#dean winchester x reader au

[bccky]

Souls Intertwined By Fate

Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader

Summary: As soulmates, you can feel the exact intensity of pain as your other half when they get hurt. So what happens when your soulmate literally goes to hell?

Words: 1,588

Warnings: descriptions of death, mention of suicide, angst, full discretion is adviced

A/N: shoutout to my first member on BuyMeACoffee - Em! Thank you so much for your support, you've given me the motivation for this story 😊 // This is where the angst starts guys! Hope you all like this one Xx

Pairing:  Dean Winchester X Reader

<- PART 3

Supernatural Masterlist • Main Masterlist

Souls Intertwined By Fate Masterlist

Then - 

“Please give me a few minutes, Chris, I’ll come find you.” He gives you one final look, asking indirectly if you’re sure, and you nod with reassurance before he leaves.

“So Y/N, is it?” Dean asks, and you bite your lip.

“Yup. I guess we have a lot to talk about.” 

Now - 

“Sure we do. Is he your boyfriend?” Dean asks, glancing at the door that Chris just walked through.

“We have an arrangement.” You shrug, at which he exhales, as if out of relief.

You take a deep breath. “How about we chat somewhere else?”

Dean peers around like he just realized the murky alley you are in. “In the diner?” 

You shake your head. “Nope, lots of nosy people in a small town like this. Are you staying here for long?” 

It’s his turn to shake his head. “We are checking something fishy in the next town, we were just gonna eat and pass this one. Destiny I guess.”

Snorting you think, fuck destiny. You don’t want to make it feel any more real.

“There is a motel next door. Tell Gale my name and get a room for you, my shift ends in two hours.” 

You watch Dean talk for a bit while they eat and then walk out of the diner together, his eyes watching you until he no longer can.

Chris keeps on peeking at you throughout your shift, and you can’t blame him. The way the day had started did not give you a clue on what fate had in store for you.

You find yourself sighing a lot, but still have a fake smile plastered on to keep your patrons happy and get tips. Apart from this, you keep tuning out as you rely on muscle memory for the rest of the shift.

Panicking internally, while you try to be ready for the two serious conversations that are in store for you, and the first comes as you’re cleaning a table at the end of the day.

“Y/N?” Chris’s voice takes you out of your reverie, and you mentally prepare not to cry.

You two are alone in the diner, and although the last few weeks consisted of this alone time filled with kisses, this one is full of uneasiness. You hum and decide to focus on a particularly stubborn spot on the table.

“When were you going to tell me?” 

“Tell you what?” You still don’t look at him.

“About your soulmate.”

The dryness of your mouth is a telltale of your anxiety, and you gulp before answering. “I talked to him for the first time today.”

“And I’m sure it won’t be the last.” 

The crack in his voice finally makes you swivel and meet his gaze, seeing him to be on the verge of breaking down and your heart officially breaks for the first time.

“Chris, come on. I am not going anywhere” You keep the rag down, wipe your hands and close the distance between you before cradling his face.

Although you know that sentence holds no weight, all you want to do is comfort the guy who has opened his home and heart for you.

He kisses the palms of your hands as his hands encircle your waist. The way he tugs at you to get you just that little bit closer tells you that he doesn’t want to let you go, but he's made up his mind to.

“It’s not that complicated,” You try to interrupt him, but he shushes you with a kiss before continuing. “And you don’t have anything to explain. You met your soulmate, and you deserve to be happy with him.”

His intense blue eyes stare deep within your soul, and you’re afraid he’ll see how downright scared out of your wits you are.

“I have the option not to be with him, I’m pretty happy with you.” You say, and there are tears glistening in his eyes, threatening to come out.

You try to pick words that will minimize the hurt, but you know there’s not much you can do. It’s his way of saying goodbye, his way for closure.

“You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” You ask in a lighter tone.

“I have. It’s not like I could just not pay attention to your little gasps at odd times.” He says. “You should tell Dean not to get into trouble so much, seeing as it hurts you too.” 

You giggle, as if you could tell a hunter to stay safe.

“I don’t deserve your kindness, Chris.” You mutter, and the dimples that you like so much appear on his cheeks.

“I just knew this day would come sometime or the later, I just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.” 

This man has literally changed the way you see love, and if you hadn’t been so blinded by your quest to stay hiding from your soulmate, you would have realized it sooner.

“Besides,” he begins again, “I’m glad you found your soulmate before I found mine, it would’ve been harder for me to let go.” 

You and me both, you reply internally. But you settle on saying, “You are making it harder right now.” 

Chris chuckles, “it’s alright. I’ll be fine. Promise me you will take care.”

“Don’t say it like we’ll never see each other again,” you hit him softly.

“I have a feeling we’ll be very different people if we ever do.” He tightens the hug and you wrap your hands around him. “Go now.”

For the very first time since you’ve met Chris, he’s the first one to let go in a hug - and you don’t let go until you feel ready, the cloth of his shirt getting wet with your stray tears.

The walk to the motel has worn you down, but you know nothing can be harder than what you’ve just given up on with Chris.

Gale gives you a side eye when you ask where the two guys are situated. You pay no heed, just walking on towards Dean’s room and taking a deep breath before knocking.

“You’re here.” Dean says when he opens the door for you, and you muster up a smile.

“I’m here.” You repeat. 

He moves to the side, letting you in his two singles room.

Everything is clean and the beds made, like they haven’t used it at all, and the man with him is nowhere to be seen.

“You’re alone?” You ask, just to make sure.

“Yeah, Sam went out for a run.”

“Is he your partner?” This question echoes the same conviction like one he had asked about Chris.

He shakes his head with a disgusted look while leading you to sit on one of the beds before sitting opposite to you. “He’s my younger brother, we hunt together.”

“I see. So-”

“So-” You two start simultaneously, and laugh.

“You first.” Dean insists.

“Okay,” You bite your bottom lip, not knowing how he was going to take this, especially with the glance at your lips, but you have to say it. 

“Listen, Dean. As glad as I am that we found each other,” No, it’s all a lie. I wish we never met. “I cannot commit. I don’t want to be in a relationship.” I’m scared of getting hurt.

Seeming disheartened, he averts his eyes, “I understand. Where do you want to go from here?”

“I honestly don’t know.” You respond, “I mean, we can start from being friends? Get to know each other?”

You don’t know why but you feel like you owe him that much. 

Or rather, you owe it to Chris to try at the very least.

But when you had met Dean a few hours ago, there was a shine of hope and excitement in his eyes on finally finding a soulmate which you knew you never had. 

“I can work with that.” There is a flicker of a smile on his face. “So, not in the hunting game anymore?”

“Nope, had some personal reasons.” I met you. “I think I want to get in again.”

 “You can join us on this one.” Dean suggests, his hands fumbling with the buttons on his flannel. 

“Sam won’t mind?” 

He snorts, shaking his head. “He won’t.”

“So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You get up, straightening out your clothes.

“Sharp at 9. Looking forward to it.” Dean gives you a toothy smile.

When you pull the door close behind you, you hear a soft murmur of ‘Looking forward to it… Couldn’t think of something better? Dumbass.’

You make the short walk from the motel to your shared apartment with Chris which is pretty much uneventful. But then, when you’re walking up the stairs, you end up meeting him just as he’s walking downstairs.

You’re both awkward as you stop.

“I - uh, saw your stuff was still in.”

“Yeah, I’m leaving tomorrow morning.” You look him up and down, wanting to remember him as he is for as long as you can.

There he stands, a good foot taller than you, in his usual jacket over a printed T-shirt style. A smile that was usually goofy was replaced with one tinged with sadness, one that didn’t reach his beautiful blue eyes as you are used to.

“You take care now, Y/N. And you can leave the keys next to our bed when you leave.” 

“Of course,” you nod with trepidation.

Chris takes your hand in his, and it’s when you notice the night bag on his shoulder. “Y/N just… Please don’t forget me.”

“I don’t think I can even if I wanted to, Chris. What you gave me, what we had, was special.” You try to soothe him with a quick squeeze.

With a last peck as he crosses you, he exchanges way more emotions than words ever could and finally bids you farewell. 

Part 5 (Coming Soon on Tumblr/ Read it on BuyMeACoffee Now!)

I’d love to hear what you think of it! Please like, reblog and comment to let me know Xx

I just started a BuyMeACoffee Page where you can read Chapter 4 right now! Its kind of an emotional one where you have a difficult conversation which will determine where you will go from here.

My Page also has the first chapter of a new Dean Winchester X Reader story with the following summary:

Best friends Dean and Y/N navigate a world of supernatural challenges and unspoken feelings. Sam, the ever observant brother, and Cas, the ever puzzled angel of the lord, discreetly encourage their romance through late-night talks, teasing, and shared hunts. As tension builds and emotions simmer beneath the surface, their journey unfolds through this story.

READ IT HERE- SECRETS OF A HUNTER’S HEART

Find out what else I offer on my buymeacoffee page - HERE

It’s okay if you can’t support me monetory-wise right now, even reblogging my fics help a lot!

Tags in reblog, please reblog this fic if you wanna be tagged in the next part Xx

Thank you so much for your support ♥

Yours Truly,

Vee 💕

[winchest09]

Yours to Protect - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Word Count: 4223

Summary: Y/N was a highly independent woman, focusing much more on her career than she did on men and relationships. She had no time to commit to something long term, opting instead to go in search of one night stands. It was fun, exhilarating, and freeing to be in control of her own life. No ties, no constraints, no commitments. Yet, while walking home after one mediocre night in the arms of another, she finds herself walking into something that would change her life…forever.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Swearing, talks of murder, talks of violence, fear, teeniest bit of fluff if you squint very very hard, sassy Dean, Sassy Y/N.  

A/N: Anddddd we’re back to normal - it feels so good!!  Thank you so much for reading this, I hope you enjoy the new add - let me know what you think if you have time - it means the world to me <3

I also want to say a massive thank you to my wonderful @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ for being my wonderful beta, and for kicking my ass where needed. Love you <3 __________________________

Get six weeks ahead on Patreon! __________________________

Yours to Protect Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Let me know your thoughts!

Y/N was infuriated, her veins burning with the anger that fuelled them as she furiously threw Dean’s dressing gown across her bedroom. Not only had he purposely rudely awoke her, something she was convinced of despite his denial, but now he was demanding that she change her name, go to work in a garage and pretend to be his girlfriend!? She dreaded to think what was coming next, especially with how she was not able to predict her bodyguards next movements.

With hands on her hips, she paced back and forth as she lowly muttered to herself, wanting to calm down a little before she went back downstairs to the man who had managed to push every single one of her buttons. Yet before all that, she had to put on the clothes she was wearing yesterday.

With disgust, she eyed the pile of cloth that was sitting upon the old wicker chair by the window. She had thrown them there not long after her shower, not caring if they got creased or not because in her tired state of mind, she forgot that she didn’t have anything else with her. It was either that, or nothing. So, with disdain she marched over and pulled at the jeans, hiking them up her legs before she roughly grabbed for the t-shirt and hoodie, both of them citing ‘police academy’ in white lettering which caused her to immediately stop in her tracks.

She couldn’t go outside in these, not when she was meant to be keeping a low profile. This was just like basic advertising that she was under witness protection…right? If she put those on, then she may as well wear a massive neon sign that said “I’m the one in hiding”.  But what else had she got? Y/N hated to admit it, but she was going to have to turn to her bodyguard for advice. Great.

With a heavy sign, and with said items held tightly in her hands, she marched over towards her door and pulled it open before she stuck her head out to yell for the man who had to help with this situation, “Dean!”

The journalist waited a few seconds, craning her head and angling her ear to aid her hearing to see if he had heard her but when she was met with nothing but silence, she let out a frustrated huff and raised her voice, adding an urgency to her tone. “DEAN!”

