#ask drew winchester

[staffs-secret-blog]

Why do we hate John Winchester for literally being a Vietnam war vet with just heaps of trauma on top of his trauma with trauma sauce, who didn't do a great job as a dad for sure. Still he did the best he could with the cards he was dealt.... yet we forgive Sam who literally went to Stanford and spent 15 seasons bitching and moaning about how life's not fair. To his brother who literally spent what felt like lifetimes being tortured in hell to save his sorry ass, lost everyone he ever loved, had a shot at the family of his dreams and had to give it up to keep them safe, AND kept a good attitude about the whole thing?

Honestly? Fuck Sam Winchester right in the bellybutton.

Leave me alone why did you send me this

[egipci]

hello please expound on "he wouldn't be proud"

Hello! Alright, so, a couple of months ago there was a bit of analysis going around about the first half of Devil's Trap, specifically about how Azazel had possessed John to use as bait, etc. (If anyone knows what I'm talking about please send a link my way). And I remember thinking, isn't it strange/interesting that an extremely powerful demonic entity spent 24+ hours in John's brain, presumably scraping data, and still couldn't come up with something to fool Dean in the cabin? And you could say, well Dean knows his father better than anyone. And I love that-- not only because I'm invested in their relationship but also because I think that's true. Dean is John's longest relationship/partnership, and I think by the time John dies Dean is adult enough to have a more mature/nuanced understanding of his father, Dean is his confidant, they share all sorts of secrets that Sam is not privy to and which are revealed continuously over the course of the show (up to s14), Dean looks up to him and studies him and for that reason I would even say that John is probably the person Dean knows best, at that point in the narrative. So, yes, Dean is the person who knows John best in the world.

But I find this take not fully satisfying, because, actually, what Azazel says should have worked. This is how the dialogue in Devil's Trap goes:

Almost everything Azazel says a) is true and b) Dean knows is true. 1) "I won't miss" is the reckless bravado we see John exhibit throughout and which Dean actively calls him out on so --- sounds like Dad, and it's not crazy to imagine that he would want to take the kill-shot after he dedicated over two decades to hunting Azazel; 2) "Sam and I get obsessed" --- Dean himself has said this multiple times, and "You look out for this family" is what we observe to be true by watching the show, and we know Dean agrees --- and this actually could have been the weird un-Dad-like thing to say, but that's not what Dean singles out. It comes down to "he wouldn't be proud of me," --- and I actually think Dean is wrong here!

Maybe John wouldn't say "I'm proud" outright, but he surely wouldn't "tear [Dean] a new one," and we know this because pretty much every time we see Dean stand up to John in person, John folds.

We see this a couple of times in Dead Man's Blood.

After which John just turns around and gets back in his car and there is a momentary truce. He doesn't lash out at Dean, he doesn't try to instigate a physical fight, he doesn't say anything humiliating or try to undermine his position as mediator, etc. It's stark how differently he reacts to Dean and to Sam in this scene.

There are also the more obvious moments where the camera pans to Sam's face to show that "oh shit Dean is really stepping out of line here":

Sam is doing his oh shit face, and you can tell Dean is close to shitting his pants (if he hasn't already) --- but but again, there is no explosive reaction here. John just explains that 1) Azazel is extremely powerful, 2) John expects to die, and 3) "I can't watch my children die" --- he's vulnerable with them and expresses his anxieties and pretty much confesses his willingness to die for this mission. This conversation ends with a "this is an order" and they leave having (silently) agreed to follow John's plan. Of course, they don't, and we get this moment at the end of the episode:

Look at their little freaked faces--- and not only is John cool once again, he also agrees to their plan.

Next episode, Salvation, we have this interaction:

and Netflix doesn't transcribe this fully for some reason but John says, "You're right. I'm sorry," at the end there. Is he being dismissive? Sure. He doesn't clarify that "in fact, I was there in Lawrence," which leads me to believe that if he were there somewhere off-screen in Faith he wouldn't have mentioned it either. But, point stands, this guy is not getting off the bed to start a fight, he's not shouting, he's not throwing insults, etc. He's consistently mellower than we and Sam and Dean expect him to be, from the first time we see him interact with them in Shadow and reconcile with Sam (Sam is anxious about this moment throughout the season, but not Dean! He knows Dad is proud of Sam.)

And this scene in Salvation ends up with him going off with the decoy gun and giving up his shot at Azazel because he trusts his kids. He thinks they're competent! He respects them as partners on the job! And maybe he didn't always think this but after the events of the past year he's changed his mind. He's proud of them and he's proud of Dean, and he tells him in In My Time of Dying.

Is it 100% certain that John in the specific event of shooting-possessed-man-to-save-Sam would be proud of Dean? It's far from a sure thing, but we know Dean thinks his priority is always Sam's protection, as dictated by Dad. Why would Dad not be proud of him doing his job? Specially when he and Sam agree that there was no other way, it was Sam or the other guy? And when we know John is ready to shoot whoever comes through the door to kill Azazel, including the human victim?

Azazel's bit in the cabin should have worked. The reason it doesn't is because Dean doesn't believe Dad would say that. No matter how their dynamic ostensibly changes, it's too little, too late. Dean has already internalized a certain idea of where he stands in the family and what his dad believes about him --- that's the crux of the confrontation with his dream self in Dream a Little Dream of Me. Two years after John dies for him, Dean's innermost self believes that his father "didn't care if you live or die"!!! That's crazy! And I don't mean to say that Dean is delusional or exaggerates the trauma he experienced at his father's hands-- I'm saying that's how deep that shit runs. It's simply irrational and counter to the evidence. (And obviously even before we get to that point in S3, Dean articulates this same belief in S2 when he deals for Sam's life, believing his life would be meaningless otherwise).

The reason Azazel doesn't win that day is because Dean's daddy issues/ abysmal self-esteem win out, and that just makes me a little crazy! It's not that John wouldn't be proud of him, it's that Dean wouldn't believe him even if he said he were.

Yes, Dean knows his father intimately, and he knows him better than anyone, and still he doesn't know his father would die for him; he sees John sitting by his bedside in 2x1 and thinks that his dad is going to let him die. (No wonder Azazel mocks John with the sentimentalist line-- another thing he knows from being inside his head!). The profound failure to communicate on John's part here is staggering. After raising them single-handedly for twenty-two years, he has somehow left his kids, and his right-hand man/sonwife, with the impression that he would just let them die if it comes to it!!! It's so heartbreaking to watch their interactions and think about Dean's memories with that level of fucked-up-ness in mind--- because I can't help thinking that if Dean had spoken up earlier, as he was growing up, John would have listened. I don't think John deliberately raised Dean to be his dog; I think John's failure is not doing anything to cultivate Dean's personhood separate from himself, which is like, a parent's main job, and withholding the affection he does genuinely feel.

[dean-smiths-suspenders]

here’s a little post-canon dean doodle, come get y’all’s food!

p.s pls click for the lighting to be actual lighting. please

[bunnysbrainrot]

Size Matters

Kinktober Prompt: Size kink

Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader

Content: Explicit sexual scenes, oral (f receiving), creampie (wrap it up, kids), dirty talk, rough sex, dom Sam, fluffy/funny aftercare (it’s crucial)

Summary: Your plan for making the boys dinner goes awry, leaving you alone with Sam in his bedroom, and coming to terms with a kink that only Sam Winchester can fulfill.

A/N: 🤭

"C'mon,' you strain, reaching for a high shelf in the cabinet. Apparently Sam and Dean didn't find a need for a stepladder in the bunker. Your calves screech in protest as you reach for a jar of pasta sauce, your fingers brush the bottle, but not enough purchase to grab it.

A long arm reaches above your head, grabbing the sauce in a large, familiar hand. Sam hands you the jar with a smile.

You took it from his hands and chide, "Not everyone's as vertically gifted as you and your brother, you know. Y'could be more inclusive and invest in a stepstool."

He leans against the counter you'd been setting ingredients on. Sam's eyes scan over your form as you open the pasta sauce.

"You know you can ask us for help, right?"

"I was gonna make dinner for us, I didn't want to make you guys help me," you reply Sam stands fully now and looks over your shoulder. You crane your neck to look up at him, "How's the weather up there?"

Sam chuckles lightly, "You know, I could tease you about your height. It'd be pretty easy."

You turn back to the counter and place freshly-washed vegetables on a cutting board. Unsheathing a knife from the knife block, you keep conversation with Sam.

"I don't have a problem with being short," you bump your hip sideways into Sam's leg. He does the same to you, except the direct strike in the ribs knocks you off balance, stumbling over.

He's able to snatch you up to safety before you bust your ass on the floor. Now cradled in Sam's arms, a rush of comfort comes over you in his stable grip. His hands catch your waist, with his long fingers spreading broad across your torso. Fuck, together they could probably go around most of your waist, and those fingers...

You snap out of your stupor to find Sam smiling down at you. His eyes linger on yours long enough for your mind to wander, wondering who would lean in first. Stolen glances at each other's lips, hitched breath, low-lidded eyes, it was a perfect concoction for Sam to kiss you.

Beneath him, you're so delicate in his arms, as if you'll break if he isn't careful. It was in his own reflexes to catch you, but the feelings that rushed through him afterwards were something deeper. Almost instinctive that in any moment with you like this, hushed and ogling, would lead to something more. Forget dinner, he thought, he could just order something for delivery.

At least, after he's done with you.

"Sam," you whisper. Maybe you hadn't been paying attention, but his face is now just inches from your own.

He finds himself leaned over further, close enough to share the same air, breaths mixing.

You smile nervously, and to your relief Sam gives one of his own. But he doesn't break away - doesn't help you to your feet to cut vegetables for the dinner you were kindly making for him. It couldn't matter much now that he's holding you like this.

"Sorry," he replies, barely audible. You wave your hands in dismissal and place them around his neck. The air shifts as the movement brings you ever closer, your lips no more than three inches away from Sam's.

"It's okay," you whisper. Soft, hazel eyes wander over your face and flicker to your lips, seemingly stuck there until Sam takes a risk he'd been waiting for.

Relief washes over you when his lips meet yours. After all this time, it turns out that he had the guts to break this tension, and everything that had been bottled up could now overflow. You let a deep hunger overtake your body, purely going on instinct as Sam embraces you. Sam sighs into your kiss and swallows a moan it drew from your throat, whiny and eager.

Sam nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it tentatively with his teeth. You do the same in response, only harder. Testing the waters. Usually a dangerous game, especially with a Winchester.

Your hands had made their way to his broad shoulders - his lean muscles flexing and stretching as he moves his hands over you, meandering from your waist, spanning from your shoulder blades to the top of your ass. His fingers toy with the fabric of your clothes, like he was trying to unwrap a present too early and didn't want to rip the packaging.

“Not here,” Sam says, his words slurring like a love-drunk fool, “Can’t do this here.”

He breaks the kiss and leaves you panting for more; there's a new darkness in his stare, one that makes you shudder. You give him a smile, wiggling in his grip to the pasta sauce jar, and shut it closed.

“What about dinner?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “You seem like you have other plans.”

He was caught red handed, but you weren’t declining the advances. If anything you spurred them on as much as he did.

Sam slowly releases you from his grip, setting you stably on your feet. Not once have his eyes left you, even if you weren’t paying attention - Sam was set on this goal, you’d given him the ‘yes’ he needed, and he intended to make good on his commitment.

Patience was wearing thin for Sam. He ogles at the sight of you bent at the waist, putting the pasta sauce and veggies back in the fridge. The curve of your ass sucks him in whole, as if there were nothing else in the room.

A hand settles on your ass from behind, cupping and kneading gently. You let out a shuddering exhale before standing and turning to Sam.

The softness of your voice surprises you, “Where do you want me?”

The ball was in his court. Sam looks you over coolly, his hands kept to themselves in his pants pockets. Your eyes drift lower and pause on the large bulge in Sam’s pants, straining slightly against his thick jeans.

“My bedroom,” he said plainly.

—

There was little time to brace yourself for Sam’s next move. You're pressed against the wall before you can protest, although you wouldn’t dare object to this.

Sam grips the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, wedging your hips with his own, keeping you steady. A new hardness presses against your core as Sam juts his hips into you, pure instinct taking over his movements. His cock twitches in his jeans - he needs to watch his cock sink into you, to watch your face contort in bliss when he bottoms out in your pussy.

There was nothing small about Sam Winchester - he's a Goliath of a man, towering over you at any given time, with thick broad muscles that send a rushing heat to your sex. If your intrusive thoughts ever won, you were sure he could toss you around like it was nothing.

But now, you didn’t have much choice but to stay pinned to the wall, where you and Sam both grind your hips desperately, letting out lilted moans and grunts against each other’s skin.

The friction on your swelling clit was rough and warm, with Sam's cock perfectly nestled atop your drenched slit. Each rough push shot pleasure through your core, but it wasn’t enough for your aching cunt.

“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” he emphasized. You shook your head at him. You wouldn’t break so easily, but if anyone were to shatter you apart, it could happily be Sam.

Your lips found his ear, after staining yourself up his long torso, “I’m not gonna break that easily, don’t worry.”

“Oh, yeah?” his voice deepened as his lips found your neck, eagerly nipping at your skin and making you whine. "Let's test that theory."

You gripped the hem of your shirt and shimmied it over your head, casting it to the floor carelessly.

Sam’s eyes trail over your chest, still beautifully bound by your bra. Their softness served as an undeniable invitation for his mouth to lower. He dips his head to greedily nip and suckle at the supple skin, leaving red and purple splotches in his wake.

You grip at his hair, urgently tugging him closer, as if the direct contact could never be enough to satisfy. Each of your soft moans is echoed with a low groan from Sam’s chest. He had doubled over, completely encapsulating you in his clean scent, now thick with a lustful musk.

Two fingers found the band of your bra, unclipping it with the utmost ease, and cast it to the floor with your shirt. Through panting breaths, Sam works off his shirt, though his lips have no hesitation to return to your exposed chest, and found a pebbled nipple between his teeth, rolling and biting to bring out a symphony of moans from the both of you.

Your hands lunged for the waistband of your pants. Sam took notice and sighs happily against your skin, his warm breath like a gentle wave across everything you'd exposed to him. Above you, Sam grew more unhinged with each passing second, grabbing and biting and kneading your flesh like a man starved.

Sam's lips capture yours once more in a tangle of tongues and teeth, exploring one another as if it was your only chance to do so. His tongue grazed the roof of your mouth, swallowing a deep moan that erupts from deep within your chest. He assesses your position and grows frustrated. It would be difficult to remove your, or his, pants without risking dropping you to the floor.

As quickly as you'd been slammed into the wall, Sam tosses you onto his bed, but stays standing at its foot, his hands reaching for his belt buckle. All else in the room vanished as you watch him remove the thick denim, shoving it down his legs to the floor. His cock strained against his boxers, throbbing and twitching to be free.

"Those," Sam nodded his head to your pants, "off."

The sudden dominance springs you into action. Your hands fly to your waistband and wiggle them off of your hips, down your thighs, and kick them away. Your soaked panties act as your final barrier, barring you from what you so badly needed.

Sam returns to his hunched position over you, letting his hands rove over your exposed thighs and ass, pawing at you greedily. You reach down to the band of his boxers, and slip your fingers under the elastic, inching them down until you felt a resistance against it - Sam's cock fights against the removal, straining your short arms until Sam reaches down to aid you.

The head of his cock springs up to smack against your covered core. You gasp softly at its warmth, your neglected cunt tightens around nothing of substance, an empty hole aching to be filled with something substantial.

"Feel." This was Sam's only order as he tugs your hand down to his length, coaxing you to wrap your small fingers around the middle of his shaft.

He's thick and warm against your palm, with a thick vein creeping up its underside to the tip. Your mouth waters at the way his cock twitches eagerly in your hand, and you slowly begin to pump along his length, making Sam hiss through his teeth.

Sam's voice is lower than you'd ever heard; it sends a heat directly to your teased pussy, now bracing against the base of Sam's cock. Its length covers most of your abdomen, casting your body in its silhouette in the dim lamplight of the room.

"Jesus..." he remarks wistfully, trailing a free hand up to his tip, pressing into the soft flesh of your belly.

Beneath him like this, Sam can finally see the scale of his cock to your insides, mapping out precisely where he'll settle inside of you. You whine softly as his cock drags another stroke over your soaked folds - the abrasion from your underwear was no longer tantalizing, but rather a nuisance.

His breathing becomes ragged, "I need to taste you."

The words shudder through you as Sam's lips work through the valley of your breasts, showering kisses along your middle, and finally he settles between your thighs. Sam places a kiss atop your clit, still kept out of sight by your soaked panties. Two fingers hook into the waistband and tug downward, sliding the soiled garment off of your shaky legs and to the floor behind him.

Cold air strikes your slit as Sam pries it open with two thick fingers, teasing at your aching hole, spreading the wetness around your cunt.

"Are you always this wet when you think about me?" his voice tremors through you. You nod quietly and hold your breath as Sam's head dips lower. All you can see is his rich brown hair cascading over your belly before warmth spread through your core, leaving you moaning at his first touch.

With the way his tongue teased at your clit, Sam may as well have set you ablaze. Your skin radiated a warmth unlike no other, rolling in waves as the cold of the air shocked your most sensitive areas.

"Sam," you whine, carding your fingers through his soft locks. You tug on him gently to push him further.

He pays no mind to your plea, and instead wraps his toned arms under your thighs, pulling your pussy flush against his thick tongue. It flicks your clit perfectly, and pairs with his lips as he suckles on the sweet bundle of nerves.

The taste of you makes Sam groan, his cock straining against the mattress beneath him. Above him, your moans and cries are a siren song, calling him to the bottomless sea of his desire. He pictures what lies ahead - you, sprawled on the bed, blissed out from his tongue and cock, sated and sleepy from a relentless pounding.

That image is pasted in his mind as he laps at your cunt, occasionally dipping his tongue into your tight entrance, and tasting your innermost parts. You arch your back at his touch, sighing his name like a prayer. His restless tongue toys with your hardening clit as pressure builds in your belly.

Sam creates a rhythm on your clit that sends you unfurling under his touch, mewling and whining and moaning slurred versions of Sam and please and need you. But he refuses to give more. Not until he can taste your release directly on his tongue.

The tightness in your belly snaps, breaking you apart until you're crying Sam's name against your hand, clasped firmly against your mouth. His tongue lolls over your clit even still, skyrocketing the shockwaves of the orgasm and making you whimper. Your slick coats his tongue and fills Sam's senses. All there is is you, your sounds, and your delicious cunt.

"Fuck," mumbles Sam, his voice reverberating through your convulsing sex, clamping down onto nothing.

You whine in response. All thought and sense had escaped your mind, now shattered and cast off to a void in the back of your mind. Sam laps up your juices and swallows, savoring every last drop your body had to offer.

The cold air of the room kisses your exposed cunt as Sam rises to his knees, his heavy cock bobbing above your abdomen.

"So small," he remarks, lining his cock over your stomach and admiring just how much of your body he'd overtake.

