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67impalaandwhisky · 4 years

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Destiny Is Heaven Sent

Summary: Knowing Dean Winchester since you were fifteen, you’ve always been pulled in his direction. Always wanting to open up the rattled and broken cage your heart lives in. But when the child you’ve been raising together dies, you find yourself closing up the cage of your heart again. And if destiny has one thing for you, it’s to break you down before bringing you back up.

Characters: Dean x You, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, OFC’s, OMC’s, (Ongoing)

This Series Is Set Through Seasons 1-6 With Knowledge That The Bunker Exists

Rating: 18+

Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Grieving, Mentions of Rape and Defilement (As Per A Case), Show Level Violence, Swearing, Smut, Impreg Kink, Blood, Fighting, Drinking, Dean Being Dean, Fluff, Angst, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader

Warnings For This Chapter: Grieving Over Dead OMC, Drinking, Swearing, Flirting

A/N: This is my first Supernatural fic ever! I’ve been writing for a while and have adored Supernatural since the beginning so I’m really excited for this series and I hope everyone enjoys it!

Chapter 2.

"Good morning!" Dean yells out as he unlocks the motel room door.

To his surprise, neither his brother nor you were there to greet him.

He furrows his eyebrows before looking at what should be his bed to see the sheets wrinkled and messed up. He was happy that you slept in his bed and not in Sam's like you've done throughout all these years.

He knows you would never get intimate with his brother, but he can't help the heart wrenching curiosity of it all. He shouldn't have slept with that girl last night, but he did to ease his pain.

You both handle your grief differently and yet, it's the same.

He finds women to distract him, he makes offensive jokes to cover his cowardly self. He does all the things an asshole would do to stop the pain from spreading through his limbs and to his heart.

You barrel your anger towards anything and anyone. You completely shield yourself from the world like everything will hurt you, because it does. You drink the pain away until you're numb with relief.

Two ways of dealing. Both disappointing to one another.

He lays down on the bed, grabbing the pillow and pressing it to his face as he sighs.

The smell of lavender and oak invade his senses. It was so you. It was home.

He lets out a groan before flipping on his back and staring up at the water stained ceiling.

You pretend to never love anything. Never give a fuck about a single thing. But, one thing you did love was Marsh. And, you weren't afraid to show it.

You would baby him and hold him like he tethered you to the planet because he probably did.

He turned you all into a closer family then you were before. He made things domestic in the bunker.

He made Dean feel like he finally had a chance. You felt like his wife, someone who he would bicker with and laugh with. Someone who discussed their son's attitude and his problems.

You were like his life partner. Until that fateful day.

"Good job, baby." You say sweetly as Marsh puts the gun down on the table.

Dean steps over, inspecting the shooting range sheet.

"Hey dad?" The puberty cracking the young boy's voice makes his adopted father smirk as he pulls the sheet off of it's holder.

"Yeah bud?" He asks as he walks back over.

His eyes catch a glimpse of the woman he's known for years as she combs her fingers through the soft brunette locks of the young boy in their care.

She loved him so dearly. Finally having someone to care for.

"Uncle Sammy said he found an easy job and I wanna help...Can I come with you, mom and Uncle Sammy?" He looks over at you and there's an unspoken conversation just with your eyes.

He's getting older and he wants to do this. He wants this life. He wants to prove himself. Dean can see his willpower and his need to grow up.

When his father was younger, John treated him and Sam like recruits rather than his children. Dean chose to take it a different way, letting Marsh decide when he was ready and he says he's ready now.

They have to respect this.

"Sure you can, baby." You whisper before kissing his forehead and smiling at him.

"Hello Dean." The voice rips him from his memories and he sits up quickly with his hand over his heart.

"Goddammit! What do you want, Cas?" He barks out as he lays back down on the bed.

He hugs the pillow tightly to his body as the angel sits down on Sam's bed.

"I would like you to fall in love with Y/N." Cas says as he puts his hands on his knees calmly.

He lets out a sharp laugh before throwing the pillow at Castiel.

"Not this again!" He says as Cas gently places the pillow on his lap.

"You must do this Dean. You must make a child with her. It's your destiny." Dean sits up quickly, frustration starting to seep into his bones as he points at his friend.

"You don't get to sit there and tell me about destiny. You hear me? You telling me that I'm supposed to fall in love with her makes me hate the fucking idea. That we're supposed to get pregnant and have a kid? For what? So they-they could be a vessel just in case something wants to come crawling back and inhabit my kid? No thanks!" His voice is sharp and agitated as he walks over to the small fridge and grabs a beer.

