#Dean drabble

[talesmaniac89]

Trick or Treat

Pairing :  Dean x reader

Summary: It's Halloween, and the reader wants a different kind of treat. And she knows exactly where to find it.

Warnings: Hinting at future smut, but nothing explicit in the story. 

Word Count: 977

Y/N = Your Name

A/N: A little something written for my challenge to myself to post or reblog something Halloween related every day up to Halloween!

Opening your door just a sliver you looked out at the empty hallway while holding your breath. Though you knew very well that it would be deserted. You had, after all, planned out the whole night. Including sending Sammy away after promising him you’d help archive the hell out of the Men of Letters library if he made himself scarce for just one night. 

Still, as a hunter, you were nothing if not thorough. And there was, after all, once more Winchester still left in the bunker. The reason for your whole little plan to begin with, your boyfriend; Dean Winchester. 

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you slipped out of your room and into the slightly chilly hallway. Suppressing a shiver, you pulled your long coat closer around your body as you clutched your shoes in your hand and padded barefoot down the hallway towards Dean’s door.

After all, even the smallest sound would echo in the bunker’s hallways. And you didn’t want to ruin the surprise that you’d spent time planning and prepping. 

Your heart was in your throat as you bit back a small smile, listening out for any sounds as you quietly snuck down the hall before coming to a full stop in front of Dean’s room. It was quiet inside, but that didn’t phase you.

You knew he’d be in there. Since you’d promised him a movie date after you “freshened up”. Which meant Dean would be busy going through his movie collection to find the perfect Halloween night movie to cuddle up to. 

Though you had other plans. 

Holding your breath you gently placed your heels on the floor and gingerly stepped into them. Careful not to make a sound as you straightened back up and got your small, mischievous smile under control. Opening your coat, you looked down at your “costume” one last time. Making sure everything was properly in place. 

After all, it was the 31st of October. And no Halloween was complete without some good old fashioned trick or treating. And since you couldn’t really go door to door. You’d decided you deserved a different kinda treat. One with apple green eyes and sweet as sugar kisses. As well as a damned sinfully skillful tongue. 

Biting your lip in anticipation, you reached out and knocked softly on Dean’s bedroom door as you hastily closed your trench coat and played with your hair; making sure it was falling just right. 

Yet, Dean didn’t come to the door as you’d planned. Instead his voice, deep and rich like chocolate, rang out happily oblivious to your plans from the other side of the door. 

“Come on in (Y/N)!” 

Pouting at the still closed door. You straightened your shoulders and ignored his invitation. Choosing instead to knock again. After all, what trick or treater just opened a door and walked in? There was an order to these things.

 “Sweetheart?” From the other side of the door, you could hear the telltale creaking of Dean slipping off of his bed to walk the few steps to the door as confusion stained his voice in a slightly deeper, wary tone. His hunter’s instincts kicking in automatically from the unusual reaction. 

Still, you kept your mouth shut as you waited for the door to open. One hand keeping your jacket closed as you tried, and failed, to keep the small, playful smirk off of your carefully painted lips. 

Knowing Dean, you knew he’d open the door whether or not you replied. 

Sure, he would be slightly on edge and ready to strike when he did due to the lack of answer from you. But he would relax the moment he saw you. After all, you knew your boyfriend of 5 years. And you’d planned out the whole night perfectly. Down to the littlest detail. Any thoughts of fight or flight would fade away as soon as he saw you. 

“(Y/N) what are you…”  Deans started as he opened the door. Only for his words to die out the moment you let your coat slip open and drop to the floor with a soft thud. Showing off the leather and lace nurse-themed lingerie costume you’d bought for the occasion. 

Soft leather straps hugged your curves in all the right places as lace barely covered up the rest of your bodice. Leaving just enough to the imagination to make Dean suck in a sharp breath as he devoured you with his eyes. Want and need burning in forest fire eyes as he let his teeth graze his bottom lip while he took it all in. From the soft swell of your barely contained breasts to the small little details that showed off the theme of the lingerie set/Halloween costume. 

“Trick or treat?” You asked, a small little knowing smirk on your red lips as you raised an eyebrow at your momentarily dumbstruck boyfriend where he was busy finding his voice again. 

“Damn it woman…” Dean finally said breathlessly as he reached out for you, only for you to take a quick step back, out of his reach, with a small victorious laugh. 

“I asked you a question Winchester. Trick or treat?” You repeated, letting your tongue roll against your bottom lip as your hands traveled across the lace patterns you knew Dean longed to explore. Teasing an impatient groan out of him that had you bite back a needy whine of your own. 

Using his lightning fast reflexes, your boyfriend reached out for you. This time catching you by the wrist and pulling you flush against his body as his free hand greedily grabbed at your ass, rolling his hips against you to let you feel exactly what you did to him. 

“Treat. Definitely treat,” Dean growled, before swallowing your small laugh with a hungry kiss and pulling you into his room. 

Dean Winchester Tags: @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @starsandmidnightblue @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun  @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28 @siospins2 @iprobablyshipit91

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @hobby27  @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sea040561 @donnaintx @alwaysdreamingforthebest  @thatmotleygirl @chocolateheart @superfanficnatural @flamencodiva @starryeyeseunbyul @waywardbeanie @supernaturalenchanted @ellewritesfix05 @emoryhemsworth @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @the-lost-wanderer-of-the-night @strangersstranger @tatted-trina6 @jensengirl83 @whatareyousearchingfordean @atc74 @jackandthesoulmates  @gh0stgurl @samsgirl93 @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @dainrumnaheim @440mxs-wife

[lastcallatrockysbar]

This is a couple of days late, but the deanwinchesterweek prompt for Music Moment inspired this little drabble in my head, so I’ll share it anyway 😊 Thanks to @firefly-graphics for the divider!

Dean yawned as he started coffee brewing, standing still for a moment to breathe in the enticing aroma. Eyes closed, he smiled to himself. Usually he was the one bracing himself for the next catastrophe, constantly reminding himself that the few hours or days of peace wouldn’t last. But the last few weeks had finally begun to settle into his bones, his outlook shifting.

When she had come into their lives, things had definitely improved. But now that he had finally admitted his feelings and they had started an actual relationship, he found his mood was downright sunny. He shook his head at himself. “Little Mary freaking Sunshine, that’s what you sound like right now,” he berated himself, but he was still smiling as he took a swallow of coffee and pulled out the makings of breakfast.

As he set the carton of eggs down, he reached for the radio, turning on the classic rock channel, grimacing slightly at the current drone of news. He hitched his sweatpants up a little, turning his head as she walked into the room. She barely had her eyes open, shuffling along in her baggy socks and boxer shorts, along with a stolen henley. (She had insisted to him that it had shrunk in the wash, but he doubted it was true – it looked pretty damn good on her, anyway.)

He stepped up behind her and slid an arm around her waist, bending to kiss the side of her neck as she stood with her face practically buried in her coffee mug. “’Mornin’, babe,” he said softly, and she  leaned back into him. She mumbled her reply, and he moved back to the stove. “You want pancakes, or just bacon and eggs?”

The voice on the radio announced a Bob Seger song, and Dean’s face lit up with a grin as the first notes of Old Time Rock and Roll drifted from the speaker. He reached to turn the volume all the way up, grabbing the whisk in his other hand as the second ‘DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH DUH’ echoed through the kitchen. She whirled to face him, eyes wide as he began to bellow out the words into his whisk-mic. “Just take those old records off the shelf…”

She began to giggle as he danced around, singing at the top of his lungs. He reached for the spatula on the counter and handed it to her, eyebrows raised expectantly, then grabbed her hand and dragged her to the open area of the floor. “Sing with me!”

“I like that old time rock and roll!” Their voices rang through the bunker with complete disregard for the notes, the two of them dancing around each other as they wailed into their makeshift microphones.

