#DeanWinchesterFanfic

[rosepettles]

Ad Astra Per Aspera (deanwinchesterxfemaleOC)

This story contains allusions and discussions of SA, Supernatural typical violence, and trauma, Please read with caution <3

 The dim lights of the cement walled room flickered with a consistent hum, similar to the hum of the lights overhead inside of a library or bank. Regardless of familiarity the sound provided her, she  wanted nothing more than to be back inside of her own home, tucked away in her own bed which was much more comfortable than the broken in and stained army cot she was situated on. Over time she had come to notice another very constant sound, the mummering of her captors. She could constantly hear them speaking, laughing, joking, living as if she wasn’t slowly losing her will to live. With a sudden ‘boom!’ the mumbling stopped. She flinched at the noise regardless of her ability to mobilize her body. The mumbling turned to yelling, she could only assume the group's kingpin was the one barking orders. Without a second longer to process her thoughts were sharply interrupted by a gunshot ringing throughout whatever hellscape she was stuck in. She wanted to scream, hoping that the shot came from some kind of law enforcement, however no noise would rise from her vocal cords which she had practically shredded in her early days of captivity. She can no longer remember how long she had been there. After what she estimated to be around ten shots rang out, the yelling had completely ceased. She laid there, in the earth shattering silence waiting for the shooters to get to her next. The door swings open on its rusty hinges with a high pitched screech. Two masculine figures emerge from the shadows of the dim hallway. The two broad shouldered men stood in the doorway with guns drawn in her direction, however they were quick to aim towards the floor as they took in her restrained state, little did they know her desire for them to raise their guns again. 

“Please…” she spoke with a gritty rasp, pointing eye contact at their now lowered guns. The slightly shorter man spoke,

“Holy shit,”

 The slightly taller man took a timid step towards her cot, making it a point for her to see him holster his weapon.  

“Hi, Oliva? My name is Sam, are you hurt? We’re  are here to help you,” Oliva; was that her name? She ran it through her mind, only resulting in vague familiarity. It had then dawned on her just how detached from reality she had become in an attempt to provide herself some sick assemblance of mercy. She must've been staring at him because he continued to ask her questions. 

“Can you hear me?” She nods at him, still shocked by the kind, human, presence in front of her. The shorter man began to look annoyed, his eyes continuously scanning the room behind him. 

“Sam! We don’t have time for you to coddle her, move. Your. ass,” Sam turned to his companion with an incredulous look on his face. 

“I’m not “coddling” anyone Dean, I'm being gentle with someone who's been hurt. You could learn a thing or two,” Sam scoffed before turning back to Oliva. Dean stood back with his eyebrows furrowed into a frown, his strong arms now crossed in front of his chest. Sam pulled a pocket knife from his jeans, bringing it towards the ropes binding her hands and feet. His eyes trailed to the pool of blood underneath her left foot, a clear slice had clearly traveled its way through her achilles tendon.

“I just need to get rid of these,” he paused a moment before sighing, “Even though he’s being a douche about it, Deans right, we need to get you out of this shit hole asap,” he spoke in a more hurried tone than that of what was previously used. Oliva nodded given that there wasn’t much she could do in this situation. Once her restraints were removed from her atrophied limbs Sam gestured towards her with an awkward yet caring smile. 

“May I?,” she nods with hesitation once again before Sam places his forearms under her thin body, lifting her into the air in order to begin their journey outside.  Dean rolled his eyes at the caution in his brother’s face as he haphazardly stomped through the, now door-less, door frame. As they made their way to the car Dean took notice of the glass-like woman in his brother’s arms, Although her wounds weren’t freshly given, they appeared painful and driven by scorn. 

“Don’t let her get blood on baby,” Dean muttered to Sam just before he was able to climb into the back seat with Olivia; In return Sam shot Dean a stern look into the rearview mirror. Olivia was sitting slumped  against the cool leather of the car, allowing the material to relieve the burning of her shot nerves. However, her comfort did not last long as the road they were driving on was filled with potholes and uneven pavement. Oh what a joy it was to be driving in the middle of nowhere. 

The  juvenile talking  started up again. The joy throughout the house signified, to Olive, that her suffering was about to resume. The piercing laughs brought only fear to her prolonged hell. She prepared herself as the janky door she was trapped behind creaked open, cobwebs being broken in the process. How long had that door been closed in front of her? A lanky man with luscious blonde hair, styled to the side as if he were dressed for a formal event, his eyes were brown, although lacking the once familiar shine in them. Before she could stand up and hide her back was shoved against the rough surface of her army cot. 

With a particularly deep pothole she was jolted awake by her back bumping the car seat. With a deep breath she opened her forcefully squinted  eyes. Sam watches her with caution as she wearily looks around. Sam gives her a tight lipped, sympathetic smile. It was pointless for him to pretend that he knew what she had gone through but he was able to empathize at least. Samuel Winchester was certainly no stranger to nightmares. Sam leaned over and grabbed an old, but unopened, bottle of water that had fallen beneath the driver’s seat. He extended his hand towards her weary form . 

“It might be a little warm, fair warning,” Oliva accepted the bottle from his hands, returning his previously given tight lipped smile. She could lie to herself and say that she was super comfortable around the winchesters and that she enjoyed their company. She really wanted to feel safe, she would do anything to feel safe again.  She allows herself to sit up a tad bit straighter, no longer feeling the heavy pull of sleep. She looked over to the rather large man who was staring at her like she may break down at any minute. 

“Where are we headed?” Her voice was so soft and subtle that Sam would have missed it if he hadn’t been looking at her. Dean had apparently heard her on account of Sam making him turn his music down, much to Dean's chagrin. 

“Bunker,” Dean deadpanned without taking his seemingly serious eyes off the road. Sam took the opportunity to harshly flick the back of Dean's head by reaching an arm around the headrest. With a curt ‘ow!’ emitting from Dean, sam turned to olivia who was slowly sipping on her warm water. 

“He means our house. It’s our house. Please don’t worry about him, he’s just being a prick,” she had no other response than a brief nod. Nobody spoke for the next few hours, somewhere within that time slot Dean turned his music back up. 

*At the Bunker*

Sam and Dean assist her inside and help her find a chair within the kitchen. Dean made a B-line for the fridge to grab himself a beer. Sam had left her side to go grab a first aid kit for her wounds. The shorter brother pulls out a chair besides her, sitting down as if he didn’t see her. She was terrified of him. She knew that he was the kind of man who could spill blood with no consequences, she saw not only discomfort but suspicion in his eyes. She decided to take the friendly approach. As she learned, compliance and acting is better than death. She aimed her eyes to the ground and tucked her knees to her chest, allowing her arms to hug them closer. 

“Thankyou,” Den swivled his head to the side with an unamused look. He took another swig of his beer. 

“For what?” Olivia wasn't sure how to respond to that properly. 

“F-for saving m-” Dean cut her off by putting his hand up, palm facing her face. 

“I didn’t have a say in the matter, that was all sammy. And besides I wouldn’t take it personally, It’s our job,” Olivia knew she wasn’t special in regards to her rescue but having those words said to her with such indifference sent a ping to her chest. Samuel returned to the kitchen and set the large plastic box on the scratched up table. He taps his older brother’s shoulder with the back of his hand. 

“Up,” Dean made a subtle noise of annoyance but knew it would be no use to argue. As Sam sits down he scoots his chair slightly closer in order to get a good look at her injuries. She, by visceral reaction, hugged her knees closer. He looked at her with pity, not the sympathy he was trying to pass it for.

“Hey, I know you don’t know us very well, and I understand that you are afraid right now but if these wounds won't get clean you could get sick or worse…please?” Dean rolled his eyes at how gentle Sam's speech was. She slowly and gently unfurled herself and allowed his access to her pathetic shape. The worst surface wounds were the ones on the soft part of her thighs, crescent shaped scars were accompanied by what looked like an empty space for a blade. However where they ran into serious complications was her ankle. That solid slice through her achilles looked no better in the light than it did in the dark. 

“I know what you're going to say but I really think we should take her to the hospital, some of these injuries neither of us could fix,” Dean attempted to counter Sam's statement.

“Bullshit, she’ll be fine the same way we always are, just fix it like normal,” Sam’s jaw nearly touched the ground due to the speed at which he began to argue.

“Dean. Her foot is hanging on its last threads. We cannot fix anything like that without making it worse …No matter what you say I am taking her. Dean immediately stepped in front of the front door.

“Sammy don’t be stupid! You’ll get caught and then I’ll have to bust your dumbass out of the clink, I am not putting up with that!"By the time dean was finished Sam already had oliva in his arm again, this time she had been gently wrapped in a soft blanket that was set on the couch.

Time skip lol sorry

It’s been about a month since the Winchesters found her in that building, still no lead as to who or what organized the whole thing. However, Olivia didn’t seem to mind not knowing anything because amongst all of the nightmares and anxieties, She felt happy and safe…with Sam at least. She could tell Dean was warming up  or, at the very least,  becoming more accustomed to her presence at least. One morning she had found herself stumbling into the kitchen with an oddly uneven gate,  after a particularly traumatic nightmare.  She was careful not to turn on any light with the exception of the dull yellow bulb that resided above the sink.  She opened the cabinet above her head before attempting to stand on her toes to reach a glass. The post-surgery brace that surrounded her foot made it nearly impossible to do, however. She retracted her attempts and surrendered herself into using a red solo cup from a stack of four Dean had left on the counter. She made her way to the fridge and filled her sad red cup with off brand apple juice, which she happily sipped on.  She was almost finished with her drink when the main kitchen light was turned on, she jumped in response. 

“sorry bout that…what're you drinking out of that plastic shit for?'' Dean groggily wandered into the kitchen, already dressed and prepared for the upcoming day. She looked down at her feet  to avoid his eyes. 

“I can’t reach the glasses.” she said to the ground as opposed to the man standing before her.  He grumbles as he moves towards her position near the cabinet.

“You could've asked,” he slightly complained as he reached beside her to grab a glass and handed it to her. She accepted the glass despite having no use for it anymore.

“Thank you, but I don’t need it anymore…thank you though.” she shyly smiled at him. He nodded his head towards the fridge.

“You could help me get a drink then, can you reach the milk?” she walked and turned to face the now open fridge. Before she could admit that she couldn’t, Dean stepped behind her to reach up for it, placing a hand on her backside.

“It’s ok I got it hun.” he whispered to her. Her blood ran cold, dean never spoke like that. The realization hit her like a freight truck, she froze. He moved her away from the fridge with a gentle pull of her waist before cornering her against the door of white appliance. 

“What’s wrong? I thought you wanted us to get along liv?” She tried to move but his heavy arms and rough hands wouldn’t allow that. She knew what he was now, he no longer made any attempt to hide it. 

“I've missed you liv…you really thought you could live here with whoever these punks are?” he teased, stroking a warm, stolen hand down her cheek.  She flinched away as a tear hurried  down her face.  His feet inched closer to hers, he forced deans steel-toed boots on the hard plastic of her brace. She made an attempt to scream only to have a hand placed over her mouth.  She side eyed the glass she had gotten out that was now sitting on the floor beside the fridge. She moved her un injured foot to move the glass. Whilst her trapped leg was attempting to move, the false impression of Dean was busy with his teeth and lips against her skin and his fingers toying with the top of her waistband. She inched her foot just close enough for her to hear the clear glass clatter against old tiles. She silently thanked whoever may have been listening. The mimics eye’s shot up to Oliva’s face with anger filling his irises, a grim smile spreading through his cheeks. Upon hearing the ringing of never used glass, Sam and Dean both shot out of their beds and into the kitchen, both of them accompanied by a firearm. At first glance the men were confused…why would Oliva have a man with her? Since when did she ever have guests? Oliva’s eyes locked with her friend’s hazel eyes. Sam could see the discomfort in her eyes and acted as quickly as he stormed through the doorway. 

