#and what if i can treat dean winchester better than any of his Gods ever could

[its-alittleobsessed]

“Maybe you should seek queer stories in actual gay media” okay fuck you.

1. Any story can be gay if you’re brave enough.

2. Gay and political news deliverer Castiel is canonically a gay angel and

3. If Dean—There’s people. Feelings. That I want to experience differently, or maybe for the first time—Winchester is straight then maybe we should reevaluate heterosexuality as a whole.

AND ALSO you know what

Fucking 4rth of all. They’re fictional fucking characters, dude. If i wanna reflect my queerness on this screwed up mess of a man who literally hunts fairy dust monsters for a living. Then i fucking will. He’s fictional and so fucking complex as a character that if i wanted to make him real, then I could make him up to be whatever I wanted.

AND. AND 5th of all, babe. Text and subtext are two totally different things. Subtext is up for interpretation. It is silently laid out for the viewer to appreciate and scrutinize. To puzzle and question. And this subtext just so happens to be gay as shit and really really obvious.

So fuck me for filling in the dots. Christ. You have brain and suddenly you’re the antichrist around here

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Right After All

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: none

Summary: Your twin sister throws a party and invites her hot boyfriend and his brother. You're nothing like she is, and Dean sees he might have chosen the wrong sister.

Square Filled: tattoo (2021) for @spndeanbingo​

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

x

You’ve never seen your house so crowded before. Your twin sister invited everyone she knew to a housewarming party that turned from a few friends to a full-blown frat house. You’re more of an introvert while your twin is a severe extrovert. She needs to be around people to feel most comfortable while you can stay in your room all day either reading or playing video games.

It's only for one night, Y/N. Enjoy it and mingle.

The backyard is filled with people playing in the pool, smoking God only knows what, and playing on the mini basketball court your dad installed years ago. Inside the living room, people are playing ‘spin the bottle’, playing beer pong, and dancing to whatever music they put on. No one should be going upstairs, but you could have sworn you saw two people go up there in the midst of the chaos. 

The kitchen is the only place where there aren’t a lot of people because the kitchen isn’t that big anyway. There are a few getting drinks, but they quickly leave to rejoin the party.

The only people you’d love to converse with are your twin, her boyfriend, Dean, and his brother Sam. You’ve known them ever since they started dating a year ago. She doesn’t treat him like how he deserves, but you try to stay out of their relationship. She’s into partying, drinking, hooking up with Dean, and always spending whatever money he makes.

It sucks knowing he’s a good guy and seeing him get treated like trash.

You grab whatever alcohol is on the table and pour yourself a simple drink. Sam walks in with an uncomfortable smile on his face.

“You okay?” you chuckle.

“Yeah. I guess some girls don’t know the word ‘no’.”

“Yeah, they’re my sister’s friends. Sorry about that.”

“I can handle it,” he shrugs. “How’s school going?”

“One more year and I graduate! I’ve got an internship at the hospital this summer that will help me get a job there. How’s hunting going? I can’t imagine it’s ever good.”

“We’re managing. We got some hunters under our belt that are training so we don’t have to respond to every case.”

“That’s good. You know, I’d love to come over and see this Bunker of yours. I’ve only ever heard you talk about it. You’re making me think it’s a mythical place.”

“Yeah, we’d love to have you and Clarissa over some time.” Dean comes stumbling into the kitchen with a drunk grin on his face. “And I’m out.”

“Hey, Dean. You doing okay?” you ask.

“Never better, sweetheart.”

Dean walks over to you and pulls you into him. Before you have a chance to object, he plants his lips on yours. You’ve thought about this moment since you met Dean, but this isn’t right. He licks your bottom lip to get access inside your mouth, and you’d like to let him in but you don’t.

“Baby! That’s not me, dumbass!” your twin screeches from the kitchen door.

“What?” Dean asks and pulls away from you.

She rolls her eyes and grabs her boyfriend’s arm to drag him away. Dean might not remember this moment, but you will for the rest of your life. You were going to make a move, but your sister got to him before you could. You never said anything to Dean for fear that it’ll ruin their relationship to the point where you couldn’t see him anymore.

It’s better to have him around as a friend than not have him around at all.

Suddenly, this party has turned into a box with walls that keeps getting closer and closer to you. No one noticed you leaving the party until it was over. Some people crashed wherever they could sleep because they were too drunk to drive, leaving you to pick up their mess. Sam is in the backyard cleaning up what he can while you’re in the living room.

“Hey.”

You look up and see Dean by the stairs. Clarissa isn’t anywhere near him which means she���s probably passed out somewhere.

“Did you enjoy the party?” you ask and stuff red solo cups into the black trash bag.

“Yeah, I did. Your sister throws a helluva party. Let me help you.”

“I don’t---” He’s already picking up empty glass bottles and red cups. “Do you remember anything about the party?”

“You mean besides that kiss we shared?”

“Listen, no harm no foul, okay? We can just forget about it. You probably will in the morning.”

“I wasn’t drunk.”

“What?”

Dean walks over to you, backing you up into the large unlit fireplace.

“I knew what I was doing,” he whispers. “You know the difference between you and your twin? You have that pretty little tattoo right here.” Dean leans closer to your neck where you have a single rose tattoo right behind your ear. He brushes your hair away and plants a single kiss on the rose. “She doesn’t have one.”

He knew what he was doing. He kissed you on purpose knowing you were you and not your twin. What does this mean for you and him? For him and Clarissa? Dean pulls away from you and puts some distance between you and himself. Right before he leaves the room, he winks at you.

Maybe you and him are right after all.

x

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

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Six

Warnings: tw: child abuse, tw: physical abuse, tw: verbal abuse, mentions of therapy, heavy angst, language, self-loathing.

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: There are TRIGGER WARNINGS in this part - please heed these, and if you think you’ll be affected by any of them, please do not read.

A/N 2: And so here is the next part that made me cry as I was writing it. Have tissues at the ready... and maybe some ice-cream to soften the blow, and know that I am giving you a big, squishy hug at the end 💖

You can catch up here!

 My Masterlist AO3    Ko-Fi

My dearest Dean,

My therapist gave me this exercise to write letters to the people in my life - the good and bad. To get things off my chest that are weighing me down and need to be said. She said I could send them if I wanted, but as it stands right now, I don’t know if you will ever read this. This is the first of five I plan to write. You, your mom, Uncle Bobby, and my father. He will never see his, but there is a lot of shit I need to get off my chest about him. I also need to write one to myself. Give myself forgiveness or some chick-flick bullshit! 

Dean let out a chuckle as he read her opening words.

That’s right… you read that right! It does say therapist! I know you always told me to go. Told me that it’d help. But you know me, stubborn to the core and will go out of my way to do the exact opposite of what I’m being told to do just to piss everyone off! Trust me, some things will never change! But I guess what I’m trying to say is… you were right.

I fought it and fought it, but when the nightmares got worse, and I started seeing him all over campus, at the bar I work in, the coffee shop I study in, the grocery store… You get the picture. I knew I had to at least try it, and… it’s working.

It’s such a relief getting everything out in the open. Knowing that I really, honest to God, did nothing wrong and didn’t deserve any of it. I know you never judged me, and you never would, but there were always things running through my mind that I never told anyone. Not until now, at least.

It was always swimming around in there that it was somehow my fault. That life would’ve been much simpler if I’d died that night. Maybe my father was right. He and Mom could’ve had more children and softened the blow.

I dreamed of a better life every night - at least when the nightmares stayed away. My dreams would show me what life would be like if Mom survived. Sometimes I had a little brother. Sometimes it was a sister. We’d spend weekends playing in the yard or baking cookies together. I’d run down the sidewalk to meet my father on his way home from work, and he’d pick me up and swing me around and around. He’d lift me onto his shoulders, and we’d walk home together laughing, and I’d feel like I was on top of the world!

But then I’d wake up, and the world around me was so cold and dull. He’d be passed out on the couch again, and I’d have to make myself breakfast and get ready for school. Those mornings, I honestly wished I were dead.

More tears leaked from Dean’s eyes as a sad smile overtook his features. He wished she’d had the life she dreamed about. If the spark was still there between them, he swore to himself that he’d make sure any kids they might have in the future had a life exactly like the one in her dreams.

I know you always told me that none of it was my fault, and I know deep down in my heart that it’s true, but there has always been that nasty voice telling me I’m not good enough, that I’m a waste of space and I deserve to be treated like shit. The voice that would whisper: ‘Stop complaining. People have it worse than you.’

You know it’s one thing for the people who love you to tell you that the voices are lying, but it doesn’t sink in until an outsider tells you that. So, thank you, Dean, for babbling on endlessly about going to therapy. Without it, I’d never have thought about going, and I’d have given in to the destructive ways I began using to drown it out.

I’ve wanted to call you so bad, but it wouldn’t be fair to keep putting my shit onto you. I was the one who left you. 

Dean knew more tears were streaming down his face now. He knew all eyes were on him, but he couldn’t care less. All he could think about was that he’d somehow failed her for having such negative thoughts and never fully believing it wasn’t her fault.

Before therapy, when things got too much, I coped the only way I knew how. Well, the only way I’d been taught - I drank. I also developed an unhealthy relationship with sex to feel something… anything that wasn’t pure hatred for myself. I let men use me in any way they wanted to. I might as well become the filthy little slut my father always told me I was, right? Of course, it didn’t work. Not really. It only made me hate myself more.

It shames me to tell you all of this because I know it makes me a stranger to you. It turns me into someone you no longer know, but as therapy goes on and I’ve stopped using those harmful coping methods, I realise I’ve changed. For better or worse, those experiences and getting treatment have made me a different person.

He dropped the letter from his gaze and sobbed again. He wept for the girl who was taught to drink away her problems. To the girl whose father’s words had cut so deeply into her skin that she became the thing he’d always accused her of being.

Memories of the first time she told him her father had accused her of having sex with him, and he’d called her a filthy little slut crawled to the forefront of his mind. She was only twelve years old.

Sam’s hand on his back brought him back to the present, and he huffed a loud exhale before picking up the pieces of paper and continuing.

I’m mentally and physically stronger now (thanks to kickboxing and self-defence!) I have more confidence in myself, more self-esteem, and more self-belief. But I know that underneath all that, I’m still me. I’ve found the girl I was before I lost my sparkle and before her crown slipped.

I’m becoming a whole new woman, and I need you to know that you started to build her, Dean. Your love gave her the solid foundation and supporting walls she needed to soar skyward. The structure was shaky for a little while back there, and I didn’t know if it would all come crashing down, but I had your voice in the back of my mind telling me that you loved me, that you’d always love me. And it stopped the world from shaking and the structure from crumbling.

You laid the foundations for me, and each supporting wall you built is at the core of the new me. Because of you, I found the strength to open up and start the healing process. Because of you, I was brave enough to leave and start a new life. Because of you, my colours, which started as dull shades of grey, became soft pastels and are now neons, shining brighter than ever. Because of you and your unconditional love, I’ve grown my wings, and I’m finally learning to fly without a safety net.

Thank you for not asking me to stay, Dean. Because I don’t think I’d have taken this time to fix and heal myself if you had.

I love you. I always have, and I always will. And I miss you every goddamn day. I need you to know that, and I need you to believe that. I hope that one day I’m strong enough to come home and tell you this face to face, but that’s still too far out on the horizon. 

There’s still so much building I need to do to solidify myself, and I promise I will do it. I’m gonna be that little girl who was your best friend again. I’m gonna be that young woman you fell in love with again. I’m gonna make you, Uncle Bobby, and my mom proud. I won’t end up like him; I’d rather die than make his words true.

As I read back, it feels like this is a goodbye, and I guess it is, in a way. It’s a goodbye to that frightened and sad little girl everyone once knew.

I hope with all my heart that we meet again someday, Dean. I hope you get to see the woman I’ll become. I hope she makes you proud, and I get to tell you she’s here because of you.

All my love, always and forever,

Y/N xx

Dean wiped furiously at his eyes, cleared his throat, and huffed loudly. He hugged Mary tight and whispered an emotional ‘thank you’ that was only heard between mother and son.

“I would’ve dropped everything and gone to Chicago if I’d read this back then,” Dean said.

“I know. And so did Y/N. It’s why she told me to wait until the time was right,” Mary pulled back from his embrace to look into her son’s eyes. “And it wouldn’t have ended well for either of you. Y/N needed to heal and grow. If you’d gone to her, she’d have given up therapy, sacrificed her healing for you.

“What you had was special, there is no doubt about that, and it could be again, but with her fragile upbringing and your unconditional need to protect her all the time, it could’ve only ended in two ways…” Mary stopped, and Dean nodded his head.

“Either she’d have lost herself completely, swallowed up in my shadow, or I’d be in prison for murdering her father,” Dean finished for her.

“Exactly. Y/N knew that, too, and she didn’t want either of those futures for you. She wanted to grow and learn how to take care of herself. Stand up for herself. Fight back. She could only have done that alone. She had to become someone you didn’t need to protect,” Mary said.

“I’ll always protect her. I’ll protect everyone I love,” Dean countered, and Mary smiled.

“I know you would, Dean, and we are so proud of you for that, but she’s a lot stronger than you give her credit for, and there’s a big difference between needing to protect someone and wanting to,” Mary cupped his cheek and gave him a soft smile before she moved to sit at the table.

“So, what happens now, son?” John asked. “I know you still love her.”

“I’ll always love her, but I’d like to find out if I’m still in love with her,” Dean replied.

“It’s clear that you are, Dean,” Sam added with a smirk. “I don’t think you ever stopped.”

“Yeah, maybe. But that letter is at least ten years old, and Y/N talks about being different. Shit, I’ve changed too. Who knows if that means I still love her, feel nothing but platonic love or will fall in love with her all over again?”

“I don’t think she’ll have changed as much as you think, Dean!” John said with a soft smile.

“I hope not,” Dean smiled. “Still, I don’t wanna get too excited. She might not be in love with me anymore. Plus, she’ll have a lot on her plate with moving back, settling into a new job, and a new life. Her dad is dying-”

“Dean, you can’t put off seeing her,” Sam insisted.

“I won’t. But I won’t force myself back into her life when everything’s already in the air for her. I’ll let her settle, and then if she agrees, we’ll meet and talk.”

Next Chapter >>

Tag list: @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27 @candy-coated-misery0731 @iprobablyshipit91 @twinkleinadiamondsky @mrsjenniferwinchester @spnwoman @snackles87 @perpetualabsurdity @hoboal87 @synmorite @nancymcl @trannydean @nic-kolas @jc-winchester @winchestergirl1720 @globetrotter28 @nelachu2423 @kayleighmeister @venicesem @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @suckitands33 @tristanrosspada-ackles @silentbutscreaming @lacilou @sandlee44 @kmc1989 @chriszgirl92 @ashbatz @k-slla @jamerlynn @waters-2567 @kazsrm67

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 234

The Bad Seed

It’s so unfair I didn’t manage my time better that I have to pause mha to watch this right now. DABI’S DANCE IS NEXT AND I JUST….

“The Bad Seed”

Plot Description: Rowena tries to recruit witches, while Castiel struggles to control the attack-dog spell coursing through his veins. Amara feeds—and grows.

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: RIP to those witches but I would have joined Rowena’s coven

Oh sweetieeeee, Mega Coven doesn’t have the same grandeur as Grand Coven. I’m so sorry, babe. Let’s revise it. I believe in you.

I LOVE her rage

How many times are we going to go back to the scene of Dean and the Darkness just after they freed her??

I need to know which one of them wrapped that blanket around Cas. It’s imperative that I gain that knowledge. He’s handcuffed and he’s chained to a very small area, he did not get that blanket himself. He’s suffering so much, poor baby

You REALLY need to rename your new coven

Is Sam the only one in this room who hasn’t worked closely and one-on-one with Crowley for a extended time? Is that why he’s on his moral high horse about what a dick Crowley is?

The angel radio thing is a super convenient explanation they can throw in whenever they want. I’m not saying Cas is lying that those are the voices he’s now hearing…just that he may be wrong

I like this connection Amara has with the former representation of the Darkness. I mean, it’s probably unhealthy, but can you imagine being tbr equivalent of an 8-10 year old, seeing an older version of yourself in the mirror and them telling you “we are mightier than god”?!

Are…are these this universe’s Great Value ineffable husbands? Or is this just a one off scene of an angel and a demon sitting down for a drink while discussing what horror has heaven and hell in a tizzy

I…hate how they’re treating this nobody witch

It must be so difficult being a super powerful demon and having to grovel at the feet of this little girl because she’s gonna grow up into something that’s mightier than you and god. She’s in your care, but you’re under her thumb

Well, I can’t say I saw her killing her nanny coming…Crowley’s realizing what a huge mistake he’s maybe made

Can we stop handcuffing Rowena??

If Amara keeps this up, Crowley’s not gonna have any demons left

She’s so proud of her leverage against Dean. If he calls Crowley and she dies as a result? They’ll never have the Book of the Damned and they can’t fix Cas and he slowly succumbs to the spell she put on him and eventually dies too

Oh, Cas…baby, where are you going??

I love that cruel Crowley is back. As much as I enjoyed trying to be Dean’s bff Crowley, it IS better when he gets to be mean

Not that they can’t do it oh so well on their own, but Rowena making sure that wedge gets driven between the Winchesters…it’s been to long since they were fighting. What, two episodes?

I know it’s late at night but the optics of just some dude forcefully leading a lady in old timey handcuffs is NOT GREAT, SAM

This poor girl, she was just trying to get home or something. And poor Cas, he’d never do this in his right mind.

Dean, don’t hit on random women on the street, especially this late at night. I’m glad she told him to get a life

He’s gonna feel so bad about this when he comes to…Yeah, it’s okay to throw Dean around like a rag doll. Not only can he take it, but it’s probably good payback from when he tried to kill you last season

Nah, she was so right for that. She did the equivalent of shoving Sam aside and locking the three of them in a room and they’re looking at her like it’s the greatest betrayal. Like they’re in some horrible predicament now. Dean literally just tried to change the terms of their deal before they went looking for Cas, she has no reason to believe they’d uphold their end of the bargain (letting her go free)

See? They’re FINE. Dean, did you ever think Cas wants to heal your wound because he can’t stand the thought that he did that? You don’t have to keep it because you had it coming. You don’t have to torture yourself

Ah damn, another nanny down…and now Amara is a…preteen??

[bi-bard]

Chick Flick Moments - Sam Winchester Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Chick Flick Moments

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Requested: by an anonymous reader

Word Count: 2,363 words

Warning(s): violence, cussing, Sam embarrassing himself, spoilers for any movie/show listed in the author's note

Summary: (Season 11) Gabriel takes a break from hiding to teach (Y/n) and Sam to forgive each other.