It's five o'clock somewhere.

"I know this is...difficult for you to understand but-"

"God-fucking-dammit Castiel. It's not difficult at all to understand! I've known Y/N since I'm fifteen years old. I've loved her from the moment I saw her. I raised a kid with her. And you know what I can't do?! I can't show her how much I love her or be with her because of this stupid destiny crap." He says before chugging his beer and slamming the bottle down on the table.

There's silence in the motel room for a while. Closing his eyes, he knows Cas is still there. He didn't hear wings flutter and he can practically feel his gaze burning through his skin to his heart.

"Yes. I understand." Cas says quietly.

"No. You don't." Dean says simply before putting his hands over his face and sighing.

"You might see how I feel. You might be able to get a glimpse of it in my mind but you don't know a damn thing about what goes through my head. I thought I had something good. Was working up to something great with her. And then Marsh died and she's right back to how she was when we first met. When we were fifteen. You don't know how destroyed I am." He says finitely, waving his hand as if to tell his friend to just stop talking.

Dean opens his eyes to the empty room before scoffing loudly. The tip of his tongue laps over his bottom lip as he leans back against the counter.

You are his everything and his nothing all at once.

Picking up the beer bottle, he flings it across the room only to watch the brown glass shatter into small pieces.

"Hi, I'm Agent Simmons and this is Agent Thayer we're with the FBI." You say, holding up the badge to the coroner.

"Great, thanks for coming KISS but I already told everything to the sheriff. If you didn't read the report." The older man says as he gives a short glance to your badges.

"Right. No of course, but we're looking into it because the case is so odd. So if you could just tell us what you told the sheriff. We would appreciate it." Sam says as you walk along the corridor.

"Well you got that right, kid. Odd isn't even the word. Try freaky." He says as he pulls open one of the smaller doors that line the wall.

You can smell bleach along with the underlying scent of decay. Grimacing you focus on the covered body as it rolls out of the wall unit.

This was never the most fun job but it beats waiting at the motel for Sam to get back, or worse. Dean.

You couldn't help but be bitter that he didn't show back up last night. Too deep into the pussy that he got last night to even think of you.

Even though there's no reason why he should think of you.

You weren't together. You've never been together.

He made that clear when you both were seventeen. He could see how comfortable you were with him. Flirting and giggling all the while as you helped his father out with jobs.

John encouraged canoodling between you two, honestly. And you think it put Dean off. Or maybe it was just you in your entirety that he was putting off.

He would only flirt and tease playfully when he was drunk. And, as you got older and went out to bars you noticed that he did it with everyone. But, you were comforted when he laid it on thicker with them. Almost like he could just be himself around you.

"So what are we looking at here?" Sam mumbles as he grimaces.

You put your hand over your mouth, happy for the distraction even though this is so fucked up, as the sheet is taken off her body.

"We had to vacuum out her insides. It was all mush. But her kidneys were intact which was odd. And this." Spreading the girls legs, you can see black, thick goo shining like oil on her thighs.

"Haven't gotten the test results back yet on what exactly this stuff is." Swallowing uncomfortably, you look away before shivering.

"Got it." Sam whispers and you can practically hear the gag in his voice.

"I hope you catch the son of a bitch. Or at least make out heads or tails of what's going on." The coroner says covering up the body.

"Jesus." You whisper before closing your eyes.

"Thank you. We'll see ourselves out." He says before putting his hand on the small of your back and walking you out of the room.

"Absolutely disgusting." You say to him as he undoes his tie, weaving through people in the hallway before ending up back next to you.

"What is going on? I've never seen that before." He says dumbfounded.

"What ghost has the mojo to do that? Ectoplasm cum? That's just insane." You say as you both shove the doors open.

"Hey Y/N...do you wanna talk?" Sam asks as he makes his way towards your car.

You stop in your tracks before tilting your head.

"What Dean did last night… It wasn't right of him. And, I know you must be feeli-"

"Keep it to yourself kid. I'm as fresh as a daisy." You cut him off as you unlock your car.

"Yeah… Okay… Right. I just-- I'm here to talk to you always, you're my best friend y'know?" Sam says gently as he climbs into the car with you.

"I know Sammy." You mumble as the engine purrs to life.

Too bad there's nothing to talk about.

Ending up back at the motel. You shove the door open to Dean and some random chick as she sits on his lap.

Your jaw clicks and you throw his bag of food beside him before walking over to the fridge and grabbing a beer.

