whisper against your cheek. You’re only able to moan in response, too enthralled by the feel of him rutting into you, the way his ringed fingers softly grasp your throat.

Time feels endless, you’re unable to focus on anything besides Dean’s heavy breathing and the squelch your cunt makes when he pistons into you. You’re unsure how much has passed when he pulls out of you with a grunt. You don’t resist him when he flips you onto your stomach, maneuvering himself so his knees are on either side of you.

You can feel the leaking tip of Dean’s cock prodding at your entrance as he takes a handful of your plump ass, massaging the fat there. “Gonna fill you up,” he says breathlessly and your skin heats up at the thought, your cunt clenching around nothing. Your toes curl and your eyes screw shut as he pushes back into your contracting walls.

The new position allowed Dean’s cock to press into your cervix with every roll of his hips, dragging across spongy spots that left you crying out and gripping the sheets. “Sound so pretty,” Dean rasps before dipping down to kiss the perspiring skin of your shoulder blades and back, his satiny lips causing a shudder down your spine.

His hands move from the bed to your ass as he sits back up, spreading your cheeks to pound deeper into you. The knot in your stomach is tightening when Dean’s hand shoves itself between you and the bed. He easily finds your pebbled clit and circles the bundle of nerves, your mouth dropping open like a fish out of water. His hips falter as his fingers press harder, “Cum for me, sweetheart.”

You see stars when your release hits you, going still as your cunt clenched around Dean’s cock. You can feel his hips stutter but they don’t stop as he chases his release, the grip on your hip is almost painful as he spills into you, milking himself with your convulsing walls.

Rain drums against your roof as you bundle under the covers and away from the cold, Dean’s t shirt did nothing to stop it. Your eyes follow him as he throws the bath cloth he used to clean you both up in your dirty clothes hamper. Dean’s made himself comfortable in your fuzzy robe, his cheeks are still rosy as he walks to the unoccupied side of the bed before slipping under the covers , “I need a cigarette after that.” You can’t help but laugh.

The way Dean’s arms slip around your waist feels natural and you find yourself mimicking him without a second thought. He places a kiss on your forehead before yawning out a “I love you,” tears prick your eyes as mumble the words back to him.

[happy74827]

Forced to Listen

[Dean Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Dean hated it when you hunted him down for advice, and he also hated that you knew exactly how to bait him into listening.

WC: 1082

Category: Fluff, Ranter!Reader, Mentions of Cheating, Sam being absolutely useless (iconic).

Can you believe that it’s been TWO WHOLE YEARS since I last wrote of him?? I’m so angry at myself 😭😭

『••✎••』

Dean could sense what was coming when he watched you stomp towards him with nothing but a small bottle of beer. The look on your face was one he had come to recognize over the years.

It was the one that said that you were about to coerce him into listening to your woes, and he had no other choice but to do it. The heat outside was unbearable, the kind that made Dean strip off his flannel and ditch the leather jacket, leaving him in his sweat-covered shirt.

But as he stood under the hood of the Impala, trying to get her to start, that bottle of beer was calling his name. The promise of the cool, carbonated drink sliding down his throat, relieving him from the dryness that had settled in his mouth, was something he desperately craved. And you knew that. That's why you were headed straight for him.

"Hey, Dean," you said innocently, the small bottle of beer dangling from your hand.

Dean sighed, his gloved hands pausing as he glanced up at you. He really wasn’t in the mood to listen to you whine about what was going on in your life, but that bottle of beer was too tempting to pass up. It was his favorite brand, too.

Goddamn it, you really were a temptress.

"Two minutes,” he grunted out, holding his hand out for the beer. "I'll give you two minutes."

You grinned, placing the bottle of beer in his open hand. In a matter of seconds, half the liquid was gone, and you were waiting impatiently for him to give you the sign to begin.

After another second, a sigh of content slipped from his mouth, and he nodded, signaling you to start.

You didn’t waste any time. "Do you think I'm a bitch?"

"I think you're a pain in my ass," Dean retorted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. It didn’t make much difference since his hand was already covered in dirt and grease, but it made him feel a little better. "Don’t tell me you came over here just to ask me that?"

"No, I'm serious, Dean," you insisted. "Do you actually think I'm a bitch?"

You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.

So, he just raised his eyebrows, silently telling you to go on while he took another sip of his beer.

"Dating's hard, Dean," you started, and he already felt a groan coming on. He did not want to have this conversation. "I just don't get it. Why am I not good enough for them? Why do I keep getting cheated on?"

You were pacing around the car as you spoke, and Dean kept his eyes on the beer. As you went on about everything that was bothering you, the more he regretted his decision to drink that damn thing.

"Am I not attractive? Am I not smart enough? What is it, Dean?" You looked at him, hoping for an answer. But when you realized he wasn't paying that much attention to what you were saying, you let out a scoff. "Great, so I'm not even good enough for you to listen to me? God, Dean, you are such a douche."

Dean rolled his eyes and finally looked up at you, the annoyance clearly visible. "Can I get back to fixing up my baby, now?"

"Would you date me?" You asked, suddenly, a hint of desperation in your voice. "Am I worth dating?"

God, you were killing him. He’d rather get heatstroke than continue this conversation, and he was sure Sammy would agree on his behalf.

He could actually see his baby brother from where he stood. He was a few yards away, sitting in the shade. A book in his hand, but his eyes were on the two of you.

Was he…? Oh hell no.

He was laughing.

Sammy was having a good time watching him squirm under your gaze, doing absolutely nothing despite avoiding the work Bobby needed help with.

Oh, was Dean pissed off. He’d get his payback soon, hopefully. It would be whenever he actually gets away from you and fixes up his car. Baby always comes first.

"I mean, c'mon, Dean," you pressed on. "Just give me some advice. You were with so many women, and they were all beautiful and perfect, so what's wrong with me?"

You were pouting, and Dean felt like throwing his beer bottle on the ground and stomping on it. This was the worst two minutes of his life.

"There’s nothing wrong with you,” he finally said, looking you in the eye. "You could be a pain in the ass, but unfortunately, I’m apparently the only one who has to deal with it, so... yeah. You're fine."

"Fine? I'm fine?"

"Yup," Dean replied. He turned back to the Impala, taking the last swig of his beer and tossing the empty bottle into your hands. "Thanks for the beer. Is that all?”

"I just feel… I don't know. I feel like I'm not good enough, ya know?" You said a sad look on your face. "Like there's something wrong with me. Something that's making everyone leave me."

"Listen," Dean started. He looked at you again, but all of his annoyance was gone. The two minutes were definitely up; he could quite literally kick you out of sight, but with the look you had on your face, he just couldn’t do it.

So, despite Sam’s utter lack of help, he was going to do his best to try to make you feel better.

"It's not you, alright?" He assured. "There's nothing wrong with you. If a guy can't see that, then he doesn't deserve you, okay? Trust me, you will have no problem finding someone else."

The corners of your lips twitched, turning into a small smile. "Yeah?"

Dean nodded, giving you a smirk. "If you want, I could always give out the ole hunter's special with your past one. Bobby could use a new rug for his living room."

A loud snort slipped past your mouth, and Dean was satisfied.

"Okay, Winchester," you said. "This is my sign to get the hell out of here."

And so you did, but before you could get even slightly close to the house, he called out to you.

"Oh, and by the way," he said, a small smile forming on his face. If you thought it was going to be wholesome, then you were sorely mistaken.

"Next time you come to me to talk about your feelings, at least have a damn pie."

[vaguesxrrow]

hii! i was wondering if i could request a Dean Winchester x reader with an established relationship, and i had this prompt in my head [could possibly be used as future inspo's for you fics too if you'd like :>]

basically, the relationship between them is pretty new, like only a month or two new, and reader has claustrophobia, but never told him or Sam.

and for a case, they have to go into an elevator, which is fine, and reader seems to do a good job at pretending it doesnt freak them out that they're in a convined space (elevator is pretty tiny, even for elevator standarts)

but then it suddenly stays still, and gets stuck bc of electrical issues.

so now they're stuck in an elevator for who knows how long, and reader tries their best to stay calm, but Dean knows better and now that the elevator is staying still he notices the microexpressions, the panic, the fear.

and its just super fluffy with him helping reader deal with it untill the elevator is back on track

thanks! and have a great day!

i lovee all your requests sm, especially bc they challenge me to write new things <33 i rlly like how this turned out so i hope u do to !

dean winchester / claustrophobic!reader

a/n: i have no personal experience with claustrophobia but i researched it as much as i could. however sorry if it still sounds unrealistic !

cws: panic attacks, claustrophobia

wc: 785

tags: gender neutral reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, humour

"can we even fit in there?" dean asked dubiously, clearly unimpressed at the elevator that stood before you. "i mean, this has gotta be a health hazard, man, cause what is this?" he banged the doors as he stepped inside.