Author's Note: I had so much fun putting this request together! Also, if I remember correctly, this reader wanted to remain anonymous.

Here are links to all the scenes that inspired parts of this imagine:

1 (Princess Bride), 2 (8x12 Criminal Minds; can't find just the scene to link), 3 (Moulin Rouge), 4 (The Notebook), 5 (The 10 Things I Hate About You), 6 (Gilmore Girls), 7 (La La Land)

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

I rolled my eyes as I walked through the bunker.

Sam was still ranting about the most recent hunt. I was just tired of listening to it. Dean had long since given up trying to control his brother, who had shown no sign of listening to anyone.

"You can't just throw yourself into every single enemy," Sam yelled. "Fun fact, you're not Superman!"

"Oh my god," I finally, turning around. I had been halfway through the library at this point. Dean continued through the bunker, ignoring us. "I ran up to one extra vamp because you were about to get your throat ripped out! Yes, I put myself in danger but it was to save you!"

"Why are you so desperate to be a hero," he asked.

"Why are you so pissy that I saved you," I shouted back.

I let out a yell before turning and leaving.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed," I shouted from down the hall. "Maybe you'll be nicer in the morning! You're welcome for saving your ass!"

I stormed into my room and slammed the door shut. I changed quickly, throwing my old clothes into the corner before curling up on my bed. My emotions got the better of me. I started crying into my pillow.

Imagine saving the man you secretly loved... and then he got mad at you about it.

I fell asleep crying that night.

--time skip--

I shot awake, cringing at how bright it was.

I looked around, letting my eyes adjust to the light.

I was on a hill. I was on a hill, lying in the grass with the sun shining on my face. This is not good.

I stood up and did a circle to look around the long stretches of grass. Nothing looked even slightly familiar.

"For fuck's sake," I muttered.

I decided that the best option would be to try to climb down and find a person... somewhere.

I was just about to start making my way down the hill when I felt a hand grab me.

Out of pure fear, I grabbed the person and pulled them from behind me. The person went flying down the hill.

"(Y/n)," I heard Sam's voice yell as he rolled down the hill.

I put my hand over my mouth. He soon stopped rolling and then he stood up, scrambling to pull the black mask off of his face. I sighed, dropping my hand when I saw he was alright.

"Sam," I called.

"Your instinct is to throw some down a hill," Sam asked.

"When a masked man tries to grab me, definitely," I replied. "Fun fact, Sam, I can actually defend myself."

He gave me a sarcastic smile. I shot it right back to him.

Sam looked down at his outfit before sighing and shrugging at me. He had just started to move back up the hill when my visions went dark.

I opened my eyes a few moments later.

What had been an open field was now a dark warehouse or factory. I saw Sam across from me, but also a group of people behind him. I recognized them. They were characters from Criminal Minds, a guilty pleasure I watched when we weren't hunting.

I tried to figure out what was happening.

Then, I became all too aware of the barrel of a gun pressing into my neck.

"No," Sam yelled.

It clicked.

Sam was supposed to be Spencer. I was Maeve. This was Zugzwang.

My heart dropped.

"Wait, please, don't," Sam yelled as the gun pressed harder on my neck.

"Sam, shut up," I snapped.

"Me for (Y/n)," he shouted.

"You would do that," Diane- the unsub of that episode- asked.

"Yes," Sam replied.

"No," I yelled. "Sam, shut up."

"You shut up," Diane growled at me.

"One difference between me and her...," I growled back.

I grabbed the gun, pushing it forward, away from my neck. The bullet she tried to fire hit the brick wall. I turned, bringing an elbow down on her arm. Her hand dropped the gun into my grasp. I pointed it toward her.

"...I'm not scared of a simple gun."

The others walked over and arrested her. I looked at Sam.

"If you continued, she would've killed herself, which would've killed me," I explained. He furrowed his eyebrows. "I watch this show when we aren't hunting."

He walks over, going to hug me before the scene changes again.

"Holy...," I trailed off as I looked around.

Around us, we could see the tops of roofs and a beautiful night sky. It was almost a dreamy setting.

"Where are we now," Sam asked.

"Only the great Moulin Rouge," Sam and I both twirled around to face... Gabriel. "I know, I know... I'm not dead, anyway!"

I rolled my eyes.

"You two need to learn a lesson," he pointed at us.

"It's like back in 2010," I mumbled. "Play our roles to get out. Probably why we were pulled out of the last two."

"You'll fall into them naturally, I promise," Gabriel smirked. "And yes. Stop ignoring the plotline."

"Alright... sure, I was gonna get shot for your crappy game," I snapped sarcastically.

Then, he was gone. I rolled my eyes.

"So, what are the roles," Sam asked as I walked around the top of the elephant.

"Well, Christian and Satine," I pointed between us. "Maeve and Spencer. The Princess Bride and Westley. It's all romance."

"Why," Sam scrunched his face up.

"Because Gabe wants to get his rocks off," I said sarcastically, "I don't know, Sam!"

I walked down the stairs of the elephant. It was gorgeous here. It was just as vibrant as the movie made it look.

"Wow," I look back at Sam. "This is awesome."

I chuckled and nodded.

"What seen is it?"

"The Elephant Love Medley," I said. "Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman sing this mash-up of famous love songs as his character tries to convince her that there is nothing more important than love."

"I'm not gonna sing," Sam shook his head.

"I was not gonna ask you too," I chuckled. "I've heard you sing."

"Rude."

I just shrugged.

I looked around at the room, trying to figure out how to play these roles without the singing.

"Wait," I said. "Come on."

I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the stairs.

"What is it," Sam asked as we made it to the top.

"At the end of the medley, Christian and Satine are dancing and they walk out onto this field of clouds and are held up in the sky."

"What-"

"This whole movie feels like a fever dream the first time you watch it."

"Come on," Sam held a hand out to me.

"Can you dance?"

"Not well," he chuckled. "The role didn't say I needed to be good."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him.

I tried to lead his steps and laughed as he stumbled into a pattern.

"Come on," I moved back so I could grab only one hand.

I led him a few steps forward and onto- what seemed to be- steps in the clouds. I let out an excited laugh when it worked. Sam looked at me and grinned at my excitement.

As soon as got to the top of the steps... it was gone.

We were in the middle of the street now.

"Aw, that was just mean," I mumbled. I glared at Sam when I heard him laughed.

He held his hands up jokingly before extending one toward me. I furrowed my eyebrows at him.

"I know what movie this is," he shrugged. I motioned for him to continue explaining. He walked over, hand still held out to me, "The Notebook. Noah and Allie dance in the street. So... will you dance with me? Even without the sequence where we dance in the clouds."

I bit my lip as I smiled.

I took his hand and let him pull me into the street. I laughed as I stumbled into his chest.

We fell into the scene naturally.

Sam held one of my hands in his and held my waist with the other. I placed my free hand on his shoulder. I looked up at him. It felt strange that we so casually fell into the scene but I was happy.

Sam jokingly twirled me around before pulling me back to his chest. I closed my eyes and chuckled.

"What," he asked.

"Nothing," I shook my head. "I just never saw you as such a romantic."

"Well, don't tell anyone, you'll ruin my reputation," he said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes.

Sam spun the two of us in a circle before going to dip me. I didn't think I'd ever get to experience something like this. It always just felt like something I should forget about as a hunter. I was starting to forget why I was so angry with Sam in the first place.

I barely noticed that Sam was leaning in before the scene around me changed.

I was on a football field.

I looked around.

There was no sign of Sam.

"Crap," I mumbled, trying to figure out where to look first.

Then, there was a voice going over the field's speakers.

"You're just too good to be true... can't take my eyes off of you..."

I looked around toward the stands to see Sam walking with a mic. Can't sing, my ass.

"You'd be like heaven to touch... I wanna hold you so much"

"Oh my god," I muttered.

"At long last love has arrived... And I thank God I'm alive... You're just too good to be true... Can't take my eyes off of you."

I tried to bite back my laugh. He shrugged at me with an embarrassed smile and stepped into the actual stands.

We both jumped when the marching band started playing. I looked to see Gabriel smirking and leading their march.

Sam and I shrugged at each other. He continued on with the act.

Now, Sam Winchester pretending to be Patrick in "10 Things I Hate About You" was a treat... and was exactly what you imagined it would be.

He was almost stumbling down the steps as he continued on with the act. I was laughing hysterically by the time I saw the security guards starting to run in.

"Sam," I yelled, pointing behind him.

"Crap," I heard through the mic (which made me almost double-over in laughter) as he tried to take off running.

As soon as he was grabbed, the scene changed.

We both took a deep breath when we realized we were sitting together in a car.

"Thank god," Sam mumbled.

"That was a great performance, by the way," I said, still chuckling.

"Shut up," he muttered, laughing along with me. We fell silent after a minute. "So... what scene is this?"

"I have no idea," I replied.

"It's Gilmore Girls, dumbasses," we heard Gabriel's voice but saw no sign of him. "Season 1, Episode 16... absolute idiots."

"Didn't peg him for a Gilmore Girls fan," I said. Sam laughed.

"Me neither."

We fell silent again.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, looking over at me. "You were right. You can defend yourself and you were just trying to help me. I'm sorry for being such a dick about it."

I grinned, "Thanks... I forgive you. I know you were just worried about me."

Sam smiled back.

"I... umm...," Sam looked down for a moment, clearing his throat and collecting his thoughts. "I just... I love you."

My heart leaped up into my throat. I blinked at him a few times and forced a chuckle out. Which was the wrong response but I panicked. Hunters... we could face the devil but emotions were a no-no.

"(Y/n)," Sam's smile dropped slowly when he realized I wasn't responding.

I was just about to respond when the scene changed again.

Sam was gone again and I was on a city street.

"Dammit," I muttered.

I ran down the street, turning the corner. I looked at the wall of the building I was by. Was this a jazz club?

I walked through the door and was guided to a table so I could sit down and watch the performance.

"La La Land," I said.

Sam and I watched this together. Dean had gone to bed. We weren't tired and just turned this movie on because it looked like it was mostly happy.

Big dance numbers, beautiful effects... and the epilogue that made me hide tears from Sam.

I looked at the stage. Sam was sitting there, wearing a suit, looking at the audience nervously. He hesitantly reached toward the piano. It was like it was a prerecorded track. It sounded just like the movie.

I smiled.

I just wanted to talk to him.

Soon the performance ended.

I stood up and started walking over, seeing Sam starting to walk out.

I grinned at him, "Sam-"

He cut me off by cupping the sides of my face and kissing me softly. I touched his sides lightly, smiling against his lips. It was... magic. Absolute magic.

Then, I shot awake, back in my bed in the bunker.

The game was over. Thank God.

"(Y/n)," I heard yell through the bunker hall.

I ran into the hall and ran toward his room.

We stopped as soon as we saw each other.

"Please tell me that wasn't a dream," I said. He shook his head, smiling widely at me.

I ran over, pulling him down to kiss him again. It was softer than our last kiss and I loved it. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me closer. I buried my hands through his hair.

"Woah, what did I miss," we pulled away when we heard Dean.

I could basically feel Sam chuckle against my lips before he moved to look at his brother. I turned around in Sam's arm.

"A chick flick moment," Sam answered.

"Alright," Dean gave us a weird look before leaving without another word.

I looked back at Sam with a smile, "I love you."

"I love you too," he grinned and leaned in to kiss me softly again.

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

Masterlist

What I Write For

Request Guidelines

Musical Prompts

Small Moments With…

When Worlds Collide (Doctor Who Crossover Series) Masterlist

Some Original Characters

folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)

[fandomimaginesftw]

Confessions(I)

This is part one of a short series I'm doing :)

Summary: A demon possesses Y/N, and spills to Sam exactly how they feel about him.

Word Count: 1,192

Warnings: Dirty talk, smut (eventually), Dom!Sam, Possessed!Reader

Pairing: Sam x Nonbinary reader (female anatomy)

I hope you enjoy it ~ I'm finally off of my hiatus (Sorry they keep happening I've learned a lot of personal things about myself and finally got help ^^

If you would like to be on a tag list, send me an ask :)

The sound of a mouthful of blood hitting the concrete sounded in the dungeon, Y/N’s pitch black eyes looking up at the younger Winchester. His body was tense, the muscle in his arms bulging, yet his face was one of guilt and sorrow. He didn't want to hurt his friend, but they needed to get some information, and Sam knew that Y/N would be pissed if he just exercised the demon. They were a hell of a hunter, and had an even better pain tolerance. A ring of purple already started forming around their left eye as a chuckle bubbled up from their possessed throat.

“Aww, Sammy, showing mercy so you don’t hurt your little friend? How sweet.” The demon used Y/N’s lips to smile, which just made Sam clench his jaw in the way that he does when he’s starting to feel trapped between a rock and a hard place. He sighed softly, going over to the table that had all kinds of weapons for torture. He reluctantly picked up the demon killing knife, looking over at his possessed friend with sadness in those beautiful hazel eyes of his. With a couple of long strides, he was back in front of them rather quickly. The demon looked up at him, leaning their head back with a smirk. “You know, I can give you some info, but it’s not what you’re looking for.” Sam tilted his head, confusion taking over his features.

“All I want to know is how I can get in touch with Crowley.” 

“You sure? This gossip is quite juicy. And it’s about you.” Sam took a deep breath, shaking his head.

“Just give me what I need and I won’t kill you.”

“Let’s be honest, Sammy, you won’t kill me either way. Because if you do, you’ll also kill your little fangirl here.” Sam scoffed, the thought of Y/N being a fangirl at all making him have to hold back a laugh. Y/N was always serious about hunts, and they always treated him like a brother. They did that with both of the Winchesters. They never showed any special treatment towards him, or Dean. Honestly it seemed to Sam that they didn't really even like the Winchesters all that much, so he knew right off the bat that this demon fuck was lying. 

“Y/N? Yeah, sure.” He leaned close to the demon, his arms resting on each arm of the chair Y/N’s body was currently bound to by devil’s traps. “So tell me what I want to know. Y/N would be fine with being stabbed if it meant killing you. So talk, bitch.” Anger started to rise in him as the demon’s black pools diminished, leaving Y/N’s beautiful eyes in their wake. He looked into them, trying to see if there's still any trace of his best friend in there. “Seriously, I know you know something. So talk and then get the hell out of them.”

“Ooh, Sam, you being so close made their body tingle. They love when you get close, that smell of sandalwood and gun powder really gets their motor revving.” The demon smirked, making Sam take a deep sigh.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope. They want nothing more than to give you a big ole kiss and let you do whatever you want. They’re kinda freaky in this little mind of theirs. All they ever think about is how strong you are, how good you smell, how brave you can be.” The demon let out a moan, purely to mess with him. “Tell me Sammy, have you ever thought about it? About how they would sound when you touch them in their special place? How you would feel when they moan your name? Or how they would squirm under you as you finger them? They think about it. All the time. You’re all they think about.” Sam felt his forehead glisten as Y/N’s voice moaned. 

He couldn’t lie, he had thought about it for a long time. Gods, had he thought about it. Y/N was unlike anyone he’d ever met. Their body was perfect to him. They may not like it but damn, he does. And their lips? He couldn’t stop looking at them most of the time, luckily though he’d never been caught. And the thoughts that roamed through his head when he was alone at night were purely pornographic, and it was always with them, with Y/N. He felt the denim he wore start to get a little tighter, and he knew he needed to do something before the demon used it against him. He turned back to the chair, knife tightly gripped in his fingers as he tried his best to move his mind off of the information he was just given.

“You’re lying, and if you aren’t gonna talk, I might as well just put you back where you belong.” He raised the knife, making it seem like he was about to stab the damned thing when it jumped, pleading for him to stop with their eyes, with Y/N’s eyes. 

“Wait! Okay, I’ll tell you what you wanna know.” The demon sighed of relief when he put the knife back down, waiting for them to speak up. He raised a brow, moving his hands in a motion as if to tell it to hurry and say something before he finished his earlier action. “Alright, here’s the truth. I don’t know where Crowley is, but I can tell you something you’ve wanted to know for a while now.”

“Hurry up, I’m tired of wasting my time.” Sam spoke with bass in his voice, getting very impatient with this spawn of satan.

“It’s something that’s been hidden for way too long now, and it’s just dying to be put out there into the air. Truth is, Sammy, you’re little Y/N here gets off on the thought of being your little toy. They want you to slut them out in every way possible. They would quite literally let you use any hole, any kind of dominance you want to show. They touch themselves to it all the time, a small squeak of your name at the end. It’s sweet really, how much they want you.” Sam felt his jeans get even tighter before grabbing their throat tightly, leaning in very close. 

“Shut your filthy mouth, demon trash. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” The demon smirked, looking right into his eyes, seeing them start to glaze over as he had his hand on Y/N’s throat in such a way.

“It’s true, their panties are absolutely soaking right now, they want you to check,” the demon choked out, smiling widely and laughing. Sam shook his head, deciding he’d had enough. He started the exorcism spell, watching as the demon writhed in pain before it was forced out of Y/N’s body, leaving them limp with shallow breaths. Sam raced over, wincing as his zipper almost scratched his tip. He picked up their dead weighted body, carrying them to their room with ease, tucking them in before leaving the room.

[calaofnoldor]

Fake It ‘Til You Make It

Characters: Sam x Reader (gender neutral), Dean

Words: 3,295

Summary: Dean and his lady of the night are being obnoxiously loud, so you and Sam devise a plan of retaliation.

Warnings: fluff, implied smut, wee bit o’ language, mutual pining and other fun tropes

A/N: thank you for all the love and support on “Dean, Don’t” (there will be a sequel due to positive feedback!) tbh, i’m not sure how i feel about this one, but every single like, comment, and reblog is always super-duper appreciated!

MASTERLIST

Another hunt for the books, another bar tab for your fake credit card. Another leggy blonde for Dean, and another evening spent harboring your secret yet ever-growing crush for Sam Winchester. This was becoming a pattern lately.

You'd decided to join the brothers on their last several hunts after bumping into (and nearly decapitating) Dean in a vamp-infested warehouse in Colorado. That night, you bought him a beer to recompense, but he was rather swiftly distracted by the busty barmaid, and you ended up talking to Sam all night instead.

There was an instant chemistry between the two of you, what with your shared passion for monster lore and college dropout histories, conversation always flowed easily and often without end.

Tonight had been no different, from the moment you walked into the rundown bar in Iowa, and immediately placed a bet on the fate of Dean's evening entertainment.

"Twenty bucks says he goes home with that blonde in the red dress over there," you jerked your head towards the woman in question.