"Hey Y/N. This is Candy." You scoff in disbelief and your heart clenches as you press the bottle cap lid above the corner of the table.

Slamming your hand down, the cap pops off easily and you give a fake, terse smirk to the girl as she waves.

There was a time when Dean called you 'Candy girl' for a completely different reason. It was a pet name you cherished but now you think it's sickening.

"Candy girl!" Dean calls to you as you put your rifle back together.

You look up, one eye squinting from the blazing sun as he holds out a chocolate bar.

"Oh man! I love Twix." You say grabbing it from his hand.

"I know. That's why I got it for you." He says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"This is why you call me Candy girl?" You ask lightheartedly as you rip open the packaging.

He pushes the hood of Baby up before turning his head slowly to you.

"No. I call you Candy girl because you're the sweetest woman in my life. God. You moron." He mutters before burying himself inside the front of his car.

"Get out." You tell her as Sam enters the room.

His eyes go wide and he looks at you quickly before swallowing thickly.

"Oh Y/N. Come on…" Dean whispers at the fierceness of your voice.

You look at him expectantly before chugging your beer and wiping at your mouth with your thumb.

"Dean Abel." You mutter as you grab another beer.

"Okay, sweetheart. You heard the boss. No fun for me today." He says as he runs his hands over her arms.

You are so grateful he has never uttered the word sweetheart to you.

It makes you feel as if you're a smidgeon different then all the other women he's ever known.

You don't watch as she leaves but you can hear her heels clicking and you can see Sam move out of the way out of the corner of your eye.

You take in the broken glass by the bathroom before shaking your head slightly.

"Why don't you do some fucking work or something?" You ask him as the door gets swung shut.

"I was doing work. Apparently our dead girl was a prostitute that worked with Candy." You hum to him before leaning back against the counter.

"So that's what you do now? You pay for it? Last night you seemed to like getting it for free." You mumble as you grab another beer.

Sam flinches while Dean raises his eyebrows towards the heavens.

"Got something to say to me, Candy girl?" Dean asks with a laugh.

That's it.

"Y/N!" Sam screams as you charge at his brother.

The bottle of beer smashes onto the floor, your feet stepping into the puddle of hops and suds as you ball up your fist.

"Bring it on." The oldest whispers as he clenches his jaw.

"STOP IT!" Sam bellows as he wraps his arms around you.

You struggle against his vice grip, your tongue running over your teeth as you smile at your best friend.

"Can't you see how horrible you're being to each other? Beating each other up and taking your guilt about Marsh's death out on one another?!" The younger brother asks as he throws you down onto the bed.

"Sam. Don't." The authority in Dean's voice makes you swallow nervously.

"I miss him too, Dean. We all miss him. But you can't keep beating yourselves up like this. You can't keep treating each other like shit when it's not your fault he died. He wanted to go with us!" His voice cracks as he puts his hands down to his sides dejectedly.

"I said don't!" His brother barks out before looking at you.

You didn't even realize you were crying until now. You press your fingers to your cheek, gathering a tear as it falls before scoffing and wiping your face.

"Fuck this." You whisper as you stand up.

"Where are you going?!" You hear the oldest call to you as you walk to the door.

"Away from you." You mumble as you tug the door open harshly.

Dean sits in complete silence.

He's been this way for an hour. He usually cleans guns when he thinks, or drinks. But, he can't bring himself to do anything. He just wants to crawl into a hole and stay there for all eternity.

You're so closed off. So gated from this reality now. It's breaking his goddamn heart.

God knows what you were up to.

Fights between you both is always bad. But there's never an underlying tone of hate.

He could hear the venom rolling off your tongue like it was nothing.

He could feel the angst that was vibrating throughout your body so clearly.

And, he just goaded you on. Because, that's what he's always done. But he shouldn't have.

"Dean?" It's a mere whisper in the dark room.

"Yeah." He whispers back, a choked voice echoing throughout the room.

"Aren't you going after her?" Sam asks quietly as he lays down in bed.

"No Sammy. She doesn't want me to." He looks down at his calloused hands before biting his bottom lip and lowering his head.

"Yes she does. You know that. She doesn't even know that she wants you to. But you do." His younger brother replies.

"I can't go to her Sam. I can't let myself fall into this trap. Her hating me is better than nothing. Then she can't love me."

"You're an idiot. She loves you regardless. Whether she's going to admit it to herself or not. This whole destiny thing is bullshit. So what if you guys have a kid? Doesn't mean it has to say yes to being a vessel." Dean clicks his teeth at his brother's words before carding his fingers through his hair.