You'd surely be sore for days afterward, which sent a flush of pride through his chest. His cock ached to carve you hollow - to leave you gaping after a thorough fucking, to shape your pussy perfectly for him.

His hips rear back as he positions himself with your wet hole, shining with your slick, beckoning him inside. Sam's eyes meet yours when he notches the head of his cock past your entrance, surveying your expressions as he slowly filled you out. The girth of his cock could practically split you down your middle, stretching your little pussy to wrap perfectly around his shaft.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," Sam groans, ogling at his own cock as it spread your pussy open. His hands press against the backs of your thighs and push them toward your chest, angling himself so the both of you could share the view.

He sighs, "Look at that - such a big cock, stretching out your tiny pussy, just for me."

Astonishment, teasing, and lust filled his tone, and something else. Something more primal that has your walls fluttering around Sam's cock.

You gape at the sight of his cock entering you, and you finally come to terms with exactly just how big he is. Your pussy is stretched blissfully wide, swallowing his length with earnest. Sam slams his hips and strikes deep, the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

Each thrust is harsher than the last and all you can do is stare at the brutality your pussy is being subjected to. You cry out as Sam's cock crashes into you, every time, without fail.

At this point, there's no hiding the reality of what's behind Sam's bedroom door. If Dean, or anyone else, heard you, let them. Bliss overcomes your senses and dulls all rationality in your muddled mind.

There is nothing else that matters - just the overwhelming size of Sam Winchester and his remarkable cock.

He whispers your name like a summons, meeting his eyes with yours as he presses your body into the mattress. A hand presses into your tummy. Sam gasps softly and takes your hand to replace his own.

"Feel that?" his purrs, pressing onto your hand to deliver some pressure. As he thrusts in you can feel a shift in your insides, until you feel a firm strike of the head of his cock against you palm.

You look to him with wide eyes and find a wicked smile plastered on his face.

Sam crouches over you, enveloping you with his large size, encasing your body with his. He leans toward your ear, "Can you feel it up here, baby? Because I can. I can feel how tiny your cunt is before I go in and stretch it out."

He pushes deeper, to let you really feel it, "I can feel how you try to fit me, and how just tight you're getting, 'cause you're gonna cum, aren't you?"

A dumb nod follows his question, making his grin widen across his lips. No words form on your lips, only shaky wanton moans reply to his commentary.

"I know, sweetheart, feels good," Sam coos, slowing down his movements to draw out a raw cry from your throat. His cock drags through your walls until its head is all that remains, and slams in harshly.

Your cry is on the verge of a scream, but Sam does not relent. There is no plea to stop or slow down, because this is all you'd been dreaming of - to feel a comforting helplessness under someone far larger, to be at their disposal and usage.

A growl leaves his throat, "So fucking small... I bet you feel like you could break, huh? With my cock this deep inside you, your little pussy can barely take any more, can it?"

Your walls clench around him in reply, pulling Sam in deeper until his balls slap against your ass, now pairing with the obscene squelching of your abused pussy.

Between the lilting moans and quieted pleas from your perfect mouth, Sam issn't sure how much longer he can last. He vows to himself that he will not give in to it yet, not until he feels it. He needs to feel the way you wrap around his cock when you cum.

He needs to be the reason you finish, this time and each orgasm after.

"You've been waiting for this. You've wanted this the whole time - someone big and strong to pound your little pussy 'til you can't stand. Because you want a thick cock splitting you open." Sam stammers through the last few words - his own comments are bringing him closer to the brink, but you've already reached yours.

You shudder around him harshly as your orgasm hits you full-force, leaving you no room to ride it out as Sam's pace quickens. His breath hitches at the sensations flowing through his throbbing length - he hisses when you clench around his sensitive tip, leaving his gasping as he fucks you faster. Harder. Deeper.

His cock plunges into your cunt, hitting that same spot in your tummy as he mentioned before. Sam's hand presses against your abdomen, adding a glorious pressure that has you climaxing again in a matter or seconds.

"Thaaaat's it, attagirl," he encourages. "Such a tight little cunt, but she takes me so well."

The words flow through you like fire, sending you over the brink once again and leaving you whimpering beneath him. Sam smirks, knowing he's doing his job right, he has you exactly where he wants you, pinned, helpless, and impossibly full.

"Please... S-Sam," you whisper.

He laughs, pounding you so roughly you can barely brace for the slam against your cervix, "Can't handle it, can you, baby? I thought you said you don't break easily."

Your soft cries reach his ears as you slip into that thoughtless void of your mind, moaning with each strike.

Sam's lips brush over the shell of your ear, "You think you're so strong, but I'll break you. I'll have your cunt so bruised you can't think about anything else - only me, because this pussy is mine, do you understand?"

A reply doesn't come, only the sounds of your moans fill his ears. Sam delivers a harsh slap to your ass, thrusting his cock as deep as he could manage. You let out a long moan but still don't reply.

"Who's pussy is this?"

The words form on your lips and fall out feebly, "Y-yours."

He kisses your forehead, but does not let his hips falter, "That's right, angel. All mine."

Pressure builds in his abdomen, his balls growing tight as his own release crept up from behind. Sam nips at your earlobe, his words clang through you with a primal desire.

"And since this pussy's mine, I'm going to fill it."

The swift relentless pace resumes, crashing into your hips to verge on soreness, your tight cunt still wrapping perfectly around him, and Sam's name falling past your slacked mouth. Sam's eyes screw shut as his own orgasm finally approaches, and his cock begins to twitch.

He unsheathes his cock from your warm walls, aiming directly at your now gaping pussy. Sam pumps himself fervently as his cum spurts from his cock, right into your stretched hole. You stare in awe as his cum seeps into your cunt, the angle of your hips inviting it all in.

Sam hisses, "Keep it all in there."

You pant as you try to recover yourself, but Sam plunges his cock into you again, making you let out a low, drawn-out moan. He strikes as deeply as before, his movements are urgent, borderline predatory, insistent to have you bred nicely.

"Keep it in there, and don't you dare fucking waste it."

His movements start to slow - the thrusts are languid and gentle until Sam finally pulls himself out of your abused pussy. He grips your thighs and lowers them until you can finally breathe freely again, gasping in the cool, refreshing air.

"There you go. Deep breaths, honey," Sam coaxes, running his hands along your sore hips, massaging gently into the aching flesh. You do as you're advised and calm your breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. Sam did the same until he slumped into the mattress next to you, groaning into the sheets.

You smile lazily at him, "You okay over there?"

Sam nods into the bed, still letting out a low groan, "Y'fuckin' drained me."

Pride wells in your chest. You giggle at him, earning you a playful slap on your thigh. Your giggle turns into a hearty laugh before you nestle next to Sam, eyes fluttering shut with fatigue. He takes notice and nudges you.

"Bathroom, no UTI's for us today."

You retort, "Sam, I don't think I can even walk properly right now."

He shifts and rises from the bed, scooping you into his arms and lifting you to his chest. Your laughs echo around the room as Sam Winchester takes you to the bathroom, ever the gentleman.

Hi! Thank you all for your patience as i get out of my lil' brain funk. I hope you enjoyed!

If you liked this fic, reblog to show others! Who cares if we're depraved little animals?? don't you just wanna go apeshit???

anyways ily, and i hope this fic gets the love it needs cause i had a wonderful time writing it >:3

[apocalypseornaw]

Tell Me

Dean Winchester x Reader

Talk of period sex

NSFW happenings

You'd known the moment you snatched away from Dean's hand that you'd end up having to explain why. You could blame it on post fight adrenaline, the need to clear bodies and get the hell out of dodge or even just wanting to get a shower before first aid being administered. 

You saw him and Sam exchange a look before the three of you made quick work of cleaning up, getting victims to safety and putting the town in your rear view mirror.

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

You loved Dean and hoped like hell just this once he'd let it go, you were too damn embarrassed to admit what was going on. You sat in the backseat of the impala, dozing off and watching mile markers fly by. 

You woke up when Dean asked Sam if Chinese and the Copper Bird Inn sounded good to him. You glanced up about the time Dean glanced in the mirror "Good with you too sweetheart?" You nodded and he half smiled "Ok then. Sammy, you grab the rooms and I'll go grab the Chinese" 

You sat at the small table in the room while Sam sat next to you and Dean sat across from you. Anytime the three of you ate Chinese it always ended up with everyone stealing everyone's food so it was a habit by now to ask for empty containers for mixing purposes. The boys were talking about a case Bobby had called about and you were focusing on a hot shower and an attempt at some sleep. 

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

You nearly choked on air however when Dean absent-mindedly reached across the table to brush his fingers across your arm that was closest to him. It was a simple touch, an innocent one that he'd done even long before the two of you had confronted your feelings for each other. He said it helped him calm down after a hunt or to focus if he's talking about the next hunt. It was certainly not something you should've had such a reaction to. 

Him and Sam cut their eyes at each other and you could feel your cheeks warm. "Is the chicken spicier than usual?" Dean raised an eyebrow and shook his head "are you ok baby?" You nearly drew blood with how hard you bit your cheek when he called you baby before nodded "I think I'm just tired" 

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

The boys decided to call it a night too so Dean walked with you next door to Sam's room where you and him had a room with two queen sized beds as well. That was all the hotel had left. You were starting to be greatful for it.  

The moment you stepped into the room Dean slipped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him "Are you sure you're ok? You've been acting a little off this entire hunt" 

You turned to face him, letting a playful smile slip onto your face "You doubting my skills Winchester?" He grinned "Never in a million years honey but if something's wrong between us you'd tell me wouldn't you?" You felt a twinge of guilt, you'd been too concerned at your own feelings to take his into account. "Of course Dean. There's nothing wrong with us baby. I promise" he smiled "ok" then brushed a soft kiss against your lips.

Dean took you at your words. Maybe you pulling away from him was just a post fight adrenaline thing, maybe you acting off was nothing he needed to worry about. There was still that voice at the back of his mind nagging him. The two of you had been friends for so many years before becoming more, he thought there wasn't a lot you wouldn't trust him with but he felt like there was something going on and when you refused to shower with him that all but confirmed something was wrong.

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

He stepped out the shower with intention to talk to you, maybe even convince you into talking with a backrub with stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you were laying on the bed closest to the door. "No ma'am" he spoke without thinking.

You turned to face him, confusion clouding your face "What's wrong baby?" He wiped a hand down his face before starting to count off on his fingers "You acted off the whole time we were talking to victims families, You wouldn't let me check on you after the hunt, you didn't even want to get rooms separate from Sammy, you choked on air from me touching me, you refused to shower me with me now you're on the bed closest to the door which you know I've never let you do and I'm not letting it go with you saying nothings wrong. Something is wrong. Tell me. Now"

You covered your face with your hands and mumbled something. He crossed the floor in maybe three steps before he was on the bed with you, gently pulling your hands from your face "What?" 

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

You should not have been this embarrassed but damn your exes and your mother had pushed such a sense of shame into you about it. Staring into the bright green eyes of the man you loved it seemed so stupid to be worried that Dean of all people would judge you for any reason "My period came two weeks early"

He nodded slowly "Do you needs pads or tampons or something?" You shook your head "No I always pack my period panties just in case" his brow furrowed "Sweetheart I'm not getting what's wrong" you closed your eyes "You, Dean" "Me?" He sounded so offended and only then did you realize what you said.

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

You opened your eyes and saw the hurt in his. You grabbed his hands and could feel your cheeks warm "You know my hormones are a bitch during my period" he nodded then his expression turned from hurt to humor "Are you turned on sweetheart and didn't know how to tell me?" 

"Dean Winchester everything you fucking do turns me on. When we were talking to victims families, You kept putting your hand on my lower back. That thing you do when you barely let your fingers graze my arm" you shivered lightly as he slowly crawled up the bed kissing what of your flesh your tank top and shorts gave him access to.

"The way you see yourself as just a foot soldier and you're so much more. You're such an amazing man.." his fingers joined his lips exploring what of your flesh wasn't covered by clothing and you gave a light whimper "and you in a fight..that's a thing of beauty" your voice was nearly a whisper when his mouth found your neck, lips working at your pulse point. 

"There's no one I could ever want or love more than you"  he practically growled into your skin before leaning back to look into your eyes "You've had me scared I was losing you. I don't ever want to feel like that" he caught your lips in a gentle kiss, tongue teasing against yours. "I'm sorry Dean"

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

"Next time just tell me what you need" he laughed before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it. Your eyes widened "Dean, I'm bleeding" he grinned "When has blood ever bothered me?" He reached for your tank and when you leaned up to let him pull it off he winked at you before leaning down to roll one of your nipples before his teeth.

Your back arched off the bed and Dean chuckled, the vibration going through your body before he pulled away from you "like I'd deny myself seeing that reaction out of you?" His hand slipped between your legs, rubbing your clothed core "Dean, I don't need any teasing or hardly any foreplay. I want you inside of me...please"

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

The look he gave you could've made you could undone on its on. "Well look who finally learned her words like a good girl" he rutted his hips down against yours and a gasp left you when you felt how hard he already was "see that? That's what you do to me sweetheart. Don't ever think you can't ask me for what you want" 

Before you could say anything he was pulling your shorts off your legs tossing them to the side then standing up long enough to slip his sweatpants off. He crawled back onto the bed, hooking your legs around his waist as he lined himself up with your core "Anytime you want me, just tell me" with that he pushed into you pulling a moan from you both. 

He leaned forward to catch your lips in a searing kiss and the angle had you practically melting and he hadn't even moved yet. He grinned into the kiss "Fuck you feel amazing baby" you laughed breathlessly "Took the words out of my mouth" 

He tentatively rolled his hips and when your head fell back against the pillow he must have gotten the confirmation he needed because he kissed your neck and said "I love you. Tell me if anything is too much"

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

The grip Dean had on your hips was bruising, the only sounds in the room was flesh meeting flesh and your breathy moans. He'd made you come so many times your legs were shaking around him as he worked you towards one more orgasm. 

You knew your neck and chest was peppered with marks from his lips as his neck and chest was marked from yours and his back was marked from your nails. You felt his hips start to falter just slightly as one hand came up to wrap around your neck just tight enough to force your eyes open and your attention onto him "I want to see you come apart one more time baby. You got one more for me sweetheart?" You nodded weakly and he smiled "Yeah? Yeah my girl got one more for me, then I'll help you clean up and we can go to the other bed for some sleep" 

You nodded again and he laughed "Did somebody learn to tell me when she needs me?" You tried to nod but he slowed his thrusts causing you to whine slightly "Words baby" "I did. Promise, I'll tell you Dean" "Good girl" he cooed before snapping his hips forward, causing a moan of his name to escape you as your orgasm washed over you before he buried himself inside of you with a final deep thrust and you felt when he came, coating inside of you. 

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

The two of you laid there like that, him still inside of you while you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. He gripped your chin gently and placed a soft kiss on your lips before saying "I mean it baby. Anything you need from me, anytime never be afraid or embarrassed to tell me" you smiled sleepily "I promise" he kissed the tip of your nose then your forehead "Cmon. I'll help you shower"

[little-diable]

Marry Me - Dean Winchester (smut)

This can be read as a part 2 to this fic - but you don’t need to read it to understand the story line. The lyrics are from the song “Joy of my Life” by Chris Stapleton. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean finally finds his confidence to ask (y/n) to marry him.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, car smut, super fluffy, slight jealousy and possessiveness

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2k words)

She's sweet to me, must be the luckiest man alive. Did I tell you, baby, you are the joy of my life?

“Isn't it funny that this car has seen all our good but also our ugly days?” (Y/n)’s voice filled the Impala as she held onto her food, taking another bite while letting her eyes wander. Dean and her were parked in the middle of nowhere, another getaway from Sam and the bunker the couple had been desperate for. 

It had been a while since Dean had taken her stargazing, letting their eyes take in the most beautiful spectacle, while Dean’s hand had found the small pocket of his jacket, touching the box of the ring he had been carrying around with himself for a while. 

“She really has, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” Dean studied his girlfriend with an unreadable expression (y/n) tried to pay no mind to as she got lost in her memories, remembering the first time she had sat in the Impala. 

“So, that’s Baby, huh?” She whispered the words while she let her fingertips trace the leather of the dark seat she sank into. A proud smirk was resting on Dean’s lips as he nodded his head, mimicking her wandering gaze. 

“My most prized possession.” The words had left Dean’s parted lips before he could stop himself, cursing himself for saying this to his new girlfriend. But all (y/n) did was laugh and shake her head at her grinning boyfriend who stared at her with excitement laced in his gaze.

“What is it, Dean?” Her voice grew lower as the words rumbled through her, letting them vibrate on her lips. He moved closer to press a kiss to her lips while his right hand found the back of her headrest, keeping himself close to her. 

“The backseats are quite comfortable, if you feel like testing them out.” Dean’s words drew a gritty laugh from (y/n) as she only nodded her head before finding her way to the backseat. Within seconds she found herself straddling Dean’s lap while their lips got lost in a rough kiss. 

“I still remember the first time you introduced me to Baby, I was sure you’d eventually end up marrying your car.” Her laughter had an addicting effect on Dean, drawing a few from him as well while he kept studying (y/n). His heart began to beat faster in his chest as his thoughts began to race. 

Perhaps this was the moment he had always been waiting for. This was the perfect spot, hidden in the dark, while Baby offered them enough comfort and distraction, away from their busy life and home. Dean took one last bite of his burger before he wiped his fingers and slowly reached for his pocket, closing his fist around the velvety black box. 

(Y/n) had her all too oblivious gaze focused on the window, once again remembered of another night they had spent in this car. 

Silence filled Baby. A thick silence that left (y/n)’s heart painfully clenching in her chest. No word had been shared between her and Dean since their fight, an escalation of jealous words and angry sensations they couldn’t shake. 

“Do you really think I’d cheat on you?” Her voice was small as she spoke the words, letting them rumble through Baby while she shuffled around on the seat to look at Dean, who was laying behind her. 

It took him a few moments to speak up as he closed eyes as if he was trying to shake the memories of what had drawn these ugly words from his parted lips. It had been foolish, a stupid mistake he had instantly regretted as tears had welled up in her eyes. 

“No, I don’t.” She was a friendly soul, always had been, but it was something Dean clearly struggled to accept, especially when she shared one of the smiles he wanted to be the only one receiving, with strangers. She was a beautiful woman, it was no surprise that men chatted her up whenever she stood alone, without Dean near, and yet it still left him spiralling, urged on by his fear of losing her. 

“You know,” (y/n) cleared her throat as she also finished her food. Slowly she turned her head back towards her boyfriend, while pondering over the words she so desperately had wanted to speak for months now. “We haven’t really talked about marriage and all these things before, but I can’t help but wonder, if that is even something you’d want.” 

Dean could tell that she was nervous about speaking these words, struggling to let them roll off her tongue while fumbling with her fingers. A shaky exhale left him before he reached for her hand with his free one, letting their fingers interlace. 

“Do you remember when we went stargazing a few weeks ago?” (Y/n) could only nod her head with a slight confusion tugging on her features. 