“What?!” He shouted back, heavy steps sounding on the stairs before he appeared at the end of the corridor, looking more than a little irritated at her disturbance. Still, within a few strides he was at her door, the wood only pulled back enough for her to pop her head through, not wanting to show him her bra covered breasts.

“I can’t get dressed,” she explained, watching how his frown quickly deepened with annoyance.

“Why the hell not?” He barked, crossing his arms across his broad chest as he stared her down. She knew he was doing this as a move to try and intimidate her, but it wasn’t working. If anything it only caused her to roll her eyes before she quickly threw the balled up hoodie and t-shirt in her fists at him, resulting in him stumbling to try and catch them.

“Do you not think this will ring alarm bells for people? You want to go to all lengths to protect me, so surely walking around town in police academy gear might raise some questions?”

“Well I can’t leave you here alone,” he argued, dropping the items he had in his hand to the floor carelessly, “That is completely out of the question.”

“So is me leaving the house with my breasts on show for everyone.”

Dean held her gaze for a good few seconds before he dropped his head with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with a finger and thumb. She knew he was going over options in his head, but she never anticipated him turning around and opening the door to the bedroom across from her. From her spot, she watched how he rummaged in a drawer that was just in view, before he pulled out an item and made his way back to her.

“Here,” he grunted, throwing a cotton t-shirt at her through the small gap her head was peeing through. She wasn’t as quick as him though at catching, so it fell to the floor, her eyes now trained on the light grey fabric that rested close to her feet.

“What the hell is this?”

“It’s one of my old shirts I left behind last time I visited, it’ll be fine for now,” he grunted as she bent down to pick it up, the cotton light between her fingers as she pulled it close to her chest. “Don’t get attached to it, we’ll get you some more stuff while we’re out.”

“Thanks,” she breathed, actually feeling grateful that he had thought of her in that respect. It didn’t negate his earlier actions though - those she was most definitely still pissed about.

Shutting the door not long after she had watched Dean walk away, she found the opening of the t-shirt and threaded her arms through the sleeves before pulling it over her head. When she looked in the mirror, she noticed that it had a faded Led Zeppelin logo on the front and it caused her to smile slightly. It was clear that this piece of clothing was old, and had been worn many times before now; it was also a tad on the large side, stopping at her mid thigh. Nevertheless, she made it work by tucking the front into her jeans just to attempt to make it a little more stylish. It would work for now, and ensuring that she looked the best that she could, she slipped her sore feet back into the heels she was wearing when she fled.

Feeling satisfied at her reflection and her appearance, she rubbed her palms against the thighs of her jeans before she exited her room and began the descent down the stairs towards her bodyguard. She might not be too keen on spending time with him, but she was more than ready to buy some clean clothes and more comfortable footwear. The sooner the better.

The journalist hadn’t anticipated him waiting for her though, and as soon as the kitchen came into view, their eyes connected. He was waiting against the long wooden table, his arms crossed across his chest as his eyebrows raised slightly at her appearance. Soon though, that cocky smirk she had seen so many times already adorned his lips.

“Hey look at that, first hour being my fake girlfriend and you’re already stealing my stuff,” Dean remarked, pushing off from his position as he checked his pockets for what she assumed were the keys to this place.

“Oh, shut up,” she whined exasperatedly. She was already so fed up with the situation, with him calling the shots and the idea of having to pretend he meant something to her. “So what’s the plan for today then, oh Master?”

Her sarcasm was paired with a mocking bow and a roll of her eyes, yet her actions didn’t seem to bother her bodyguard one bit. Instead, he just let out a low chuckle and flashed her a wink, “I prefer Sir.”

Y/N didn’t expect to choke on her own saliva but yet here she was, covering her mouth with her hand as she coughed and her eyes watered. She didn’t dare to look over at Dean, didn’t want to witness the smug expression that was probably painting his face right now as she tried to digest his words. Thankfully, though, he just continued the conversation without further comment on the matter.

“We’re stocking up on groceries, getting you some new clothes but first we’ll be stopping by the garage so Bobby can meet you before tomorrow.”

“Right,” she croaked, moving towards the sink so she could grab a glass of water.

“Oh, and then we need to sort out your hair like Sam suggested so keep that hat on will you?” Before she could even turn on the faucet, he threw the beanie she had been wearing at her before he turned to open the front door, not even giving her a second glance as he walked out and began to quickly check the area to ensure it was safe.

She had caught it easily, but stood a little dumbfounded as the words sank in. “You’re joking, right!?” Y/N called after him before she waited for a response, but none came. Instead, she marched towards the entrance of the house and saw him waiting for her on the sidewalk.  “Dean, I’m not changing my hair color.”

It appeared like her words fell on deaf ears as he didn’t even give a simple response, instead he waited for her to shut the door behind her before gesturing to the hill in front of him with his head.

“Come on,” he encouraged, pointing ahead of him as he began to take a step forward in that direction. “The garage is only up here.”

She hurried to join him on his path, the warm sun unrelenting as it beat down upon them and she could only let out a low growl in annoyance. Not only is she in full jeans, heels and Dean’s t-shirt, but she was also being forced to wear a stuffy black hat which would only make her sweat even more so than usual. What a great first impression that’s going to make!

“Why aren’t you listening to me?” Y/N huffed, rushing to catch up to him so she could at least stay by his side instead of trailing behind like a shadow. Although it was impeccably hard to keep up with his strides when her feet were sore and aching, whilst being cocooned in uncomfortable footwear.

“I have no choice but to listen to you, Princess,” Dean sighed, surveying his surroundings before he looked down at her and forced a smile. “Now, time to put your game face on. In this town, people peek through their curtains when you walk past, and everyone knows everyone.”

With that statement, she noticed how he offered her his hand, his fingers slightly wiggling in invitation as he looked at her expectantly. He wanted her to hold his hand, to start off the pretense that they were lovers already and they had literally just left the house.

“Seriously?” She asked, her eyebrows meeting her hairline as she stopped walking, causing Dean to come to a halt too.

“One hundred percent,” he confirmed, his arm still outstretched as an invitation towards her. When she didn’t accept it straight away, he was quick to give her a reminder of their conversation only an hour before. “Remember what we talked about.”

For fuck’s sake, Y/N thought as she eyed his palm before her vision travelled to that of his smug grin. She couldn’t believe she had been put in this position, that this was her only way of surviving. How on earth was she meant to convincingly act as though she was in love with this man when he irritated her so deeply? When a single glance from him caused all the fires of fury deep inside of her to roar as though they’ve been doused with gasoline?

But what was she to do? There was no other choice.

“Ugh,” she groaned, curling her nose a little before she entwined her fingers into his.

Almost immediately, he tightened his hold, clamping down on her to ensure that she wasn’t going to go anywhere without his say so. If she didn’t know any better, she would have guessed that he was worried about her running to get out of this situation, but who was she kidding? She wouldn’t be able to get anywhere far in the heels that she was wearing.

“You could look more happy,” Dean stated, breaking her from her wandering thoughts as they continued their ascent of the hill. “Your incredible boyfriend of six months has whisked you away to the beach to get away from all your crazy for an undetermined amount of time.”

“My crazy?” She spluttered, not believing the words that were falling from his mouth so easily. Of course, it wasn’t entirely a lie - her life had gone a bit cuckoo in the last twenty-four hours but he didn’t have to make it out like it was a standard, everyday occurrence.

“Yeah,” he agreed easily, shrugging his shoulders before he waved sweetly at a passer-by, an elderly woman walking her toy poodle on the opposite side of the street, her focus solely on them. “It’s been a bit shit for you lately. Your mom is on your back constantly about everything and anything, plus you lost your job. So, with my encouragement, I told you to write that book you always wanted and whisked you out here for inspiration.”

“Wow. What a lovely fake boyfriend,” Y/N muttered under her breath, hoping he wouldn’t catch it but she was out of luck for that one.

“The best,” came Dean’s quick witted response, sending her a side wink as she chanced a glance at him.

If there was one thing her journalistic instincts were telling her when it came to her bodyguard, it was that he most definitely had an intriguing and interesting story. There was much more than what met the naked eye, and she was curious as to what may lie beneath his stony yet cocky exterior. Every now and then, she’s awarded a little peak at the core of him, like rays of sun trying to penetrate a dark cave through the rocks that block the entrance. But she wanted to know more, needed to know what he was about because right now, she was getting a whiplash from his multiple personalities. From standoffish and rude, to thoughtful and kind, to this flirty yet cocky side of him. There was one constant that remained through them all though, and that was his arrogant need to be right the majority of the time.

“You got your name?”

“Hm?” His voice broke her from her thoughts, and it took her a few seconds to register the words he had muttered while she was lost inside her own head. Yet when they did sink in, her face morphed into one of a grimace. “Do I really have to change it?”

“It’s just a precaution,” Dean breathed, slowing his pace slightly as he could tell that she was starting to struggle on her feet. “If they find out who you are, they’ll hunt down and check out every Y/N until they find the right one.”

“But what did you tell Bobby?” She questioned, her brows furrowed as she awaited his answer. “Surely he knows right?”

“Actually no,” her bodyguard clarified, looking ahead at their path as they continued to walk. “He told me he was in need of someone to man the phones, and I offered both our services. I told you, he trusts me. Hence why you are meeting him today.”

“But…what if I don’t remember it? Or I don’t answer to it? Don’t you think that would be a little weird?” Y/N had a point, and she knew it. It was one that made Dean look at her in question, his green eyes reading hers as he mulled over her query in his head.

“Alright, then what about a nickname? Something you’re used to someone calling you that is not general knowledge?”

“I guess,” she trailed off, and she didn’t even have to think about what that could be, knowing that she had one that she was called all the time back in her hometown, “That would be...CJ,”

“CJ?” Dean asked, his voice raising a little at the end to indicate that he was clearly thrown off by the name that left her. “What does that stand for?”

“Does it really matter?” Y/N argued, feeling heat warm her cheeks more than the sun was already doing as she thought about the truth.

“As your fake boyfriend, yes it matters,” Dean stated clearly, one hand on his chest as though he was trying to reinforce his point. It was then that he stepped in front of her to stop her from walking, his gaze trained on her face as he not so patiently awaited her answer. God, he was so annoying.

“Ugh, fine!” She relented, throwing her free hand in the air in exasperation while her next sentence left her in a whisper, “Calamity Jane.”

“As in the movie?” he attempted to clarify, his lips already upturning as he continued to vocalise his thoughts. “As in the western musical?”

“As in Doris Day, yes,” Y/N grumpily clarified, not enjoying the way his mouth was now adorning a widening beam of joy.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he chuckled, falling back to walk beside her as they continued their journey up what felt like the never ending hill.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“The way you got yourself into this situation, the way you walked into me while I was carrying a full glass of red wine for my date…”

Oh my god, would he let this go already? Y/N shouted in her head, already tired of having this same argument over and over again.

“Okay one, this situation hasn’t got anything to do with me being clumsy by nature and secondly, you weren’t looking where you were going,” she clarified, poking him hard in his arm as that was all that was deemed appropriate considering they were out in public and she had a part to play.

“No no,” he disagreed softly, enjoying this moment far too much. “It was you that wasn’t aware of her surroundings.”

“You have your theory, I have mine,” she argued under her breath, not allowing him to win this just because she had to pretend to be his doting girlfriend.

“It’s not a theory, it’s the truth,” Dean contested, nodding his head forwards in a gesture for her to look ahead.

When she did, she noticed how a garage was coming into view, the building small but welcoming. There were a few cars out front, as well as a large workshop with its doors wide open and an old Volkswagen lifted into the air.

“In your opinion,” she hushed back, knowing that the closer they got to the place she was going to be working at, the less she was going to be able to state her piece.