"For now you have to go make sure she's okay. You have to take care of her. She's hurting so deeply."

He mulls it over for a minute or two.

He's worried sick already. He just has to go. Even if it's wrong to give in, it's right to take care of her. Always.

Standing up, he grabs his jacket and his car keys.

"She'll be somewhere fancy since she wants to get rid of you." His brother says as he walks towards the door.

"Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam mutters as he rolls over in his bed.

"Just put down the fucking bottle." You mutter to the bartender.

"Ma'am this is a two hundred dollar bottle of whisky." The bartender says as he looks over your appearance.

"Did I stutter?" You ask annoyed, handing him the money.

As he sets down the bottle, you put your hand under your chin before huffing out.

This whole thing with Dean. This whole battling each other with mean words and fisticuffs is so exhausting.

When Marsh was around you never really fought. You had tiffs and even those ended with light hearted slaps. These fights, they're big. And, they take an even bigger toll on your mental health.

Yes, you're pushing away the one man who makes you happy.

Yes, you're closing yourself off again just like when you were a teenager.

Yes, you're completely ignoring reason for the hatred you feel in your gut.

But of course, you couldn't hate Dean Winchester. Quite the opposite.

And, that's what makes your stomach churn at night.

That's what makes everything a bitch.

He started it first. A few days after Marsh's death-- the whole push Y/N away until she wants to claw her own eyes out task.

And, he is doing a great job at it.

You're not letting him in and he's pushing you to the edge of not even wanting to get back to a place you're comfortable with him.

But, why?

Why is he pushing you to the edge like this? Why do you even fucking care?

"Can I get an extra glass over here, sweetheart?" You hear a deep voice ask and you let out a low whine as you cover your eyes with your hand.

Great. Just fucking fantastic.

A chair scrapes loudly across the linoleum flooring before you feel his big, rough hand on your bare thigh beneath your ripped jeans.

You shiver at his touch before turning your head to him and peeking through your fingers.

"I know you better than you know yourself." He says before winking at the girl as she sets down the glass.

You watch her blush and you grimace at the interaction before slinging back the shot.

"You bought the whole bottle, Mel Gibson?" He asks as he pours himself a shot.

"Go away. Please." You whisper before putting your hand below your chin again.

"Nah. I'll help you finish it. Come on. Let's go to the booth." He says, jabbing his finger to the other side of the bar.

"Why? What's the point? Hey, Carrie. Wanna distract this guy for me?" You ask the bartender and she perks up at the thought.

Typical.

"No thanks. I'm with my wife." He says before grabbing the bottle and your wrist.

You snort at his comment before whining as you get dragged off to the booth like he asked.

"You shouldn't lie to women like that Mr. Winchester. They might think you're not chivalrous." You jeer as you slide into the booth.

"Ha. Ha. You're hilarious. Shut up." He deadpans as he squeezes in beside you.

He was so close you could smell him again. You could smell home.

You push yourself away from him before grabbing your glass and shaking it asking for more.

Looking up at him, you find his deep green eyes staring at you and it makes you feel like a deer in headlights for once. They were so riddled with emotion. Emotion so far beyond anything you've seen for quite some time now.

He pours you some whisky before leaning back in the booth and sighing heavily.

You just stare at each other for a while. Both of you drink one another in, but you break the line of sight first.

You take a large gulp of the alcohol before cringing. The burn is soothing to the flaming fires in your gut.

"I'm sorry. I've been pushing you when you don't deserve it. I've been angry at the whole world." He says finally.

His voice is laced with sorrow and your heart pangs.

"I don't need your sorry." You retort before pouring yourself some more whisky.

"Hey… Hey-" He whispers softly as he holds his hands up, "-I'm not trying to fight with you. I'm not trying to create a rift between us. I'm opening up."

You grumble gently. You wish he just fucking wouldn't. It's always such a blessing and a curse to see him like this.

He pours his heart out and you have the overwhelming emotion to do the same.

"I'm sorry too." You whisper back before finishing off the glass.

"We both handle things so wrong when we're upset. Sam says it's because we're almost like the same person and I think I'm starting to believe it." He says before chuckling.

You begin to count the freckles on his face again, like you once did many moons ago.

He's so perfectly not yours.

So perfectly Dean.

The silence this time is easier. It's almost welcome.

"I shouldn't have slept with that girl last night. That's on me." He mutters above the lip of his glass.