"Oh, you're so on L/N. She's way too classy for him. My money's on that short one over there with the space buns."

"Deal," you shook on it, while struggling to ignore the spark his touch ignited.

Three beers in and you had almost completely forgot about your bet, until Dean swaggered over with one arm draped casually around the shoulders of his blonde conquest. "We're gonna head out for the night, see you guys later."

You waited until the front door closed behind them before turning to Sam with a triumphant grin. "Pay up, Winchester," you held your hand out expectantly.

“How are you so good at that? I’m the one who’s been watching him my whole life.” He shook his head with amiable amusement while digging out a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket.

You shrugged a little, “You learn to read people fairly quickly on the job.”

“Y/N, we have the same job.”

You pretended to ponder this fact for a moment, your brows furrowing, “I guess I’m just a better hunter then?” It was an obvious jest, and you both knew it, as evidenced by the wide, matching smiles that broke out across both your faces.

God, how you loved his smile, especially the genuine ones that brought out his dimples and lit up his eyes, but even more so, you adored any smile behind which you were the cause. Those you stored amidst your most cherished memories and replayed in your mind a hundred times over on nights when the insomnia hit… Oh no, had you been staring for too long?

Abruptly, you turned towards the bartender, waving the newly acquired bill in your hand, and proceeded to order the next round.

Fortunately, the night carried on with its jovial tone, and you were almost able to disregard the desire to touch Sam’s veiny forearms when he rolled up the sleeves of his plaid, or the need to run your hands through his luscious locks whenever a wayward strand fell before his glimmering eyes.

“I guess we should head out soon. Dean’s probably gonna want to leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Right, yeah.” At this point, you were feeling a little woozy from the alcohol, and Sam’s hands were suddenly grasping your biceps as you rose unsteadily from the barstool.

“I’m OK,” you laughed it off, but instantly missed the warmth of his palms that seemed to seep through your clothes and set your skin alight. Sam simply smiled at you, yet something in his eyes was so resplendent you felt goosebumps replace the fire along your arms. You must have been staring again, for Sam looked away somewhat embarrassedly and asked if there was something on his face.

Ugh, why did he have such an effect on you? You’d been around plenty of male hunters in the past, some nearly just as attractive, but you’d always managed to keep your wits about you. Indeed, your unrelenting rationality was usually a subject of pride for you, yet here you were, a blubbering mess after a mere touch on the arm and that stupid smile.

Looking down, you grumbled a quick apology and a senseless explanation that involved blaming the booze before you took off.

Sam followed after you, but not before double checking that you had grabbed all your belongings. There was a strong and instinctive urge to look after and protect that stirred within him whenever you were around, and he couldn’t neglect it if he tried.

It wasn’t that you were weak and needed someone to look out for you. Sam knew you’d been more or less hunting on your own for years now, and could certainly roll with the best of them, himself and Dean included. No, Sam knew you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, yet he still could not brush the nagging need to keep you safe and by his side whenever possible.

At times, he felt as if a spell had overcome him and he was no longer in control of his senses when it came to you. It was annoying, really.

Tonight, for instance, Sam could have sworn he spent the better part of your time at the bar glaring down any man who came within three feet of you, foolishly daring to try their chances with you. He was sure you’d notice his strange behavior at some point, but you simply talked the night away with him, smiling that stupendous smile, the one that made him lose his breath.

Everything about you enchanted him, and Sam often found himself wishing he could just dive in and kiss you, hold you in his arms and never let you go. He was sure you could read it all in his eyes by now.

To his disappointment, however, you never gave any indication of reciprocation, always treating him in a strictly platonic manner, whether intentionally or out of ignorance, Sam didn’t know. But he never dared make a move, and he convinced himself that he felt fortunate enough to have you as a friend.

The walk back to the motel wasn’t long, although Sam took deliberately small steps to prolong your time together. When you reached the brothers’ room, your eyes fell upon a grey sock dangling unceremoniously from the doorknob. So Dean had taken Blondie to his motel room.

“How’s that for classy?” you looked up at Sam with a small smirk.

He let out a huff of a laugh and shook his head while staring at the sock. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he spent a night in the Impala.

“Hey, why don’t you just come over to my room,” you suggested as you motioned next door, “We can chill in there for a bit, wait it out?”

Sam’s eyes shot up to your face. All he had to hear was “come over to my room,” and his brain immediately began imagining all the potential scenarios those five little words could lead to… if you felt even an inkling of what he felt for you. He gulped and tried to reel his thoughts in, meeting your gaze with a dreamy look.

“Um… yeah, OK, sure, yeah. That sounds good. I mean, you sure you don’t mind?” he stumbled out.

You laughed that brilliant laugh, “No, I should probably sober up a little before I sleep anyway.”

Sam nodded, afraid of what words might escape if he opened his mouth again, and the two of you made your way towards the adjacent motel room. He watched as your delicate hands worked the key and instantly took note of the angry red scrapes and cuts along your palm when you turned your wrist to unlock the door.

Brows knit with concern, Sam silently berated himself for failing to take better care of you. He remembered you took a nasty fall when the ghost had thrown you aside to get to the brothers as they burned the necklace that tethered it to this realm. You must have landed on the concrete and braced yourself with your hands.

As you both stepped into the dim and modest room, Sam was about to ask for your first aid kit when you suddenly brought your arms overhead and stretched out your lithe body with a soft, satisfactory grunt. When the hem of your shirt rode up, Sam had to look away to stop himself from staring at the anti-possession tattoo that peeked out above your hip bone. Just that sliver of skin was so alluring to him; he really was in deep.

When you lowered your arms back down, you sent him a small, apologetic smile, “Sorry, it just always feels good to do that after a hunt and a night out in town.”

Sam nodded again, still finding it difficult to come up with the right words, but then he remembered his previous mission. “Give me your hand.”

“W-what?” you stuttered, dumbfoundedly. It was your turn to wonder if you’d heard right.

“Your hand, let me see it.” He repeated, and this time he simply caught your wrist and took your hand gingerly in his, turning it such that your palm faced up, so he could examine the extent of the damage.

“Oh,” you breathed out, slightly relieved, “It’s fine, it’s just a scratch.” You tried to pull your hand out of his intoxicating grip, but he held on quite firmly.

“Y/N, we need to clean these and bandage them so they don’t get infected.”

He had pulled you rather close to him, to the point where you could feel his body heat emanating towards you, and you hated to admit the proximity was really messing with your mind. All you could think about was the deliciously muscled torso that surely lay beneath those layers of cotton, and what it would feel like to run your hands across it.

Sam took advantage of your lack of response and led you to sit on the edge of the bed. As he went to look for the first aid kit, you couldn’t help but admire his backside, especially when he bent over to rummage through your duffle bag in the corner.

When he returned to your side, you quickly closed your jaw and reached over for the cleaning supplies, but he held it out of your reach and grasped your hand again instead. Your eyes met for moment, and almost as if on cue, a loud, lascivious moan came through the room’s thin walls.

Sam felt his cheeks heat up, and hastily averted his gaze. He mentally cursed his brother’s wanton ways, but when he heard your giggling, all was forgiven.

“I guess someone’s having a good time.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think this’ll be quite as enjoyable for you.” He motioned to the alcohol in his other hand with a sheepish smile, “I probably don’t need to tell you this is gonna hurt.”

You shook your head slightly, but still winced a little when he poured the disinfectant over your wounds.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry.” Sam sounded truly remorseful and you chuckled.

“What are you sorry for? It’s not like you threw me to the ground, and besides, you’re helping me now,” you murmured softly.

“Well you did get in it’s way to protect m- us. And I don’t like to see you in pain.”

He meant ‘people’ of course, you told yourself in vain. He’s obviously a nice guy and he doesn’t like to see anyone in pain. That’s why he’s a hunter. Duh.

You were trying, unsuccessfully, to slow your heart rate when another emphatic cry came from the direction of the older Winchester’s room.

“Oh! Oh my god!” The high pitch had your eyes widening.

“You can call me Dean, sweetheart,” came the muted reply.

You and Sam both rolled your eyes before he continued to treat and bandage your hand. His fingers, though rough, were improbably gentle against your skin and frequently sent shivers down your spine. It was all making you quite jittery and you really weren’t sure you could take it much longer. To exacerbate things, Dean and Blondie managed to vocalize their passions on at least five more occasions by the time Sam completed his work.

It was becoming rather aggravating, particularly because you found it extraordinarily hard to look Sam in the eyes or maintain a normal conversation with him when you were constantly getting bombarded by the sounds of his brother and his lady of the night copulating next door.

You stood as soon as Sam let go of your hand, needing to release some energy. “You know what, we can’t just let them dick us around like this all night!”

Sam laughed at your word choice and looked up at you, a fond curiosity shining through his eyes, “OK, but what could we possibly do to get back at them?”

You paused your pacing for a minute, racking your brain for an answer to their impudence. Sam watched as a gleam appeared in your eyes and a mischievous smile took over your features.

“I’ve got it! My friend and I used to do this back in college when our roommate brought dates home and they got a little too carried away. It’s basically a game of chicken.”

Sam raised his brow in question so you continued, “If they’re gonna be obnoxiously loud with their fornication rituals, then we can go at it too.”

“I-I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s simple. An eye for an eye. We don’t even have to make it sound real, just as long as it’s equally loud and disturbing.”

“Y/N, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting? That we pretend to have s-sex?” Sam was feeling considerably dubious about your plan, as he couldn’t imagine himself holding back if you were to act in any way sensual around him, even if it was all make believe.

Just then, another resounding squeal of pleasure travelled to your ears and before Sam could stop you, you took the opportunity to show him what you were talking about.

“Oh! Yes!” You exclaimed salaciously in return.

Sam’s eyes grew as he stared at you in disbelief. Your own eyes were closed and your face contorted to an expression of intense pleasure that Sam had only dreamed about. He couldn’t stop fidgeting in his place on the bed, thankful that the first aid kit still sat on his lap as he adjusted his trousers a bit.

“Y/N, I don’t-“

“Come on, Sammy, join me! Trust me, it works every time.”

Sam didn’t have time to contemplate how much he loved the sound of his childhood nickname rolling off your tongue because a second howl came from the next room, this time lower in pitch, though you were there to answer regardless. “Oh my gosh, yes! Right there!”

If Sam thought the effect that you had on him normally was overwhelming, he was undoubtedly unprepared for the way his body responded to you making ludicrously pornographic sounds not two feet from him. Everything seemed to disappear around him until only you remained and held the entirety of his focus.

“Ooh, faster! Harder, Sam!”

Fuck. You said his name. And you said it with lust in your voice. It was as if all his fantasies had come to life before him in some twisted and desperately maddening form. Something in him snapped, and before he knew it, he was standing across from you, staring fixedly at your face, as you shouted in unison.

“Ungh! Oh god, Y/N!”

“Yes, that’s it! Don’t stop!”

Sam’s deep voice compelled your eyes to snap open. He was already looking straight at you, and you could almost taste the tension.

“Oh, baby! You feel so good!”

You didn’t join him this time. You couldn’t. He had you in a trance, his lips, jaw, neck, shoulders, the way his chest moved towards you when he inhaled, the sheer size of him. It was all too much. So you simply stared, feeling your breath come and go faster than you were used to.

There was a split second, or perhaps it was a lifetime, in which the two of you stood still, eyes locked in a fiery exchange, but in the next instant you both lunged forward, lips and teeth and noses and bodies clashing in a passionate, long-awaited display of carnal thirst.

But the kiss ended far too soon for your liking. “Wait, wait, Y/N. I really want this, but you’re probably still drunk, and I don’t wanna take advantage of you or the situation.” Sam panted hurriedly.

You smiled at his chivalry yet shook your head in disagreement, “Sam, don’t be an idjit. I don’t think I’ve ever been more sober, and I definitely haven’t wanted anything more than this, right now.” Your voice was just as breathy.

Sam moved his hands back to your face and that glorious, dimpled smile returned, “Baby, are you sure?”

The nickname brought a flutter to your heart, “Yes, I swear to heaven and hell, if you don’t kiss me again, Sam Winchester-“

His lips cut yours off in another bruising yet completely satisfying declaration of need. Your back arched and he brought one hand down to pull your waist flush against his solid form.

“Mmph,” you moaned against his mouth.

God, Sam couldn’t handle the sounds you made. A man could only hold back for so long. His enormous moose hands frantically grabbed at your ass, hoisting you into his arms in no time and carrying you back towards the bed.

Let’s just say Dean and Blondie truly had no idea of the spectacular and thunderous show they were in for.

The next morning, Sam awoke with a warm weight on his chest. He looked down to find your slumbering form nuzzled against him, head tucked beneath his chin and legs messily intertwined. A fond smile crossed his face as he subconsciously tightened his hold on you and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead. The feeling of elation didn't fade as he closed his eyes to rest again, but it did recede ever so slightly to the backburner when the door clicked and his brother came barging in. “Alright, rise and shine, lovebirds! That was quite the show you guys put on last night, hope it didn't-“ “Shhh! Dean, shut up!” Sam shushed his brother with a stage whisper whilst scrambling to cover your bare back with the disheveled sheets surrounding you, but Dean had already glimpsed the evidence. “Sammy, you sly dog!” He wiggled his brows, grinning proudly at his little brother, "And here I thought I was the only one who got laid last night." “Dean, get out.” "Yeah ok, I'm gone," he raised his hands in assent. "But tell your sweetheart we're leaving in twenty," Dean added before he finally let the door shut behind him.

His sweetheart. Sam sure liked the sound of that. The corners of his lips struggled not to raise with glee. "Mm, was that Dean?" you mumbled against Sam's chest, fingers tracing the ink of his anti-possession tattoo with half-lidded eyes. "Yeah, just came to tell us we're leaving in twenty." He gave your hip a gentle squeeze "He knows, doesn’t he?" You rubbed your eyes with a yawn. Sam chuckled at your adorably sleepy state. “Yeah, sorry…” he trailed off, unsure of how you would respond to the news.

“Well, don’t be. That just means I get to do this whenever I want.” You lifted your head to kiss him hard, and his hands instinctively cradled your face, pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap and completely awake.

“You know, I think we still have about 15 minutes.”

“I like the way you think, Winchester.”

A/N #2: thank you so much for reading! i’d now like to apologize for this obligatory self plug, but there’s new stuff available at lexicolor.redbubble.com, just fyi :)

[watermelonlipstick]

Hot Blood

This was written as a request for an anon who asked:

hi! i was wondering if you could write a dean fic where he’s with the reader in their car and hot blood by kaleo comes on, the reader sings along, their voice is really good, and dean realizes he’s in love w the reader

First of all, great song! I hadn’t heard a ton of Kaleo before, but I’ve put them into my rotation so thanks for the recommendation! I hope it’s okay that I took a few liberties with the format because it felt right with the angle; it’s from Dean’s point of view so the reader is in third person. 

Title: Hot Blood

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1251

Summary: Hearing the reader sing along to Kaleo makes Dean realize his feelings about her are a lot more complex than he’s ever realized. 

Warnings: swearing, pining, fluff, sexual frustration?

            “The fuck is this?” Dean asks as she turns up the radio.

           “The band’s called Kaleo—you’ll like them, they’re from Iceland!” she yells, starting to groove and hum along as the volume starts pounding through the speakers. She doesn’t hear when he repeats her—Iceland?

           When she starts singing along to the radio her voice is somehow not what he expected—lower? Higher? He can’t even really tell, but that wasn’t the thing anyway, it’s that she’s…haunting. That’s it. The song is up tempo, the kind of rock beat he can tolerate even if it’s a poor facsimile of the greats, and that’s the crux of the hypnosis as she sings. Somehow, even howling along to a repetitive chorus, wind blowing the hair back from her face with the window of the Impala cracked a few inches, sides of her thumbs tapping the drumline out over the thighs of her jeans, it’s like she’s chanting a spell, triggering that deep-primal interconnectedness of a particularly vicious exorcism or bit of creation magic.

           Maybe that’s just the closest he can get to placing it. The shock of how fucking good she is notwithstanding—and she is seriously good, makes Dean think of Janis and Chrissie Hynde and maybe even Joni Mitchell who he knows is a genius even if he might never admit it aloud—appreciating a killer singer never makes Dean feel like this, like he has to consciously focus on the road after the hundreds of thousands of hours he’s driven in his life for the way his brain wants to forego everything else on earth for that fucking voice.

           Thank God for the bridge or Dean might’ve missed the turn, nothing else on the miles of wheatfields surrounding them he could even pretend to be distracted by but her. As it is, he takes it a little tight, and she smoothly reaches a hand through the open window to brace herself on the doorframe as the Impala carves out some rural dirt. Momentum shifts her a few inches across the leather toward him, sweet-salty shampoo and cherry chapstick scent of her dusty in the dry late summer afternoon wrapping him up like a boa constrictor, like tentacles, and he’s gotta immediately stop that connection because tying this moment to his Japanese erotica is going to fry his brain so bad he might actually have to pull over.

           “See? I knew you’d like it,” she half-howls over the radio, laughing like nothing in this world matters except whether Dean’ll listen to some dumb song for her, and the sliver of tongue that catches the glisten of sunlight as she does is making Dean feel sort of queasy the way he did at 16, snuck into a bar with his dad as a reward for a hunt gone well and trying his best not to stare at the soft swells of the bartender’s body as she shook a tumbler of Vegas bombs, winking at him from across the room. John had made some half-joke about being careful with girls like that and Dean knew he was just being confronted with his son growing up, but he’d heard him loud and clear—a girl like that will drive you crazy, make you eat yourself up with want from the inside out. In that bar he’d been grateful for the low lighting and high top table to shield the physical weakness of his want but he’s a grown ass man now and he thinks maybe going crazy wouldn’t be so bad, maybe he could throw Baby in park and all the good karma he’s ever racked up would bless him in that moment, let him taste that tongue catching tiny sparks of sun beautiful and dirty and impossible to resist like a diamond from the dark mine of her mouth, feel that fucking voice vibrate under his fingertips as he tangled himself into the brambles of her.

           And then the bridge is over. She’s turned the volume back up and is pulling exaggerated rock star faces as she sings to him. It takes a second before Dean realizes smile you fucking idiot and is sure he’s grimacing, hopes that the sunny day is enough to cover the flush he can feel in his cheeks and what the fuck is wrong with him? She’s not a siren, not some fuck-you-so-good-you-don’t-care-if-she-boils-your-bunny chick across a smoky bar, those jeans aren’t magic and in fact they were washed with his, ‘I don’t want to do a whole load, just let me throw my shit in with yours’ while she sat on the laundromat counter in worn cartoon pajama pants. That tongue—fuck, her tongue, why does this fucking song have so many “L” sounds in it—is the same one that sticks out round and juvenile like Charlie Brown’s when she’s reading something complicated.