“You’re infuriating,” Dean huffed, his good mood from moments earlier having dissipated now they were walking across the parking lot of the business.

“Feelings mutual,” she murmured, hoping that he wouldn’t hear it as the last thing she wanted to do right now was to have a massive slinging match in the middle of a car park and in front of people she had never met.

Before she could let her mind go any further though, an old yet seemingly happy man came out to greet them as he wiped his greasy hands onto an used rag that had been tucked into the back of his overall pocket. He looked kind, like the years had been good to him and it shocked her that out of all the places she could have laid low, Dean had chosen to put her here. The last thing she wanted was to get any civilians hurt just because she was an individual that was being hunted like she was a piece of meat.

“Dean!” The elderly mechanic bellowed, his arms outstretched wide for a hug as he approached, and her bodyguard happily obliged. She immediately attempted to let go of his hand, wanting to give them some space but Dean was not letting her go.

“Hey Bobby,” he said gently, a warmth to his tone that told her this man was important to him.

“And you must be his new girl,” the older man surmised, gently slapping Dean on his shoulder before he looked over at Y/N, extending his palm for her to shake.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you…”

“...CJ,” she finished off his sentence, looking quickly back at her protector who gave her a small smile of approval. Looking back at Bobby, she mirrored his happy expression before sliding her free hand into his and shook it.

“Welcome to my little slice of heaven, CJ,” Bobby said with a happy tone, turning towards his garage before he gestured for the pair to follow him. “I’ll be honest, I’m glad Dean decided to whisk you both down here as I am in desperate need of extra pairs of hands.”

“Business booming?” Dean asked, taking in his surroundings as they walked into the open working space. There were tools strewn about on various workstations, a small old radio in the back pumping out classic rock and a little office that was situated in the corner, its thin windows lined with horizontal blinds that were in desperate need of dusting.

“Somethin’ like that,” the older mechanic clarified as he guided them through the workspace, stopping short of a dirty and oil splotched door. His fingers wrapped around the brass handle, before he opened it and gestured to the highly messy inside. “You’ll be in here CJ. Answering calls, booking appointments, helping make sure the ship runs a bit tighter.”

“That I can do,” she confirmed, although she tried to suppress her shocked expression at the mountain of papers and folders that seemed to be in random piles all over the place.

“And Dean, we have a complicated repair with your name on it,” Bobby chuckled, motioning with his hand for them to follow him further into the back of the garage. It was there that her eyes fell upon bright red paint, the vehicle capturing her attention almost immediately; it was beautiful. “Old mustang, stubborn bastard; it’s right up your alley.”

“Sounds fun,” Dean chuckled, knocking his knuckles against the hood as he surveyed it, taking it all in.

Maybe working here wasn’t going to be so bad. She was going to be in her own little room, where the blinds could remain shut so she wasn’t going to have to permanently look at her bodyguard's face or remain in his immediate vicinity. That would be her own slice of heaven, her own piece of solitude away from the man that was currently in charge of her every movement.

“Benny isn’t here right now, else I’d introduce you to him,” Bobby continued, scratching at the beard that adored his chin. “He’s off putting his moves on Andrea down at the beach.”

To that, Dean let out a loud laugh and Y/N couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled in the corners when he was genuinely happy. “He still trying?”

“He never stopped. She certainly gives him a run for his buck, that’s for sure,” the mechanic chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back onto the hood of the mustang, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, we gotta run a few errands Bobby, but do you want us here at 9am tomorrow?” Dean questioned,

“Sounds good, kid,” the mechanic confirmed, “Look forward to having you both.”

“Thanks for the opportunity,” Y/N politely said, giving him a warm smile to match her words. She might have been irritated at the start about having to work somewhere while in witness protection, but now she had seen the place, she was starting to come around to the idea that it could be a good way to keep her mind occupied. She was still worried about bringing danger to this good man’s door though.

“No need for formalities, CJ,” Bobby huffed a small laugh before looking over to the green eyed man that was still holding tightly to her hand. “Dean thinks highly of you, he wouldn’t just allow anyone to meet his nearest and dearest, let alone work with them everyday. That means I know you’re going to do just fine here.”

He thought highly of her? She thought, Well we all know that’s an act.

Still, it gave her confidence that maybe they could actually pull this whole fake couple thing off, that they wouldn’t raise any suspicions as long as they kept their story straight and their game faces on. Maybe, just maybe, she would be safe here after all. But before her thoughts could wander anymore, before she could get lost in the mystery of Dean she was building up in her mind, the man himself tugged gently on her hand and brought her attention back to him.

“Come on, I promised you some new clothes,” he said sweetly, giving her a loving smile before he let go of his hold on her and instead, slid his arm around her shoulders. It was all for show, and the look the mechanic in front of them gave the pair confirmed the exact same thing that she was thinking. What a smooth motherfucker.

“Well, enjoy and Dean, I wish you the best of luck,” Bobby laughed before he waved them off with his cloth, “Rather you than me.”

——————————————– Chapter Eight - Coming 2nd November ——————————————– A/N: Hehehehe - what do you think is gonna happen next? ;) Let me know! Thank you for reading.  Tag list is open! If you want to be step into the darkness with me, then let me know HERE :)

Tags will be separate <3

[winchestergirl2]

April Fic Recs

I want to show some love and appreciation for the amazing fic writers we have here on tumblr, so I've started a reading rec list for the fantastic fics I read each month 💗

Many of these fics and blogs are 18+ only, and NSFW please heed the author's individual fic warnings and requests regarding no minors. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

2023 Reading Rec List

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Undercover chapter 2 @deanwanddamons

Authors Summary: Homicide Detective Dean Winchester and Detective Y/F/N Y/L/N go undercover to solve a spate of murders. 

Sweet Rides @thinkinghardhardlythinking

Authors Summary: Dean takes his new girl on an autumnal date with fairgrounds and pumpkins and haunted houses and a Ferris Wheel. It’s super fluffy and warm.

Five Minutes In Heaven @impala-dreamer

Leave A Message @jensengirl83

Sam Winchester

Bound Part 1 @sams-sass

Authors Summary: You learn something new about yourself, something that is brought on by a stranger. Your life is turned upside down when you present as an Omega and are immediately taken and kept away from him. Your Alpha.

Unchained Part 2 of Bound @sams-sass

Authors Summary: You learn something new about yourself, something that is brought on by a stranger. Your life is turned upside down when you present as an Omega and are immediately taken and kept away from him. Your Alpha.

What You Need Part 3 @thinkinghardhardlythinking

Authors Summary: Y/N had always been in love with Sam, from the very first moment they met. However, as fate would have it they were destined to be friends; best friends. Loving him from a distance had eventually meant her pain at her unrequited love had forced her to back away from the friendship. But then he called and told her he needed her. What was she supposed to do but help a friend in need?

The Boys

Soldier Boy

Hero Worship @rizlowwritessortof

Authors Summary: From the moment you met Soldier Boy, you knew the obsession would become  your life.

Dark Angel

Alec Mcdowell

Kiss It Better: A Dark Angel Fic @crashdevlin

Authors Summary: Y/n Cale is Logan’s little sister, who rejected the wealth as soon as she was able to and headed into the real world. Logan keeps track of her to make sure she’s okay, but when he hasn’t heard from her in a few days, he enlists the help of his least favorite Transgenic to find her.

Big Sky

Beau Arlen

Heartlines @waynes-multiverse

[dumpaaliyah]

this is kinda cute.

[wildgirllz]

Your camera roll if you hunted with Sam and Dean.

[zepskies]

Series Masterlist - Smoke Eater

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: "Smoke eater": a self-appointed slang term for a firefighter.

Get ready for an AU! Several SPN characters will make their appearances: Sam and John Winchester, Castiel as "Cas Novak," Ellen and Jo Harvelle, Jack Kline, Benny Lafitte, Gordon Walker, Meg Masters, Chuck Shurley, Nick (yes, even him), and more!

Series Tags/Warnings: (**18+ only!) There will be a lot of heart, a lot of fun, drama, heartbreak, protective Dean, and even a murder mystery. Rating for eventual smut, perilous situations, and other chapter-specific tags.

🎵 Listen While You Read: The Smoke Eater Playlist

Chapters:

Part 1 - Class and Style

Part 2 - Lieutenant Winchester

Part 3 - Got a Hold on Me

Part 4 - Rocky Road

Part 5 - Twitterpated

Part 6 - Just Casual

Part 7 - Cherry Pie & Lemon Drizzle

Part 8 - Likewise, Baby

Part 9 - Do Not Disturb

Part 10 - Toil and Trouble

Part 11 - Heart of the Home

Part 12 - All in the Family

Part 13 - Boiling Point

Part 14 - Message in a Bottle

Part 15 - The Good Part

Part 16 - Break Down the Gates

Part 17 - The Real Deal

Part 18 - V for Vendetta

Part 19 - Sacrifice

Epilogue - Easy as Pie

Series Complete!

Bonus One-Shots:

Coming soon…

🎙️ Podfic:

Listen to Part 1 in podfic form!

(Cover image and narration by @talltalesandbedtimestories)

Or listen to the official Idling in the Impala episode on YouTube:

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

Comment below if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[jordanmoreau]

I have you / Dean Winchester

→ dean winchester x reader, 1,4k words / fem reader

; in which certain feelings are made known, tongue tied and flushed cheeks♡

You watch absentmindedly from across the diner as Dean leans casually against the counter, a grin plastered across his face as he chats to the female server.

His T-shirt rides up ever so slightly as he leans forward and you cough awkwardly, shifting in your seat to face away fro him, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands as if to climb further inside it. Sam, who’s sitting opposite you with his nose buried in his notes, peers up to gives you a knowing look.

“He’s just being Dean,” he says calmly, nodding his head in his brothers direction. You freeze for a second, feeling caught. Sam doesn’t take his eyes off you for a prolonged second, wondering if he should reassure you some more but decides against it. He can tell you feel uncomfortable and so he moves his gaze from you.

It’s not that you don’t appreciate Sam’s attempt at comforting you. He had noticed your affections for Dean a while ago, watching the way you’d lean into him for comfort on every case or how you’d laugh at every stupid corny joke. You swallow, shaking your head slightly. It didn’t do you any good to keep pining after him.

It’s then that Dean returns to the table, a tiny piece of paper gripped in his hand. Your stomach does a painful flip when you notice it. The servers number? You look away again, focusing on the parking lot outside. Dean however takes notice of this, sliding into the seat next to Sam. Sam didn’t bother looking up at his brother and simply slid over a handful of pages, to which Dean rolled his eyes.

Dean instead turned his attention to you, mirroring you as he tries to figure out what you’re so intently looking at.

“What’re we looking at?” he says, startling you. He’s leant across the table, propped up by his elbows as he looks toward the parking lot and then back at you. He gives you a closed lipped smile when you don’t say anything.

“Y/N?” he murmurs softly. He’s close enough that you can smell his cologne. It overwhelms you a little and you sit back in your chair. His eyebrows knit together in confusion and he too sits back.

“Just thinking,” you reassure quietly, giving him your best “I'm okay” expression. It feels like a grimace. He searches your face for a moment and then nods, apparently accepting your words at face value.

—

The next evening, you find yourselves holed up in a motel, two rooms between three of you. You try not to look too alarmed at this at the front desk, the bags slung over your shoulders suddenly feeling like dead weights.

“Sam, can I bunk with you,” you ask instantly as you’re leaving the reception kiosk, hoping he can detect the pleading in your voice. Dean frowns at you, scratching his cheek with the back of his hand. Sam begins to agree when his brother interjects, stepping closer to you.