“Hey!” he shot his gun toward the cupboard in a means to scare the man away, disgust laced both of the men's faces as a wild eyed dean turned to face them. 

“Sammy?! What the hell?!” he exclaimed using Dean's nickname to his advantage. Although they weren’t fooled it surely riled them up.  

Dean rushed forward, having a knack for fighting first and asking later. He grabbed his double by the collar of his flannel shirt and hooked him across the jaw. Oliva took the opportunity to inch off to  the way to the other side of the kitchen, pulling up her now falling pant waistband. She huddled herself into a corner behind the kitchen table. Once the double was subdued, Sam wasted no time putting a bullet through its chest, leaving a scorching hole in its wake. Dean stood looking at the creature as Sam rushed to his cowering friend. He crouched down to meet her distant eyes. 

“oliva..It’s gone. I got it, you're safe.” he tried to comfort but she made no assimilation of his words. Dean strode over to the pair, his eyes falling on his brother saying hushed conformations of safety. Dean reached down and wiped his palms on his pajama pants, not attempting to break the thick tension formed by his out of place presence by the pair. 

“ I’m going to run out to get some cleaning supplies…do either of you want anything?” Sam stopped his murmurs and side eyes his brother at his out of touch question. 

“No dean..'' Sam grumbled, immediately turning his face back to Oliva. Oliva paid the true dean no attention, just as he expected. Dean ran to the store and upon his arrival he spotted small trinkets that reminded him of Oliva. 

A few weeks into staying with the brothers they had made it clear that she was free to decorate her room as much or as little as she’d like.

“We have plenty of rooms, seriously it’s no issue,” Sam said with a slight chuckle in his voice over her excessive conformations. Day by day her room slowly filled with small stuffed animals and notebooks she used to write and study in. As much as Sam and Dean dreaded encountering the things they had to, Oliva still owned some of her childish whimsey for the supernatural and the fantastical.  While the Winchesters were figuring out how much salt they needed to buy, Olivia was researching their cases to find the new main character of her short stories. She found one case about supposed imaginary friends who helped kids. That story consisted of the human main character being herself, and what she would have loved to experience as a kid. Not that her childhood was awful, she just felt it would be nice to have a friend who would always have her best interest in mind. It’s easy to say that Dean did not love the idea of her romanticizing their lifestyle, although Sam enjoyed reading her works when he was allowed. 

Dean walked through the isles, picking up a pack of colored pens and placing them in the basket before he could tell himself off. By the time Dean got back home he saw Sam standing against the kitchen table, his head in his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose. Dean set his supplies on the table, quickly stealing away the bright pens from on tops of the bleach and baking soda. As Dean went to leave, Sam placed a hand on his chest, restricting him from leaving the room yet.

“Just a warning…she has no interest in seeing you right now so just please be vigilant and be careful not to scare her.'' Dean understood and walked away, sliding the book of pens under her door before entering his own room and deciding to get dressed for the day as it was now around four in the morning. Dean made his way to the library to begin looking for books on protection spells and items.  From the library Dean could hear his brother speaking outside of Olivia’s room trying to reason for her. 

“I-i refilled your cup with coffee if you want it… I'll be in the library if you need me.” he lightly knocked his knuckles against the wooden door before walking away to meet his brother. 

“what are you still doing awake? I figured you'd be sleeping till dinner as usual.” Dean made an exasperated face at his brother..

“How much of a dick do you really think I am? Our friend was just attacked, Sammy! Obviously I’m going to try to help from as much distance away as necessary.” he argued, clearly distraught by the whole situation. Sam's eyebrows peaked at the term with which Dean used to refer to olivia. 

“ not that there's anything wrong with it but since when are you two friends? You act like you hate her.'' Dean couldn’t truly answer because he didn’t know why that term came to mind, sammy was right they weren't friends. Dean sighed and rubbed his forehead with exasperation.

“ I don't know Sammy, I just, I don't know… as much as i hate to admit it she’s been here long enough that I've had no choice but to kind of get to know her. She’s a sweet girl but she doesn’t deserve our shit or whatever curse hangs over everyone we’ve ever met. But it’s clear y'all get on well…if she’s your family then i have no choice…she’s family sammy.” Sam knew his brother was never good at expressing his emotions, he would put Dean in therapy against his will if he could. Samuel really appreciated the honesty from his older brother, it was always a 50/50 chance of dean opening up. Now Sam's only hope was that when the time came that dean would be equally as open with Olivia. However, to Sam, it was always obvious when the dean wanted to express remorse or sympathy. He never upfront spoke his mind but you may find extra food on your plate or the promise of a shotgun on a supply run. His brother was a simple man who wanted nothing more than to protect people and to be appreciated. Once again Sam knew his brother would never admit it but he knew Dean had always wanted to be taken care of by someone with the same amount of concern he wanted to show others. 

It had been days of Oliva holed up in her room, she began to feel more and more disgusting the longer she went without the strength to wash the stolen fingerprints off of her body. She looked around her once tranquil room to see piles of  dirty mugs that once held sweet coffee that has now become sticky sugar residue at the bottom of the cup, as it had quickly become the only thing she’d consume, beside the mugs on her nightstand sat a package of gel pens. She couldn’t sleep. She would close her eyes only to be greeted with a slideshow of the many stolen windows to his empty soul that he had used against her. She didn’t quite know where she was planning on going when she left her room but it didn’t seem as if she had much time to figure it out as she began watching her feet moving without her approval. One thing she did notice, however, was the quiet space that was now replacing her attempted screams in her head. She was safe again. Her brain functioning similar to how it had when she was captive, She was warm and she was content. She watched as her feet moved across the wood to the kitchen. Her body was hungry although she wasn’t craving anything. Sam sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper when Olivia finished her slow journey to the kitchen. Sam eyebrows nearly shot off of his face with how surprised he was at her evening appearance. Did she even know it was evening?  He had not seen his friend in days,

“Hey! How’re you feeling?” He knew it was hardly a question that needed answering, however after knowing Olivia for a while he knew how much of a burden she hated to be. He wanted her to know he didn’t view her any differently, he was her friend, and she deserved to still feel like one. Olivia seemed to take in Sam's presence which received very little reaction. She gave him a small smile that reached nowhere near her eyes. Sam’s eyes secretly raked over her pitiful form, taking in the residue left on her skin from her attacker. His teeth imprinted on her jugular, he could imagine the  fingerprints burned into her hips like the aftermath of a close range explosion, her skin a concrete wall covered in shadows 

“Me and Dean just went shopping, I could make you something to eat if you’d like.” Olivia backed herself behind a door in her spectral world, suddenly she was the one looking through her eyes, staring back at Sam like a lost child. She figured that there was nothing wrong with that, it worked for her when she lived with him, she could be safe again. 

“You know what, that sounds great sammy. Thank You,” she spoke happily, much to Sam's shock. Sam moved to the fridge to scan the groceries. Dean had clearly already been in there, Sam swore his brother was a man akin to a yogi bear. 

Sam watched carefully between spreads of peanut butter as he noticed her become utterly indifferent. He was surprised to see how relaxed she was as  his brother walked in through the door, grunting as he kicked mud off of his boots. Dean's eyes turn sullen at the seemingly in shock woman that sat further into the kitchen. Sam could cut the tension in the room with the butter knife he was holding. 

“Sandwich?” sam asked awkwardly, dean nodded slightly waving to Olivia. Much to deans surprise she waved back, only a little. His heart constricted at the sight of her, he wished sam hadn’t allowed the two of them to get attached. Dean almost wished he had the capacity to kick her to the curb like a puppy that just showed up one day, hell she had the eyes to match. 

“I could eat.” He spoke like a normal, casual Dean. It brought Olivia some solace to see the real dean again. The dean who could care less if she were a victim or not, the Dean who could care less about her being around. After eating dinner  Olivia decided to lay on the couch and rest, watching t.v to pass the time. Sam and Dean stuck around the kitchen to chat. 

“What hell is up with her?” Dean asked, suspicious of their guest’s sudden relaxed appearance.  Sam pursed his lips into a line and sighed. 

“Honestly Dean, I have no idea. She just walked out of her room, she didn’t even say anything. She seems fine to me.” Dean nodded as if he was ,ocking his brother’s obvious observation.

“Yeah no shit, It's weird. Most victims that we deal with don't take monster attacks very well.” They both Walk out to the living room to find a sleeping Olivia. Dean nodded his head towards her but Sam put a hand out, and pulled a blanket off the top of the couch to cover her with.

“just let her sleep. I doubt she’s getting enough,” Dean backed up slightly allowing his brother to get past him to head to bed. 

“Right. Night sammy…” he looked towards Olivia again, “ Night live,” with the final goodbye, he too walked to bed, truing on a lamp in the dark room before fully exiting. The time was roughly 5:00 A.M when dean woke up to use the bathroom. He doesn’t fully know what compelled him but he decided to dip into the living room to check on Olivia. She was tossing ever so slightly in her sleep. He walked over to her quietly, gently placing his rough hands on her shoulders. 

“Oliva…” he whispered to her as he carefully shook her. She opened her eyes although it was clear to him that she was not looking at him, in his eyes she saw someone else's. She wasn’t in the bunker, she was in her prison, lying atop a soiled mattress that god only knows how many other women were laid upon. She didn’t yell out like he expected her to, instead she simply laid back down against the couch and stared ahead to the ceiling.  

“Olivia?” he spoke worriedly, kindly taking a step back. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her knees parted. Dean shifts his gaze around before looking at the lamp on the side table. Moving slowly he turns on the small table lamp, a yellow glow reflecting onto the scrunch faced of the traumatized woman.  He wasn’t ready to help, he truly didn’t think he knew how. He fought things physically, not with chick flick moments. As uncomfortable as he felt he took a seat on the floor, his back pressing against the front of the couch. Dean carefully took Oliva’s hand, slowly enough to give her the time to pull away. She allowed him to take her limp hand. He gripped her cold digits in his warm calloused ones, with a firm squeeze he spoke, he admired her chipped fingernail polish as he did so, it was his favorite color. 

“ I uh, I don’t really know how much of this you’ll hear but I want you to know that you’re safe…I’m sorry that he hurt you…clearly more than either me and Sammy ever knew… I’m not the best at this kind of thing,” he chuckled and continued, “ but you're not stupid so I don’t know why I’m talking to ya like you wouldn’t have known that.”  Word by word the tangled remnants of Oliva’s memories, she can hear dean’s voice slowly breaking through. She felt the strong yet gentle grasp of his hand grounding her, a stray tear slipped down her cheek, she knew she wasn’t supposed to cry but her mind slipped. She wasn’t in the presence of false love like she assumed, she was with Dean…Dean cared, she figured.  He was still rambling as she began to see who was really besides her. Dean feels her shift, he turns his gaze towards her, he cheeks stained in memories and salt.  

“Olivia…are you, uh ok?'' Dean struggled to confirm, suddenly feeling awkward. She weakly nods as she takes the time to truly hear his voice, Dean’s real voice. He rubbed the back of his neck as he weakened his grip on her hand. 