           When the song ends Dean’s white knuckling the steering wheel like he’s in a tropical storm and he can’t help but feel relieved. Back to the safety of his tapes, who would never try to pull whatever black magic bullshit that was on him. He takes a deep breath and promises himself to get laid at the next chance he gets lest he seriously fuck up like some hormone-stupid teenager. She’s put in a Chicago B side and he says a silent prayer because that’s exactly the kind of soft-sappy he needs to counteract this. Enough even that he trusts himself to confirm that it’s over, that momentary frenzy nothing but a blip of testosterone fueled by her disclosing a hidden talent. Maybe he can even compliment how well she sings without sounding like he wants to crawl inside her.

           He almost does a double take when it’s still—like that, filter of unbelievable need unmoved from any part of her and he wants to fucking eat her alive, let her flay him open and wear him like a coat if that’s what she wants and he knows he is so fucked.  She’s turned down Chicago to tell him something cool Sam figured out about snow spirits and yeti mythology the other day and it’s all he can do to focus on the right times to make vaguely affirmative noises or smile, because he’s trying to work out in his head how he’s going to be able to keep his brother from reading on his face how bad he’s got it the second they walk through the motel door. For all he knows Sam is going to say some slick shit about how he’s happy Dean’s finally figured it out for himself, the fucking know-it-all.

           It takes a second for him to catch it when she asks him a question, and she looks a twinge concerned when he doesn’t respond right away. Gonna have to do better than that, dumbass. “Sorry, what?”

           “You feeling okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

           Not if I can help it. “Yeah, sorry. Just, ah, need a sandwich or something, I’m starving.”

           She throws her head back into the seat to laugh and a million coins pouring out of a Vegas jackpot couldn’t sound more precious. “We ate like an hour ago!” She shakes her head teasingly back at him, wide smile beaming like a dentist’s ad. “I fucking love you, dork.”

           He knows it’s not what she means, but he lets the words make his blood run hot.

-

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~S u p e r n a t u r a l~ CasxReader: “Crazy In Love”

IMAGINE: After risking their lives for a mysterious piece of clay, Sam, Dean, and (y/n) get a call that something happened to Cas at the hospital (s7 e21).

“Well, c’mon Meg! Give us more details! Can you at least tell me if he’s ok?... What do you mean you don’t know?” Sam angrily spoke into the phone and (y/n) and Dean exchanged scared looks as they anxiously waited to hear about the news of their best friend. Approximately an hour before all of this stress and anxiety appeared the Winchester brothers and their closest companion (y/n) Singer were hiding out in an old, abandoned jail staring at the block of clay that lay on the dust covered table.

“So what I’m getting from this is… we risked our lives for a lump of clay?” Sam looked at the girl and shrugged with a reply, “There’s gotta be more to it than just that. I mean, the Leviathans were treating it like Dean treats his car!”

“Hey!” Dean snapped. “Don’t judge me.” Sam just rolled his eyes while (y/n) continued to think aloud. “Maybe there's something inside?” This earned an odd look from Dean and she huffed in frustration. “Wha- Well I don’t know! I’m running out of ideas. That’s all I’ve got goin’ on up here unless one of you can think of something better.” Sam and Dean shared a look then shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

Dean grabbed a hammer and Sam grabbed 3 pairs of goggles, handing them out to each person. After making sure everyone had their protective eyewear on, Dean brought the hammer up into the air and struck hard on the block of clay. The moment the hammer hit the clay, causing pieces to fly everywhere, a crack of lightning, a quick rumbling of thunder was heard, and the rusty building shook for a second. The three looked at one another without speaking a word and Dean soon continued on again. Once again, he struck the clay with the hammer and thunder rumbled and the building shook. “Um is it just me or is-”

“Ya,” Sam cut in, interrupting (y/n). “That’s not normal.” Dean debated whether or not he should continue. Whatever is in this block of clay was important enough that Leviathans were willing to sacrifice their lives for it. This could be something to end the apocalypse and put a stop to the death of mankind forever. With that, Dean repeated the actions of striking the clay with the hammer despite the loud thunder, bright lightning, and violent shaking of the building.

Eventually everything went quiet and all the clay was completely gone. (y/n) opened her eyes and released her tight grip on Sam’s arm while Dean let out a long breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding. The three stare down at what used to be a big pile of nothing and what now appeared to be a tablet. The tablet had golden writings or etching in it but neither one of them could make out what it was saying. It looked as if it were written in another language.

Before any of them could say one word, Dean received an urgent call from Meg that something had happened to Castiel back at the hospital and told them to meet her there ASAP. So that's what they did. Dean stuffed the tablet in a duffle bag and they got into the impala and drove off.

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

After they arrive at the hospital and sneak past a few security guards, Sam, Dean, and (y/n) finally make it to the door of Castiel’s hospital room, where Meg stands chewing her finger nails and pacing back and forth. She heard multiple footsteps and looked at the group with a sigh of relief. “It took you long enough. He’s in here.” Meg opened the door and nodded her head, giving them the ‘ok’ to step inside. They walk in and see Cas staring out the window. “Hey, Cas?” The angel slowly turns around, faces them, and replies with a short “Hello, Dean.”

Castiel looks at Sam and smiles softly. “Sam,” he says with a short nod. “Hey, Castiel.” Cas’s eyes move from the tall man to the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. That’s (y/n) Singer. Of course he has met her before. She is the daughter of Bobby Singer and an old friend of the Winchester family. She was there when Cas first connected with Dean and the taller brother and ever since then he has had feelings for her that he, as an angelic and Godly being, couldn’t quite comprehend.

To a regular human being this was a natural thing, but Cas has never experienced anything like what he experiences when he’s around her. When she flashes her perfect pearly white smile at him, he can’t help but stop mid sentence and stare at her and her beautiful eyes. When she accidentally brushes his shoulder as they pass each other or touches his shoulder as she speaks softly to him or takes his hand for comfort, his face turns color and his stomach feels like he just swallowed a bunch of butterflies. And her laugh… oh her laugh… how it makes him wish he could listen to it forever. The way she scrunches up her nose as she projects this beautiful human noise from her perfect lips makes the corners of his mouth turn up slightly in a way he isn’t all too familiar with. Cas has no idea what was happening to him. If anything, he thought he was sick. But a regular human being would classify that as love. Cas was in love with (y/n).

Cas struggled to find the right words to say as he approached her and stuttered an awkward, “Hello, (y/n).” The girl fought the urge to throw herself onto him and wrap her arms around his neck, breathing in his comforting scent as she embraced him in a big hug. Instead she put a smile on her worried face and spoke to him in the soft, calming tone that he was very fond of. “Cas.” They stared at each other for a while until Dean awkwardly cleared his throat to break some of the tension. “Look at you, walking and talking. That’s great right?”

Cas forcefully peeled his eyes away from the goddess before him and looked at Dean with a goofy smile on his face. The angel approached the oldest Winchester with his pointer finger towards him. “Pull my finger.” Dean looked from the outstretched finger to Cas with a very confused look on his face. “I’m sorry. What?”

“My finger,” Cas explained. “Pull it.” Dean stood there awkwardly for a moment before gripping Castiel’s finger. Cas raised his eyebrows at him as he waited for Dean to pull his finger and sure enough he did. The moment Dean did as he was told, all the lights in the room bursted and everyone jumped at the sudden noise. All of the shattered glass fell to the ground and the group stared at Cas in disbelief as he giggled to himself.

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

“So let me get this straight. You said you remember who you are? What are you?”

“Yes of course,” Cas replied. He then gasped and turned around as if he were reminded of something he meant to say a while ago. “Outside today in the garden I followed a honeybee. I saw the welt of flowers. It was all right there! The whole plan! There’s nothing to add.” (y/n) quirked an eyebrow as she watched his gorgeous blue eyes twinkle with excitement like he just got finished riding a roller coaster or running a marathon.

“And he’s been like this for how long?”

“He’s been like that naked guy at the raver ever since he woke up. Totally useless.” Meg replied and the girl just nodded her head in response. “Well, Cas, how are you feeling? Do you feel any different from before?” Cas looked to (y/n) with a look of adoration as he spoke, “Would you just look at her. My caretaker.” The brothers looked to (y/n) with questioning looks as she gave the same look to the clueless angel in front of her. “All of that thorny pain. So beautiful.”

“You’re crazy.” 

“Crazy in love,” Cas said, sighing contently as he continued to stare at her sweetly. Of course (y/n) was flattered by this sudden affection from the angel she’s been crushing on since she first laid eyes on him, but he is obviously not in his normal Cas-like state. For all she knows this could all just be a misunderstanding and when (or if) they get him back to normal he wouldn’t even remember saying those things. After giving out long, awkward hugs and sharing random fun facts about cat penises, Cas revealed how exactly he became like this and that the tablet was The Word of God. “Ok well what does it say?” Cas crossed his arms and stuck out his lip. “No.”

“What the- Cas how old are you? Just read the friggin’ tablet!” Dean yelled frustrated.

“No.”

“Cas I swear on everything sacred if you don’t read this tablet right now so help me i will-”

“ Cas,” (y/n) spoke, cutting Dean off. Cas uncrossed his arms and straightened his posture as his facial features softened.

“Yes, my love?”

“Will you please try your hardest to read this tablet? It is very important that we find out what this says. You may even help save the world if you dooo,” (y/n) bribed, singing the last part. When Cas didn’t respond she pushed a little more. “Please, Cas? It would mean the world. Can you do it for me?” She ran a hand down his arm gently as she batted her eyelashes. Cas was sure his knees were going to give out on him any second now. He grabbed her hand off of his arm and clasped it tight with both of his hands, tucking the tablet under his arm. “I would do anything for you (y/n).

Cas held up the tablet and stared blankly at it for a while. Dean began to grow impatient. “Well?” Cas cleared his throat as he began an attempt in interpreting. “Uhhhh tree…” he looked around at everyone for a second. When no one responded and continued to stare at him, obviously expecting more information, he looked back to the tablet and continued. “Horse. Fiddler crab. I can’t read it. It wasn’t meant for angels.”

“Alright,” Meg cuts in. “This all sounds bad. What are you two idiots doing with the word of God? Let me see that thing.” She takes a step towards Castiel but is stopped when Dean tells her to back off. “C’mon Dean. It’s my life on the line too.” Cas froze and stared at the ground uncomfortably with wide eyes. “I said. Back. Off. Meg.”

“Dang it enough of this ‘demons are second class citizens’ crap!” Cas suddenly cut in saying “Don’t like conflict” and teleported out of the room, letting the tablet drop to the ground and break into 3 pieces. “What the h*ll was that?” Meg just scoffed and crossed her arms. “You heard him. He doesn’t like conflict.” She flashed a cocky smile causing Dean’s jaw to clench and his hands to ball into fists.

“You know what? We don’t have time for this crap. (y/n), you deal with the tablet, Sam, you do research on how to read this friggin’ thing, and I’ll go talk to Cas.”

“Actually, Dean.” (y/n) cut in making Dean stop at the doorway and look at her. “Maybe I should go with you to talk to Cas. You and him do have a special bond but I have a strong feeling that the little amount of patience you have isn’t going to be enough at the moment.” Sam and Meg chuckled slightly but Dean ignored them. “Ya I guess you’re right. Alright. You come with me. Sam, will you please pick up the… “Word of God”? And do not let that demon get the tablet.” Sam looked at Meg awkwardly and shrugged and she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

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

After finding Cas in the main room sitting quietly at a table, Dean sat in front of him and tried to talk to him while they played a game of “SORRY!”, requested by the lost angel himself. “Alright, Cas, where can we find this ‘Metatron’ guy? Is he even still alive?”

“I-I’m sorry. I believe you have to go back to start.” (y/n) giggled, earning a glare from the oldest Winchester, making her cover it up with a cough. Dean looked at the board game in front of them on the table where Cas was pointing and begrudgingly moved one of his pieces back to start like instructed. He then proceeded in his attempt to reason with the angel. “Cas, this is important.” Cas once again pointed to the board, signalling that it was now Dean’s turn to pick up a card from the stack that was located in the middle of the board.

Dean angrily picked up a card, read it in his head, threw it down, and moved his piece to where the card told him to. “I think Metatron could stop a lot of bad. Do you understand?” (y/n) could tell he was growing angry and very impatient with Cas. She quietly stood against the wall, watching anxiously. “We live in a sorry universe.” Cas held up a card that said ‘SORRY’ on it and continued to explain.

“It is engineered to create conflict. I mean, why should I prosper from your misfortune?” When he spoke he moved pieces around where they belonged and carried on as if he were simply talking about the weather versus the end of the world as we know it. There was no concern or emotion or feeling in his voice as he talked- whereas Dean and (y/n) held on to every word he said as they listened intently. “But these are the rules. I didn’t make them.”

“You made some of them. When you tried to become God. When you cut that hole in the wall.”

“Dean…” The two sat there looking at each other for a while before Cas continued. “It’s your move.” At this Dean slammed his hand on the board game and swiped it off the table forcefully. “Forget the damn game!” Cas looked down at his lap meekly and (y/n) took this as her que to intervene. “Dean! Woah, woah it’s ok. Calm down.” She put a hand on his arm, soothingly rubbing up and down making Cas stare. His mood quickly changed from shy to jealous as he watched (y/n) comfort Dean instead of him. Dean shook his head and stormed off leaving (y/n) and Cas alone. (y/n) took the seat Dean had previously been sitting in and looked to Cas with desperate eyes. Cas took notice of this and sat up straight with his hands folded on the table, giving her his undivided attention.

“Let's forget the game for one second. Is that ok with you?” Cas cutely looked to the side for a moment as he thought about the answer then nodded his head. (y/n) couldn’t help but smile at him. Although he wasn’t his true self right now she couldn’t help but notice how helpless and adorable he was being. He looked like a lost puppy. “Is there any way at all that you can help us?” Cas sadly shook his head and replied, “I’m sorry (y/n). I really am.” She could hear the sincerity in his voice. “It’s not your fault, Castiel.” He noticed her slumped shoulders and sad expression and thought of ways to try and cheer her up.

“M-Maybe when this whole thing is over with I can take you to a park.” (y/n) laughed making Cas’s cheeks heat up. “The park?”

“Ummm yes? Wait, no. I meant to say the strip club. Or was it the bar?”

“Cas, what are you talking about?” she giggled. “Well, quite some time ago Dean told me that if I liked a girl I should take her out somewhere. That and to wear protection, which is why I bring my angel blade everywhere I go,” Cas stated as a matter of factly and (y/n)’s eyes went wide as she attempted to hold back a laugh. “But it appears to me that I’ve forgotten where exactly I’m supposed to take you.”

“Wait a second. You like me?”

“Duh,” Cas chuckled and snorted as if she had told him a funny joke. “(y/n), I have been very fond of you since the day we met. Over the years you’ve made me feel things that I'm sure no angelic being has ever had the opportunity to experience. At first I was scared I was becoming ill with all the odd sensations in my stomach when you’d laugh or the muscle pains in my cheeks from smiling so much when you’d speak to me or even my face getting hot when you’d accidentally touch my shoulder. But after getting some professional advice from Dean I realized that I am truly in love with you.”

(y/n) had no idea what to say. She couldn’t believe that the angel she had fallen for after all these years had confessed to being in love with her. “Well in that case, maybe you’d like to take me to the ‘Bow Tie Bar’ right down the street here sometime.” Cas looked up, surprised that she accepted his invitation and nodded quickly. He was like a kid in a candy store. “Alright then. It’s a date.” A big smile made its way to Cas’s face along with a red tint to his cheeks. “D-Date. Right. Yes.” (y/n) laughed at his nervous stuttering and they sat in a comfortable silence for a moment. She then watched as his smile slowly faded and his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Um, (y/n)?”

“Yes, Castiel?”

“Why exactly does the bar have a bow tie?”

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Halt & Catch Fire: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: You're done being a puppet in their plans. You're done letting them control you. You're finally going to take back your life by becoming something you didn't know was possible. your eyes are opened to something better and God forbid anyone who disrespects you.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

"Want me to hit him?"

You look at him with a frown. "What?"

"For treating you like that. He shouldn't get away with it." 

"I deserve it," you sigh, trying to keep the tears from falling.

"Like hell you do, sweetheart. No one should treat you like that. I wish I could give you more than you deserve. You don't deserve this life that we live, and you definitely don't deserve the shit other men send your way."

"Come on, Dean. My mom is gone and it's my fault she died. I watched her as her life drained away, and I did nothing to help."

"You were seven. What could you do against a monster?"

He's right but you can't help but think it's your fault.

"I just wish that sometimes it was me instead of her," you whisper.

You've never really thought about death or dying yourself. This is just one of those hard times.

"No, don't you dare think like that!"

Dean grabs your cheeks gently and makes you look at him. He wipes your tears away with his thumbs. God, his hands are so warm.

"What do you want me to say?" you ask and lean into his touch. 

"Nothing. Don't say anything. You are so beautiful and smart and kind and funny. You know me better than anyone and frankly, you're the only girl I let in. Please don't think like that."

"I thought he wanted to kiss me," you whisper. 

"What?" 

"He was going to kiss me and then people came out laughing at me."

"He doesn't deserve you kissing him. You're too good."

He inches closer to you but you don't notice him doing so.

"What, and you are?" you laugh humorlessly.

"I hope so."

Dean is but a whisper away from you. The butterflies come back, your cheeks heat up, and your palms become sweaty. This time is different. Dean wouldn't humiliate you like that.

"Dean," you mutter.

"Please say yes."

You answer him by closing the gap and kissing him. You're not sure what to do but Dean takes over immediately. He kisses you like how you're meant to be kissed. You never want this moment to end.

I slide across from her in the booth just as she grabs the menu and starts looking through it.

"Dean, what are you getting? Wait, why am I even asking? I know what you want," she laughs, snorting slightly at the end.

"Oh you do, do you?"

I lean back with a smirk, eager to see just how well she knows me.

"Oh yeah. Watch this." The waitress comes back with her pad and pen and introduces herself. "I'll have the bacon cheeseburger with ketchup on the side and a coke. He'll have the same thing but instead of ketchup on the side, he'll have pickles on it. I don't know why, since pickles and bacon are a very weird combination but he likes it. That will also be with a Coke. Could we also get an extra plate of fries since he always likes to take mine? Can we get it with bacon bits? We love bacon. I'm sorry, am I going too fast?"

