#dean fic

[wildwestdean]

transposition

summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made

pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)

word count: 6.3k+

warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”

“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face. 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch. 

“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-” 

“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation. 

“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you. 

It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together. 

“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients. 

“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”

“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”

He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back. 

With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t. 

You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying. 

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension. 

“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-” 

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands? 

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body? 

“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you. 

“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”

“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around. 

“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself. 

“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode. 

“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!” 

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room. 

“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?” 

“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind. 

“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare. 

“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you. 

“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on. 

Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.” 

“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat. 

Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now. 

“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling. 

“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily. 

Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time. 

“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.

Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”

“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground. 

“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?” 

“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be. 

“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”  

“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him. 

“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!” 

“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation. 

“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return. 

“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean. 

“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again. 

“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”

“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face. 

“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.” 

“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room. 

You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes. 

“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression. 

“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you. 

“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug. 

“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!” 

“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.” 

“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.” 

“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.” 

“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish. 

With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen. 

“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”

“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?” 

“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”

“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!” 

“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!” 

“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”

“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.” 

“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!” 

“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen. 

“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table. 

Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.” 

Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort. 

Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze. 

“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head. 

Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite. 

“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food. 

The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere. 

“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin. 

You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?” 

“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?” 

“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.

After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t. 

“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly. 

You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier. 

“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.

“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile. 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.” 

“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving. 

You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle. 

“You alright?” you asked tentatively. 

“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one. 

“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.” 

“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better. 

He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation. 

He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.” 

“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word. 

You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.

“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table. 

“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration. 

“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”

“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.” 

“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return. 

You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.” 

Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”

“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation. 

“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.” 

You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk. 

“What does that mean?” you asked curiously. 

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.” 

“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”

You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.

“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you. 

“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively. 

You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.” 

“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.” 

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically. 

“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.” 

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.” 

“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.” 

“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.” 

“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off. 

“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.” 

“Promise?” you asked meekly. 

“I promise,” he said firmly.

“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further. 

“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears. 

“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly. 

“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.

The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.

You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on. 

“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously. 

“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question. 

You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this. 

“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter. 

The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you. 

Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”

Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake. 

The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day. 

You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there. 

You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam. 

You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything. 

The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore. 

Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out. 

You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either. 

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs. 

“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat. 

Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.” 

“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion. 

“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?” 

“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.

“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?” 

“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”

You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave. 

“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you. 

“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards. 

“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?” 

“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.” 

Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”

“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.” 

“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”

“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words. 

“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward. 

“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response. 

“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.” 

“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.

“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.” 

You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name. 

“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.” 

You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you? 

“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.” 

“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps. 

“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker. 

“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.

“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.  

“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently. 

“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly. 

It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated. 

“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.” 

“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation. 

“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?” 

“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her. 

“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation. 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly. 

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.

It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.

“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?” 

“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around. 

“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!” 

Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room. 

“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief. 

“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar. 

You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying. 

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.

“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly. 

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-” 

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.

“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.

“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room. 

“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by. 

“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car. 

The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him. 

If he ever decided to open the goddamn door. 

“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time. 

You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?” 

You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward. 

He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly. 

“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.” 

He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.” 

“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you. 

“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.  

“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him. 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet. 

“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work. 

“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.” 

“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him. 

“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-” 

“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”

“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.

“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more. 

“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.” 

“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat. 

“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.” 

“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked. 

“We didn’t lie, we just-”

“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”

“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly. 

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?” 

“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.” 

“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?” 

“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.” 

“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess. 

You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?” 

He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?” 

“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.  

“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down. 

“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him. 

“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.  

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?” 

“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more. 

“You said-” 

“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.” 

“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”

“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin. 

“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”

You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low. 

“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.

As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks. 

When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips. 

You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.” 

“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”

tagging: @winharry

dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika

[alexsoenomel]

Play That Zeppelin Tune (Dean Winchester x Reader smut)

Request: Can I request road head with Dean? I feel like this is a PERFECT concept for him, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen one! 🙏🏼

Summary: You and Dean had a deal - no strings attached. But you both knew that wouldn’t last long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI ,road head and vanilla sex in the Impala 

Led Zeppelin songs mentioned in the fic: Ramble On , Since I’ve Been Lovin’ You and I Can’t Quit You Baby

Word count: 3k

Note: This was so fun to write. I’m really happy how it turned out. Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

And a huge thank you to my wonderful beautiful best friend @ambergoddess444​ for helping me edit the fic and being my QUEEEEEEN! <3

Driving into the evening twilight, not a care in the world, you were happy. It was chilly that day, spring was lingering in the air but was still too shy to show its face. The car was purring smoothly, while the trees around you were just one long colorful stain in your peripheral vision. The road was smooth, with few bumps here and there but still smooth nonetheless.

Leather jackets clung perfectly to your bodies as the wind played with your hair. You both decided it was cold, but not cold enough to keep the windows closed.

After Night Moves by Bob Seger ended, silence entered the car before Dean eventually asked you:

"Zepps or AC/DC?”

“Stupid question, Zepps.” You answered.

***

You and Dean shared a special and profound bond over music. You also shared the same temperament and would constantly argue over who was the greatest guitarist, vocalist, etc of all time.

“It’s Page!” Dean said one Sunday morning while stuffing his face with bacon.

“Dean I know Led Zeppelin is your favorite band and I GET IT, but -”

“Not buts, Page is the greatest guitar player of all time you cannot convince me otherwise.” He said cutting your train of thought.

“You’re impossible!” You said in frustration as you took a slice of your Maple pancakes.

Sam sat in silence that day and watched the two of you bicker with a smile on his face while sipping his morning coffee.

“I’m awesome!” Dean said proudly.

“Ritchie Blackmore exists, Dean!”

“Yeah, and he’s good, but Jimmy is Jimmy!”

“You obviously have never listened to Stargazer.”

“Oh I have but nothing beats Jimmy’s solo in Stairway to Heaven!”  And that was where this whole argument died.

You rolled your eyes and didn’t say anything – there was no point in saying anything since he would just repeat himself.

***

"Which song?" Dean asked.

"Surprise me!"

As he inserted the cassette tape, the familiar tune of Ramble On blasted from the speakers of his beloved car. That was one of your favorite songs, it brought back so many memories, innocent bitter-sweet ones, from childhood. Your dad liked to play that song whenever you would go on a road trip. (Aka on a hunting trip, but as a child, you were only shown what he wanted you to see.  Motel rooms with unlimited TV and junk food were your best friend every few weeks. Later in life, you would find out why he would leave you for hours alone in the motel rooms and, well,  that would be the day you would start going with him and start your journey of becoming a hunter.)

It was Dean’s favorite too, for him it was the melody, the grip it had on him. It also reminded him of his dad, since John loved Zepps too.

“I approve!” You smiled thinking about your father. He was a stone-cold man, sometimes an overprotective controlling asshole, but he had an otherworldly taste in music.  

“Awesome!” Dean said.

You were both enjoying the song – Dean’s eyes fixed on the road, loose grip on the wheel while you were lost in your thoughts, trying not to think about the man in that same car.  

You and Dean were friends but…

“Everything that comes before the word but is bullshit” – was something you read a few years ago in a random romance novel and hasn’t left your mind since.

But…

BUT…

***

You were friends before getting drunk one Sunday afternoon, while Sam was asleep and ended up in his bed…naked. After that day, you both realized you gave each other the best orgasms and that the life you were living wasn’t exactly suitable for a romantic relationship, but since you both had extremely high sex drives you slept together again, and again and again…

Eventually, the deal was made –  no strings attached and don’t tell Sam. The part where you didn't tell Sam didn’t last long. You didn’t need to tell him, the poor man found out for himself one night. The next morning was pretty awkward.

“Guys, next time,” he cleared his throat to find the words, “Don’t be too loud. I couldn’t sleep.”

Silence.

Dean stopped chewing his bacon while your cheeks turned pink and you lost appetite.

“Yeah, I don’t care what you do!” Sam continued trying to make things a little less awkward. It wasn't working. “Just…keep it on the low. Please?”

“I told you, you were too loud.” Dean said, digging back into his bacon and eggs.

“Oh go fuck yourself, Dean!” You said before taking a sip of your coffee.

“No need to sweetheart, you did a bang-up job last night.” He sassed back and winked.

You rolled your eyes while Sam had an evident expression of disgust on his face.

***

Friends…

But…

The connection you and Dean had was genuine, strong, and intoxicating, but one thing you knew – he was the right person but the time was fucking wrong.

With the world constantly going to shit and this life – there was no space for love, no space for being in love. And yet, your heart was telling you the opposite, not just your heart – Dean was showing you the opposite of no strings attached. He, at times, seemed attached – too attached.

No strings attached meant no kisses after sex, and yet he would always kiss your forehead afterward. No strings attached meant no going on dates, and yet you didn't mind going to pubs now and then to have a couple of drinks – without Sam. No strings attached meant not acting like you were dating and yet you did just that. Both of you didn't say anything and no one protested.

***

Dean even got a little protective; a few weeks ago when a guy tried to shoot his shot with you, even though you told him multiple times to leave you alone…

"Nice try pal. Scram!" He said, sipping his beer as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

The guy rolled his eyes, obviously getting the hint and finally leaving you alone. That was the first time you got butterflies because of that man, you didn't know why, you didn't understand it and all you could remember was —it felt nice. But the deal was the deal so you decided to play it cool and cheeky.

"So you're my boyfriend now?" You teased him.

"Hey, I don't share. Plus the guy couldn't take no for an answer." He winked and went back to his table where Sam was as you continued your solo game of darts.

I don't share.

****

"What?" Dean asked, snapping you back to reality. You were completely lost in your mind, reminiscing about every damn moment you spent with that man, overanalyzing every look, kiss, and touch you shared, and thinking about all the possible what-ifs. You didn't even realize that you were staring at him a little too long.

"Nothing." — you started with a lie — "I'm just thinking how hot you are while driving." And ended with the truth.

There was something about a good-looking man in front of the steering wheel that you found attractive. Correction, there was something about Dean in front of the steering wheel that you found attractive.

Dean smiled at your comment. It wasn't the first time you told him that, and it definitely won't be your last, but every time he would hear it, it would wake up something in him… something he didn't know how to identify.  He had experienced it a couple of times, but that was a long time ago. He didn’t know what it was back then, and he didn’t know it now, but he knew one thing – he liked it. He liked the effect your words had on him.

"You know every time you tell me that we end up fucking in the car?" He finally said.

And with that, a light bulb went off in your head. You didn't want to think about what ifs or ponder over what if some things were not left unsaid. You wanted to shake that sorrowful feeling off and have fun.

Lucky for you, he was looking extraordinarily hot that day.

"Yeah I know," you said and undid your seatbelt. "I know you secretly get horny whenever I compliment or praise you."

"That's a lie." He lied as he gripped the wheel tightly, eyes still on the road.

“Yeah sure thing,” you said, brushing it off as you turned to face him. “Let’s play a game, Dean!”

“What game?” He asked, looking at you for a second, before focusing on the road again.

"The game is called “Can you resist me? and it goes like this: I give you head and if you stop the car, I win. If you cum, I win too." You leaned forward, placing a kiss on his neck. Dean looked at you again before looking back at the road. His eyebrows lifted for a second, not expecting that kind of game.

"Well, that's fucking impossible! How do I win then?"

"If we manage to get home while your dick is still in my mouth, you win."

“We still have like half an hour!” He said, knowing damn well he didn’t stand a chance. He loved your mouth too much, but still, he wasn’t about to say no.

“Well, step on it then!” You whispered in his ear and kissed him on his neck, and another one and another one… until your lips reached his cheek. He wasn’t saying a thing, he just gripped the wheel even tighter when your hand reached his already hard bulge.

He knew he was going to lose – he wanted to. You were something he thought he would never experience again. You were his laughter, his lust, his…everything. You kept him grounded, you melted his walls like royal water would melt gold. He would never say it, he would never admit it to himself because if he did, it would make everything real. He swallowed nervously when you undid his belt and zipper. Your hand went into his underwear while your lips were still placing kisses all over his cheek and neck.

“You’re going to lose, handsome,” you whispered, teasing him. “I know how much you love my mouth!”

“Bring it on,” he said in a very unsure tone. He knew you were right but still…Dean Winchester accepting defeat right away? Never.