“What about me?” he pouts. Your heart pangs and you try to appear nonchalant, shrugging. He frowns again and Sam, who’s trailing behind you both, chucks the second set of keys at him. "Here,".

Dean catches it with his spare hand and mutters something you don't quite catch. Sam hums in agreement.

You decide to walk in front of the pair, needing to get in bed as soon as possible. Your whole body felt heavy and your feet dragged as you made your way down the hallway.

Dean follows you closely. It’s then that you recognize the right door number and plop your bags down on the door mat finally, groaning as your shoulder twinges.

“You okay?” Dean asks, his hand coming up to rest on your arm gently. You flinch for a second, not realising he was that close behind.

“Y-yeah,” you mumble, trying to ignore the way your arm felt hot under his touch. He rounds you now, standing opposite you at the doorway. He’s looking at you with an unreadable expression, lips pursed.

“Are you?” you ask him awkwardly. His stoic exterior breaks at that and he blinks at you, almost like he’s offended at the question.

“Am I okay?” he scoffs. He doesn’t answer you, unlocking the door instead. With ease, Dean pushes it open and gestures inside. You now blink back at him, not moving. "Ladies first," he deadpans.

“I’m sharing with Sam,” you say lamely. Dean ignores you, hiking your bags over his shoulder and entering the room. You glance back over your shoulder and see Sam entering the room on the far left. He turns back to close the door and shoots you an apologetic look. Traitor, you think.

You sigh, admitting defeat and walking inside the room, closing the door behind you. It’s nothing special, dank and small. Two beds are pushed against the far wall, sad beige comforters draped over cream white sheets. Dean is sat on the furthest one from you, jacket now discarded and hanging over the bathroom door. He's wearing a greyish blue shirt underneath, the short sleeves hugging his biceps tightly. It's your favorite on him. You shift from one foot to another, not knowing where to place your hands.

He’s placed your bags at the foot of your bed. You stand in the entrance for a moment too long and Dean notices. He always does.

“Are you going to sit down or am I gonna have to put you to bed myself?” he asks. You flush slightly, cheeks pink and move hurriedly towards your stuff, muttering a quick sorry as you do. Dean huffs loudly.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” he asks exasperatedly. His upper body is turned toward you. You don’t miss the note of worry in his tone and you feel guilty.

Usually you’d play along with playful banter or his flirty comments and he wasn’t used to your solemn expressions and your sad eyes. It made his heart twist in a way he wasn't used to. It was painful and he didn't like it.

“I’m just…”you struggle for the right words to say, feeling tongue tied. Admitting your feelings for him was just out of the question. God you wished Sam had roomed with you like you’d asked.

Dean waits patiently and when you don’t finish your sentence, he pushes himself off the bed. You’re perched on the end of the bed now and he crouches so that he’s almost eye level with you.

“Is it something I said, or did?” he questions you. Again, you feel guilty. You shake your head quickly, lips pressed together in a tight line. He makes a “hm” sound that sounds pained and you break.

“I’m just not feeling my best,” you lie, trying your best to meet his gaze as he listens. “It’s not you,”

Dean doesn’t respond for a moment and you think perhaps he’s bought what you’ve said. However he scoffs again. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

His tone is somewhat harsher than you think he means but his face is soft, lips slightly parted as he silently pleads with you. You fidget, not sure how to answer him. “You know I care about you,” he whispers. He’s closer then you had realized. So close that you swear he must hear your heartbeat quicken.

“Did you call that girl?” you ask weakly, taking a sharp intake of breath as you spoke. Dean stares at you blankly for a moment.

“Girl?” he says, bewildered. You nod slowly.

“The girl from the diner,” you say, eyes trained at the tv stand just past Dean’s head in your line of sight. You fidget again.

“Why would I call her? I have you,” he says. You can’t help but laugh at that, it sounding shrill and foreign given the mood. It echos against the silence of the room. It seemed just like Dean to lighten the mood by giving you some line, something to cheer you up. But when you finally look back at him his face is serious. There’s no sign of amusement.

“She gave you her number though, right?” your voice is barely audible. He hears you though and a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. He half rolls his eyes, clearly bemused.

“And that means I have to call her?” You look at him. So he wasn’t interested in her after all. Maybe Sam was right, he was just being Dean.

He cups your cheeks lightly with his callused hands all of a sudden and you feel like all the air leaves you. “I have you,” he repeats. You feel dizzy.

“Don’t I?” he asks softly. He searches your face as if worried you don’t agree. You notice the way his shoulders have tensed.

“Yes,” you breath. His shoulders relax and he flashes you the most Dean smile imaginable.

[pinkiebieberpie]

DATING DEAN WINCHESTER:

- he may not seem like it, but he is the biggest fan of cuddling,

- dean loves doing research with you, mostly because it always comes with lots of kisses,

- he is always touching you, he adores little, gentle and innocent touches,

- he also loves playing with your hair,

- and let's be honest he loves when you are playing with his hair; his head on your lap, just relaxing and you touching his hair, that's heaven for him,

- long car rides in the middle of the night!! talking about anything and everything, eating burgers at midnight, enjoying your time together,

- also making out in the impala ALL THE TIME; you sitting on top of dean, his hands on your ass, and of course it can get steamy,

- he loves cooking with you, when you two are alone in the bunker you always do that with a music, so you can sing and dance in the kitchen,

- dean is melting when you are on top of him during sex, he's a sub, but that doesn't mean he can't be more dominant,

- he just needs to be close to you, touching your hands, putting them above your head when he is the one making you feel good,

- this man loves taking photos of you: when you are doing chores around the bunker, when you are doing research, when you are reading, sleeping, when you are doing anything really,

- he also has a polaroid of you in his wallet,

- taking photos with you naked in bed after sex? yes.

- i was talking about cooking, but can you imagine baking with him?? "babe, can we make a pie?", "dean, again??", "i love pies and i love baking with you 😇😇" he's just a big, adorable baby sometimes,

- dean is an overprotective boyfriend even though you can take care of yourself,

- you are the one always winning rock-paper-scissors with him,

- he loves when you are wearing his clothes, especially when you are sleeping in his shirts,

- lazy mornings with him = breakfast in bed and big cups of coffee;

supernatural masterlist ++ tagging my sun @fleurfairie ☀️

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Princess & The Playboy Masterlist

Summary: NFL Quarterback Dean Winchester has had his eyes set on Y/N Y/L/N since their college days. Back then he didn't have a shot with her and twelve years later he has even less of one given his never ending string of girlfriends. Y/N's a classy girl and she'd never go for someone as cocky as Dean. But they share a unique source of pain and maybe he can get her to see past the flirt long enough to see the real him...

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 45K

Warnings: language, angst, family trauma/loss, kidnapping

A/N: This series is complete!

_____

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hey there, I was wondering if you could write a little Dean one-shot where he gets the reader to squirt?

hey, I hope you like what I wrote.

summary - dean gets you to squirt with just his fingers.

warning - smut, fingering, squirting.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let me hear you. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.” Dean curls his fingers as he says this, smirking as he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, back arching as your moans escape you and fill the room. “That’s a good girl. You’re so wet. So tight around my fingers.” 

“D–Dean! Too much!” You squeal, and your hand moves down and grips his wrist, holding on as you can’t decide if you should push it away or pull it closer, so his fingers reach deeper inside you. Your mouth drops open, and soft whimpers escape you, feeling your core tighten. Your eyes snap open as you feel something weird. “S–stop, I feel weird… What’s happening?”

Dean’s thumb rubs your puffy clit, curling and thrusting his fingers faster. “Don’t worry, sweetcheeks. It's a good thing. Just let go.” His mouth waters as he stares down at your dripping cunt, watching your cream coat his fingers. A smirk appears as you spasm, a pornographic scream falling from your lips as your juices squirt out of you, covering everything. Dean chuckles, pulling his hand out of your used cunt and toward his mouth, staring you deep in the eyes as he sucks your juices off his fingers. “Damn, sweets. You taste so damn good, maybe even better than pie.”

Your cheeks turn a rosy pink as you hear his words and watch him suck on the fingers that were just inside of you.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[alexsoenomel]

Camping Shenanigans

Summary: You like both brothers and you decide to go camping for Sam's birthday.

Pairing: Sam x Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , implied smut, kissing, fluff

Word count: 4.9k

Note: Not beta read. It has been sitting in my drafts for months. Enjoy!

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

"Camping? Are you serious?" 

"Yes, Dean, it's my birthday," Sam answered. 

"It was my idea," you chimed in as Dean shot you a death stare. "Kinda," You added.

***

It wasn't actually your idea. You just asked Sam a simple question:

“What’s something you always wanted to do but never had a chance to do it?”

He said camping. 

"Why do you ask?"

"Your birthday is coming soon!" You told him and stuffed your face with some scrambled eggs you decided to have that morning.

"So?" Sam was a bit confused. He never really cared much about his birthday. 

"Let's do something fun for your birthday. Every year is the same; Dean celebrates his birthdays hammered and dodging STDs like bullets, my birthdays are depressing because I'm always broke or sad or both, and yours…it's like you don't have birthdays." 

"So,do you wanna go camping for my birthday?" 

"Yes! And we can celebrate in nature with lots of alcohol." 

"I mean sure, but Dean's gonna –"

"Oh fuck what Dean says he's coming too."

***

"Kinda?!"

"It will be fun Dean, besides spending time in nature will be good for you," Sam said.

"Actually, concerning amount of booze and chicks with daddy issues are the only two things that are good for me, not this!" He still kept protesting.

"You're going, Dean!" Sam told him. 

"Fine, but if a snake bites me, I'm shaving your head!" 

"Yeah, yeah! Pack a bag, we're going tomorrow morning!"

"TOMORROW MORNING?!" Dean’s voice went an octave higher.

"Yeah, and I'm driving!" Sam smirked. 

"Not a chance," Dean simply said before taking a sip of beer. 

You and Sam found a wonderful campsite in Greenheart National Park in Wyoming and decided to book it, long before telling Dean. Two nights under the stars in the middle of nowhere sounded wonderful, but Dean still wasn't impressed. Even after telling him, it wasn't a traditional campsite – it had toilets, outdoor showers and all-inclusive breakfast, lunch and dinner – he still wasn't impressed. Dean being Dean - he was protesting and whining, right until you actually sat in his car and he started the engine. He didn't like the idea, but it was Sam's birthday tomorrow and he would go to the ends of the Earth for his little brother. 

The drive was long and seemed endless. Between trying to get comfortable, taking a nap, listening to music and eating snacks because of boredom, you couldn’t wait to spend time in nature and watch the stars. Sam was visibly excited, asking Dean every two hours where you were, explaining how to set up a tent, telling fun statistics about bear attacks which made Dean a bit uneasy. Sam’s inner child was slowly healing and yours was just happy to tag along. Dean's on the other hand…his inner child just wanted to get back to bed.

“This is going to be fun!” You laughed. “Dean, get ready to fight bears!” 

“Shut your mouth!” 

*****

After approximately 13 hours you finally arrived, far away from civilization. Everything was green, the sky was blue and the air was fresh. It was almost 9pm and even though it was May, it was a bit chilly.

"You will all get your tents, feel free to set up anywhere you like, but please don't go far away from the station," The bold man was speaking, aka the owner. He was a middle-aged man, very athletic and taller than Sam. Nice obnoxious smile too. "Dinner is in an hour and if anyone has to shower, showers and toilets are behind the gazebo. We will start the bonfire at 11pm if you wanna join. I'm making some good ol' homemade chips. Hope you enjoy your stay and please if you have any questions, concerns, I'm here."

"He seems nice," You whispered.

"Yeah, and bold," Dean added, clearly trying to sound funny. He tried and failed.

“He might be bold, but next to him you’re just a scrawny little bitch,” you clapped back, hoping it would sting him. 