"it's fine, dean, stop being dramatic." you rolled your eyes, trying to fight the wave of panic (or was that vomit?) rising up inside you.

not letting yourself think about it any further, you stepped in after dean. at first, you thought it was just your claustrophobia whispering how this elevator looked like a death trap. but then your (wonderful, by the way) boyfriend dean had pointed it out himself, and wasn't that just awesome?

you weren't irritated at him, but at the situation itself. you and dean had only been dating for a month, and definitely hadn't reached the 'divulge your deepest fears and secrets to each other' stage.

you could tell dean about your claustrophobia now, but what else was there to do? the stairs in this building had been destroyed by the vampires you knew nested on the top floor.

in conclusion, the elevator was the only way.

determined, you punched the button to the 17th floor. this was fine.

dean prattled on about the job. something about 4 vampires, killing 3 residents until the others had to evacuate...

suddenly, the elevator groaned to a stop, on the 10th floor. you hit the buttons again. god, it had been going so well.

"what happened?" you asked. the lights began to flicker. "is there a ghost here, too?"

both of you scanned the area as best as you could, having to shuffle around awkwardly to look at the whole area.

"nah," dean finally said. "probably just electrical issues."

you sighed. "it's gonna be humiliating calling sam to rescue us."

"tell me about it." dean rolled his eyes, even as he dialed his brother's number. "yeah, sammy, [name] and i got into a bit of a situation... no, dumbass, we're not dying-"

you forced a laugh at the boy's banter, even as the walls seemed to be closing in on you. breathe in and out, you chanted internally.

"-if you could just come get us..." dean glanced at you, pausing in surprise for a second. "hey, sammy, i gotta go, just get here as quick as you can, would ya?" he hung up, tucking his phone back into his pocket. you were too focused on keeping your emotions in check to notice dean had become alerted to your subtle panic, and was now giving you his full attention.

"you okay, [name]?" he asked.

you forced a teasing grin. "fine, just wishing i had some fresh air to get away from your stink."

"that's a smooth evasion if i've ever heard one, but it ain't gonna work on me, hot stuff." he wiped away a miniscule bead of sweat from your forehead. "literally."

you closed your eyes. he had clocked you - no point in keeping up the act now, even if it was embarrassing.

"can i touch you?"

you nodded. he put an arm around your shoulder, his other hand lightly grasping yours. he guided it to his chest where his heart was. "you feel my heartbeat?"

you murmured an affirmation.

"alright, it quickened a bit there, but that's the effect you have on me." he winked. "how fast is it? does it match the.. what was it, bpm, of any song?"

you shook your head at him in confusion. "what?"

"answer the question, [name]." he rolled his eyes, flushing slightly.

you furrowed your brow as you thought. "wanted dead or alive, bon jovi?"

he smirked. "awh, that's awesome. now you get to bear witness to my rendition of it."

that alone was so unexpected it startled a laugh out of you. "excuse me?"

he began swaying, jostling you in the process. "you heard me. i'm a cowboy, on a steel horse i riiide." he spun around, although it was more of an awkward twirl. "i'm wantedddd..." he held out both hands to you, tugging you close when you took them. "dead or aliiiveeee!"

you snorted loudly at his attempt to hold the last note, and yelped in surprise when the elevator lurched back into movement. dean's hug tightened, steadying you.

"i must be one hell of a singer if that was all it took to get the elevator sorted," he remarked, looking hilariously proud of himself.

"that's one way to put it." your previous panic and embarrassment had dissipated, leaving only gratitude for your boyfriend. "thanks."

he kissed you briefly. "no problem. but can you imagine the look on sammy's face when he gets here and we don't need help anymore? ha, imagine that!"

[impala-dreamer]

His Eyes In The Mirror

~Just a little roughness between lovers...~

Dean x Reader

NSFW Drabble ~ It's just porn.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Dean’s fingers wrapped loosely around your throat and the world around you seemed to melt into a foggy mess of shapeless color. There was only the grin on his lips and the reflection of his mossy green eyes in the mirror as he took you from behind.

His fingers tensed and you held your breath. Your jaw dropped as he squeezed and your heart pounded like a jackhammer in your chest.

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “You look so fucking perfect like this.”

His hips cracked against your flesh and your eyes rolled back into your skull. The pressure of his body against yours, the thick, throbbing heat of his cock buried deep inside your cunt made everything else fade away. The cheap motel room vanished; the rough bedspread softened beneath your hands and knees. The lamplight dimmed, the ugly wallpaper blurred.

Dean thrust hard and you let out a gasp; all thought dissipated into nothingness as he plowed into you.

“Fuck!”

He grinned and let go of your throat, sliding his hand firmly down your spine.

“Feel good?” he asked, right hand joining his left on either side of your hips.

“Oh, fuck yes,” you moaned, barely able to make your lips move as a wave of pleasure shook your body. “So… so good.”

“Gonna wreck this little pussy,” he growled, teeth bared as he slammed in again.

Every thrust was like a jolt to that sweet spot inside and your muscles were tight and aching. His blunt nails dug into your flesh and you grit your teeth as pleasure washed upward from his touch.

“Want that?” His grip tightened. “Want me to mess you up? Ruin you?”

“Please…”

Dean sucked in a slick breath through his teeth and slammed into you, grinding your hips back against him as he settled deep inside. Your body trembled and you dropped your face into the mattress, arms weak and hardly able to hold you up much longer.

“Oh no.” His tone was as rough as the fingers that tangled in your hair, crudely yanking your head back. “You’re gonna watch…” Your face lifted, eyes widened as the pain spread over your scalp. “Every…” Green eyes glowed with unearthly lust, sending a shiver through you as you stared into the mirror. “Single…” His body slammed into yours and your pleasure spiked. “Thrust.”

Without warning, you came, throbbing on his thick cock and spilling down your thighs, soaking the sheets.

Dean grinned and quickened his pace, enjoying the tug of your body over him. “That’s it,” he grit, “just like that…”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lunaroserites @lyarr24 @nancymcl @nix-rose @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05  

[fxckingjo]

ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀꜱ ʜᴄꜱ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ.)

→ in which you are dating Dean Winchester & are Sam’s best friend

⋄ Sam likes to steal The New York Times crosswords whenever he gets a chance, snatching them off diner counters or pocketing old copies at the gas station. While Dean drives, you pass them back and forth and smear different pen inks on the page.

⋄ You keep travel scrabble handy, and on nights when you can’t sleep, you and Sam hang out at the small motel kitchen tables and play scrabble until the sun comes up.

⋄ Sam notices your feelings for Dean long before anyone else does. He’s who you confess every secret to, and he teases you about it relentlessly.

⋄ When Sam finds you and Dean kissing in the backseat of the Impala, he claps and says “finally!” ⋄ When you and Dean get married in Vegas, Sam gives you away at the altar. He’s got tears in his eyes, but blames allergies. ⋄ Sometimes, on the really quiet nights when he’s driving the backroads and you and Dean are fast asleep, curled into each other, his thoughts get loud. And maybe for a minute (he’d never admit it) he wonders what life would be like if he’d gotten to you first.

[my-proof-is-you]

But God, at what cost?

Imagine: Dean helping you get through your cardio workout

A/N: Literally thought of this when I was at the gym trying to get through a workout. Pretended Dean was cheering me on…is that weird? Ha.

You were pretty sure almost no one hated running more than you.

You were a bigger person. You always had been. Plus sized, if you will. You were very strong, though. When you hunted, you held your own. 

You didn’t hate your body, either. You weren’t skinny like some of your friends were in high school. You knew none of them could do what you could on hunts, though.

Dean liked your curves, too. He always said he admired your strength and the man damn near worshipped your body in bed. 

But you knew your weakness: cardio. 

It wasn’t very often you had to run for your life. You, Sam and Dean made a great hunting team, so there was rarely a need to run away. 

When you did, though, you lagged behind. That meant that Dean lagged behind, too. He would never leave you to fend for yourself. You didn’t like it. You didn’t want him in danger any more than he wanted you to be.

So that was why you were trying to get better at running even though it was the bane of your existence. You’d been spending time in the bunker gym, using the treadmill Sam had bought for when the weather outside wasn’t conducive to his runs.

You didn’t really want Dean to know what you were doing. It was your own problem, and you wanted to fix it on your own. 

You’d run a few times on your own on the treadmill, and hated every second of it. It put you in a bad mood for the rest of the day, and your boyfriend had definitely noticed. 

You were once again trying to get a run in on the treadmill before the brothers got back from their supply run. Unfortunately, you didn’t time it right.

“Y-Y/N?” Dean asked, entering the gym. He had a shocked look on his face. 

“What?” You huffed, annoyed. It wasn’t his fault, but you couldn’t hide how much you hated what you were doing.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, coming to stand next to the treadmill with his arms crossed over his chest. 

You rolled your eyes. “Can’t a person run without getting asked a million questions?”

“A person, yes. You…no. Sweetheart, you hate running,” he said with a smile and a raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah—well— hate—putting you—in danger—more,” you said while panting.

Dean reached over, pulling the cord that stops the treadmill. 

“Hey!” You exclaimed, slowing to a walk before the belt stopped completely. 

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked. “What danger?”

“I’m slow, Dean,” you said, finally regaining your breath. “I know I am. And I don’t want to be the reason you stay behind and get killed by a monster!”