“Eyes on the road then! Dying with your cock in my mouth sounds fabulous, but I don’t feel like dying…again.”

Dean nodded as you lowered your head to his lap and placed a gentle kiss on his tip. He was already hard and ready for you. Dean shivered when you licked the tip a few times before slowly putting it in your mouth.

“Fuck!” He whispered. Those almost 30 minutes back home seemed even longer now for him.

You started moving your head up and down slowly at first, establishing the pace. Not even two minutes have passed when you felt Dean’s hand tugging your ponytail.

Since I’ve Been Lovin’ You started playing in the car. It was the song you both refused to listen to, especially when you were together and alone. It was the forbidden song, the song that woke up the feelings you desperately wanted to ignore. You and Dean would both just casually skip it whenever it was on, no questions asked, but not this time. This time Dean was too busy telling himself not to cum to switch the damn song.

How I love you, darling

How I love you, baby

Dean’s cock was hitting the back of your throat over and over again, while your saliva was dripping from your mouth. The song mixed with his light moans filled your ears as your pace became faster.

My beloved little girl, little girl

But baby, since I've been loving you, yeah

I'm about to lose my, my worried mind, oh yeah

You were enjoying every minute of it. You loved making him crumble and weak. You loved seeing him come undone because of you.

Everybody trying to tell me

That you didn't mean me no good

I've been trying, Lord, let me tell you

Let me tell you, I really did the best I could

“Baby!” You heard Dean say. He had never called anyone but his beloved car ‘baby’ before. You would claim that nickname later on.

I've been, I've been working from seven to eleven every night

I said, it kinda makes my life a drag, drag, drag, drag

You wanted him to give in, you wanted him to lose, especially because you were growing wetter by the minute. So, you wrapped your hand around his shaft and moved it in sync with your head.  The road seemed hazy, blurry even, as he squirmed in his seat.   

Lord, yeah, that ain't right, now, now

Since I've been loving you

I'm about to lose my worried mind, yeah

Watch out

“Fuck this!” You heard him say and suddenly you almost lost balance and hit your head on the wheel. He stopped the car by the road. He lost.

You lifted your head, covered in your saliva, hair all over the place in a loose and messy ponytail. Dean took your head and crushed his lips on yours, tasting his precum on your lips. You kissed him back, not hiding the fact that you were smiling. Once he completely took your oxygen supplies, you broke the kiss.

“You can’t resist me!” You said.  

“You know I can’t, now get in the back seat!”

“Whatever you say, handsome!” You giggled and did what he told you.

Once you stepped outside, you were hit by a cold breeze. Your skin didn’t even register how cold it was since your horniness was keeping you warm. Dean followed, with his unzipped pants, leaving his jacket in the front seat. You took off your boots, pants (with Dean’s help), and jacket, but were too impatient, too needy and pathetic, so once he was on top of you, you kissed him hungrily. He moaned into the kiss as you took the time to lower his jeans and boxers. You were impatient.

“Fuck me! Now!” You said and pressed your forehead against his as you moved your panties to the side to give him access.

Dean's hand went between your legs as his finger lightly brushed your folds, feeling how wet and ready you were for him.

“Jesus and I haven’t even touched you yet!” He said and licked his finger clean.

“You don’t have to. I get wet just by looking at you!” You said and kissed him again.

“Don’t objectify me!” He said, almost sounding offended. You laughed.

“Yeah, you’re not just a pretty face, Dean!”

“Oh really? How so?”

“You can be okay, sometimes,” you started. “When you’re not being an obnoxious jerk.”

“Sometimes?”

You smirked and started kissing his neck.

“Yeah, sometimes.” You teased.

“Good to know.”

The next song that came on was I Can’t Quit You Baby. Your lips were leaving a gentle trail of kisses on his neck as he entered you slowly. A wave of intense pleasure went through you as you moaned his name, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades and pulling him closer.

I can't quit you baby

So I'm gonna put you down for awhile

I said I can't quit you baby  

Dean started to move, establishing a slow pace at first, letting you adjust to his size. He couldn’t get enough of the sight under him — messy hair, smudged mascara all over your eyes, lost in his. He found you incredibly sexy and alluring — every time you would sleep together, he’d wish it lasted forever.

“God, I love this song!” You managed to say in a whisper.

I guess I gotta put you down for awhile

Said you messed up my happy home

Made me mistreat my only child

Yes sir you did!

“Me too!”  

Said you know I love you baby

My love for you I could never hide

Oh, you know I love you baby

It was getting hot in the car as you both started to sweat.

“Dean!” You whispered his beautiful name into his lips, not breaking eye contact. Something about all of this seemed different. It felt more intimate for you, more gentle. Usually, you would fuck like rabbits, and your sex life with Dean was pretty dirty, chaotic, and so fucking sinful. Dean liked when you would take control, and make him follow ‘sexy rules’ as he would call it, and you…well, you liked being in control. You liked seeing him beg, and be your little puppy.

This time was different. It felt more than just a casual meaningless fuck in the car. Eyes glued on each other, hands exploring already familiar bodies, lips swollen and red like cherries from kisses, and all that while your favorite band was playing in the background.

My love for you I could never hide

Oh when I feel you near me little girl

I know you are my one desire

Your lips formed an O as you felt it.

“I’m gonna –”

“Come on baby!”

His words sent that additional wave of pleasure, making your arch your back as you moaned his name over and over again.

When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby

You know it hurts me deep down inside

When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby

You know it hurts me deep down inside

Your orgasm triggered his and he shut his eyes and bit your shoulder lightly. He came inside you, filling you up, leaving you breathless.

You were both sweaty, panting — a mess.

Oh, when you hear me, honey, baby

You know you're my one desire

Yes, you are

You cupped Dean’s face with your hands, forcing him to look at you. Your reaction was just a smile – a genuine smile.

"Don't smile at me like that." He told you.

"Like what?"

"Like we just broke the deal."

" Dean, I think the deal has been broken for a while now."

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

Summary: Since you hugged Dean, that's all he thinks about. Now he just has to find the courage to ask you to do it again.

Pairing: Dean × GN!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst

Word count: 1738

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Your pov:

"My brother is an idiot, he almost got himself killed." Sam said on the phone, talking to you while Dean was driving.

"Is he okay?" You asked, your voice echoing in the bunker.

"I'm super. Not even a scratch." Dean said, probably getting closer to the phone his brother was holding.

"You're "super" but you could have died!" You heard Sam say.

"Sam, you're exaggerating, I ..." It was the last thing you heard before the line dropped.

You sighed, waiting for them to come back.

After a few hours, the bunker door opened and Sam and Dean entered talking to each other.

When you saw Dean, your body acted before you could think and you strode towards him.

"God, you're okay." You said wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing him close to you for a hug.

When you did it, Dean didn't react as you expected. You thought at least you would feel an arm on your back, at least a pat on your shoulder. Instead, you felt his muscles stiffen and his arms remained still at his sides. You waited a few seconds, but nothing has changed.

Okay, that was almost embarrassing. Maybe you shouldn't have done that.

You walked away from him muttering an "sorry" and trying to read his expression but failing miserably.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Dean's pov:

That night, Dean found himself lying in his bed, thinking.

Thinking that he was stupid and the one who ruined everything, as always.

It was a strange feeling what he felt towards you. He wanted to be touched by you again, but not in a sexual way.

No, he didn't wanted it. He needed it.

He needed to feel your body close to his, your arms around him but he didn't want to ask you.

He felt like something was missing in his life now, and it was your body against his.

It was something he had never felt before and he was almost scared.

His thoughts led him to the last time he had had human contact that wasn't during a fight and that wasn't a quick hug with his brother. Had it been with his mom? Had it been so many years since someone had really hugged him? Was that why after you did it was the only thing he thought about?

And then, was it normal for a grown man to want to be hugged? He was no longer a child, why would he need something like that? Did other people feel the same need? And thinking about it, he wanted you to be the person to hug him, he was sure it wouldn't be the same with others but he didn't quite know why.

Dean wanted to hit his head against the wall because of all the questions running around his brain.

He wanted to have hugged you when he had the chance, when you did it. You probably now thought you did something wrong and wouldn't even try to do it again. He had almost flinched when you hugged him and he didn't even know why. Maybe because he wasn't used to it and never expected it from you.

But he loved it, and the only thing he was sure about was that he wanted you to hug him again and hold him for a while if you wanted but he couldn't ask you to do that.

Would you have laughed in his face? Would you have said it was stupid and that he was acting like a child? God, if Dean could punch himself he would.

Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and tried to sleep, but all he could think was himself resting his head on your chest, you holding him tightly against you and letting your fingers go through his hair, he wrapping you with his arms and feeling the beating of your heart.

After a few attempts to get that thought out of his head, he accepted the fact that if he couldn't have it, at least he could have fallen asleep imagining it. And so he did.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Your pov:

Dean was avoiding you, you were sure about it. And he was acting weird around you. So, the night after, when you walked past the open door of his room, in the bunker, you took the chance and walked in.

"Hey." You said sitting next to him on his bed but keeping some space between you.

Dean looked at you without saying anything as you settled on his bed.

"We need to talk." You said calmly. You didn't want to fight, you just wanted to know if he was mad at you and if he was, for what reason. You thought he might be angry because you hugged him. Maybe he thought you were trying to get something else out of him, maybe he didn't like being touched, maybe he didn't like being touched by you.

"What you want to talk about?" He asked you. You could hear a thread of concern in his voice.

"You've been acting weird around me lately." You explained.

"Me? I'm not weird. What made you think that? Don't think I ..." He mumbled before you interrupted him.

"See? You're panicking. It's okay Dean, it's me, you can tell me." You said.

"Just don't laugh at me." He whispered staring at his hands.

"Dean, please explain what's going on." You said.

"Yesterday you... hugged me." He started saying.

"If you didn't want me to do it or if you misinterpreted it, I'm sorry. I was just glad you were okay and..." You said before Dean interrupted you this time.

"No. That's not it. Please don't think you've done something wrong because that's not the case at all." He continued.

"Then I don't understand..." You said.

"It just... felt good." He whispered.

"And that's a good thing. Isn't it?" You asked. You were genuinely confused.

"Yeah." He said simply, always looking down.

"I still don't understand ..." You started saying.

"I just want a hug." He said suddenly.

"Do you want a what?" You asked, surprised. Actually, you understood. But you wanted to make sure you got it right. Was Dean Winchester asking for a hug?

"See, that's why I didn't want to tell you. It's stupid, forget it okay?" He said starting to get out of bed.

To make him stay, you grabbed his hand with yours.

"Is that all? Was that the problem? You just wanted... a hug?" You asked.

Dean stared at your hand holding his for a moment, like it was a weird thing. Like he usually stared at the image of a strange creature in a newspaper or an article on the internet.

You were just holding his hand and he was staring at it like it was something he had never seen before and you thought maybe the "problem" wasn't a hug, it was any kind of human contact. Maybe he just needed it.

Dean nodded, answering your question.

You pulled his hand towards you, pushing him back onto the bed and making him sit down again. You slowly wrapped your arms around him, pushing his body against yours. You could feel his muscles tighten as you ran a hand up and down his back, his body completely rigid.

"Hey, alright. It's alright." You whispered.

After a few seconds you felt his arms wrap around you and you smiled, even though he couldn't see you.

His body slowly relaxed against yours as you kept drawing imaginary circles on his back.

Dean never said a word all the time.

"Are you okay?" You asked, still holding him.

You felt him nod on your shoulder as he held you tighter but without hurting you.

God, that man didn't need a hug but all the affection the world could give him, you thought as you raised a hand to stroke his hair.

You could almost feel Dean's heart pounding as you ran your fingers through his brown locks and he buried his face in your neck.

"Is that okay?" You asked softly.

He nodded again, without speaking and you kept stroking his hair for a few minutes while his arms still held you as if he was afraid you might disappear at any moment. If your heart hadn't broken when you realized how touch starved he was, it would soon have.

"Is that okay too?" You asked again when after a few moments you left a light kiss on his temple. He raised his head slightly and you could have sworn you saw tears in his eyes.

You wish he'd asked you sooner. You wished you knew first what Dean really needed. He nodded again and closed his eyes as you left another kiss on his forehead.

"Can I keep doing that?" You asked.

He nodded. "Don't stop, please." He whispered. You couldn't help but think he looked like a puppy who, after years of lovelessness, just wanted to be cuddled.

You gently placed your lips on his cheek, on his jaw and then again on his forehead and temple.