By the time they reached the last chorus, Sam was standing in the doorway, head shaking in disbelief as he watched them performing with complete abandon. When she turned to see him there, she struck a pose and threw one arm out, pointing a finger at him as they sang one more round of ‘I like that old time rock and roll!’ Sam couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter as he finally walked into the room, heading for the coffee pot.

The song faded to its end, and Dean hugged her, both of them rosy-cheeked and laughing at their own antics. Dean pulled back with a gasp as the guitar riff to Nazareth’s Hair of the Dog blared forth, and Sam turned to throw them an indulgent smirk as he left the kitchen, moving towards the library where the decibel level was a little more ear-friendly. “Now you’re messin’ with a  - son of a bitch!” followed him down the hall as the two self-appointed rock stars scream-sang into their kitchen utensils.

He sat down at the table, shaking his head with a grin. Dean was happier these days – not quieter, but definitely happier.

Tags for my lovelies:  @saenalife​    @deanscarlett​    @jensensgotyoudean​    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis​    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog​    @geeklibrarian​    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid​     @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan    @mrswhozeewhatsis​    @littlegreenplasticsoldier​    @sleep-silent-angel​    @darcia22​    @winchesterprincessbride​    @ellen-reincarnated1967​    @eyes-of-a-disney-princess​      @deanslittleangel2y5​    @melanie451​        @spectaculacular-sammy​     @bookchic20​    @jodyri​    @selma-jean-blog​           @savingapplepie-eatingthings​    @kittenofdoomage​    @masked-maiden42​    @lean-mean-deanwinchester​    @ericuhlorain​    @undecided-garden    @ceeceewinchester​    @typicalweirdbookworm​          @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit​    @youtoldalie​    @tanithlowisabamf-blog​    @deandoesthingstome​    @jxackles​    @nerdwholikesword​    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic​    @kreweofimp​  @gabavaldman​    @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog​    @darkx143​    @disassociativedogma​    @ioanashalala​    @jencharlan​    @deansthirstblog​     @dorky-and-i-know-it​    @mischief-maker1​    @winchestersandwordprocessors​    @percussiongirl2017​    @bringmesomepie56​   @akshi8278​    @torn-and-frayed​    @sandlee44​   @wingedcatninja​  @evansrogerskitten​   @emoryhemsworth​  @peaceinourtime82​  @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​  @sarcasmqueen74​   @maliburenee      @mrsjenniferwinchester​   @yeehawbitchs​   @emily-winchester​  @hobby27​

[deansbestfriend]

An Autumn Chill.↝ Dean Winchester x Reader.

Pairing : Dean x Reader   Summary : A year has passed since the man you loved met his untimely demise and everything you thought you had moved passed comes back full circle. Warnings: Post Series Finale, m!spoilers! Three hundred and sixty five days. That’s how long it's been since you’ve heard his laugh, seen his smile, felt the warmth of his touch. Dean Winchester left you here three hundred and sixty five days ago without warning. It took half of that time accepting the fact he was gone, and up until now you had began to feel normal again. This dreadful day however, came to set you back into your grief. In remembrance in every time you shared a laugh, shared a kiss, felt his embrace, and countless other memories that in the moment felt so small but now meant the world to you. He taught you so much about yourself, and unbeknownst to him, he quickly became the most important person in your life. The day was spent seeing his face in strangers you passed. Little things reminding you of him. Feeling as if he was right behind you, but in fear of disappointment you would never look over your shoulder. Unable to face the reality, the heart break that he was gone for good. There wouldn't be anymore nights in the impala, the two of you singing your hearts out. There wouldn’t be any more cheesy movie nights, or evenings where the two of you would sit in silence holding one another. Furthermore, you recompiled questions you never got to ask. Cursed yourself over the petty arguments the two of you shared over the years. You thought you had come to terms with that months ago but on this day, a year later, those feelings all swelled into your chest, welling up your eyes, breaking your heart all over again.   The night was spent in his clothes. The clothes you formerly pushed into the back of your closet space. Unable to face them, but today you conquered that fear. Welcoming the faint smell of him that lingered on the fabric. The red flannel fitting you loosely, just like most of his other clothes did. For the first time you built the courage to go through old pictures. Scrolling through the digital memories, and although he didn’t typically like taking pictures, the few you had of him and with him were enough to make you cry. This led you to the message thread, a year ago his last text was sent to you. ‘Be home soon.’ Dean wasn't the best at texting, but the effort was there. Especially when you didn’t tag along for hunts. You found yourself curled up in your bed, laughing quietly at how he roughly explained how hunts were going via text. You even found the time he used ‘lol’ for the first time, it put a smile on your face. Eventually you dragged yourself from beneath the weight of your blankets, just to dance around your bedroom space to a playlist the two of you curated together. Between each song for about an hour you found yourself pausing, the feeling of him being heavy in the room around you.   Had you not known the signs of a ghost being near, you would’ve thought he was there with you. But that wasn’t the case. He was gone for good. Jack was at least kind enough to inform you he had his own heaven custom tailored. You knew Dean was happy and content, even without you being there. Even though it comforted you, it broke you all the same. As the night prepared to end your phone buzzed. It was Sam. The youngest Winchester who had been grieving all the same. You two parted almost a year ago from the bunker and hadn't looked back since. This phone call however, it was needed for the both of you. The two of you spent till sunrise recalling the man that you loved. And for a moment, as the sunrise was on the horizon, the room went cold. You could see your breath, and feel a subtle graze against your hand, a chill dancing against your skin. The moment passed quickly but you knew it was him. It was mere seconds but it meant everything to you.

[justagirlinafandomworld]

Know What You’re Falling For

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Witch!Reader

Word Count: 100

Written for @msmarvelouswinchester​ who was the 10th participant for my Flash Fiction Challenge 3.  This sparked 2 pieces actually, because I love a witch!Reader. One: drama; the other: rom-com. Hope you like it!

Song Prompt: Dark Horse by Katy Perry

Warnings: language

It was his own damned prejudice that got in the way.

Sure, he was handsome and charming; a wise-cracking genius with a talented tongue and hypnotic eyes that could make even the invisible feel seen.

But the moment he learned you were more than just a lady with a knack for the hunt; an interpreter of magics to rival even Sam’s knowledge, an actual witch – oh, suddenly he couldn’t stand the sight of you.

“Good, bad, you’re all the same,” he spat, keeping to the corner of the room.

You returned his ire.

“For fuck’s sake, Dean. You kissed me.”

Supernatural tags:  @hobby27​ @lyarr24​

Dean Winchester tags:  @akshi8278 @foxyjwls007

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester- Little Light

*Credit to myheartofmusic*

Pairing: Dean W. x Wife!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, leaving, spending time away from each other

Summary/Imagine: When Dean has to leave for work, you realize just how much your daughter loves Dean.

Word Count: 992

A/n- @firefly-graphics for awesome dividers, this is being put in the imagine master list.

Main Master List // Dean W.Master List // Imagine Master List

"I don't want to leave the two of you," Dean says as he climbs into the bed with me after putting our four-year-old daughter to bed. I set my novel down on the bedside table. Looking at him over the bridge of my glasses.

"We'll be fine baby," I said, feeling the cold air hit my legs as the sheets settled back down. The frown on Dean's face tells me that my comment isn't going to be enough to calm the never-ending thoughts running through his mind.

"Honey?" He hummed as he crossed his arms over his chest. His head resting against the bed frame. "Please know that we'll be fine." This being the third time I have repeated my phrase in a different way.

"I just..." He tried to say, but he looked lost. The sad look on his face was only making me sadder that he was leaving tomorrow. "Look, Dean, we'll call you every day, and I can have Missy make you all sorts of art," I said trying to show the better side of this situation.

He huffed and opened his dark green eyes for me finally. "You promise?" He asked, a half-cocked smile. "Yes of course baby." The shine in his green eyes started to go away.