“I had promised myself that I’d ask you to marry me that night, but even though I was never so sure of something as I am of the love I have for you, I still fear that one day you’ll pack your bags to run from this mess we are stuck in. Sam told me that I don’t need to be scared, because you’d never do that. And I know that, deep down I really do, but perhaps it wasn’t the right moment, the right day. But now, here, with Baby,” the rest of his sentence was left hanging in the air. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she watched Dean pull his left hand from the pocket of his jacket, exposing a small box to her eyes.

“Will you marry me, (y/n)?” The words were whispered, filling the small space before a sob broke out of her. All (y/n) could do was whisper a small "Of course" as Dean opened the box to expose the most beautiful ring she has ever seen. 

Both their hands were shaking. Dean had his eyes set on her finger as he slowly slid the ring onto it – all while being unable to bite down his grin at the sight. Her hands found his cheeks to pull him in for a teeth clashing kiss, drawing desperate moans from them in unison. 

First time that I saw you, you took my breath away. I might not get to Heaven, but I walked with the angels that day

“I love you, Dean Winchester.” She mumbled the words against his lips as he held her close, letting another shaky though relieved sigh pass his lips. 

“I love you too, future Misses Winchester.” Her teary laughter rumbled through her as Dean kissed her again, deepening the kiss with his wandering tongue and his impatient hands. Her mind was racing, still trying to understand what had just happened, something she had been thinking of since meeting Dean, and yet she had never dared to have the talk with him.

God, how lucky she was, getting married to the man she never wanted to part from again, forever glued to his side as if their fate had been interlinked since their births. 

“Backseat?” His question vibrated against her lips while (y/n) choked on her moan, desperate for him to fuck her on the seats that had experienced their best and their worst moments. For a second, they parted, to find their way to the backseats, before (y/n) straddled his lap and let her hands undo his trousers, while they kissed again, and again. 

“I can’t believe I get to marry you. I must have done something right after all.” Dean’s words left her heart clenching in her chest. (Y/n) wanted to tell him that there was so much he had done right in his life, that there were so many things he should be proud of, but the words died on her tongue as his fingers disappeared beneath her dress to wander over the damp fabric of her panties. The groan leaving Dean made her buzz in excitement, unable to bite down a groan of her own. 

“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me, sweetheart.” He began to rub her pulsing bundle through the thin fabric, while she finally managed to free his hardening cock. Their eyes held contact as (y/n) spat into her hand before she began to pump him, giving them both enough courage to let go of their sounds to fill the dark Impala. 

“Dean, don’t waste any time, I want to feel you inside of me.” Her moaned words left Dean chuckling in glee, a gritty sound that made her walls clench around nothing, begging him to finally sink into her. Their eyes held contact as his tongue kissed his teeth, sinking further into the seat while his fingers pushed her panties aside. She held her dress up to offer him a view that made his cock twitch, watching her position herself while he could only stare up at her and thank his lucky stars for pushing them together. 

Both let go of a heavy moan as (y/n) sank down on his cock. She allowed herself to rest for a moment, to push her forehead against his, while both took a deep breath. Slowly she began to move, supported by Dean’s hands, who couldn’t stop his fingertips from digging into her skin. 

The sound of their bodies moving filled Baby, followed by sinful sounds they couldn’t stop from breaking through them. Both were grateful for the darkness that had wrapped them in a comforting embrace, clinging to them to hide their frames from anybody who could walk past the Impala. Stuck in their own bubble, forever interlinked.

“I always knew you were perfect for me, fuck, I can’t believe I get to marry you.” Dean’s head rolled back against the headrest to stare at his now fiancée, the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever been fortunate enough to look at. She was perfect in any and every way, crafted for him only, made to cling to his body. God, sex had never felt like that before he had met (y/n), it had never been this intense, this raw, this loving. He wouldn’t trade this for the world, forever glued to her side. 

“Dean,” (y/n) whined his name as she reached for his hand to push it closer to her pulsing bundle, needing the extra friction to push that familiar heat through her aching body. Their foreheads met, pressed together as they trembled, knowing that their highs were oh so very close. 

He couldn’t stop his hips from meeting her thrusts, trying to bury himself even deeper inside of her as she trembled in his lap. He’d fight every creature, every being for this sight. Dean would do anything to hold her like this for the rest of their lives. 

“Look at me, (y/n).” His choked words forced her eyes to meet his green ones, holding contact as she came for him. Dean’s hips began to move again, jerking upwards to fuck them through her high, only to follow her a few seconds later to imprint himself on her walls. 

“I can’t wait for the night of our wedding.” Dean panted the words that drew a laugh from (y/n). She rested her forehead on his shoulder, holding herself to him as he was still buried deep inside of her. 

“Of course this is the only thing you think of. I can’t believe I’m marrying such a horny bastard.” His hands began to tickle her, forcing a loud laugh out of (y/n) as she threw her head back, letting the sounds fill the car.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart.” 

Some may have their riches, some may have their worldly things, as long as I have you, I′ll treasure each and every day

Just take me by the hand, I am the luckiest man alive, did I tell you, baby, you are the joy of my life?

[targaryenluvs]

HIDE N SEEK’ / DEMON!DEAN WINCHESTER

Pairings: Demon!Dean Winchester x Fem!Hunter!Reader

Summary: Sam had placed you in a safe home when learning that Dean had somehow gotten away. But Dean promised you, a few games have to be played, and maybe you might just get away. Silly you, a Demon never keeps his word.

Warnings: Dark themes per usual, established relationship, chasing, taunting, use of force, threats & anger, hair pulling, threats, dacryphilia, sexual implications, vulgar language

Word count: 1.7K Words

A/N: Here it is! My first Supernatural fic, I’m so excited to write for these two! I'm still on season one so forgive me for any inaccuracies <3

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

Your heart was beating erratically, and rightfully so.

The literal demon version of your own boyfriend, Dean, was currently chasing you around your place. So much for safe home.

“The more you run, the more angry I get Y/n/n.” His voice sent chills down your spine but you knew you had to keep going. You rounded the corner and grabbed the stair case banister to haul yourself upstairs. You could hear his footsteps, loud and clear.

“I gave you a chance, remember that.”

The house that was now trapping you inside, used to be your safe haven.

“Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on Sam?!” His eyes wouldn’t meet yours, the entire time he drove. Sam’s knuckles kept wrapping around the wheel, his knuckles were white and his grip unrelenting.

You’d met Dean not long ago, whilst you were still a baby hunter. Only a year had gone by since you’d lost your best friend whilst she and her boyfriend were on a hunt. It was your first time, and when you’d found out about the supernatural world. A wrong swing, a sharp knife and the dark of night caused her to pass away that night.

You were thoroughly traumatised from losing someone you were so close to, and the job wasn’t complete yet. But Jake called in reinforcements, in the form of Sam and Dean.

From then you’d continued to keep in touch with them, mostly Dean, talking to him helped you immensely when dealing with the pain of losing someone you loved. And when you’d run into them in California, and Dean asked you out, you were jumping for joy.

Within the two weeks you’d spent with them, hunting, travelling and living, you’d never felt happier. So when Dean asked you to stay with him, to be his?

You agreed with no hesitation.

But with a sick family member, you drew back. It’d been over a month and in that time you’d missed so much. So when your family got better and they all dispersed to their rightful places, you were surprised when Sam all of a sudden came to pick you up.

And you’d wound up at your safe home. With no explanation and a lack of communication, you found yourself lonely. Dean never reached out, Sam only checked in on mornings to make sure you were okay. Sam had literally taken your phone, giving you another with only his number.

Of course you’d asked questions, but you trusted Sam. So when he told you it was for the best? You’d listened. You’d wanted more information, but not like this.

The ringing of your phone had awoken you that night, you groaned as you turned over glancing at the alarm clock to your side.

3:30am.

“Sam what—,”

“Are you okay?”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you sat up in your bed, “I’m fine, what’s up?”

“You need to check the doors. The windows— god everything. You need to make sure you’re safe. Do you have access to your weapons?”

“No, I left them in my car. Most of my weapons stash is downstairs, I only have a few handguns and knifes in the bathroom. What’s wrong Sam?”

“It’s Dean, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you Y/n. He’s not safe, he’s…” You got up from your bed, heading downstairs. You needed water if you were going to continue with this weird conversation.

You refrained from rolling your eyes, what hell is up with the dramatics? “He’s what Sam. A vampire?” You joked whilst grabbing a glass from the cupboard.

“Nope, not a vampire sweetheart.”

The glass shattered on the floor at the sound of his voice, it’d been far too long since you’d heard it.

‘Y/n? You still there?’ His voice was so close yet so far.

‘'Y/n? Is he there?" His voice was so close yet so far. Dean’s eyes were dark and black, nothing like the green you found yourself loving everyday. As if the eyes weren’t enough to tell you something was wrong, the hammer in his hand and the dark expression on his face.

Demon. 

It was the one word that seeped into your mind from Sam’s screeching through the phone. Dean’s smirk made your heart beat faster. "If I was you sweetheart, I’d get to runnin’."

So you did. 

With all the energy your drowsy body could muster, you ran past him and into the dining room before turning the corner. His taunts followed as you turned a corner, only to be met with a hard chest. “You’re making this too easy baby. How bout’ this, you hide and I seek. And if I catch you,”

You tried to pull away from him, but Dean was stronger now. “If I catch you, well you don’t wanna know.” His eyes flicked from green to black, and your heart dropped. His grip faltered and you took it as your chance to go. You ran to the back door, only to find it locked.

“Thought I told you to hide?”

“Shut up! I’m not playing!” You shouted as you ducked behind the kitchen counter, hopefully he hadn’t seen you by now.

As you peaked from behind you noticed the black boot by your foot, “You always looked best beneath me.” A wave of disgust rolled through as you grabbed onto his leg and pushed, swiping it from underneath him.

You ran back to the stairs.

“I gave you a chance, remember that.”

The words echoed through your head as you ran upstairs into your bedroom when the alarm system began blaring.

A bit late for that, you thought.

The crimson red seeped through the whole home, indicating an intruder. Shivers went up your spine at the thought of a demon chasing you, red consuming you.

You were a hunter, yes. But not emotionless, so a literal Demon chasing you through your home with the face of your boyfriend was more than enough to cloud your judgement. On one hand, all you can see is Dean. You can stare into his eyes, whether they're green or black, you can see the familiar stature that always cuddled you.

You could hear his voice, and boy was it hard to not listen.

Leaning against the door, you closed your eyes and breathed heavily in an attempt to calm yourself down. Was Sam on his way? Or were you defenceless against him?

As you calmed down, your eyes widened in terror. The bathroom door to your right was open, and led right into your room. You scrambled to your feet and rushed to the door but were knocked back down.

You were right, a Demon's much more menacing with a red glow. he was entering the bathroom with a smile on his face.

"There you are, sweetheart." He raised his arms outwards in a mock hug, those open arms were usually your safety. But now? You weren't so sure if they'd be the best place to be.

"Now I told you not to run, you can't get away. Be realistic baby." His footsteps were slow and menacing, but he hadn't entered the room yet. Your eyes flickered momentarily to the door, and an idea rushed through your mind.

Dean seemingly caught on, "Don't you dare—,"

The slamming of the door cut him off as you swiftly rose to your knees, turning the lock. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you got up with the help of your bed. "Okay, now I'm mad."

And you sure as hell were not in the mood to experience it. So you slowly tiptoed over to the bedroom door, unlocking it. The eerie silence did nothing but raise your heartbeat. Where was he?

You turned to look back at the bathroom door, you couldn't spot any shadows. Either you barricade yourself upstairs and pray for a miracle in the form of a certain Winchester, or you take your chances with the stairs and risk getting grabbed.

You had a good feeling about the stairs, and if Dean was following then you'd for sure hear him with how loud his steps were, right?

The bedroom door closed behind you as you slowly made your way to the top of the stairs. You couldn't hear anything, or see anything besides red. So you ran.

With each step your faith in getting away was renewed.

But as you made your way to the ground an arm harshly dug into your stomach as you screamed. "Told you I'd getcha." You squirmed in his grasp, clawing at the door to pull yourself away from him. "Keep moving like that and I'll crush your skull in." That got your attention, your arms dropped to your side as you stood on the ground.

"Always so good for me baby, yeah?" You shook your head as he chuckled, "You don't want to be my good girl?" His voice was hot in your ear, and his words went straight down to your--

"I'm talking to you." Dean spun you around, you were chest to chest now, his eyes bore into yours as he awaited a response. His stare was too intense so you settled for staring at the ground. He didn't like it.

His hands dug into your chin, forcing you to look up at him, "Yes or No?" Your lips inched closer to his as he grinned, "Missed me have you?" The distraction was all you needed, the hunter in you telling you to run. Dean groaned as you ran towards the door having swiftly kneed him in the groin.

As your hands fumbled with the latch, a hand twisted around your hair before yanking you back, "You bitch, you think you're slick?" You cried out as he climbed ontop of you, his eyes flashed back to black as a scowl overcame his face.

His hold never relented as he dragged you upstairs, “Please Dean!” Despite your pleading he continued to walk, your pleas seemingly driving him. “You want to be a bitch? I’ll treat you like one.” You wheezed as you made impact with bed, courtesy of Dean’s harsh push.

You turned over, trying to crawl away as his hand wrapped around your ankle, “Stop!” His chuckle was deep and his hand bruised you. You couldn’t help the tears that ran down your face, this wasn’t your Dean.

“Fuck you look pretty when you cry. Y’know, I’ve missed this.” His hands ran down your stomach, and back up your chest as you attempted to shimmy away. A hand wrapped around your hip, digging in to hold you down.

“Missed these tits too.”

Your eyes widened as his hand unbuckled his belt.

“We’ve got time to spare, right?”

[avanatural]

The Talk

Summary: Jack catches Dean and Y/N while they're being intimate. The Nephilim has a lot of questions about what he witnessed, and Dean takes it upon himself to answer at least the most important ones.

Pairing: Dean x female Reader

Category: Smut, fluff, some humor, 18+

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, mentions of non-con, getting caught during sex

A/N: This story contains smut! Do not proceed if you’re under the age of 18! Thank you to the lovely people who expressed their interest in this particular story. I hope you enjoy! Wanna be added to my Dean Winchester tag list? Send me an ask ❤️

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Y/N cried out in ecstasy. Her fingers curled around the headboard, holding on for dear life. Dean was ramming into her at a rapid pace, kneeling behind her. His skin was slapping against hers. Every push was forceful enough to take her breath away.

“How’s that feel?”, he checked in with her, bending forward, folding his body across hers, his lips grazing her cheek. His thrusts slowed down, but their force increased.

“So good,” she panted through the powerful sensations.

“You want me to keep goin’ like that?”

“Oh God, yes…”

She clenched around him, causing him to hiss loudly in pleasure. He could feel his body vibrate as a familiar intense sensation settled in his lower regions.   

Until…

“What are you doing?”

Dean and Y/N tensed violently at the sudden intrusion. Their souls took a leap out of their bodies, prompting them to abruptly still their movements. No one else was supposed to be in the bunker. Their heads snapped towards the open door of Dean’s bedroom.

None other than Lucifer’s son himself, Jack, was standing in the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him, his head tilted to the side. 

“Dammit, Jack!”, Dean roared, swiftly pulling out of Y/N and throwing his cream-colored sheets over her naked body.

Y/N’s eyes were wide, her breathing heavy. She gladly accepted the sheets to cover her body. A scorching heat lit up her cheeks. She felt like she’d just run a marathon, but with a mighty dose of embarrassment tossed into the mix.

“What are you doing?”, the Nephilim repeated, staring at the two hunters with a crease between his innocent eyes.

“Having sex!”, Dean snapped, snatching his pillow from the bed to hide his softening member.

Jack’s lips pursed as he mentally went through his vocabulary to find that particular word. When it didn’t ring a bell, he shook his head. “What does that mean?”

Y/N groaned internally and hid her burning face in her hands. This couldn’t be happening. What the hell was he doing back early? Jack and Sam were supposed to be out.

“It’s what adults do for fun,” Dean snarled, hoping that, by some miracle, Jack was going to take the hint and leave them alone.

Instead, the purest smile spread across Jack’s face. He looked even more interested in the subject now. “I like fun.”

Dean pushed his jaw forward. He was irritated, but he was also embarrassed. Y/N could tell by looking at his flushed freckled cheeks and the reddening tips of his ears. “You remember the talk we had about privacy?”, he demanded.

Lucifer’s son drew his eyebrows together. “Of course.”

“You wanna give us some of that?”, Dean barked, sarcasm dripping from his rough voice.

“Hey, Jack, I was wondering where you headed off to…”, Sam’s voice trailed off as he appeared in the doorframe. He took in the scene before him, quick to avert his gaze and clear his throat. “Jack, uh… Come on, we’ll give them some privacy.” Sam placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and steered him away from the door.

Dean groaned and let his sweaty forehead drop to Y/N’s shoulder. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered.

“But the door was open,” they could hear Jack protest down the hall.

Y/N sighed deeply, hoping that it would somehow rid her of the uneasiness that tickled her limbs. When Dean lifted his head back up and met her gaze, she was almost amused by the obvious disappointment on his face. Almost. The smile didn’t break through, but her eyes reflected her bashful internal laughter.

“It’s not funny,” Dean grumbled, frowning as he spotted the beginning of the awkward smile on her face.

The mood had definitely been killed.

“Come on…” Y/N gently patted Dean’s bare thigh. “Let’s get dressed. It’s time for lunch, anyway.”

“Dean?”, Jack asked.

The Nephilim, Dean and Sam were sat at the library table, their noses buried in books and newspapers. The earthy scent of paper wafted through the air.

“Hm?”, the older Winchester brother half-heartedly replied, raising his mug to his lips.

“Does… sex… hurt women?”

Sam gave the Nephilim a confused side-glance while Dean audibly gulped down the hot sip of coffee. “What?”

“I think you hurt Y/N,” Jack stated with an accusing tone in his voice.

Sam’s lips transformed into a tight, thin line to prevent him from laughing.

Dean sent a glare his brother’s way. He was not in the mood to give the son of Lucifer ‘the talk.’ “It’s none of your business what I do with Y/N. Capiche?”, he grumped. The hunter’s muscles tightened in his jaw as he took another sip of his coffee.

“But I don’t want you to hurt her.”

“I wasn’t hurting her,” Dean huffed, putting down his mug. He didn’t want to defend himself for what Jack had witnessed, but if someone claimed that he hurt Y/N, and that he hurt her on purpose, the hunter was bound to get offended. “Relax.”

Sam chimed in, showing mercy for his brother. “Jack, Dean would never hurt Y/N. You know that.”

“But it looked like he was.”

Dean sighed grumpily and clasped his hands on the table in front of him. “I was doin’ somethin’ she likes. Okay? That’s rule number one with sex,” he explained, lifting a single finger in the air for emphasis, “You both need to enjoy it.”

“So, it’s possible not to enjoy it?” Jack’s forehead furrowed, causing his brows to move closer together. “I thought adults do it for fun.”