"I love you. And I care about you. You know that right? I think I should tell you more often." You said, your voice almost a whisper. You felt Dean's warm hand running up and down your back, like you did before.

"Thank you." He said eventually. "I love you too."

You wanted to tell him you loved him more than a friend. That you cared about him more than a friend. But that was not the right time. Maybe one day you would, maybe even soon. For the moment you just had to hold him tight.

"Is it okay for you if I stay here tonight?" You asked.

"Yes. You can... please stay." He answered, his voice low.

You lay still holding Dean tight to your body, his arms around you. He rested his head on your chest.

"Goodnight De." You whispered after a few minutes, running your fingers through his hair one last time.

"'Night Y/N." He replied before falling asleep in your arms.

That night, you found a new side of Dean. Probably a side that had been there for a long time and was just hidden, probably a side that you were the first person to see, you thought before falling asleep, mentally promising Dean to hold his hand, leave kisses on his face and hug him more often.

He deserved it. He needed it.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Tags: @eevvvaa @spn730015 @supernatural111222 @youcancallmelily @clairenovakanddeanwinchester @dads-on-a-hunting-trip @3amstillawake @supernaturalmess @marvelandsupernatural @agirlwatchingalotoftvshows @candy-coated-misery0731

[konigbabe-interact]

drinking game gone wrong

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Word count: 3.6k

Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; oral sex; fingering; top!dean; MOC dean; p-in-v sex; drunk sex; cunnilingus; unprotected sex; gendered female reader; gendered female anatomy

Summary: You and Dean give into each other after months of mutual pining with the help of the Mark.

Currently only active as @konigbabe.

The heat radiating between you was undeniable, and you felt yourself getting lost in the moment as you tangled your hands in his hair. His lips met yours in a passionate kiss, the taste of your desire still lingering on his tongue as it explored your mouth. His hands moved to your waist, caressing your curves and igniting a fire that seemed to consume you both.

“No,” Dean bellowed, his voice reverberating off the walls. The room seemed to heat up from the intensity of his anger as he threw a book at the wall, the hard edges creating a sizable dent. "There has to be a way, Cas," he added, the desperation in his tone palpable.

Sam and you exchanged a tired look; this was one of the numerous times Dean erupted in anger within a day. The Mark of Cain was taking its toll on him; it was becoming more challenging to keep his temper in check. You all knew that you had to find a cur. Soon. Before Dean's condition deteriorated even further.

“I am sorry, Dean. I understand how frustrating this must be for you. I know about a grimoire that could possibly contain a spell that could help. I'll do my best to look for it and try to find it as soon as possible, “ with that, Cas disappeared; leaving Dean completely frustrated, Sam and you both at a loss for what the next step should be.

In the end, Sam suggested they call it a night, but the look on Dean's face could have killed him if looks could kill. After a few minutes of tense and uncomfortable silence, it was blatantly apparent that the brothers were in need of some breathing room and a little bit of space between them; especially on Dean’s side.

Sam gazed at you with a hopeful expression, as if hoping for some sort of agreement, yet you offered no response. He nodded solemnly, rose with a heavy breath, and bade his farewell, vanishing from the room. You were left alone with Dean, whose head was already buried in a magical tome, oblivious to the stifling quiet that had descended between you.

Rising from your seat, you ventured to the kitchen, grasping two glasses and a bottle of aged scotch. Returning to Dean, who sat across the table, you placed a full glass before him, filling it with the amber-colored liquor.

Dean looked up from the book, his gaze on the liquor before he shoot you a look of disinterest; then he continued reading it without giving it a second thought.

“M’not interested, we have more important things to do,” he dismissed your offering, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Come on, Dean," you implored, your voice gentle with understanding.

"Just this one night and I promise we'll get back to the research tomorrow. But can't you, just for one night, take a break and enjoy yourself? I'm asking you as a friend, please," you pleaded, your gaze sincere. You could tell he was struggling with his decision, and you gave him the chance to think it through.

Finally, he sighed and took the glass in his hand.

“Just one night," he replied, his voice heavy and weary. He downed the liquor inside and you knew, despite the somberness of the situation, that you had won the battle.

"Just one night. Nothing more," he said and took the glass in his hand, ready to swallow the liquor inside. You stopped him from drinking, looking him in the eye with a knowing smirk, "Just drinking is mundane. What about a game? Spice up the night?"

He paused, considering the suggestion, then set the glass back on the table.

“All right. I'm game. What did you have in mind?” his voice had a slight edge of amusement, a sign of his willingness to go along with the suggestion and make the most of the night.

"Two truths and a lie," you suggested, Dean's eyes crinkling with mirthful delight. He smiled knowingly, his eyes sparkling with mischievousness. "This should be interesting," he said, his baritone voice taking on a more serious tone.

You watched as his expression turned thoughtful, his brow furrowing with concentration as he gathered his thoughts. He leaned forward, the light of the crackling fire reflecting in his eyes as he began to speak.

You could almost feel the anticipation radiating from him as he waited for you to start. He seemed to be studying you as if he could see into your soul. Taking a deep breath, you started, your words filling the space between you with a sense of mystery. Dean remained silent, his face betraying no hints of what he was thinking. As you made your way through the game, the atmosphere in the room slowly shifted, becoming more inviting and intimate.

It was now Dean’s turn, and the expectation weighed heavily in the air. Dean cleared his throat, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“My first truth is that I’m allergic to cats,” he said, “my second is that I have a fear of heights,” the sparkle that shimmered in his gaze was echoed by the bright blue of the ocean. He looked deep into your eyes, the sparkle in his own intensifying, and a feeling of anticipation in the air. Leaning forward, he rested on his elbows as he whispered softly,

“But the third truth I’m not so sure I’m ready to tell you,” he said, his voice soft and inviting.

“What is it?” you asked, feeling the warmth of his presence.

“The third truth is that I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day we met,” his voice inviting, gaze never leaving yours, “I think it’s time I finally do.”

Your heart raced as Dean's piercing gaze met yours, and his voice, so seductive, only made the tightness in your chest grow.

“Dean, I don’t think that’s the best idea,” you breathed, but the atmosphere around you was charged with electricity. He was devouring you with his eyes and you felt the heat of his breath caress your skin; he inched closer to the table between you, his face dangerously close to yours.

You could feel the anticipation of his lips on yours. Finding yourself leaning in, longing for the kiss you both knew was coming; your brain turning into a cloud of haze. Knowing well enough once you overstep this line, there was no coming back. The liquor heating your chest; warming your heart, you felt the invisible threat pulling you towards the man opposite you.

And at that moment, all that was left was the possibility of what could be, of what you wanted more than anything.

“Dean,” you swallowed. His eyes met yours, dark and piercing, lips curving into a knowing smirk. You wanted him. You wanted to feel his body against yours, his lips on your skin, exploring every inch of you. You wanted to be taken away by his touch, lost in a world of pleasure and desire. You wanted him, and you knew he wanted you, too.

The air around you seemed to hum with electricity, and neither of you moved. The tension was palpable, and you could feel the heat radiating off of his body. Your heart raced and you felt dizzy with anticipation.

Finally, he stepped closer to you, a hand reaching out to brush your cheek. You shivered at the contact, and he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice low and commanding.

You nodded, unable to form the words in your mouth.

“Say it,” Dean repeated himself.

All you could manage was a breathless, "Yes; yes, I want this."

He smiled, and you felt his lips press against yours. The kiss was electric, filled with raw desire.

Desire; spreading through your body like a raging storm. It consumed you; the intensity of it leaving you breathless. You felt it in your core, radiating outward to your fingertips. Every inch of you was alive, awash in passion and yearning. You wanted to be touched, to be loved, to be taken. You wanted to let go and give in to the sweet, sweet bliss of pleasure Dean was offering.

You felt yourself melting into him, lost in the moment. You knew you wouldn't be the same after this.

His hands trailed across your curves, a spark of heat igniting your soul. Your thoughts were a blur, nothing but him consuming your mind as seconds felt like an eternity. The hard, cold material of Dean's mattress pressed against your back, and you felt a primal connection, one that shook you to your core. His hands moved with purpose as they explored your body, the heat of his touch sending waves of pleasure through your veins. The moment felt like a dream, a dream that you never wanted to wake up from. His hands were like a whisper, a silent command to surrender to the pleasure he was giving you. You felt yourself yearning for more, the intensity of the moment making you desperate for his touch. You felt yourself becoming lost in the sensations, a blissful surrender that left you trembling and wanting more.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured against your skin before kissing your neck again. The sensation sent shivers through your body and you couldn't help but moan in delight. He slowly unclipped your bra, revealing your bare breasts to him. Dean wasted no time in taking one of your nipples in his mouth, igniting a flame within your core. Heat radiated from him as he pleasured you in the way he had always wanted to.

You grabbed a hold of his hair, pushing his face further into your body as you gasped for breath. His hands glided down your body, teasing and exploring until he finally found your sweet spot. You moaned louder, your body trembling in pleasure as his fingers worked their magic. You wanted him more than anything, and he wanted you too.

Dean’s touch was electric, sending sparks of desire through your veins as he ran his hands over your curves. Moans filled the room; he moved lower and lower, each touch more heated than the last, tongue dipping in your belly button before his lips met the lines of your pants. His breath was warm on your skin as he unhooked the button of your jeans; hands tugging at the fabric, pulling them off in one swift motion.

You gasped as he kissed your thighs, feeling the warmth of his lips move on your heated flesh. Dean’s fingers moved expertly, exploring every inch of your body with passionate purpose.

His name left your lips in a quiet but desperate whimper, feeling his fingers trace the middle of your soaked underwear, fingers circling your caching nub through your underwear.

“What do you me to do?” Dean's eyes smoldered as he looked up at you from between your quivering thighs, his arms securely tucked beneath you as your heels dug into his back; his words hang in the air, heavy with desire.

“I-, want your tongue,” you exhaled; your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt his hot breath on your wet core.

“To do what?” he pushed, voice deep and husky, eyes laced with mischief.

A shiver ran down your spine, goosebumps rising on your skin as your hands gripped the fumbled sheets.

“Taste me,” you whispered, a hand coming up to tangle in his hair as you drew his head closer to you.

“With passion,” he murmured against your center, tongue flicking out to tease you. The material of your underwear was dripping with your juices by the time Dean finally took it off. He moved with confidence, and you were lost in it, in him.

A cold breeze hit your soaked pussy before Dean’s tongue laid flat against the whole center, nose brushing against your clit as he devoured you like a man starved. Gasping for air like there was never enough oxygen, he licked and kissed you in slow, gentle circles, his tongue exploring your edges; curiosity taking over him.

Moaning softly into the room with your hand groping his hair for dear life, Dean sucked at your sensitive bud, the scrape of his finger on your inner walls sending a heatwave through you.

He kept up this slow, gentle rhythm for some time, making sure to pay attention to every single reaction of yours; adjusting his technique according to your reactions.

The room was filled with the smell of your arousal as he slipped a finger inside, gently caressing your velvet walls. His breath quickened as he felt your tightness around his finger, his cock pulsing in anticipation of what was to come. He teased and tantalized you, pushing you to the brink of ecstasy; each stroke sending you higher until you were begging for more. Dean obliged, surging inside of you in a powerful wave of pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby,” his words demanded, sending you over the edge.

When you finally peaked, he didn't stop; Dean kept working you through your orgasm, lapping at your juices as you laid in blissful exhaustion.

Dean's lips moved hungrily along your body, sending waves of pleasure through you. His tongue flicked and teased your sensitive flesh, lingering in the areas that made you moan with delight. The heat radiating between you was undeniable, and you felt yourself getting lost in the moment as you tangled your hands in his hair. His lips met yours in a passionate kiss, the taste of your desire still lingering on his tongue as it explored your mouth. His hands moved to your waist, caressing your curves and igniting a fire that seemed to consume you both. You felt his arousal pushing against you as you surrendered to the pleasure of his touch.

You pushed him onto his back, straddling his lap as you pounced on him. He moaned as you pressed your lips to his, tasting the sweet mixture of your desire again. His hands moved up and down your back, sending sparks of heat through you as he deepened the kiss; his hard arousal pressed against you. You finally pulled away, smiling as you looked into his eyes, both of you lost in the moment.

Dean’s hands moved to your hips, gripping them firmly as he moved you against him, the sensations of pleasure overwhelming you. He leaned in again, his lips trailing a path of fire down your neck as he whispered in your ear, “ride me.”