"Let's go to sleep now," I suggested taking my glasses off from the bridge of my nose, and setting them on the side table. Looking back at Dean he had already climbed further underneath the sheets.

I clicked the light off and settled next to my husband. I shifted under the sheets until I was comfortable. My head resting on Dean's chest, his arm wrapped around my waist. While our other hand found their way together, linking together our wedding bands hitting each other.

"I love you Y/n." He said raising our linked hands up to his lips and kissing the top of my hand. "I love you too Dean, good night," I said before closing my eyes, and falling into a deep sleep.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of our daughter. Dean and she were sitting up in the bed. I kept my eyes closed for a moment. "Now Missy, you know mommy is a deep sleeper, but she knows when her girl is awake and in her bed," Dean said. I heard Missy giggle before she started to talk. "Dada, we gotta be." She said her small and morning voice was cute. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her tap her finger to her lips imitating something I do with Dean all the time.

"Yes, you're very right baby," Dean said, looking down at me, catching me opening my eyes. "You should see if you can wake up mommy, Missy," Dean suggested. She looked up at her father then quickly down to me. Awaiting the go from him. Dean shook his head. She climbed from Dean's hold, and over to me. Climbing into my lap, from my lap to my chest, and eventually very close to my face. Quietly she whispered into my ear.

"Mommy... you need to wake up. Dada is gonna make me fav.. fav--favorite PANCAKIES" Missy said screaming her favorite breakfast food. I was slow to open my eyes, reaching my hand from under the sheets to grab her sides.

She giggled and squirmed to get away as I began to tickle her. "Dada help me. pease!" Missy said, Dean, smiled and started to tickle me. "Dean don't... don't do that!" My words were interrupted by my giggles. Our daughter started to laugh louder, her green eyes that she got from her father beamed as she all laid in bed together.

By the time Dean had to leave for work, I hadn't even realized that we had spent the entire day just spending time together. Missy was down for her nap when Dean kissed my cheek and went upstairs to take a shower and pack before he left for his trip.

When he came back downstairs. Missy was waking and wondering where Dean had gone. "Where is Dada?" She asked me. "He went to take a bath baby," I said reaching over and grabbing my phone to take a quick picture of her before she clearly woke up.

Her hair was all over the place, but those green eyes reminded me so much of her father. Something that I'll always have even if Dean leaves. "Alrighty" I heard Dean's voice from the staircase. I looked up from Missy. At the sound of Deans' voice, Missy was up and walking towards Dean.

The ping of sadness didn't take long to hit me. Dean was in one of his suits the blue one that contrasts well with his eyes. Missy cocked her head, seeing the bags next to her father's feet. "Dada?" She asked looking up at Dean. I could visible see Dean take a deep breath before picking up our daughter. "Yes, baby?" He said, "are you weave?" Such a smart girl I thought.

"Unfortunately yes, but I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone," Dean said trying to make the welling tears disappear on our daughter's face. "Bu.. But" She tried to say, but the tears took over. I got up from the couch grabbing her from Deans' arms. The tears starting to roll down both of our faces. He kissed my lips and whispered an 'I love you, before pushing his hands through Missy's hair, and kissing her forehead. Grabbing his bags, and his keys.

By the time Dean was in the car and driving away, Missy was full-on crying now, sobbing into my shirt. "I know baby, but Dada will be back before you even know he was gone." For the rest of the time Dean was gone. Missy and I slept in the huge bed. I cradled my four-year-old daughter in my arms, counting the days till Dean came back home to us.

Completed on: 09/04/2021

Posted on: 09/04/2021

Deanie Beanie Tag List: @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @hit-meup69 @doctorlilo @ijustlearnedtolove-beep-bop-boop @fofisstilinski @flamencodiva

[chrisparagon]

Just a Dean W. drabble I wrote about a chick hunter who, for whatever reason, couldn’t join the brother’s on a hunt.

I posted this on my other account for a different character, but I originally wrote it for Dean. Hope you enjoy :)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!reader

Warnings: none

WC: 468

Angst, fluff

Panic rose in your chest at the thought of something horrible happening to him. You scramble after him, “Dean!” You say with urgency in your voice. He turns around, concern on his face. You stopped your movement abruptly. You thought Dean would’ve kept moving for the door, but here he was, inches from your face. Your breath catches and the rest of your sentence goes out the window. You glance down, searching the rubble outside trying to piece back together what else you were going to say. “What’s wrong?” Dean asks softly, his forehead creasing between the brows. You look up and meet his caramel hazel eyes. They were soft, but had a fierce determinism in them, a glint of defiance. Your eyes failed again, glancing at his nose, his stubble. You find his eyes again and the confidence to speak yourself. “Please be careful.” You say lacking depth, lacking meaning, lacking emotion. How could you not fall and cry right there? Dean gives a confident smirk, “When am I not?” He says opening the door and heading out. It hits you that this may be the last time you see him again. Your heart heaves as you rush to the door, “Dean!” You plead again. He pauses on the steps and looks back at you, tawny hair and eyes shimmering in the sun, the color of fall glowing around him. For a moment the golden light extinguishes any demon that had captured a shadow on his face. You capture that picture, cherishing it until death takes you over. Tears brim in your eyes. “I mean it.” You say in a shaky voice. You meant to say more, please come back and please be safe and don’t do something stupid. You didn’t need you. Dean takes the few steps up the stairs, throwing the shotgun into his left hand [CS1] and tucking his right behind your head. He leans down voluntarily, savoring the moment. You catch the warmth of his breath on your lips, a sharp exhale coming from your lips, caught between sobs and stupor. He closes the gap and kisses you firmly, with all the charm he could muster. He had kissed you with passion before, but something about the way we lingered on your lip, even when Sam was calling him, made you think he too felt desperation. He rose from the kiss and brushed your cheek before letting his hand fall. Taking a step back, he looked at you, wishing with all his heart he would come back to you soon. He nods in response to your demand, a knowing look in his eyes, a look of understanding. It was a somber parting, and you now knew that every parting would be this way. You hope the next ones would be few and far between.

[trexrambling]

can I ask for another Touches drabble? Kisses 26 with Dean please?

"giggling while kissing" *for some reason, this one didn’t flow super well for me, but I’m *okay* with the end result

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

“Shhhhhhh, you’re going to wake up Sam!”

I slap my hand over my mouth, trying to control the laughter that’s doing its best to push its way through. Dean steers me through the motel door by my shoulders, helping to stabilize my off-balance footsteps.  

“Dean, did you see the look on their faces-”

“You are whisper shouting right now.”

“-when I freaking-” I slap his shoulder, a snort escaping my nose- “when I emptied off that pitcher and then reached for the next one?” I’m wheezing at this point, knees giving out as I hunch over.

He closes the door and then readjusts his grip on me, my back finding the wall as he holds me upright with his own body. “Pretty sure no one was expecting you to outdrink that guy, me included. But it’s late, so if you could maybe tone it down a little-”

Another giggle slips through alongside a hiccup. “Why didn’t we bet money on that, on me? We would have cleared the house-”

His lips are suddenly over mine, silencing my words but doing little to stop my relentless laughter. I feel him smile against my mouth, and then he readjusts his hold on me to deepen the kiss. I manage to stop long enough to draw in a breath through my nose so I don’t pass out from the lack of oxygen, refocus my brain as I lean into his next kiss.

He pulls away a few seconds later, his forehead resting against mine, a goofy grin on his face. “You are something else, you know that?”

“Shhhhhh,” I reply, a finger against his lips, “no talking. Can’t wake Sammy.”

“I’ve been awake ever since you two stampeded through the door.” Sam’s voice carries across the room, thick with sleep and agitation. “Now shut up and go to sleep.”