You tilt your head before snorting, "We aren't together. You don't have to apologize to me. We've never been together."

"No! I know!-" He says quickly, "-But still that doesn't mean it was right. I just wish...I just wish things could be like before. When Marsh was around...there was no sorrow or no anger."

You sigh before putting your hands over your face.

"Yeah. I know. But he isn't here anymore and we all deal with it in our own way." You pour some more alcohol.

"Yeah we do...But, I want you to lean on me more. I want you to trust me with your thoughts like you used to. Like when you cried when you killed your first wraith."

You begin to smile at the memory before rolling your eyes.

"I was crying because I literally felt like I was going insane." You deadpan earning a chuckle from him.

This is easy too. Falling back into routine.

The cage you've locked yourself away in these past weeks is slowly opening again and it's a terrifying notion.

"Or the time when you got abducted by the djinn and you told me to leave you there. Because you loved your dream so much." He says and you smirk in response.

"Nothing like a djinn twisting my mind into having four babies with you and you being my husband." You say raising your glass before downing it all.

He swallows thickly and looks away before clearing his throat.

"We almost had that. Hurts that we can't have that." He mumbles before pouring a tall glass for himself.

"We aren't meant to be. You know that. You fucking told me that." You say as you throw your boots over his lap.

He looks down at your boots and you can't quite read the emotion in his eyes as he begins to play with your laces.

He lets out a small laugh before shutting his eyes and nodding.

"Would you? If we were meant to be? Would you be with me?" He asks before looking back up at you.

He's never asked you that before. You stammer on syllables before putting your hands through your hair.

"I don't… I don't know." You say truthfully and you see him nod rapidly before swallowing.

"What if it was our destiny to be together? What if we were made for one another?" His voice is feeble now.

You click your teeth before slumping down in the booth.

"I can't tell you an answer because it's not true." You say finitely.

He hums in agreement before looking away.

"Yeah… You're right."

"Come on you lazy drunk." Dean groans out as he pulls you out of the car.

You stagger on your feet as you fall into his chest.

"Dean Abel." You slur out as he closes the door with his foot.

"Yeah. Yeah. I got you, princess." He murmurs as he scoops you up into his arms.

"I bought a room. Five." You say holding out the key with a large smile.

He shakes his head with a smirk as he walks down the strip of concrete of the motel.

"Why'd you do that?" He asks as he takes it, pulling the key loop onto his finger.

"To get away from you." You reply as you bury your face into his neck.

"Oh...Joy." He mumbles as he approaches the room.

Opening the door, he makes quick steps to the bed before gently laying you down.

"Okay. He-Here I am, Dean. One of your sweethearts. Strip me!" You whisper as you hold your arms up.

He smirks as he shakes his head before rolling his eyes.

"You're a fucking psycho." He mutters before helping you out of your jacket.

He takes in your slightly parted lips, your cheeks that are tinged pink from the alcohol that pumps through your veins.

He sighs gently as he takes off your shirt.

His eyes drift anywhere but your body as he discards your shirt elsewhere.

"Take your pants off." He instructs as he takes off his jacket.

"No. You take 'em off." You mumble as you close your eyes.

Grumbling to himself, he rolls his eyes before pulling your pants off of your legs in one quick swipe.

"Now go to bed and don't throw up." He says as he tosses your pants onto the couch.

Your head as heavy as it is still lifts off of the pillow as you look at him, seeing double but two Dean's are better than none.

"Sleep with me." You whine patting the spot behind you.

He hums to you, an unsure noise before sighing and taking off his shirt.

Your eyes rake over his toned chest and stomach, defined just enough to see small abs beneath his soft looking skin. You can see the freckles that fleck and dot his chest and shoulders as he walks over to the bed.

"I ain't takin' my pants off. You pervert. Go to bed." He mumbles as he lays down beside you.

You smirk before pressing your head into the pillow.

"I think I would…" You find yourself saying as you close your eyes.

"You would take my pants off?" He asks loudly, his voice riddled with surprise as he wraps his arm around your body.

"If it was destiny and we were meant to be I think I would be with you." You say as he presses his chest to your back.

"Shut up and go to sleep." He murmurs as his forehead connects to the back of your neck.

"You don't know what you're asking for." He whispers as he closes his eyes.

Forever Dean Tags: @akshi8278

#dean winchester #dean x you #dean x reader #spn #supernatural #supernatural fic #destiny is heaven sent #supernatural fanfic #spn series #spn book #dean smut #dean book

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