“Would you like water or something?” he asked in a tone suggesting that he’s considering going back to his brash and uncaring nature that he usually exudes. Once again she nods, still safely quiet. He lets go, her skin craving his warmth. He turns around to head back out to the living room with the glass only to find the smallest looking version of his guest facing him, he jacket bundled around her body, edge seems gripped in her uncherished fingers. Dean took a moment to smile at her as if he hadn’t seen her fearful of him as he handed her the glass. A shaky hand reached out to grab the glass from his hands. As much as Olivia’s subconscious was screaming at her about her vicinity to Dean, she took a deep breath as she set the glass down on the counter and gently walked towards Dean with her arms outstretched. Offering the confused man a hug of appreciation . her weak arms barely wrapped around his torso, his hands gripping his flannel robe, she enjoyed that he smelled like beer, car oil, and  3-in-1 soap. He gently put his arms on her back, carefully rubbing up and down. Without letting go of her he asked gently,

“Do ya want to go back to bed?�� He made it sound as if he no longer wanted to be the gentle caring man that bought her pens and held her hand. She swiftly shows her head side to side in objection. He immediately backtracked his idea.

“Alright uhhh…hungry?” She furrowed her brows, thinking, before nodding her head against his chest. He carefully pried their bodies apart and looked at her. 

“Let me grab my keys.” She stood right where he had left her before coming back with the baby's keys. He slowly got her outside and into his baby, she’s never sat in the passenger seat before since it was always reserved for sam. Dean eventually drove the two of them to the diner down the road, internally Olivia saw it and thought it was a shit show…it was going to be amazing, or at least that's what the boys have taught her. The pair was sitting in a cold booth at the back of the restaurant, Dean with a black coffee in front of him and an omelet with extra meat, and Oliva with a stack of chocolate chip pancakes with a large vanilla milkshake. Whipped cream was her favorite part. Dean had begun to notice that she became much more childlike as she became more comfortable. Olivia, seemingly out of the blue, looked at dean.

“I can repay you when we get back to the bunker, I-I don’t have my wallet.” Dean held up a hand to signal for her to drop the topic.

“You don’t gotta do  that, we’re good.” Oliva seemed uncomfortable with that conclusion, she looked at him a tad longer before placing a whipped cream covered cherry on his plate, one she was clearly planning on saving for herself. Dean fought a smile, at  the sweet, meaningful gesture, he nodded at her, satisfied. 

This is my first story on here and my first ever fanfic, I hope Y'all liked it, feedback is always appreciated <3

[unbrokenbitch]

Salvation For the Damaged (D.W) Dean Winchester x OC - I'm Begging for You to Take my Hand Wreck My Plans (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1191771256-salvation-for-the-damaged-d-w-dean-winchester-x-oc?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=L0veMeS0meDeanW&wp_originator=R2fmUKpifQo9o5y3bkx9j09ApbcFCH%2BHnLYdE%2BiGovZz%2Fh0Xziho5L2a38KHUeum666JHI1CB1yu%2F6bvp8favZexjAl7%2FlzAPNMrIn%2B5T1cDRdm19E%2FawYjkumeVMdDy Dean Winchester x Original Character "Can we get some constancy in my life? Some balance? Let me live or let me die. Everytime I die, someone raise me from the dead. Everytime I get back, something tries to kill me."

[jules-s-winchester]

In the beginning

I think you’re adorable- supernatural rewrite

Tears streamed down my face, I covered my mouth with my hand in order to stifle the sobs. I was hiding in my closet, praying, hoping the monster wouldn't find me. I heard the door to my room open and my eyes squeezed shut. I heard footsteps, walking towards me. Then suddenly, they stopped. I opened my eyes again to see if he was there. If it, was there. All of a sudden, the closet doors flew open. My father stood there smiling, or what looked like my father. His eyes turned black and chills ran down my spine. Blood covered his shirt where my mother had stabbed him. Mommy. Just thinking of her made more tears leak from my eyes. He continued walking towards me, I screamed. This was it. I was going to die. He reached towards me and roughly grabbed me, pulling me out of the closet and holding me up in the air.

"Any last words?" he asked in my father's voice.

All I could do was force out a choked sob. I didn't know what was happening. I just wanted my mommy and daddy. Suddenly, The door was kicked open, I looked over and saw Mr. John,  a gun in his hands.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica." John screamed, his gun pointing at the monster. It made a horrible noise, screaming and looking as if it were fighting something.

"Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te...cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare...Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis..."  John continued as the monster opened its mouth, black smoke coming from his mouth. I wasn't listening, all I could hear was the blood pumping in my ears. Eventually my father's body fell to the floor, and I with it.

"Daddy?" I cried, the tears continued to fall.

"Julia sweetheart we have to go, I'm so sorry" John said, coming over to me and wrapping his arms around me. He picked me up despite my pleading and walked out of the room, leaving my father's body behind.

[waywardbeanie]

A Man of Letters....Coming Soon

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It started as a simple hunt for Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean didn’t realize that this single case would change his life forever. Now they are on the biggest mission of their lives, and without the use of cellphones, the only way he can communicate with the love of his life is through old fashioned letter writing. He has done everything in his power to keep her safe, but will it be enough?

Series Warnings: Language, angst, smut, alcohol consumption, SPN typical violence (individual chapters will contain relevant warnings)

A/N:  This series has been rattling around in my head for a while. It would never have made it to the light of day if it was not for my beautiful group of friends with whom none of this would be possible! You know who you are and I love you all!

 Masterlist

I do have a tag list open for this, if you want to be tagged - let me know!

Tags: @winchest09 @katehuntington @whatareyousearchingfordean @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @superfanficnatural @deanwanddamons @janicho88 @talesmaniac89 @anathewierdo

[sinfulsoulx]

Title: Drawn To The Darkness - Chapter 3

Series: Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Summary: Demon!Dean kidnaps the reader and threatens her life to keep Sammy off his back.

Words: 1′464

Warnings: Kidnap(in general), language, dark flirtation, smooching, slightly smutty talk, alcohol.

Characters: Demon!Dean x Reader

Munnote: Feedback very very welcome, I’m loving this mini-series if I’m honest! Willing to do a chapter 4 if there’s some interest <3

Dean pushed you back against the wall, regaining whatever control you had dared to take. His tongue invaded your mouth until he drew back with his teeth clamping down on your lower lip. You whimpered, he bit hard enough to draw a drop of blood which he sucked into his mouth.

With a hum and a dark rooted chuckle, he released your lower lip and pushed his forehead against yours. “I can hear your heartbeat. How it picked up its pace in the last few seconds. I told you, you would warm up to me...” He purred, sliding a hand down your side.

... You breathed out slowly. The tilt in your chin searching for his lips the second they parted away. His voice, his touch, you were drawn in. But. Your head began to shake as your chest heaved and you pushed him away and stepped back against the wall, fingers splaying out against the plaster as you locked a wide-eyed expression onto his.

 “I’m drunk.” You whispered the pitiful protest. You weren’t. Drunk, that was - you were just s h o c k e d. Perhaps even a p p a u l e d by your own behaviour. Who gets kidnapped and then wants to get off with said kidnapper? Surely someone very, very wrong in the head. You would laugh if you weren’t completely stilled and absolutely petrified of his next move. 

Demons didn’t care, right? Couldn’t. There was nothing stopping him taking you if he wanted, and would it be your fault? Leading him on? Enticing him? Jesus Christ, did moral rules even apply in a situation like this? Especially when you realised, you did, in fact, want him. No, correction, you needed him. At least that’s what your body was telling you. 

This past week you’d be lying if you told yourself your eyes hadn’t wandered his figure, even admired his shape, the way his muscles flexed when he moved. Just because he was a demon didn’t mean you couldn’t look. You weren’t blind, he was fucking hot. 

No, second correction, he was built like a god damn greek god and you’d damn yourself to hell with him just to swipe a cheeky tongue up his abs. Wait what? You shook those thoughts away and found yourself frowning deeply as you watched Dean nod and walk away. Straightening up, your eyes followed him and you watched him pour himself a generous amount of whiskey. He even took a seat and put the TV on. What the fuck? 

“Is that it?” You scoffed. The words flew out your mouth before you could stop them. “Is what it?” Dean didn’t even look at you, his eyes focused on the screen as if he couldn’t give a shit. “You’re not even going to-” you paused, thought about not saying it, but what the hell... “You’re not even going to try and convince me to carry on?” 

You folded your arms, even felt fucking offended that he continued to sit there and chuckle. “What, I’m fucking amusing to you now? Oh yeah, poor, sad, desperate Y/N, can’t even get a soulless thing to want her.” You spat, stomping towards him just to snatch the bottle beside him. 

“Is that what you think?” Dean chuckled some more which only served to fuel your bitterness as you made it known by dropping down on the bed with force. “That’s what happened.” You muttered, unscrewing the cap and taking two or three gulps from the whiskey bottle. 

Throwing your head back against the pillow with your eyes shut, you hadn’t even noticed Dean move until you felt the dip in the bed. Your eyes shot open to find him sitting next to you, that stupid smirk plastered on his lips, crinkling the corners of his green eyes that glimmered with amusement. 

“I could convince you.” He tilted his head, reached for the bottle in your grasp and took it from you. “But I’d rather not need to.” He added, causing your brows to knit together. As he wrapped his lips around the bottle, you found your eyes pulled towards the action. He had nice lips, they felt softer than you’d imagined. Which of course, you had. No use denying it now. 

“What does that mean?” A simple enough question, you thought, sitting up with your arms crossed. “It means I want you when you fully accept that you want me. When you’re not drunk on whiskey and making bold moves after five days of silence.” He chuckled. That smart ass, cocky chuckle. 

“What it means, Y/N, is that I think you’d look really good pleading for me just to touch you.” Dean’s tone darkened and your jaw swung open. God damn, he had that sexy gravel in his tone that made your stomach flip. Honestly, at this moment, you questioned whether there was anything you wouldn’t let him do to you. 

“Oh.” Was all you could manage. You noticed that his eyes hadn’t moved from yours and though you felt like you could combust just from his stare, you didn’t look away either. “Oh.” Dean grinned, all teeth and charm. He looked so... Boyish. So human. 

But of course, it only put the fact he wasn’t to the front of your mind. “You sound so sure that’ll happen.” You noticed, finding his confidence quite irritating. “It won’t.” You tightened your lips and scoffed when he openly laughed at you. 

“It will, In-fact, I’m willing to bet it could happen right now. Maybe if I just told you where I’d like to put my mouth.” Dean twisted and placed a hand on your thigh, causing your eyes to look straight down. “Or how I’d use my tongue.” 

You felt the redness creep up your neck. His words made your thoughts impure, which you imagined was his goal. He was right, you could so easily just dive on him right now, but you were also stubborn. You just told him it wouldn’t happen, no way could you go back on that in under a minute. 

“Nice try.” Pushing his hand off your thigh, you dared to look up and point to the other side of the room. “Your bed is over there, black eyes.” There was an assertive tone to your voice that contradicted the pool of desire in your stomach. 

Dean’s smirk returned and in a sudden move, he shot forward, eyes as black as ink. “Boo.” He taunted, the whole move making you gasp and fall back against the pillow. He chuckled and stood up, sauntering off towards his bed and suddenly you felt like you were right not to let him into your pants. 

“Fucking asshole.” You said out loud, huffing and puffing until you got comfortable. “I think I liked it better when you didn’t talk, at least your insults were only in your mind.” He was still chuckling. Like you were so incredibly amusing to him. Maybe when he looked at you all he saw was a dancing clown there to bring some hilarity to his day?

What you hadn’t even realised was that he’d just told you he could read your thoughts. Maybe tomorrow when the cloud of alcohol lifted you would, or maybe your brain simply wouldn’t allow you to. If you realised then you’d be forced to acknowledge that he knew all about the dirty thoughts you’d been having, which would naturally be absolutely mortifying. 

“I’ll be silent from now on.” You grumbled from under the blanket. Your thighs pressed together and you couldn’t help but sigh. Did you really win this fight? Going to sleep turned on and unsatisfied? It didn’t take long for you to blackout though, falling into a deep slumber.