“Ouch!” It did. 

Sam laughed.

*****

“So, do you want to share a tent?” You asked the brothers as they shared a look of concern. 

“Well…” Sam started, but was unable to finish his thought.

“Mmm..” Dean too.

They didn’t like the idea, so naturally you decided to go with it and ask the owner to give you the biggest tent he could find. “For the three of you?” The guy asked, pointing a finger at Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup. You were the last one to get your tent. Some people already found their spot and set up theirs.  

“Yes, the biggest one please. I don’t wanna be suffocated by these two.” 

The guy chuckled. “Roger that!” He then went into the storage room and started rummaging through his things. After a minute he came back holding a large black bag. “Here you go!” He said and tossed it to Sam. “That will do!” He also gave you three sleeping bags and you were off.

“Thank you so much!” You said. 

****

You found your spot far away from people next to a pine tree that was sticking out from the rest of the forest that was behind you. The hill was beautiful, grass perfectly cut, the sky covered in stars like freckles scattered all over, while the air felt colder than an hour ago.

“I have no idea what I’m doing!” Dean said, trying to see which part of the tent goes where, while you used the flashlight on your phone to guide him. 

“Let me!” Sam said and gathered all the poles in one pile. He read a thing or two about different types of tents and recognized you got the one with a porch aka ‘the fancy one’. 

“Well happy birthday Sammy!” You told him. “Congratulations on being one year closer to death!”

“Wow (Y/N), you sure know how to make a man feel like crap!” Dean scoffed. 

“What’re you talking about Dean? I praise him all the time. Both of you!”

“Yeah, praise my ass!”

“You do have a great ass!” You winked at him. Dean just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms looking offended. 

Sam laughed at your joke. “Thank you, but it’s not midnight yet!”  ***

An hour later, Sam finally set up the tent and Dean was already on his second beer. This campsite was known for having unlimited amounts of booze and Dean was one happy camper when he found that out. Meanwhile Sam was really proud of himself for setting up his first tent. It was spacious and brand new. When you put the sleeping bags in, you realized you were going to get squished by the brothers. The tent was big, but not big enough.

You liked that idea, considering your long history of liking both of them and not being able to decide. It had been over ten years and you still couldn’t decide. They both had qualities you desired in a man and were special in their own way. Sam’s height and intelligence made you want to climb him like a tree and never get down, while Dean’s perfect smile and snarky humor made you want to make him whimper under you. They were childhood friends and lived across the street, and since your parents liked to hang out you would see them almost every weekend.

Once they moved across the country you still stayed in touch - texted and called every once in a while, but your heart was aching for them. You missed them dearly. It all fell into place once you saw Sam one random Monday morning on campus at Stanford and your shenanigans started again. Dean decided more education was too much for his brain, so he opened a small music store in San Diego and was doing surprisingly well. You started hanging out again, going to pubs, having movie nights, game nights…

You and Sam would also visit Dean and everything seemed to make sense once again. You were like three peas in a pod – same but slightly different.

Over the years you learned how to ignore your feelings and push those thoughts away, and yet sometimes you'd catch your stomach flipping every time they would bring up past relationships or flings. They both didn't want to settle down, and while you liked the idea of it, you were picky and hadn’t found someone who was worthy of you to settle down with.

"Shower and alcohol?" You asked Sam, since Dean had already showered and was now on his third beer.

"Yes please."

Showering in nature was a first for you. You thought you were going to freeze but surprisingly even though you did, it felt amazing on your skin. You enjoyed the wind making you shiver. 

“How was it, Sam?” You said, stepping out of the shower in nothing but a towel. Sam actually took the time and got dressed in the wooden shower cabin.

“Cold.” He answered, his voice shivering. His wet hair was slick back, a blue shirt accentuating his muscles, while the gray sweatpants he wore particularly outlined his cock, making it hard to focus.

The things I’d do to that man are ungodly and borderline illegal.

SNAP OUT OF IT!

“And refreshing,” You added. 

“You should get dressed before you get sick.” 

“Okay, mother!” You rolled your eyes and went back to the tent.

Anything for you, handsome!

***

Dinner was delicious – Dutch oven mac and cheese. Everybody got one big full plate and it was better than you could imagine; very salty and cheesy.

It was nice to sit and look at the bonfire while eating your favorite childhood meal but soon you just wanted to get away from the people and loud noise. You stuck around for a few minutes, watching the fire and chatting with a few nice girls you met while waiting for dinner before your social battery completely died. You excused yourself and left. You weren’t in the mood for small talk anymore – Sam and Dean were a lot better at it than you and they were a lot more social too. You decided to watch from afar and sit on the porch swing that was looking directly at the bonfire surrounded by people having a great time. You were sipping your beer watching the fire go wild as the bold guy threw a few branches, making it stable enough to actually start making his homemade chips in the skillet. You felt like a kid again. The beer was just enough to relax you even though the taste wasn't the best. The stars decided to shine that night, while the crescent moon was too shy to show its whole face.

“Having fun over there?” You heard a familiar voice and saw a shadow of a person approaching you. It was Dean. 

“Yeah, just don’t feel like talking to people,” you told him. 

He sat down next to you and put his beer bottle next to yours. You exchanged looks in semi- complete darkness and made a toast. 

“Cheers!”

“Happy birthday to Sam!” You said, looking at Sam who was talking to a guy much shorter than him.

“I swear it was yesterday he was learning how to walk,” Dean told you. 

“You sound like my mother,” You chuckled.

Your mind was getting tired and since the swing was made out of wood, you were struggling to get comfortable. Your head decided to rest on his shoulder as you took a sip of your beer, eyes still on Sam. Your hands wrapped around his arm as you lifted your legs on the swing. His arm was firm and he smelled too good for your own good – something between leather and pines surrounding you. He seemed to be tense though, or at least that was what you thought.

“Dean, I don’t bite, unless you want me to! Relax!”

You couldn’t see but he just rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I’m relaxed!” 

“Well damn, you have been working out then!” You decided to compliment him. As much as you loved roasting him, making him feel good was also important to you. 

“Not so bad for a scrawny little bitch, huh?” 

“Shut up!”

***

The night was growing cold and you were getting tired. You didn't know the time, since your phone was back in the tent, but one thing you knew – it was time to go to sleep. The Winchesters were having a great time lingering in the crowd so you decided to leave them to have their fun and go to sleep. 

"Guys, I'm gonna go hit the sack!" You shouted from afar, since you saw, they were talking to someone – a man you didn't know and didn't want to know.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)?" Sam asked.

"Yeah I'm tired! Good night, guys!" 

"Good night!" They said in sync.

You snuggled up in your sleeping bag, shivering from the cold and realized; since you were sleeping on the ground you won't be able to get one hundred percent comfortable so the only logical thing was to take melatonin for sleep. That magic pill could make any surface feel like clouds and on top of that made you actually have nice dreams, since you didn't dream as much.

You took one pill and chugged a good amount of water. You were out in about 45 minutes.

***

Sam's lips were on your neck, kissing, biting, making you shiver; while Dean's lips went lower and lower. You didn't know which name to moan first, hell, you didn't know where you were, but it was blissful and a whole lot of sinful.

Dean's lips reached your panties and before he moved them to the side, he placed a kiss making you squirm. Sam's large hands were playing with your breasts while he couldn't separate his lips from your neck.

As soon as Dean's tongue touched your throbbing clit, you arched your back in pleasure. He was slow, and with the combination of Sam's rough kisses, your body was overwhelmed and feeling nothing but intense pleasure.

"Dean!" You whispered. “Dean!”

"(Y/N)?" Dean mumbled, his eyes half open, even though he couldn't see shit. 

"Sam! Fuck!" This time, a whisper, sounding more like a light moan of his brother's name.

"You kiddin'?" He was now fully awake and fully aware you were in fact not trying to wake him up.

"So good!" 

"I'll be damned!" He whispered, not really sure what to do. Sam wasn't saying a word so he figured he was in a coma since he had too many beers a few hours ago. You were squished between them but somehow ended up being closer to Dean so he decided to snap you back to reality.

"(Y/N)!" He whispered, this time a little bit louder. "Wake the hell up!" He said, trying to shake you to wake you up.

"Huh, what?" You finally mumbled as he violently pulled you back to reality. It took you a couple of seconds to realize it was, all in fact, just a dream.

"You snore like a buzzsaw!" He lied.

"Oh sorry!" 

And without saying anything else, you both went to sleep. It took Dean a couple of minutes though, since he couldn't stop thinking about what he heard.

Dirty girl. 

Was the last thing he thought before passing out.

****

The next morning you woke up well rested but in pain. Your body felt stiff until you stretched and actually got out of the tent. It was cold during the night, the air was fresh, but with the first rays of the sun came the heat, and you weren’t awoken by the sound of your alarm, it was the heat and stuffy air. When you looked at your phone, it was almost eight in the morning and time for breakfast. You were alone in the tent, Sam and Dean were already up. You got your toothbrush and toothpaste and went to do your business. You couldn't stop thinking about the damn dream. It was too vivid for your own good. The way Dean kissed you with his perfect full lips, Sam’s hands on your hot skin, their moans, groans and big girthy co-

“Good morning, princess,” you heard Dean say as you waited in line to get your breakfast sandwich, still sleepy. He wasn’t a morning person whatsoever so hearing him sound this jolly was strange. 

“Morning,” you didn’t even bother to look at him as you turned around and went to find a place to sit. People were already chatting, having their morning coffees and enjoying the fresh air, while you struggled to exist. It was too early to think, too early to speak and too early to be a human. 

Dean followed you after he poured himself another cup of freshly made black coffee. 

You lazily opened your sandwich from the wrapper and took a first bite; ham, cheese, ketchup, lettuce…usual stuff. It was a little dry for your taste buds, but it wasn’t bad. 

“How did you sleep?” Dean asked, sitting next to you. 

“Like a baby,” You mumbled, chewing. You could feel his eyes on you, as you turned to look at him, he was indeed staring back at you with a little smirk on his face. “What?” 

“Oh I bet you slept real good,” he teased. His deep and raspy voice was too close to your left ear, sending shivers down your spine, all over your body. You ignored it.

“What are you implying, Winchester?” You asked, genuinely confused, not really thinking about…oh. OH! You remembered. The dream. Maybe he heard you mumbling in your sleep. Do I sleep talk? You still played dumb.

“Dream a little dream of me and Sammy, eh?” His smirk was still there, you knew he wasn’t going to let it go. 

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” You replied. “Where’s Sam?” 

“He went Dora the explorer around the park.” 

Sam was both night and day. He enjoyed both darkness and light. The darkness was for reading and the light was for hiking and jogging.

After you finished breakfast, you poured yourself a cup of coffee that was now lukewarm. It still tasted like coffee when it touched your lips and still gave you that kick you needed. 

Dean was still keeping you company for some reason, he was close, too close and kind of getting on your nerves. You had a feeling he wanted to ask you something but swallowed all the words in the English language. You assumed what he was curious about, you just didn’t want to embarrass yourself. We are our egos after all, and in time we learn how to tame that part of ourselves and not let it control us. You weren’t going to blush and get flustered in front of Dean Winchester.

“What’s the plan for today?” You asked. 

“Did you dream about sleeping with me and Sam?” Dean evidently didn’t register your question. And he finally found the words. You choked on your coffee not expecting to be hit with a question. You didn’t expect that kind of question.

“You did!” He said as his face lit up in a second. 

“No, I didn’t.” 

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” 

He was a child. A man-child. He wasn’t going to let it go, not until you confessed. Sighing in frustration, you calmly put down your coffee-stained mug and looked him in the eyes. They were beautiful, greener than the forest around you.

“I did,” you confessed. 