You shivered in response, knowing that this night was going to be filled with pleasure that you’d never felt before; you knew that no matter what happened tonight, it was going to be something you would never forget.

“Want to taste you too,” you murmured as his lips found yours again; you melted into his kiss as he explored your mouth with his tongue.

“Another time,” he said as his lips left yours, “but not tonight.”

Dean looked into your eyes, his gaze penetrating and intense; a rush of desire coursing through your veins. His hands gripping yours, he pulled them up to the neck of his shirt, inviting you to take it off and reveal the sculpted flesh of his torso, the anti-possession tattoo decorating his chest. As the fabric pooled onto the floor, you ran your hands along the contours of his body, eagerly seeking the skin to skin contact. His lips locked with yours, the urgency of his kiss sending heat through your body.

He pulled you aside, eagerly discarding the remaining items of clothing left on his body; his gaze searing into yours as his cock sprang free from its restraints, the head looking achingly engorged as the light reflected off the drop of precum. You could feel your desire for him growing with every passing moment; craving to feel him inside of you.

Something feral, almost instinctive, took over you; carnal impulses compelling you to take a seat atop him, locking his cock between your bodies; your fingers dancing over his length, savoring the slickness of his precum as his lips left a trail of hungry kisses down your neck; it felt animalistic, the two of you, consumed by each other's lust.

His fingers left a scorching, passionate imprint on your skin, like a brand that would never fade away. He made you feel alive and wanted, claiming your body and soul with his passionate touch. You could feel yourself melting under his gaze as he claimed every last inch of you, leaving you longing for more.

“Condom?” he asked, voice thick with desire. You shook your head, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks.

“Pill,” you whispered.

Dean chuckled, his eyes smoldering with desire as he let his fingers trace the curves of your hips.

“Good,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “I was hoping you'd say that.”

Bracing your thighs on each side of his hips, you lifted yourself up, hand aligning his cock with your entrance. Your skin prickled with anticipation as you straddled him, the heat between your legs electrifying.

The spongy head of him opening your entrance, welcoming him in as a grunt left his kiss-bruised lips, pressed against your throat. Pausing; savoring the sensation of him for a moment, you stilled before lowering down onto him, feeling every inch of his thickness fill you up.

“Fuck,” he cursed, “your pussy was made for me.”

With your hand on his chest, you could feel Dean's heart pounding against your palm as you stayed seated on his cock, the thick length of him pressing against your womb; and he could feel it too, your heat sucking him in.

Another curse left his lips, “you need to start moving, baby.”

Your body was completely under his demand; moving in a steady rhythm, hips swaying in time with his. You could feel the heat radiating between your bodies, a crescendo of pleasure building as your movements increased in intensity.

Your hips moved in slow circles. Dean’s hands moved from your hips to your lower back, pulling you closer to him. Moans and grunts mixed together, the room’s temperature rising, the explicit sounds of your wetness shamelessly filling the quiet night.

Hands on his thighs, leaning back, Dean’s gaze shifted to the place you were connected; he watched you take him in, your slick walls spread wide to accommodate his size, his cock completely soaked by your wetness as the mix of your arousal dripped on his lap.

Leaning down, you kissed the man deeply, tongues entwining in a passionate embrace as his hands gripped your breasts, fondling and playing with the soft flesh. Arching your back, you pushed to create more friction between your bodies before Dean’s hand moved to your achingly longing nub of nerves, spreading your juices over it while he toyed with it.

His breaths grew heavier, your moans louder as you both moved together in an unstoppable, passionate dance. Your body rocked and writhed as he drove you to the brink of ecstasy, and when he finally let you reach the peak of pleasure, you opened your mouth in a silent scream of pure delight. Dean's touch had been like a drug, and now you were completely addicted.

His hips continued to thrust upwards, riding you through your high as his stare stayed locked on your body; he admired you, devouring every detail of your body with his eyes. The stretch marks on your thighs, the noticeable stab wound on your stomach from the witch hunt you went on a few months ago that he wanted to kiss away, or the small bird tattoo under your right breast that made him want to trace with his tongue. He wanted to remember every part of you, to be able to recall each detail and feel the same desire he did now, if not more.

Dean slowly raised himself up and pulled you into his arms, his lips on yours before you could even take a breath. His tongue caressed your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you eagerly obliged, granting him access to explore your mouth to its fullest. His fingers sought out the curves of your body, exploring and inviting a passionate response from you.

You felt Dean's cock swell inside you as his breath became ragged; knowing he was near, you ground your hips into him, keeping him deep within your walls, reveling in the feeling of his head kissing your insides. The intensity of the sensations was almost too much to bear, but you welcomed it, wanting to feel every inch of him.

The feel of his hot, pulsing cock inside of you made your inner walls quiver with pleasure, a low moan of delight escaping your lips as Dean's thrusts became more erratic and urgent. His head burrowed into your chest, warm breath fanning between your breasts as his hands clutched your hips, pushing himself even deeper into you. His body trembled as his climax neared, his moans intensifying as the waves of pleasure took over. Finally, with a loud grunt, Dean released his hot seed deep inside of you, his trembling body almost collapsing into yours.

Both of you stayed still for a moment as you could feel the cum slowly dripping out, staining Dean’s thighs. Your breathing filled the silence, and then Dean reached out and ran his fingers along the length of your arm, sending shivers of pleasure through your body; his touch gentle.

He pulled you closer, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body as his lips brushed yours softly; it was like a silent understanding - you both knew that everything changed at this moment.

[happilyfeatherafter]

Happilyfeatherafter’s ficrec Fridays

Happy Dean Winchester's 45th birthday week, and happy Friday! I was absolutely blown away by everyone's incredible posts for Dean this week, you guys. It made me all emotional.

Back with my fourth week of fics I've read and loved recently. If you missed last week’s you can find my previous rec lists here for more!

26 January 2024

american oracle by @handsliketruth and whiskeyjuniper (@satinsolace) I spent all last Sunday reading this one and it was such an immersive experience! An earthquake shakes something loose in the bunker, seemingly trapping Dean, Cas and Sam inside with it as they attempt to fix what's gone wrong, only the bunker isn't going to make it easy for them! Super creepy, twisty, reality bending and really beautifully, unsettlingly written. Whatever's happened is messing with their minds, and the creeping horror of real or not real persists, but even through that the Dean and Cas of it are really fascinating in how they navigate their intense feelings for each other. I was also incredibly impressed with how the effects of canon wrapping up were woven into the plot in such a powerfully potent way, exploring fate, free will, and the future. Really a stand out (and I know a lot of you have been reading it because I found this fic open in no less than three separate tabs in my bookmarks when I came to read it myself. So adding one more rec to the pile!)

Slouching Towards Bethlehem by @norahastuff (art by @logsdrawsthings) is a brilliant and seamlessly written missing conversations DCBB fic set in seasons 4 and 5. The dialogue is so on point for that era Dean and Cas, at times I had to remind myself what came from the show and what was brand new. As they navigate their way towards the apocalypse, and Cas watches over Dean in reality and in dreams, it seems hard to find solace. But in getting to know one another better, they both question their parts in the grand plan, and also find peace, connection, and company in their deepening bond.

A Fic About Dean’s 45th Birthday by @scoobydoodean both does exactly what it says on the tin AND made me cry lol. After Mrs Butters plants the seed in his head that he's too old to celebrate his birthday, Dean gets a little upset, but he doesn't let on to anyone. The poor man just wants to be appreciated and celebrated on his birthday! But he feels guilty about causing a fuss, and anyway, he can still show his love through making sure everyone else's days are marked for the occasion. But on his 45th, his family is acting a little suspicious, and they seem to want him to stay away. Angsty, sweet, give that man his krispy treats!!!! Check out Dean with Scoobies.

found it here in your love by nevernevergirl (@yorkesteins) is another Dean's birthday ficlet, but taking a 180 spin on it. Cas has plans. LOTS of plans. Dean deserves to be celebrated. But some pesky snow has derailed Cas' thoughtfulness, and despite his best intentions he's awfully upset about letting Dean down. "In which learning to live your life after nearly two decades of saving the actual world is a process. They're doing it together, though." Sweet, domestic, heartwarming love (even when there's a tantrum involved.)

Plus shout out to @angelsdean's I spy Dean's birthday game, @dean-isms's birthday party watchlist, and ALL of the incredible fic, art, AMVs and edits you made. TALENT.

[soaringeag1e]

Escape {70} Final

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader

Warnings: Language, A Tad Bit of Sadness, Fluff

Words: 2,114

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Patreon

The cold weather wasn’t as extreme as it has been in the past, but today was definitely one of the nicest since the flowers had bloomed and the trees were filling out. A perfect day to have off work, especially with you.

You had wanted to go out and enjoy a nice lunch somewhere, preferably a place with outside seating so the two of you could enjoy the day, and Dean knew exactly where to go. It was a nice little place just up the street from the precinct, the balcony out back was blocked by trees, shielding everyone from the streets and giving a nice intimate setting. Plus, now that everything was filling out and the flowers were splashing the town with color, it was the best place to spend such a beautiful afternoon.

Between everything that has happened in the last year, from almost losing you to practically his own life ending in the hospital and then actually losing his best friend just to turn around and get married and then go back to work after calling it quits for awhile, this felt like the first time in a long time that Dean was able to take a solid breath and not have to rush off and do something else. Plus, looking across the table at you and seeing the way your hair shined under the rays of the sun and the way your eyes seemed so vibrant, he feels like he hasn’t been able to enjoy your beauty for awhile either. Something that tore at his heart a bit.

“You’re so beautiful.” he slips, saying it out loud when all he was doing was thinking it. When your eyes lock with his and your smile shines he has to remind himself to breathe. It’s like having a first date with you all over again, but now you’re his wife. Something he still can’t believe.

Your cheeks darken and your head ducks a bit as you try to hide the blush. You busy yourself with grabbing your napkin from the table and placing it in your lap and it seemed to be just in time too. Just as you did, the waitress came out with your dishes. You had ordered some pasta dish that Dean was now kind of regretting he didn’t get and he had fallen in his usual hole of ordering a juicy burger with extra onions.

“That looks good.” he comments, nodding towards your bowl before snatching a fry from his plate.

“You want to try some?” As you grab your fork and spear a bit of everything, Dean shakes his head, not wanting to steal your food from you. But you’re not taking no for an answer. Cradling your hand under the fork so as to not lose anything, you reach across the table so he can have a bite.

The second it lands on his tongue he’s in love. The flavor is ridiculous and he’s trying so hard to savor the bite. If his burger is half as good as your pasta, then he can’t wait to attack it.

“Good?” All Dean can do is make satisfied groans which of course makes you giggle, getting him to open his eyes again and look at you.

“So good.” he adds when he finally swallows the bite down. He takes another fry from his plate and then he is so ready to grab that burger and sink his teeth into it, but before he can pick it up, he catches another glimpse of you and it has him hold off for another moment. “You okay?”

“Yeah!” you answer with a bit of a startle, but you’re smiling. “Yeah, I’m fine.” A small chuckle comes from you, but Dean picks up the nervousness in it and his concern grows a bit more. “I um…I have something for you.” When you reach for your bag Dean is instantly trying to think of what you could possibly have for him, but the entire thing has caught him off guard. “I was going to wait until after we ate, but…” you pause as you struggle to remove whatever it is from your purse. “I just don’t think I can wait any longer.” you tell him as you hand off a thin square box.

He looks at it briefly before taking it from you, his mind racing on why you got him something. Did some special occasion pass? First date? Some new holiday that he didn’t know about? Was he about to be in the dog house for forgetting something important?

Slowly pulling at the ribbon, the string comes loose and he goes to lift the lid on the box. A card sits on top and it isn’t until he picks it up that he becomes even more confused.

Happy Father’s Day

He has to read over the words again, his heart racing a bit more as his brain begins to figure out why he’s getting this from you. He looks up to question you, but his eyes catch the next thing in the box before he can. 

His hand trembles as he sets the card aside and then grabs the soft material. Lifting it, it unfolds and falls open to reveal blue stitches. 

My Hero wears a badge 

I call him Daddy

The little shirt could seriously be worn on his hand, it was so little. But his heart swelled and without realizing, tears sprung to his eyes.

Again, before he can acknowledge you, he sees another object in the box. A small black and white, grainy picture. No perfect outline of a baby yet, but seeing as you don’t even look pregnant he can only assume you’re not too far along.