--

You awoke with a groan and a quiet whimper, your head pounding even before you opened your eyelids. The light blistered through the crack in the curtains and it wasn’t until you really pulled yourself around to a state of consciousness that you noticed something very, very wrong. Those weren’t curtains, this wasn’t your bed.

“What the fuck?” You squeaked. “What the fuck?” You repeated. “Mornin’ sunshine. We’re taking a roadtrip.” A strange voice called from the passenger seat of the moving car. Was he British? He sounded British. The unfamiliar voice made you panic. You didn’t recognise him, nor did you recognise the driver. You did, however, know the man in the back seat with you.

“How did you sleep?” Ah. Dean. You pulled your eyes towards him and breathed a small sigh of relief. At least you hadn’t been kidnapped by another man, right? But... “How did we get here?” You looked around the car, tearing your legs off Dean’s. 

Did he carry you in here? Put your legs on his so you could keep sleeping? How the hell didn’t you wake up? You opened your mouth to say something, only to close it again and give him a silent glare instead. You were tired, confused and quite frankly, grumpy as hell. You weren’t going to rise to the situation. Silence was what you vowed, silent is how you would stay.

“Well, she’s a peach. Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’re nearly at our destination. You can tend to your needs whilst we tend to our business.” The British man twisted around, holding out a hand in a gesture for you to shake it. “Name’s Crowley.” 

TAGS;

@dean-winchesters-bacon @closetspngirl @fangirlanotherjust @familybusinesswritingbro

[blackmissfrizzle]

The Read

Title: The Read

Pairing: Dean x Black!Reader, Sam

Word Count: 1148

Summary: The reader finds a way to pass time in the car and now Dean wants to join in

Warnings: None. Just a couple of f bombs. 

A/N: This is my first ever fic and I’m super nervous about it, but proud of my work. Feel free to critique! This is for all my black girls who love Supernatural, but don’t see themselves that much on the show or read it in fanfiction. Also shoutout to @thisistheread, the best podcast out there!

A/N: I know it’s not a writing challenge for @spnfanficpond but I just wanted to tag y’all.

What’s one of the most things you hate about hunting? The drive. Who really wants to be stuck in the car for hours on end? Then there’s only so much arguing with Dean about who’s the better Avenger, between Captain America and Ironman (Team Cap all day), and geeking out with Sam you could do. And most of the time you were stuck in the backseat, unless Sam stayed back for a hunt and with Dean being so neurotic about Baby you never got to drive her, and you’re a better driver than Sam!

But the worst thing about the drive was, THE FUCKING MUSIC! Its like Dean never heard of music past the 80s. And it was all classic rock, not even one fucking blues song! Sometimes you wondered how you two were compatible as a couple, a 40-year-old white dude from the Midwest and a 25-year-old black girl from the South. There was some songs you could belt out with Dean, like You Shook Me All Night Long, or the stripper anthems like, Cherry Pie and Pour Some Sugar On Me (Dean had a newfound love for those songs since you gave him a lap dance to them a couple of weeks ago).  

Today was one of those days you could not listen to another AC/DC album again or you would start banging your head against Baby’s window. But thank God… or is it Chuck (you’re just gonna keep it with God, because you wouldn’t even want to know what your southern Baptist mother would do if she knew you were calling God, Chuck).

Anyways, thank God you were behind on your favorite podcast due to all day and night research on how to get Michael out of Dean. Soon as you realized you had at least another 8 hours on the road, you popped your headphones in and got ready to listen to Kid Fury and Crissle on The Read, talk shit about celebrities, tell women to break up with their triflin’ ass boyfriends, and of course read people to filth.

You were two episodes in when Dean snatched your headphones out. “What the fuck, dude!?” You yelled as you smacked Dean across the head. “Whatcha you listening to that gots you laughing so hard that you’re not listening to your kick-ass boyfriend’s story about how he ganked Hitler?” Rolling your eyes, you replied, “Really, Dean? I was there. And how many times are you gonna tell that story? Its been over a year, get over it!” “It’s a great fuckin’ story.” With a mumble, Sam replied, “Yeah, only the first time.”

“Shut up Sam!”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

You thought you were off the hook when the boys began to argue, but you just had to let out a cackle that might just rival Crissle’s, which cause you to gain your boyfriend’s attention once again. “Hey, you never answered me. Whatcha ya listening to?” “Ummm, a podcast,” you replied in between giggles and not fully giving Dean your attention. But what he said next sure did, “Well, put it on your speaker. I need something to keep me awake and arguing with Sam is not fun anymore.” “Huh?”, you asked sounding like Scooby-Doo and big eyes. “I…said…put…it…on”, Dean said slowly with the flicking of his bottom lip. “Ummm…um…um, are you sure? Its really not for the elderly?”, you said with a smirked. You thought you got him there, now he won’t want to listen. Its not that your ashamed of the show, it’s the quite opposite, but how do you introduce a black as podcast to your white ass boyfriend that you loved dearly? “You weren’t calling me elderly last night, when I had your legs-““Whoa, whoa, whoa, dude I don’t want to hear about that”, Sam interrupting Dean talking about your latest sexcapades. “Well tell Y/N to play the podcast or I’ll tell you one of her most embarrassing sex stories”, Dean threatened playfully.

“You wouldn’t dare!”, you gasped

Then, Dean began his countdown “In 3…”

“Whatever man, you not gonna do it”

“2…”

“Are you serious”

“1…”

“Babe, pleeeeeease don’t”, you whimpered.

“0. Well, Sammy there was this one time when Y/N/N was in Vegas-“

“Ok, asshole! I’ll play it, but you gotta promise not to get offended, because I don’t have time for your white tears!”

“What the hell is white tears?”

“If you listen long enough, you’ll find out. Now be quiet, they’re just getting to the good stuff.”, you ordered as you hooked up your phone to the Bluetooth speaker.

You catch yourself not even pay attention to the podcast, but to the boys’ reactions. It was your favorite portion, the listener letters, which most of the time is about the listeners asking advice about their ain’t shit boyfriends. But as Crissle began reading the first question, you stopped paying attention to the boys and gave Crissle your full and undivided attention. The listener was a girl who broke up with her boyfriend who cheated on her with her best friend and gave her a STD, but couldn’t move out of their shared apartment because they shared a lease (Whew…chile, let Dean try something like that and the world would have one less Winchester).

After hearing the letter, you were thinking of your own advice you would give to the listener, but Kid Fury’s next joke had you spitting out your water and the whole car erupting in laughter, “Just kill him.” Before you missed anything else you had to pause the show and once there was silence Dean and Sam turned to you, “Hey! Why’d you turn it off?” “Um, because I refuse to miss another gem like that,” with a roll of your eyes. “Now shut the fuck up, so we can enjoy this masterpiece.” And that’s exactly what the boys did for the next 4 hours except for a couple of full bellied laughs and everyone’s take on what the listeners should do.

Once you guys reached your destination, you felt the most relaxed you had in weeks and you hadn’t even started the hunt yet. Heading into the motel room Dean swung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him, “That was great, sweetheart. I really needed that.  We can listen to it on the way back home.” “Probably not. We caught up and episodes come out on Thursdays and today is Friday. Sorry babe.” When you told Dean this, he looked like a toddler who was about to cry because he got his favorite lollipop taken away. Thinking quick on your feet you offered, “Oh we can just listen to Whorible Decisions.”

“Whorible Decisions,” Dean questioned.

“Yeah its all about sex, and we can ruin sweet, Sammy’s virgin ears,” you mischievously smirked.

“Oh, hell yeah!” Dean screamed.

Shaking your head, you knew you created a monster at that moment and you loved it.

[ladywinchester1967]

Cover art for “His Good Girl: Part III” coming later this week!!!! #HisGoodGirl #deanwinchester #deanwinchesterfanfic

[unbrokenbitch]

Salvation For the Damaged - Our Hearts Are (Not) Footloose (on Wattpad) http://my.w.tt/UiNb/RK4bPECrQD Dean Winchester x Original Character "Seriously. One minute I was the queen of boredom, the next, everything everyone were trying to protect me from is thrown in my face without a simple "may I come in". Lucifer is more polite than life. Believe me, I know. But let's not jump start, let's explore the only thing I can right now. My memories. Holy cow. That's a deep dark hole. For now, let's go back to the very beginning." deanwinchester #fanfiction #dean #fic #fanfic

[jules-s-winchester]

I think you’re adorable- Masterlist

Dean Winchester and Julia Singer have known each other their whole lives. When John Winchester goes missing Dean not only gets the help of Sam but Julia as well. Only problem is John doesn’t want to be found

A supernatural rewrite

Julia Singer x Dean Winchester (eventual)

Warnings: Violence, swearing, angst, sexual content. 

Chapter one - In the beginning 

Chapter two - could have knocked  

Chapter three- Sammy 

Chapter four- Pilot 

[katymacsupernatural]

Black

Sister Reader x Sam and Dean Winchester

2200 Words

Warnings: Demon Dean, little bit of Angst, Asthma attack (Which I’ve never had so I hope it’s written okay!)

Summary:  Set during Season 10, when Dean is gone. Helping Sam look for her brother, the Reader gets into trouble, bringing out the big brother mode in Demon Dean.

It had been days since you had last seen your big brother, and you were starting to get frantic. Especially since the last time he had been laying on his bed in the bunker, dead from Metatron stabbing him in the chest. Yet, here you were, trying to find him, wondering if somehow a Demon had possessed him. You wanted nothing more than to bring your brother back, or his body if he was truly possessed.

That's why you were in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere, getting a room in the only motel around. Sam, your other brother had called you earlier, saying he was on his way. Making you promise that you wouldn't make a move without him. Of course he would want that. You were the youngest of the three Winchesters, and both brothers were extremely protective over you. Like that one time, a year ago, when that boy thought he could break your heart. After your brothers had heard about him, that boy never showed his face around you again.

The old memories made your heart hurt, knowing that your family, no matter how dysfunctional they were, would probably be knocked down to two family members after you dealt with Dean. So, instead of thinking about how things used to be, you concentrated on the task at hand, trying to convince yourself it was just a normal, every day hunt. Trying to forget the fact that your brother would be willing to kill you at a moments notice.

A loud knock sounded on your door, and in stumbled Sam, looking horrible. His shoulder was still in a sling, but he was bruised and beat up, and you were worried that one wrong look would send him falling to the ground. His face was covered in bruises, and had a grimace instead of his usual smile he gave you. "Sam, what happened?" You asked, rushing forward trying to help him to a chair but he just shrugged you off.

"Crazy man attacked me, wanted to use me as bait for Dean." Sam explained, before glancing out the window, checking to make sure he hadn't been followed. "I got away, but it seemed too easy. Like he wanted me to."

"You ever see him before?" You questioned.

Sam shook his head before taking a deep breath, trying to calm down. "No. But that's not important. I've found out where Dean has been hanging out. Seems like him and Crowley just had a falling out."

Nibbling on your lip, you weren't sure you wanted to bring up the question bothering you. But you had to know, even if it killed you. "Sam, is Dean...I mean...he can't be, can he?" You stuttered, unable to get the words out.

With a sad shake of his head, Sam confirmed your fears. "No!"

"I'm sorry Y/N. I know Dean was always your knight in shining armor. But, he's a Demon now, and I'm not sure how much help we will be to him."

You refused to give up on your brother. Not meaning anything bad to Sam, but Dean had always been the one you were closest to, the one you went to for anything, and it had almost killed you when he had died. "The Men of Letters have that cure!" You exclaimed.

"It's worth a try." Sam agreed, before heading back to the door. "But we need to get moving now, before he realizes we're in town. We'll take your car, just in case we've been followed."