Dean and I freeze, looking at each other with wide eyes, and then we’re both laughing as he picks me up off the floor and into his arms, carrying me across the room, held tightly to his chest. 

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

[supernaturalfreewill]

Reader pronouns: she/her “Oh, God,” you groaned and doubled over, your hands on your knees. Your face was a little contorted with disgust. “Whoa, whoa... You okay?” Dean asked, immediately rushing over and gently placing a hand on your back.  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just the--the smell,” you said, straightening up, chancing a glance back at the decapitated vampire and the still expanding pool of blood. You gagged a little and doubled-over again. “God, I can smell the blood. It’s like it’s in my mouth.”  Sam was watching the whole interaction with curiosity and glanced down at the bloody blade in his hand and then back down at the body. “Huh. That’s weird,” he thought aloud. 

“What?” you asked, straightening up again and trying to stop your nauseous stomach from turning. “Well... I don’t know. How many vampires have we watched you kill? Not to mention all the other--”  Dean was staring at his brother, perplexed, and apparently a little annoyed about his questioning you when you were very obviously not feeling well. “Do you have a point, Sam?” he growled. “Well... I’ve never seen her react that way to blood or gore,” Sam said. “It’s probably just a little stomach bug,” you said. “Can you guys deal with the body? I’m gonna just go sit in the Impala.” “Yeah, of course, babe,” Dean said, worry still evident on his brow.  The Winchesters watched you walk away, still a little hunched over, and climb into the back seat of the car and Sam turned and looked at Dean. “What?” “Uh... Nothing,” Sam said, shaking his head. He turned away to deal with the mess but Dean let out an annoyed scoffed. “Okay. Obviously not ‘nothing’ but whatever,” he growled. Sam straightened up and shot a look at his brother. “You really want to know?” “No, I’m just pretending,” Dean shot back in annoyance.   “Alright,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t think she has a stomach bug.” Dean stared at his brother, becoming more and more irritated by the second at his dancing around whatever it was he was thinking. “Uhh... Okay... What, you think she’s faking to get out of clean-up duty or what? What the hell are you getting at?” Sam let out a small laugh as wiped off his blade. “Sudden and extreme aversion to certain smells? Really, Dean? This isn’t clicking anything for you?” Sam watched in amusement as the puzzled and irritated expression on his brother’s face was replaced with a look of shock. “Oh--Oh...” His green eyes went round and he stared back at his little brother, gulping nervously. “Are you saying--you think she’s--?” Sam’s eyebrows lifted and he smiled in amusement at Dean’s reaction. “Maybe,” he shrugged. “It’s possible, right? We both know you certainly haven’t been practicing abstinence...” he joked. Dean clutched a hand to his head, his jaw dropping open slightly, and he spun in his heel to stare at you in the Impala. “Oh. I could be a--she could be--” Sam’s smile widened and he laughed again, nodding. “Pregnant? Yeah.”  The shock on Dean’s face melted away and was replaced by a bewildered smile. “What--what--what do I do?”  Sam laughed again. “Nothing. It could be nothing... It could just be a stomach bug.” “So, I have to just... wait? Should I go buy her one of those pee-on-a-stick kits?”  “You mean a pregnancy test?” Sam laughed. “No, I think you just let her figure it out. If it is true. It could be nothing.” “Right... right. Sure.” Dean chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. “But it could be something,” he murmured, a wide smile on his face. Sam nodded and smiled back. “Yeah. It could be.” Prompt: “It’s obviously not ‘nothing’ but whatever.”

[sofreddie]

A Little Silly

Summary: Y/N thinks Dean could use a little silly. He doesn't take it well, at first.

Characters: Dean, Reader, Sam (no pairing really)

Warnings: Recreational Marijuana Use, Fluff, Rockin'-TF-out!

Word Count: 495

A/N: My entry for @deanwanddamons Rock SPN Flash Fan Fic Challenge. I chose #37 which is Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne. (Clearly I'm an eager beaver, lol.) So when I listened to the song, this drabble went off in its own weird direction. But I kind of love it. Because they really could use a little silly. : )

Dean and Y/N silently waited in the Bunker, sitting at the large map table as they waited for Sam to return with pizza and beer. Y/N had been trying to playfully tell Dean that he really needed to lighten up and let go. That he could 'use a little silly'. Dean got really defensive - which she thought kind of proved her point - and it turned into a minor, awkward argument.

"I'll be right back," she blurted out as she darted down the hall. She returned moments later, a makeup bag in her hands.

"What's that?" Dean asked, his curiosity getting the better of him and making him temporarily forget his minor ire.

She smirked, digging in the bag and pulling out several items - a bag of weed, a few small cigars, and some other tools it appeared. Within moments she had rolled a blunt, and Dean suddenly realized she did this often. How had he missed that?

As he watched her light, inhale, and blow out the heavy smoke, he decided - fuck it - he'd join her. It had been years since he'd smoked. He just didn't have the occasion. Maybe he did need to lighten up a little.

Sam had been gone less than an hour as he parked the Impala in the garage. He made his way inside with dinner before his nose crinkled with an odd smell. He could smell smoke.

As he drifted further within the building, he could see the smoke and hear loud music in the distance. Finally turning into the war room, he was shocked, jaw dropped open at the sight before him.

The room was overwhelmingly smokey, swirling around and laying thick and heavy in the air. Y/N was standing on the map table, hairbrush in hand as she belted out the lyrics to Crazy Train.

Dean, however, was a sight to behold. Sam carefully set the food and beer on the table, his eyes locked on his brother. At least, he was pretty sure it was his brother.

Dean's hair was a bit messy. His eyes barely slits. He grinned with the lit blunt between his teeth as he jammed out his best air guitar. Seeing Sam, Dean's eyes widened slightly. Suddenly, he did a dramatic stage slide on his knees towards Sam, his arm moving in an arc as he mimed a power chord.

Dean took the blunt from between his lips and passed it to Sam with a smile as he stood. Sam accepted it, taking a whiff and making a face before shrugging and hitting it several times.

"You could use a little silly," Dean said to his brother with a chuckle. His whole body was lax. Sam hadn't seen him this relaxed in years.

"Plagiarist!" Y/N accused Dean as he mimicked her words to him. She hopped off the table, exchanging her hairbrush for the blunt. Sam grinned and did his best Ozzy.

Sometimes a little crazy could be a good thing.

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

Dean Winchester:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

[deansbestfriend]

Be My Valentine↝Dean Winchester x Reader.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 780ish :)

Warnings: Implied sex. Comfort!Dean. Fluff!! drabble. 

Summary: Dean surprises you with a Valentine’s Day celebration. 

    The bunker was eerily quiet upon entry. The hallways were usually echoing with the distant voices of at least one if not both of the boys, but this was an unusual quiet. Your mind immediately thought the worse, you had been convinced by both Sam & Dean that it was your turn to go get grocery’s even if you were sure it wasn’t, the time away to pretend that your life was ‘normal’ was nice. You brought the groceries to the kitchen, still a bit weary from the silence, “Dean? Sam?” Your voice traveled, but there wasn’t an answer. As you continued to explore, you could hear the sound of music playing softly towards the direction of your room.

      Immediately on the defense, you drew your gun, out of habit. You never knew what to expect or what thing you’d be dealing with, life had a funny way of teaching you that. As you got closer to your room, you feet began to step on synthetic petals. Your curiosity was at a all time high as you continued to your venture. Slowly, you used your free arm to open the door that was cracked, and that had petals leading inside of it.

    With your gun raised you finally got the chance to survey the room, and there stood  the eldest Winchester struggling to light the last of many candles that had been randomly placed around the room.