“First of all, that’s not going to happen. And B, you are one of the best hunters I know. I really think you’re underestimating yourself.”

You sighed. “Regardless, Dean, I could be better, and I want to be.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he studied your face. “This has nothing to do with looks, right? Cause, sweetheart, you know I think you’re perfect the way you are.”

You smiled, despite your exhaustion. “I know that, De. And I promise, it’s not about that. I know I’m hot,” you said with a wink. 

Dean bit his lip, sending a little thrill through to your core. 

“I just want to improve is all,” you said with a shrug. 

“Well, sweetheart, you know how I feel about running, too. I hate it maybe more than you do. But if this is something you want, I will help you,” Dean said, reaching out to squeeze your hand. 

You weren’t sure how he meant to help you, but going it alone wasn’t working. You’d take any help offered at this point.

He watched your face as you tried to understand what he’d do, and he gestured for you to step back on the treadmill. You turned it back on and began jogging. 

After a minute or so, you started to get out of breath and wanted desperately to stop. You looked at Dean, who nodded his head in the direction the treadmill was facing to tell you to keep looking forward. 

“You got this, sweetheart,” he began. He wasn’t yelling it, just speaking with conviction at his normal volume. 

“I’ve seen you go through literal Hell, Y/N. This is nothing. You are so strong.”

His words gave you some confidence. It was nice to hear, especially over the voice in your head that was telling you to quit. 

You went another ten minutes with Dean’s words of encouragement spurring you on before your legs started really aching.

“It—hurts—De—” you panted.

“Just a little more, Y/N/N. And when you’re done, I’m gonna take you to the shower…get you nice and clean,” he said, his voice turning sultry.

“Hm?” You asked, suddenly distracted from your pain. 

“That’s right, baby. Then I’m gonna massage all your sore muscles.”

You felt even more of a blush rising to your cheeks.

“And tomorrow, when you’re all rested, we’re gonna do some cardio together.”

“You—hate—running,” you said, breathless for more than one reason.

“I’m not talking about running, sweetheart.”

You hit your goal of two miles then, and nearly leapt off the treadmill before the belt even stopped. 

“Let’s hit the showers,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the hall. 

Dean followed, chuckling. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Forevers:

@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​  @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @cumuluscranium

Dean/Jensen:

@harleycao

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Vivace

Chapter Twenty Five

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Bobby, Tiny, Lee, Kevin, Annie, Pamela, Sam, faceless fans and support staff

Word Count: 2900

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, jealousy, grief, musical backstory and hope

A/N: The band played on.

Series Masterlist

You held your breath as Bobby gathered the band backstage. Two dozen roadies, stage crew, and security stilled as he looked past the boys and Pam to their support staff, only Charlie and her team were missing, already in place in the booth. You shivered and waited. Jody’s voice echoed behind the bend thanking the crowd and promising a great show from Phantom Traveler to come. Andy slinked around and continued to snap pictures, despite the glare it earned him anytime Bobby caught the lens pointed toward him. The ragtag group buzzed with excitement and you silently prayed that it would go off without a hitch. 

Finally, Bobby began to speak, “I know a lot of you are nervous about tonight, ‘bout this tour— hell about this band. But it means a lot that y’all signed on for another round of nonsense with these idjits. It means you believe in them, that you’ve got faith they can pull together and get it done. Well, I’m here to tell you it’s not a time to worry, because ain't no other band that can do what these guys do. It’s a time to celebrate. Let’s get out there and fuckin’ rock’n’roll.”

Lee hooted and people cheered, you couldn’t help but clap and shriek along. Then everyone crowded in for the circle of hands and chanted “Phaaaaaantom TRAV-ler!”

The band and crew maneuvered in the dark, letting the interim instrumentals keep the crowd distracted as they set up. You scurried back to where you had left Bela in the wings, under Tiny’s care.

“Everything alright?” Bela asked out of the side of her mouth, shifting in place as she tried to clock Dean amongst the many moving shapes.

“Aces,” you replied, bouncing on the balls of your feet as the crowd started to clap with an increasing beat.

You spotted Sam and Kevin’s silhouettes high five and then Lee strummed a teaser chord. Walkie talkies crackled around you as the all clear was called. You kept an earpiece in, but without much left for you to do, you turned it to the lowest setting besides mute. 

It was go time. 

“Bring ‘em up, Charlie,” Bobby prompted over the line and the Forum erupted. 

Lights and wavelengths of sound shot off in every direction and Phantom Traveler took off.

You wouldn’t have stopped yourself from screaming bloody murder even if you had remembered you were directly beside your very posh best friend and her security detail. 

It was happening. They made it back home.

“Good evening Inglewood!” Dean greeted, pointedly accurate. Plus you could tell he was grinning from where you stood, from just the sway of his head and a glimpse of his profile.

There was no other chit chat, no grand speech thanking them for coming out, it was just the band, the music, and the audience.

They started off with ‘Woman in White’, their first major single and something high energy enough to get people out of their seats. Then on to the B side of their first EP, which was a cult favorite called ‘Playthings’ that featured something affectionately referred to as ‘the beat off’ between Sam and Pam.

But at the time it was written, it was played by Sam and Cas.

Pam did it better.

It was like someone was racing up the stairs or against time itself as the two rhythm setting musicians fought for dominance. The crowd ate it up. And you could tell they both were already dripping sweat by the time the song ended and they tuned it back and finally jumped into their last fateful album.

‘Scarecrow’ was haunted and foreboding, reminiscent of early 90s metal that you knew Dean adored. It was also Cas’ favorite track off that entire album. And Kevin killed the bridge as the keyboard turned into an ancient organ chasing the crows away with the dawn. Charlie even added a cackling Vincent Price at the end that couldn’t be topped.

“How’s everybody doing tonight?!” Lee took the words out of Dean’s mouth, which earned him a kick in the ass. They were having a blast up there and it was infectious.

The crowd roared.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Dean bellowed. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’d like to bring somebody out for this next number.”

Shrill ruckus pierced the air, they knew what was coming.

“She’s our very dear friend and we just so happened to convince her to tag along with us this tour. You know her, you love her, please— give a very warm welcome to the incomparable Ms. Annie Hawkins!”

Everyone screamed and stomped, watching as the spotlight followed Annie from the farside of the stage towards the standing mics centerstage.

“Oh, she looks amazing,” Bela spoke for the first time since you’d gotten back. And she wasn’t wrong.

“The girls probably had a blast with her in their dressing room,” you tacked on thoughtfully.

“Her top though,” Bela continued. “I want it.”

You chuckled at Bela’s priorities and quickly got sucked back into what was happening barely thirty feet away.

“You sure you’re ready over there?” Annie teased as Dean adjusted his mic after rushing to set down his guitar.

The crowd laughed in unison.

“I’m ready, do you think they’re ready?” Dean asked coyly, gesturing to the crowd.

All around you camera screens glowed and flashed burst through the darkened arena. Concert security lined the stage and guarded the partitioned areas for the crew and band to navigate the area. Until that moment you really hadn’t been able to pull any single response from the cacophony. You hadn’t been trying anyway. But when Annie goaded Dean a cluster of women in the pit got your attention.

“And here I thought you were out here warming them up for me?” Annie teased.

The crowd loved it, but one catty comment made it feel like you and Bela were right there up on stage with them. “Bela needs to get her man before that cougar gets too cozy up there.”

They eyed your little corner below the VIP suspiciously. You missed whatever Dean said in response, instead watching the women glare and Bela adamantly ignore them in equal measure.

But then the song began. A slow and slinking start reminiscent of Springsteen’s Fire. Which you clocked the first time you heard it, but that was just the intro. The lyrics started up as a quick conversation, a compromise even and then they were harmonizing into the chorus. 

The band hadn’t done many duets, even with such talented singers in their ranks. It wasn’t their style. But this song felt like it had always existed, it was timeless and familiar and really fucking catchy. Annie beamed at Dean when he slipped closer on stage and they belted out the final lines.

It made you feel like they were performing only for you, for their people. It was honest and intimate, but this wasn’t rehearsal or karaoke and the audience would not be forgotten.

Everyone cheered. Even the judgy bitches that kept watching Bela at your side.

Dean hugged Annie and made sure she got the reception she deserved, egging the crowd on and bowing in homage to her talent.

She rolled her eyes, did a snarky curtsy and waved her way back off stage.

“You guys seem to be digging that one. Maybe we could play some more new stuff for y’all tonight?” Lee asked. “I mean— the album isn’t out yet.”

Naturally, the crowd shouted and begged for more.

Bela turned to whisper to you. “They’re not gonna get in trouble for this are they?”

You shook your head. “They’ve got permission to do a few songs until the album is actually out and then they’ll change up the set list to cover more of the new stuff.”

“Got it.”

“Yeah, bootlegs always exist, but this way they’re building excitement but not giving away the farm.”

“Lee!” Dean admonished playfully. 

“What?!” Lee spat back, smirking.

“Sam— tell him.”

Sam shook his head, always stoic on stage.

Dean kept up the ruse. “I don’t know if we should. Pamela?”

Pamela thudded the bass drum and hit the crash. 