Shrugging on your coat, you tucked your favorite gun in it's pocket before taking the keys off of the table. Heading outside, you unlocked your Baby, the Chevelle that Bobby used to drive. He had been like a father to you, and he had gifted it to you on your 20th birthday. Patting it fondly on it's roof, you climbed inside, watching as Sam folded his long body into the passenger seat. "Where to?"

____________________________________________

Only a short drive later and you were pulling up next to a familiar looking black car. But this one had your heart breaking as you took in it's dusty exterior, with mud caked on the fenders. As you stepped out of your car, you saw the interior hadn't fared much better. Take Out containers were thrown haphazardly in the back, along with whiskey bottles, and what looked like a pair of women's underwear. "You poor thing." You whispered to the car, even though it couldn't hear you.

"So Y/N, I want you to stay behind me at all times. Who knows what he will be like." Sam ordered as he pulled out the Men of Letters handcuffs, along with some holy water, tucking them into his coat. Silently following him inside, you were surprised to see the bar was empty, not a soul insight.

Rounding the corner, you could just make out the faint sound of someone running their fingers along a piano's keyboard, before the opening sounds of a familiar song started playing. "Hey Jude?" You whispered, earning a hush from Sam.

"There's no use hiding. I knew you would be coming Sammy. Just didn't expect you to drag Y/N into it." Dean's voice, eerily calm and disconnected sounded as the piano stopped. Looking around Sam, you noticed Dean immediately, sitting at the piano, the first blade in his hands. His face was cold, his look full of hatred as he stared at Sam.

"He didn't drag me into it. I wanted to get my brother back." You said, stepping to the side of Sam, who shook his head no at your movements.

"Y/N, I already warned Sam what would happen if he didn't let me go. Don't make me warn you too." Dean growled, standing up and moving closer to you. Your body was tense, as you waited for his move, waited to see if he would attack either one of you.

"Dean, you're my brother, and I love you. Please, come home." You begged, to which he just laughed, an evil sounding chuckle that brought shivers down your back.

"Home? To the bunker? Yeah right. I'm happy right where I am." He announced, taking a healthy sip of whiskey.

"Dean, please. Let's do this the easy way." Sam spoke up, pulling out the handcuffs and holding them up.

Before any of you could continue the conversation, you heard an intrusion from the back of the bar, what sounded like a window shattering. "What the?" Sam muttered, his attention off of Dean for a moment, and Dean jumped at the chance. Wrapping his arms around Sam's neck, he squeezed tight, his lips moving next to his brother's ear. You couldn't hear the words he was saying, but you could see the utter hatred on his face, and you knew they weren't kind.

Rushing forward to help your brother, well trying to keep one brother from killing the other, you stopped when you smelled something that hadn't been there just seconds earlier. Glancing behind you, your eyes widened when you saw a huge cloud of smoke heading your way. Panicking, you glanced towards Sam and Dean, who were still grappling around, ignoring you and the cloud.

"Sam, Dean!" You exclaimed, knowing you needed to get out of the bar immediately. You had severe asthma, and in your haste to save your brother, you had left your inhaler in your car. This cloud of smoke was already burning your throat and eyes, and you could feel your chest start to tighten up. "Help!"

"Y/N, get out of here!" Sam yelled, before elbowing Dean. Racing towards the exit, your chest grew tighter and tighter, every breath painful. Seconds later, you couldn't get a breath of air past your swollen throat, and you brought your hands up around your neck, panicking at the feeling of suffocation.

Stumbling into a table, your eyes clouded with black dots, you felt your body weakening, and you dropped to your knees, completely surrounded by the horrid smoke. Your last thoughts of how you had failed your brother, how you wouldn't be able to see Dean back at the bunker. A tear trickled down your cheek that you had come so close to saving Dean, but now Sam might be the only Winchester to survive.

As you felt your eyes drift shut, your chest burning for a gasping breath of clean, fresh air, you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around you, picking you up and cradling you. Your head lolling to the side, it was jostled with each rough step until you were outside, free of the smoke. Still, you were so far into your Asthma attack that even the fresh air wasn't doing anything.

You were carefully laid on the ground, whoever had rescued you leaving you on the concrete. Feeling yourself starting to fade away, you were suddenly picked up, your inhaler forced in between your blue tinted lips. The medicine was injected into your lungs, fighting against the swollen muscles in your throat. Again, medicine was forced into your mouth, and soon the tightness in your chest passed, and you took a deep, hurtful breath.

"Again. Take another breath." A deep voice, one that you hadn't expected to hear helping you said close to your head. Following orders, you took another breath, opening your eyes just in time to see another man, with military style clothing and haircut grabbing at Dean, pulling him away from you.

Leaning back against the wall, weak and ready to pass out at any moment, you watched as Dean taunted the man, both men circling each other, getting ready to fight. Each breath still painful, you pressed a hand to your chest as you watched the man lunge towards your brother, and Dean's eyes turn a terrifying shade of black. Hearing the man exclaim, "What the hell are you?" You weren't surprised at the answer.

Again and again they circled each other, Dean having no trouble with the man's sorry attempts at fighting him. With a growl, Dean shoved the man, and he went flying through the air, landing on the windshield of a car, shattering it in the process.

It was then Sam showed up, a gash on his forehead, his eyes frantic as they looked around the alley. When they landed on you he breathed a sigh of relief, noticing your inhaler in your hands. Dean hadn't noticed Sam yet, but was coming over to you, a concerned look on his face, even though his eyes were still black as night. "Y/N, are you doing better?" He asked, the concern so different from the hatred he had portrayed earlier.

"Yes." You said, your voice hoarse, the words hard to stutter. You felt like a old time smoker, with your sore lungs, and throat.

He came to stand in front of you, as he took his maroon shirt off, wrapping it around your shoulders. "Damn man. He could have killed you. I should run him through with my blade for that."

In a way you found it comforting that Dean could still care about you, even though he was still a Demon. Maybe, there was still a chance of saving him after all. As you reached up to press a hand to his cheek, Sam splashed water over Dean, and you watched his face turn into a mask of pure anger and pain. Hissing as his skin steamed, he turned to lash out at the new attacker. Sam was ready, and snapped the handcuffs on each wrist, locking Dean into a spelled hold, one that a Demon wouldn't be able to break out of.

Sam pulled Dean along with him, locking him in the back of the Impala, before coming back to you. Crouching down next to you, he checked you carefully, making sure that you were doing okay. "Damn it Y/N I was so scared. Dean knocked me out, and when I came to, that smoke was everywhere. All I could think about was your asthma, and the fact that you were probably laying on the floor somewhere, suffocating."

You reached your hand up, having Sam help you to your unsteady feet. "It was Dean. He carried me out, got me inhaler." You explained to an incredulous Sam.

"Dean's a Demon. He would have just as soon killed us as help us." Sam argued, as the two of you looked at the angry man in the back of the Impala.

"It was him." You insisted. "Our Dean is still in there. Deep down. He was still my big brother, taking care of me. And now we can take him back to the bunker and get him back."

"I hope so." Sam answered. "It would be nice to have the whole family back again. For a moment there I thought I had lost both of you."

"You almost did. Seconds longer and I would have been a goner. But Dean, as always, came to my rescue, and now it's my turn to come to his. Even if he doesn't realize he needs rescuing yet." You said, before sliding in the driver's seat of your car, planning on following Sam back to the bunker, where you would begin the tedious task of curing your brother.

Tags: @yaya-snowflakes

[sinfulsoulx]

Title: Mischief Managed

Summary: Dean gets blasted by a witch, the lingering aftermath means he has the power to do some ungodly things to you in-front of others. 

Words: 2′538

Warnings: Language, smut (smutty smut y’all. this is your warning)

Characters: Dean x Reader, mentions of Sam Winchester, Crowley, Rowena. 

Mun note: I’m open for requests, you’ll find all possible character fics/imagines in my navi. Feedback is very welcome and much appreciated. If you wish to be tagged in future fics drop me a message.

“Listen, giant,” Rowena scolded the younger Winchester from across the bunker table. “If it was a spell I would know. Your brother will be fine in a couple of days, the witch was an amateur, by hitting Dean with her spell she transferred over some power. All I can sense is a faint buzz, nothing to worry about.” With a roll of her eyes, she sat back in a huff, jingling her witch-y handcuffs. 

“Now Mummy, don’t pout, the deal still stands. Find the spell to lock the Devil away, the chains come off.” Crowley, also seated at the table, sat with a look of smugness towards his mother. 

"See, Sammy. I’ll be fine. We got bigger worries, so, get readin’, all of you.” Dean looked towards the demon and the witch. Meanwhile, you were just sat silently stewing in your own fury. The witch who attacked Dean was your friend, she was every bodies friend. You were furious that she could turn on you all for no reason and even more furious that yet again, Dean could have died. For the sixth time this week. 

Your shoulders were rigid, you hated this war-zone you’d all landed in. Everything was a battle, there was no time to relax, no time to breathe and no time to show how concerned you were. Dean was woven into every cell in your body, the mere thought of losing him was enough to make you want to scream. 

Dean, seated across the table, was watching you, the way you shuffled and shifted, tensed up with every turned page of your research. He frowned to himself. He knew you two hadn’t had much time to talk to each other the last few weeks, never mind anything else. It bugged him as much as it did you, so when your eyes lifted up to grab your beer, he made sure to catch your gaze. 

You offered him a small smile, letting your eyes linger on his long enough to soothe him and bring a softer expression to his sculpted face. Urgh, that stupid, beautiful face. You looked back down to read, even knowing his eyes remained fixed on you. You wondered what he was thinking about for a moment, until a voice appeared inside your head, startling you from your reading. 

“I wish we were alone. And naked. Yeah. Definitely naked. Damn I miss seeing her naked.” Those were Deans thoughts, echoing inside your head, making you practically choke on your beer as you looked at him with a pair of wide eyes. 

Dean frowned, needing a few moments to consider the possibility that you heard him. “Wait, what? Did you hear me? What? No. Don’t be stupid Dean.” He scolded himself, but you heard every word and as Sam asked if you were okay, you just nodded. Really, you were nodding to Dean, whose mouth popped open in shock. 

It didn’t take long for Sam to drift back into his studies, but you continued to just blink towards Dean, wondering what the fuck. “Can they hear me? Hellooooooooooo,” he mentally yelled, eyes drifting between Crowley, Sam and Rowena, who didn’t bat a single eyelid. “Oh this is sweet,” he thought, picking up his beer to take a sip. 

You shook your head, a small smile on your face. You didn’t say anything and figured you were all way too busy to explore this witchy side effect, so you returned back to reading with a small sigh. That was, until Dean’s voice appeared back in your head. “Do you have any idea how much I want to lay you on this table and fuck you senseless? It’s been too long.” His eyes were trained on yours, but you didn’t look up. 

You did blush though, you also stood your book up to try and hide your face from his view. “Would you like that?” He asked, and you looked up to meet his gaze. “Stop it, Dean.” You mentally scolded and both of his brows tweaked up. “I heard that,” he replied to you. This was weird. 

You were both having a conversation without actually opening your mouths and all you could do was hope to Chuck that Dean wasn’t about to use it to his advantage. “Don’t you miss me touching you? My lips against your skin, my cock filling you up?” The smirk on his lips made your eyes widen and cast back down. 

“You do, don’t you?” He chuckled in your head and you pressed your hands to your face, attempting to cover the blush in your cheeks. You tried not to think anything, to not entertain him. You were sat here with three other people, now wasn’t the time to let your thoughts roam. 

“If we were alone, you’d be stripped down and spread across this table. I’d be kissing your neck, biting below your ear just where you like it,” he was clearly going somewhere with this, but a gasp escaped you and your hand came pressing down on that exact spot. “What the fuck, Winchester.” You mentally cursed. 