I stare at her like she's the only woman in the room. How does she know all of this? I guess after years of going to diners and ordering the same thing over and over again helped her memorize my order. There's something about the way she speaks that makes me see she knows more than what is necessary.

Just seeing her like that, talking about my likes and dislikes, makes me see her in a new light. Yes, she's attractive. Yes, she's the closest woman I've ever known. Yes, she's my best friend, but maybe there should be more to it than that. 

I just never notice the way her eyes light up when she talks about me or the way she laughs at my horrible jokes. She has a smile whenever she's with me, and I fail to notice that detail. I'm the one who put it there. 

I want to keep it there. I want to hear her laugh because, to me, it's the most beautiful sound ever. I want to see her smile because, to me, it's the most beautiful thing ever. I want to hear her tell me about her day or about how she kicked some monster's ass because when she gloats, she's happy. 

I want her to be happy. 

I want to make her happy. I never realized it before now but I love her. I am in love with her. Why it took me this long to realize it, I may never know but it doesn't matter now. All that matters is that I know now.

"What's your favorite memory? Any kind of memory of us."

You move closer to Dean which he doesn't seem to mind.

"The earliest memory that I have of you," he smiles.

"Do tell."

"It was the day you found me in the bathroom, bawling my eyes out. I was five and I was sad about my mom, and I didn't want to see anyone so I don't know why I picked the bathroom to hide in. Anyway, you come waltzing in with your bag of Legos, demanding to know what was wrong."

Dean smiles as if this happened yesterday and not eighteen years ago.

"Oh, that's right. You were a stubborn ass. I was just doing what I had to do."

"You told me that you would share your mom with me. At that moment, I knew."

"Knew what?" you whisper.

"That you would be my best friend. I was right. Eighteen years later, you're still my best friend."

"I was going to be your best friend no matter what you said," you smile.

"What is your favorite memory?" he asks.

"You know, you were my first kiss. Ever. I remember being humiliated by that douche, I forget his name. I remember walking home that night, crying, and there you were, saving me like you always do. Then you said some nice words to me and you kissed me. Remember that?"

Your voice has dropped to a whisper but you're so close to Dean that he can hear every word clearly.

"Yeah, I do remember." 

Dean tucks a strand of hair behind your ear but keeps his hand on your cheek. He runs his thumb along your cheekbone before moving it down to your jaw. You're not sure if it's because it's dark, you're so close to him, or his hand on your cheek, but you find yourself inching closer to him.

This is it. This is the moment that will be forever yours.

"So now that this is all over, you can drop me off at a bus station," you say.

"Wait, what?" Dean asks, shocked.

"Dean, I'm leaving. I already told you."

"Like hell, you will."

"Fine, I guess I'll walk." 

You get out of the car without your things. You have your mom's letter, the extra key to the Impala, your wallet, and your phone. Everything else can be replaced later.

"Y/N! Stop!" Dean says and exits the car.

"You said it yourself, Dean. You want me gone."

"I didn't mean it all. You were just pissing me off with the stuff you kept saying."

"What did you want me to say, Dean? That woman broke your heart and you expect me to be okay with you crawling back to her? I was there when you came crying to me. I fought so hard with myself trying not to go over to her and kill her. She broke you down after using you. You don't deserve her, Dean." 

"Why is this affecting you this much? It was my feelings she hurt. Not yours." 

"You won't get it, Dean, just forget about it." 

You turn to leave but Dean runs out in front of you to stop you. He's not done with this conversation.

"No, tell me. Why are you so concerned for me?" 

"You care about the people you love, Dean," you blurt out.

This time is different than the times you've told him you love him. This one holds a different meaning.

"You love me?"

"You know, what, never mind. I knew this was a bad idea."

You don't think you can handle the heartbreak that might come.

"Y/N." It's how softly he says your name that makes you look up at him. "How come you never told me?"

"What did you want me to say? You flirt with girls all the time and I didn't want to be that girl that you hung out with and waited until you found someone better. I guess you already did, huh?" 

Dean doesn't give you time to cry. He pulls you in by your waist and leans down to kiss you. You've waited eleven years to kiss him again. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back. After a few seconds, you pull away and look into his green eyes.

"I was so blinded by Cassie that I didn't see who was right in front of me. You've been by my side since we were five years old. I didn't realize that by being with Cassie, I was hurting you."

"It's me or her. You have to choose."

"You, always you," Dean mutters and kisses you again.

"I can't believe she's gone," Bobby says, his voice broken, "and I barely knew her." 

"I'll tell you anything you want to know."

Sam is trying to keep it together but he can't believe you're dead. Dean, on the other hand, is a complete wreck. You're the love of his life. He was supposed to be there for you and he failed you. It's his fault you died. It's always his fault.

"You know, I fell in love with you when we were nineteen. I took you out to a shitty diner in a shitty town but it didn't matter because you were with me. You busted out our orders so fast, it surprised even me. God, why did I have to take so long for us to be together?

"I tried protecting you but I did a shitty job at that too. I guess that's what I do and I guess that's what I always do. I let everyone down. I don't deserve you. You don't deserve me. You deserved something better and now you can't have that so I'm sorry."

Dean holds your cold hand in his warm one as he cries for you.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Silence befalls the room. "You know what?" Dean stands and grabs his keys, wallet, and a few extra things. "I'm going to make it right. I'm going to make it right."

"Back," Lilith says and tries to use her powers on both you and Sam. It doesn't work. You still continue to advance on her. "I said, back!"

Before Sam can stab her with Ruby's knife, she takes the easy way out and smokes out. Ruby's meat suit falls to the ground with no one inhabiting it. Dean lies on the floor with a shredded body and barely any life in him.

"Dean!" You slide on your knees and touch his shoulders, and his lifeless eyes are looking back at you. "Please wake up!"

The realization hits you that the love of your life is dead, and you tip your head back and wail. This panic attack is much worse than the other ones. Dean isn't here to make it better. The entire house shook under your magic with things sliding off the walls and breaking. The door opens behind you and you turn to your dad and Sam who are standing there with tears in their own eyes.

"He's gone." Your voice cracks as you sob. "He's gone."

"Where's Sam?" you ask and take another bite of your Chinese food takeout.

"Out at a bar, I think."

"I'm surprised you're not with him. It's kind of your scene."

"I wanted to spend time with you," he says in a genuine tone. 

He winks at you and you turn away before he can realize you're blushing. At this very moment, you're not stressed. There is no angel or demon business. There is nothing that can take this moment away from you.

Dean, on the other hand, is a nervous wreck. He's been wanting to give you something for a while now but didn't know when the right time would be. Now is the time. 

"Hey, I have something for you," he says nervously.

"What is it?" you ask and take another bite.

"Open it." He slides a small ring box on the table toward you. You stare at the box before looking at Dean. You swallow your food, set your chopsticks down, and slowly open the box. Inside is a gorgeous simple yet elegant diamond ring. "You said my ring was too big for you." He takes the ring out and slides it on your right ring finger. "I was serious when I said this ring would represent my promise to always love you. You said to get a real one, and I did."

"Dean, this is beautiful," you whisper. "Where did you get this?"

"Pawnshop," he chuckles.

"I love you," you say with a teary smile.

x

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[there-must-be-a-lock]

Breathe

Dean x Castiel

Word Count: ~2580

Warnings: Dean feels. Angst with a happy ending. 

A/N: This is my finale fix-it to tie up some loose ends and patch some holes. 100% canon compliant, but... better! 

Thanks to @rockhoochie​ for the read and @thoughtslikeaminefield​ for all the cheerleading. 

Dean wants to scream, wait. 

Wait, Cas. 

Just a minute. 

I need a minute to breathe, Cas. 

I need more time. Please. 

It’s all too much, too much to process, too much to feel, and then the Empty is sending tendrils of black oozing nothingness up Cas’s face, smothering him, taking him away, and… 

There isn’t any more time. He’s gone. 

Dean is out of time, and he can’t breathe, let alone speak, and Cas is gone before Dean can say, I love you too. 

—

Of course Dean loved him, but… 

Family, they’d always said. It never occurred to Dean that it could’ve been… that. That it could’ve been more. Something new. 

Whenever he starts thinking about it, trying to examine his feelings a little closer, he feels like he’s drowning. The loss is so big, right now. There’s no room for anything else, and it’s terrifying, how easily it could pull Dean under. 

Dean tells himself there will be time. After they get Chuck, after they end this thing… yeah. He’ll have time. He’ll figure it out. 

Later. When it doesn’t hurt so much. 

— 

Dean’s not really sure what to do with his free will, now he has it. He doesn’t feel any different. He thought it’d feel different somehow. 

He’s tired. He’s not a goddamn hero any more; there’s no all-powerful asshole putting cosmic Tiger Balm on his sore muscles for the sake of the fucking narrative. He aches, now, and some mornings he wakes up feeling like he’s been holding the actual weight of the world on his shoulders. 

All that loss is a heavy thing to carry around. He’s getting too old to play Atlas. 

It gets easier, but not by much. There are still things that Dean can’t say out loud. He hasn’t even said the name. 

His dad always said it was selfish to waste time on shit like that. Can’t be sittin’ around feeling sorry for yourself when there are people to save, things to hunt… 

Plenty of things to hunt, that’s for damn sure. It feels mundane after what they’ve been up against, but there are plenty of monsters; they keep Dean busy enough that he doesn’t have time to dwell. 

No apocalypses. No gods, no angels. Just Sam and Dean and their dog, and one hunt after another. 

—

“I know you’re not telling me everything,” Sam says quietly, over breakfast one morning. “You gotta talk about Cas at some point, Dean.” 

“Soon.” He clears his throat. “Soon. I need some time before I can talk about… him.” 

“Dean.” 

“Cas. Before I can talk about losing Cas. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

It’s quiet for a few minutes as they eat their eggs. 

“How’s Eileen?” Dean asks quietly. 

Sam sighs. “We’re taking it slow. Maybe it’s stupid. I know she’s alive, but…” 

“You lost her.” 

“I lost her. And that’s all mixed up with… with how much I love her. I don’t know how to feel one without the other right now.” 

Dean almost laughs at that. Trust Sam to find exactly the right words for what Dean hasn’t been able to admit to himself. 

Love isn’t just love, it’s loss, and the fear of loss, and the knowledge that most people leave. They leave, and it hurts like hell. Dean doesn’t even remember what it’s like to love someone without expecting to lose them. Loss goes hand in hand with love, especially if you’re a fucking Winchester. 

“Like I said,” Dean tells him. “You need time. We both do.” 

Something shifts in Sam’s expression, like he understands, and Dean looks away. 

—

Dad always insisted that Dean make his bed in the morning. It had to be neat, everything tucked in tight… his dad learned it in the military. He taught Dean in turn, beat it into him until the lesson stuck, and Dean’s never been able to shake the habit. 

Until now. 

His dog is ready to go out and chase a frigging frisbee for a while. Dean doesn’t want to spend another five minutes making sure his bed is up to goddamn military standards. He wants to throw a frisbee and drink some coffee and hit the frigging road. 

So that’s what he’s going to do. 

It’s scary, but in a good way, like the last moment when a rollercoaster pauses before it drops. 

What’s the use of free will if he’s still following orders from a memory? 

—

That night, when he comes in and sees his rumpled sheets, Dean can’t breathe. He grabs the bottle of whiskey from the nightstand and heads right back out again. 

He knows Jack talked about being everywhere, but it feels better in the open air. Easier, somehow. The knot in Dean’s chest loosens slightly when he turns his face up to the moon. 

“Jack?” he says tentatively. “Jack, I dunno if you’re listening, buddy, but… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… all of it. Being a fuckin’ hardass. Treating you like you weren’t part of the family. You were always part of the family. You hearin’ this?” 

There’s no real answer, but Dean didn’t really expect one. He takes a slug of whiskey, wipes his mouth, takes another, and for a second he thinks it’s the alcohol, giving him that funny warm feeling.  

“Hi, Jack,” he manages. “I’d pour one out for you, but… seems like a fuckin’ waste, if you’re… I dunno. In everything, or whatever.”

This is a happy sort of warmth; it lingers. 

“My dad would say I’m being selfish, right now. Feelin’ sorry for myself. Looking back. Wasting my time wishing things could be different. But…” 

Dean looks up at the stars again. They go blurry. 

“I just — fuck. Fuck it. I don’t know what to say.” 

He sits down on the ground, head in his hands, and takes a moment to be selfish. 

—

Dean feels a little thrill the first few times he leaves his bed unmade. After about a week, it starts to feel like a new habit. 

In the morning, he ignores his dad’s voice in his head. At night, he takes his fifth of Jameson outside and sits under the stars. 

It’s quiet, nothing but crickets and wind to keep him company, but he’s not alone. Jack’s right there, waiting, whenever Dean takes the time to listen. 

He gets that glow in his chest every night. It feels like Jack’s smile did, when he waved goodbye: warm and bright and pure. It feels like his mom’s hugs used to, back when he was a kid. It feels like comfort. 

Little by little, day by day, it gets easier. The kid’s always there, waiting for him, even if Dean doesn’t know what to say. 

What would happen if he prayed to Cas? 

No. No point in wondering. Dean knows that the answer is nothing. Nothing — abso-fucking-lutely fuck-all. There would be no answer, no rustle of wings, no raspy “Hello, Dean” — he would pray, and it would be silent, because Cas is gone. 

Dean missed his chance.

—

“You out there, Jack?” 

He’s out there. Dean’s starting to trust that he’ll always be there. 

“I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to be me, not him. I don’t want to be him. ” 

He has to pause and take a deep breath. He’s been thinking about how to say it all day, and the words still don’t come easy. 

“I want to be the person you thought I could be. You and Cas, you always thought —” He takes a long drink. “— fuck. My dad didn’t — he didn’t say that enough, and I wish he’d taught me how to — how to tell people. I love you, Jack. I’m sorry. I should’ve said that sooner. To you, and… to a lot of people, probably.” 

The tears start to spill over, hot and stinging, and it’s okay, Dean reminds himself. Jack’s still there. He’s not leaving. 

“It hurts too much,” he admits, and his voice breaks. “Thinking about what I could’ve had, if I hadn’t… wasted all that time. I should’ve told Cas.” 

Dean doesn’t fight the tears. He lets himself cry until there’s nothing left, until his eyes are puffy and his voice is raw. 

When he gets up, brushes himself off, wipes his cheeks, he feels lighter. It still hurts, but he feels lighter. 

“Love you, Jack,” Dean says quietly, into the silence. “Talk to you tomorrow.” 

—

Sam is watching a family — the mom and dad and kid all holding hands, their smiles bright in the sunshine — and he looks sad. 

Dean knows what Sam would say, if he asked. 

Someday, maybe. I wouldn’t mind having kids… someday. 

When Dean thinks about family, he thinks about the past: the childhood that he dimly remembers, when everyone he loved was under one roof. He doesn’t think, someday. Not like Sam does. Most of Dean’s family is long gone, and if they ever held hands at a pie festival, Dean doesn’t fucking remember it. 

Dean tries not to dwell on it, but he’ll always remember heaven, all those years ago. Dean’s heaven was going back home to be with his family again. Sam’s heaven was running away to try to find a home of his own. 

Dean wants to tell him to go. He wants Sam to be happy almost as much as he wants Sam to stay. 

“I’m thinking about Cas. You know? Jack. If they could be here.” 

Fuck. 

For a moment, Dean lets himself imagine: holding Cas’s hand, making him laugh, walking in the park, sitting on an old porch swing, eating pie. Maybe they would have beehives. Maybe Dean would get a guitar.

Maybe they could’ve had a life together. Maybe they could’ve been happy. 

“I think about ‘em too,” Dean says quietly. 

It still hurts. Fuck, it hurts. 

— 

It takes Dean a moment to process what he’s feeling. The rebar punched through skin and muscle, and at first it just feels strange. The pain hits later. The fight’s over by the time Dean really understands what’s happening. 

He considers his options. 

He could call an ambulance. He could call Jack. He could barter and bargain and claw his way back one more time. 

He could rest. 

It’s not gonna be pretty, this way. He can feel it in there, cold and intrusive, chilling him from the inside. It’s gonna get messy real fast. 

Dean closes his eyes and tries to breathe. It’s harder than it should be. 

Jack, he thinks. Jack, I need a favor, buddy. Give me a minute, okay? And… let me go easy, maybe. If we could just skip the coughing up blood, and… yeah. I don’t want Sammy to have to watch that. Can you do that for me? Just… let me go easy, and… give me a minute to talk to my brother.

He feels that now-familiar warmth. The pain recedes, and the chill with it. 

Thanks, Jack, he thinks, and then he opens his eyes. 

“Sam,” he says quietly. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere.” 

— 

So this is it.  

He wants to see Mom and Dad, of course. He wants to give his mom a hug. He wants to just… sit with his dad. No pressure, no hunt, no rules, no orders. Maybe things can finally be simple again. As soon as Sam gets here, they’ll all be together — all those people he never thought he’d be able to hold again, all in one place. 

Dean doesn’t have to worry about losing them ever again. 

They’ll stay. 

No more goodbyes. No more loss. 

And for the first time in his life, Dean’s not in a rush to get somewhere else. He’s got nothing but time. 

He’s going to wait for Sammy. He’s going to figure out what he’s going to say to Cas. He’s going to breathe. 

Dean goes for a drive. 

— 

“Hey, Sammy.” 

“Dean.” 

They breathe. They take their time. They’re in no rush. 

Eventually, though, it’s time to hit the road again. 

“You want to pick the music?” Dean asks. 

Sam laughs as the engine rumbles to life. “Man, you must’ve missed me.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I really fuckin’ did.” 

“Are we gonna talk about this?” Sam pulls out the mix tape Dean made for Cas, all those years ago, and holds it up with a knowing smirk. He pops the cassette into the tape deck and turns up the volume. 

“Dude, you have decades worth of shit to tell me about,” Dean grumbles.

“Yeah. And you’ve got some unfinished business to deal with. Let’s go find Cas.”  

“Bitch.” 

“Jerk.” 

—

Dean’s not sure how long they’ve been driving, but he knows exactly what he wants to say — he has a speech, he has it all planned out — by the time they round a corner and see the house. Dean just stops. If they weren’t in heaven, the brakes would squeal like a motherfucker. 

He stares for a moment. It’s the house where Dean grew up, but… better. 

It’s the only house on the block now; no neighbors, plenty of privacy. It’s surrounded by a big, sprawling garden, all fenced in, and the fence needs some repairs, he can see already. There’s a stream running through the backyard, big enough that there’s probably some decent-sized trout lurking in the eddies. 