    “Oh?! You’re back!” He jumped at the sight of you, and you holding your gun. Noticing your stand-offish manor, you lowered your weapon. “What’s all this?” You curiously asked. Your room was transformed; a bouquet on display your nightstand, the room lit by the flames of candles, even a few balloons that floated to the ceiling lingered. “Well, Y/N, I know you never got the chance to have a real Valentine’s day, and quite frankly neither have I, so-” He stopped talking as his face brightened with a wide smile, in his hands now, a plush teddy bear holding a heart that read ‘ I WUV YOU. ‘ and with that you couldn’t help but let a giggled slip.

    Dean clearly happy with your amusement extended his arms, handing you the bear. “Squeeze it.” He chimed, like a kid on Christmas. You did, “ You mean the world to me, Y/N. “ It was his voice coming from the bear. Part of you wanted to laugh, the other half cry. Dean wasn’t exactly the type of guy to hand out words of affirmation, you were lucky enough to get an “I’m proud of you.” from him, but this? This felt like he had his hands around your heart, and you didn’t want him to let go. “Oh wait! I did this in the wrong order, you came home too early!” He turned around for a moment while you held the bear to your chest. “Y/N, will you be my Valentine.” A cheesy grin across his face as he extended a single flower to you. You had never seen the Winchester like this but it was an experience you’d remember forever.

    “Yes, Dean. I’ll be your Valentine.” You replied pulling him into an embrace after placing the bear on the corner of the bed. You held onto him and as he held onto you, you spoke again. “I feel bad, I didn’t get you anything.”

    “Did you get the pie?” He momentarily looked down at you, and you nodded. “That’s all I wanted then.” He chuckled. You kissed him. For the first time, all because you couldn’t resist your own overwhelming emotions. The two of you hadn’t been more than platonic cuddle buddies within the last few months, but this pushed you over the edge. You had fallen heads over heels for the casanova turned hero. To your relief, he kissed you back with more authority than you had. While holding onto you, he moved the two of you onto your bed, and now on top of you, he had the smile that you could look at forever on his lips. “You messed up your heart made from rose petals.” You spoke, grinning from ear to ear. “Nah, the only thing I’m worried about is already looking up at me.”

     The rest of the night was spent exploring one another in ways that you felt like would be too vulgar to repeat. He was everything and more, in more ways than one. Intimately, the two of you connected and in his arms, while his hands exploring you, you felt as safe as you had ever felt. This was the best Valentine’s Day ever, for it to be the first you had ever celebrated.

[jayankles]

The Perfect Pair - Part 6

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 644

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, language, smut, knotting

Summary: You’re supposed to marry the Prince, Dean Winchester, but you are opposed. You wanted to marry for love but those are simply not your duties, you need to do this for your family, for you kingdom, you have no other choice. But will you end up even remotely liking the stern faced, womanizing Prince?

Written For @spnabobingo​ 

Square Filled: Knotting

Series Masterlist

Feedback is Gold and Appreciated

“Good morning, Princess.” Dean mumbled sleepily, his eyes fluttering open. A soft smile on his face as his morning wood nudged against your leg. “I can smell you.”

You kissed the top of his head before Dean brushed his nose against yours, his lips pressing to yours softly and before you knew it, you were on your back.

“Alpha, how long have you been thinking about me, huh? Can feel you, so hard.” You gasped as he pushed his hips against yours. 

Dean hovered over you, his strong musk filling your senses when he dipped his head into your neck, rutting against you. But then your cramps fight against your stomach, kicking you down once more, your heat dominating all your other emotions. Now more than ever you were horny, you were sweating just at the press of his tongue against your neck.

“Please, Alpha. I need your cock. Need you to knot me and fill me up with your pups.” You pant, rubbing your hand over his shoulders and down his arms. Your hands flew to the waistband of his pajama pants, loosening them before you drag them down his thick thighs. He followed your actions, pulling your nightgown up to your hips, your slick already coating your panties.

As much as you love it when Dean eats your pussy, you need him inside of you. He can smell your frustration, mixed with your desire to have him knot you. He removes your panties, he doesn’t want anything in the way when he fucks you.

“Omega, so wet for me.” He hums, finger slipping through your folds as he brings your panties to his nose and inhales your sweet scent.

You nod with a whimper, unable to say anything as you bite down on your bottom lips, trying to keep quiet. Dean takes his cock in his hands, rubbing the tip over your folds before he drags the tips through them. Swiftly, he finds your opening and lines himself up, slowly pushing into your core. Crying out, he fills you to the hilt. He falls on top of you, his tongue licking over the mark on your neck and scraping his teeth against the mark he gave you. Dean hips thrust into yours, going deeper with every pump of them. You pull your Alpha close to your body, threading your finger through his bed head. His breaths drive you crazy as he fucks into you, you feel his knot swell within your core, stretching you out but locking into you. He wants to fill you with his pups, wants to see you big and round every day up the day his babies are born.

His pace quickens, every drag of his knot against your inner walls makes you wince. Your slick makes it easy for him to slide in and out but you still feel the sting his cock creates. 

“Alpha, I’m gonna come.” You pant, hiking your leg up and over the back of Dean’s thigh. “Dean, I’m so close.”

Suddenly, Dean was underneath you, thumb pressing to your throbbing clit, watching you grind on him. His knot locks inside of you and with a few thrusts of his hips, he spurts his come inside of your pussy, you’re not far behind him, riding out the waves of your orgasm until you were all fucked out. You collapsed on top of him, his knot still holding himself inside of you, making sure your greedy cunt swallowed every drop of his seed.

“You look so beautiful when you’re on top of me, stuffed with my cock. D’you want breakfast or do you want to go for another round?” Dean smirks, rolling onto his side and taking you with him. You wait for a rough kiss but it’s exactly the opposite when his knuckles softly run over your cheeks “I can go for either.”

[justagirlinafandomworld]

No Going Back

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Witch!Reader 

Word Count: 100

Written for @msmarvelouswinchester who was the 10th participant for my Flash Fiction Challenge 3. This sparked 2 pieces actually, because I love a witch!Reader. One: drama; the other: rom-com. Hope you like it! 

Song Prompt: Dark Horse by Katy Perry

Warnings: Angst-ish. Lucifer. Allusion to self-sacrifice.

The flash of lightning illuminated the surprise on his face.

Winds blew through the windows.

Shards of glass rained down.

You couldn’t hold his gaze for long, knowing that the surprise would be brief – betrayal chasing it away as he would second-guess everything about you. So, you directed your command to Sam:

“Get out of here!”

Lucifer groaned against your binds, the glass leaving bloody scratches against his exposed face.

Another clap and roar of thunder. 

Tears seeped at the corners of your eyes; your boots stressed against concrete.

You couldn’t hold the devil back for long.

Just long enough.

Supernatural tags:  @hobby27​ @lyarr24​

Dean Winchester tags:  @akshi8278 @foxyjwls007​

[themrsdeanwinchester]

Two Souls - Part 1

Welcome to my first mini series! I had originally planned on this being a one shot but I got attached while writing it and it’s a story that is very close to my heart. I decided why not turn it into my very first mini series! I say mini because I don’t plan on it being longer than four, five parts tops. But that could change. We will see how it goes. :) In this series, Dean has retired from hunting but still lives in the bunker with Sam.

I’m the only one who has read this, so if there are mistakes, I apologize. I read it and did my best to find all my errors. You can find more of my work here.

Pairing: Dean x female reader

Warnings: Fluff, Dean being adorable. Possible trigger warnings in future parts of the story.

Word Count: 3,866

Series Summary: Dean starts a job working as a mechanic as a locally owned auto shop. The owner’s daughter, who works at the shop, makes Dean’s heart ache from the moment he sets eyes on her. But, does she feel the same way? What will her dad think? When her life starts crumbling, is it Dean who will be there for her and help her pick up the pieces?

I would love feedback, please :) Also, please send me a message/ask if you'd like to be added to my tag list.