“Okay! Pammy’s in— Kevo?” Lee kept the momentum going.

And without any warning or time for Kevin to actually respond, they burst into the opening of 'Prophet and Loss'. 

“I would kill for a drink—- is there somebody we could send to concessions?” Bela asked midsong. And you looked around, wondering if any of the staff could actually leave their posts without getting in trouble. 

You suddenly felt like a bad host. “We’ll get you a box for Vegas. I know this isn’t as fun as it sounds standing for two hours straight.”

“Y/N, I’m fine. Promise.”

“Okay, well I’ll go after the next song. You want anything, Tiny?” you asked your silent companion.

“All good, boss.” He replied and straightened his stance, clasping his hands in front of him.

Kevin silenced the space with the burst of chords at the beginning of his solo, showcasing what Julliard training could do and how rock’n’roll could still be classy as hell. The key changed, turning the mood broken and lamenting as they stumbled into the bridge where Dean pelted out about losing Cas without so much detail.

 Dean let the note hang in the air. “'Prophet and Loss', everybody.”

Whistles filled the air, keeping the mood somber but with enough reception to know that small offering was gratefully accepted.

“Thanks— uh, I, we really appreciate being here tonight and being able to share some of the new album with everybody. But we know you wanna hear the stuff you know, too. So we’re gonna hop back to it and have a kick ass night. How’s that sound?” Dean checked in.

The crowd cheered.

“Did you hear something?” Dean asked Lee jokingly.

The crowd got louder.

“I don’t know if they’re up for much more,” Lee taunted back.

You rolled your eyes and turned to Bela. “Okay, I’ll be back, text me if you think of anything besides drinks.”

The crowd continued to take the bait, howling behind you as you made your way out of the off limit areas and up a side stairway towards the general admission cavern-like hallway. For the first time it felt like all day, you exhaled. Your pass flapped against your chest as you strutted quickly towards the concession area, bypassing the VIP lounge because you didn’t want to get distracted by Madison or any of the mid-level suits that might be milling around.

You could have stolen something from the dressing room, but that wouldn’t have taken nearly as long and you needed some time off of Bela duty tonight. Which made you feel guilty as hell. She was your best friend! She didn’t do anything wrong. And yet you were incredibly frustrated with even the thought of her.

So you waited in line, ordered two extremely overpriced and depressingly weak cocktails, and put them on your expense card. 

The thing about regret is that it isn’t a one time experience. There might have been a moment in the process of you contriving this scenario for Dean’s redemption where you second or third guessed yourself. But the biting sting of seeing him play happy with Bela online and even in person had come at you in waves.

Regret was bearable if it meant it worked, if Dean could have some peace.

But this wasn’t just regret, it was petulance and jealousy and injustice.

Because Bobby had asked all the way back in the beginning, why couldn’t it have been you playing arm candy? And the fact that people could see what you had tried so hard to bury and ignore plain as day, well, it made you feel incredibly small and even more pathetic.

There was no reason for you to be the one at Dean’s side. But damn did you want to be.

And somehow you had managed to keep that from one of the most important people in your life. So it wasn’t just that Bela was getting a part of Dean that you’d never have. Or parts. You shuttered at the thought of where his mouth had been. It was that your best friend hadn’t even clocked the elephant in the room.

Like she didn’t even know you at all.

Or maybe that was on you too. Maybe you hadn’t been honest with yourself until it was too late. How could you put that blame on her too?

You slammed your drink and got back in line for a replacement, not wanting to return with only Bela’s cup like some kind of maid. You could hear the crowd singing along with Lee on ‘A Reaper’s Offering’, a bluesy cut from their second studio album. 

You probably had another two songs before you’d miss anything else new. But you also knew Bela was waiting and the longer the show went on, the more drunk and ballsy random fans could get. You couldn’t leave her with the forever nonplussed Tiny for backup. You smiled at the woman working the bar cart apologetically and ordered another husk of a cocktail.

After another stream of applause, the opening bars of ‘Abandon All Hope’ started and you knew you had to book it. This was Jo’s song, you couldn’t miss it. You never left Dean to get through this one alone. Huffing down the service steps with two drinks in hand in heels was something that you managed only from practice, but you made it in time for the first chorus.

“Oh aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Bela murmured to her drink before sipping it and wincing. “It’ll do. Took you long enough,” she teased and winked, hip checking you as you struggled to get your breathing under control as you mouthed along with Dean’s words.

“Trapped by your side with no exit, we had to let you go—”

Bela quickly picked up on your shift in mood and reeled in the playfulness, for which you gave her a grateful glance before turning back to try and lock eyes with Dean on stage.

“Defending that night while trying to give comfort, we should have known—”

“To abandon all hope,” you sang out, the last lyric rising up to hover in the air. 

Dean turned and glanced in your direction and then looked again once he finally saw you. He nodded and tapped his heart and you returned the gesture, you both kept her safe as you could now. He blew a kiss to the ceiling and bowed.

The crowd continued to echo around you, suffocating yet as distant as thunder. 

“Alrighty, folks, we’re gonna take a short break for Sammy to find another shirt and we’ll get you one last sneak peak,” Dean explained. “Kevin? Think you and Pam can keep ‘em busy for me?”

“Aye-aye,” Kevin said and saluted, out of range of his mic stand.

Pam started in with the count and Kevin peeled in down from the upper registers, like he was sliding in from Heaven and crashing a party. The instrumental interlude was a mesmerizing feat of jumping genres and killing time while showcasing just what all each of them could do. But you weren’t even paying attention. Dean made a beeline for the back of the stage and he wound around security until he could find you. 

He gripped the ball of your shoulder and leaned in. “I didn’t see you until the end— had me worried, Trouble!”

He had to talk over the crowd, his back firmly towards the nearest wedge of fans.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!”

He stared at you, sweaty and down to a single layer, earpiece still in his left ear. 

“You’re killing it up there,” Bela said, making you both stop and blink. Dean grinned and pulled her into a hug, a boyfriend hug, arms tight around her waist so her arms can loop around his neck. She even kicked a leg back for balance. 

God was she good.

“You keep an eye on her, okay? She’s gonna need tissues for the next one,” Dean warned playfully down his nose at Bela about you.

She rolled her eyes. “You are a menace on the emotional, aren’t you?”

“All in a day’s work,” Dean shrugged and set her back on her own two feet.

The crackle of a nearby walkie made Dean look around for whoever was sent to find him. “Sam’s looking for you,” an unimpressed lackey of Benny’s pointed out from ten feet away.

“Yeah, I bet he is. Alright, well, see you ladies later— Tiny,” Dean stepped back nodding. He soon disappeared only to hop up on the wing of the stage, grabbing an acoustic and sliding it on.

After the chaos of the crowd dissipated from Pamela’s and Kevin’s antics, Dean and Sam walked on stage and sat down on a pair of stools that had been left out for them. They didn’t look at each other or even the crowd and you knew in that moment that Dean hadn’t been lying. You weren’t gonna survive the next song live with a dry eye.

‘Brothers Keeper’ nearly took down the entire venue. 

Cell phones and lighters blazed in the dark, enraptured space as Dean and Sam sang about each other, about family, and about forgiveness.

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

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

Chapter 27: Polyphony

[samsexualdeancurious]

Two More Sleeps

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Prompt: Christmas fluff

Written for a Demon Patron's request

---

Dean’s not sure how “I don’t really do Christmas” turned into a massive tree in the library, lights and garlands all over the shelves, and Y/N wrapping presents on one of the tables. Sam has been banished from the library for the time being because “Christmas presents are supposed to be a surprise, Samuel!” but Dean is allowed in because his presents are already under the tree.

He has to admit, her excitement over picking the just-right gift for everyone is adorable and a bit infectious. Sam and Dean haven’t really worried about Christmas since that last one before Dean went to Hell but Y/N dragged Dean into shopping with her and now he’s sitting across from her at the table, carefully taping the ends of a wrapped gift for his brother. On top of that, he’s… excited for Sam to open these?

He catches Y/N’s eye across the table and she grins, setting aside a perfectly wrapped gift and Dean feels a moment of shame at his own wrapping skills but then she reaches over to take his finished gift and place it under the tree with her own.

“Two more sleeps ‘til Christmas,” she proclaims.

“Sleeps?” Dean echoes with a laugh as he rounds the table to loop his arms around her from behind.

She gasps in mock horror. “We’re watching The Muppet Christmas Carol tomorrow because it is a crime that you don’t get that reference.”

He kisses her temple. “Of course.”

Maybe he’s warming up to Christmas.

[viking-goat-420]

Heya guys! I know it's been a minute but I am still here! Things have been super crazy. Anyway I do have a few fics coming out soon. I could really use some feedback.

Title: I Would Die Without You!

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Reader

Summary: Dean leaves to say yes to Michael but you track him down. Things are revealed and smut insudes

You knew something bad was happening when you woke up to find only Sam in the room making you sit up and your heart started to race when you saw the letter and a jewelry box on the table with your name on it. You stand and rush to the table to grab the letter and open it and your eyes become teary when you start to read.