There’s a garage, too, and a car inside under a sheet, surrounded by tools, waiting for him. It looks like Baby, and Dean does a double take before deciding that he’s not going to question the logistics here. It’s heaven. Of course he has one Baby to drive, one Baby to tinker with and detail endlessly. 

There’s a porch, a big wraparound one with a swing out front. The house itself needs a fresh coat of paint; it’s starting to look a little worn around the edges, but it’s surface damage, nothing structural. It’s like the laugh lines Dean sees in the mirror when he smiles, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He earned those lines. 

Dean can’t wait to spend long quiet days in the sunshine, fixing this house up, putting some love into it, making it his own. 

There are two whitewashed beehives tucked into a corner of the garden, under an arbor, and suddenly Dean’s heart is racing. 

“I think this is my stop,” he says. His voice is a little wobbly. 

“I’ll get out and walk the rest of the way,” Sam tells him with a grin. “I’ve got a funny feeling my place is just around the corner.” 

“Love you, Sammy.” 

“Love you.” He gives Dean a hug. “See you soon.” 

The gate squeaks when he flicks the latch and swings it open. I can fix that, Dean thinks absentmindedly, as a dog starts barking. 

His dog. Miracle. He recognizes that bark. 

Cas is waiting on the porch. He’s beaming, brighter than sunshine, just like the last time Dean saw him, but this time Dean’s smiling too. 

He had a speech. He forgets most of it, now.

Dean takes the last step too quickly. He almost stumbles, and Cas grabs him by the upper arm, laughing, holding him steady. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, and Dean’s so happy he can barely breathe. 

“I love you too,” he says, and before their lips meet he says it again, just because he can: “I love you, too, Cas.” 

He knows there’s more he wanted to say, but it can wait. They’ve got time. 

.

.

.

If you enjoyed this, please reblog and/or leave a message! 

[hotshotsxyz]

Stay Awhile

Happy holidays to @not-the-same-url-i-used-to-be, for the @destielsecretsanta2020 gift exchange! I hope you like this mess of pure found family fluff!

(Read it on AO3)

Family dinners are kind of a big deal. It's hard to get everyone together these days, so when every single one of them RSVP's yes, it's huge. And they're running late.

"Dammit," Dean says, glancing at the traffic map Cas has pulled up on his phone. They're on I-80 just outside of Cheyenne, stuck in stop-and-go traffic that doesn't seem like it'll be letting up any time soon. They're coming from San Francisco, or thereabouts, and on their third day of driving.

Once upon a time, Dean would've just pushed through, making the 22-hour drive on 3 hours of sleep, coffee and a little bit of hope. These days, though, he and Cas like to take it slow, to stop and smell the roses as it were.

That's what they do now. Two years down the line, and they don't hunt unless some other hunter desperately needs their help. Instead, for the first time in Dean's life, they've been travelling just for the hell of it. Most recently they'd been in wine country, because Cas was curious and Dean had forgotten how to say no a long time ago. They have at least 16 different bottles in the trunk, all of which they're planning on sharing, if they ever make it to Lebanon.

"Sam's gonna kill us," Dean groans.

Cas pats him on the thigh. "He'll kill you," he replies. "I said we should've left Saturday, but you wanted to stick around for the county fair."

"It was twelve bucks and they had a pie eating competition!"

"Yes, dear," Cas says, fake exasperation lacing his tone.

"Fuck you," Dean replies, but he can't stop the laugh that bubbles out from his chest.

Cas shakes his head with a smile. "There's an exit coming up in half a mile, let's see if we can't find a better way home."

Dean grins. "Anything you say, sweetheart."

All said and done, they're only forty-five minutes late. Sam's still going to bitch, but frankly Dean considers it a miracle of navigation and ever-so-slightly reckless driving.

"Grab the wine and I'll get our bags out of the trunk," Dean says.

The sounds of laughter and plates clinking floats out as soon as they open the door to the bunker, and Dean can feel a grin settling on his face already as he pauses to take it all in. He loves this, more than just about anything he's ever had. Cas nudges his shoulder and nods towards the open door.

"Don't you think we've kept them waiting long enough already?"

"Yeah," Dean says, and they head in.

"It's about time!" Sam calls when he spot's them. He stands and strides over to them.

Dean drops his and Cas's bags in preparation for the bear hug he knows he's going to get. Ever since he and Cas started heading out on their own, Sam acts like he hasn’t seen them in years.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean says, accepting the embrace and clapping Sam on the back. "You should've seen the traffic."

"We all know it wasn't traffic that kept you in California an extra day," Sam teases.

Dean shoots a look at Cas. Traitor, he thinks. Cas's grin widens, and for a moment it's almost like he can hear Dean's thoughts again. But no, Cas just knows him that well.

"Alright," Jodie says, stepping up behind Sam, "give the rest of us a turn."

Dean and Cas pass out hugs like party favors, making sure to spend a moment with everyone in the room. Cas lingers for a few minutes with Jack, and while he does Dean steps into the kitchen to make them both a plate of food.

It's been too damn long.

After a few minutes, Cas joins him in the kitchen and presses a short kiss against the shell of his ear.

"It's good to see everyone," Cas murmurs, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist.

Dean turns in the embrace and deposits a lingering kiss against Cas's lips. "It is," he agrees.

There's something that Dean has been turning over in his head for a few weeks, and he figures now is as good a time as any to finally spit it out. "What if we stayed put for a while?" He searches Cas's face for any sign of distress, but the soft smile he's been wearing all night remains.

"Here in the bunker?" Cas asks, tilting his head in that oh so familiar way.

"We could," Dean says.

"But?"

"But…" And this is the part he's nervous about. There's a lot they've hashed out over the years, and Dean knows that Cas wants to be with him. He knows that he's happy as a human, knows that they're happy together. But there's something different about asking him for this. "I was thinking we could get a house. Something that's just ours. Still nearby, so we could be close to everybody. What do you think?" Dean bites his lip.

Cas's smile expands into a broad grin. "I would like nothing more than to 'settle down' with you, Dean Winchester."

"Awesome," Dean sighs and kisses Cas again.

They rejoin the party after that and are pulled quickly in opposite directions. Donna tells Dean about her (very, very hot) new boyfriend while Cas is regaled with Claire and Kaia's latest hunting adventure. He finds Charlie and Stevie talking to Patience about her college classes (and finds out that she's doing psychic consulting out of her dorm room). Garth and Alex are discussing the challenges of treating monsters and hunters in underground clinics. Bobby is talking to Jack about metaphysics (and damn, when did Bobby have time to do so much reading on the subject?), and Sam and Eileen are bent over some witch-y looking book with Rowena.

His family, Dean thinks. The hunters, the werewolves, the Queen of Hell, God himself, a couple college kids, and an ex-angel. It doesn't get much better than this.

The party goes late into the night, and when it's over everyone crashes at the bunker. These days, it functions as a stopover for hunters from all around the country. Sam and Eileen are slowly expanding their reach, giving hunters everywhere access to the enormous cache of knowledge contained within the bunker's walls. It feels so full of life, like it was always meant to be. They all sleep easy.  

Dean wakes up smiling. It's not like this everyday, but it's happening more all the time. Something about sleeping in Cas's arms, waking up in them, it keeps the nightmares at bay. Most of them, anyway.

Dean brushes a lock of hair away from Cas's face. It's gotten longer recently and it's nice. He places a soft kiss on Cas's brow.

"I'm gonna make breakfast," he says softly. "Want to help?"

Cas groans and presses his face into Dean's shoulder. "Too early," he mumbles.

Dean chuckles. "Alright, sweetheart," he says. He rolls onto his back, carefully dislodging Cas, then gets up.

Without opening his eyes, Cas whines and makes grabby hands at Dean. Dean catches one of Cas's hands in his own. "I'll make coffee," he promises, then presses a kiss into Cas's knuckles.

"Promise?" Cas says.

"Anything for you, sunshine," Dean replies.

To his surprise, Dean isn't alone when he walks into the kitchen. Claire sits at the table, eyes closed and a steaming mug held in both hands.

"Hey kid," Dean says, clearing his throat.

Claire hums in acknowledgement, takes a sip of her coffee, then opens her eyes. "You two look happy," she says, apropos of nothing.

"I- uh, yeah. We are," Dean replies.

"M'glad," Claire says. "You both deserve it."

"We're thinking about getting a house," Dean confides in her. "Haven't even told Sam yet."

She smiles at that. "I'm happy for you," she says.

"You know, if you ever wanted to get out of the life-"

"Nah, me and Kaia have everything we need. I wouldn't say no to an invitation to visit, though."

Dean grins. "You'll be first on our list."

They fall into comfortable silence for several minutes, as Dean pulls out enough ingredients to feed an army. Hunters are a hungry bunch, after all.

"Claire?" Dean says as he cracks eggs into a bowl.

"Yeah?"

"You seem happy, too."

There's a long pause. Finally, she says, "I am." Dean turns to see her smiling into her coffee

Just then, Sam and Eileen walk into the kitchen, followed quickly by Garth and Bess. Before long most of the bunker has arrived, and Dean gets back to cooking the feast. Behind him, someone else fires up the toaster, and soon he's handing off plate after plate of bacon, eggs and toast.

Finally, once nearly everyone has food, Cas walks in looking just as rumpled as he always does in the morning. Dean meets him with a mug of coffee and a sweet kiss. "Morning, sunshine," he murmurs against his lips.

"Good morning, Dean," Cas replies, voice still rough with sleep.

And yeah, Dean thinks, he could get used to this.

[jawritter]

When The Lights Go Out

Chapter 11

Summary: Life hasn’t been your best friend lately, you lost your job, and are on the verge of losing your apartment. Who knew when you decided to join a Sugar Daddy app that your best friend suggested ina last ditch effort to save your apartment, and not end up on the street, your first and only client would turn your whole world upside down.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean Winchester x Virgin! Reader

Word count: 2203

Series Warnings: Mob level violence, injured Dean, description of injury, creepy Godfather John Winchester, John is pretty much a douche bag, escort services, virgin reader, lose of virginity and all the insecurities and fun stuff that come with it, age gap (23 year old reader; 40 year old Dean), angst, unrequited/requited love?, language, smut, unprotected smut.

Chapter Warnings: Character death, talk of character death, language, angst, some fluff maybe if you squint?, I think that’s about it. 

A/N: Beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much love!! Please don’t copy my work!! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!! It’s gonna be a little bit of a slow burn y’all, but just hang in there!

(This fic is based on this request: Could you do a Dean x reader where she is 23 and lives alone in her apartment, she gets fired and can loose her house, her friend tells her about a sugar daddy app, she makes a profile and Dean 40, contacts her, she is virgin and don’t offers sex, Dean is billionaire business man and needs a girl for his business parties,the reader is really shy, blushes a lot, they fall in love, he takes her to a trip and makes love to her on a private island, could it be a series?)

Want more? Check out my masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

The SUV came to a stop in front of an old cabin, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. You had left New York behind at least an hour ago, and you had no Idea where you were now, other than this was a “safe house”, and this is where everyone was meeting to go over Dean’s plan to handle this threat against his family. 

Benny opened the door for you, and Dean came around the car on the other side of you, both men caging you in as the three of you made your way to the front door of the older looking cabin, both men holding a gun, and looking around the tree line as if they half expected something to jump out of the woods and start shooting at you.

The very sight of the guns, and the thoughts that accompanied them, made your heart rate spike to a dangerous level, and you were grateful to reach the small porch, and have the door swing open wide, revealing Sam Winchester, and Jess close over his shoulder.

“Sammy, did Bobby update you on the status of our situation?” Dean said as you were hustled into the cabin. People were standing everywhere, some faces you had seen before, some you had not. Some looked more menacing than others. None of them, except Jess, really made you that comfortable.

“Yea, I’ve updated everyone here as well.” Sam said, taking a seat on the couch next to Jess, who gave you a tight smile before wrapping her hand around Sam’s. Dean sat you down in an armchair close to the top of the room, and stood behind it with his hands on your shoulders. 

You could have heard a pin drop as everyone fell immediately silent in the room, all eyes on you and Dean, as they waited instructions on what to do next. 

“I know you're all reeling, just as I am, just as Sam and Jess are. Our father will be missed, and mourned for many days to come. Right now is not the time to mourn unfortunately, that will have to wait. Right now, we need to deal with the threat that’s staring us dead in the face.”

You could feel Dean’s hold tighten on your shoulders as he continued to address the room.You could only imagine how hard this was for him. The pressure, and the responsibility of all this was too much for one person. He shouldn’t have to carry it all. He hadn’t even allowed himself time to grieve really, but here he was, leading the pack, and you had a feeling that this had been a constant throughout his life, even when John was still alive.

“Azazel is very dangerous. Not because of what he can do, but what those mindless idiots that follow him are willing to do. My father knew this, and he also knew that one day, we would have to deal with Azazel, and put a stop to The Knights Of Hell once and for all. Tonight is that night.” Dean circled the room, going over to a small bag that had been carried in by a man you didn’t recognize, and placed on the chair. Lifting the bag and sitting it in the center of the room before continuing. 

“They will all be at the club owned by Azazel, a club called Hell’s Gate, in downtown New York. Tonight, we finished what my dad planned years ago.Tonight we take them all out.” 

Reaching into the bag, Dean produced what looked like a pipe bomb, and started to pass it around the room so that everyone could get a look at what they would be working with. 

“At midnight, myself, Sam, Cas, Benny, and about six other volunteers will sit pipe bombs through the exterior of the building, while three of you go inside.

Mick, Terry, Steve, that will be you three, and plant pipe bombs at the two back entrances, and the bathroom located pretty much at the center of the building.”

There was a sudden buzz of conversation throughout the room. Some in agreement, some obviously a little scared of the outcome of this plan.

“Easy guys, I know, this is dangerous, but they will all be gathered in the back room, Bobby and I can take care of the two idiots by the door. They are the only guards in the place. Once all the bombs are placed, and everyone has cleared the building, I will send the text with the words, “lights out” to Ash, who will detonate all the bombs at once using his computer here.” 

Rufous stood up at the back of the room, making his way closer to Dean, but not close enough to seem like any sort of a threat.

“And what happens if one of them survives this attack? What if we fail?” Rufus says, and a few others murmur their agreement.

“Look, I’m not saying it’s a foolproof plan. I can’t guarantee a complete success rate, but with that many pipe bombs going off at once, I don’t see anyone surviving that blast.” Dean said, his face hard as stone as he stood there staring at the older man in front of him.

“Dad knew what he was doing guys. He’s the one that mapped out the building all those years ago. He wouldn’t have put this plan in place all those years ago, and then told Dean about it, if he wasn’t sure that it would work.” Sam said, and a few others murmured their agreement. 

“The women will remain here. I want three of you outside the safe house guarding it, and two inside the doors. If anyone that’s not ours shows their face here, shoot it.” Dean said, looking down at you. His eyes had a hard unreadable mask that made you uneasy. 

“This woman means everything to me, and has the high possibility of becoming my wife one day. You are to treat her with the same respect you treat myself and Sam. Understood?” 

When he was satisfied that everyone was in agreement, and knew what they were supposed to do, he gave Benny a nod, who then started to get the teams together for the job at hand. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t know how to feel. 

You had just actively sat in a room, while your boyfriend discussed murdering only God knows how many people by blowing up the building they were meeting in. 

Then, on the other side of that, there was this sickening, twisting fear buried not so deep below the surface, that said this may be the last time you ever see Dean.

Grabbing your hand, Dean leads you through the small cabin, and into the back bedroom, closing the door, and pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you as tight as he could, before his lips collide with your own in a deep kiss, full of emotions you didn’t understand, and things that made you tremble with fear. 

Did he think he might not come back from this either?

When he finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours for a moment before he leaned his forehead against yours. 

“Y/N, if this goes sideways, and something happens to me, I want you to stay with Benny, understand?”

“Dean, don’t talk like that, please!”

Dean put his large, warm hand to the side of your face, catching the tears that were freely falling with his thumb, before brushing his lips against yours in a barely there kiss to stop you worrying. 

“Listen Baby, please, I’m confident this is going to go just fine, and I’ll be back before sunup, and we can go home like none of this ever happened, but I need you to promise me that IF something doesn’t go like I’m playing it out in my head, and I don’t make it back, you will stay with Benny. I need to know you're going to be safe if I’m not here to protect you. Can you promise me that?”

Trying hard to swallow the nothing that seemed to be clogging your throat, you nod your head before his lips collide with your own again. 

“Now, it’s your turn to promise me something, Winchester. Promise me you will come home to me.” you tell him bluntly, his green eyes boring into yours as if he was trying to tell you everything he felt, but couldn’t bring himself to say in that moment.

“I promise I’ll do everything in my power to get home to you baby girl.” 

A loud banging on the door made you nearly jump out of your skin as Benny’s voice boomed from the other side. 

“Ready to go boss!”

Giving you a quick kiss, Dean gave you one last look before slipping out the door, and leaving you to sit down on the edge of the bed, your heart beating a thousand miles a second, praying to whatever God may, or may not exist that he would come home to you tonight.

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

To say that it was the absolute longest night of your life wouldn’t have been an accurate enough description. 

You alternated from pacing, to standing staring out the window, to laying on the bed curled up in a ball of worry, and Jess was doing no better than you were. Both of you were a wreck. There was no word from Dean or anyone else yet, and you were starting to think that something had gone horribly wrong.

Anxiety pulled at you like a weight trying desperately to pull you under. Your chest felt tight, and your hands were shaking so hard as you checked your phone for the thousandth time, you almost didn’t successfully unlock it.

“Still nothing?” Jess asked as she flopped down on the bed next to you dramatically.

“Nope.” 

“This is the hardest part, the waiting,” she tells you, giving your shoulder a sympathetic pat. 

You were just about to try and sit up to go back to staring out of the window, when the sound of tires on gravel sounded throughout the cabin. The two of you held your breath as you waited for the sounds of someone coming through the front door, and you were just about to say fuck it, and go look out the window, when the bedroom door opened, revealing a dirty, and tired looking Dean, with Sam hot on his heals. 

Getting off the bed you practically run to him, and jump on him. The relief that flooded your body at the sight of them was almost enough to make you pass out. 

“It’s over,” he kept telling you, brushing your hair back away from your face. You didn’t care at that moment, for the moment he was standing here, alive, and well in front of you, and that’s all that mattered. 

Sam made his way to Jess, and pulled her into him as well. 

“The threat is passed for now, but others will come.” Sam said, looking at his brother, who gave him a knowing look before pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“We will let tomorrow's problems worry about themselves for now. Tonight I’m tired, and I want to get home with my girl. We still have a funeral to plan, and a change of headship through the high table ahead of us.”