“Yes, it’s possible, but that should never, ever happen,” Dean clarified, “You need to communicate, make sure you’re on the same page.”

Jack’s eyes squinted at the unfamiliar expression. “On… the same page?”

“Yeah. For example…” Dean briefly shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, unable to believe he was actually talking about this to Jack, of all people. “Uh… Y/N told me she doesn’t want me to leave hickeys on her body, so I can’t do that. Even though I’d like to.” At the thought of marking Y/N up as his, he ran his tongue across his lower lip. “I’d really, really like to…,” he muttered to himself dreamily.

Sam scoffed, chuckling slightly and shaking his head. Never in a million years could he have guessed that his older brother was going to give Satan’s son the talk one day.

Meanwhile, Jack nodded, clinging to Dean’s every word. “So, it’s about… permission,” he concluded.

“Exactly,” Dean responded, snapping his fingers and pointing one at Jack. He felt something dangerously close to pride swell in his chest as the boy drew the correct conclusion. “Bottom line is, you can only do what your partner allows you to.”

Jack nodded and let the information sink in for a second. Then, one of his eyebrows rose up and he inquired, “So, Y/N is your… partner?”

The question was a curveball to Dean, whose mouth puckered in reply. He was stunned into stammering, “Uhm, well…”

Curiously, Sam sat up straighter and watched his sibling’s reaction like a hawk.

“Yeah,” Dean said finally, shrugging his wide shoulders, which, to his surprise, suddenly felt a lot lighter.

Jack clasped his own hands on the table, copying Dean’s posture. “Are there any other rules?”

“Yeah. Like protection.” When Jack opened his mouth to ask further questions, Dean silenced him by lifting his pointer finger back in the air. “But I ain’t teachin’ you about that, kid. One lesson at a time.”

Dean got up, empty mug in hand, and headed toward the kitchen. As he entered the hallway, he almost bumped into Y/N, who was standing right there, resting against the wall. She smiled up at him, irises gleaming with joy and a little bit of mischief.  

“What’s gotten you all cheerful?”, he demanded playfully, eyebrows arching.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, grinning at him.

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. But he didn’t get to say another word when Jack’s bewildered voice suddenly rang through the library.

“Sam… What are hickeys?”

When Sam’s groan reached their ears, Dean and Y/N burst into quiet laughter, leaning forward, their heads almost bumping into each other.

That night, Y/N listened to Dean’s calming heartbeat, cuddled up against his torso. He sighed with content when she pressed her lips to his anti-possession tattoo.

“You know… I really liked how you gave Jack the talk today,” she said.

Dean’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle. “So, you were eavesdroppin’.”

“Guilty.” Y/N laughed softly for a second, smiling at the green-eyed hunter who was holding her like she was the most delicate thing in the world. “But seriously... I liked how you taught him about consent.”

His fingers traced an affectionate pattern on her hip. “Well, that's sex 101, isn’t it?”

She nodded against his skin. “It should be.”

Dean slowly brushed his fingertips across her ribs and felt her muscles contract. When he realized she was ticklish, he dragged his fingers along the same spot again. He enjoyed the sweet sounds of laughter that spilled from her mouth. He loved having her in his arms, whether they were having sex or not. She made him feel good. About his life. About himself.

“So… I’m your partner, huh?”, Y/N asked, catching his hand in hers so he would stop tickling her. She proceeded to bite her bottom lip and sneak a peek at Dean’s face while she waited for his response. So far, neither of them had brought up the question of what exactly they were to each other.

At first, she was met with complete and utter silence. That was okay. Truth be told, she had no idea what to expect. She knew they each had their own difficulties when it came to relationships. But she needed to know if Dean had told Jack the truth, or if he’d just called her his partner to appease the young Nephilim.

Then, after a few seconds, Dean gave his silent reply. The way he clenched his arm around her, squeezed her against him, and firmly kissed the crown of her head told her more than words ever could. He then transformed his response into one single word, quietly whispering it into her hair. “Yeah.”

“Hmm,” she hummed and hid her smiling face in the crook of his neck. His embrace was the most comfortable place in the entire world. She felt his chest rise and fall steadily, heard the deep breaths coming from his nose, and shut her eyes. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt at peace. “Dean?”, she asked after a few minutes, wondering if he was dozing off.

“Hm?”

“I think you still owe me an orgasm or two.”

His sleepy, spiky-haired head rose up the second she finished her sentence. He rolled on top of her body, grinning like a Cheshire cat while she giggled her heart out.

“Just two?”

“Ohh, are we feeling ambitious tonight?”, she chuckled, circling her arms around his neck.

“It’s on, sweetheart,” he rasped, molding his lips against hers in a breathtaking kiss.

Tag list: @eevvvaa @waynes-multiverse @myloversgone @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @alagalaska @libre1rose8 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @woodworthti666 @deanwanddamons @awkward-and-indecisive @snowlovespie @desimarie12 @golden-hoax @leigh70 @mimzy1994 @impalaslytherin @globetrotter28 @spnwoman @mrsjenniferwinchester @may85 @100percentserenity @tmb510 @roseblue373 @iamsapphine

[zepskies]

Big & Tall

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You steal Sam’s shirt. But that simple theft comes at a big price.

Request: Can you write something where Sam notices the reader wearing his shirt?

Song Inspo: “Look At You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 2,200

Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, thievery, kitchen shenanigans, implied smut, tinge of angst and feels.

It was an honest mistake, really.

After the latest hunt, Sam graciously offered to let you wash your clothes here in the bunker (since most of them were bloodstained). You had to pull a finished load from the dryer before you could use it, not knowing if it was Sam or Dean’s clothes you were shoving into a nearby basket.

When you later went back for your clothes in the dryer, you’d apparently grabbed one of Sam’s black undershirts in all the fabric shuffling.

An accident. Though you hadn’t realized it until you were back in the comfort of your borrowed room in the bunker, sitting on your bed and folding your laundry.

You pulled out one of those big-and-talls and took one good look—and you knew it could only fit perfectly on Sam Winchester’s extra-long torso.

A smile unconsciously drew across your face.

You knew you should just bring it over to him. His room was a mere two doors down the hall…but instead, you gave into the quiet, secret urge to fold it up and put it with the rest of your laundry, knowing full well you were going to use it from now on as a sleep shirt.

The thing was so long it reached halfway down your thighs. (AKA: the perfect length.) But you really didn’t think he would miss an old-ass undershirt like this one.

The next morning, you made sure you were dressed in some pajama pants, your most comfortable bra, and an old college shirt before you ventured out of your room and into the kitchen.

Predictably, Sam was already up and dressed for the day, making some coffee. It was early enough that Dean was likely asleep, or at least still getting himself together.

Sam turned and greeted you with a smile. “Morning.”

“Mhmm,” you nodded groggily, though you offered him a “pleasant” smile before you accepted a coffee mug from him.

Sam’s smile deepened slightly. He knew you weren’t a morning person. He sipped at his own mug while you held yours with both hands, raising it slowly to your lips. You closed your eyes at its hazelnut warmth; trust him to stock the fridge with your favorite creamer. You hummed in delight.

Sam’s gaze was warm on you too, though you didn’t realize it.

“Hey, uh…we’re running low on stuff. Want to go somewhere for breakfast?” he asked.

You met his gaze and had to stifle your smile this time.

“Sure,” you nodded. “Want to wait for Dean?”

Sam shrugged. “We can bring him something back.”

Interesting. Your smile grew, despite your best efforts.

“Okay. Let me just get dressed,” you said.

And maybe you’d put a little makeup on, fix your frizzy bedhead. Apparently you and Sam were going on a brunch date.

Not a real one though, you rolled your eyes at yourself as you trekked down the hall. You had known the Winchesters for a couple of years now, and had gone through some real scrapes together whenever they needed your help, or vice versa. They were quickly becoming part of your people. Your family.

…But never more than that, it seemed.

Your smile slowly fell before you reached your room. You just couldn’t know that Sam was staring after you, down the hall, with a similar contemplation on his face.

“Think Dean’ll crap his pants when he sees the Impala’s gone?” you remarked. You were the passenger while Sam drove. You knew he must've been savoring this, as it was one of the few times he’d ever sat in that seat.

“I left him a note,” Sam replied in amusement.

“Aw, damn,” you teased. “Here I thought we were going on Mission Impossible.”

He shook his head, but his smile kicked up at the corners. He paused when something occurred to him. 

“Hey, by the way.” He turned to you in askance. “Did you happen to see one of my shirts when you were doing laundry yesterday?”

You perked up internally, but you tried to school your features into something more nonchalant. Casual. Yeah.

“Uh, no,” you replied. Somehow, even that small lie made you feel a prickle of guilt. “What color was it?”

“Black,” he said. Good thing he was focused on pulling into the diner’s parking lot, and not on your blushing face. “Can’t seem to find it.”

You averted your gaze and bit the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t smile.

“Sorry, haven’t seen it. I’ll keep a lookout though.”

After a nice morning with Sam (you brought back a breakfast burrito for Dean), you spent the rest of the day catching up on Game of Thrones with the brothers.

It was nice to have a rare day off, even if you spent most of it trying to ignore how your thigh was resting against Sam’s. How you could feel his warmth radiating from his arm, laid behind your head on the couch, and how if you’d just leaned over a few inches, you could’ve been resting against his flannel-covered chest.

God. You’re such a girl, you inwardly lamented at yourself. Fucking c’est la vie.

At their insistence, you spent another night at the bunker while you rested up. That werewolf hunt had been particularly brutal on everyone, especially your wounded side. It was already starting to heal, but would definitely be uncomfortable while driving.

Now, ordinarily you weren’t one to let that keep you down…though it did give you an excuse to stay a little while longer.

When you all finally called it a night, you took a long, hot shower and pulled on the shirt over your underwear. It now kind of felt like contraband, but that thought also amused you. It also made you feel closer to him, in whatever small, pathetic way.

You spent the next couple of hours trying and failing to fall asleep in your room. You tried listening to music, daydreaming, even counting damn sheep for what that was worth, but your brain was wide awake. 

You blew out an irritated sigh into the darkness and silence.

And then your stomach growled. Ugh, fine!

You got up. It was late enough at night that you didn’t bother changing clothes, lest you be spotted by a wild moose. You just padded out barefooted down the hall and into the kitchen, where you raided the fridge.

Geez, Sam was right about them being low on options, you thought as you perused a damn near empty fridge. There was milk and creamer, a couple cases of beer (of course), some crumpled ketchup packets, and a half-eaten burger that already had something fuzzy growing on it.

This is just sad. You grimaced, but you stuck your head in closer to see if you could find anything in the back. If you only knew about the hot gaze on your ass.

“Midnight snack?”

The voice, though familiar, startled the shit out of you. You banged your head on the edge of the freezer door when you jumped on reflex. You cried out and your hand flew to the back of your head, just before a larger hand covered yours.

You glanced up at found Sam’s handsome face—very apologetic, but somehow silently laughing.

“Uh, sorry. You okay?” he asked.

“Y-Yeah,” you replied. You faltered a bit as you realized how close he’d gotten, staring down at you with those earnest hazel eyes. But those eyes soon dipped and took in the rest of you…clad in only a black shirt that brushed your bare thighs.

You watched it start to compute on his face, in the tilt of his head, and the subtle raise of his brows.

“Is that my shirt?” he asked.

Your lips twitched, despite your blushing embarrassment.

“No,” you replied.

His gaze flicked up to yours. He smiled a little incredulously.

He knew you were a filthy liar. But you slipped your hand from under his and crossed your arms under your breasts, leading him to drop his hand from your hair.

“It’s soft…and comfy,” you said lamely. And you wished it smelled like him.

Sam was amused, and a little surprised…and undoubtedly turned on. He couldn’t help but notice your bare legs, the smooth expanse of skin, the suggestion of curves under his shirt, and the firm peaks of your nipples through the fabric.

“Okay. You can keep it,” he said, when his gaze finally drew back up to yours. “For a price.”

Your face felt hot. Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth for a moment, but somehow you managed to answer him.

“Name it,” you said gamely. Your stance became an unspoken challenge.

Sam’s lips drew closer to a smile.

He reached for your chin and tilted your face up towards his. There was a moment of uncertainty there, as if he was giving you time to pull away, if you wanted to.

The truth was, you were holding your breath. It felt like you’d been waiting a small eternity for this exact moment.

Your arms uncrossed. Slowly you reached for him, grabbing onto the front of his blue flannel, and he bent down to you. When his lips finally touched yours, it almost short-circuited your brain. You inhaled deeply and melted a bit, raising your hand to the back of his head to keep him there.

You felt the gentle way he caressed your cheek, and later the strength in his hands when he molded them to the curve of your waist and pulled you in close. You wrapped your arms around his neck in response, and the kiss became a fierce, sloppy meeting of lips.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip and sought entrance. You welcomed him in with a wordless moan.

Your fingers slipped into his hair, nails grazing his scalp. It earned you a deep sound of pleasure from his mouth into yours. Soon enough, those same strong hands were roaming down your waist and hips, then squeezing your ass, and pressing you against the hard planes of his body. You also felt the hardening length of him against your stomach.

“Sam,” you gasped against his lips.

That seemed to pull him out of the frenzied haze. Panting for breath though he was, he broke from you, pulling away far enough to look down at you with furrowed brows. There was a question in his eyes that he still voiced.

“Too much?” he asked.

It was a loaded question, but you thought you could read them all.

Do you want this? Do you really want me? We can stop…

Your answer was simple. You pulled yourself up on your toes and claimed his lips with a devouring kiss. Sam’s eyes closed on a sharp inhale, but his hold on you tightened again. He bent down to move his hands down the back of your thighs, and he squeezed twice, wordlessly encouraging you to jump for him.

You had electricity in your veins and a warm pulsing between your thighs. In your frazzled state, you did your best to jump up, but he helped you the rest of the way. You were able to wrap your legs around his waist, though you let out a small yelp at being vaulted so high.

Now you had the rare privilege of looking down at Sam’s amused face. You smiled down at him, caressing his cheek.

“I think I want a tour of your room,” you said.

“Good,” Sam replied. Despite the care he took in how he held you, you saw the hunger in his eyes. “I could go for a midnight snack.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that. You clung to his shoulders as he carried you down the hall and into his room, where he locked the door behind him.

The man was a furnace, you discovered, after your skin was dewy and glistening against his, and the sheets laid tangled between your bare legs.

He held you to his chest while he recovered on his back. You rested there, just enjoying the sound of his heartbeat slowly coming down from its race. His fingertips traced lazy patterns up and down your naked back.

Sam had taken great pleasure in tossing the shirt along with his other clothes onto the floor. Your panties had been flung to parts unknown.

You smiled at the thought, while your nails made delicate tracks of their own across his slightly furry chest.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked you. Quiet and steady.

With a sigh, you pushed up onto your elbow on his pillow, so you could see his face. Your hand found his cheek. There his stubble pricked against your palm, and you drew your thumb tenderly across his his lower lip.

“I’m hoping you want more from this than one…very awesome night,” you confessed.

Sam smiled, reaching up to grasp your wrist gently. It was a different kind of touch, where just a few moments ago, he’d pushed your body damn near to its limits. And yet, he knew his own strength. Controlled, even in his bed.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, though his eyes gradually fell from your face. “I’ll be honest, it uh…scares me a little.”

“What does?” you asked with a frown. You waited until he looked up at you again.

“This matters to me,” he said at last. “You matter to me.”

And the people that mattered all too often got taken away from him.

Your throat constricted. Because in his wary eyes, you could almost see the thoughts that were likely plaguing his mind. Things that might’ve kept him from this night with you for so long.

In that moment, you made a decision. You lowered down to press a gentler kiss to his lips.

“Then let’s give it a try,” you said.

AN: It got a little angstier than I intended there at the end lol, but I went with it! I so hope you guys enjoy this. I love me some Sam. 💜

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[doctorbitchcrxft]

Hunted | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this, friends), mentions of infertility

Word Count: 5254

A/N: giving the people what they want in this chapter. lol. no one under 18 allowed beyond this point!!!! 

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At some point in leaving Oregan behind, Dean pulled off to the side of the road in the middle of nowhere for a break. He pulled three beers out of the cooler in the trunk and leaned against the fence next to you. 

Sam turned to his brother. “So. Last night. You want to tell me what the hell you were talking about?”

You raised a brow at Dean, interested to hear his explanation. 

“What do you mean?” the older brother questioned.

“Dean, you said you were tired of the job,” you told him. “That’d be weird enough on its own. But on top of that, you said it wasn’t just because of your dad.”

“Forget it,” Dean gruffly replied.

“No, I can't. No way,” Sam argued.

“Come on man, I thought we were all goin’ to die, you can't hold that over me,” Dean shot back.

Sam straightened his posture, shoulders tensing. “No, no, no, no. You can't pull that crap with me, man. You're talking.”

“And what if I don't?”

“Then I guess I'll just have to keep asking until you do.”

Dean tried to pick up his plucky attitude. “I don't know, man. I just think maybe we ought to… go to the Grand Canyon.”

“What?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, you know, all this driving back and forth across country, you know I've never been to the Grand Canyon? Or we could go to T.J. or Hollywood; see if we can bang Lindsey Lohan,” Dean smirked.

You rolled your eyes. “Dean, speak English, please.”

“I just think we should take a break from all this. Why do we gotta get stuck with all the responsibility, you know? Why can't we live life a little bit?” he asked. 

“Why are you saying all this?” Sam cut back in.

Dean took a deep breath before shaking his head and turning away.

Sam pulled his arm back. “No, no, no, no, Dean. You're my brother, all right? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit.”

Dean’s face contorted with emotion. “I can't. I promised.”

“Who?” you asked.

“My dad,” he replied simply. 

Sam’s face drew together. “What are you talking about?”

Dean looked down at the ground. “Right before Dad died, he told me something.” He took a deep breath before looking up at Sam. “He told me something about you.”

“What?” Sam urged. “Dean, what did he tell you?”

The older brother cast his eyes to the ground. “He said that he wanted me to watch out for you, to take care of you.”

Sam seemed to relax a bit. “He told you that a million times.”

The other Winchester shook his head, growing more upset. “No, this time was different. He said that I had to save you.”

“Save me from what?”

“He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered; and that if I couldn't, I'd—” he turned his head, beginning to tear up.

“You’d what, Dean?” Sam asked gently.

He looked back up at his little brother, tears forming in his eyes. “That I'd have to kill you. He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy.”

Sam drew in a sharp breath. “Kill me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I don't know,” Dean shook his head, voice breaking.

“I mean, he must have had some kind of reason for saying it, right? Did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go Darkside or something? What else did he say, Dean?” Sam’s head was beginning to swim; even you could tell that.

“Nothing, that's it, I swear,” Dean breathed out.

“How could you not have told me this?”

“Because it was Dad, and he begged me not to,” Dean responded simply.

Sam’s voice grew angrier. “Who cares?! Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean! You had no right to keep this from me!”

“You think I wanted this? Huh? I wish to god he'd never opened his mouth. Then I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day,” the older brother yelled right back.