Dean pulled his Impala into a spot at David’s Auto Shop for his interview with the owner and office manager. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he looked at the shop bays, all seven of them full of cars. The shop was a busy one because it was popular with the locals. The owner, David, was well respected and had been in business for over twenty years. Dean was nervous that his resume wouldn’t impress the veteran mechanic since he had never worked for an auto shop before. 

He got out of the Impala and ran his hands down the front of his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. He had chosen his nicest plaid shirt, buttoned all the way up to the collar and tucked into his jeans. He had done his best to clean up his boots but they were still stained. 

Dean approached the shop, resume in hand. He grabbed the door, took another deep breath and stepped inside the shop. The phones were ringing off the hook, mechanics were running in and out of the door from the shop to grab keys, put paperwork on the counter and answer the phones.

A husky, tall man with broad shoulders walked through the door and set his gaze on Dean.

“How can I help you?” He asked.

“I’m here for an interview,” Dean said. He glanced at the man’s name patch. He was the owner.

“You must be Dean. I’m David.” He extended his left hand to Dean. Out of instinct, Dean reached out his right hand to shake David’s. Only to fumble and change to his left. David laughed. “I’m left handed. My handshake always throws everyone off. Go through that doorway,” David pointed to Dean’s right, “and the first door on your right is the office manager’s office. I’ll meet you in there. She’s expecting you.” 

Dean crossed the lobby and into the hallway. To his left was a hallway that lead to the shop and  a few feet ahead he could see the office manager’s door. As he approached it, he could hear music. To his delight, it was Led Zeppelin. When he entered the room, the woman looked up at him from the desk and his jaw slightly dropped. He hadn’t been expecting a woman as beautiful as she was. He stood there staring for a moment until she broke the silence.

“Hi. You must be Dean.” She stood up and walked around the desk. Dean couldn’t help but let his eyes travel up and down her body. She was wearing jeans that fit just right, hugging her curves in all of the right places and that flared slightly around her boots. She was wearing a plain black V-neck shirt with a mechanics shirt that matched David’s “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” She extend her hand to Dean with a blinding smile on her face.

When Dean took her hand, he was surprised at how soft her skin was despite her very firm handshake. “Y-Yeah. Dean. Nice to meet you, too,” he stuttered.

David saved him by walking in the door. “I see you’ve met my daughter,” he said. “Turn the radio down.” He gestured to Y/N who turned the nob down to a whisper.

“Oh, I didn’t know she was your daughter,” Dean said. He looked back at Y/N who just smiled again.

“Shall we get started?” She suggested, taking a seat behind her desk again. 

Dean sat in a chair across from her and David sat next to Y/N. 

“So, Dean. It doesn’t look like you have ever worked as a mechanic before,” Y/N said, looking over his short resume. “But you say you’ve got a few decades of experience.” She looked up at Dean.

“No, I mean yes. Well, no I haven’t ever worked as a mechanic for a shop before but I do have a lot of experience. My dad taught me a lot and then I also learned as I went. I have rebuilt my car a few times. I do all of my own work on her. My other dad, well, my adopted dad, kind of, he owned a junk yard. I worked on a lot of cars at his place as well,” Dean explained. He took another deep breath and cursed himself for fumbling so much. 

Y/N and her dad nodded, exchanged a glance and Y/N smiled a little.

“I am mostly self taught as well,” David said to Dean. “Just classes in high school and college, mostly because it’s the only subjects I liked,” he chuckled. 

“It says you have been self employed all your life. Winchester Brothers. What did you do?” Y/N asked.

“My brother and I were in the business of... pest control.” Dean widened his eyes a little, realizing he didn’t actually know anything about exterminating bugs. He prayed they didn’t ask him details.

Again, the daughter and father duo nodded. Dean used the back of his hand to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. He hadn’t been this nervous about anything in awhile. It didn’t help that every time he looked at Y/N, his heart lurched as if it were reaching out to her.

“Dean,” David’s voice brought Dean back down to earth. “I like you. And I’m always right about people. You’ve got yourself a job. Y/N will get your shirt size and have a few made for you. I’ve got to get back out there. I’ve got an engine I need to finish a rebuild on by the end of the day.” David stood up, stumbled a little and groaned.

Y/N jumped jump. “Dad, why don’t you take it easy. I can finish the rebuild for you.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. She listened to Led Zeppelin, was beautiful, and could work on cars? He was impressed.

“I’m fine,” David snapped, causing Y/N to recoil and plop back down behind her desk. “Can you start tomorrow?” David directed at Dean.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Great, see you at 7:30AM. We might have some old shop shirts you can wear until Y/N gets yours in. Have a good one.” With that, David lumbered out the door and disappeared.

Dean looked back at Y/N. Her eyes were glistening with tears but he could tell she was holding them back. “Are you okay?”

Y/N looked up, blinking back the tears. “Yes. I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “What size are you, Dean?”

He loved the way she said his name. It was heavenly. “Large.”

“Okay. I’ll order you five shirts. Do you have a nickname you’d like on the name patch or is Dean ok?”

“Dean is fine. I don’t have a nickname.” Dean was now able to see the name patch on her shirt. It said Bud. “Is Bud your boyfriend?” He asked before his brain could tell his mouth stop.

Y/N looked down at her name patch. “Oh, no. My dad calls me Bud. Has ever since I was a kid. I have one or two with my actual name on it but the ones that say Bud are my favorite,” she explained as she stood up. “Come with me. I’ll get you a few shirts for the rest of the week. Your shirts should be in by next Monday.”

Dean followed Y/N out of her office and down the hallway. Next to a door labeled Parts there was a coat closest. Y/N rummaged through it looking for shirts. She handed him four.

“That’ll get through until Friday and Monday morning I should have yours in. Oh, what kind of car do you have?”

“67 Impala.”

Y/N eyes widened a little. “Can I see it?” Her voice was bubbling over with excitement. 

“Absolutely.”

Y/N followed Dean outside. “Wow,” she breathed. “She’s gorgeous. How long have you had her?”

“A couple decades,” Dean answered. He watched as her hand hovered over the hood. He could tell she wanted to touch it, run her hands along the shiny and warm metal. She curled her fingers and retracted her hand. “You can touch her,” Dean said through a small laugh.

Y/N turned to him, a smile on her face. She gently placed her hand on the hood, soaking up the beauty of the Impala. “I might have to talk to you into letting me drive her someday.”

Dean laughed. “Maybe. I barely let my brother drive her.”

“Fair enough. I won’t let anyone drive my truck.”

“What do you have?”

“66 Ford F100. Caribbean Turquoise. It was my dad’s first truck. I helped him rebuild it a few years ago.” She turned to face Dean. “Want to see it?” Her smile was so big, there was no way Dean could say no.

He followed Y/N around back and as soon as he turned the corner, he saw her truck. It stood out, the Caribbean Turquoise bright and shiny compared to the darker and more neutral toned cars around it.

“Oh, wow. It’s nice. How long did it take you guys to rebuild?” Dean peeked through the window. The interior was the same color, even the seat. The inside was immaculate.

“A few months. We had an advantage, owning a shop and all,” Y/N said, gesturing up at the building. She looked at the shop for a long time. Dean watched as she admired it and her eyes started to glisten again. “Well,” she broke the silence. She curled her index fingers under her eyes, pushing her eyes closed to soak up the tears. “We will see you in the morning, Dean. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Yeah, you too. See you tomorrow,” Dean said with a wave. He watched Y/N disappear around the building before making his way back to his Impala and driving away.

Three months into working for David’s shop, Dean had managed to learn a few things about Y/N. She loved classic rock, the Doors, 13th Floor Elevators and Zeppelin being her favorites. One of those three was always playing in her office. She was just as good as any one else in the shop at working on cars. She filled in when other mechanics called out or were on vacation. She also had a few of her own regulars who only would let her work on their cars. Her favorite color was Y/F/C and she loved rainy days. He also never once saw her wear a shirt with her actual name on it, only ones with Bud. 