“You felt that? Oh man, this is my lucky day.” It was like you could hear the glee in his mental voice. “Dean,” you warned, shooting him a brief glare, only to find his green eyes dancing with absolute mischief. Oh boy, you were so screwed. 

“I know you wish we were alone too.” He was so sure, and he was right. “Yeah, but we’re not and you need to stop teasing me.” You countered back, hearing a booming chuckle in your head, bringing a coy smile to your face.

Man, he was ridiculous. Such a boyish, playful soul, you wished he could let that side of him show all the time. “I miss how you taste,” his voice was like a whisper, bringing back the shade of red in your cheeks. 

His words instantly made you think of all the times he did taste you, which you imagined, was exactly what he wanted. “I love the way you squirm under me while I tease you, kissing your stomach, nibbling at your thighs.” 

He was watching your every reaction. You shifted in your seat as you felt as though his teeth were actually grazing your thighs. “I love getting you so worked up that my name comes out as a plea. Because all you want is to feel my mouth in-between your legs. Makes me so hard. You’re perfect,” he purred. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, not daring to look up at him. You tried to pretend you couldn’t hear him, but he knew fine well you could. “I’d love to spread your legs and taste you right now. Just imagine, my tongue sliding up your wet folds and pressing against your clit.” 

His words weren’t alone, the ghost of his tongue caught you by surprise as you felt a little pressure against your clit. You breathed in a shaky breath, gripping your book tighter at the edges. “My fingers massaging your thighs as I swirl my tongue around, just enough to get you to moan and roll your hips.”

“Dean,” you tried to sound like you were warning him. In a way, you were, you’d be so embarrassed if anyone realised what was going on, but damn, it had been so long since you felt his touch, his tongue - how odd it was that he wasn’t actually touching you, but you could feel everything as though he was. 

Dean didn’t listen to your warning, of course, he was enjoying this far too much. He wanted to see just how far he could push you before you cracked. “You’re so hot. I love it when you grind your pussy against my mouth, the way your fingers lock in my hair. The way you moan for me. Only me,” his voice was a seductive whisper. 

That alone would be enough to make you wet, but that, paired with the feeling of his tongue swirling against your clit, your panties were soaked. You needed him. The real him. You needed to touch him. “Dean, please.” You looked up at him, your needy eyes igniting a primal one in his own. 

“Please what?” His head tilted to the side as he looked at you, feigning innocence. But you felt an odd invasion slip inside your walls, the feeling much like that of his fingers and you chocked out a soft mewl. It earned you a brief confused look from Rowena, but you shrugged it off. 

His fingers curled inside you, brushing your g-spot and you pressed the side of your palm against your lips to stifle any noise. “You like that, baby?” Dean licked his lips and you couldn’t now peel your eyes off him. You didn’t want him to stop, but you didn’t want to be caught. 

Your senses were on fire, your hips were almost wriggling on your seat. “I think you’re trying to kill me,” you whispered your thought to him, making him chuckle out-loud. 

He shrugged to Sam who looked up and even started a conversation with him as he continued his torture. You felt a curl in his fingers, his mouth sucking your clit and flicking his tongue in figure eights. “Dean. Dean, stop,” you sounded flustered. At least, you think you did, how could you possibly tell when you weren’t actually talking?

All you knew was, you were barely holding it together. You were struggling to stay quiet and you felt like you were drawing closer and closer to an explosive release. When the conversation between him and his brother ceased, he looked towards you with a smug grin. “I bet you’re soaking.” Dean slowed his torture, allowing you to breathe a little easier, but you could only shake your head at him. 

“I need you. Please. Actually you,” you tried to steady your breathing, tried to plead with him with your eyes. You just wanted to feel him against you, actually touch him. “So you don’t think I should let you cum, here? At this table? Wouldn’t you like that?” He chucked in your head but thank god, he relented. 

You let out an audible, shaky sigh. You felt empty, your stomach all twisted in knots and in dyer need of a fix. “Yep, I can’t stand it either,” he spoke out loud, wiggling the book as if that was what you were sighing about. 

“Beer run?” He asked and you nodded. God, yes. Anything to get out of here. You both stood up and Dean had strategically hid the bulge in his pants with the book he was holding. “We have plenty beer in the fridge,” Sam commented, earning himself a dirty look from you.

“We’re going on a beer run.” Dean patted his shoulder and started walking off. You followed behind, a little wobble in your legs. You went into the garage, far enough away from the crowd and you delivered a push to Dean’s chest. 

“You fucking asshole,” you tried to sound angry, but man, you were too turned on. You clawed him back towards you and pressed your lips in a feverish kiss against his. Dean growled, gaining control with his tongue. “I’ve missed this,” he mumbled against your lips. 

His hands unzipped your skirt and let it drop to your feet. You were tearing at each others clothing right there in the middle of the garage, no care in the world for who could walk in. Once you were stripped down, he picked you up and moved around to the hood of Baby, setting your ass down but keeping your chest against his. 

"Dean,” you sighed, pawing at his back, hooking your legs around his waist. “I know, baby, I know.” He whispered, quite smugly against your lips. He lined the tip of his cock against your entrance, sliding it up and down in a slow, frustrating and teasing rhythm. You moaned and whimpered, dragging your nails down his spine. 

“So wet for me,” he cooed against your ear and finally, you felt the tip of him slide into you. A small sigh of relief escaped you as he moved inch by inch, pulling out half away only to thrust all the way into you. 

You cried out, and he gave you a moment to adjust, tweaking at your nipple with his thumb and finger until you gave him a nod. He moved slow at first, like he was savouring the feel of you around him. His grip on your hips was harsh, his lips against your neck like a slice of heaven. 

It didn’t take long for the pace to speed up, he bounced you up and down on his length and you rolled your hips to meet him thrust for thrust. His name dripped from your lips on a mantra, mixed with your moans as you felt every nerve in your body sparking.

“You feel so good,” he praised, his tone like a primal growl in your ear. You were already so worked up, so needy and so ready for him, your thighs were shaking around him. “Cum for me,” he turned his head to press against yours. 

You caught his gaze, his lusty green hues nearly sending you over right then and there. “Fuck, I love you.” You whispered as he continued to pound into you. Both his hands remained on your hips, but you felt like his fingers were rubbing your clit, bringing a sinful new sound from your lips as you threw your head back.

He kissed at your exposed neck, humming softly as he felt you tighten around him. “Oh fuck, fuck- Dean, I- urrh, Dean,” you cried out, the coil in your body snapping with such force that you stilled momentarily. Your walls clenched around his shaft as you reached your peak, convulsing around him, quivering and jerking in his grasp.

Dean followed not far behind you, spilling his hot seed inside you with a few quiet grunts, thrusting sloppily as you both rode through your high. The moans that dripped from your lips quietened, dulling into whimpers as your hands clawed at his shoulders to keep him close to you. 

“I love you too,” he whispered. You kissed him, hot and heavy through your uneven breath, pausing only to try and re-catch it. Your legs felt like jello, still shaking around his waist. “Do you have any idea how hot you look when you cum?” He smirked, catching your lips with his as he pecked them softly. 

“Gotta say, I’m kinda glad I got hit by that witch now.” He chuckled darkly, sliding himself out of you. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, but he kept a hold of you, keeping you steady. “You don’t need a witchy boost to make me feel like that,” you answered, fluttering your lashes through your love-drunk eyes. It was true after all, Dean could make you crumble with his eyes alone most days. 

“From now on, Devil, witches, apocalypse - it can all wait till we’ve done this at least once a day. These last few weeks have been torture.” He grumbled, kissing your forehead and leaning back to display a boyish smile. 

TAGS;

@teddyboobear

[luxuriousglamour3-blog]

Coincidence

Hey this is part 1 of my fanfic called coincidence! you meet the young Dean winchester while you’re being new to the school. It’s your last year in highschool and you just moved to Kansas. 

Dean Winchester x Reader

replace ______ with your name ;)

word count: 675

Warnings: none that i could think of 

Moving to Kansas, was not exactly what you planned when you thought about your last year in High school. You wanted to spend time with your friends, go to partys and just enjoy the last year of school before going to college.  But now you’re here walking through the Hallway at Spring High and trying to find the office. Going to a new school is always kind of an… adventure. A new building, new teachers and new people. You had your friends back in Florida and missed them already a lot, of course you were excited to meet new people and maybe make some new friends but walking through the crowd of teenagers, you weren’t quite sure if any of them could ever be called your friend.  There were cheerleader girls (you would never be part of them that’s for sure) , nerds and sports fanatics, not the kind of people that you usually would be friends with. As you reached the door of the office, you were already uncertain if you would ever fit in here. After you got your class schedule, you tried to find room c1001. Finding a room in a giant building filled with thousands of people and having no orientation whatsoever, turned out to be much more difficult than you thought, not to mention that you were already late. Speed walking through the corridors, you started to become desperate. What’s the point of going to school anyway? Why did your parents move to another state in your last year of school,that you imagined to be a lot of fun? Why is your life so miserable? Nothing made sense and you were lost in your thoughts until- “Ouch!”- , you screamed while landing on the floor “Oh i’m so sorry, I didn’t see you coming my way!” You heard someone apologizing to you over and over but you didn’t look up because you were busy with collecting your books and papers that were spread all over the floor. Suddenly someone reached for your hand and helped you to rise from the floor. That are some soft hands, you thought to yourself. As you fixed your hair and clothes and thanked the guy helping you up, you looked at him. It hit you like a brick – you never saw someone that handsome before, he looked like someone from TV or like the people in fashion magazines. He had beautiful green eyes, soft pink lips and a lot of muscles. You thought you might fade just looking at him. “Tthhankyou !”- you mumbled and let go of his hands, that you definitely held for too long. He smiled at you and you turned completely red. You were ashamed of yourself and just looked down. After some seconds of silence, he introduced himself to you as Dean. What a lovely name, you thought”..uhh hi nice to meet you  i’m _______!” You shook his hand for the second time and smiled at him with the most awkward smile you could manage. He asked if you would search for something because you seemed a little lost while bumping into him. You laughed,” well i was looking for room c1001 and I couldn’t find it because I’m new to this school.” Wow you managed to talk to him, congrats _____! “Really? I’m new here to and I was searching for the same room!” He laughed, what a coincidence! You laughed too and still couldn’t believe that this guy was actually nice to you. Usually guys like him would make fun of you because you were rather shy and have some curly hair and big glasses that framed your face. But he was different. “So wanna come and search that classroom with me?” He winked and you felt you heart flatter. So now you were here searching this damn room with the most handsome boy, you saw in your entire life and talked with him about you moving houses and being new to Kansas. 

This school is eventually not as bad as you thought at the beginning.

Hey guys! this is my second fanfic that i wrote. i hope you like it! I will definitely upload part 2 of it sometime!