Sam turned and took a few steps away, fuming. “We've just got to figure out what's going on, then, what the hell all this means.”

“We do?” Dean sighed. “I've been thinking about this, I think we should just lay low, y’know? At least for a while. It'd be safer. And that way I can make sure—”

The brunet spun back around. “What? That I don't turn evil? That I don't turn into some kind of killer?”

“Sam, he never said that,” you jumped in.

“Jeez, if you're not careful you will have to waste me one day, Dean,” Sam continued to mock.

Dean raged at his brother. “I never said that! Dammit, Sam, this whole thing is spinnin’ out of control. Alright? You're immune to some weirdo demon virus, and I don't even know what the hell anymore. And you're pissed at me, I get it. That's fine, I deserve it. But we lay low until we figure out our next move, okay?”

Sam grumbled, “Forget it.”

“Sam, please, man,” the older brother begged. His voice began to break again. “Hey, please. Just give me some time. Give me some time to think, okay? I'm begging you here, please. Please.”

You stared at Sam with bated breath, waiting for his reaction. To your relief, he finally nodded reluctantly.

***

A few hours away, you and the brothers settled on a motel to stop in for the night. You weren’t sure what Dean’s plans were; whether you’d be here for days, weeks, or a month. You began to quiet your mind for the evening only to be disturbed by a knock on the door. To your surprise, it was Dean.

“Hey,” you breathed out. You were suddenly acutely aware of the fact that you were only dressed in an oversized t-shirt and your underwear.

Wordlessly, Dean slipped past you into your room.

“Oh-kay,” you muttered, closing the door behind him. “What’s up?” you asked him. 

He stood awkwardly on the opposite side of the room from you. It was the first time since you’d met him that he wasn’t exuding confidence. “Dean, talk to me. What’s going on?”

He stayed silent, hesitating and running a hand through his hair. “Dammit, you make it so hard to talk to you,” he grumbled, beginning to pace.

“What?” you asked, taken aback. “You know you can tell me anything. I’d hope I’m pretty easy to talk to.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s—” He stopped his pacing. “I wanna tell you everything I just— I’m not good at this.”

You giggled. “Clearly.”

He deadpanned at you. 

“Seriously, Dean, spit it out.”

“Can I—” He took a deep breath. “Can I stay here tonight?” 

Your breath hitched, and you suddenly realized you hadn’t answered him yet. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” you said. He clicked on the lamp next to your bed while you turned off the other lights in the room. He crawled into your bed and lifted the covers up for you. You slid in next to him and settled in on your side, facing him. “How you holding up?” you asked. 

He blew out a puff of air. “How do you think?” he finally jested. 

You frowned sympathetically. “Dean, why didn’t you tell me? I get why you didn’t tell Sam, but… I could’ve helped you.”

“(Y/N),” he sighed. “You know I’m no good at the mushy crap.”

“I don’t think that’s it, though,” you replied. “I think you’ve had to keep shit together for too long. Now, opening up to someone feels foreign to you. And I’d stand to reason you’re worried about burdening me with that stuff.”

He looked away from you, and you could tell you were right.

“You are never burdening me. I like listening to you talk. I like being the person you can unload your crap on,” you admitted. “I care about you. You’re my best friend. I never want you to feel like you can’t talk to me.”

“It’s not that I feel like I can’t, I just— I don’t wanna get too close to you.”

Your heart clenched. “Why? You’re confusing me.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I do, I— I don’t want that to be the reason I end up losing you,” he murmured.

You shook your head. “You won’t. You are not a burden.”

“(Y/N)—” Dean sighed.

“You’re not!” you protested, putting a hand on the side of his face. “Dean, you are… so important to me. Listening to you is important to me. Let me in, please.” You stroked his cheek with you thumb.

“I’m trying,” he said, reaching up to hold your wrist. He kissed the inside of your wrist gently, savoring the moment before looking back up at you. “I promise, I’m trying. I’ve never been this honest with… anyone, I don’t think.”

You huffed a short laugh. “I’m glad you can trust me. I trust you, too. And… I’m never trying to push you to talk about shit you don’t want to. But I do want you to know, no matter how dark and scary it gets, I’m here.”

Dean nudged your nose with his. You took the opportunity to kiss him gently, the kiss quickly becoming more passionate. Dean grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, hooking your leg around his hips. He then rolled on top of you, continuing to kiss you deeply. You arched your back into him, moaning into his mouth. He ground his hardening cock into your core, and you broke the kiss suddenly.

“Wait, wait, Dean, are you sure you want this?” you asked him. 

“What?” he asked breathlessly.

“I mean, with everything going on, do you just… need to blow off some steam? Or… do you really want me?” you asked nervously.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” he urged you. 

You did.

“I want this. I want you.” 

You pulled his face back down to you as he started to grind against you again. You could feel your arousal beginning to soak through your underwear, and Dean could feel it, too. 

He smirked down at you. “That all for me?”

“Shut up,” you said, kissing him again. You broke the kiss only to take his shirt off him. He did the same to you, groaning at the sight of your exposed breasts. You moved to cover yourself, but Dean pinned your hands next to your head.

“Don’t,” he ordered. “Don’t hide from me.”

You leaned up to kiss him again, and he began to twist and pinch your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. 

“Dean,” you breathed out.

“I know, sweetheart,” he told you. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom. Are you—?”

You shook your head. “I can’t have kids,” you admitted. “Part of the, uh, side effects of being malnourished as a kid,” you laughed uncomfortably. You looked back up at Dean to find him gazing at you sadly.

“It’s okay, really,” you told him. You were telling the truth; you wouldn’t want to bring a child into this life anyway. “Now, are you gonna fuck me, or what?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled. Dean pushed his boxers down with one hand and pulled your panties to the side. You moaned at the feeling of him entering you, chest heaving from the stretch. 

“Dean, Dean, slow down,” you pleaded. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned. Dean let you adjust to his size as you ran your hands over his chest and along his back, just enjoying the feeling of touching him. Feeling him kept you grounded as he pushed completely into you. 

“God, fuck, move, please,” you rushed out breathlessly.

He complied, kissing you again as he toyed with your breasts and rocked into you. You were shocked at the speed your orgasm crept up on you, and you raked your nails up Dean’s spine. “Dee, I’m gonna—”

“I know, I know, me, too—” he said, burying his face in your shoulder. His pace became more frantic and erratic before you finally felt ropes of his cum shooting into you, sending you over the edge along with him. Dean continued to rut into you and press kisses into your neck as he steadied his breathing, and you held onto his shoulders tightly. Still inside of you, he leaned back up to kiss you.

You held either side of his face with your legs wrapped around his waist as you kissed him, relishing in the feeling of your bodies connected. When he did pull out, you moaned at the loss as he tucked himself back into his boxers and adjusted your panties. He gathered up your slick on his index and middle fingers and brought them to his lips. Your breath hitched as he kept eye contact with you while he smirked and licked his fingers clean. He then put his fingers between your lips, and his jaw dropped as you sucked them with your eyes closed in contentment. You pulled Dean’s fingers out of your mouth and kissed them gently before taking his wrist and wrapping his arm around your back.

Dean chuckled and shuffled closer to you in the bed. He held you close to him and rested his forehead against yours. “If vulnerability is gonna get me sex like that, I’ll be spillin’ my guts to you non-stop,” he joked.

You shoved his shoulder playfully and feigned offense. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he said, pulling you back against his chest. Dean laid on his back, staring up and the ceiling, and had you lying on your stomach on top of his chest, arms encircling your waist. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. 

“For what?” you asked.

“Everything.”

***

You woke up wrapped by Dean’s arms the next morning. The two of you hadn’t moved much from the position you fell asleep in; Dean securing you to his chest, and your head tucked under his chin. You sighed contentedly, snuggling more into Dean. 

The air would undoubtedly shift between you following last night’s events. You’d told him before you weren’t one for hookups, and you knew he wasn’t one to stay the night with a hookup. Being like this was new for both of you. It almost nauseated you thinking about the possible repercussions of sleeping with him, as you’d never cared as much about someone as you cared about him. He was starting to consume more and more of your heart, and you allowed him willingly. 

What scared you was the possibility of being used. You weren’t a very trusting person to begin with, and trusting someone with your heart was entirely new territory for you. You feared that one day, after Dean was over his father’s passing and possibly even tired of having you around, he would be done with you. As this thought crossed your mind, you moved to get out of bed. Dean’s arms tightened around you.

“Where you goin’?” he hummed, eyes still closed.

“Dean, I gotta pee, let me go,” you said.

“Don’t think I will,” he replied, rolling on top of you.

“Dean!” you squealed. “Let me up!” 

He began to attack your neck with kisses up to your lips as you giggled and half-heartedly fought him off you. 

You pecked him on the lips and pulled your neck back into your pillow slightly to look at him. “You’re cute. I still gotta pee.”

“Argh.” He rolled off of you dramatically and laid back on his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

When you’d done your business and brushed your teeth, you asked Dean, “What’d you tell Sam, anyway? I’m surprised he hasn’t called either of us asking where you were. Or broken down the door yet.” You sat back on the bed next to him. 

That seemed to strike a chord in him. “Yeah, now that you mention it, that is weird. I didn’t tell him I was leaving. He was knocked out when I left.”

You started to get concerned. “He should definitely be up by now, too. It’s after nine o’clock.”

You saw Dean’s breath catch in his chest with worry, and he immediately pulled on his jeans and shirt from the night before along with his shoes. He left the room as you quickly got dressed, too, brushing your hair back into a haphazard ponytail. You held your phone trying to call Sam between your shoulder and ear as you tugged on your boots. “C’mon, pick up,” you begged into the phone.

Dean returned moments later. “He’s not in the room. Dammit, Sam!”

“Hey, I’m sure he’s fine.” You weren’t. “Is the car still here?”

“Yeah. I’ve got the keys, too.”

“What the fuck,” you muttered. “Sam’s phone went to voicemail twice.”

“Shit,” Dean grumbled. “Alright, get your stuff, we’re leaving now.”

You nodded, running around your room to pack the few things you’d taken out of your bag. You beat Dean to the Impala and he sped out of the parking lot more recklessly than usual.

“Slow down, dude, we’re no good to Sam dead,” you scolded.

He didn’t respond to that. “Call Ellen, see if she’s seen him.”

“Already on it.” You pressed the phone to your ear, grateful to hear the woman respond. She told you she hadn’t seen him, but would let you know if she did. You called Bobby; got the same answer. Jo didn’t answer her phone. Sam still wasn’t answering, either.

“Just head to the Roadhouse,” you told Dean. “Ash can probably track ‘im down.”

Dean nodded wordlessly, and you could practically see his mind running a mile a minute. His shoulders were tense, brow set in a hard line, and jaw clenched. You weren’t sure how to help him at that moment, so you just sat by him silently for hours on the road. Then, Ellen called again.

“Hello?” you said. “You heard from Sam?”

“I have, but he made me promise not to tell you where he is,” she replied.

“C’mon, Ellen, please—” 

Dean took the phone from you. “Ellen? It’s Dean. Something bad could be going on here, and I swore I'd look after that kid.” A moment or so later, the tension released from his body as he breathed out, “Thanks.” He clicked the phone shut and handed it back to you. 

“Lafayette, Indiana,” was all he said for the rest of the drive.

***

When you found Sam, he was at the Blue Rose Motel in a room. You and Dean could see him through the window of his room. 

“Oh, thank god you're okay,” Dean breathed out.

Sam moved aside, allowing you and Dean to see the tiny brunette in the room with him.

“Oh, you're better than okay. Sam, you sly dog!” Dean chuckled.

“Dean, I don’t know Sam would drive six hundred miles for pussy,” you quipped. “I think something else is going on here.”

Suddenly, something caught your eye from across the road. It was Gordon on the rooftop of the building, hunched over a sniper rifle he was loading.

“Dean, look,” you rushed out. “We gotta go!”

You sprinted across the street and up the fire escape of the building just as Gordon took a shot. The window on Sam’s room shattered, and Dean jumped Gordon from behind just as he was about to take another shot.

“Gordon!” He kicked Gordon down, hard, pinning him by his collar. He hit him over and over again. “You do that to my brother, I'll kill you!”

You moved to grab the rifle from Gordon, but he smashed the butt of the rifle into your head. It was lights out after that moment.

***

When you came to, you groaned in pain at the pounding in your head. Not quite aware of what was going on yet, you tried to raise a hand to your head only to be stopped by the binds around your wrists. You jerked in your chair and realized your ankles were bound, too. 

‘Hey, sweetie,” Gordon monotoned. “Nice of you to join us.”

“You son of a bitch,” you hissed, staring up at him through your eyebrows. 

Without missing a beat, he back slapped you. “That's my momma you're talking about.”

Your head still jerked to the side from the slap, you flexed your jaw painfully. “Where’s Dean?” you asked.

As if on cue, you heard him in the next room. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” he called.

“Isn’t that sweet,” Gordon droned. 

“What’s your plan, here?” you questioned, ignoring his comment. “Gonna get back at us for leaving you tied up in your own mess for three days?”

“What, you think this is revenge?” His monotone almost broke as he chuckled humorlessly. “This isn't personal. I'm not a killer, sweetie. I'm a hunter. And your boyfriend’s brother is fair game.” Gordon slammed a knife from his canvas duffel bag into its sheath.

“Sam? Why?” you asked.

“Was huntin’ a demon down in Louisiana. She told me all about Sam’s visions. Apparently, a bunch of psychic freaks are supposed to help demons take over the world. And the real kick in the ass: she told me I know one of them. Our very own Sammy Winchester,” he said.

“Are you done monologuing, or…?”

He scoffed. “You keep that attitude up. I know it’s just a front. I gotta say, I’m kinda excited to see you and Dean break when Sam goes up in smoke.”

“So, what? You’re gonna use us to lure Sam here, kill him; then what about us? You don’t think we’ll hunt you down to hell and back?” you hissed.

“I do. That’s why I’m gonna kill you, too.”

You snorted. 

“Something funny?”

You shook your head. “Nah, it’s just, you think you’re so good. Do you really believe you’re gonna take us out that easy?” 

He considered for a moment. “Honestly? Yeah. There were two of y’all, and I still got the jump on you.”

You couldn’t argue with him there. “Call it a weak moment,” you grumbled.

He snickered and came up behind you, forcing a tie into your mouth. He caught a bit of your hair in the knot as he secured it around your head. “See you on the flipside, sweetheart.” Gordon left the room and shut the door behind him. 

You immediately set to work trying to loosen the ropes enough to be able to grab the knife sheathed in your sleeve. 

‘Fuck, he tied this shit well,’ you thought. You continued struggling, tears beginning to pool in your eyes. 

You heard Dean and Gordon talking in the next room, but couldn’t quite make out what was being said. You took in the dilapidated room around you filled with debris, and noticed one of the loose wooden boards was just around level with the arms of your chair. You began propelling yourself toward it by making the chair hop in the board’s direction. You paused when you heard footsteps approaching the door to your room. The door creaked open to reveal Gordon, and you stared him down angrily. 

“All good in here?” he asked you accusingly.

You couldn’t respond due to the gag tightly secured around your mouth. 

“Good. Sammy should be here soon,” he said. He loaded a mag into his rifle and turned to leave the room. You could hear Gordon pacing the floor just outside the room and decided not to move until he left. 

Unfortunately, that moment never came. The next thing you heard was a bomb going off. You screamed, muffled by the gag, and immediately began moving back toward your original goal to help you get loose. A second grenade sounded, and you began to sob. You stuck a jutting-out part of the loose board under the rope around your wrist and tugged against it, allowing you room to pull your wrist out. You dragged your hand along the splintered wood, ignoring the scratching and pricks to fully free your wrist. You quickly went to work pulling the knife out of your sleeve to free your other wrist and ankles. You burst through the door and pulled the gag over your head, yelling, “Dean!”

You heard his muffled sobs from beyond the door across from you. You hurried to him, hearing struggling from Gordon in the next room. And… Sam? You were relieved to hear his voice and began cutting Dean free of his binds. Dean ripped his gag off with his free hand and ran a hand over your hair as you finished freeing him.

You looked back up at him. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “You?” He gingerly touched the wound on your forehead from where the butt of Gordon’s rifle hit you. 

“Yeah,” you said, just as Sam walked into the room.

“I’m fine, too, guys, thanks,” he joked.

“Sam!” You ran to him and threw your arms around him. 

“Hey, (Y/N/N).”

Dean was next to hug Sam. He frantically checked his baby brother for injuries. Sam clapped a hand to Dean’s shoulder to let him know he was okay. With that, Dean wheeled around in the direction Sam had come from. “That son of a—”

Sam stopped him. “Dean. No.”

Dean shrugged his brother off him. “I let him live once. I'm not making the same mistake twice.”

“Trust me. Gordon's taken care of. Come on,” Sam jerked his head at the door, pulling Dean by his jacket.

Sam staggered down the steps of the cabin, and you caught him as he almost stumbled down the last one.

“You okay, kid?” you asked.

He nodded, grimacing. “Yeah, he got in a few good hits, though.”

You looked at him sadly.

“Trust me, (Y/N), I’m okay.”

Suddenly, a shot fired off whizzing right past your head. “Run!” you yelled, scrambling across the street to find cover in the woods. 

“You call this taken care of?” Dean grunted at his brother. 

Sam grabbed you and Dean and pulled you into the ditch next to him.

“What the hell are we doing?” Dean questioned.

“Just trust me on this, alright?”

Your breath quickened as Gordon continued to approach your hiding spot with his gun cocked. However, to your relief, cops emerged from their cars with sirens blazing, cornering Gordon.

“Drop your weapons! Get down on your knees!” one cop yelled, pointing his gun at Gordon.

You grinned at Sam as Gordon was apprehended, glaring in your direction. The cops pulled out the weapons rack in the back of Gordon’s car.

“Anonymous tip,” Sam whispered.

“You're a fine upstanding citizen, Sam,” Dean commented. 

You giggled, leaning against Sam to hug him as you continued watching Gordon’s arrest. “Only thing that would make this better would be some popcorn.”

***

You called Ellen to explain the situation to her. “Apparently, Gordon was hunting Sam,” you told her. “And he apparently had some Roadhouse connections.” You were fuming when Dean told you that, but also refused to let Dean rip into that poor woman. You decided to handle the issue yourself. 

“And you honestly think that it was me? Or Ash? Or Jo? No way,” she said.

“Well, who else knows about Sam?” you questioned accusingly. “I mean, you must have been talking to somebody.”

“Hey, you can say a lot of things about us. But we are not disloyal. And we're not stupid. We haven't breathed a word of this,” she replied sharply.

“Are you sure? I wanna trust you, but this guy almost killed us. I need to know the truth,” you told her.

“(Y/N), sweetie, this roadhouse is full of other hunters. They're all smart. They're good trackers. Each of them with their own patterns and connections. Look, hell, I could name twelve of them right now that are capable of putting this together.” She sighed. “I am sorry about what happened. But I can't control these people. Or what they choose to believe.”