“What's wrong?” You jump and look at Sam as tears stream down your face and you look down at the jewelry box. With shaky hands you pick it up and open it, finding a silver necklace with the letter D with a devil's trap inside the silver D.

“He is going to say yes to Michael! I gotta get to him and stop him! I'll get Dean and you get things ready at Bobby's when I'm ready I'll call Cas” you say in a rush as you gather your things in a hurry. Sam looks at you.

“Are you sure about going alone? I mean Dean isn't thinking real clearly” he says making you stop in your tracks and look over at him.

“I know Dean, Sam he would never hurt me besides this is something I need to do alone” you tell him giving him a small smile and he sighs before nodding his head.

“Call if anything happens” he says as you walk out of the door, you had no idea how long it would take to get to him. You didn't get to think too hard about this before the sound of wings and your world span. When you open your eyes you're staring at a hotel door.

Taking a moment you look around trying to see who brought you here but you didn't see anyone but you did see the impala making you look back at the door before you and your stomach dropped as you walked to the door and knocked.

“Hi Dean* you say softly as he swings open the door and his body tensed as you pushed your way past him into the room and you close your eyes and the door clicks closed.

“(Y/n) you can't change my-* his words stop as you shake your head stopping him. You turn around trying to find the words to say as your body is filled with hurt and anger.

“You left without actually saying goodbye dean! After everything you just up and leave!” You yell and dean sets his jaw,

“I left the letter and the necklace!” he yells back making you shake your head in disbelief at his words.

“Are you serious! Did you even think that maybe I had something to say Dean! After everything did you not think I wouldn't have wanted to? I don't know, maybe I have something to say!” you yell and Dean sighs softly before he walks closer to you and you look up at him.

“That's the reason I left sweetheart. If there was anyone who could change my mind it would be you and I can't let you. I need to do this” he says roughly and your heart starts to speed up.

“Damnit Dean! I would die without you! You are the reason I haven't given up Dean! I'm in love with you I always have been dean-” you yell feeling your anger leave you, everything slows down and your world spins when you feel his lips on yours and you kiss him back just as deeply your fingers run through his hair at the nap of his neck and he groans and pulls back.

“I have wanted you for so long sweetheart i just wish i knew sooner” he says his lips barely touching yours and your eyes meet his.

“Stay with me Dean, we can find another way” you beg, Dean sighs softly before he groans and kisses you deeply as his hands travel down your body where he stops and grabs each asscheek in his hand making you moan as he lifts you up making you wrap your legs around him. You look down at Dean as he walks over to the bed and sits making you straddled him. You moan as you feel how hard he was.

“fuck sweetheart the things I'm gonna do to you” he growls In your ear making you moan. You grab his hair bringing his mouth to yours. Your hips grind down on his jean covered cock. Dean rips your shirt off roughly as you pull him over his head. Before you know it you are on your back with Dean over you.

“Oh!” You moan as Dean kisses and bites down on your body leaving marks as he reaches for your pants buttons. Dean looks up at you from between your legs as he pulls them down leaving you naked under him.

“Fuck baby girl you smell so fucking good. I have wanted to taste you for so long” he groans making you bite your lip.

“Fuck” you moan as your fingers tug his hair as he sucks on your clit and Dean wastes no time diving in. Your body fires to life with each lick and suck he made.

“You taste so fucking good” he growls and your hips grind up and you tug his hair.

“Fuck Dean” you moan making him groan as he slowly slides a finger in your dripping cunt without a warning you cum hard on his tongue. Dean groans as your hands slack in his hair and he starts working his way up your body.

You lean up and kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue making you moan, your hands run down his chest to his jeans where you undo them and he works them off making you both moan at the feeling of each other's warm skin.

“Are you sure?” He says hotely in your neck before leaving a mark. You moan and Dean pulls back and looks down at you.

“Please dean, it's always been you” you say to him and he groans. You bite your lip at the feeling of his one hand traveling up your body to lightly wrap around your throat.

“I wanna see the face you make while I make you mine” he growls hotely before he slowly enters you. You moan at the slight burn as he enters you.

“More dean please” you beg and he pulls out just to slam in with a force you were not expecting. Your nails claw at his back as he drilled into you.

“Fuck baby you fit me so good my good girl” he growls as he fucks you into the bed and your toes curl at his words and you become even wetter. “Oh you like that? You like being my good girl” he groans as you tighten around him.

“Fuck yes! I'm your good girl! Oh right there!” You cry out your nails dragging down his back to his ass where they dig in. Dean works on that spot over again till you're so close.

“Be a good girl and soak my cock” he says huskily as his thumb rubs your clit and you cum hard his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you come undone on his cock. Dean grunts as you spasm around him. As you finally come down you realize Dean had not cum yet.

“Dean?” Your voice is no louder than a whisper but he could hear the question in your voice and he leans down and kisses you deeply and he bites your lip.

“I'm nowhere near done with you baby, first I wanna see how many times I can make you cum for me before I fill you full” he says huskily and he chuckles darkly as you tighten around him.

“I'm your good girl” you grin up at him.

[scftblush]

sooo… been awhile lol

just wanted to say i finally wrote a little one shot for the first time in years and i posted it on ao3 the other day if anyone is interested. it’s a dean/reader fluff and…. yeah. idk. wrote it for myself, we’ll see if i write more.

but yeah! hope you all are doing good and ur healthy ♡

[lunarsaturn88]

You Need to Tell The Truth- Dean Winchester

Pairing: None just pining for Dean X Reader

Imagine Sam trying to convince Dean to confess his feelings to you.

@thefandomimagine

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Dean going to Hell

Words: 580

Sam looked back in the backseat of the Impala as Dean drove down the road seeing you sound asleep in the backseat curled up underneath your jacket covering your eyes from the sunshine that shined into the car. Sam turned his attention to his older brother who was busy jamming out to the music that he had going. “Dean.” 

Dean let out a hum before looking towards his brother. “What is it, Sammy?” He questioned rather confused about why Sam would be speaking up now when there was a chance that you could be woken up at any time. 

“Don’t you think it is time that you told her?” 

Dean blinked a few times in confusion as his hands gripped the wheel tightly in his hands. “Told her who what?” Dean questioned his words coming out rather rushed. 

Sam looked over at his brother with his brows slightly raised. “You know… your feelings?”

“What about my feelings Sammy?” 

“You should tell Y/N how you really feel about her.” 

Dean’s knuckles turned white as he drove. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing from his little brother. He was trying to get him to admit his true feelings towards you, and he wasn’t willing to do that. “I don’t have feelings for Y/N.” 

“Dean…” Sam let out a breath shaking his head lightly. “I’ve seen how you look at her. Don’t you think it is time to not beat around the bush with her?” 

Dean groaned. “Sammy we’re not talking about this right now.” 

“You’re afraid that she’ll wake up?” Sam mused his lips quirking slightly as he looked at his brother. “Come on it’s not bad admitting your feelings towards someone.”

“In our line of work, it is.” Dean snapped slightly as he looked at Sam out of the corner of his eyes. “I don’t want to admit anything to her… not when it could cause damage. Besides…” 

“Dean you’re going to hell soon. You need to tell her something before it is too late.” 

“Sammy it’s already too late to tell Y/N how I feel alright… I don’t want her to have the heartache of knowing that she’ll never be able to return the feelings that I have for her.” 

“It can’t be that bad. You don’t think she feels the same?” 

“Sammy, please just stop…” 

Sam held up his hands slightly knowing that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with his brother. He knew that you needed to know the truth of the feelings that Dean had for you, but was he willing to have you go through the heartache of losing him? He wasn’t so sure of that. But he knew that deep down you cared about Dean as much as Dean cared about you.

In the backseat, you held your breath clutching your jacket in your hands. You hadn’t meant to listen in on their conversation, but you had woken up when Dean hissed at his brother worrying about waking you up from your slumber. Your heart clenched in your chest. Dean had feelings for you and he didn’t want to admit them. You could understand because he was going to hell, but what felt worse was he didn’t think that you had the same feelings for him. The thing was you did. You loved Dean and you wanted to tell him that, but you didn’t want him to feel worse than what he already felt with selling his soul to save Sam.

@faegal04  @oneshoeshort  @crazysocklovingfangirl   @sofreddie @goldenolaf25    @sandlee44 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @hipporose76   @coralturtlenut @kdfrqqg @cassieraider @fandommaniacx  @kittycat-cas @collection-of-my-weirdnes @princessofthefandomrealm @mrssamfuckingwinchester @mrswhozeewhatsis  @saxxxology

[vaguesxrrow]

HOLY SHIT YOU WRITE FOR SUPERNATURAL NOW TOO??? JUST MARRY ME ALREADY <33

*cough cough*

Anyway, could I please request a Dean Winchester x afab! Reader (established relationship) where it's just a super fluffy smut where they're just waking up and everything is going nice and slow and sweet?

I just think that'd be wonderful

Love you lots and take your time!!