“Yeah, I know I heard you,” he smiled, showing off his perfect teeth. He was beautiful but you still wanted to punch him in the face. 

“Can I drink my coffee in peace now, please?” 

“Yes, you may, sinner.”

The embarrassment you felt disappeared as soon as you saw Sam coming back from his little, to quote Dean, ‘Dora the Explorer’ adventure, all sweaty and ready for a shower. You weren’t embarrassed, you were horny. 

“Morning!” 

“Morning Sam!” You spoke. 

“Sleep well?” 

“Oh yeah, you bet she did!” Dean told him. You rolled your eyes.

Sam gave him a confused look not getting the joke. He doesn’t know.

“Awful, your brother kept making happy noises all night,” you lied. Figured you would get back at him for being a dick. Dean’s mouth slightly opened. 

“Dude, gross!” Sam’s reaction was more than welcome considering Dean hadn’t stopped annoying you ever since you had a bite of that dry sandwich. Once he left to shower, you turned to his older brother. 

“Don’t fuck with me!”

***

The day was cloudy and cold. Some people were playing board games and listening to music, some were reading their favorite books, while others went to explore the national park. You immersed yourself in the book you were currently reading, while Sam and Dean played Monopoly under the kitchen gazebo that wasn’t just a kitchen, it had a space for everything; space where you could sit and relax, a table, and two couches placed right across each other. A multipurpose gazebo: kitchen, dining room and a living room. Well, Sam was teaching Dean how to play and Dean was losing and cursing every few minutes.

“You were never good with money, Dean!” You chuckled, eyes still on the page you were reading.

“And you’re loud!” He sassed. You lifted your head to look at him and he just gave you a wink. You knew damn well why.

You elected to ignore it. 

Soon enough, it was lunch time: delicious goulash and for dessert, a slice of apple pie. 

“Warrior food!” Dean said, stuffing his mouth. 

He wasn’t wrong. The food was fresh and absolutely delicious. 

“Do you guys want to play volleyball after we eat?” Sam asked. 

“You’re joking?” Dean lifted his eyebrow. “I don’t do sports and I especially don’t do sports after lunch.”

“Grandpa!” You said and told Sam to count you in. 

 A few minutes later, the bald, good-looking dude came to say there was going to be another party, from 7pm to when everybody goes to sleep. He also said there was going to be lots and lots of alcohol considering it was a goodbye party. Dean was excited, you were too busy reading your book and Sam finally bankrupted his older brother. 

You ended up playing volleyball with Sam for almost two hours. He asked the bald guy if they had any volleyballs after lunch and the guy was more than happy to be of service. There was a small chunk of land which they turned into a volleyball court, far away from people who were hanging out around the gazebo and far away from Dean who decided to take a nap after eating too many slices of pie.

“Are you enjoying your birthday so far, Sammy?” You asked as you served him the ball which, he slammed a little too hard and it flew across your head. 

“Oops!” He said with an awkward smile. “Best one so far!” 

“Told you!” You raised your voice going a few steps away from the court to get the ball.

As you were playing and growing tired, you couldn't help but notice how tight his black t-shirt was, perfectly hugging his body as he started to sweat. His hair still a little damp, slick back and tucked behind his ears, his lower lip between his teeth trying to concentrate on the ball in the sky – the man was simply gorgeous. It was hard to concentrate on the damn game when your mind wandered.

How does his lips taste? Does he have a big dick? Probably. The man is huge. FOCUS! 

So many questions and no wins.

After losing 3:0, you decided to take a shower and get ready for the party. You were in the mood to drink and not get nervous around both brothers.

It was getting cold, so after a quick cold shower, you decided to wear your favorite pair of gray sweats and a very old Led Zeppelin hoodie your dad gave you a long time ago.

People already started drinking by the time you finished getting ready. 

"Hey, nice hoodie you got there!" Dean commented as soon as he saw you. One of the things you absolutely adored about Dean was his awesome music taste. You were both old schools. 

"You've seen me in this at least a hundred times Dean!" You chuckled. 

"And every time I'm going to tell you how awesome it is," he said proudly. "Where's Sam?" 

"Showering." 

"Again?" 

"Yeah, you know Dean, after physical activity you get all sweaty and gross," you told him and took a paper cup filled with red wine from the table under the gazebo. Suddenly, the familiar melody of Toxic by Britney Spears blasted through the speakers.

"It was sweaty and gross alright," Dean joked and like always, you rolled your eyes, and took a sip of the wine. It wasn't too sweet and definitely was cheap considering how watered down it was.

***

After three cups, you grabbed your fourth one as your vision started to blur. Your thoughts were scrambled, between being nervous because of Dean's annoying teasing, and not giving a flying fuck about anything and just wanting to let loose, but there was a sense of tranquility in them. You loved the idea of him knowing your dirty thoughts, and you loved even more watching Sam being simultaneously confused and stunning while listening to you two bicker. The alcohol wasn't helping you. The undying need to be in a delicious Winchester sandwich only grew stronger with each sip…

You saw Sam coming from the toilet after the shower and something in you snapped. You swallowed nervously before chugging the rest of the wine and decided to toss all the fucks you had out the window. 

“Hey, handsome!” You said, seeing his face change from content to a little nervous. You'd never called him that. 

“Hey!” Was all he could muster.

“In the mood for a drink?” 

“Sure,” he said. “But only one, and I'm out. I’m tired.” 

“Okie dokie.”

Sam's drink of choice was beer. Dean was somewhere in the crowd, nowhere in your sight. Perfect.

“Cheers!” He said. No matter how big or small his smile was, his dimples would always show on his cheeks and you found it adorable. He was adorable and his lips were much more kissable after almost four cups of wine. 

“Cheers,” you smiled back. “To you Sammy!” 

“I didn't tell you but you're a solid volleyball player.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “A solid player? Really? You won 3:0.” 

“Well, yeah because you're short, and for some reason your focus was nonexistent but your serve was excellent.” 

“I'm short?” You weren't offended by any means, he was in fact much taller than you, but still surprised he said it so bluntly. 

“Short and sweet?” He corrected himself with an awkward smile before taking another sip of his beer. 

“Sweeter than sugar, sugar,” you didn't know where that came from. It sounded kind of lame, you thought, so you quickly changed the subject. “And my focus was nonexistent because of your sorry ass.” You said before playfully tapping him on his shoulder.

“Me?” 

Something about the innocence of that man made you absolutely feral. You had a feeling he wasn't so innocent behind closed doors. The idea of his lips on yours didn't want to leave your mind as your eyes couldn't stop staring at him with pure, drunken adoration. 

“(Y/N)?” 

You wanted to speak but something told you to not use a single word of the English language. Instead, you pulled him by his black hoodie and crashed your lips on his. Surprisingly, he didn't pull away, his body was stiff for a few seconds before letting go and deepening the kiss, making you balance yourself on your tiptoes. You felt him cup your left cheek with his free hand as you bit his lower lip, earning a moan from him. His nose crashed against yours, tasting alcohol mainly from your lips, Sam felt his cock getting hard. It hit him that he was wearing gray sweatpants so naturally that was a sign to pull away. People around you were too busy singing ABBA songs to give a fuck. 

“Well…” Sam said, not knowing where his thoughts were as he instinctively looked down and saw the outline of his cock. “Crap.” 

Your gaze followed and you were happy it did. He was big, bigger than you'd imagined.

"Sammy, is that a gun or you're just happy to see me?” You winked. That was horrible. 

“Shut up,” he sassed back, giving you a bitch face he would always give to Dean.

He covered his groin with his hands, looking around awkwardly to see if anyone was looking. Of course they weren't. Everybody was either drunk or high or both. 

Suddenly Sam's gaze was fixed behind you as he visibly clenched his jaw. You turned around and of course it was Dean.

“Oh there you are!” You said with enthusiasm and kissed him, pulling him closer by his jacket. 

Sam was stunned, while you could feel Dean smiling before kissing you back and letting you put your tongue in his mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and enjoyed the softness of his puffy lips on yours. He was a lot gentler than Sam – more innocence but still the same amount of passion. 

When you finally broke away, your drunk self just mumbled, “You two are irresistible.” 

Sam was still visibly confused while Dean couldn't stop smiling. 

[winchest09]

Yours to Protect - Chapter Two

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Word Count: 2666

Summary: Y/N was a highly independent woman, focusing much more on her career than she did on men and relationships. She had no time to commit to something long term, opting instead to go in search of one night stands. It was fun, exhilarating, and freeing to be in control of her own life. No ties, no constraints, no commitments. Yet, while walking home after one mediocre night in the arms of another, she finds herself walking into something that would change her life…forever.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Swearing, murder, violence, gun violence, hostage type situation, fear, scary situation, threats, taunts.

A/N: Just a side note...this series has started to evolve into something I didn’t see coming - fake dating anyone? lol. Thank you all so so much for reading, it means the absolute world. Don’t worry - LO is dropping tomorrow too! 

I also want to say a massive thank you to my wonderful @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ for being my wonderful beta, and for kicking my ass where needed. Love you <3 __________________________

Get four weeks ahead on Patreon! __________________________

Yours to Protect Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Let me know your thoughts!

Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried her hardest to not make a sound, tiptoeing ever closer to where the tortured noise was coming from. They were bleeding from an alleyway, the high walls acting like amplifiers for every small sniffle and plea this poor person was making. Y/N knew she had to be careful, her every instinct screaming at her to run in the other direction but her journalistic curiosity prevented her from doing so. Maybe she could help whoever this was.

Carefully peering down the darkened side-street, she had to control the noises she wanted to make where her eyes landed upon the sight in front of her. There, knelt on the uneven cobblestone road, was a young man who must have been no older than nineteen. His head was pouring with blood, his cheeks bruised and swollen as his hands were currently outstretched in front of him, shielding himself from more harm. Circling him were two men, both dressed in long black trench coats as they sneered down at their victim.

“You’ve let us down, kid,” one of them spoke loudly, pushing on the young boy's head.

“P-please…p-please, I-I’ll do w-whatever you w-want,” he begged, panic evident in his voice as he tried to hold his tears at bay. He was terrified.

“Well we wanted you to destroy those files but instead…” the other man spoke up, cracking his knuckles before bending down to become face to face with his target.

“...they just disappeared,” his accomplice cut in, before making a mocking gesture. “Poof.”

“I swear it wasn’t me!” The young lad shrieked, his eyes wide as he frantically shook his head, “I’m telling the truth!”

“We don’t believe you,” the first man spat, his fist fastly connecting with the nose of his prey.

Y/N was mesmerized by the violence in front of her, disbelief flooding her veins as she questioned whether or not this was real. But when she heard the pain-filled screams that echoed off the cold stone walls, she realised that this was her reality.

“Last chance,” the integrator shouted, causing the journalist to jump in her spot.

“I s-swear, it’s not…I didn’t,” his victim sobbed, his face now beaten to an unrecognisable state. His body was tired, that much was obvious when he started to wilt onto his side against the cobblestone.

“Shame, I liked you.” The way the sentence was spoken by one of the assailants made Y/N’s blood run cold. It was emotionless, calculated and downright sinister. It was then that she heard the panicked whimpers of their victim, his feet desperately scraping against the floor as he attempted to push himself back further away from them.

“No…NO…PLEA-”

His voice was silenced.

A shot had been fired, the spine shaking sound reverberating off of the walls causing the journalist to jump in fear. Her eyes were wide, her mouth agape as she stood frozen to the spot, unable to move. Fear had paralysed her; she had just witnessed someone's life being taken from them, her gaze focused on the red streams that were currently weaving their way through the intricate cobblestone brick work. It was like time had stopped around her, allowing her thoughts that were moving at a million miles an hour to play clearly as she attempted to make sense of what she had just seen. But none of those deliberations were as prominent as the notion inside her head telling her to run.