[residentteenagefangirl-blog]

Dean Winchester Imagine

Pairings: DeanxReader Characters: Dean, Sam, Cas, Reader Rating: T Warnings: Cursing? Violence? Idek /////////////////////////•\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ You woke with a start, heart hammering. The sound of fists pounding at your motel room door was deafening. Growling, you slid out from the warm bed, pulling your leather jacket on over you. Dressed in only a tank top and a pair of black underwear, you shivered a bit as you passed the air conditioner to get to the door. "I'm coming," You yell, "Don't get your panties in a twist!" The knocking stops as you open the door, one hand on your gun. You relax as you see Dean and Sam standing on the stoop. "Took you long enough, princess." Dean grumbles. You roll your eyes and step out of their way, gesturing for them to come in. "Sorry," you apologize, "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow." You reach out and hug them both tight. "Not that it's an unwelcome surprise." You notice Dean's eyes drift to your outfit and flit back to meet your gaze. You blush and go to pull on a pair of jeans. "We weren't going to be here until tomorrow." Sam explains, "And then Dean heard it was you that Bobby send us to help, and he was ready to go." You look up at Dean, buttoning your jeans. Sam chuckles as Dean avoids your eyes. "What?" The hunter protests, "I missed you!" You peck his cheek and cross the room to the kitchenette. "That's okay, Dean. I missed you guys too. Anybody want coffee?" Sam raises his hand in a...sort-of salute, while Dean just smirks. "Got anything stronger?" You grin, and hand him a beer, pouring Sam and yourself a cup of joe. "So what's the case here, huh, Y/N?" Sam asks, nursing his mug. You amble over to the table, covered in maps and newspaper clippings. "Well.....about four weeks ago, two boys wound up dead on the same day, they were different ages, and didn't look similar. Same thing repeated, once a week, for the next two weeks." Dean shifted in his seat, gazing at you in a way you knew all too well. You and him had a history, a complicated one. After you crossed paths with the boys on a case a few years back, you started hunting with them. But then...Dean, he became more than just a friend to you. So you had left. Just up and gone one day, nothing but a note left in your place. You couldn't love him. He'd get hurt. Because that's what always happens. You shook yourself out of your stupor. The case. That's what's important. "But, that sounds like a vengeful spirit to me, Y/N." Sam interjects. "Why call us?You could do this in your sleep!" You smiled ruefully. "Thats what I thought too. But then, get this, on the third week a girl turns up. Just the one. Then it stopped for a week and continued yesterday when two girls turned up, throats slit, hearts missing, same as the others." You paused, gauging their reactions. Sam was in deep thought while Dean, god damn it, was staring at you with those gorgeous emerald eyes of his. You shivered a bit, and forged on. "I was thinking its a sacrifice type thing to a god." Sam nods. "Yeah, Y/N, it makes sense. They'd need sacrifices every once in a while. But why the switch from boys to girls?" Sam asks? You shrug. Dean clears his throat. You both turn to look at him. You shift yours eyes slightly over his shoulder. No need to make this any harder on yourself. "Well, what if the god is a guy? It'd be a lot easier to get a girl alone if it was a guy. So maybe they realized girls were easier targets, and switched to girls." Dean theorized. You nodded. "That was kinda my thought process too." You explained. Sam looked confused. He shook his head. "Still though, you're one kickass hunter. Why call us up?" He asked. You blushed and but your lip. Dean stood, shaking his head, arms crossed. "No." He insists, "Hell, no!" You look down. "Bait? Really? You expect us, to come here, when we haven't seen you in ages, and be ok with you being bait?" Sam, realizing what's going on, murmurs in agreement with Dean. You stand, crossing the room to the bed, taking a seat on the edge. "Look, guys, I'm doing this. Now you can help me or not." You level. A look of deternination crosses your face. Sam sighs. He's known you long enough to know you aren't giving up. Dean just drops his head, grumbling softly. You smirk. "Ok. Now that we're on the same page, let's do this!"

A/N: So let me know what you think of this first bit, and I'll continue if it's well received! 😘 Lots of Love!

[sinfulsoulx]

Title: Tongue Tied

Summary: Requested by m’lovely @dean-winchesters-bacon: *Reader goes on a solo hunt, reader comes back all tense, Dean takes care of her, maybe a bath, massage, leading to smuts*

Words: 2′938

Warnings: Language, fluff, smut (smutty SMUT y’all. this is your warning)

Characters: Dean x Reader

Mun note: Fluffy Dean is one of my faves <3

“Why are you yelling?” You growled out as you stomped down the hall of the bunker, a very pissed off Dean following behind you. 

“You went after a nest of vampires on your own, Y/N,” he said, as if to explain his fury.

“You weren’t here. You and Sam were hours away and I was a hunter before I met you two, I don’t need your permission to go out and do my job.” 

“You could have called!” Dean clenched his fists. He was hella pissed, but it was, in reality, because he was so damn afraid of losing you. He knew you were a friggin’ awesome hunter, but going out there alone? It scared him to death. He’d lost so much. Too much. Vowed to himself that he’d never let anyone in again but, here you were, the center of his heartbeat. 

Part of the reason he kept fighting. You infuriated him with what he thought were reckless decisions just as much as you made him smile because, it was admirable and hell, most’a your choices were exactly what he’d do too. 

You’d slammed the door in his face, regretting it the second he was out your sight. Your palms pressed against the door and you had to choke back a sob. You were successful in your hunt, that wasn’t the point of the argument. 

How could you be so mean? He was only angry because he was worried. A sigh escaped you as you perched on the edge of the bed, your hands rubbing gently at your shoulders. You were sore, aching actually, from your neck down to your feet.

You may have ‘won’ and killed the vamps, but that wasn’t to say they hadn’t the chance to toss you too and fro for a while, enough to make you feel like your own flesh was out to kill you with the insistent buzz, created by the bubbling bruises. 

Parts of your arms, your legs, everywhere, they were turning discoloured and it was once you had really looked at the state of yourself, you calmed down. How many times had you seen Dean with wounds and bruises? How many times had you been furious because the thought of him being hurt, being taken away from you had sparked an argument?

You sighed, relenting into a little sadness and your own discomfort as you wandered out your room and towards his.

You knocked gently, startled when he appeared behind you, grabbing the hands that had instantly came up to attack. With a hold on your wrists, he said nothing and just dipped his head down to near yours. “Come with me.” 

His tone sounded ominous. He released one hand and slid down the other till he was tugging at your hand. You couldn’t help the confusion wash over your face as your feet padded behind him. You weren’t scared, Dean would die before he hurt you, so that just left you curious. 

He’d lead you all the way down the hall, to the bathroom nobody ever used. Inside was a very oversized bathtub, fancy tiles, the whole shebang that just wasn’t any of your styles. None of you cared for such luxury, nor did any of you really have time to consider that you could simply just enjoy it. 

Dean let go of your hand once he’d walked you inside and you choked on your own breath, enough to make your hand grasp at your throat. Your eyes filled up as you looked at him and then back out, scanning the surroundings.

Feathers and rose petals across the floor, the room lit up only by the mass of candles dotted all around... The large bathtub, filled to the brim with steamy water and bubbles and your favourite mix-tape low in the background. 

For fuck sake. Why did he have to be like this? He made you melt. These moments, they were vulnerable for him. He didn’t display this sort of intimate kindness without much consideration. So, to know he trusted you? Urgh. “Dean,” you sighed, softly so as you turned your gaze to his. 

“The thought of anything happening to you, Y/N-” he cut himself off as he cast his gaze down with a shake of his head. “I just want to protect you. I want to keep you safe and I know that’s stupid ‘cos none of us are ever safe but when I think that something could happen to you...” Dean puffed out a shaky breath. 

You only gave him a small nod and a pair of eyes that suggested to him that, that was exactly how you felt about him being out there too. But it was just the world you two lived in, you had to accept it. “Just let me take care of you,” Dean shook his head.

“You do. I’m just- stubborn.” You sighed, narrowing your eyes when he chuckled, clearly agreeing with you. “I’m sorry I make you worry.” Giving him a smile, he mirrored it and nodded towards the bath. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, making you shrug. “Bruised. I’m alright.” You assured. You were alive, the pain would ease in a couple days. You unzipped your jacket and he came around behind you to help you shrug it off. 

There was a moment where he stilled and sighed quietly, letting his fingers ghost over your the discoloured patches of skin. You could tell it upset him but he didn’t say anything and just helped you out of your clothes. 

“Should be hot enough for you,” he offered you his hands so you didn’t slip as you climbed in. “Are you not joining me?” You gave him a pout, letting your body disappear into the water. 

“If I join you it’ll be stone cold by the time we get out.” He lifted an amused brow and you only pouted harder. “Alright, alright,” Dean rolled his eyes and chuckled. He didn’t need much convincing. 

You moved forward, curling your arms around your knees under the water as he undressed. The water rose to the brim when he got in, threatening to spill over the edges. “Hot,” he almost hissed, tearing a laugh from your lips. “Me or the water?” You teased. 

“Both. C’mere,” you could hear the smile in his tone as his hands curled around your hips and slid you closer to him. His grip was as gentle as the kiss he pressed to your shoulder. 

Dean lathered his hands in soap before bringing them to your shoulders, the pads of his fingers squeezing and rolling to release the tension. You hummed quietly, dropping your head forward with a smile on your face. 

You noticed he was careful enough to avoid your bruises, opting to dance around them with skill and tender care. “I could get used to this.” You sighed, happily so. 

“By all means.” Dean chuckled, like he was in his element here just because you were letting him look after you. His hands continued their work on your shoulders until all the knots were gone and you could actually relax comfortably against his front. 

Your eyes followed the trail of his hands, tickling your skin under the water, gliding up and down your hips. You turned your head to the side and tipped up as he dipped down, catching you in a feverish kiss. 

You savoured the taste of his mouth, tainted with the whiskey he’d knocked back probably to aid in soothing his fury. His hands came up to grope your breasts and you chuckled against his mouth. “Sly move,” you whispered. 

“Nothing sly about it,” he grinned, pinching your nipples until he got a reaction out of you. He chuckled in the back of his throat and you couldn’t hide the growing smile on your face. 

You could feel his erection starting to poke into your spine but you avoided making some cheesy comment. This was Dean’s idea, you were happy to follow whatever direction he would take you in. 

With his hands now on your thighs, rubbing and squeezing, you closed your eyes and rested the back of your head on his shoulder. “Is this ok?” He teased, letting you feel the smile on his lips as he ghosted them under your ear. “Mm-hm. Feels nice.” You nodded. 

The movement of his legs made you peel your eyes open but you couldn’t see through the bubbles. You could feel it though, he manoeuvred his legs up over yours and spread them, locking them beneath his. 

You licked at your lower lip and your stomach flipped in anticipation, but a couple minutes passed and he was yet to move his hands from your thighs. A frown spread across your face, a small pout to follow as you shifted a little. 

“Still good?” He asked. And you knew that tone. That smug, teasing tone. You huffed quietly and crinkled your nose when he audibly laughed. “What’s wrong, Y/N?” 

“You’re being mean. I thought you wanted to take care of me?” You challenged, biting back the smile that threatened to crease up your face. “Patience.” He countered. You weren’t looking at him, but you could just imagine the shit eating grin plastered all over his face. 

Dean was a master at working you up, getting you to squirm before he even touched you. You’d be damned if you didn’t hate it as much as you loved it. His hands roamed around for a couple more minutes, until you were relaxed, until the ache in your body disappeared and was replaced by an ache much more pleasant. 

He settled a hand between your breasts and trailed the other down your stomach until finally... He dipped his middle finger between your folds, tracing down and back up to apply pressure against your sweet spot. He circled slowly as he peppered kisses against your neck. 

“Better?” He hummed, smiling as you responded with a gentle mewl. He took that as an invitation and set up a delicious rhythm. You rolled your hips and he jolted his legs tighter around yours, trapping you tighter that thus, making it near impossible for you to move. 

Your whimper made him coo in your ear, sliding two fingers into your core with his free hand. His thick digits opened you up, curling themselves inside your walls. You released a shaky breath and lifted a hand out the water to grab the side of the tub, the other creating a vice like grip on his thigh. 

You willed him to pick up the pace, his skilled fingers had your body tingling with need, but it wasn’t quite enough and he knew it. This was his sweet revenge, you imagined. Build you up, make you sweat, make you plead. And as much as you always tried not to let him win, he always did. 

Dean nipped at the skin on your neck, sucking until a dark imprint was left as evidence. The sensations were overwhelming, like you were dancing on the edge of bliss. “Breathe.” He whispered. 