“I would’ve told you earlier but I just didn’t know how to. I’m sorry.” you finally speak, making his emotions a little more fierce. He nods lightly, gnawing on his bottom lip as he tries to hold it all in. “That’s why I’ve been so exhausted lately.” you giggle and that’s when Dean gets out of his chair and comes around to you. His hands lightly pull on yours and pull you up from your seat and that’s when he wraps his arms around you. His lips find your cheek and he just holds you for a minute before whispering.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” That’s when he pulls away, his eyes glistening but his smile beaming even brighter. He seems like he wants to say something, but it just doesn’t come out, so he just leans in and kisses you instead.

You’re not sure how long it lasted, but he rested his forehead against yours, telling you how happy he was and how much he loved you before his phone went off. He wanted to ignore it, but you could tell by the regret in his eyes that he just couldn’t.

“Just give me a sec, okay?” You give him a nod of understanding, taking your seat again as he steps away and giving himself privacy.

A heavy breath releases from your chest, one of relief since you’ve been holding this in for so long. At least it felt like a long time. You hated keeping it from him, but you just weren’t sure how to tell him and you just couldn’t stop overthinking it.

Watching Dean pace around while talking on the phone, you eventually get your own alert on your phone. You catch a glimpse of the text before it clears from your screen, smiling softly when you see that Sarah was checking in on you. She had been keeping up with you of course, being your confidant with all this and she knew how nervous you were for not only telling Dean but for what the future held for you now that you were pregnant. Being a first time mom and not planning on it, it definitely freaked you out. But she was definitely a great rock for you up to this point.

How’s it goin?

Another breath of relief leaves your body, taking some more stress with it as you text her back.

Wonderful 

-

2 Years Later

The chill in the air was almost comforting so Dean was in no hurry to get back to the car. Looking over the engraved letters and numbers, memories flashed in his brain. Some happy and others not so much. He tried not to think back to the last day Eddie was on this earth, but it was hard not to. Seeing that date, he just remembered looking for you and then knowing that while he was dying on the ground in the barn, Eddie was out in the woods, protecting you.

Little scuffles got him clearing his throat and quickly wiping at his eyes before looking over and smiling at the toddler waddling in his direction. Walking was a skill that was mastered about a year prior, but being so little, walking through thick damp grass was something the little one took a bit slower.

“Hey, buddy.” His little arms reached out for his dad, making all three smiles grow. But the little one only remained in his dads arms briefly before moving over to the stone sticking up from the ground. His little hands grabbed the rocky top and he held on for a minute before he laid his head down on it, almost like he was giving the stone a hug,

Dean's heart exploded with happiness and a small amount of heartbreak. There wasn’t a day that went by that Dean didn’t wish Eddie was there to work alongside him again and then after his son was born, he wished he was there to be another loving uncle in his life. But this was the closest the two would get to each other and that's what hurt him the most.

“Awe. You giving uncle Eddie a hug?” you say with a smile, walking up to the two boys. Dean looks up, his smile growing as he looks you over. Your hand runs over your slightly swollen belly as you grin at your son who is now wrapping his little arms around the top of the stone. “That’s so sweet.” It’s then that the boy pulls away, but only enough to now kiss the rock. It was definitely hard for Dean to hold himself together then, but he did. “Yep. We love you, huh?” When you squat down next to Dean, your son walks up to you, letting you take him in your arms while the three of you visit your fallen friend. A few minutes go by when your hand runs over Dean’s back and you smile at him.

“We’ll wait for you in the car?” Dean slowly nods, smiling at the two of you. “Okay. Come on, sweetie. Let’s give daddy a minute.” As you get to your feet, the boy leans over your shoulder, watching his dad while you both walk away.

“I wish you were here.” Dean finally whispers. His eyes still on you as you buckle your son in his carseat. “It’s weird because he reminds me of you.” he says as he turns back to the stone, a soft chuckle escaping him. “At first I thought it was just because we named him after you, but…that’s not it. Makes me wonder if you’re watching over him more than I think.” he laughs again and then takes a breath. “Well,” he says, wiping the dirt off the base of the stone. “Happy birthday, man.” 

Looking over his friends name one more time, Dean gets to his feet, holding onto the stone for balance at first, but for comfort after the fact. His hand pats the rigid rock, taking another moment before walking away and heading for the car.

Dean made it a priority to go and see Eddie’s grave every week. It’s just what he thought his friend deserved, especially after what he had done for you. But if a holiday rolled around, sometimes that one trip would turn to two. 

Dean felt like that’s the least he could do. He felt like he owed him his own life because if it wasn’t for him Dean would have lost you and he would have never gotten married, never had his gorgeous son and never would be living the perfect life he was right now. He had everything he ever dreamed of and it was because of Eddie that he had it.

There was no way he could repay Eddie for saving you that terrible night, but he definitely didn’t let a day go by where he didn’t talk to his friend and thank him for what he did and he never would.

[rizlowwritessortof]

Worth It

This was written for @stusbunker Stu's Sinema Challenge. My Deadly Sin was Envy, quote is in bold in the fic.

Of course Dean doesn't mind if you go hang out with some guy you knew in your civilian life. You know, the kind of life he never had. It's fine.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4,174

Warnings: Smut, Oral (male & female receiving), swearing - you know, the usual 😊

The air is thick with the smell of sweat, blood and death. You, Sam and Dean are back to back to back in the middle of the room, most of the nest lying scattered around you. Dean lunges forward and slices another vamp across the chest, then swings his machete in a hard downward stroke, taking the monster’s head and sending it rolling across the floor.

He turns as you take on the last one standing. The furious creature hisses, running at you, and Dean watches in admiration as you whirl and slash in a graceful, macabre dance of blade and blood, sending the undead thing to Purgatory. “Fuck me, nice move,” he says, and you turn, wiping a smear of blood from your cheek.

“Thanks!” you answer with a bright smile. Dean’s stare is like a physical touch, and your smile slowly fades, something primitive crackling in the air between you. Then Sam speaks and the spell is broken.

“You got the last one, I guess Dean’s buying!” he laughs, and Dean huffs as he turns to wipe the blade of his machete on a bale of hay.

“I don’t know why I bet with you,” he grumbles, and you laugh.

“Hey, it was your idea, champ.” You grin even wider at his grumpiness, digging a little more. “I’m feeling really thirsty, too.”

His lips twitch as he smothers a smile, reluctant to give in that easily. “Yeah, yeah. I pay my bets. Let’s burn this dump and get outta here. I could use a beer or six myself.”

You hit your room almost running, anxious to get showered and hit the bar, conveniently located right across the two-lane highway from your motel. You feel alive, a buzzing just beneath your skin - adrenaline and something else, something that’s making you feel a little reckless. You push down the memory of Dean’s expression back in the barn, staring at you like he was just as hungry as those vamps. That’s something you don’t allow yourself to think about, so you focus on the night ahead, hoping there will be some pretty local boy in that place who’s in the mood to get lucky. And who hopefully has the skills to make you get lucky.

The three of you walk into the local dive together, eyes adjusting quickly to the dim, cloudy lighting. Dean heads to the bar to grab some beers as you and Sam stake out a table, waiting for the night’s benefactor to return with the reward for your victory.

He’s smiling as he arrives, handing you an icy longneck with an exaggerated bow and holding his out as you all toast together. “Hate to admit it, but that last move of yours – you deserved to win. This time.”

“Awwww… thanks, you big teddy bear, you.”

“All right, all right,” he grumbles, but he’s smiling and you know he likes it when you call him sweet names, even if he’d never admit it.

Sam is staring towards the bar, and you turn to look. “Oh, Sammy – bartender’s kinda cute, and she’s looking at you!” you tease, and he blushes a little, his dimples flashing as he shakes his head with a grin.

“Shut up, half-pint.”

“Want me to introduce you?” Dean jabs at his brother, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“No. Both of you, get drunk and stupid and do what you do, I can take care of my own shit.” He grabs his beer and heads for the bar, taking a seat and striking up a conversation with the cute brunette.

“Kind of dead in here. Wanna shoot some pool? Maybe you can win something tonight!” You head for the back of the room, Dean following you with a smirk.

“Gloat away, smartass – I’d love to teach you a lesson.”

The two of you play a couple of games, exchanging snarky comments and sexual innuendos as usual accompanied by laughter and more beer. Around 9 pm a small group of guys walk in, and you glance up, followed by an ‘Oh, my god… I don’t believe it.”

“What?” Dean asked, taking his shot, standing when he finishes to look towards where your stare is aimed.

“I know those guys. Well, a couple of them.”

“Oh, yeah – you grew up around here somewhere, didn’t you?”

“I went to high school a couple of towns over. Still, never thought I’d see anybody I knew. I’m gonna go over and say hi. You don’t mind, do you?”

Dean shrugs, shaking his head, turning his attention back to the pool table, one eye on you as you approach the group of twenty-somethings. Of course he doesn’t mind, why should he mind? That self-destructive, uncomfortable feeling is kicking up in his gut, the one that whispers that he doesn’t fit in, that he’s a freak who will never have anything those kind of people have and take for granted. He’s lived with it for years, every time Dad moved him and Sam to a new town, a new school. The armor he’s always worn - the snarky, smart-ass attitude, the I-don’t-give-a-shit bad boy persona – that was its origin, developed and thickened like a scar to keep that fucking feeling from overwhelming him. It’s never so bad when he has backup, which is usually you and Sam, but Sam is busy flirting with the bartender and now you’re talking and laughing with the locals. Guys who got to grow up like normal kids, go to high school, take girls out to movies and proms, have family dinners and vacations. And what makes it all worse is that he tells himself, tells Sam, that the kind of life people like that live would drive him crazy – but the truth is, deep down, that’s what he’s always wished for.

Dean watches as Sam catches his eye with a little wave. He’s on his way out with that cute little brunette, and Dean nods in reply. Guess he’ll be sleeping in the car tonight. He thinks about finishing his beer and leaving, too – instead of watching you flirt and laugh with the normals, probably hook up with one. He thinks about taking Baby and going for a drive, parking out in the country somewhere to sleep so he doesn’t have to see who you bring back to your room with you.

Where the hell did that come from? Not like the two of you have ever even thought about hooking up. Ok, that’s a fucking lie, he thinks about it all the time – just has never allowed himself to actually make a move. Besides, he knows how it would end up. Like things always end up for him. But tonight, watching you with those guys – it’s hitting harder than usual.

The sound of your laughter makes him clench his teeth, and he clears the pool table with a series of forceful shots, one right after the other. An older man comes strolling over to challenge him, and Dean accepts, telling him to rack ‘em up as he grabs another drink. He does a shot of whiskey before taking his beer back to the table. Ok, might as well make a little money, pay for the drinks and maybe make a little gas money. It has nothing to do with keeping an eye on you. He ignores the voice inside him that tells him he’s full of shit.

You’re really enjoying yourself, laughing and talking, reminiscing about high school (which is the last time you saw these guys). Kurt, the one you really remember, is looking good, and apparently the feeling is mutual – he keeps touching you, hand on your shoulder, brushing your hair back, occasionally slipping an arm around your waist. You actually dated him a few times, and you’ve had enough beer and tequila shooters that your edges are softening and your walls are a little wobbly. After all, you were kind of looking to blow off some steam tonight, right?

You glance over at Dean when a little pang of guilt digs at you, but he’s focused on beating some guy at a game of pool, so you push it down and turn back to Kurt. His two buddies are restless, no other prospects for them to focus on. They all head for the bathroom in the back, and you order another beer, letting your eyes wander back towards Dean. He’s heading that direction, too, so you lean back on the bar and nurse your drink. Just want enough to keep the buzz going, keep that pleasant, blurry, happy glow.

You watch Dean come back into the bar, his face stormy. He doesn’t even glance your direction, and you wonder what’s going on with him. He’s probably pissed that you ditched him for some local dude, but you’re allowed to have some fun, right? I mean, you guys can hang out anytime.

Kurt comes back, his buddies vaguely mumbling ‘nice to see you’ and ‘catch you later’ as they head out for greener pastures. Kurt’s staying, so you smile, and he leans in to kiss you as he waits for his beer. It’s nice, not earth-shattering, but beggars can’t be choosers, and you’re to the point of settling in for the night. He’s cute, and he’s obviously interested, and it’s better than the vibrator in your bag at the motel, right? You tell him you’re heading for the little girls’ room, and he kisses you again, letting his hand roam a little, down over your hip, a little squeeze. You leave him with a little smirk, walking to the back hall and into the bathroom.