OF COURSEE ML wedding when ?? 💍 and what flavour cake do you want 🤔 anywayy here u go 😋

dean winchester / reader - morning sex

a/n: ive only written smut one (1) time before in my life and it was not romantic, so i hope this doesnt sound clunky

wc: 476

tags: afab reader (sex specific terms used), smut, riding, coming on command (kinda) unprotected sex (only because i forgot - feel free to imagine dean magically has a condom on!)

an arm thrown across your torso was what eased you out of sleep. you opened your eyes just a fraction, breathing in the scent of your boyfriend in a deep inhale.

you rolled over to snuggle closer to dean, who blinked sleepily at you, a lovesick smile on his face.

"morning, beautiful." he kissed your forehead.

when he moved to give you a peck on the lips, you wrinkled your nose. "ew, morning breath."

dean raised his eyebrow. "oh, i'll show you morning breath," he said as he wrapped his arns around you and buried his head in your neck, exhaling into your collarbone.

you squirmed, ticklish. "that doesnt even make sense!" you protested. you wriggled some more, and dean's breath hitched. it was then you noticed his morning arousal pressed against your back. oh.

smirking, you turned over to face him. "hi," you whispered as you put your hand to his dick, where it was straining against the thin fabric of his sleep shorts.

he huffed. "hi."

"is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" you quipped. this time, you allowed dean to kiss you. his hands came up to your hips, teasing the hem of your pajama bottoms in a silent question. you nodded into the kiss, and pulled away to take off your shirt while he made quick work of your shorts. you reciprocated, working to free dean from his clothes. his shirt got caught around his head and you both laughed.

"finally," he said as he yanked off the piece of clothing, tossing it dramatically behind him without looking to see where it would land.

your laugh was cut off by a breathy moan as dean's calloused hand met the insides of your thighs, teasing the edges of your folds. the other supported your ass, squeezing gently. you relaxed in his hold.

"dean." you grinded against his dick. "fuck me."

with a moan, he gripped your hips with both hands. gently, he lowered you down onto his cock, his thumb rubbing your clit in circular motions.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, slowly kissing his neck as you rode him.

"fuck, baby," he whispered, hips moving in tandem with yours. his right hand was still pleasuring your clit, and you could feel yourself nearing your climax.

"you close?" you asked.

dean shuddered at your breath against his bare skin. "mm," he groaned in affirmation.

you pressed closer to him and kept moving, chasing your orgasm.

"come for me, [name]," dean whispered.

both of you came with soft moans, your hips slowly coming to a halt as you rode out the wave of pleasure.

"that's one hell of a way to start our morning," he said. "you good?"

you laughed. "yes, but don't think this means you're off the hook for your horrible morning breath."

[impala-dreamer]

Lumière

A Supernatural Story

~ Dean rises with the sun and takes some time to appreciate the way the light glides over his lover...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

1,657 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Fluffy romance with some oral and fucking ;)

A/N: This was written for my @jacklesversebingo square "Early Morning Sex" Hope you enjoy <3

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Waking up to sunlight was strange. Typically, his bed was deep inside the Bunker with no  windows, or hidden in a cheap motel room behind black-out curtains.

He closed his eyes tighter as the streaks of sun hit his lashes and he sighed at the warmth.

A deep breath. A delicious stretch.

Dean rolled over to find Y/N still asleep; her beautiful face slack, hair disheveled and messy against the crisp white sheet. The pillow was dented beneath her head and her right hand was thrown above like she’d been fighting something deadly before passing out. Even in a fancy hotel, surrounded by comfort, Y/N was still fighting in her sleep.

He’d gotten used to it over the few months that they’d been sharing a bed. Sure, he generally woke up with bruises, and once what felt like a broken rib, but it was worth it to fall asleep to the sound of her breathing and wake up to her raspy sleep-ruined voice.

He didn’t want to hear it just yet, however, so he set himself up on his elbow and leaned over her to get a better look. He wanted to memorize everything about her. Count every strand of hair that curled over her ear, catalog every different line on her face; give a name to every freckle and beauty mark.

Dean smiled softly and lifted his hand to her cheek. With the back of his knuckles, he traced the beam of light on her skin and Y/N’s eyes fluttered. She woke slowly, knowing that she was safe, feeling the warmth of his touch and the loving pulse of his aura as it mixed with hers.

“Mornin’.”

She opened her eyes and smiled, biting her lip shyly as she found him staring down at her.

“Morning.” She cleared her throat. “What’re you doin’?”

He felt her cheeks heat up with a blush and he licked his lips, still staring. “Just watching you.”

“And bein’ creepy.”

She went to swat his hand away, but Dean flipped the script and grabbed her wrist. He pinned it above her head, lightly pressing her hand back into the pillow. She opened her mouth to protest, but he closed his lips around hers, stealing her breath.

“Well, hello, cowboy,” she moaned, looking up at him with wide eyes that still held the glaze of sleep. “Someone woke up on the right side of the bed.”

“Always the right side,” he whispered, nudging her cheek with the tip of his nose, “with you.”

“Such a charmer…”

With a stretch, Y/N wrapped her free hand around the wide breadth of his shoulders and tugged him closer. He crushed her down into the mattress, solid and whole and warm as the sun peeking around the edges of the window.

He licked into her mouth and she clawed lightly at the nape of his neck. The smooth tanned skin there was prickled by tiny hairs- he’d need a haircut soon. She ran her nails up a bit, gave his scalp a gentle scratch which made his kiss deepen. He moaned, deep and gruff, and left her lips to travel across her jaw and down.

He dropped a trail of kisses like breadcrumbs along her collarbone, stopped for a nibble on her pulse. He could feel her heartbeat beneath his lips and the thumb still locked around her wrist and he rolled his hips into hers, wanting to feel it speed up.

A tiny roar rumbled in the back of her throat when his erection pushed against the soft of her belly and her pulse quickened. Dean let out a little laugh and licked away the ghost of a dent that his teeth had made.

“You’re gonna drive me crazy,” she said with a sigh.

Dean sat up a bit and gave her a billion dollar smile and a slightly double-eyed wink. “I mean… That is the plan.”

Y/N dug her teeth into her bottom lip and Dean grew hungrier as she let it spill back out like a cherry stained pillow.

“Fuck, I want you so bad…”

She set her palm against his shadowed cheek. “You’ve got me, Dean.” With a quick twist, her other hand was free and she snuck it down between their bodies. He gaped as her fingers brushed his cock. “So what are you gonna do with me?”

He hummed darkly. “I’m gonna eat you alive.”

She tongued his lips. “Yeah?”

His mouth hung open for a second and his pupils dilated, eclipsing the brilliant green. “Oh, yeah.”

She slid the circle of her fingers down his shaft. “Like to see you try.”

Dean grinned and gave her a final, sloppy kiss before shifting over her and slinking down her body. He tugged the sheet away and kissed each nipple, spending a few more seconds on the left as was his routine. Y/N laid back, adjusting herself and spreading her thighs in anticipation.

“So gorgeous,” he murmured, still awestruck by her beauty in the soft morning light.

Y/N bucked her hips slowly. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Winchester.”

He chuckled against her lower belly. “Oh, I am aware.”

Before she could pull in the next breath, Dean was inside of her. He drove his hot tongue into her pussy and nuzzled his nose against her clit. She gasped with budding pleasure as he licked deep into her.

“Goddamn!”

She shuddered and he pulled back an inch, blowing a warm breath up and down her slit.

“You alright up there?” Green eyes sparked with flirtatious deviousness.

Y/N groaned and wiggled her hips. “Get back to work and I will be.”

Dean smacked his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

He pushed into her again, this time with two thick fingers. His nails scratched her lips slightly but it didn’t matter one bit once his mouth sealed around her clit. He swirled his tongue, pushed and sucked, thrust his fingers at a steadily increasing pace. Before long, she was panting and arching her hips off the bed, trying to get him deeper inside.

Sunrise became daylight and the streaks of gold lightened to pale yellow.

Y/N grabbed his rocketfin ears and tugged, trying to set herself free from his unrelenting lips.

“Dean-”

He shook his head, which only gave a new sensation and invoked an intense set of contractions in her cunt. He felt her body tighten and curled his fingers upwards.

“Dean- stop-”

She writhed against the pillow, held her breath, clawed at the sheet below.

“Dean!”

He came up for air, cheeks slick with her wetness, lips plumper than usual. “Huh?” He looked devastated for a moment, like a child who’d dropped his ice cream cone. “No good?”

Y/N shook her head and sat up a bit, looking down at him. “Too good.”

His brows furrowed. “Um-”

She reached for him. “Wanna come on your cock.”

His brow smoothed, his eyes fluttered. “Fuck.”

Sitting up, she grabbed his face and dragging him to her. She kissed his lips as she scooted closer, spreading herself as wide as she could.

Dean growled like an animal and tipped her back. He grabbed at her legs and fit himself between, resting her knees aside his trim waist.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”

The light danced across her face as she squirmed, needing him inside. “Please…”

He reached a hand between them and tapped his cock against her clit. She bit back a shriek of pleasure and whined.

“Please!”

He smirked and dragged the tip through her slit, teasing but not giving her enough.

“Dean… God, please!”

It was taking all of his will not to slam into her, but he wanted the moment to last. He wanted to watch her face change from frustration to bliss as he pushed inside.