You noticed then you’d started to hold your breath, focusing too much on the knot in your stomach. You breathed in, then out, jerking your hips against the thrust of his fingers. “Good,” Dean’s hushed tone made you shiver. 

“Mm, Dean,” your sounded a little more needy than you wanted, but he was being a friggin’ tease. The way his fingers worked your clit, brushed at your g-spot, speeding up and slowing down whenever you’d near your peak. 

The string of moans had him solid, fighting his own need to take you right there, you could tell. You whined. If he wanted you to beg, hell, you weren’t above it. You imagined this was his sweet revenge. Or was it his way of putting you back in your place? In the best kind of way, of course. 

“Dean please.” You slurred in a silky seduction, enough to bring a quiet rumble from his chest. You thought you were winning and then suddenly, removed his fingers, ceasing all movements. “Dean?” You choked, turning that rumble into a dark laughter. 

“I want to feel you.” Oh? Oh. Your lips parted, following his lead as he slid the both of you down the tub. Using a gentle grip on your hips, he released his grip on your legs and moved you up enough to slide his member through your folds.

You breathed out, the growl that emitted from his throat exactly the kind of one that made you weak at the knees. Dean lined himself up, the water aiding greatly in being able to lift and move you where he needed. His throbbing tip pressed between your lips until he was sinking in around you. 

You moaned audibly, drowning out the music in the background. The water was already swishing, you could imagine there’d be little left in the tub by the time you were done. “Fuck,” you whispered under your breath, relaxing into the slow movements. 

Dean was gentle enough at first, letting your walls adapt to the invasion. He was a considerable size, thick and long, more than enough to satisfy. His arm wrapped over your chest, pulling your back against his front as he circled his hips. 

“Oh-” You sucked in a breath and released it with a soft whine. Dean began to thrust, slow and torturous, letting you feel all of him with every jolt of his hips. By now, you were so far gone, you just succumbed to the gentle nature. 

It wasn’t entirely uncommon, he was a lover as much as he was a fighter. The position was a little hard to maintain, but Dean had no issue holding you in place, trapping you in his grasp. 

It was intense. The sounds escaping your lips were laced with a desperate need. With every thrust, your body shivered. It wasn’t until you had started to tighten around him that he growled against your shoulder and bit down. 

You cried aloud, the pain mixed with the sudden pleasure of his fingers against your clit balancing out perfectly. He circled them around your throbbing bud and your skin set alight. 

“Dean,” you moaned, dropping your head against his chest. “You like this, baby?” His husky voice made you whimper, moaning and breathing heavy the closer you got to freedom. 

“You feel so good,” Dean groaned. Gosh. You loved his voice, his praise - the way he could make you fall at his feet with just a few words. His cock was hitting you in all the right places, filling you up, making you feel him. 

“Fuck-” You rasped. “Don’t- don’t stop,” it was a needy plea, you were so close. Your moans and cries made Dean thrust harder with a quiet growl as he sucked the lobe of your ear. “That’s it, cry for me, Y/N,” he cooed. 

You couldn’t stop the sinful sounds tumbling from your lips. Your thighs were shaking, your hips rolling to meet his thrusts, not a single care for all the water splashing over the edges. “Dean- I- I’m- oh fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, hands clutching onto anything you could grab for support. 

“You gonna cum for me?” He growled, you could feel him smirking against the skin on your neck. “Uuh-huh, yes- yes.” You moaned, your grip on his arms hard enough for your nails to dig into his flesh. 

“Do it. Cum around my cock. Let me feel you.” Dean worked his fingers over your clit, grunting out a strangled moan when he felt your walls clench around him. “Oh god, Dean, Dean,” you gasped, feeling that familiar coil in your body snap.

Your body flooded with mind numbing pleasure, enough to turn your vision white. Your audible moans and raspy screams echoed, but you were so wrapped up in your own bliss you didn’t care. 

Your thighs twitched and jolted, your pussy still convulsing around Dean as he thrust more, helping you savour the feeling. You were panting, a little dizzy through the heat and intensity but you couldn’t deny the buzz in your skin. 

You were shivering from head to toe, clenching and releasing Dean’s shaft, enough to bring him to his release. His thrusts grew sloppily, his breathing uneven as he grunted and groaned out your name. “Y/N,” he stilled, pouring hot, thick ropes of cum inside you. 

You moaned as you felt him fill you up, coating your inner walls with his seed. Once he’d stilled completely, you relaxed a little and tried to catch your breath. “That was...” you chose to just giggle instead. 

“Mhmm, it was.” Dean’s chest heaved against your back as he kissed your shoulder. “You drive me crazy.” He hummed, sliding out of you with a small hiss. You whimpered, turning only when he guided you around. 

“How crazy?” You teased. “So crazy I could happily tie you to the bed forever if it meant you wouldn’t ever leave.” He smirked, trailing a finger under your chin to tip up your head. “No more solo hunts?” His eyes searched yours, the plea in his hues not at all hidden. 

You sucked in a breath and just studied him for a few seconds. You appreciated the fact he was asking and not demanding. You weren’t thrilled but you understood his concern and, really, how could you say no to those damn gorgeous eyes? 

“Not if I can help it. Okay?” You offered him a smile. Dean nodded, letting his eyes droop down to your swollen lips. He kissed you, slow and sweet, making you hum in the back of your throat. “Good girl.” 

[sinfulsoulx]

Summary: Dean x Reader are in a long term relationship. Reader gets possessed by a demon that’s intent on breaking her soul mate, lover & best friend Dean by making him believe she has never truly loved him. 

Warnings: angst, tears, heartache, language, possession, gun.

Word count: 1′282

Mun note: This hurt. That’s all I gotta say about this. Feedback is always welcome and wanted and if you ever wanna be tagged in future stuffs, drop me a dime! 

Y/N walked almost aimlessly into the bunker. Sweaty, dirty, a little bloody and over-all quite a state. And still, your boyfriend appeared, wrapping you in his arms with no hesitation. “Y/N, you’ve been gone two days...” Leaning back, he cupped your face and searched for an explanation.

Your mind was screaming. You had left to kill a vampire and somehow, ran into a demon. No time to call for help, you had to fight, but the demon caught the upper hand. They burned through the anti possession tattoo on your wrist and took you captive. 

Hell, it was a field day once they knew of your connection with the Winchesters, specifically the elder one. Rather than taking you, this demon wanted to destroy Dean - as many of them wanted the same thing, that part wasn’t surprising. What was frightening was the fact that they were going to make you do it. 

Dean was your everything, as you were his. You knew his every insecurity, vulnerability, fear, therefore, so did the demon - you didn’t even need to wonder how the black eyed creature was going to break down your lover. 

“We need to talk.” The demon muttered. In those two days, the demon had attuned itself perfectly to your every mood, tone, trait, memory, right down to the way you walked. It wanted to be convincing, it wanted Dean to fully believe this was you who was about to break his whole world.

No, no, no, no! Please! Please don’t do this. Take me, use me, just leave - leave, don’t- don’t hurt him! Your inner voice was wailing inside your own head. You couldn’t physically stop the words or the serious pair of eyes as they gazed into those beautiful green ones you adored so much it took your breath away. 

“I’m moving out, Dean.” The demon’s voice was as small as the one you would have whenever you were about to hit home with something emotive. “I- I wasn’t really on a vampire hunt. I needed some space. From hunting and- from you,” The demon forced your gaze to the ground, cleared your throat and wobbled your head. 

You could only watch in horror, as though you were watching a movie, but this was no chick flick, this was a hell-beast using you, your body, your mind, your voice, every inch of you, in order to break your boyfriend. And you knew, if he didn’t see the burned off possession tattoo, that he would believe it.

Dean was very insecure when it came to love, specifically, believing people outside of his brother, Sam, could love him unconditionally. That’s how you and consequently, the demon, knew this would work. It’s why the demon had put on your jacket, to cover the tattoo that would give the gig away.

“Y/N...” Dean didn’t know what to say, he didn’t understand. He was looking at you like you had just slaughtered a little puppy in-front of him. “Please, please don’t make this harder. I’m not happy, D. I’m- I’m miserable, I-” The demon perfected the way you would choke on your words when you were trying to explain something that upset you.

Honestly, you felt nauseous, so much so you damn well hoped it would impact the demon controlling you, but it didn’t. Of course it didn’t, that would be too easy. “Miserable?” Dean picked out that word, in a quiet tone, one you had never, ever heard before. He sounded... Nervous. Fuck, he sounded broken. 

“I don’t love you anymore, Dean. I’m not even sure I did at all and- and I’m sorry,” the demon forced tears to your eyes, flailed your hands out at your front, just like you would do when you were panicking. “I’ve been so lost and then I found you and Sam and- Well, you know, you know it was after I lost my father and,” the demon put hands over your face and arched forward briefly. 

“I’ve been realising lately that what I thought was love, was just security. You made me feel safe and... I don’t need that anymore. I can look after myself. And I’m sorry... I’m so sorry because... Because I know how hard it is for you to let someone in and I can’t believe I’m doing this to you but- It’s not right for me to lie.” Inside your own head, you hadn’t stopped begging the demon to stop, although it was obviously no use.

“You’re such a good man, Dean, you deserve everything... You deserve happiness and love and... I’m just... I’m not the one to give it to you.” God fucking damn, this demon almost had you convinced. Even if Dean wasn’t insecure, how the hell could he refuse this Oscar winning performance? 

Those words struck him like a lightening bolt, you could tell. The pain in his eyes was instant, the hitch in his breathing that seemed to get trapped inside his lungs, the glassy eyed vision that was born from him holding back tears, the clenched fists and jaw... And still, he was silent. 

For what seemed like a decade, he was quiet. He was studying you and you hoped and prayed that instinct would outweigh insecurity and he would know you would never, ever do this. “D, say something...” The demon whispered. 

Dean sucked in a breath as the first stray tear drops dropped like a fall from his eyes. “It’s okay.” He muttered. “What?” The demon whispered, continuing the facade of you perfectly. “I said it’s okay, Y/N,” Dean repeated.

His voice was broken. Defeated, but he smiled. God damn this beautiful, tragic man, he smiled, however heartbroken and betrayed, he didn’t yell at you. “Hell, I always thought I was punchin’ above my weight with you...” Dean shifted his footing, his shoulders tense, the tears obvious on his flushed cheeks. 

“You do what you gotta do for you. I won’t be the reason you’re rollin’ in the dirt.” Dean stepped to the side, as if to let you go to your room and pack. You were sobbing, screaming. Was that it? Dean thought that little of you? No. No. You had to remind yourself this wasn’t about you. It wasn’t. 

This was about decades of his own fears of losing people, or rejection. You’d fight this. Somehow you would fight this and make it right. Apparently luck was on your side because as the demon started to pass the elder Winchester, you were fuelled with that much rage and grief that something burst. 

You wobbled, eyes darting around, only needing a split second to realise you had taken control back. “Dean-” Spinning around, you gripped his arm and used your other to roll the sleeve of your jacket up. 

“Dean, it’s not me, I wouldn’t d-ahhh!” You cried out, hands flying to your head as the demon quickly forced you back down into your subconscious. “Y/N,” Dean yelled. He’d seen the broken anti possession tattoo. He knew. That’s what mattered. That’s how you knew everything would be fine... Right?

“Well,” The demon, in your voice and now with a set of pitch black eyes, pulled the gun from your jeans and aimed it towards Dean. “I only wanted to break your spirit. I guess now I gotta kill you. Can’t be lettin’ a Winchester roam free while I’m riding his girl,” the demon giggled in your sweet, soft tone. 

“You let her go right now or I swear I-” Dean’s tone was vicious, but was quickly halted as the demon turned the gun and pressed it under your chin. “Ah, ah, ah. You wouldn’t want me to pull this trigger now, would you, Winchester?”

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