“Okay,” you said finally. “Thanks, Ellen.” You hung up the phone and sat back against the passenger’s side door of the Impala as Dean continued driving. Sam had been on a phone call of his own, but apparently, he’d been sent to voicemail.

“Hey, Ava, it's Sam. Again. Um, call me when you get this, just want to make sure you got home okay. Alright. Bye.”

“Everything alright?” Dean asked his younger brother. 

“Yeah, I hope so.”

“Well, Gordon should be reaching for the soap for the next few years at least,” the older brother chuckled.

“Yeah. If they pin Scott Carey's murder on him.”

A potentially unfortunate thought crossed your mind. “And if he doesn't bust out.”

A silence settled over the car.

“Dude, you ever take off like that again—” Dean warned.

Sam snorted. “What? You’ll kill me?”

“That is so not funny,” you chimed in.

“Alright, alright. So where to next, then?” Sam asked.

Dean smirked. “One word: Amsterdam.”

“Dean!” you and Sam exclaimed.

“C’mon, guys, I hear the coffeeshops don't even serve coffee,” he snickered.

“I'm not just gonna ditch the job,” Sam protested.

“Honestly, Dean, me neither,” you said.

Dean shook his head. “Fuck the job. Fuck it. I'm sick of the job anyway. I mean, we don't get paid, we don't get thanked. The only thing we get's bad luck.”

“Well, come on, dude, you're a hunter. I mean, it's what you were meant to do,” the younger brother said.

“Ah, I wasn't meant to do anything, I don't believe in that destiny crap.”

Sam tilted his head. “You mean you don't believe in my destiny.”

“Yeah, whatever,” the older brother mumbled.

“Look, Dean, I've tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California and look what happened. You can't run from this. And you can't protect me,” Sam continued.

Dean looked at him significantly. “I can try.”

Sam’s puppy dog eyes stared back at him. “Thanks for that,” he said quietly. “Look, Dean, I'm gonna keep hunting. I mean, whatever is coming, I'm taking it head-on, so if you really want to watch my back, then I guess you're gonna have to stick around.”

“Bitch,” Dean grumbled.

“Jerk.”

You giggled at the brothers. “You guys are breakin’ my heart up there. You gonna hug or somethin’?”

“Shut up, (Y/N),” both brothers chided.

You laughed again.

Dean noticed Sam fiddling with his phone again. “You calling that Ava girl again? You sweet on her or something?”

“She's engaged, Dean.”

“So? What's the point in saving the world if you can't get a little nookie once in a while, huh?”

“Ew, Dean,” you grimaced.

Dean smirked lasciviously at you in the rearview mirror. You rolled your eyes, holding back a smile.

Sam hung up the phone, scowling in thought.

“What?” you asked.

He sighed. “Just a feeling. How far is it to Peoria?”

***

When you arrived— well, broke and entered— at Ava Wilson’s house, you were horrified by what you found. A man was lying face-up on the bed, clothes, sheets, and hair soaked in blood.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out.

“Hey,” Dean called from the window sill. “Sulfur. Demon's been here.”

You caught sight of something on the floor and picked it up. It was an engagement ring. You held it up to Sam.

His reply was one whispered word: “Ava.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[vigilante-3073]

Figure You Out

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

PART 1

Summary: Dean and Sam run into another hunter while working a case.

TW: Mentions of blood, injuries, death and murder. Dean's nicknames.

Concord, New Hampshire

Dean and Sam made their way through the woods towards a cabin owned by one of many werewolves in the area. The steadily rising number of mangled corpses turning up around town drew their attention quickly. The bodies were piling up and the situation needed to be dealt with.

Dean and Sam approached the house, peering at the large cabin from the treeline. The door was wide open and the front window was shattered, broken glass was scattered across the grass. Dean and Sam pulled out their guns as they slowly approached the cabin.

"Is that blood?" Sam asked quietly, shining his flashlight at the stairs.

"I think someone might've beat us to the punch here, Sammy," Dean said, approaching the treeline on the opposite side of the cabin.

Sam turned to see his brother standing over a man's body that was laying face down near the trees. The man's wide eyes stared off into nothingness, the ground around him slowly becoming saturated with his blood. The man had multiple bullet wounds in his back, no doubt silver bullets were used.

Dean and Sam looked up as they heard some rustling from inside the house. Dean quickly made his way over to his brother as they approached the house.

The pair climbed the stairs quietly, shining their lights inside the cabin. A woman held up her hand, blocking the light from her eyes.

"Shut those goddamn lights off or shine them somewhere useful," She snapped.

The woman huffed when neither of the boys moved, "I'm a friendly, assholes," She said.

Sam lowered his gun and flashlight, pointing them at the floor, "Dean, she's good," Sam said quietly.

Dean reluctantly brought down his gun and light. The woman lowered her hand from her blood splattered face, leaning back against the edge of the countertop with a shake of her head.

A small lantern was sitting on the counter beside her, casting a dim yellow glow across her injured side. A handgun, an open bottle of alcohol and the contents of a first aid kit were strewn across the countertop.

Dean whistled, "They got you good, huh?" He stated, shining his light at the claw marks slashed into her side.

"No shit," She huffed, pushing the needle through her torn flesh.

"Need a hand?" Sam asked.

"I'm good, thanks," The woman muttered, focused on closing her wound.

"Here, let me at least give you some better lighting," Sam said, changing positions to shine the light from a different direction.

"Thanks," She said.

"No problem," Sam nodded.

"I'm gonna check the place out," Dean said.

"It's clean," She replied, tying off a stitch.

"Not that I don't trust you, sweetheart, but I don't," Dean smirked.

"Asshole," She muttered.

Dean moved further the cabin, peering into the rooms as he passed them. He couldn't deny that he was slightly impressed by the sheer amount of werewolves she had managed to take down alone.

Dean made his way back out to the kitchen area as the woman grabbed the bottle from the countertop. She seethed as she poured some of the alcohol over her stitched up wounds before patting the area dry with clean gauze.

"You take all these wolves out by yourself?" Dean asked.

"Why?" The woman asked.

"Just wondering," Dean shrugged.

"Sure you are," She scoffed.

"Seems like a big job, is all," Dean said.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," The woman stated, pressing a large surgical pad over her stitches before wrapping gauze around her waist to hold it in place.

She cut through the gauze, tucking it in place before lowering her torn shirt and packing up her first aid kit.

"I'm Sam and that's my brother, Dean, by the way," Sam said.

She paused, "Winchester?" She questioned.

"You heard of us?" Dean asked, glancing over at his brother.

"Nope," She stated, closing the lid of her first aid kit. The woman grabbed her gun and first aid kit from the countertop, "Have a good night, boys," She said.

"You're not gonna tell us your name?" Dean questioned.

She smiled, "I'm sure this isn't the last time we'll be seeing eachother, Dean," She replied.

...

Louisville, Kentucky

Dean and Sam continued to run into the woman on and off through the years. They came to learn that her name was Y/N and that she always worked alone. She moved from job to job quickly and it seemed like every time they would go to start a hunt, she would have already finished it.

Y/N absolutely infuriated Dean. He and Sam would spend hours on their research and travelling to the location just to get there and have everything done already.

They hadn't seen her in a while and the brothers were beginning to wonder if something had happened to her. It wouldn't be unexpected in their line of work.

Dean and Sam made their way into a local bar to spend some time going over the details of a possible witch related case. They had barely sat down at the bar for a minute before the bartender set two beers on the bartop.

"Sorry, we didn't order these," Sam said.

"They're from the woman at the end of the bar," The bartender said, pointing off to the right.

Dean turned to look, "Son of a bitch," He muttered, a scowl quickly replacing his previous smile.

Y/N raised her beer with a smile, Sam laughed and raised the beer in thanks. Dean swiped his beer off the bartop and hopped off his stool before making his way over to her.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Same thing as you, only better," She smirked, taking a sip of her drink.

"I'm just gonna save myself some time and ask if there's even still a hunt in this town?" He questioned.

Y/N sucked in a breath through her teeth, "No, just finished a few hours ago, actually. But I really appreciate you guys coming out," She said.

"Yeah, whatever. Thanks for the beer," Dean said grumpily before returning to his spot next to Sam.

"Well, that was-," "Shut up," Dean snapped, taking a sip from his beer. Sam shook his head with a smile, always managing to get a kick out of it when his brother was bested by Y/N.

...

Seattle, Washington

Dean and Sam made their way into an abandoned warehouse with packs of gear slung on their backs. This area had recently become a hotspot for demon activity in the last few days. The missing persons reports had also began to rise and there definitely had to be something big going on.

Sam and Dean scanned the dark warehouse as they made their way inside. Sam hesitated, "Dean, is that-?" He started, shining his flashlight at something across the room.

Dean looked up, following the beam of his brother's flashlight, "Oh my god," He muttered, racing across the warehouse and kneeling down in front of her.

Y/N's body was slumped against the wall, she had been beaten and there was a rusted pipe stabbed into her stomach.

Her clothes were drenched in blood, Dean held in his hand in front of her face, a finite amount of tension leaving his shoulders as a soft puff of air hit his skin.

"She's breathing," He stated.

Dean pulled back slightly, cupping her cheeks in his hands, "Hey, sweetheart, can you hear me? Open your eyes, Y/N," Dean said.

Her eyes fluttered open, "Dean," She mumbled. Blood splattered onto her lips as she coughed, dripping down her chin.

"We're gonna get you some help, okay?" He assured.

"I don't wanna die," Y/N whimpered.

"We're not gonna let that happen, alright?" Dean said, she nodded slightly.

"Good, now I need you to be as stubborn about not dying as you are about everything. Shouldn't be a hard thing for you to do, right?" Dean said with a small, reassuring smile.

"You're an ass," Y/N mumbled.

"You got me there, but I need you to listen to me for a second, okay? I gotta pick you up and I can tell you right now that it's not gonna feel good," He said.

"I know," She nodded.

Dean lifted her arm up to wrap around his neck before sliding his arms underneath her body.

"On the count of three. One... Two... Three," He counted before lifting her up into his arms. Y/N cried out in pain at the shift, fingernails digging into the skin on the back of Dean's neck.

"We gotta get her to a hospital. You drive," Dean said, Sam nodded.

They rushed her out of the warehouse, carefully setting her in the backseat of the Impala with her body propped up against Dean's chest.

Sam hopped into the driver's seat, taking the keys from his brother before starting the car and speeding off in the direction of the hospital. Y/N coughed up more blood, gradually becoming less responsive as Sam drove.

"Don't let me die," She pleaded softly. It was the first time Dean had heard her be this vulnerable and it terrified him.

"I won't... Trust me, sweetheart, you're gonna be back to annoying the crap out of everyone you've ever met in no time," Dean assured.

Y/N was only able to stay awake for a few more minutes before finally losing consciousness.

Y/N was rushed into surgery as soon as they arrived at the hospital. Dean told them that she was his wife and had been involved in a mugging. He could tell that they didn't believe him, but it didn't matter. As long as she was getting the care she needed.

"We're staying... It's non-negotiable, alright?" Dean said firmly, looking over at his brother.

"Glad we're on the same page," Sam nodded.

...

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, squinting in the bright light as her head pounded. She turned her head to see Dean lounging in the chair beside her bed as he lazily flipped through a magazine.

She gulped before speaking, "How long was I out?" Y/N questioned.

He looked up at her, "Three days," He stated, looking back down at the glossy pages.

"Shouldn't you be three states over by now?" Y/N asked.

"Well, I rescued a damsel in distress who got herself skewered by a metal pipe. I thought sticking around to make sure she didn't die would be the gentlemanly thing to do," Dean smiled.

"Sounds like a badass," Y/N muttered.

"She is," Dean agreed, eyes flickering up from his magazine to meet her's.

Y/N looked away, eyes scanning the small hospital room and quickly noticing the absence of the younger Winchester, "Is Sam around?" She asked.

"He went to get coffee a few minutes ago," Dean said. Y/N nodded, shifting with a grimace as pain radiated over her entire body, obviously numbed by medication to some degree.

"How are you feeling?" Dean questioned.

"Like I got my ass handed to me," Y/N sighed.

He huffed a laugh, "You kinda did," Dean nodded.

"Yeah," She huffed, leaning back against the pillows, "Did they say how long they want to keep me here for?" Y/N asked.

"At least another week," Dean said.

"Screw that," She scoffed

"We'll help you bust out in a few days," Dean said, flipping the page of his magazine.

Y/N stared at him for a second, "Why are you still here, Dean?" She asked.

"I already told you-" "Cut the bullshit," She snapped.

"I was worried about you," Dean said.

"You have to give a shit about someone to be worried, Dean," She said. The older Winchester remained silent, staring at her expectantly.

"Well, I'll be damned... You like me!" She smirked.

"I never said that," Dean stated.

"You might as well have," She teased.

"Just go back to sleep," He said, shaking his head as he returned to reading his magazine.

"I'm not gonna let this go, Dean," Y/N stated.

"Yeah, I figured," He sighed, flipping the page.

....

PART 2

[jaredpadonlyyyy]

ANGRY SEX

SMUTTY, SMUT, SMUT!

FIRST ONE ON HERE!

YOU AND SAM HAVE ANGRY MAKEUP SEX

You and your boyfriend Sam have been arguing since the moment the case started. Dean, seriously he was starting to get annoyed with the fact that the arguing was getting louder. “Oh my god! Sam!” You groaned as Sam scoffed rolling his eyes. Dean huffed as he got up and grabbed his jacket from behind the chair he had hung it up on. “Okay, you know what?” He said as she puts on his jacket. “I’m going to the bar, have a few drinks maybe a hook up. When I come back you both better have made up.” He told them as he opened the door to the room and left shaking his head at the couple, Sam sighed looking at his girlfriend. “See Dean, left.” He told you making you scoff as you crossed your arms over your chest mad.

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” You asked him as she glares at him. “You know what fuck you, I’m going to take a shower.” You said turning to walk over to the bathroom ignoring Sam as the slammed the door close behind you and started to get undressed and turning on the water. After it got to the desired temperature, you got inside the shower letting the water hit your body making you relax. It’s been one hell of a week. Nothing but arguments between you and Sam and it was draining her so much with all the fights between both of you. “Fucking shit.” You said.

You rubbed your hands through your face closing your eyes as you had to say sorry to him as you didn’t want to argue with him anymore. But you were still so angry with him. Benching you at the last minute and then almost getting himself and his brother killed had her livid. You jumped as you felt Sam push you against the wall. Your face on the colt tile making you gasp as Sam held your face to the wall making you frown. “Sam, what the fuck?” You asked him as he leaned over nibbling at your ear making you softly moan at the feeling of his mouth on your sweet spot.

Then you opened your eyes and turned around and pushed him away from you as you turned around to finish taking a shower. “Get up.” You told him as he just scoffed. He grabbed you from your waist and he pushed you against the cold wall again as he came closer to you and you felt his hard dick rubbing on you. He kissed and bites down on your shoulders making you gasp as it felt good but it hurt at the same time. “Sam.” You softly moaned as his hands reached over to your clit and started to slowly rub it making you let out a moan as he drew circles on it.

Sam, Spreads your legs more open as his fingers go into your entrance putting two inside as he mercilessly goes in and out of you making you a screaming mess of moans as your legs quivered and buckled at the fact that he was hitting and curling his fingers on your G-Stop. Sam felt your walls clench on his fingers and he knew you were close to your high.

“Ooh my god!” You squealed as you closed your legs shaking as you came on his fingers. “Sam, ah, aah!” Your mouth falling open as your head leans back on his shoulders as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Don’t stop!” You told him as your pussy walls flutter against his thick long fingers. After you came down from your high. You turned around and jumped into his arms wrapping your legs around his waist as you angrily kissed him. He got out the shower with you and walked over to the bed. Both of you didn’t care if you were wet. He tossed you on the bed and you gasped as you bounced a few times making you bite your lips as you looked up the Winchester man.

Sam grabbed your legs bringing you to the edge of the bed your legs spreading giving him a pretty view of your pretty pink wet pussy. Sam’s fingers grazed your wet folds making you groan as you threw your head back, your leg shaking a bit as your toes curled. “Sam, ah.” You moaned as his finger then teased your entrance hole. “Sam, please.” You begged the Winchester man as he looked at how desperate you looked. “You want me to fuck you don’t you?” He said as he slowly slipped a finger inside of you as you gasped. “Sam, oh fuck.” You moaned your eyes roll to the back of your head as you spread your legs more.

Sam, curls his finger as it hits your G-Spot making you moan louder. “Moan louder.” He said as he adds another longer finger. He didn’t let you adjust to his fingers, putting his hand on your lower stomach and started to mercilessly finger you. “Ah!” Your back arched as he kept on hitting your sweet spot his teeth gritting as he looked at your coming undone.

Breathing heavily, you slumped onto the bed your eyes heavy lidded a satisfying smile on your face. But Sam wasn’t done with you. You looked at the hunter as he grabbed his dick and started to pump it a few times groaning as his fingers teased your swollen bundle of nerves, making you whimper at the feeling.

Sam bent his legs grabbing your hips and lining himself at your entrance and slammed into you making you gasp so loud as your eyes opened wide as your jaw dropped open as the head of his dick hits your sweet spot. “Oh god!” You screamed as he didn’t let you adjust to him and slammed himself into you at a fast pace making you a screaming, moaning mess. “Sam! Sam! Ah!” Your shaking hand reached over to his fit stomach trying to push him away as your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pure pleasure, the way his head would hit your sweet spot.

Sam grabbed both of your hips buckling your hips in the air as your moans became really loud. Sam grits his teeth as he grunts at the feeling of being inside you. “Fuck, you feel so tight.” He gritted as his eyes closed. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!” You squealed as both your legs shook. Your second orgasm about to hit you hard. “You feel so g-good, fuck.” Sam could feel his dick twitching meaning he was closer to his orgasm. “Cum for me, baby.” You begged the hunter.

You wrapped your legs around his waist bringing him down onto you as you flipped him on his back and started rolling your hips fast, both moaning loud and groaning, and grunting. “Not yet.” You told him as you supported yourself on his chest and started to bounce on him up and down making him grit his teeth and his legs shake as he held back for you to finish. “Now!” You moaned. “Aah!” You threw your head back shaking uncontrollably your walls flutter around him. Sam gasped. “Aargh!” Sam moaned as he filled your pussy. Sam’s dick twitched as he came undone inside of you keeping you still as he finished.

Slumping and letting go of your hips you fell on top of him. Sam, still feeling the aftershocks of his release as he twitched gripping the sheets hard in a fist. “Fuck.” Sam whispered as his hazel eyes closed. “That was amazing.” You told him as you rolled off of him. Both sweaty as he opened his eyes and looked over at you. “I guess we made up.” You both laughed as you turned your body to face him in a loving smile.

“I love you, Sam Winchester.” You whispered as he softly smiled at you. “I love you too.” He said as you went over into his arms hearing his fast heartbeat.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hey Jude

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: based off of 12x11, but you lose your memory instead of Dean.

You cried out in pain and surprise as the witch blew a strange dark powder into your face and you staggered back into the wall.