“Baby,” she whispered desperately, “please fuck me… I need you so bad…”

Rocking his hips, Dean nudged the tip of his cock at her dripping hole, bobbing in and out for a few pulses. When her features had twisted into utter pained frustration, he showed mercy and jabbed his cock into her. She sucked in a deep breath and melted, mind and body, to his touch.

“There’s my girl,” he sang, slowly pulling out and slamming back in. He ratcheted up the pace, holding his breath as her tightness hugged every bit of his length. “Fuck, baby…”

Y/N locked her hands around his biceps, cutting crescents into his arms with her sharp nails. He hissed at the feeling and thrust a little harder. She grunted in time with him and as the orgasm bloomed, her voice grew higher and higher.

“Give it to me,” he urged, staring deep into her eyes. The light was shining fully over her face now and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “Come on, baby. Come with me.”

Another thrust and Dean lost it, shooting into her as the pleasure broke. He arched his back and curled inward, his jaw slack and his eyes mere slits.

Y/N felt the pressure as he emptied into her and she came soon after, milking the rest of his energy out with her powerful convulsions.

“Holy fuck, babe!”

She rolled onto her side, close to panting when he finally pulled away. Dean collapsed onto her pillow. Somehow, they’d switched sides during the malay, but neither gave a damn.

Y/N laid her hand on his chest and watched him come down. He closed his eyes and she marveled at the spray of thick lashes illuminated by the sunshine. The light tripped over a hundred freckles on his nose, on every tiny crease by his eyes, on each perfect imperfection.

He was beautiful.

Y/N pressed a kiss to his cheek and Dean turned into it, catching her lips.

“Good morning,” he said again, smiling gently, sated and exhausted.

Y/N laughed softly and snuggled into his side. “Sure fucking is.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!) @alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lunaroserites @lyarr24 @nancymcl @nix-rose @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @rosecentury @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05   

[fxckingjo]

𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣' 𝙢𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨

title from 'moon song' by phoebe bridgers

tags; angst, pre-established relationship. hurt/no comfort? angst.

You know everything there is to know about Dean Winchester.

You know that he says he likes his coffee black, but he'll drink most of your 'girly frou-frou drink' if he winds up holding the cup. He sleeps on his stomach, one hand under the pillow around the handle of his pistol, the other around your waist or your hip or, on the bad nights, right between your breasts so he can feel your heartbeat steady and listen to your breath. He sings along to the cassette tapes off key on purpose, but when he thinks he's alone and sings to himself, he's got the voice of an angel. Just like his mom, which is why John never wanted him to sing along. He likes his red and black flannel the most, and that's why you sew up the holes and wash it first at the laundromat so it's always clean for him. He hates diet soda, but always picks up a pack of diet cokes for you on every beer run, and he keeps a stash of tampons in Baby's trunk so you never run out. His teeth are straight, save for one slight curve to one of his incisors, shifted from a punch he took in a bar brawl. You know all of his scars, every tattoo, every part of him like the back of your hand.

Or at least, you did.

Now you look at him, and he's a stranger to you.

You aren't sure when it started. Maybe it was the moment Lucifer's cage snapped shut and the earth stitched itself together, green grass and azure sky and everything as it had always been. Except Sam was gone.

You'd talked about it. You planned for it. Hell, before Sam let him in, he begged you to promise to take care of Dean. Give him the apple pie life and love him through it. You swore.

Two weeks have passed. Two weeks of nothing but silence. You and Dean went back to Bobby's, and he set out to fix imaginary problems under Baby's hood, without ever saying a word to you. Every night, he comes to bed and lays beside you, staring at the ceiling in the dark, breathing, but never saying a word. When he kisses you, if he kisses you, it's a chaste, closed-mouth, bare acknowledgement.

Then, he stops coming to bed.

You find him asleep in the den on the couch, or in Baby behind the front seat. He never sleeps for longer than a couple of hours, and when he wakes up, he refuses to meet your eyes.

Bobby says he needs time. All you've got is time, but it's not getting any better. You're living with a stranger who can't even say your name without a wince.

It's a Thursday, when it happens.

Just after two in the morning, you're awoken by the roar of an engine as the Impala peels out of the scrapyard. As you rush downstairs, barefoot, still dressed for bed in only Dean's red and black flannel, you find he's already gone.

There's a note on the kitchen table in his heavy-handed scrawl, scratched on a Singer Salvage memo pad. The unfinished drafts are creased in the paper by a heavy line of pen. The floor falls out from under you.

I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. I love you.

Don't wait up for me. I ain't comin back. -D

[my-proof-is-you]

Now That We Don’t Talk - Part 2

Summary: When you started dating Jensen Ackles, things were damn near perfect. You were so compatible, and you fit into his life seamlessly. After Supernatural ended, though, Jensen got a new job. Pretty soon, Jensen also got a new life. And you no longer fit in it.

Jensen x You

Inspired by the song Now That We Don’t Talk by Taylor Swift

Masterlist

Present - Jensen

It had been two weeks since he’d last talked to you. Two weeks since you’d walked out the door, leaving Jensen confused and heartbroken. Two weeks since you’d told him you were going, and Jensen let you leave.

He felt the anxiety bubbling up, threatening to overtake his senses. He was on his way back from a party for the season wrap of The Boys.

Going to parties with other people in the industry was just part of his job. He had to do it frequently, but it didn’t change the panic he felt after the events about how he’d come off or what sort of impressions he’d made. 

You used to help him with that.

Not only did he know he made a better impression on strangers with you by his side, but you were the only one who could calm him down after a party. You knew exactly what to say and brought him out of his mind. He thought back to one of the first parties he’d brought you to.

Jensen slid into the car that had been waiting to pick you up. As soon as he settled and the car was moving, he let out a deep sigh, placing his head in his hands. 

“Jay.”

He didn’t move. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, and his breathing was becoming a little shallow. 

“Jay, look at me,” you said. You’d placed a hand on his thigh from your seat next to him. He finally lifted his head, glad he had when he saw the soft smile gracing your face. 

“What’s going on?” You asked, a small crinkle forming between your brows. “It went great,” you said, moving your hand to interlace your fingers with his.

“I just—I feel like no one liked me. My jokes fell flat, I was awkward—the only time things felt good was when I was talking to you or Jared.” He stared down at your interlocked hands.

“That’s not true, Jens. Everyone there loved you.”

“How do you know?” He asked incredulously.

“Because I do,” you said with a pointed look. “You’re hard on yourself. You focus on your flaws. But when you’re on the outside,” you paused, placing a gentle finger under his chin to lift it, causing him to look at you, “it’s obvious. You are amazing, and I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Jensen smiled and leaned into your hand that had slipped to his cheek. His fears faded, and he leaned toward you, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You gave a small, contented sigh, and Jensen melted even more. 

He let the memory of your words echo in his head. It was in no way the same as having you with him. But he tried to remember that he was critical of himself, and that he had probably been fine at the party. After all, he was a bigger name now. People stared when he walked in—moved to the side to let him through as he approached his fellow actors. 

He chuckled dryly to himself. He could almost see you rolling your eyes at the awed expressions of the partygoers. You’d never bought into acting like celebrities were royalty. It was one of the things that had attracted him to you in the first place. 

He sucked in a sharp breath as realization hit him.

It was one of the things that drove you away, too. 

You - Now

“I’m sorry, Gen,” you said into your phone. You really were sorry. You wanted nothing more than to see your closest girlfriend. Hell, you even wanted to see Jared. In the time you and Jensen had dated you had gotten close to the entire Padalecki family. 

“It’s not like we’re taking sides, Y/N. We miss you,” she said with a sigh. 

“It’s not about that,” you replied as you paced your apartment. “It’s just…he’s your family, Gen. He’s always going to be in your lives. And I just can’t—“ You stopped, taking a deep breath. “I just can’t be around him right now.”

“I get it, Y/N/N, I do. Let’s plan a date for just you and me, though, okay? And soon. I need my best friend.”

You felt guilty for not being around more and there for Gen. But you remembered what it was like when you were with Jensen. The four of you did so much together: dinners, long weekends at the lake…and just because you and Jensen weren’t together anymore didn’t mean those events stopped. It just meant you couldn’t bring yourself to be a part of them knowing he would be there.

You’d promised to get together with her the following week before your call ended. You laid down on your bed, and exhausted from a long day. You really did love your job running a small boutique in downtown Austin, even if it was tiring. Jensen had introduced you to the owner at a party before you’d moved to Austin and started living with him. He knew you’d loved all things both vintage and handmade, and figured you would hit it off with Kendra. 

Kendra had wanted to take more time to travel, and thankfully had really liked you. So she allowed you to run the day-to-day of the store, and you loved it. 

You decided to scroll through social media before going to sleep. Of course the first thing to pop up on your feed was a picture of Jensen. 

Pain stabbed at you when you saw his face. He looked handsome as ever, though you noticed he’d continued growing his hair out. You had always liked it a little shorter, like how he kept it for Supernatural. 

Guess it doesn’t matter what I think now, anyway. 