You wash up, check your hair, decide you don’t look bad for being half wasted, and head out. Dean is standing there, one shoulder propped against the wall by the door. “You know he’s a piece of shit, right?”

You roll your eyes. “You always think any guy I’m with is a piece of shit, Dean.”

He has his mouth held all tight, those little dimples above the corners of his mouth prominent. “Yeah, well, he really is. You didn’t hear him in the bathroom before telling his douchebag friends how he was gonna be balls deep inside you by midnight.”

You glare back at him, instantly pissed off. At Kurt, for being that guy, and at Dean for pointing it out. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s right where I want him.”

Before you can blink, your back is against the wall and Dean’s lips are crushed to yours, his hands gripping your arms hard enough to leave bruises. Your body betrays you, your brain shuts down, and for a few seconds you respond to his touch, the feel of his hard body pressing you into the wall, his lips at once soft and demanding. When you breathe again, your temper flares and you shove him hard, forcing him a step back as your eyes fire lasers at him. “What the fuck, Dean?”

“He doesn’t even know you. He has no idea what you’ve been through, who you are now. He doesn’t deserve to be with you.”

You are even more pissed off when you feel tears stinging your eyes. “First of all, not planning to marry him and have his children. Second of all – none of your goddamn business.” You turn on your heel and leave him standing there, heading out to the bar, reaching for your beer and draining it in one go. You order another, ignoring Kurt’s questions about what’s wrong. “I’m fine. Where were we?” you say, refusing to watch as Dean drops a wad of bills on the bar to pay the tab and stalks towards the door, which closes with a slam as he leaves.

Kurt tries valiantly to get your mood back to where it was before you left the room, you’ll give him an A for effort. But you finally have enough and turn to face him with a tight smile. “Sorry, Kurt, I’m gonna have to take off. Great to see you again.”

“Awww, don’t go. I was hoping…”

“To be balls deep inside me by midnight? Yeah, I heard.” You pat your hand firmly against his chest. “It’s okay, I’m sure you’re more than capable of taking care of that little problem yourself. You’ve probably had a lot of practice. See ya.” You head for the door and don’t look back to see the look on his face, but you can imagine it clearly. You smother a smile as you leave the bar, but it completely fades when you look across the way and see Dean leaning against the Impala, his head tipped back as he drinks from his flask.

“Oh, well – fuck it,” you mutter, squaring your shoulders and striding across the asphalt to reach the parking lot. Dean looks up as your boots crunch in the gravel, then looks back down, avoiding your eyes.

“Where’s the used-to-be frat boy,” he asks as you stop in front of him.

“Licking his wounds, I imagine.” He looks up, wanting to ask, but keeps his mouth clamped shut. “Come on, we need to talk,” you say as you walk to the door of your room and unlock it.

“About what?”

You turn and glare at him. “Just get your ass in here. Please.”

The frown on his brow would intimidate most people, but you’re used to it. He finally scuffs his feet around a little and reluctantly trudges towards you, shouldering his way through the door and crossing the room. He leans against the wall near the bathroom door, arms folded across his chest and his ankles crossed, those dimples showing the level of his displeasure.

You close the door and lock it, tossing the key card onto the table as you approach him and stop directly in front of him, staring into his defiant eyes. “Well, go ahead. Tear me a new one,” he bites out.

Instead, you step closer, place your palm against his chest and lean up, your head tilting a little to the side as your lips land on his, nibbling and nipping at that tempting bottom lip. You feel his chest tense up, and you draw back a little, meeting his wary gaze. “What… uh… are you doing?”

“You started this… you will forgive me if I finish it,” you manage, your voice raspy with restrained want as you kiss him again. His arms drop to his sides, and for a second or two he is still, as if he’s afraid to move, afraid he’ll make you shy away. When your tongue teases at his lips, he moves so suddenly that your heart trips up in your chest. He scoops you up, hands behind your thighs, perching you at his waist as he turns to hold you against the wall and return your kiss with a quiet desperation that makes you clutch him tight, your arms around his neck.

He kisses you like it’s what keeps him alive, savoring you, every glide of his tongue against yours a languid, thoughtful caress, and his lips are pure heaven, just like you’ve imagined a hundred times. His fingers are kneading rhythmically at your waist, his hips rocking into you slightly, and you adjust your position so his growing erection is hitting just the right spot, forcing a low moan from you both.

You break apart for a moment, both of you panting for air, and he buries his face in your neck, your name a rough whisper in your ear as he nibbles at your soft skin. You buck against him, your need a raging fire, your voice a desperate whine. “Dean, need you…”

“You got me,” he rumbles, kissing you again, fierce and ravenous, then turning to let your feet slide to the floor. You shove impatiently at his t-shirt, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in a little smirk as he complies, pulling it over his head and dropping it to the floor. He reaches for yours, watching your face as he begins to lift it, waiting for your eyes to tell him to continue before he pulls it off. His eyes are hungry as you unclasp your bra, letting it fall before reaching for him, your breasts crushed to his warm chest as your lips crash together again.

You finally push back, your eyes drifting shut for a moment as he brushes his fingers across your nipple. You reach for his jeans, opening the zipper and looking up at him as his jaw tics, his teeth clenched as you touch his heated skin. “Better get those boots off, yeah?” you smile, and he grins.

You both sit on the end of the bed, boots and socks flung out of the way, and before you can stand back up, he pushes you back on the bed and opens your jeans, tugging them down and bending to kiss your belly button, making you giggle. He works them down your legs, then goes after your panties, his tongue darting out over his lips as he finishes removing the last barrier. Your eyes are riveted to the bulge in his boxer briefs, his jeans barely hanging on to his hips, and you literally feel your mouth water and your pussy clench.

He drops to his knees and kisses his way slowly up the length of your legs, finally reaching the apex and dropping a gentle kiss to your mound. “Can I?” he asks, and you hear the want in his voice. You nod with a little whine, your head dropping back as he nuzzles his face between your thighs, rubbing his nose over your clit. The first sweep of his tongue through your folds punches a moan from your throat, and he responds, sending a delicious vibration over your sensitive flesh. He’s nudging and nibbling, driving you insane, finally spearing his tongue deep inside you as he moans again at your flavor.

He explores you thoroughly until you’re squirming beneath the onslaught, and you gasp as he slides a pair of those thick, calloused fingers inside you, stroking, curling. You’re on the edge already, and when he moves up to suck your clit into the warmth of his mouth, you buck up into him and come.

“Fuck, Deeean!” He keeps you at the peak of pleasure until you are begging him to stop, and he finally backs off, gently cleaning you with wide swipes of his tongue. He rubs a hand over his face, looking very satisfied with himself as he begins to stand, and you glare at him playfully, breathing hard. “Pants off, mister, and get your perky ass up here.”

“Perky? Really?” he says a little sarcastically, but he’s smiling.

“It is perky, and I want to see it naked.” He complies, an extra little wiggle as he finishes, and you laugh. “Get up here, Magic Mike.” You’ve moved yourself up to lie on the pillows, your breath catching in your throat for a second as he turns to walk towards the bed. Your imagination doesn’t hold a candle to the reality, and you take a breathless moment to appreciate him as he approaches, his cock proud and bobbing slightly as he moves. “Wait – side pocket of my bag, condoms…” you manage to say, and he turns to where your duffle sits on the chair in the corner.

He digs a little, then turns with a naughty smirk and raised eyebrow, your purple vibrator in his hand. You can’t help but laugh again at his expression, and he grins. “Another time maybe.” He puts it back, finding the original target and tossing the foil packet at you as he climbs onto the bed.

“Lay back – my turn to play,” you say, and move to let him settle himself in the middle of the bed, watching as you move down between his legs, his eyes glowing with anticipation. His stomach muscles jump as you reach for him, your fingers gently petting his erection, hot and hard and soft as velvet beneath your touch. He exhales harshly, his jaw working as he watches, swearing as you lean down to smother his cock with your breasts, your neck bent so you can run your tongue over the head.

“Jesus! Fff-uuuuuuck…” His hands are clawing into the bedding, the sexiest noises you’ve ever heard being punched from his chest as you suck the tip into your mouth, one hand squeezing at the tense, hard muscle of his thigh. You lift your body so you can bend and take him in deeper, pushing yourself to your limit, working him with your tongue and sucking hard as you pull back up. You do it again, and then once more, finally pulling off completely with a tease of your tongue into the slit. His chest is heaving with the effort of holding back, and when you tear open the packet, he reaches for your hand, shaking his head. “No… no, let me, I can’t...”

You hand it to him, watching as he grips the base of his cock, squeezing, his eyes clenched shut as he backs off the urge to come. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and you can barely hold still, your cunt pulsing, impatient to be filled. Finally he blows out a breath, taking the condom out and rolling it over his length. You climb up over him, attacking his lips as he clutches at your breast, and your sigh mingles with his moan as you lick into his mouth hungrily.

You can’t take it any longer, raising up to reach for him, guiding him to your entrance, mouth open in a silent cry as you slowly take him in. There’s fire in his eyes as he watches you, his gaze moving from your face to where you are joined and back again. You whimper as he fills you completely, piercing the deepest part of you, and you bite at your lip as you savor the sensation of your body shifting, molding itself around him.

Dean reaches to run his hands over the soft skin of your thighs, squeezing gently. “C’mere, baby,” he whispers, and you lower yourself back down to kiss him. “You feel so damn good,” he murmurs against your lips, and you hum in response, grinding down against him.

“Mmmmm, so do you.” You begin to move, rocking against him, the delicious friction on your clit making you moan. Soon you want more, and you reluctantly abandon Dean’s lips to raise up so you can ride him for real. His fingers dig into your hips as he helps you move, and each time you drop down to take him deep it forces a muffled cry from you. You fuck him until your legs are burning, right at the edge, almost desperate.

Dean sits up, one hand holding you tight against him as he puts the other down between you to rub at your clit, a low groan in his throat as your pussy clenches around him. “Come for me, and I’ll roll you over and fuck you so hard,” he promises. You’re begging now, ‘please’ and ‘Dean’ and swearing, gritting your teeth, and when he leans close to your ear, growling, “Give it to me,” you do. You barely recognize yourself in the sound that bursts from you as blinding ecstasy floods through you, and Dean grunts as your cunt seizes around him with a vicious squeeze.

You’re still riding the wave of your orgasm when he manhandles you, flipping you to your back and seamlessly driving back inside you. You clamp your legs around him, hips rising to meet every thrust as he hits a fast, furious rhythm, his arms caging your body and his face buried in your neck. You’re shaking, fingers tearing at the bed, shouting as he hits his peak and bites down on the slope of your neck. “Fuck!” You feel his cock pulsing as he comes, and it makes you shudder, your muscles seizing up again for a moment before you go completely limp beneath him.

He relaxes slowly, his body heavy and warm on top of yours, his lips and tongue soothing the bite before he goes motionless. You both lie there, chests heaving together, riding out aftershocks with soft little whimpers and moans. He finally moves, pulling out of you, sending a hard shudder through your body, and he laughs softly, making you smile. He rolls to his back, ridding himself of the condom before turning back to pull you close.

For a while there are slow, lazy kisses and roaming hands, and then he turns to his back again, cradling you against his side, your head tucked into his shoulder. His last thought as he dozes off is that maybe he doesn’t have a normal life. But what he has, right now? Worth it.

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

[stillwinchester]

“Happy Birthday, Dean,” whispers Cas, kissing the nape of his neck. He doesn't need to see him to know he smiles, he feels a big grin in the air.

Dean turns around to face him, still smiling.

“Well, will you give me a Marilyn Monroe performance?”

“I don't know what it is, but you get breakfast, with double bacon, and big cup of coffee. Delivered to bed.”

Dean chuckles, but a moment later he frowns, he wonders about something.

“Forty-four, huh?” he says like he doesn't believe he made it.

“Yeah, forty-four,” repeats Cas. “I'm so proud of you.”

He leans to him and gives him the birthday's kiss. One of many this day.