“Hey!” Dean turned suddenly when he heard your distress, and he lifted his gun and fired off three rounds of witch-killing bullets into the woman that hurt his little sister.

“You ok?” Sam asked, helping you straighten up and glancing down at the witch to make sure she was dead.

“Fine.” You shook yourself and did a once over—no extra limbs, no pain, nothing. “I’m fine. The witch is dead, so whatever she threw at me won’t work.”

“We should get going,” Dean said. “If you’re sure you’re ok.”

“I’m sure.”

…

“This place isn’t half bad,” you spoke up as the Impala pulled into a motel. Your brows drew together in confusion as Dean pulled up in front of a room. “Don’t we need to check in?”

“We’ve…been here for two days,” Sam said, turning in his seat and frowning at you. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh…nothing,” you mumbled shyly, suddenly both confused and embarrassed. Why didn’t you remember? “Never mind.”

“I’m gonna give Rowena a call,” Sam said as the three of you entered your motel room. “She said there was a whole coven here, but we’ve only taken out two witches—maybe she can help us track down the rest.”

“Who?” You asked, trying to wrap your brain around the name, familiar yet somehow foreign—was it another hunter?

“Rowena…” Dean said, seemingly baffled by your question. “Red head witch? Irish, or Scottish, or whatever?” Dean goggled at you, but you just stared back blankly. “Seriously, are you joking?”

“No…” you were confused. Clearly your brothers couldn’t know this “Rowena” too well, otherwise you would remember her. So why did Dean care so much if you did? “Am I supposed to know her?”

“We saw her just last week,” Sam said, watching you carefully. “You know, Crowley’s mother?”

“Crowley?” This name felt more familiar to you, but still you couldn’t quite grasp it. “Crowley…” you mumbled again, as if repeating it would somehow bring a face to mind.

“Now I know you’re kidding,” Dean scoffed, although he didn’t look convinced.

“I don’t understand,” you said, looking from Sam to Dean and back again.

“You know Crowley,” Sam said. “You know Rowena, too. Why can’t—“ Sam’s eyes widened suddenly in horror. “That…that stuff the witch threw at you.”

“You mean Rowena?” You remembered that Sam—or was it Dean?—has just said that Rowena was a witch.

“What? No,” Dean said to you before turning to Sam. “What about it? You think maybe it messed with her memory? Made her forget about witches, or something?”

“That doesn’t explain why she forgot Crowley,” Sam countered. “Maybe it’s made her forget the supernatural world.”

“Supernatural,” you spoke up, desperate to prove that you hadn’t forgotten. “Like ghosts. We hunt ghosts. I haven’t forgotten, see?”

Dean’s brows crinkled in confusion.

“Then I don’t understand…”

“Let’s call Rowena,” Sam suggested. “She’ll know what this is.”

…

“Oh dear,” Rowena’s sigh of disappointment got the attention of the Winchester brothers; however, you were distracted playing with Dean’s gun on his bed.

“What is it?” Dean demanded.

“It’s definitely a memory spell.” Rowena sighed again. “This spell…it will make her memory fade piece by piece, until she can’t remember anything.”

“Anything?” Sam asked.

“Anything. Not you, not even herself. Soon enough she’ll forget how to eat, how to…how to breathe. And then…” Rowena let her voice trail off, her point having been made.

“Ok, then fix it,” Dean insisted.

“It’s not that simple. I need the grimoire—the spell book used to make that powder—if I’m going to be able to undo it.”

“And how are we supposed to find that?” Dean growled.

“It’ll be with the rest of the coven,” Rowena said confidently. “You said you only got two witches, right? A coven must be at least three. Any remaining will have the grimoire.”

“Is this thing loaded?” Dean whirled around to see you pointing his gun straight up at your own eye.

“Hey, hey!” He yelled, rushing to you and yanking the gun from your hands. “That is not a toy!”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your gaze going from Dean to Rowena. “You’re our witch friend, right?”

“I…suppose,” Rowena said slowly.

“Cool!” You exclaimed, jumping off Dean’s bed and going straight for Rowena’s bag. “Is this your witch bag? Do you have cool stuff in here?”

“Hey now!” Rowena grabbed your arms and pulled them out of her bag. “Stay out of that, you’ll set off a curse or something!” Rowena took one look at your pouting face and sighed, reaching into her bag. “Here,” she said, coming out with a voodoo doll. “Play with this.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt someone?” Dean spoke up.

“She’s fine,” Rowena insisted, waving her hand dismissively as you returned to Dean’s bed, examining the doll with a grin. “Now, we need to find that coven.”

…

“We can’t just leave her here alone,” Sam hissed as Dean packed his bag for the hunt.

“Well we’re not going to take her with us,” Dean countered.

“Are you going somewhere?” You spoke up suddenly.

“We’ve gotta take out that witch,” Dean said.

“What witch?” You asked. The brothers ignored you.

“Look, she’ll be fine for just a few hours,” Dean told Sam. “And when we’re back, Rowena can break the curse.”

“Whose curse?” You asked. “Are you cursed?”

“Alright. Let’s go.” Sam sighed.

He and Dean headed for the door, but both stopped when you grabbed onto Sam’s arm.

“We’ll be back soon,” he promised.

“Don’t,” you pleaded. “Please don’t. I’m—I’m forgetting everything…and I don’t want to forget you. If you go, I’ll forget.”

“Hey, that’s not gonna happen,” Dean spoke up. “We’re gonna break this curse, and you’ll be ok.”

You still looked scared and unconvinced, so Dean continued.

“I want you to do something for me. Just keep repeating the most important things to yourself—it’ll help.”

“Ok…” you said slowly, then froze as you wondered where to start.

“Start small,” Dean instructed.

“My…my name is Y/N.” You glanced at Dean, then Sam. “Sam and Dean are my brothers. Rowena…is our witch friend. Castiel is our angel friend. My dad is John Winchester.”

“You’re doing great,” Sam insisted. “If you keep doing that, you won’t forget us.”

You didn’t think that that was how the curse worked, but you couldn’t honestly remember. You would have to take De—no, Sam’s—word for it.

“Are you sure?” Your voice faded to a whisper as Sam and Dean walked out the door before you had even started the question. You took a deep breathe, steeling yourself. “Ok. My name…my name is Y/N Winchester…”

…

“Well that was a bust,” Dean groaned as he pulled the Impala back into the motel. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just head to the next possible location?”

“I want to check on her,” Sam insisted. “I don’t want her to be scared.”

Dean didn’t respond, he just parked the Impala and led the way into the room. The boys hadn’t taken two steps into the room before Sam caught sight of you ducking into the bathroom and slamming the door behind you.

“Y/N?” Dean called out. “Sweetheart, are you ok?”

Silence greeted his question.

“Y/N?” Sam knocked on the door. “Please answer me.”

“Go away!” Your voice was tight and squeaky, even through the door.

“Kiddo it’s us,” Sam assured you.

“How-how do you know my name?” There was more confusion in your voice than fear now.

“Y/N—“ Dean’s voice stuck, and he cleared his throat. “It’s us, it’s your brothers. You know us, remember?”

The lock clicked on the bathroom door, and Dean could see half of your face as you peered up at him. After a moment, you swung the door open all the way, but you remained in the doorway hesitantly.

“I know you,” you mumbled. Dean held his breath as you stared first at him, then Sam. “My…brothers…” you were rubbing your arm now, anxiously glancing at your brothers as you wracked your brain for more information. “You’re…you’re S-S…D…” you were breathing hard now, terrified that you couldn’t remember their names. “I-I know it, I know who you are, I know it!”

“Hey, it’s ok, it’s ok,” Sam soothed. “Do you want me to tell you?”

“No, no, I know it,” you insisted. “I know this, I-I have to know this.”

“It’s…it’s ok if you don’t remember,” Dean spoke up. “We’re here, we can help you.”

“No, it’s not ok!” Your outburst startled the boys, but they didn’t show it. “It’s not ok, I have to know this! You-you’re my big brothers, and I have to remember you!”

“Commere.” Sam couldn’t stand to see you start to cry, so he pulled you into his arms. “It’s gonna be ok…we’re going to fix this, we are.”

“I-I have to…I remember, I have to…” you were babbling almost incoherently. Sam looked at Dean over your shoulder, and they shared a moment of painful panic before Dean spoke.

“I’m gonna get us some food.” And he rushed out the door.

Sam stayed with you for several minutes before you slowly disentangled yourself from him.

“I can’t remember,” you whimpered.

“I…I know.” Sam sighed. He was about to speak again when he spotted the Impala out of the corner of his eye through the window—Dean was sitting inside, not moving; he hadn’t left. “Um…I’m gonna go talk to him.” Sam started for the door, but you stopped him.

“Let me,” you said. “I…I want to.”

So Sam stood back as you went to comfort your brother whose name you couldn’t remember.

…

He just needed a minute. He would go out, get food, come back, and be ready to help you again but he just needed a minute.

He turned on the radio, cursing himself for it a moment later when Hey Jude started playing. He reached up to turn it off—it was just too painful to hear this, your favorite song—but he stopped when your favorite part started playing.

“And any time you feel the pain,

Hey Jude, refrain

Don’t carry the world upon your shoulder.”

The words brought back a thousand memories, a thousand little moments between you and Dean that he knew he would remember forever. A few precious moments stood out above the rest—

…

“Hey little sister.” The first words Dean ever said to you. You were just a toddler, crying in the doorway of a filthy motel room while you watched your mother—some random hookup of John’s who’d gotten sick of taking care of a kid—drive away. She’d stayed long enough to hear that Dean was John’s son, then she’d snapped, “This is for him,” and shoved her daughter forward before rushing to her car.

You were utterly inconsolable, sobbing until your face was bright red and you could barely breathe. If Dean didn’t calm you down quickly, you might pass out, crying yourself into exhaustion.

“Hey Jude…” Dean had barely even made the decision to start singing before Hey Jude came to his head—the song his mother used to calm him down. “Don’t make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better…”

…

Dean would’ve done anything—anything—to undo the last ten minutes. He wanted to go back and change it all, to tell you a different story, to say “monsters aren’t real, they’re just stories, and of course dad doesn’t fight monsters, of course he’s not in danger, of course he’ll come home.”

But he couldn’t.

You were scared now. Maybe you always would be, in some capacity. You would always carry that little voice inside that said—“there are monsters out there, and they want you dead.”

Dean hadn’t wanted to tell you. Why did you have to be so curious? Why did you have so many questions, questions that you demanded answers for?

You were crying now; sitting by the motel window, waiting for dad to show up, and you were crying. Dean had done this—he’d made you so scared that you cried by the window, hoping that dad was coming home.

You flinched when the wind banged a tree against the window, and Dean decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He sat beside you, and you latched onto his arm instantly, leaning on him for support. Dean did the only thing he could think of—

“Hey Jude, don’t be afraid…”

…

Dean’s memories retreated to the back of his mind when the Impala door opened and you climbed in. He stopped his gentle singing—he hadn’t even realized he was doing it—when you turned to look at him. He looked from your eyes to the radio, almost as if he were begging you to remember—not just the song, but everything it meant to both of you. You just blinked up at him with that blank expression that had been haunting Dean since you started to forget.

“I don’t want you to be sad,” you whispered. Dean smiled painfully.

“You don’t even know my name.”

“But I know that I care about you.”

Dean’s breath hitched.

“You shouldn’t worry about me, little sister. I’m gonna fix you, I promise.”

“But what if you can’t? I still don’t want you to be sad.”

Dean was struggling to hold onto his resolve—to his strength.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you.”

The both of you lapsed into silence, the closing notes of Hey Jude still playing.

“I like this song,” you said quietly. “It sounds nice.”

Dean clenched his jaw tightly to keep his lips from quivering.

“Kid, please go back to Sammy.”

“Sammy,” you mumbled to yourself, as if trying to put a face to the name. Dean’s fists clenched as he blinked rapidly.

“That room-“ he pointed- “go knock. Sam is in there, he’ll take care of you while I get us some food.”

You stared at Dean for a long moment; he knew that you were worried about him, but the blank expression on your face hurt more than he could take.

“Sweetheart, go. I need you to…please. Please go.”

You left without another word.

…

“I found it.” Rowena’s outburst came just after you swallowed the last of your fries—Sam and Dean had barely picked at their food, but you had forgotten so much that you were no longer sure what they were worried about, so you felt fine.

“Found what?” Dean demanded.

“The coven. I’m sure of it. It’s the perfect place for a witch to hide. You take the last remaining in the coven out and get me their grimoire, and that curse will be gone before we know it.”

“What about her?” Sam’s eyes darted to you before looking back at Dean. “I don’t think she should be alone, she’s forgetting more and more.”

You glanced behind you to make sure he had looked at you, and not someone else. Dean noticed this and sighed.

“We don’t have much choice.” Dean stepped over to the tv and switched it on. “Commere Y/N.” He had to stare at you for several seconds before you realized that that was your name.

You jumped up off the chair and went to sit on Dean’s bed so you could get a good view of the tv.

“Ok, sit here and watch this,” Dean instructed, gesturing to the cartoon playing. “Don’t move, don’t leave, ok?”

“Why can’t I go?” You wondered.

“Do you know what we’re doing?” Dean asked. You pondered this.

“Witches…covens…your lumberjack outfits…a Halloween party?” You guessed.

Dean glanced down at his red flannel, seemingly offended, before he waved it off in annoyance.

“Yeah, you’re definitely staying here.”

“Well can I play with this then?” All three turned to see you with a—quite possibly cursed—dagger that you had somehow gotten from Rowena’s bag, along with a—definitely cursed—witches’ spell book.

“Hey now!” Rowena cried out, snatching both items from you. “How many times do I have to tell you, my things are not toys!”

You ignored this loud outburst and instead stared at Rowena as if you had never seen her.

“I like your dress,” you said suddenly. “It’s so…it’s like a queen’s dress.”

“Why…thank you,” she said with a sudden smile. “I think I like you better this way.”

“Rowena.” Dean grumbled.

“Yes yes alright,” she huffed. “Let’s go.”

…

The witches were surprisingly easy to kill, but when Rowena went to use their grimoire, Sam stopped her.

“How long will this spell take?” He asked.

“Maybe an hour.”

“I want to do it back at the hotel,” Sam insisted.

“It’s faster to—“ Dean began, but Sam interrupted.

“She’s gotta be terrified right now, with how much she’s forgetting so quickly. I want to be there for her, I want her to know that we’re fixing this.”

“It’s not far,” Rowena said, taking Sam’s side. “Let’s go.”

…

You were much harder to coax out of the bathroom this time, and even when you were sitting on Dean’s bed with a brother on either side of you while Rowena worked on the spell, you looked unconvinced.

Sam was trying to calm your nerves by showing you pictures and telling you names and facts.

“And this, this is Bobby—“ he’d shown you Bobby’s picture at least three times, but your short term memory kept getting worse, so you didn’t notice.

“Um…” Sam stopped talking when you started, but you didn’t get far before your face screwed up, and Sam knew you were trying to remember his name.

“Sam,” he supplied, hating to see you in distress.

“Sam,” you said with a breath of relief. “I just…I for-I forgot, what’s…what’s my name?”

Sam barely heard Dean’s sharp intake of breath over his own shattering heart.

“It’s…you’re—“

“Y/N.”

Sam was confused when you answered your own question, until he looked from you to Rowena, who wore a triumphant smile.

“Did you—does she—“

“Sam.” The wide grin on your face was unmistakable, as was the spark in your eye. “Dean.”

“Oh kid,” Dean breathed, wrapping you in his arms a split second before Sam could. Sam didn’t care though—he grabbed both his siblings in a group hug that had Rowena rolling her eyes, although the smile never left her face.

“You’re back.” Sam grinned.

“Did you ever doubt it?” You questioned with a laugh.

“I admit, a few moments gave me pause,” Sam chuckled.

“Didn’t doubt it for a second,” Dean insisted. “I knew you’d come back to us.”

“Well I’m sure that that would’ve comforted me—if I coulda remembered your name.”

You knew Dean was gonna throw that pillow at you before he’d even grabbed it—you didn’t need your memories to tell you that.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley

[burningflamescurse]

48 Stitches

Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: after being in a Brutal Fight with a Shifter and Rolling down a Steep Hill a Couple Miles, [Name] is left with a Severe Stomach Injury.

TW: Stitches, Painful Injuries, mentions of a Shape shifter, crying, Infections, fevers, soft and Fluffy Dean.

A/N: trying my shot at my first Dean x reader one shot, first time Writing for Dean so Please tell me what you all think!

This Particular Shifter had been Playing games with you and the boys for a while now, four days To be Exact, leaving Dead bodies in its wake as the person it was Impersonating at the moment. Being the Excellent tracker you were known to be, you and the boys had tracked the shifter down to a mountain above a small town. You had all flashed out your weapons out prepared to take out the Supernatural creature. You had Produced your trusty silver blade, while Dean and Sam drew out their guns which were filled with Silver Bullets.

What you weren’t expecting though was that the Shifter would launch itself at you, causing you both to roll and tumble Down the steep hill of the Mountain going down into the woods, the shifters claws Sunk deep into your belly as you did, practically Shredding the flesh allowing blood to just Pour out. You heard Dean’s worried voice call out for you. “[Name]!”

You grunted as you Struggled with your blade against the shifter’s Brute Strength, the Shifter knocked its Elbow into your jaw Sending you back a few feet into a Tree along with your blade. You narrowly managed to grab your blade and dodge it's claws as it tried to attack you again. You managed to dislocate it’s shoulder but it Pinned you to the ground on your back trying to stab you with your own blade as you tried to push his arm away.

It had managed to Push the Blade slightly into your chest as a Moan of Pain Escaped you before a Single Bullet ran out sending the shifter rolling a few feet away from you as you laid on the Ground fighting for breath as your wounds bled. Dean quickly made his way over to you, Extremely worried. “[Name], oh God.. are you okay?” he asked quietly afraid to even touch your wounds, in fear of hurting you more.

You whimpered Quietly lifting up your shirt slightly, Showing the Cuts and Tears all along your Abdomen, Sam’s Eyes Scrunched up in worry. “That’s not good [Name], you’ll probably need a good amount of Stitches.” he voiced his Concerns. You almost whined at that, both of the boys knew how much you hated stitches. Fortunately you passed out when Sam said that, only hearing Dean’s girlish Scream as you did.

You stirred awake in the Infirmary of the bunker, feeling the soft mattress underneath your back, You had been redressed in one of Dean’s black shirts and a pair of black shorts as to not bother your newly stitched up Stomach. You felt groggy, Sam probably injected you with morphine. You could feel the fuzzy feeling of the drug in your head, it felt good compared to the pain you felt initially.

You heard the door open and your favorite people walked in, Dean, Sam, Castiel and Jack. They all seemed happy to see you awake and alive. A loopy smile made it’s way onto your Pale face you weakly beckoned them in with your hand, barely being able to wave them over.