Suddenly, and without hesitation, Y/N turned in her spot and began to flee the scene. She was in fear for her own life, and wanted to get away as fast as she possibly could. However, she was not expecting for one of her heels in her hand to collide with the wall she had been leaning against, causing a small chunk of loose cement to fall to the floor, and clatter against the concrete.

“The hell was that?” One of the men said, his words spat through gritted teeth before footsteps started to draw ever closer.

She needed to move, and she had to do it fast.

There was no time for mistakes, no time for false movements as one wrong step could see her life splattered against the cold floor just like Mr John Doe. She had to escape but there was nowhere to run. There were rows and rows of parked cars against the sidewalk, locked doors of closed businesses and run down apartment blocks but there was no immediate obvious retreat. Y/N had to be smart about this, had to think outside of the box and as she ran, her feet silent as her body trembled, her heart pounding in her ears, she turned down another alleyway. This was the only place she could go to get cover, because at the end, there was a blue metal door that would lead into an old publishing company. She had worked there when she was first getting into journalism, and if her memory served her well, she could gain entry without actually having a key.

With laboured breaths, and a million glances over her shoulder, she shakily pulled out her mobile before dialling emergency services. With one hand, she held the phone in place as she came face to face with her only chance. Her fingers shook as they wrapped around the small handle, but with all of her might, she counted on her subconscious and performed the small trick she knew she had stored away in memory. She lifted it up, while pulling back at the same time and when she heard the sound of the lock uncatching, Y/N had never felt so relieved in her entire life. Without a second thought, she rushed inside and pulled the door with her, ensuring it was locked securely and hoping that whoever those guys were, they wouldn’t know how to enter this building.

She rested against the cold stone wall behind her, wide eyes focusing on the shadow covered metal as she desperately listened out for any signs of company. For a brief second, she thought she was safe. However, when the echoes of precise footsteps began to become muffled through the walls, she knew that those killers were just on the other side of this barrier.

“911, what’s your emergency?” She heard the female dispatcher down the line, causing the journalist to jump in her spot, and to snap out of her trance-like state.

“I-I…” Y/N started, her voice low and timid so as to not draw any attention to herself.

“Here piggy, piggy, piggy!” The taunt was chilling, the man responsible for it  scraping some item against the wall outside. Judging by the sound, she could only guess that he was using his weapon.

“Ma’am? Is everything alright?” The dispatcher asked, causing her to refocus on her phone.

“P-please h-help,” she whispered, her body starting to slide down the wall as her gaze became trained on the handle of the blue door. She hoped he wouldn’t hear her, that she had found sanctuary.

“Did your parents not teach you that it’s rude to listen in on other people’s conversations?” The killer questioned, a small and sadistic chuckle leaving him as he kicked the litter that had gathered outside.

Y/N’s mind was unable to process that she had to find somewhere more safe than this, that one wrong move from her could indicate to the killers that she was just within reach.

“Stay on the line, I’m tracking your location through your call,” the woman on the phone stated calmly. “I’ve dispatched two patrol cars to your area, they’ll be there soon okay?”

“M-mhm,” was all the journalist could muster, her grip tight on the phone next to her ear, as her other fingers dug deep into the palm of her hand.

“The longer this takes, the more angry I become and you wouldn’t want to see my true temper, right!?” The man shouted, before a loud and metallic bang echoed down the alleyway outside. It sounded like he had kicked over a metal bin or moved a large dumpster but either way, it caused Y/N to jump significantly in her spot, a small squeak leaving her.

“Not long, they’re about a minute out,” the dispatcher reassured, but the journalist knew that those next sixty seconds would be the longest of her life. It was such a short window of time where anything could happen; fear had well and truly taken a grip of her heart.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!” The killer taunted, his cruel singing sounding like a twisted lullaby as the stones on the floor crunched under each of his calculated footsteps.

It was then that she prayed to whatever or whoever could be listening that she was going to make it out of this alive. Her ears desperate to hear the sounds of sirens, the alarms of safety that would coax her into believing that just maybe she was going to be okay. Yet she could only make out the beats of her heart that thudded against her ribs like a drum.

As she stayed rooted deep within her panic, her whole body jolted as a loud bang of metal echoed throughout the abandoned and littered hallway she was residing in. It took her a moment or two to realise what was happening, but then it became evidently clear. The killer knew where she was, and he had begun forcing his way in. Her time was running out, and she had to either choose to move or face the oncoming threat. But where would she go? There was nothing to hide behind, and knowing there was also a second accomplice that was most likely positioned at the only other exit, she was trapped.

Before she even had the chance to choose, the door was ripped open and in those few miniscule seconds, Y/N was convinced that it was her end. Time slowed as her eyes focused on the tall, dark shadow that loomed in the now open frame of the building, and her breath got caught in her chest. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t scream, she couldn’t run. Like a deer in the headlights, she was frozen to the spot with fear.

She had never imagined her death, being a woman that much preferred to live in the moment and focus on the present, but now faced with this imminent threat, she wished it was different. Wanting to pass peacefully in her sleep, having lived a good life. Not suffering at the hands of another, painfully wheezing for life as a bullet became lodged in her chest. Not hoping that her killer would be merciful and choose to aim for her head instead.

The shadow moved quickly and finally her body allowed her to react. Her hands covered her face as she cowered away from the intruder, her sobs bleeding from her lips as she silently pleaded to see another morning. Not like this, please not like this.

“Hey, hey. You’re safe, you’re alright.”A deep voice reassured her, and braving a look between her fingers, she watched how this stranger crouching down to be at her height before he quickly showed her his police badge, proving to Y/N that he was no-one to be in fear of.

It was then that she took a second to take in her new company; he was tall, dressed in a shirt, a tie and a long black coat that stopped mid thigh. His hair was dark in color - in the shadows she could only assume that maybe it was a chestnut brown - and it stopped just below his jawline. He looked nothing like the killers she had seen down the alleyway, and it was upon that realisation that a mixture of relief and morbid understanding washed over her.

“No!” she panicked, shaking her head from side to side. That small offering of reassurance from him wasn’t enough. “ No they murdered somebody! I saw it! They were hunting me down!” she exclaimed. “How is any of that alright?!”

“Because we’re going to protect you,” he offered, his tone warm and comforting as he gave a small, sincere smile. “What is your name?”

“Y-Y/N,” she stammered, her heart still beating erratically as she stared into the kaleidoscopic eyes of the officer in front of her. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

Upon hearing that information, his smile widened a little and he offered out his hand for her to take as he slowly began to stand. “Y/N, my name is Sam Winchester and I'm a Detective Sergeant. With your permission, we’re going to head back to the station.”

“What if they see me?” the journalist flustered, slowly pushing her phone back into her pocket. “What if they’re still out there!?”

“We have a car that is reversing into the alley, and here-” Sam shrugged off his coat quickly and handed the item over to her. “Use this to cover your head until we get there.”

Y/N took it, cautiously but grateful all the same. Now her heart rate had slowed, and the adrenaline from the situation was starting to dip, she realised that she was still barefoot and dressed in a strangers shirt. She wanted out of those clothes, and into a very hot shower to wash away everything from that evening. “I just want to go home.”

“Let’s get you checked over first, then I’ll need a statement. But after that, I’ll take you home,” he told her softly and with that promise, she took his hand and began to push herself up off of the floor. Once standing, she wrapped his clothing around her shoulders, grateful for the warmth and in preparation to use it to conceal her identity.

With a nod, she told Detective Winchester that she was ready to move into the car, when another officer came rushing in from the outside. “Sir.”

Sam quickly looked to his side, his brow furrowing when he noticed the stark expression on his colleagues face. When his eyebrows met in the middle, he gestured towards Y/N with one finger, before he moved to stand next to the young man that had come bustling in, bowing his head to lend an ear as he listened to whatever new information had been found.

Of course, all the scared journalist could do was watch the situation unfold in front of her. Her gaze trained on each facial tick the detective gave as the panic that was still so evident in her chest began to resurface. Something was wrong, and she knew it.

“Shit,” Sam pushed out, pinching the bridge of his nose, risking a quick glance back at her before his focus was back on the younger officer. “You sure?”

His company nodded quickly before the detective grimaced and placed his hands on his hips. Y/N wasn’t stupid, she knew something  was amiss here, and that the whole situation was a lot bigger than she had originally thought. Considering her occupation, she was well aware of most of the crimes that went on in this city, and if she was honest, she was already looking forward to writing a scoop on this one when her nerves had calmed. But with the way Sam was looking at her; concerned, perplexed, troubled - she knew that she had landed herself deep in the middle of some serious shit.

“What? What’s going on?” She pressed, taking a tentative step forward as she watched the younger officer exit the worn down old publishing building and step into the street.

“Y/N, I need to get you to safety immediately,” Sam instructed, his tone serious and firm as his hand came to wrap around the top of her arm. His touch was gentle however, even when he started to force the coat over her head for her own privacy. “As soon as we’re at the station, I’ll explain everything.”

——————————————– Chapter Three  ——————————————– A/N: Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnnnn. Thanks for reading! Tag list is open! If you want to be step into the darkness with me, then let me know HERE :)

Tags will be separate <3

[apocalypseornaw]

In Every Life

"Dean!" You squealed laughing and dodging the water balloons your husband and daughter were pelting you and your son with. It was a warmer night and summer so the two of you had decided to let the twins stay up late, complete with setting a projector up in the backyard to watch a movie.

Everything was calm while you and Henry watched the movie, it was a shared favorite but you should've known they were up to something when Dean and Ellie snuck into the house. A few moments later you heard Dean call your name right before a water balloon exploded between you and Henry.

Turns out Dean had filled a bucket with water balloons and a few dozen small water guns were hid around the yard. Pretty soon Sam and Jess had heard the laughter from next door so the two of them, Lexie and Eric had joined as well.

The playing field was even enough, dads and daughters versus moms and sons. You were soaked to the bone but laughing hard enough you had tears forming in your eyes, especially when Sam slid down in the mud.

Once the water balloons were gone and the guns empty Jess rounded the kids up "C'mon all you little Winchesters. Go get dry and pjs on. I'll go hit the pantry for smores supplies"

Once the two of you were alone you turned to look at Dean and he grinned before pulling you into his arms "Sweetheart, I'm not gonna lie you look like the most beautiful drowned sewer rat I've ever seen" you slapped his chest playfully "And yet you're the one who fell in love with this sewer rat" "How could I not?" He replied before pulling you into a kiss.

"See what you needed to in this world?" Bobby asked from where he stood behind Dean. He nodded "She really does choose me in every life" Bobby stepped up to put a hand on the younger man's shoulder "I told you that. That girl would choose you over anyone. Sam will take care of her in your world until she makes it to your side but she'll never stop loving you. The two of you were made for each other. Some worlds you get your happy ending, some worlds it ends big and bloody but she's always at your side no matter the world"

Dean felt an ache in his chest, remembering how sad your eyes were that day but he hoped you'd live a long time before joining him. Then the two of you wouldn't be separated again.

[holylulusworld]

The one that got away (1)

Summary: Your best friend breaks your heart.

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, unrequited feelings, time jump, regret

A/N: This is a little gift for @elle14-blog1 for her birthday. It’s today, so happy birthday, lovely. And, I decided to turn this story into a mini-series. 😁

The one that got away masterlist

Dean Winchester would never break your heart. Right? He’s your best friend. You used to be thicker than thieves. Until. One day. You decided to tell him how you truly feel about him.

You wanted more than being his best friend. So, one day you decided it’s time to step up for yourself and tell him you want more. Much more.

Sadly, Dean didn’t require your feelings. He stammered your name, telling you he was sorry, but doesn’t feel the same. It was worse that he hugged you and told you he’s going to be your friend if that’s enough.