[whinlatter]

Are we getting Deamus in your Dean fic? Or is it mostly about Dean/Ginny? Do you think Dean had feelings for Seamus when he was with Ginny? Or did Seamus get annoyed that Dean was always talking about Ginny?

the dean project (an eternal work in slow progress i will finish if it kills me) has deamus too never fear! it covers dean’s life from birth to age eighteen, so it doesn’t have a romantic endgame, but does explore young dean’s sexuality, so ginny and seamus both make appearances. and yes 100% seamus was fuming throughout that whole relationship. watching ginny on the quidditch pitch knowing she had his chaser spot AND his man? finnigan was frothing at the mouth, absolutely

[deanwbigbang]

If We Live Through This

Author: Amypond45 Artist: MidnightSilver Pairing: Dean/Sam Rating: Mature Word Count: 13.6K Warnings/Tags: sibling incest, post-Cage, Season 6 AU

Summary: Dean feels like a failure when he can’t get Sam out of the Cage. When Sam just shows up one day, with no memory of how he got out, Dean is beyond grateful but wracked with guilt too. Sam doesn’t want to hunt anymore, so he and Dean settle down in a cabin in the woods, maybe near a lake. But Sam has nightmares of the Cage, and Dean’s guilt makes him desperate to atone for his failure to get Sam out by giving Sam everything and anything he needs, even if it means crossing that line Dean swore he’d never cross.

Fic Links: LJ / AO3 | Art Link

[spntism]

It was an established fact in Dean Winchester’s life that nobody actually cared about him except for his brother. His father cared only about what Dean could do for him. The counselors at windblown schools didn’t care about him, they just saw a kid who attended school for a few weeks here and there and never left a forwarding address as a problem to be solved. Sticking their mandated reporter noses into every fucked up kid who seemed slightly off.

Dean knew this but it still hurt. Hurt like knees digging into dirty concrete for hours at a time, clutching wrinkled bills and hoping. Hoping that maybe - just maybe - this was enough for food for the rest of the week or until his father came back, handfuls of bills saying what his words never would. I’m sorry I didn’t stay, I’m sorry I left you on your own. I’m sorry you’re having to do two parents jobs without having any for yourself.

How does a boy become a father, a boy become a man at four years old? Messily. Growing pains ripping him apart. Fights with Sam over anything and everything, resentment always bubbling under the surface. But even with that, always clutching Sam close and promising to protect him from both the world and John Winchester’s rage. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, right? Better the brother who loves you than the father who resents you.

Brotherhood is a bond that can’t be easily broken. Except maybe by your brother choosing something other than you under your nose. And on one hand he’s proud of the kid for wanting better than credit card scams, and hustling pool, knowing the shittiest motels in the most forgettable towns intimately and never having a fixed address. But on the other hand now Sam’s leaving Dean to deal with the roving hurricane that is John Winchester all on his own. And Dean knows that he’s a grown-ass man and shouldn’t rely on his baby brother for things like this. But Sam was always the best at cracking a joke that wasn’t really a joke, and taking the edge off the situations where the tension cut like a well tended blade.

What was Dean without Sam? Dean hadn’t been without Sam since before he was a four year old bawling over his mother’s death without even a picture to remember her by, the only tangible evidence she’d existed in his arms and green eyes in the mirror. Dean without Sam was somehow more himself than he had ever been, but less than he had ever thought he would have to be.

Dean coped the way he always did. Copious amounts of alcohol, the first girl he saw at a bar, rinse and repeat. Except this time, it didn’t work so well and left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

So he did the next best thing. He found something that needed killing, didn’t sleep for a week, and made sure that fucker was dead. And then he did it again.

[alexsoenomel]

Pov: Your camera roll if you were slowly falling for Dean

You and Dean had a deal - no strings attached. But you both knew that wouldn’t last long. (for the fic, click here)

Thank you @pinkiebieberpie for inspiring me to make my own version

[silent-stories]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘

Summary: Early in the morning, you get a text from a friend who needs help with a hunt, but Dean doesn't seem to be letting you out of bed.

Pairing: Dean × F!Reader

Warnings: just some fluff

Word count: 761

You were snuggled up in the blankets, warm, next to Dean, when the sound of the phone on the bedside table made you wake up.

You noticed that the first lights of the day were filtering through the motel window, illuminating the room with different shades of red and orange, so it must have been early morning.

Reluctantly, you reached out, pulling your arm out from under the blanket and you grabbed the phone.

On the screen you read a text sent by a friend of yours asking you to meet because she needed help with a hunt.

You snorted. You loved your friend and you didn't want her to get hurt hunting alone but you and Dean had just solved a case and you had hoped to spend a few quiet days only with him.

You felt Dean, next to you, starting to move.

"What's happening?" He asked with a husky and sleepy voice, raising his head slightly and rubbing one eye with the back of his hand.

His hair went in all directions making him look like a hedgehog and a smile formed on your lips.

"Why are you laughing?" He asked again.

"Because you're cute." You said. "But I got a text from a friend, I gotta go, she needs me on a hunt."

You were about to get up and get out of bed but he wrapped his arm around your waist and you fell back on the mattress.

"Dean, c'mon." You laughed.

"You're not going anywhere." He said as he pushed you against his body and your legs got entangled.

Instinctively, you rested your head on his chest, even though you knew you should have gotten out of bed. He slowly ran his warm hand up and down your back.

"Dean." You said again.

"Stay, it's too early." He muttered as he left a kiss in your hair. "Please."

That "please" almost convinced you, he soundend just like a little kid.

"I'm so sorry De, but she needs me. I have to go." You said as his arm still held you against his body.

"What about me?" He answered moving a lock of hair that had fallen on your face and placing it behind your ear. "I need you too."

"Dean." You muttered as you left a short but tender kiss on his lips. "If you keep acting like that, I'll never leave this room."

"That was the idea." He chuckled as he slowly wrapped the blanket better around your shoulders.

You sighed, enjoying the feeling of Dean's arms around your waist for a few seconds, listening to his heartbeat.

"I really should go." You murmured.

"Or you can text back your friend saying you can't go and then you can stay." He replied, his hand still running up and down your back.

"Dean..." You tried to convince him, even though the exact opposite was happening.

"Stay." He whispered. "We can stay here all day, in bed, the blanket around us and watch some stupid TV show."

"I ..." You tried to interrupt him, but he continued.

"Then we'll order a pizza or whatever you want and we will eat it here and we will go back to cuddle. You'll wear one of my t-shirts because you say you're more comfortable in it and I'll tell you you can keep it, because it looks better on you than on me. We can just stay. Because it's been days, if not months, that we haven't spent some time together, just the two of us, that is not when we're fighting a werewolf, burning bones in a graveyard, or stiching up eachother's wounds." He said.

It sounded nice, you had to admit it.

"What do you think about it, sweetheart?" He asked, you could hear the hope in his voice.

You knew you had to get out of that damn bed, you had to wash your face, put on your jacket and your boots, get your gun and your knives, get out of the motel, go hunting and... fuck.

You just couldn't say no to Dean. You couldn't say no to a day spent doing normal things with Dean, forgetting for a few hours that the monsters out there didn't exist.

"I think I'll stay." You muttered as a smile formed on Dean's lips and he left a kiss on your forehead.

"Good." He said simply.

You wrapped your arms around his torso.

"Good." You whispered back, placing your head better on his chest that you were still using as a pillow.

And you stayed.

Tags: @eevvvaa @spn730015 @supernatural111222 @youcancallmelily @clairenovakanddeanwinchester @dads-on-a-hunting-trip @3amstillawake @supernaturalmess @marvelandsupernatural @agirlwatchingalotoftvshows @candy-coated-misery0731 @impalaslytherin @rudy-the-winged-wolf @dean-winchester-6767 @tigergirllolipop

[youchangedmedestiel]

I already made a post to tell how much I wanted to see Dean meet with a Dean girl in the Supernatural universe (kind of like Becky but not completely like her), like one that read Chuck's books and loves Dean as much as we do. Because he FUCKING deserves it.

Well, if you want to know everything, I'm currently working on a fanfic based on this idea. Because Dean needs someone to tell him how much he is loved (especially in season 5 because yes I think it will happened during this one).

[chucksfavouriteprophet]

The Intrusion - Chapter 6

Back to The Intrusion masterlist

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: As you and Dean start to face your feelings, you start to accept that you need to communicate to make things work. A compromise is struck which meets all living arrangements, but it might mean a new career is on the cards.

Word count: 1,879

Warnings: language, little bit of angst, talk and use of firearms

<>

As dawn broke, you packed your bag and prepared to go. Checking the coast was clear, you shuffled down the corridor, taking in one last look the place you'd come to call your home. Tears pricked your eyes as you couldn't quite believe it had come to this. All the running, the hiding, the moving from place to place. You'd lost everything, but you still had the bunker, the one place could you call home. If you left, you had nothing. But you had to leave, you knew that. It wasn't home with the Winchesters around, and it was clear they weren't going anywhere.

"Y/N," a cracked voice broke you from your trance and you took a deep breath.

"Don't bother, Dean. I'm leaving, you don't need to ask."

You heard footsteps approaching as you turned round slowly, trying to hide your emotion. Dean loomed above you, his forest eyes staring down over heavy bags. He was still in the same clothes as the day before, and you reckoned he'd slept about as well as you had.

"Don't leave." It was just a whisper, but it was music to your ears. "If you can't stand me that much, I'll go. I'd planned on mentioning it to Sam today. I know when we're not wanted. But please, please don't you leave."

"I have to, Dean," you sighed. "You were right - you have the key, you're the rightful owners of this place. I don't belong here anymore." As you went to turn, a strong hand grasped your shoulder, freezing your movement.

"Thats not true. I know I haven't shown much interest in your life, and I'm sorry for that, really. But you have Men of Letters history, so this place is more yours than it is ours. Who gives a fuck about a stupid key. This place probably wouldn't still be standing if it wasn't for you. You can't leave."

You gazed up at him, cursing the butterflies that filled your stomach once again. "I can't make you leave either, Dean. That first day, when I first saw you two in the library, I'll never forget the looks on your faces. It was like Christmas morning. I can't take that away from you. But I see how much you hate me, and I just know we can't go round in circles like this forever."

Dean startled, his brows furrowing. "Hate you? I don't hate you, Y/N. I thought you were the one who hated me."

You laughed, biting your lip. "No, Dean. Christ, I've wanted to, but I just can't. No matter how much you ignore me, how much you scream at me, I just can't help but see the good in you."

"I don't ignore you," Dean mumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I just thought you didn't want me around. I kinda usually have a way with women, but I just couldn't bring myself to charm you. I dunno, I guess there was something holding me back and I assumed you hated me so I kept my distance."

You were suddenly very conscious that you were both standing incredibly close to each other, fingertips almost touching. You could hardly breathe.

"I'm not gonna say its not been hard, because it has. This is my space, and you two suddenly came in and took over and tried to interfere with my life. I mean for fucks sake Dean, you quit my job for me! You can't do shit like that!" The tears were back prickling your eyes.

"I know," Dean sighed sadly. "But the thought of you going to that place, it made me angry. It was not a good place, Y/N, and it frustrated me that you couldn't see that. I mean, look how it ended up!"

"Yes, and I still didn't need you getting in the way. I had it. I can look after myself, I've been doing it for a long time. I'm honestly surprised you can't see that, given I'm pretty sure you've been in the same situation. I don't need babying Dean."

He nodded, taking a step back and running a hand down his face. You let out a well-needed breath, glancing down at the floor having broken his gaze.

"I know that. Look, I know I fucked things up with us, so what do you say about a fresh start? No one moves out, we carry on with our lives, we don't get in each other's way, we don't piss each other off?" He opened his arms in an offer of compromise.

You shook your head quickly. "Its too late for that Dean. I have no job, remember? I have no life. Theres nothing for me here."

"Hunt with us."

"What?" Your head shot up, frowning at him as he stood solidly before you, hands by his side, mouth tight. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, Y/N, I'm serious. You've clearly done enough research, and whatever history you have with the Men of Letters is likely to have prepared you for whatever crap we deal with. You're more than capable. Hunt with us."

"You don't mean that, Dean. You'll just get pissed off at me, I know. You and your brother, hunting's your thing. Theres no room for anyone else."

"You're right. But I don't think you're just 'anyone else.' Y/N, I wouldn't be suggesting this if I didn't think it would seriously work. Just, think about it. Don't leave today. Do some research on local cases, let me know what you think." His expression had hardly changed as he continued to stare at you.

You gulped, closing your eyes tightly for a second while you took everything in. Maybe he was right. You weren't a complete novice when it came to shit like this, and the boys managed to make a living out of it, so whats to say you couldn't too.

"I'll think about it," you breathed, watching as Dean's body visibly relaxed in response to you putting your bag on the table and taking a step forward. He moved to the side to let you pass, and you didn't exchange words as you left him standing there. You did, however, meet his eye as you turned to take another look at him before rounding the corner and heading down the hall.