Christmas time had rolled around and the company holiday party was on a Saturday night at a local pizza parlor. Everyone was allowed to bring their families or partner with them and Dean was anxiously waiting to see it Y/N would bring anyone with her. He’d never heard her talk about anyone at work. Never even saw her take a phone call to anyone but customers or vendors. No one stopped by to see her either. Just customers.

In the back seat of the Impala Dean had a gift for Y/N. It was a scarf in her favorite color. He had picked a scarf because sometimes, when he’d stop by her office to say good morning, she had the collar of her shirt pulled up. He asked her why and she said it was always cold in her office in the winter time. It was practical but also thoughtful. 

Dean walked into the pizza parlor. It was nice and warm inside so he shrugged off his jacket and straightened out his plaid shirt. He surveyed the room until he saw some of his co-workers, including David, in the very back. They all threw their heads back in laughter. Beer pitchers were empty on the table but not for long. Soon he saw Y/N walking over, gripping the handles of four beer pitchers, two in each hand. She spread them out across the table before turning towards the door. Her eyes landed on Dean and she smiled. She waved enthusiastically at him and made her way through the crowd.

“Dean!” She said, throwing her arms around him for a hug. Dean smiled, the smell of her shampoo tickling his nose. “Pizza and beer at the table already. I’ll grab you a cold glass.”

“Oh, no. It’s alright, I’ll go get it,” Dean protested.

“I’m going back up there to grab my dad another soda, I’ll grab it. Join everyone else.” She smiled and walked away towards the counter. He watched her go, her steps a little jagged from the beer she’d been drinking. He smiled to himself and approached the table.

Everyone greeted Dean cheerfully. He was introduced to everyone’s guests they had brought with them and he did his best to keep up with everyone’s names and which kids belonged with which couple. A beer was set down in front of him. He looked up to find Y/N standing above him. He smiled and thanked her. She sat down in the empty seat next to him with her own beer.

“I got us special ones. It’s actually my favorite from a local brewery. I hope you like IPAs.” She put the glass to her lips, taking a generous drink. “Try it!” She smiled at Dean, making his heart flutter. 

He complied, his eyes growing large. “This is really good!”

“Told ya,” she smirked. “Pizza?” Y/N put two big slices of pizza on a plate and sat it down in front of Dean before he could answer. She then helped herself to some as well. Dean couldn’t help but smile. A girl who liked pizza and beer. There she goes, he thought, checking more things off my list. A list he didn’t even realize he had until he’d met her.

As the night wore on, people started leaving. A few of the kids had crawled into the laps of their parents and fallen asleep. Their group got thinner and thinner until it was just Dean, Y/N and her dad.

“I’m heading home, Bud.” He hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Dean, thanks for coming.” He reached out to shake Dean’s hand.

“Thank you for having me.”

“Can you make sure, Y/N gets home okay? She walked here and it’s kind of late.” David eyed his daughter who was sipping on another beer.

“Definitely, sir.” 

As everyone left, Dean turned to Y/N. “Are you ready to head home?”

“I guess…” Y/N trailed off. She was lost in thought for a second. She downed the rest of her beer. “Alright, let’s go.” She stood up and lurched towards Dean, putting her hands onto his chest to catch herself. Dean instinctively wrapped his hands around her biceps.

“Whoa there,” he chuckled.

“Sorry. I am definitely a little bit buzzed.” Y/N laughed, her cheeks growing red.

“Don’t be sorry,” Dean assured her.

Dean lead Y/N out to his Impala and opened the door for her. He let her get in on her own, his hand close by just in case she needed it. 

“Oh! I’m honored to get a ride in Dean Winchester’s Impala,” she remarked. She looked up at him from the passenger seat, an enormous grin on her face. Dean couldn’t help but think she looked perfect in the passenger seat, as if she was always meant to be its passenger.

A few minutes later, Dean pulled up in front of Y/N’s house. It was a modest home in a nice neighborhood. All of the homes were older, built in the 50’s. Y/N’s was light green with a white porch and steps. Her F100 was parked in the drive way. It was the only car there, Dean observed.

“Do you want to come inside?” Y/N’s invitation caught Dean off guard.

“We won’t wake anyone up?” Dean posed the question carefully. He was prying for an answer, but didn’t want to be too obvious that he was trying to figure out if she was taken or not.

“Nope. This is my place. Just me. Party of one.” She smiled, her eyes slightly glassy.

Dean hesitated a moment. He got his answer but since Y/N had been drinking, he didn’t want her or her dad to get the wrong idea about him taking her home and ending up inside her house. He did want to give her the gift he’d gotten her though. “Okay. I have a gift for you.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Really? I actually have something for you, too,” she said quietly.

Dean smiled and his heart, again, leaped forward, always in the direction of Y/N. “Let’s get inside, it’s getting cold.” Dean got out of his Impala, grabbed the gift box from behind his seat, and then walked around to open Y/N’s door. He held out his hand to assist her. She took it, squeezing his slightly as she hoisted herself out of the car. 

He followed her up to the door, she fumbled with her keys, first using the wrong one. “Oops, that’s my dad’s. They look the same as mine. Here it is!” The door creaked as she opened it. She stepped in side. “Welcome to my humble little home.” She gestured for Dean to come inside.

Y/N’s house had all hardwood flooring and was accented with Y/F/C, her favorite, and smelled like cinnamon. She walked over to the small Christmas tree she had in the corner and turned its lights on. The lights were white and the ornaments were all different kinds. There was no theme to her tree, just random ornaments she liked, ones that reminded her of people, places, and things. She grabbed one of the presents from under the tree. 

“Let’s sit on the couch and open them together.” She made her way to her couch and plopped down. She patted the cushion beside her, beckoning Dean to sit with her.

As soon as he sat down, Y/N shoved his gift from her into his lap. “Open it! I’m terrible at keeping secrets when it comes to gifts.” The grin on her face was bigger than he’d ever seen it before. 

He chuckled as he unwrapped the box and pulled the lid off. Inside was a few things. First was a nice, heavy duty travel coffee mug with his name on it. “So the guys at the shop know it’s yours” Y/N said through a laugh. One time, Dean and another mechanic had gotten their coffees mixed up. The other mechanic liked his coffee extremely creamy and sweet, Dean liked his black. Y/N had witness them both spit out each others coffee all over the shop floor. Next was a picture of Dean’s Impala in front of David’s shop. It was from a low angle, the car taking up the foreground with the shop’s sign hovering over it. There were raindrops on the Impala and the sky above was dark and angry. He looked at it in awe. It was a beautifully crafted shot.

“I thought it was a neat picture,” Y/N said quietly with a shrug.

“Did you take this?” Dean turned to her, awestruck. She nodded her head, a small, closed mouth smile on her face. “I love it. It’s… it’s a really beautiful shot. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Y/N smiled. “There’s one more thing in there.”

At the bottom of the box was a black mechanics jacket with Dean’s name on it. He pulled it out and turned it around to reveal the shop’s name on the back.

“That one is from my dad and me. Only he and I have one. And now you,” Y/N half whispered.

Dean turned to her, overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity she, and her dad, had shown him. They took a chance hiring him and now, they were giving him a jacket, something that clearly held a special meaning for the two of them. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We’re so happy to have you be part of the shop family.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Dean taking in his gifts and Y/N watching him. He gently placed his gifts back into his box before handing Y/N hers.

“Now I feel like I should have gotten you a little more…” Dean trailed off.

“No,” Y/N said, dragging out the O’s, and waving Dean’s remark off with her hand. She pulled the bow off of the decorative box and popped the lid off. She pulled out the Y/F/C scarf Dean had picked out. She ran her hands over it, taking in how soft the fabric was. She wrapped it around her neck and looked up at Dean. “You remembered my favorite color.”