“[Name], are you alright?” Castiel asked in the same monotone Voice he used for everybody; You smiled slightly, Despite being weakened and Bedridden you were able to pat his hand that had made it’s way onto your Shoulder comfortingly. “I’m okay Cas.” You whispered, letting your hand fall back down to your side.

Dean let a Scoff leave his mouth even as Sam gave him a Scolding look, “Dean.” he scolded, his hand Whacking Dean On his shoulder harshly. “No, Sam. she needs to hear this.” Dean Retorted, Pushing Sam away from him before Roughly Addressing you. “You had to have 48 Stitches just in your Abdomen. Not to mention the seven stitches across the wound on your throat, [Name.]”

Your eyes slightly Narrowed at Dean’s accusing tone, was he really saying that this was all your fault, that you were the reason that you had gotten injured, it was the monster who lunged at you first. “Seriously, you’re blaming me?” You shouted, raising up in the bed as you did. Sam Tried to calm both of you down, before someone got hurt that someone preferably being you.

Jack only stared at you, his eyes conveying such concern and worry for you in this state. “Dean, you must be stupid because I didn’t just attack the Thing Like a Reckless kid! It attacked me!” Your hands gripped the sheets as you spoke, showing every emotion that was Spiraling up inside you. “and let’s not forget, you were the one so convinced that it was a demon so we didn’t come Prepared!” You added, giving him a Reality check.

The room was silent for a moment, now Dean just looked Guilty as he could be for Scolding you. Suddenly Jack spoke up, “You Guys defeated the monster though, right?” Dean nodded as Jack’s smile appeared on his face. “then everything’s okay, because you killed it and now all those innocent people are safe.” he finished.

With Jack being the voice of Reason calming everything and Everyone down you were able to lay back down and Rest a bit. You noticed that Dean was still Looking as Guilty as ever, so you grabbed onto his hand with Such affection. “Hey Dean, I’m okay now. I’m here and i’m not ever leaving you anytime soon.” you soothed.

Dean nodded, lifting your hand up to lay a kiss upon it. “okay. Okay, thanks [Name.]. I love you.” he whispered in such a soft Voice, you returned his loving words with a Kiss to his inner wrist.

And for now you knew that everything was going to be alright as long as you had Dean, and Dean had you.

[winchesterwild78]

Taking Care of Each Other

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader 

Warnings: Dean and his silly walls (yes that’s a warning), Smut!, unprotected sex (cover it up people), aftercare 

A/N: Last anon request for what aftercare would look like between Dean and the reader. I’m using the character, Dean, but this does not follow the Supernatural story at all. No disrespect to anyone, this is a work of fiction. All work is my own. I do not give permission for it to be taken. This was written and edited fast, please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

Dean Winchester, the green eyed man that rolls through town every few months for his job that he can’t tell you about. All he says is it’s “the family business” and his brother, Sam and him took it over when their father died. 

You hadn’t planned on sleeping with him the first time you met him, but one thing led to another and let’s be honest, how could anyone say no to him. He was built like he was carved by the gods and he was a very skilled lover. He took you places in the bed you’d never been and he always made you feel like you were the only woman in his life.

You were sure that wasn’t the case, but it was nice to think you were. Even if it was only for a few days. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” You heard the familiar voice behind you. You turned around and came face to face with Dean Winchester. “Hey, Dean. Good to see you”, you turned to fill the coffee of another customer. 

You felt his eyes on you the whole time you helped customers. You came back to his table to take his order. “Do you want your usual, Dean? Cheeseburger, fries, drink and a slice of cherry pie?” He touched your arm “You know me so well, sweetheart.” You pulled away. “I’ll put your order in, Dean. Sammy not joining you to eat?” 

“No, Sam didn’t come with me on this trip. Is everything okay, you don’t normally pull away from me.” “Yes, I’m just busy, Dean. We all can’t be our own boss.” You didn’t mean to sound snippy, but you were tired of the yoyo relationship with him. 

He sat back and watched you working. He loved watching you work and interact with people. That’s what drew him to you, your sweet personality and your kindness. He often thought about you on his hunts. Dean wanted to tell you about his life and what he did, but he needed to keep you safe.

Dean’s order was ready so you grabbed it from the window and walked it over to him. “Here’s your order, Dean. Let me know if you need anything else.” Dean looked at you “Thank you, Y/N. Um, what time do you get off?” “I get off in about an hour, why?” “Well, I was hoping we could talk.” “Talk?!? Ha! I didn’t know the great Dean Winchester knew how to talk with his clothes on.” 

“Wow, okay. Sorry I asked. I’ll eat and be out of your hair.” Dean looked defeated. You walked away and your heart broke. Why did you talk to him like that? He didn’t deserve it. You walked around the diner helping other customers, but your eyes kept looking over at Dean. He’d barely touched his food. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest.

Once your tables were cleared you walked over to Dean and sat across from him. “Dean, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you. It’s unfair and just mean. If I’m being honest I’m just hurt. I feel like our relationship is just a convenience for you when you’re in town. I don’t know anything about your job, and you keep all these walls up. I care about you. If I’m being completely honest, I’m in love with you.”

Dean’s green eyes looked up at you and he took your hand. “Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry. My life is hard and I just wanted to protect you from it. I care about you too. You’re not just a convenience for me.” 

“Dean, then please trust me enough to tell me about your life. I want to know all about you. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I’d give up everything to be with you. I know you have walls up, but dammit, Dean I’m going to break them down if it’s the last thing I do.” Dean smirked. “I know you will, darlin’. How about after you get off we go back to your place and talk. If you want to.” “Dean, I’d love to.”

About 2 hours later you were pulling into your driveway with Dean behind you in the Impala. Dean climbed out of the car looking sexy as ever. You bit your lip. You shook your head, No! Stop it. You can’t end up in bed with him. You’re here to talk.  

Dean walked up and looked around. “The house looks great, sweetheart.” “Thanks, Dean. I’ve tried to keep it up. I just finished remodeling the inside. Shall we go in?” Dean shook his head yes. 

Once inside your dog, Tilly came bounding up to Dean. She always loved him and was excited to see him. Dean sat on the couch and Tilly jumped up and licked him while wagging her tail. He laughed as she covered him with licks. You loved his laugh. 

“Dean, I’m going to go change. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”  “Okay, Tilly and I will be here waiting.” “You can grab a beer if you want.” Dean nodded and you turned to head towards your room.

Dean stood up and walked around looking around at how things had changed since he was last there. “Looks good, Tilly. She’s been busy.” Tilly wagged her tail at Dean. He opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. As he sat down on the couch, you came back into the living room with an oversized shirt and shorts on. Dean smirked, he realized the shirt you were wearing was one of his. 

“What’s so funny, Winchester?” “Oh nothing, just that shirt was mine.” You looked down and blushed. “Well, I like it. It’s comfortable.” You and Dean stared at each other for a few minutes. You felt yourself leaning in. Tilly jumped up and you cleared your throat. 

“So, Dean, what did you want to talk about?” You asked softly. Dean shifted on the couch and turned towards you. “Sweetheart, I wanted to talk about us. You know my job takes me all over the country. It’s dangerous and has cost me people I love. I’ve tried to keep you out of it to protect you. I wouldn’t survive if something happened to you too. He took a deep breath and let it out. Sammy and I hunt things, monsters and other bad things. All of it is real, ghosts, vampires, werewolves, you name it. We cross the country protecting people and helping families that are in danger.” Dean placed his hand on your face, running his thumb over your cheek. “You mean too much to me. I meant it when I told you that you were the only one I’ve been with since we met. I think about you when I’m gone and can’t wait to see you again.”

“Sammy didn’t come with me this time because I asked him to stay at the bunker. I wanted to come and talk to you. I’m not here on a job.” You sat on the couch staring at Dean trying to take in everything he told you. “So, monsters are real, and you go around the country killing them? You’ve been doing this since you were little? Oh my god Dean. That’s horrible. I’m so sorry you had to grow up like that.” 

“Hey, Y/N, I’m fine. It just made me tougher.” You took your hand and placed it gently on Dean’s face. “It’s still not right. I’m sure your dad did the best he could, but you deserve so much more.” You leaned close, stopping halfway hoping he would move the rest of the way. Dean looked in your eyes and moved towards you. 

He placed a soft kiss on your lips and you kissed him back. Dean’s tongue swiped your lips asking for entrance. You opened your mouth slightly and Dean deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth and more when you felt his hands trailing up your body.

Dean loved to touch you and be close to you. After what he told you about his childhood and life, you realized he craved touch because he was so touch starved. It made your heart hurt for him.  

His hands played with the hem of your shirt and you pulled out of the kiss long enough to remove your shirt. Dean bit his lip when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra. “Damn baby, just as beautiful as ever.” 

He pulled you onto his lap and his hands trailed up your body from your hips to your breasts. His calloused hands slowly cupped your breasts and you moaned. Dean took his left thumb and index finger and squeezed your left nipple, while he took your right one in his mouth. He started sucking. Pulling a loud moan from your lips as your head leaned back.

He smirked around your nipple. Dean knew all the spots that drove you wild. You knew how to drive him wild too. 

Feeling the slick pool between your thighs you knew you wanted Dean. Through the thin material of the shorts you had on, you could feel Dean’s hardness through his jeans. You moved your body down into his erection. Causing a growl to come from his lips. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.” You looked in his eyes, now dark green with lust. You bit your lip and pulled him in for a deep kiss.Your walls clenched. Between pants you pulled back “Dean, take me to the bedroom, please.” “Are you sure, sweetheart?” “Yes, Dean. I want you.”

Dean picked you up and carried you to the bedroom. He laid you on the bed gently before closing the door with his foot. Dean removed his shoes and shirt, and slid his jeans down looking directly in your eyes. 

He drove you wild when he did that. He knew it too. You groaned and leaned your head back, Dean chuckled. He made his way to the bed and hovered over you, kissing your lips. His lips trailed down your neck, biting your pulse point making you moan. Dean continued kissing down your body until he got to the waistband of your shorts. He looked up at you through his eyelashes.

He was asking for permission to remove them. You nodded yes and he hooked his fingers and pulled them down with your panties. You lifted your hips to help him. Dean threw your clothes to the side and kissed his way up your thigh. He used his hands to gently part your legs. Exposing your dripping wet core to him. 

You could see his hardness through his boxers. You both looked at each other with lust and love in your eyes. Dean slid off his boxers and his hardness sprang free. You huffed out a shaky breath. Dean was the biggest you’d ever had. He filled you and made you feel things you hadn’t before. 

As he climbed between your legs his hand slid up your thigh. He used his right hand to part your folds, feeling your wetness and need. You bucked your hips into his hand and moaned. “Please, Dean.” “Patience sweetheart.” He purred in your ear. 

You felt his fingers dip into your wet pussy and his thumb rub circles on your swollen clit. Dean moved his fingers and thumb faster, helping you chase your much needed release. You moved your hips into his hand. You were close. Faster than you thought you’d get there. “Dean…I’m….close.” Your breath hitched

“I know baby, cum for me. Come on, let it all go.” Dean whispered. With a deep moan you came hard, squeezing his fingers and releasing your juices. Dean pulled out his fingers and leaned up, capturing your lips. “You ready, baby?” Dean asked as he lined himself up to you. You nodded yes. 

Dean pumped himself a few times and placed the tip at your entrance. As he pushed in you both gasped and moaned. It had been far too long since you two had been together. He pushed the rest of the way in bottoming out. Dean stilled himself for a minute, trying to compose himself. 

He didn’t want to cum too fast, but you felt amazing wrapped around him. Dean’s movements were slow and meticulous. He was savoring every second he had you in his arms. His lips found yours as he slowly moved in and out of you. Your hands slid up his back and into his hair. The sound of moans and pants of pleasure filled the room. 

You’d slept with Dean many times before, but this time felt different. Something had shifted between you two once he told you about his life. 

With every touch and kiss you felt Dean’s walls coming down. His eyes filled with so much love and relief. Dean’s head rested in the crook of your neck as he slowly moved in you. His hot breath on your body sent chills down your spine. Your hands traced up and down his back, feeling how his muscles moved. 

Your resolve was wearing down. You didn’t want to fall deeper in love with him, because you didn’t want to be hurt, but you couldn’t help it. In a breathy voice you whispered “I love you, Dean. So much.” Dean stilled and looked in your eyes. He softly kissed your lips and said “I love you too, sweetheart.”

This was the first time he’d ever said it to you. Usually he said he cared about you or you meant a lot to him, but he never said ‘love’. As Dean got closer to his release, he sped up a little. With one final thrust he spilled his hot seed deep inside you. Coating your walls with white ropes of cum. 

He slowly pulled out as he felt himself softening and got up to go to the bathroom. When he returned he brought a warm washcloth to clean you up. Dean cleaned you gently, leaned up and kissed your lips before leaving the room. 

When he returned he had brought you water. Handing you the water, he grabbed the sheet and covered you both up as he crawled in next to you. When you placed the cup down, he held out his arm for you to lay on. 

Dean pulled you close to him and you laid your head on his chest, delicately tracing his tattoo with your finger tips. He kissed the top of your head “I do love you Y/N, so much. I’ve been a fool. I should have told you a long time ago.” You looked up at him “Shh, it’s okay baby, you told me and that’s all that matters.” 

Dean smiled and kissed your lips. “Hey, move in with me. Move in with me and Sammy.” You sat up “What?! You want me to move in with you?” “Yes! That way I don’t have to be away from you. You can have your own room if you want or we can share my room. What do you say?” You looked at Dean’s face so full of love and eagerness, “Yes. Yes, Dean I’ll move in with you.” 

He smiled and captured your lips with his. You laid your head back down on his chest and he pulled you tighter. Being with Dean was always amazing, but afterwards was your favorite part. It’s when Dean’s softer side really showed. He always made sure you were taken care of and felt safe. He loved holding you and would trace patterns on your back. At first you thought it was random movements, then you realized he was actually writing his name with his finger tips. It was the sweetest thing you’d ever experienced. 

Moving in together was a huge step for you too, but you knew you would always take care of each other. 

Tags: @nescaveckdaily  @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter

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[mlmxreader]

For I Have Sinned | Dean Winchester x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Hi can I request “Nothing, just… you look really good right now” with dean please ❞

: ̗̀➛ You get a little bit hot under the collar seeing Dean in a particular outfit.

: ̗̀➛ heavy sexual referencing & innuendo, swearing

↳ MINORS DNI

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Admittedly, it was very rare for you and the Winchesters to ever really cross paths accidentally; whenever you worked a job together it was done so on purpose, and often arranged in advance so that you knew where to stay and what was going on.

But this time was different, as a small rural village in pretty much nowhere had been plagued with stories of a werewolf, and you didn’t have time to contact the Winchesters about it before they were bursting into your motel room together dressed as priests.

It made you want to laugh, really, but when they started asking about work, you could only shake your head as you held up your palms.

“Boys, boys!” You shouted, trying not to grin. “Settle down already, I’ve only just got here, alright?”

Carefully, Dean sat on your bed as he folded his arms across his chest; Sam leaned against the wall mimicking his brother’s posture, which made you sigh as you gently tapped your thighs. Unable to keep your eyes off of Dean as you swallowed thickly.

“So, what’d you know?” Dean asked, almost impatient as he raised his brows and stared directly at you.

You shook your head, chewing at the inside of your lip. “Honestly? Pretty much fuck all at this point. You?”

“About the same,” Dean agreed with a curt nod, his gaze dropping to your mouth for a moment before he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Sammy? Could you, erm, could you go grab somethin’ to eat while we talk?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam said slowly, looking between you and Dean for a moment before leaving.

“Quit lookin’ at my mouth,” Dean told him, resting his forearm on his knee and glaring at you. “Now ain’t the time.”

You sighed as you chewed at the inside of your mouth. “Oh, so it’s my fault that you decided to dress up as the only attractive priest on the planet?”

He shrugged. “What about that guy, erm… Andrew whatever?”

“He’s not attractive,” you scoffed. “But seriously, it’s just nothing, just… you look really good right now and, yeah! It’s a little bit distracting!”

Dean laughed softly as he shook his head fondly; he could have said the same about you with your old band t-shirt and matching hoodie, camouflage cargo trousers and beaten up brown boots.

He really could have said the same about you, given how you kept biting your fucking lip and how you were sat with your legs spread; he hardly growled as he swiped his hand down his face, swallowing thickly.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, his breath hitching in his throat as he tried - in vain - to take his eyes away from your mouth for even just a quick moment. He narrowed his eyes slightly, thinking about the last time you were in a motel together alone.

He almost gave up, until you shifted in your seat and grunted under your breath - it almost immediately drew his attention directly to you. 

“Dean!” You almost shouted, making him blink quickly before shaking his head in shock. “Let me guess - suddenly you’re distracted, too, right?”

He nodded slowly, clearing his throat awkwardly as he rubbed his mouth. “Yeah, erm… yeah. Sorry.”

You shook your head, taking in a deep breath as you tried to steady and steel your nerves. “So what the fuck do we do? We can’t… how the fuck are we meant to go hunting if we can’t even sit in a room together?”

“I can get changed,” he murmured. “Dump the whole Father Brodén schtick and find something else. Maybe, erm… I think I got an Agent Taylor or somethin’ stashed away somewhere, I don’t-”

“No,” you said softly, quietly. “No, you don’t need to do that - I’ll, I’ll sit this one out, do base research from here.”

Dean shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “No, I can’t let you do that. You were here first, this is your hunt.”

“Dean,” you sighed. “We can’t do shit if we’re like this. You know that, and I know that.”

“So what do we do?” He asked, furrowing his brows.

“Well, Sam’s out,” you mused, pursing your lips for a moment. “I’m sure we could, erm, y’know… lock the door, keep the window shut and erm… let loose, don’t you think?”

Dean seemed to consider it, swallowing thickly as he shifted where he sat for a moment. “Conflict of interest.”

“Hmm?” You furrowed your brows as you frowned. 

“There’s you and me,” he started, “we don’t see each other often, you know the life - think we can even work together if we’re… lettin’ loose all the time?”

You shrugged, clasping your hands together between your legs as you swallowed thickly. “I’m willing to give it a shot, are you?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “I would be… c’mere a sec, though.”

You got up, your legs a little shaky as you walked over to him, surprised when he pulled you down onto his lap, licking his lips and grinning; you put your hands on his shoulders, eyeing up the white collar around his neck for a moment.

“You should dress as a priest more,” you breathed out, taking a moment to stare at his lips. 

Dean nodded, shifting his hips so that you were right on him. “Noted. You should wear that tight shirt more.”

You squeezed his shoulders a little, breath hitching in your throat. “Noted.”

You couldn’t help it, one hand going to his hair and the other at the nape of his neck as you caught him in a quick kiss; immediately, Dean kissed back, grunting softly when you tugged at his hair gently to pull him closer.

The kiss became open mouthed and heavy, making you squirm a little when you pulled away, looking at how shiny and plump his lips were for a moment. 

“Dean…”

“I’m gonna take my shoes off,” he whispered. “And then I’m gonna lie down - you gonna join me?”

“Well, fuck it” you breathed out, laughing for a second. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”