<>

Dean must have spoken to Sam in private, because the next morning there was a seat set up for you with a coffee and notepad across the desk from the brothers in the library. The younger Winchester smiled as you slid into the seat, pulling out your laptop and drawing your knees up to your chest.

"Hey, Y/N. Good to have you on board. You wanna take the east coast while Dean and I tackle the rest of the country?"

You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee which desperately needed some more sugar. "The whole east coast?!"

Dean sniggered. "You'll wizz through it, trust me. Most news reports you'll be able to rule out pretty quick. Theres not a shit ton of supernatural activity around at the moment, things are pretty quiet."

You nodded in half hearted agreement, wondering where to start. Once you found yourself down a trail of New York murders, however, time started to fly as you became engrossed in the research. You hadn't done work like this since high school, and that was years ago. It felt good to have a purpose and a reason to explore the internet for reasons other than if anyone was after you.

Every now and then Sam glanced up to see his brother spying at you from over the top of his screen. He smiled at himself, realising that Dean wasn't actually doing any research himself and instead seemed glued to watching you, who was of course oblivious.

"Hey guys, I think I might have found something," you pipped up after a few hours of searching. You spun the laptop round, revealing a headline that read 'BOY SCOUT GROUP PRESUMED DEAD AT CAMPSITE'. The article went on to explain how 12 boys had gone missing from their tents on a camping trip in their local woods in Vermont, and their scout leader was found dead.

"Says here the site was torn to shreds. Cops putting it down to some kinda wild animal, but the way the scout leader was found it wasn't even like they knew something was out there. A bear or something you'd expect them to scream and wake each other up right?"

The boys nodded. "Wendigo, maybe?" Sam frowned.

"Looks like you've found a winner there, Y/N" Dean grinned, and you looked away to hide the red creeping into your cheeks. With a clap of his hands, he jumped up and headed round the table towards you. "Right, next job, shooting lesson."

You glared up at him, scowling at his grin.

"Oh c'mon, you seriously thought I'd forgotten about that awful shot you took at us the day we met?" He slapped you on the back gently as he walked past. "Firing range, five minutes!"

You looked over at Sam and rolled your eyes, making him laugh, before dragging yourself out the chair and following Dean. Truthfully, you were excited to finally learn how to actually use a gun, given that no matter how much you tried to teach yourself your precision hadn't improved much.

The gun room was cleaner than it had been when it was just you living in the bunker, and things had been rearranged. You went straight for the gun you usually favoured, only to be stopped by Dean.

"Woah woah, not that one. Here, try this," he reached round and chose a slightly smaller handgun that was surprisingly heavier. You went to say something but he stopped you. “The weight will be easier to balance. Just trust me." You nodded, pursuing your mouth shut and letting him manoeuvre you to face the target board.

"Relax", he prompted, which was easier said than done with his muscular hands resting on your shoulders. You shuffled your feet to get into the position he was directing you in, holding the gun forward.

"Take a deep breath, and don't think about it too much," he mumbled, warm air blowing into your ear. You were conscious that his body was incredibly close to yours, probably closer than it needed to be.

It took a few tries, but eventually you had your stance right and the bullet was going where you wanted it to. "Not bad," Dean nodded. "See, you just needed to get the basics in. You'll be fine." You tried not to look him in the eye, suddenly conscious that the dynamic between the two of you had completely changed. You'd spent months avoiding each other, being incredibly awkward whenever you had to be in the same room, but all of a sudden it was like that had never happened. He was suddenly soft and caring, and you felt yourself relax entirely in his presence. It freaked you out a little, truth be told. Nevertheless, he didn't hang around long, leaving the range before you'd even had time to compose himself. Okay, so he was still weird. Fine. Maybe nothing had really changed.

Either way, you were sure things would become clearer once you embarked on your first hunt.

| Chapter 7 |

Tag list

@sexyvixen7 @stitchintimefan @tristanrosspada-ackles @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @siospins2 @hellhound-whisperer @nancymcl @rinnie-rintarou @mxnsonsbabe @foxyjwls007 @imherefordeanandbones @bluedragonflylady @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses @mukbee @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses. @craftytrashprincess

(note: this is a forever tag list so if you’d like to be added/removed please let me know!)

[soaringeag1e]

Escape {69}

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Secrets

Words: 1,945

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Patreon

9 Months Later

A couple of quiet knocks gets Dean to look up from the picture frame in his hand and he smiles at the man in the doorway. Feeling even more at home with the familiar face.

“You settling in, okay?” Dean slowly begins to nod as he looks around the room. “Feel like you never left?” It’s then that Dean’s eyes look through the window to Bobby’s right, his smile fading a little.

“Kind of.”

“Yeah.” The elder breathes before taking a few more steps into the office.

“I’m surprised you never gave my office up.” he admits, setting the picture he was holding down on his desk.

“Well,” Bobby shrugs. “There was a part of me that knew you would be back.”

“What about the part that didn't know?” His father figure remains silent for a moment, seeming to think about the answer though Dean is sure he knows exactly what he was feeling.

“I thought that maybe you needed the out and that you might go and find something else that made you happy.” Hearing that warms Dean’s heart.

“What if I did?” he asks, just curious on what would happen if the last option actually happened. 

“Well, then I would give your office up. Eventually.” They both share a light laugh. “That or turn it into a storage room.” Dean grins at his boss before setting another picture on his desk and then reaching back into the box to grab the next frame that needed a home in his office. "Well, you know where to find me if you need something." Bobby informs him as he slowly backs out of the room. "And uh…" he pauses, getting Dean to look at him. "Let's try not to get shot on our first day back, huh?" Despite the darkness of the past year, Dean’s able to chuckle at the joke. Grateful, Bobby grins and then leaves Dean to finish getting settled. 

His smile grows a bit as he looks down at the picture in his hand, his thumb gently brushing over the woman in the white dress as he lets that good memory play in his head. Not long after, he sets the frame down, right where he knows he'll always be able to see it.

Continuing to empty his box, he gets everything set up the way he likes and then he takes a seat in his chair, the familiar comfort almost feeling new for how long he's been gone. As he looks across the office and his eyes land on his former partner's desk on the other side of the glass, Dean has to take a minute. He knew coming back wouldn't be easy but he also knew that Eddie wouldn't want him to give up his career because of what happened. Dean was good at what he did and he knew this is where he belonged despite losing an amazing partner and friend.

Deans eyes gently close and he inhales deeply through his nose. His attempt to push away his emotions isn't the greatest but it's enough for him to carry on with his day.

As his computer wakes up after its long slumber, Dean's surprised to see that everything was the same as he left it. Files were sitting in the same spot on his desktop, his background picture was still that of a Zeppelin concert he attended years before he got his badge. Bobby really left his space untouched. 

Clicking on a few links, Dean waits patiently while some documents get uploaded on his computer. It's then that he catches his phone lighting up out of the corner of his eye, the notification getting him to grab the device and investigate more.

Movement was detected at his front door, the new doorbell camera working to its full potential. Though, after finding out that Cassidy tampered with the previous camera, it isn't that it didn't work, it's just that he had skills that Dean never knew about. It turned out that the day you had heard someone knocking on the door was in fact Cassidy testing out his plan and clearly it worked way too well.

As the little camera shows his front porch, Dean grins. His brother Sam stood there in a loose shirt and his infamous jogging pants. A few seconds later you had come into view wearing your jogging pants and a hot pink workout top, locking the door before looking into the camera and blowing a kiss.

"Love you." 

His smile growing, Dean lightly presses the speaker button on his phone. "Love you too." You smile brightly knowing he has an eye on you and then the two of you turn to step off the porch. Sam takes a second to look into the camera himself, waving to his brother before he takes off jogging to catch up with you.

Knowing that you're safe with Sam, Dean is able to relax a bit more before he dives into his first day back at work.

-

The two of you would usually spend an average of thirty minutes on your morning jogs. It didn't happen everyday considering the fact that Sam had to work most mornings, but when you both had some free time, it was definitely on the to do list. Another must have was a pit stop on the way back home. A nice little coffee shop run by a sweet older couple that have lived in town since they were kids. You and Sam felt like family going in there every time you were able to go out and you loved it.

“Oh! And can you make that decaf, please?” Sam looks at you a little confused, though you don’t notice as you’re paying for the two drinks. But as the barista nods and then steps away to start your drinks, Sam clears his throat, watching you put your card away.

“Decaf?” As if you didn’t hear him, you then pulled your phone out checking to see if you’ve heard from Dean at all, but everything seemed quiet. “When do you get decaf?” After slipping your phone into the pocket on the side of your pants, you look up at your friend, shrugging softly.

“Since I don’t need the extra kick.” your smile widens a bit before you step around him, waiting at the far counter for your order to be done. But Sam? He’s stuck in his spot for a few more beats, his mind fast tracking through his years of knowing you before he spins on his heel and moves to the end of the counter with you.

“Hold on,” Placing his palm on the counter, he looks at you with doubt in his eyes. “I’ve seen you wired off your ass before and you’d still take some extra shots over decaf.” A soft sigh falls from your lips and you look away, watching the barista make your drink. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Sam.” You say with an annoyance already in your tone.

“Y/N…”

“Shit, Sam, I’m fine!” The little outburst has him pull back a bit, looking at you with concern and slight disbelief and that clearly deflates you. “I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m a little tired and I think when I get back home I’m going to take a nap, so I just don’t want any caffeine right now. It’s not a big deal.” It’s then that Sam’s drink is set up on the counter and he reaches for it, but none of that takes away the concern he has.

“You feeling alright though?”

“Yeah.” you answer in a whisper before reaching for your drink and thanking the team behind the counter.

“Hey,” Lightly grabbing your elbow, Sam’s face is soft, his expression even softer, almost heartbreakingly so. “You can tell me anything. You remember that, right?”

“Of course I do.” your voice is as gentle as his touch. Despite that response and the fact that you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, something didn’t feel quite right. But he didn’t want to push you anymore than he already did.  “Is it okay if we start heading back?”

“Sure.” Though still concerned, Sam nods and gives you a soft smile. One that disappears as you start to head for the door.

-

Unfortunately for you it wasn’t only Sam that could see something was going on with you. Over the next few days Dean had picked up on the slight differences in your behaviors as well. You expressed to him and Sam both that you were just tired. Maybe you were coming down with something or maybe you had some kind of bug that just knocked the energy out of you. Either way, Dean took care of you as such. He tried to let you rest as much as possible, even brought you food in bed to keep you from exerting yourself too much. He begged you to go see a doctor multiple times and it wasn’t until just the night before last that you had told him that you in fact went to see someone. The only thing he didn’t know now was the fact that you knew what was wrong with you. You just weren’t sure how to tell him.

So as the sun slowly rose, the bright orange beams coming through the blinds in the bedroom, Dean's fingers worked the buttons on his dress shirt. His eyes kept lifting to the mirror, catching sight of you sleeping peacefully under the covers behind him. He used to close the bathroom door while he got ready for work in the morning, but you usually couldn’t be disturbed, and if you were, he loved the sight of your sleepy self sitting up and smiling at him from the bed. Though that was always dangerous in itself because he would just want to call in on those days and climb back in bed with you.

Once his buttons were done and he fixed his collar, he doused himself with a little cologne and then turned to leave the room. Slipping his dress jacket off the hanger, he slowly makes his way towards the bed, smiling softly as your face comes into view.

“I love your cologne.” your voice barely makes it out of the blankets, but it’s enough for him to hear.

“I didn’t think I put that much on.” A low moan escapes as you stretch under the covers. “Is it too much?” You disagree with a light shake of your head and a low grumble.

“It’s perfect.” you smile up at him as he sits at the edge of the bed and leans over you. A deep gravelly hum rolls up his chest just as his lips meet yours.

“How are you feeling?” he asks in between kisses and you answer in the same way.

“A little better.” 

“Yeah?” Kissing you once more, this one lasts a little longer before he pulls away and just looks into your eyes. “Have you heard back from the doctor yet?”

“Not yet.” you lie as best you can, feeling guilty for not telling him the truth, but you aren’t ready to tell him. You can see how much it’s bothering him, especially after that last answer. He’s clearly concerned and of course looks worried which makes you feel worse.

“Maybe you should call them? Check in with ‘em.”

“I can try.” you lie again, hoping it’ll make him feel a little better. You can tell he’s pleased with your answer but that fear won't go away until you tell him what’s going on. The unknown is always a scary place, but sometimes the known can be just as scary.