“Of course,” Dean said through a grin, his voice hushed. “Now you won’t be so cold in your office in the mornings.”

“Thank you, Dean. I love it.” Y/N pulled the ends of the scarf forward, taking in the details and feeling the warmth around her neck.

She looked up at him, and held his gaze for a moment. Then, she closed the gap between them to place a soft kiss on his lips. As she pulled away, Dean took a deep breath. He’d been wanting to kiss her for months and he didn’t want to stop now.

“It’s late. I should get going.” Dean stood up, gathering up his gift box.

Y/N followed suit, still wearing her scarf as she walked Dean to her door. He stepped out onto the porch and spun around to face her. She was holding onto the door, letting it support her. But not because she had been drinking, no. It was for a different reason. It was because kissing Dean had taken her breath away and made her knees weak. Her hands were trembling and she needed to steady herself, not wanting him to notice what he’d done to her, what he’d been doing to her since they had met in her office months prior. She had been pining for Dean, but she was so sure he had a significant other. There was no way a man as handsome, kind, funny, caring, and… her list went on. But there as no way, so she thought, that a man like Dean was single. 

“Do you want to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” Dean’s question pulled Y/N from her thoughts.

“I’d love that.” Her answer was quick, zero hesitation, and Dean noticed.

“Pick you up at 6?”

“I’ll be ready. Casual or fancy?” Y/N questioned.

“Which one would you like?” 

“Casual.”

“Casual it is, sweetheart.” Dean smiled, wished her good night and almost skipped back to his Impala.

Y/N waved to Dean in his car and closed the door, locking it tight behind her. She leaned back against it, letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She had a date, for the first time years. And, it was with the man of her dreams.

Tags: @akshi8278​, @notan-applepielife​

There is a pinned post with my Masterlist on my blog. Thank you for reading! 

[trexrambling]

For the drabble prompt request ~ Dean Winchester and “you need to distract me. do something, anything.“ Thank you! <3

The banging on your bedroom door startles you awake. You jolt upright with a sharp gasp, clutching damp covers to your chest. 

-bang-bang-bang- “Y/N?! Are you okay?”

You’re shaking, partially chilled by the sweat that’s soaked through your T-shirt and also from the gut wrenching fear that still has a grasp of your subconscious.

The door to your room flies open with a loud clang as the lock busts, and a shriek pushes its way past your throat. You cower into your pillow, eyes squeezed shut, breathing unsteady.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, you’re alright.”

You flinch away from the hand that’s suddenly on your shoulder, and it quickly retreats.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s me. It’s Dean.”

You draw in a shaky breath and slowly open your eyes, let your pupils adjust to the dim light and focus on his silhouette, gingerly resting on the edge of your bed.

“What’s going on?” you rasp out. You notice the gun in his hand, and your eyes widen as your heart rate accelerates again. “Did something happen?”

“Y/N, no, you…” Dean sets the gun on your bedside table and slowly puts a hand on your shoulder again, his eyes searching your face. “Y/N… you were screaming.”

The memory of the dream floods back with his words, and you close your eyes again, try to take a deep breath, in and out, but it just gets stuck in your throat.

“God, you’re shaking like a leaf.” His weight shifts, and now he has a hand on each of your arms, gently rubbing up and down. “Do you need something? Can I get-”

“You need to distract me,” you manage to whisper, cutting him off. Air isn’t filling your lungs correctly, and you struggle to find some to keep talking. “Do something, anything.”

You feel his warm breath on your face as his hand slides to the back of your neck. He’s painstakingly close to you, but you’re still struggling to focus on anything but the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears and the black fog of the nightmare that’s now pulling real, blood-soaked flashbacks to the forefront of your mind.

“Dean.” His name passes your lips with a small sob and then, before you can say another word, his lips are on yours.

It’s as if he only meant to kiss you once by how light and careful he is, to provide a distraction, like you’d asked. But then you’re kissing him back, your shaky hand settling against the stubble on his cheek. And then his mouth doesn’t leave yours, instead taking on a firm edge as he kisses you again, and again.

His arm goes around you, pulling you closer, the hand that was on your neck now tilting your chin, angling your mouth to better form against his. With one swift motion you’re scooped into his lap, and your once rigid limbs are released from their previous, fear locked state as your hands find his chest, realizing for the first time that he’s not wearing anything but his boxers as you clutch his shoulder, his arms, feel his back muscles against your palms as you desperately try to pull him closer. 

The darkness moves to the edges of your reality as Dean replaces it, filling up every bit of space around you. You soak him in, run your hands through his hair, feel his skin hot against yours.

His lips eventually slow, now gentle, soft, as his hands travel back up to your arms. He pulls away, and you meet his gaze with wide eyes before he leans forward to set his forehead against yours, a deep sigh filling and leaving his lungs.

“Are you-” he swallows, takes another breath before continuing- “Did that…Are you okay?”

You breathe in and out alongside him, slow and steady, and nod your head.

“Do you want me to… Can I-”

“Will you stay with me?” you whisper.

His answer is to draw back the covers, keep you close against him as he lays down with your back against his chest. His arms envelope your frame, your head tucked neatly under his chin.

“Are you good?” he quietly asks, his lips finding your hair as his grip tightens around you.

You squeeze his arm and close your eyes, settling fully into him.

“I am now.”

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

If anyone has a wee Drabble request, I’m very much feeling this list of prompts right now and would love to do some writing! xo

[supernaturalfreewill]

The door swung open and Dean had been about to say something snarky to Sam when he saw who was hobbling in with him, bruised up and limping. “Surprise,” you said weakly as Sam kicked the door shut behind you. Dean jumped up, his face clouded with concern and his green eyes flashing. “What the hell--Y/N! What are you--what happened?!” Sam helped you sit down in a chair in the corner and you winced and wrapped an arm around your ribs. “Gangs all here, huh? I have to say, I wasn’t really expecting a reunion on this case.”  Dean was slowly wandering over toward you with a look of disbelief on his face. “What the hell?” he said again. “What are you doing here?” You met his green eyes for the first time and Dean felt a rush. It’d been so long since he’d seen you. “Hunting.” “How is that going?” he asked. He reached out and gently clasped your chin, turning it slightly so he could look at the purple bruise across your cheekbone. You caught his eyes again. “Peachy.” You hadn’t meant for it to come out as a whisper. Sam couldn’t help but smile fondly at how his brother always softened around you. Without fail, no matter what was happening, it was like you could break him open, even when he was holding himself closed so hard his hands were shaking. “Here,” Sam said, breaking the spell between you and Dean to hand you an ice pack. “Put that on that shiner you earned and then you can tell Dean and I who or what we need to kill for beating you up like this.” “Already got it,” you said, pressing the ice pack over your face. Dean smiled. “I’d expect nothing less.”

[castieltrash1]

Dean + Blanket

(a/n: this is post!hunt comfort so there’s some mentions of injuries!! also ily anon)

---

“There you go, sweetheart,” Dean murmurs, helping you slide off his shoulder into the backseat of the car. The leather is cool and the adrenaline from the night wears off in little drops of sweat that cling to your bruised and bloodied skin.

It wasn’t a bad hunt, not in the long-term view of things. But, it was enough to have you battered more than usual, and that much is proven by the various stings and aches that speckle your arms and legs.

It takes him a few seconds of rummaging through the trunk, but Dean returns with a heavy blanket -- flannel and a deep red that reminds you of the one hanging in his closet. It’s a little dusty and you’re not entirely sure when it made its way to the Impala, but you let Dean drape it over you and tuck it around your shoulders.

“You just rest, ok?” He smiles and his lip is busted, but all his attention and concern are on you. “We’ll be home soon.”

When he finally gets in the driver’s seat -- Sam dozing off next to him -- he turns the heater on just a tad, and you fall asleep to the sound of legos rattling in the vents.

send me a character + a word