The three of you made your way towards the door, and to Benny, who was still waiting in the SUV to take you back to the Winchester Estate. Once you were inside the safety of the car, and wrapped tight in Dean’s arms sitting in the third row, you realized just how tired you were.

“It’s gonna be strange, Dad gone, that big old house is gonna feel pretty empty.” Sam said, his body half turned in his seat to look at his older brother.��

Dean just shrugged, and placed his lips to the top of your forehead that was resting on his shoulder. 

“It’s gonna be different, but we’ll adjust.” Jess said, giving Sam’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

“So, Azazel is gone?” You asked Dean, looking up at the piercing green eyes that you loved so much in the dark car. Dean gave you a tight smile.

“Azazel is gone, but others will come, that’s part of this life we live. There’s no rest for the wicked sweetheart.”

You buried your head in Dean’s shoulder, and let him drop his suit jacket over your body like a blanket, letting exhaustion finally grip you like it had been trying to do since you crawled into the car.

You knew Dean was right. There would be other threats, and there was no going back to your old life now. There was no leaving Dean  and Sam Winchester, or anyone else you had met during your short time with them. You were completely sucked in, and you didn’t care to be pulled out.

Your old life was boring, same old seven and six, no meaning, just the same old struggle everyday. Yes, this isn’t a life you would have exactly chosen for yourself, but now that you had it, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

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The Princess And The Soldier

Request: Hi! Can I have angst and tragedy request. Dean x Daughter reader. Dean has two daughters but treat Reader like a soldier while the youngest treat like a princess Dean and reader don't have good relationship.The reader don't mind at all, as she wanted to please her father. Until, the reader and her sibling got kidnapped by demon and Dean will choose who to save. The reader begged Dean to save her little sister instead of her and she let out her feelings towards Dean and said goodbye to them

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Daughter!Reader

A/N: I was in this crazy writing zone and decided to post one more today. 

I hope you like this, Anon! 

Feedback is welcome as always!

Warning: Angst! A lot of it!

Word Count: 3046

❅ ❅ ❅

If there was one thing you wanted in this whole world, it was to make your dad proud. Nothing else mattered to you as much as that. Even if it meant losing yourself in the process you’d happily do it. Things were great between you and your dad in the beginning. You had wonderful memories of him and your mum taking you to the park and goofing around with you, you’d go camping together and enjoy family time whenever Dean was home from a hunt. Movie nights when uncle Sammy came over were a ball. The house was filled with music and laughter and you felt as if nothing in the world could compare to that or take it away.

That was until your sister was born.

You were only 4 when your mum died giving birth to your sister, Mary. She was attacked by a demon when she was 8 months pregnant and went into early labor. Dean managed to kill the bastard, but he could not save his wife. He watched her die in his arms and with her Dean’s spark died too. A terrible change came over him and no longer was there music or laughter at home. To make matters worse, his attitude towards you began to change and by the time you turned 13, he had completely withdrawn from you, treating you as nothing more than someone to train and feed. He had one job for you - Protect Mary no matter what. Two years later, It had become a mantra that he would repeat after every training session and it eventually replaced all the ‘I love you, sweetheart’.

The only person who seemed to bring even a small bit of happiness was Mary. She was a ball of energy and happiness that somehow managed to bring a bit of light into your home. She reminded you both of your mother and you felt as if a part of her was living through your sister. On the other hand you were more like Dean, something you took great pride in in spite of everything.

Despite the prejudice in your father, you loved Mary dearly. She was your best friend and someone who always managed to make you laugh with her quirks. You were grateful that at least she got to see the loving side of Dean. And that’s exactly what you saw when you walked past Mary’s room one night to get to yours.

“Sleep tight, baby girl” Said Dean softly to her.

“Daddy, what if there are monsters in my closet?” Asked Mary with wide eyes.

“You have nothing to worry about. No one can get you as long as I’m here.” He said kissing her forehead.

“But what if they sneak in?”

“Well, if they do they’ll have to go through me first and guess what?” He said grinning.

“What?”

“They’re too scared of me to come after my baby.” He whispered as if it was a secret.

“Really?” She asked looking at him in awe.

“I promise.” He smiled, tucking the blanket around her.

“Is Y/N safe too? What if the monsters get her? Will you be there too?” She asked innocently.

“You don’t worry about your sister, baby. She knows how to take care of herself. She doesn’t need me.”  You saw his body stiffen at the mention of you. “Now no more questions, you need to sleep.” He said tickling her, smiling widely at her giggles.

His reply broke your heart. You quickly made your way back to your room before either of them noticed your presence. You climbed into bed, trying not to cry. You told yourself that it was his way of having confidence in your hunting skills. He was doing what was needed to make sure you were safe. You fell asleep trying to take what little comfort you could from that.

____________

A year later, on your 16th birthday you were woken up by a jumpy 12 yr old on your bed.

“Wake up, Y/N! It’s your birthday!” She screamed into your ear, making your bury your head under the pillow.

“Go away, it’s not even 7!” You grumbled.

“Come on! Daddy’s making pancakes!” She ignored you and kept shaking you.

“Oh my god! I’m up!” You glared at her, making her giggle. She knew you weren’t a morning person and she found your antics hilarious.

You slowly made your way to the kitchen pouring yourself a cup of coffee and taking a seat at the table. You wished Dean good morning, used to the fact that he’d barely said it back to you like he would to Mary.

He piled up pancakes on all your plates, taking a seat opposite Mary and began to eat. Just as you were about to dig in, Mary spoke up, “Dad, you didn’t wish Y/N!”

Dean looked at you confused and then at her. “Wish her for what?”

“Her birthday! It’s her sweet 16! All my friends at school say it’s a big deal”

“Oh” His eyes widened in realisation. “Happy birthday, Y/N” He smiled at you. For a second you thought he was genuinely excited about your birthday and your heart skipped a beat.

“Are we going to do anything special today?” Asked Mary more excited about your special day than anyone else.

“Well, you and I will be starting your training, Mary.” Said Dean getting up to get more coffee.

“But-“

“It’s okay.” You interrupted. “You need to start training. It’s more important” You smiled at Mary, getting up and placing your plate in the sink. “I’ll umm go for a jog.” You said and left without making any eye contact.

It was so stupid of you to expect anything. Dean had stopped celebrating your birthday like he used to ever since your mum died. Mary got a lot of his attention and it was how it should be. She was a kid and he wanted her to grow up more normal. Which is why he sent her to school while he let you drop out at 15 to train better. Even though she knew about the things that went bump in the night, Dean always made it a point to protect her from it more than he protected you. The fact that he was finally training her today was a big deal. So you didn’t complain.

After an hour of jogging, you came back home to find Dean’s duffle bag near the door. He walked down the stairs and spotted you.

“Dad, where are you going?” You asked.

“Sam found a hunt. Looks like a demon. I’ll be gone for a few days. Take care of Mary okay?” He said busy making sure he had everything.

“Do you need an extra hand?” You asked hoping he would finally let you go on a hunt to prove your worth to him.

“Absolutely not! If you come, Mary comes. And I can’t risk her getting hurt. So you better watch out for your sister, Y/N. I mean it.” He said finally looking at you.

Dean can be very intimidating when he wants to be. And no matter how many times you end up on the receiving end of that gaze, it always made you feel like you’re screwing up no matter what.

“Yes, sir. I’ll watch out for her.” You said.

“Good.” He patted your back, walking towards the door. He stood and turned to you, “You take care too okay?” He said and left without waiting for a reply.

You heart hammered in your chest. You could never get used to the affection Dean showed you. It was few and far in between and when he did, you ate it up like a starved animal. It wasn’t often he directed concern towards you, but you figured the concern was masked under all that anger. So when he showed it, your day was made.

With a bright smile on your face you made your way to your room to take a shower. You passed by Mary’s door and saw her sitting grumpily on her bed.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked.

“He was supposed to train me! He just left!”

You sighed at her. She didn’t understand the lengths their dad and uncle went to protect her.

“You know dad was really looking forward to it. But some stupid demon decided to wreck havoc. I promise you he’s going to come back and spend all his time with you.” You explained smiling at her.

“Why do you always take his side?”

“What?”

“You know what I’m talking about, Y/N. I ain’t stupid, you know. I pick up on things.”

“I know you ain’t stupid, Mare.” You said confused.

“I see the way he treats you. I’ve been paying attention to that since I was 7. He barely even acknowledges you and yet here you are always taking his side. Why?”

“He does acknowledge me!”

“No he doesn’t! We both know it!”

“Shut up, Mary! He cares! It’s his way of making sure I’m strong enough to protect you!”

“Yeah, that’s all you’ve done all my life! Dad protects me, you protect me! Who the hell is going to protect you?!”

You were stunned into silence. You never looked at it that way. Sure you noticed every time Mary got more from him than you did. But you were too busy trying to do better to make him proud, that you didn’t realise that the only one protecting you was you.

“The reason why I begged him to train me was so I can be the one to protect you back!” She was yelling at you now. “And now he left! It’s not fair!” She had tears streaming down her face. She rushed out of the room, making her way to the main door.

“Mary! Where are you going?!” You ran after her. “You can’t leave when Dad’s not here! You know that!”

She ran out the door with you at her heels. You finally caught up to her, your training giving you the leverage. You pulled her back by her shoulders. “Stop! Just calm down okay?”

Before anything more could be said you blacked out, the last thing you saw was Mary falling unconscious too.

__________________

You slowly woke up, realising that you were tied to a chair in the middle of a warehouse.

“MARY!” You yelled struggling to get out.

“Quit yelling! I’m right behind you!” She snapped.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” You asked, panicking.

“I’m fine. Just my head hurts. You?”

“Yeah pretty much the same.”

The door opened and a man walks in with deep black eyes, “So you brats finally woke up from your beauty sleep. Good!” He grinned.

“Let us go you son of a bitch!” You scream earning a whack across your face.

“Y/N!” Mary yells.

“I’m fine. He hits like a sissy” You grin at him, blood dripping down your lips.

“I see you got your father’s mouth.” He smirks. “This is going to be interesting.”

“Oh just wait till he comes, he’s going to send your dumbass back to hell!”

“I’m counting on his arrival, darling. He and his brother have been causing too much trouble for us. I figured I could make them suffer before I kill them. Kidnapping Dean Winchester’s daughters is going to get me such glory.”

“Look you got me, just let my sister go. Please!” You begged. Afraid for Mary’s life. You had one job and you failed miserably. It was all your fault.

“Oh no, sweetheart. There’s no point in holding onto just you. I need the daughter who Dean loves the most!” He laughed.

You tried not to let it get to you.

“Then let her go!” Mary yelled.

“Shut up, Mary! Don’t say a word!” You snap at her.

“Oh look at that, Dean’s little princess trying to save her failure of a sister. What’s daddy going to say about that, Y/N? You failed to protect her. You had one job.” He whispered the last part in your ear, making you tear up.

“Please” you begged, voice cracking.

Suddenly the door to the warehouse burst open and Dean barged in with his gun raised at the Demon.

“Let them go, you son of a bitch!” He yelled.

The demon quickly pulled out two gun pointing each one to yours and Mary’s head. “Well well, the third Winchester is here to join the party!”

Dean was livid. You had a pretty good idea at what, but a part of you knew he was going to give you hell once you got out of this.

“I won’t say it again, asshole! Let. My. Daughters. Go.” He gritted out.

“I will let them go, Winchester. But you’re gonna have to play a game before that.” The demon smirked.

“Over my dead body.” Dean replied calmly.

“Well, the game does require a dead body. But not yours. You get to choose which one of your daughters get to live. You can take her home.”

“How bout I take them both home after I put a bullet in your head!” He yelled.

“You take another step or do anything stupid, I’ll put a bullet in both their heads.” The demon grinned.

There was silence. You could see your dad panicking and holding back his tears. He didn’t have back up clearly and you didn’t know what happened to Sam.

“D-Dad. Pick Mary.” You said softly looking at the ground. You could hear her sniffle beside you.

“Y/N, no! Please! This is my fault! It should be me!” Mary begged.

“Quiet Mary, this doesn’t concern you.” You told her. “Dad, listen to me. You and I both know if push comes to shove, you’re going to save Mary.”

“Y/N, that’s not-“ Dean started frantically.

“It’s okay, dad.” You smiled teary eyes at him. “All I’ve ever wanted was to make you proud. I-I know mom’s death changed us a lot. I know how much you miss her. I miss her too. I’m sorry I wasn’t a good daughter. I’m sorry I wan’t enough for you to love. I get it, dad. You feel responsible for mom’s death, and Mary looks so much like her. You think protecting her will make up for what you think you failed to do. But dad it wasn’t your fault. It was the demon’s. And you ended up killing that bastard and Mary has always been safe. I know you were tough on me so I could do better and protect her when you couldn’t.” You were crying by now and so were Mary and Dean. You closed your eyes to take a breath before continuing. “I’m so sorry I failed, sir. I couldn’t protect her, I wasn’t fast enough to stop her.”

“N/N, no! It’s not your fault, it’s mine!” Mary said.

“Shh” You said smiling at her. “Maybe I didn’t deserve to be protected like Mary. I know I’m not as perfect as her. Hell she even got grandma’s name.” You chuckled addressing your dad. “It’s not like I have anything that reminded you of mom. I wish I did though, I mean she was so beautiful inside and out. It would be an honour for sure.” You chuckled lightly at that. “But that’s okay, because I noticed I am more like you, dad. And I am so proud of that. So proud to be your daughter. I was going to grow up to be just like you.”

“Y/N, baby. I’m so sorry.” Dean was a sobbing mess.

You had never seen your dad like this before and it broke your heart. You never meant to hurt him. You just wanted to make him proud.

“I’m so so sorry I didn’t treat you right, baby girl. I love you so damn much. You’re right. You were always so smart.” He smiled at you. “Mary is so much like mom and I got consumed by my guilt. And you do remind me of myself, Y/N and that scared me so much. It was like looking in a mirror. When mom was killed, looking at you meant dealing with myself and my demons and I couldn’t. So I pushed you away. I’m so fucking sorry!”

“I just wanted you to love me.” You whispered.

“I do love you, Y/N! So much. More than my own life!”

You finally heard what you’d been dying to all these years. “I love you too, daddy”

You hadn’t called him that in years and when you did your heart swelled up with so much love. You should be angry at him for treating you like a soldier. But right now, knowing the road ended for you, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he loved you just as much as he loved Mary.

“Oh my heart!” The demon, who was silently listening, suddenly made his presence felt. “I could cry, but fortunately, I’m a demon.” He grinned. “Choose Winchester. Who will it be? Your little princess or your little soldier?”

“Daddy, please. Don’t let him hurt, Y/N!” Mary begged.

You looked at Mary and smiled sadly, “Mary, you probably won’t understand this now, and you’re going to be so pissed at me and dad once this is all over. But I promise you that this is my choice. I love you so much and I wish I could watch you grow into this amazing person. But that’s not possible. And dad needs you more than he needs me.”

“No! He doesn’t! He won’t admit it, but he needs you too! I need you!” She screamed.

“Please don’t do this” Dean begged the Demon.

You looked at Dean, “Protect Mary no matter what, right?”

The last time your dad looked so broken was when his wife died, but you knew it would hurt less for him if you were the one to go. You watched him close his eyes and look down in shame. You know he had made his decision and this is where the road ended for you.

You cried harder looking into Dean’s eyes, “I love you, daddy and I forgive you.”

That was the last thing you said before a bullet went through your skull.

❅ ❅ ❅

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[selenitawars]

Pressentimento

Never Be The Same - Part 7.

Pairing: Sam x Daughter!Reader, Dean x Niece!Reader, Castiel x Platonic!Reader.

Summary: To save Dean’s life, Sam changes a big part of his past, hoping that he’d only forget memories with his college girlfriend. But, not only he changes his life, he also creates a new one.

Word Count: 2332.

Warnings: None.

A/N: Yes, I’m back after over a year and a half. I know I’m a dumbass for making y’all wait for so long, but, honestly, I want this to be a fun writing, so I try not to pressure myself. Won’t make promises. Either way, always love to know your opinions. Hope  you enjoy this comeback haha!

Pressentimento masculine noun 1. act of feeling in advance, more through emotion than reason, the occurrence of a future fact; suspicion. "I have a p. that this will not work" 2. knowledge of what will happen, obtained by intuition; forecast, hunch, omen.

You still hadn't explained everything to your father nor your uncle. Cas remembered one of the episodes that occurred with you when you were younger, around ten or so. It was hard for you. Every time you tried to explain yourself, things were hard to explain. All the time, something blocked you from exposing the fear inside you, the fear of letting things out.

The way their "new" memories came to them didn't help. It was so unpredictable. Cas remembered you praying first and then, mixed memories, tiny ones, which made him assume a lot about you already; and worry as well. Dean remembered more, like the time Sam was soulless and you lived with him for months, you concluded he was remembering things by the impact they had in his life. As for Sam, well, apparently things were coming more chronologically for him, but a little late, since he also had a lot of Camila to remember.

You tried to think how to talk to them about your crisis. The big ones. It was so complicated. When it started happening, you had your godmother to help with calming down and understanding how sensible you were; but even Vanessa had to talk with the Winchesters to fully understand what made you so much stronger and sensitive. Anyway, she wouldn't help you now that she was in the list of people to whom you never existed.

Oh, and your mother...

Looking at pictures of her nowadays became an addiction. You couldn't sleep before searching a little more about her, not that you've been having much sleep or any of this helped. You wish so bad you could talk to her. And now that Sam told ya you reminded him so much of Camila, you really studied her, trying to find the resemblance.

How would you tell them there's more? More of you to worry. You wanted to wait for a time when the memories hangovers weren't so heavy on them. They were all trying to act normal, but it was obvious - you've never been at home for this long, they were never so quiet. Dean wasn't even drinking, to make sure he wouldn't be more confused.

You were lying down on your bed, trying to ease the headache. It was normal to have a day just to be tired, but after the all day just resting you still got a headache by night. Went to get a pill to make it better and when you swallow it, you realize something.

"I don't exist." You whisper to yourself.

For the first time in that day, you felt useful. Even with the headache, you got in front of the computer and started to do your thing. For some reason you got happy when you confirmed your theory.

"I was never born."

"You gotta stop thinking about that." Dean warned you.

"No, I mean... I don't exist."

The three men stared at you with confusion, you repeated.

"I don't exist."

Still nothing. The room was filled with silence while you hoped for the clicking in their minds. It never came. You sighed.

"I never existed! Never did anything!"

Sam looked at you like he was starting to worry, while holding a bowl with cereal. Just like Dean, who chewed his, probably thinking you've gone crazy.