The headline of the article under the picture was something about Jensen and some pro golfer he’d spent time on the course with. You rolled your eyes. 

One of his new “idols,” I’m sure. 

Try as you might to not dwell on it, you couldn’t help but be annoyed. Jensen never used to care about big names or other celebrities. You’d missed that attitude toward the end of your relationship. It felt like he was always schmoozing someone at every event he dragged you to. 

You locked your phone and put it face down, sighing. 

It was so strange to feel the way you did. You were so angry with Jensen. And while you were pissed, it didn’t mean you didn’t miss him. It was the main reason you couldn’t talk to him. You’d just want to get back together with him. 

You couldn’t, though. He’d changed too much. He wasn’t the same man you’d fallen for. 

You cried as you fell asleep. You cried because you missed him. You cried because you knew you shouldn’t miss him. You cried for the memory of who Jensen was before. 

You - Two Years Ago

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You were luckily finishing up your shift at the bar and pulled it out, surprised when you saw a number you didn’t recognize. 

Okay, 1000 miles is officially too far. 

You smiled, surprised to be hearing from the actor already. 

Y: What makes you say that? Didn’t enjoy the views on the drive home?

J: It was beautiful. I was a little distracted, though. 

You pulled out your keys before responding, having already made the short walk back to your apartment. 

Y: Oh?

J: Yeah. Had trouble getting a certain pair or Y/E/C eyes out of my head. 

J: Still can’t. 

You felt yourself blushing. You liked to play it cool with the opposite sex—be mysterious, even. But you couldn’t deny that the man made you feel things. 

Y: Pretty interesting statement coming from a man who has millions of fans fawning over his eye color. 

J: Eh, they like the eyes of a character I play. It’s not like they know me. 

Y: And you think you know me?

J: I know enough to wish I knew more. 

Y: And you think the way to do that is through texting?

J: Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. I’ll get on a plane right now. 

You sent him an eye-rolling emoji. While you appreciated the gesture, you wouldn’t want him to actually do that. You wouldn’t want anyone to spend that kind of money on you, actor or not. 

Y: How about we play 20 questions before boarding any planes, hot shot. 

J: Works for me :)

You and Jensen spent the better part of the evening texting back and forth, asking each other questions as silly as what your favorite colors were to as serious as what your childhoods were like. 

J: You know, all this getting-to-know-you does is make me want to see you again even more.

Y: Well, hot shot, if you can make it happen without spending crazy amounts of money, I’d be glad to see you again.

J: Hmm…challenge accepted.

Y: No one is challenging you!

J: It’s my own little challenge, sweetheart. ;) goodnight.

Y: Goodnight, Jensen. 

Forevers:

@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​  @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573

Dean/Jensen:

@harleycao 

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Intro

Chapter One

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader

Word Count: 1375

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, assumed unrequited feelings, mild drug use, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Banner courtesy of @cafekitsune

You woke up overthinking. Like continuing a conversation with yourself from your dreams, the thoughts steamrolled you into consciousness. The band was in the studio for at least another week and you had to make sure the anticipation continued to build. You had a call scheduled at nine with the record label, Bobby and some other folks who you knew by name but not by face or voice.

It was going to be a long day.

It had already been a long year and the comeback after the last tour’s fallout had felt like your sole duty. They were still solid, still ready to rock-n-roll, you just had to make sure the press and the fans knew it. You grabbed your phone off your bedside table and got to work without actually getting vertical. You checked your email, the usual rotation of social media and then finally your text messages.

Sam had sent you a link to the podcast he had been talking about the last time you’d been over to his and Dean’s place for movies, which was probably two weeks too late to still be relevant, but you added it to your library anyway. Charlie had gone on a rant about a failed side quest on her latest D&D campaign and then started planning a fantasy getaway for after the tour that wasn’t even completely scheduled yet. You didn’t reply, because you needed more caffeine in your system to keep up with her.

Then there were some random complaints about Ash and Kevin from Dean. Amongst all that there was his usual checking in and an obnoxious picture showcasing the absurd size of Ash’s bong. You groaned because Dean’s eyes in the picture were glassy and amused, but also so, so distracting. His little stoned smile always did things to you.

At least he was having fun while he was laying down tracks.

You looked your fill and then went on to the next notification on your phone. Dean and his band, Phantom Traveler, might be your employers, but they were still your friends and fawning all over the man that a good chunk of the Western world did wasn’t going to get you anywhere.

Not in this lifetime.

Your alarm buzzed, breaking the quiet of your bedroom and the illusion of a lack of responsibility. You groaned and threw off your covers. Now or never, you told yourself, and got up to start your day.

“And with the losses from last time, we need something more than just your word that we are going to make up the difference,” Crowley tacked on at the end of his spiel.

Bobby, who apparently was stuck on the 405, looked like he was going to cuss him out at any moment and you couldn’t blame him. The Zoom call had gone about as well as you had anticipated and it wasn’t over. You had enough experience to keep your face neutral, however Bobby had neither the fucks to give or the interest in maintaining civility.

“How about three platinum albums over the past twelve years?!”

Every corporate stooge winced at Bobby’s indignation, except Crowley who seemed to be delighted about it somehow. 

“We understand that Mr. Singer—- we just want our ducks in a row. Now if we can get Dean on board with some more one-on-one interviews and positive exposure. We think we can hit our pre-sale targets to ensure a longer touring schedule,” Zachariah Adler smarmed on.

“And what would that prove?” Bobby asked, protective of his boys as always.

“That you have your dog on a leash,” Crowley butt in.

“More like workhorse the way you folks are talking about him,” Bobby muttered, though you still heard him over the sound of traffic.

You had to say something. “If— we get Dean to agree, and you get your extended tour. We want more flexibility on the next album. It’s the final one in the contract and if you want Phantom Traveler to remain the face of Crossroads it would be mutually beneficial to give them some room to work.”

“That’s not really your stipulation to make Ms. Y/L/N,” Dick Roman pointed out.

Your face burned with the reprimand, but you held your chin high.

“Like hell it ain't. Anything Y/N says, I say too,” Bobby barked.

Crowley looked bored at that point. And you really didn’t want to butt in or add to your embarrassment. But no one was saying anything.

“Does that work for everyone then?” You looked at these corporate stooges in the digital eye and fought for the band, for Dean. Despite having very little in the idea of the how of it all.

Zachariah spoke first, because of course he did. “If Mr. Winchester were to agree and we see an improvement in image by the end of the year— I think that could definitely be arranged.”

Bobby huffed, but remained silent. 

You watched Crowley’s eyes dance between the other record company execs and the intensity of his mischievousness grew. “I’d love to see how you handle that— get back to me when you have something solid and we’ll be in touch.”

“That works for us,” you replied firmly, not giving into his apparent doubts on your abilities. You were a nepo-hire, everyone there knew it. But it didn’t mean you weren’t very good at your job.

“Alright— I’ve got a recording session to get to. If that’s everything—” Bobby trailed off and watched as the trio from the label became even more affronted.

“I’d like a solid date for follow up,” Dick tossed out, in a clear final challenge, but everyone knew the meeting was over.

“Recording is underway, but I’d say we’d be able to touch base by the middle of December,” you added, pretending to check the calendar.

“Stellar, you see to that,” Dick replied.

“Thank you, thank you all,” you added.

“Good talk.” Dick closed his window. You waited in the open meeting as Crowley and Zachariah said their goodbyes, watching Bobby as he looked at the ceiling of his car and ended the call for good.

“Alright then,” you muttered as you closed Zoom and tried to come to grips with what you had just promised. What you had asked for, completely unprompted.

You looked at your laptop and decided you needed to step away and clear your head. You grabbed your phone off your desk and your earbuds, heading to the corner of your office and your stationary bike. Because if anything screamed escaping to a mountain trail ride, it was this moment and the month ahead of you.

You set your usual course and tapped onto one of your workout playlists, letting the music wash over you as you pedaled toward the warm up hills. Dean wasn’t going to go along with this easily, everyone knew that. But he had come so far over the last year and you hoped that included an openness to what was best for the band, even if it meant swallowing some of his pride.

Despite what he said on the call, you knew you had to get Bobby on board. You just had to have something to sell him, a hook. Something he wouldn’t think of as a threat to Dean or the band as a whole. Something he wouldn’t want to poke too hard, just because he could.

Bobby was a naturally curious old codger, but one thing that was always guaranteed to make him wash his hands of a situation was anybody’s love life. He had no fucks to give about who was fucking who. Not all of Lee and Pam’s ongoing drama, not Sam’s summer-long tryst with the little brunette from the Yellow Eyes label, not even when Cas hooked up with the reporter for Rolling Stone mid-interview. 

Okay. That you could work with.

Somebody who could increase public opinion and be down to be Dean’s arm candy. And suddenly an evil idea crossed your mind, something so wrong and so right that you lost your footing and the bike safety locked on you as you said a very dejected ‘fuck’ out loud to your empty apartment.

You had your answer, now you just had to make it happen.

Tagging: @deans-spinster-witch @mrswhozeewhatsis @cosicas-cuquis @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @suckitands33

Chapter Two: Measure