"I don't understand why you're so excited saying it." Cas finally said.

"Isn't it obvious?" They once more, didn't react. "There are no records of me, at all. Nobody knows about me. I only left the bunker once."

"What's your point?" Dean asked.

"We should keep it that way."

"What? Why?" The brothers said together.

"Well, if nobody knows I'm here, we're in advantage. It's always good to have a secret backup, right?"

"Like... as a surprise element?" Castiel suggested, you nodded. "Y/N, you don't truly expect us to treat you like a secret weapon..."

"Hell no." Dean agreed.

"It's not like it."

"Well, I don't see your point." You father stated. "I know this seems messed up, but, we can fix it. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried, I'm thinking!" You made them quiet. "C'mon, think with me: I barely left the bunker, how could anyone know about me?"

"We know about you." Dean answered.

"But you've seen me. And your memories, are just yours, this doesn't mean the world knows about me."

"Ok, but you'll need to use an ID sometime. Or will you live forever here, inside the bunker?"

"Dean, you should know it's easier to make a fake ID look real if there isn't a real one to prove the fake one as fake."

Sam took a deep breath.

"Ok, so we leave it as it is. How much long do you think it would last?"

"Not much, I know. But at least, for a while it could be useful."

"I don't see how, Y/N. I'm not using you as my secret-spy-soldier or whatever."

"Sam is right. It's not worth it."

"Castiel?" You looked at him, only to find the agreeing look. You looked down.

"Look, how can you be sure nobody else remembers you?" The angel tried to clear your mind.

"For most people I know, I never happened. And the others, will probably only remember me when they see me, if they do. Until then..."

"That's not right." Sam interrupted. "I had this feeling about you, before we arrived on that day; like I left something behind, but I couldn't remember why."

"So did I."

"I got one your prayers for not getting news from us." You stood there, silent.

"That's it? A feeling you forgot something?!" You left for your bedroom, a little ofended they didn't listen to you. Your idea was good, logical. You genuinely thought they would see it as a good thing out of all this.

Reflecting on it, you finally notice: you may not know your family as well as before. At first it sounds crazy, but this is all crazy, ain't it? And after doing their exercise for a couple hours, thinking about your childhood, the events that crossed it and when it all began, you got yourself some questions.

You fell asleep while still thinking, trying to find logic somewhere and always getting to the same point, a lost point. Somehow while sleeping, you had no dreams, didn't wake up once; not even the fact that you were with a jacket bothered you.

"Hey, man. You good?" Dean noticed Sam squeeze his eyes.

"Yep. Just those flashbacks. I hate to have them by day, but I can't sleep no longer."

"Like a constant hangover, thank God it's not a heavy one." Sam did not answer. "Sam?"

"Right..." Sam stared at the floor, seeing stuff in his mind. He blinked multiple times after a little.

"You all right? You seem shocked. What did you remember?"

"It's just... Y/N's suggestion."

"Dude, that was today."

"Very funny!" Dean smiled a little to ease his brother. "It got me thinking. Why would she want that?"

"Honestly," Castiel entered suddenly. "I think she is trying to get something good out of this."

"Good? I see her point, but..."

"Not good." Cas interrupted, correcting himself. "Useful, at least."

"It's not as useful as she thinks." Dean says as if it's obvious.

"It's the only thing she has to offer." Castiel putted it in a weird way, but made sense. They silented for an instant. "Still, how does that has to do with your flashback, Sam?"

"I thought that maybe I should listen to her. Maybe there was a point."

"You, Sammy, considered the possibility of being saved by her?"

"Obviously not. I wondered: what if her non-existence helped her get away from this craziness. Like, she could get to any school if we put some effort."

"You concluded it fast." Cas commented.

"Well, yeah. Then I... questioned." Sam felt the gazes at him. "How did she get dragged into hunting in the first place? Why did I not stop it? And one more thing popped up: why did I leave college?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Dean couldn't understand his brother.

"Dean, if it wasn't for my anger towards Jessica's death, who knows..." He explained. "So why I left Stanford, making Camila stay behind and after weeks drop out too?"

Castiel took a seat.

"Why did you?"

Sam opened the door, showly. You were in your bed, far from his atmosphere, enjoying a rest you needed. He passed the door carefully, took a look at your room and turned the lights off. Ever since that hunt days ago, when he saw you sleep at the motel bed while he was reading about the case, the day he woke up before you and as you slept in the car coming back home, Sam felt peace as he watched you.

It was the moment he could breath easily and a little relaxed. You were resting, next to him, nothing could hurt you in your sleep. There, you were safe and wasn't leaving soon. So he couldn't help watch you once more; just stood by the door for a couple seconds, smiled at the taught of you having a break from this madness for some hours. Grabbed the door and heard your move, turning to check if he had woken ya.

"Sorry."

"Don't be." Your voice sounded lazy. "I have a light sleep."

"So do I." You nodded. You knew it. He regrets commenting it.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

"No, tell me." He understood you couldn't sleep anymore.

"You don't want to talk now."

"It's about earlier, I know." You said while rubbing your eyes. "Just spit it." He gave in and sat in your chair.

"Why do you wanna do it?"

"Why don't you?"

"Why would I?"

"You've always wanted this." He gulped.

"What? No!"

"You never wanted me to be in risk, you hated the fact I made you all vulnerable, now nobody knows I'm here. I know this isn't permanent and things can change, but for now, you could finally be at peace. Nobody knows me, none of you have to worry."

Samuel digested everything you said and got his answer prepared fastly enough.

"For a long time I asked myself if Jessica never died, would I be here? And you know, as things turned out to be, as I found out more and more throughout the years I got the answer." He paused. "I would. Because if it wasn't Jess, it would be Dean or dad, or a friend."

"What do you mean?"

"I left college for revenge." You got surprised. "It wasn't Jess. Not anymore." That sounded weird. "I made a choice and I know now that somehow, at some point, no matter how many times... I would make that choice again. As soon as somebody I care about got in danger. So I left college. For you."

Sam got back from his first hunt after two years. Camila was waiting. They talked and she was serious when she told him to call Dean. Leave as soon as he could. She said she had a bad feeling, he had to find his father. Was something repentine, fast and clear - the fear in her voice stopped Sam from questioning.

"The way she talked to me... her eyes, getting sudden tears. At first I tried to calm her, jokes on me, I blamed her hormones. Camila proved me wrong. I knew she had that sometimes, like with tests or bad decisions, maybe something simple like knowing staying in was better than going to a party. She was always right. If not totally right, fast enough to avoid regret." He looked down as her voice came to his head and repeated her words. "'This is your family we're talking about, Samuel! Your child's grandfather.' She screamed. I was scared." You two laughed a little. "She begged. Aggressively. But, I didn't leave because she did."

"Why then?"

"I called Dean to get back there and pick me up because once we talked, I got that bad feeling too. And was suddenly afraid. Afraid something would happen to either of you." You stayed silent. "I hoped things would be more simple, soon I'd be back and things would go back to normal. You would be born and grow up, normal. We would be a family..."

"Please, don't say normal." He smiled.

"Your mother's bad feeling... I don't know what is was about exactly. She got scared too in that moment and it was the only time I saw her that scared. But I know that mine became true. Only, it was even worse. There was no blame. Of all things that happened in those months, how worried I was with my father, you, Camila and even Dean... The hunts, the confusion and overwhelming information all at once. The fear. Your mother's death was the most sudden and painful." You saw a tear run down his cheek, followed by a couple more. Sam had more to say but you spoke before, in the heat of the moment.

"She knew." He looked back at you, now with red eyes. "I think she knew something bad was going to happen."

"She knew we would be in danger." By we, he meant himself, his uncle and your grandpa.

"No. Not that. She knew that something terrible was happening already and would get worse. But she didn't tell you to go to stop it." His tears froze, lost in your words. "Like you said. Camila was always right about this bad feelings. She was certain." You were sure thanks to your own experience with it.

"About Dean needing me more than her?" You denied.

"About you needing the rest of your family once I was born."

[dean-winchesters-gardian-angel]

The Same Bed - Chapter 5

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Friends are there to help each other out, but can they help falling for each other when all the long days they spend together turn into late nights they have and their reliance on each other.

Word count: 2044

Warnings: Fluff, angst, blood, description of injury, swearing, heated scene, slow burn.

A/N: “Welcome to the end” as chuck so bluntly put it. This is the last chapter of The Same Bed and as exited as I am for the story to conclude and for you all read it, I am as much saddened by its departure. It’s been a highlight of my week. I love Fridays but to me it’s as mch because of the weekend as it is because of my posting the next chapter. You have all been so kind and your reactions to this story are so heartening but alas this is the end. Not to say there wont be more to come ;) So for the last time on The Same Bed; Read it, enjoy and I’ll see you on the other side. There’s a tag list, so be sure to tell me if you want in, as well as a masterlist so be sure to check it out. As are all that came before; Unbeta’d all mistakes are mine.

Series masterlist

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They sat in the bathroom without a word while Y/N pulled the glass from his palm. The occasional flinch would draw her attention up to his face. His eyes were half-closed all cockiness washed away. This was the Dean no one else got to see. The Dean that was allowed to feel pain even if from the comparatively small cuts on his hand though to anyone else they were considered bad and warranted a visit to the hospitable for stitches. This Dean didn’t use all his energy blocking out natural reaction to stimulus or emotions. This was Y/Ns Dean.

Y/N was delicate as one could be when removing glass from an open wound. She cleaned his lacerations with alcohol holding it over the sink as the reddened liquid pooled in his palm and streamed along his skin, dripping off the back of his hand. She rinsed off his hand and dried it before taking a bandage wrap from the kit and spinning it around his hand. Tapping the ends securely, she looked up at him. Y/N cupped his face urging him to look at her but as a result, Dean squeezed his eyes shut leaning into her hold, before pulling away avoiding her gaze.

“We should go to bed.” Dean nodded acknowledging her whisper. She followed Dean back to his room. He picked up the glass on the floor and nightstand as she watched him from the doorway. She took a step forward.

“You can’t stay here.” Y/N scoffed as Dean hardly even glanced over his shoulder moving the glass into the little garbage can next to the nightstand.

“Why the hell not? I don’t care how much you hate me, Dean, I’m just trying to help you.”

“I don’t hate you…”

“Seriously? You can’t even look at me god damn it! Dean what have I done to you other than support you! I don’t deserve this! You kick me out! You ignore me! You have no right to treat me this way!  I helped with your nightmares! With anything you asked me to and even when you don’t ask me to, I’m there for you Dean! I deserve an explanation! That's the very least I deserve!” Dean spun around quick as a wink. He’s been expecting this but nonetheless hoped they’d manage to avoid it. He had scripted what he’d say though apparently, he subconsciously knew what he truly wanted to say because given the opportunity he went off.

“Because I fell in love with you! I was better off pushing you away and hurting you myself than risk losing you because I was too caught up with loving you. To get distracted and miss something on a hunt! Or have some demon take you and hurt you to get to me! I had to push you away because I fell in love with you!”

“That makes two of us Dean! You think you’re the only one with feelings! You really think pushing me away is going to stop me from getting hurt!? And you’re hardly careless enough to miss something on a hunt because you were distracted by me! Also, how dare you blame me for that Dean, what you’re saying is utter bullshit! God, I just want to punch you right now, knock a little sense in into that brain of yours, you’re being so stupid! You’re also not the only one with enemies! I’ve killed countless demons! Maybe you’ll be the one taken and tortured to get to me huh! Ever think of that! I’m not asking for a goddamn marriage proposal Dean! I want my friend back! I want you back Dean you have no idea how much I miss you!”

“‘That makes two of us?’ You’re in love with me too?” Dean was looking down at his aching palm, holding it in his healthy hand.

“Did you completely ignore everything I just said after that?” 

“No, no I heard you, and you’re right. I have no excuse for the way I treated you and you do deserve better. And God did I miss you too. I’m really, truly sorry.”

“Good, you should be.” He could hear the smile on her lips before he looked up to see it. “That’s the most ridiculous reason I’ve ever heard for pushing someone away by the way.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Also, really unfair.” The smile was gone again.

“I know.” She laughed softly.

“Dean you realize I’ve loved you for -- jeez -- for forever. Notice I didn’t push you away when I became aware of it.”

“Forever? Like since we met?”

“Yeah, and I still outlasted you before turning into a complete dick.” Dean chuckled looking up to the women he now openly loved. She had moved closer to him and the door had been closed.

“Yeah, I was really just sick of you being so nice but look at you know.” His words were laced with sarcasm as he smirked, awaiting her reaction.

“Well, you did say you loved me so I guess I can stop now.” She took a step closer just as Dean did.

“It was that spaghetti sauce you made. I love a woman who can cook.” Another step closer.

“That, I must say, is one of your more sexist comments.” She reached for his hips pulling him against her body.

“Well, I guess since I’ve made one, I might as well make another. You’re mine.” His hands came to her cheeks as his eyes bore into her own.

“That’s not sexist, that just possessive.” Y/N had never been one to welcome possession in that way. She was her own person and would be treated as such, but the way Dean said it didn’t imply possession or ownership, it implied protection. He was promising that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe and she knew he would.

“I mean it though, you’re mine.”

“As long as you’re mine.” Dean didn’t waste any time, responding with a strong, insistent kiss. His demands were met as she pressed her lips against his. Their moves were synchronized, hands sliding over shoulders and under shirts, feet ambitiously stepping towards the bed, lips sucking on whatever skin they could get at, eyes closed as the verbal communication had been put to a minimum, all words translated into touches. Dean backed his way to the bed dropping his weight gracefully while still holding Y/N as she braced herself on her hands on each side of Dean's shoulders. Y/N moaned into the kiss as she straddled Dean's hips, moving her hand under the hem of his shirt sliding them over his taut torso. They parted, catching their breath as she rested her forehead on his breathing heavily, eyes squeezed shut, with a smile.

“Dean.”

“I know,” He opened his eyes brushing her hair from hers to look into them. “hunt tomorrow.” She smiled holding back a giggle.

“I was really hoping you would forget about that and just kiss me again.”

“I still can.” He leaned up capturing her lips with his. “We really should sleep though.”

“I know but,” She kisses him again working her hands over his body “I really don’t want to.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said as he sat up holding her in his lap kissing her once more. “I really, really want to, but there’s this part of me that wants to do this properly.” He brushed more hair from her face to behind her ear cupping her cheek.

“Properly?”

“A date, dinner, a movie maybe.”

She chuckled. “That’s lame. But I accept.”

“You realize you’re the cheese ball romantic who forced me to watch Grease.”

“Not anymore, mister ‘I don’t sleep with a girl before I take her out.’ Also, you love Grease.” He kissed her again acting as though he couldn’t get enough of her, which, had she asked him, was true.

“Sleep then?” She asked.

“Yes, please. Haven’t slept properly in two nights.”

“How’s your hand?” They shuffled around in the bed to be in their respective spots.

“It’ll be fine. Thank you by the way, for taking care of me even when I really didn’t deserve your kindness.”

“Just promise me you won’t push me when I try to help you next time, okay?”

“Nuh-uh, it's my turn to help you.”

“You know,” She lifted her hand for him to take which he did only to pull her over into his arms. “to be fair you had the opportunity to help me a couple of seconds ago, but you turned me down.” There was a smirk on her face as she looked up to him from his chest.

“Oh, don’t you worry your little head about that. I’ll make sure you get all the help you need…and more” He winked at her before kissing the top of her head as they did their collective best to fall asleep.

“Dean?”

“Mmm.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Course.”

“What are your nightmares about?” There was a substantially long pause in which Y/N considered telling Dean not to worry about telling her if he didn’t want to but he finally answer. Though it was a whisper, it rang through the room being the only sound to be heard.

“They used to be of my mum, or Sammy getting hurt.”

“And now?”

“You.”

“I’m not that scary am I?” Fully aware that that wasn’t why him dreaming of her was scary, Y/N rubbed his chest with her hand in a reassuring manner. She managed to get a chuckle out of him though.

“No…you dying. I’ve lost you thousands of times in thousands of different ways. And I’m never able to save you.” He stopped there fearing he’d sob if he kept going, nevertheless losing the battle against a single tear that ran its path on the side of his face. Y/N turned gently in his grip holding his face against her hand to kiss him tenderly.

“I’m not going anywhere, Winchester… Promise.”

“You can’t promise something like that.”

“Sure, I can. I just did, didn’t I?”

“Y/N—“ “Dean. Stop worrying, just stop. Let it all go. I’m right here, I’m in your arms, alive and safe. Stop worrying about what could happen, be thankful for what you have. With the life we live Dean, it’s the only realistic way of being happy.” Dean took what she said to heart though it would inevitably be hard to follow through.

“I promise to try.”

“That’s all I ask… me huh... you dream about me.” Y/N was flattered though unmistakably hurting on behalf of Dean.

“What can I say, I’m hopelessly devoted to you.”

“I knew you love that movie, and don’t even try to deny it Dean-o”

“Still sounds stupid.” Dean said with his eyes closed referring to his nickname.

“Good” There was a giggle before they settled. With one last kiss she rested her head over his heart and fell asleep closely followed by Dean.

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They never go to ‘properly’, instead, agreeing, after a not so long talk, that they had had enough dinners and movie nights to last a lifetime— though they wouldn’t write off their traditional movie night. In reality, they were both too impatient after sleeping in the same bed, the sexual tension had become tangible. They had also come to an agreement to continue sharing the same bed seeing as it was the only way either would sleep properly, holding hands of course. Y/N had gotten hurt on multiple occasions and Dean naturally blamed himself. Meanwhile, Y/N didn’t give in to his behaviour; telling him to grow up and that ‘Shit happens’ as she politely put it before telling Dean to get the first aid kit or back in bed seeing as he always picked the topic back up before going to sleep. Dean had also gotten hurt on several occasions as well, though Y/N would help him without a word. Y/N didn’t care about how many times she would get hurt and Dean was the same with himself. They were both happy at the end of the day, as long as they got to fall asleep in the same bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   Fin   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I just want to say thank you to everyone who has been here since the beginning as much as those who have join since; I appreciate you all.

I had so much fun writing this story and even more fun having you read it. I’ve gotten so much love out of writing this and it’s thanks to my readers. So thank you. 

Tag List: @akshi8278​ @bargedog @just-someone-difficult​ @mila-dans​ @valhallavxlkyrie​ @thoughts-and-funnies​

Series Tag List: @autobotgirl15-blog​ @classyunknownlover​ @laycblack​ @lovememisha​ @music-is-all-i-need​ @redbarn1995​ @wellfuckmyexistence​