You shook your head and choked out his name. “No,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I think we cannot be friends any longer. I love you, and it’s killing me inside. If you are my friend, you’ll understand that we can never see each other again.”

That day, you walked away with a heavy heart and tears in your eyes. Deep down in your heart, you knew it wasn’t his fault. Sometimes you just fall in love with the wrong person. You cannot force them to love you.

This doesn’t mean it won’t break your heart to cut ties with them…

A few years later, …

Today is a good day. It’s not only your birthday, but the day conference you have been waiting for. You just got a promotion and love your new job. But the best is, that you feel cute and self-confident in your brand-new dress. 

“Y/N, are you ready for the conference?” Your colleague asks. She nervously tugs at her blazer; eyes darting from you to the arriving participants of the conference. “I’m a little nervous. Uh-I hate talking in front of people.”

“Just imagine them naked and you are golden,” you chuckle at your own boldness. She gasps at your words and slaps your arm. 

“That’s not helpful.”

“Hmm…” you nod and drop your eyes to the notes in your hands. You’ll be the one opening the conference and now, you are a little nervous too. “Maybe we should take a deep breath and relax a little. They are all people, and no one is going to bite us if we make a mistake.”

“I wish I could,” she whines. “Wish me luck, Y/N. If I embarrass myself in front of all these strangers, I’m going to drown my sorrows in cupcakes.”

“Phew, I made it.” Half an hour later your colleague stands next to you, sighing deeply. “I won’t do this again. I’m telling you; my panties are soaked.”

“What?” You choke on your spit.

“I sweated like a nun in the church,” she whispers. “I wish you look. I’m going to grab the largest coffee and a dozen cupcakes to celebrate I didn’t embarrass myself.”

You chuckle as someone calls your name. It’s your turn to hold your speech, and you only hope you won’t ruin this. Speaking in front of many people is not your favorite task, to be honest.

While you walk toward the front of the room, you feel all eyes on you. 

You take a deep breath and sort your notes. “Hello, and welcome. We have been looking forward to this conference. All of us.” You smile at the people listening to your words. “Let me introduce you now to our newest project. The one we will be working on together. Cheryl will guide you through the presentation. You can ask me and her questions later.”

Cheryl, your assistant starts the presentation, and you step a little to the left to take the only free seat next to a man who has his back on you and the presentation. 

“Sir, you should turn around. The presentation is—” Your heart stops beating for a minute when the man turns around. A pair of familiar green eyes meet yours. You just stare at him – the man haunting your dreams and thoughts.

“Hello sweetheart,” he casually says, as if you parted ways just yesterday. Dean smiles that million-dollar smile making a woman weak in the knees. Damn him, he still can make your heart race. “How have you been?”

Dean watches you nervously shift in your seat. The presentation and your assistant long forgotten, you drink his features in. There are a few lines around his eyes, and his hair is a little longer. He’s wearing an expensive suit and a tie, but he still looks like the cocky guy who used to be your best friend.

“Good,” you finally reply. “You?”

“Good, I guess,” he clears his throat. “I mean, I like my job, and I still got my car.”

“Baby?” You can’t help but smile. “How is the pretty lady?”

“Still pretty,” he leans closer and brushes his thumb over your thigh. “Not as pretty as you, sweetheart. You look pretty in that dress. Blue suits you.”

“Now you try to charm your way out of this unexpected encounter,” you slap his hand, and chuckle. If only your heart would stop beating out of your chest close to him. “How’s Sam?”

“He’s a lawyer now, and married to Jess,” he says. “You remember the blonde he met before you left town?”

“She was nice.” You clear your throat. “They made a cute couple. I knew there was something special between them.”

He nods, but his eyes sadden a little. “So…are you already married to Mr. Fantastic?” 

“No, I—” you fake-cough. “I was busy making a career and building a life. I didn’t have the time to get married and such.”

“Same. I’m still the untamable bachelor looking for the one.” Your heart flutters when he looks at you. There is something in his eyes you didn’t see before. Sadness, or regret maybe.”

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “Finding the one is hard. People are…you know.” You shrug. “It’s difficult to fulfill all the things they look for in a partner. I didn’t fulfill anyone’s standard yet.”

“Y/N, you are perfect. Why would you want to change for a guy?” He squares his jaw when you look away. Dean knows who made you feel this way. 

Cheryl calls your name, and you reluctantly leave your seat to talk about your presentation and the project. 

Dean watches you every move. He licks his lips and leans back in his chair. Dean nervously runs his hand over his thighs, trying to calm his nerves. Seeing you after such a long time woke a longing in him.

There is more than the flutter in his heart when you shyly glance in his direction. If he allows himself to be honest, Dean knows that deep down in his heart he let his soulmate go back then… 

The one that got away (2)

Tags in reblog.

[jackles010378]

Flannel of Desire

(Dean Winchester X you)

(mentions of intimacy nothing too graphic)

Dean catches you wearing his flannel and likes what he sees 😏

Dean walked into the kitchen of the bunker, his eyes scanning the room for a snack. As he turned the corner, his gaze fell upon you, wearing one of his favorite flannel shirts, sleeves rolled up as you diligently cleaned the countertops. Something inside him stirred, a feeling of attraction that he couldn't ignore.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching you intently, his mind racing with thoughts and desires. The way the shirt hugged your curves, accentuating your every movement, sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't deny the rush of arousal that surged through him, and he knew he had to make a move.

Slowly and deliberately, Dean approached you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Hey there, I see you've found my shirt," he said, his voice low and husky. You looked up, surprise flickering in your eyes.

"Yeah," you replied, a faint blush tinting your cheeks. "I hope you don't mind. It was just lying around, and I couldn't resist."

Dean took a step closer, his body now mere inches away from yours. He reached out, his fingertips gently tracing the fabric of the flannel against your arm, sending tingles of electricity through your skin. "Trust me, I don't mind at all," he whispered, his voice heavy with desire.

The chemistry between you intensified, the air in the room thick with anticipation. Dean's hand moved from your arm to your waist, pulling you closer to him. His hypnotic green eyes locked with yours, a mixture of vulnerability and longing shining through.

Without another word, Dean's lips met yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire within both of you. Time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other, the taste and warmth of each other's mouths becoming intoxicating.

Desire surged through your bodies as you stumbled towards the bedroom, leaving the kitchen forgotten and the cleaning abandoned. The intensity between you was undeniable, an electric current drawing you closer with every touch, every caress.

Inside the bedroom, clothes were shed like a trail of breadcrumbs, each discarded garment fueling the excitement. The plaid shirt, once innocent, was now a symbol of provocative desire. The soft fabric slipped off your body, revealing your vulnerability and awakening a raw hunger in Dean.

The room became a canvas of discovery, as your bodies moulded into one, exploring one another with unbridled passion. Skin met skin, creating a symphony of sighs and moans that echoed through the walls. Pleasure surged through every nerve ending, the connection between you reaching new heights with each passing moment.

In that moment of pure intimacy, there was no denying the magnetic pull that had brought you together. Dean, with his rugged charm and smoldering passion, had become an insatiable force in your life. It was a night of unforgettable pleasure, a culmination of desire that left you both breathless, sated, and yearning for more.

The following morning, Dean woke up, stretching his arms reaching out for you, only to realise you had gone. He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of joggers and a hoodie and went in search of you. As he made his way down the halls, he could hear you humming. Yet again he found you in the kitchen preparing breakfast for you both, wearing nothing but his flannel. Leaning against the doorframe again he looked you up and down "you know y/n, you keep wearing my shirts, we're never gonna make it out of my room". You placed the wooden spoon on the counter top and turned around slowly to look at Dean "is that a promise Winchester" you replied with a smirk. It took a second for Dean to walk over to you, tugging you close to him and pressing his lips to yours in a fiery kiss. Pulling away leaving you breathless "oh it most certainly is, I will gladly give you all my shirts to wear" he said with a huge smile, kissing you once more.

In that moment, you knew that his flannel had been the catalyst, bringing you both together in a whirlwind of ecstasy. A reminder that sometimes, unexpected encounters can ignite a fire that burns brighter than anything either of you could have imagined.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck

[zepskies]

Make It Right

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Summary: He didn’t mean to claim you. Not like this. Not before he’s meant to die.

AN: This was requested by this lovely anon. I've written Dean returning from Purgatory, so here is Dean returning from Hell in season 4, but with a twist…my first venture into A/B/O! Sorry if I didn’t get the dynamics quite right, I’m still learning this one. 😘

(@luci-in-trenchcoats Thank you for the encouragement! 💜)

Word Count: 4,300

Warnings: 18+ only! For smut, A/B/O dynamics, angst, mentions of torture, PTSD, and hurt/comfort.

You could’ve wept with relief.

You nearly did. Instead, you shuddered as his tongue swept along the fresh mark near the back of your neck.

A mark that claimed you as his.

Your core still quivered with the aftershocks of how hard you came around his cock, which was still buried deep inside you, locked in place with his knot. Dean nosed at your neck and shoulder as he tried to regain his breath, calm his wildly beating heart.

His skin was dewy against yours, especially where your thighs were hooked around his hips. He held himself above you so he wouldn’t crush you with his weight. You appreciated it, and you soothed up and down his sweat-slick back with grazing fingertips.

Through the newly formed bond, you could feel the frenzied haze of it all begin to clear from his mind, soon replaced by shock, and then, remorse. It made a tremor of worry churn in your belly.

“Dean?” you whispered. Your gaze met his with concern as you grasped his arm.

“What the hell did we just… I shouldn’t have…” His voice was coarse and his eyes filled with upset. “Fuck, this shouldn’t have happened.”

Dismay struck you deep, along with a pain that tore at your heart. Your only consolation was that the two of you were locked in this position, so he couldn’t slip away from you.

“How the hell could you say that to me?” you said. Against your will, your voice trembled. Tears began to sting in your eyes.

 Dean faltered. He blew out a breath and reached for your cheek.

“You know why,” he said. His face became edged with desperation. He shifted his thigh and accidentally tugged at the base of his knot. You both groaned at the pain that flared between you, where you were joined. 

Dean drew in deep, slower breaths in attempt to calm himself. His eyes shut, and his forehead dropped against yours.

“I’ve barely got three months left on my deal,” he said, through clenched teeth. “This isn’t…it’s not fucking fair to you.”

To you either, you wanted to point out, but you shook your head and held him close by the back of his neck. Your fingers trailed up into his hair, your nails brushing his scalp and eliciting a shudder from him.

Your touch both aroused him and soothed him. Your scent was everywhere, now mingled with his own that now covered you like a blanket. It was intense, and a bit overwhelming to his senses.

But it felt right.

“Don’t talk like you’ve already given up,” you said tersely.

It was with more vehemence than he expected. Dean pulled back a bit, just enough to meet your eyes. Your brows had drawn together, almost in anger. Your lips pulled into a frown.

“We’re going to find a way to break it,” you said. You reached up and held his face. Despite the strength of your words, your hands were gentle. “And I meant what I said, Dean.”

Between lusty sighs and the combined magnetic force of your heat and his rut and emotional tensions at their ultimate breaking point, the whispered words against his neck had come from the very center of you.

“Alpha,” you’d said, through abject need and burgeoning tears as you’d rubbed yourself against him. It was both biology and your heart’s longing. “Dean, I love you. Please…”

The tether of his restraint hadn’t lasted long after that. Because even though he couldn’t respond to you in words, he’d shown you in each and every action of his body molding with yours, wrecking you and claiming you on a dingy motel bed.

You deserve better, Dean thought, looking down on you now. You deserved more than what he had to give.

“I didn’t want to do this to you,” he said coarsely.

And yet, he still heeded the pull of you. Your guiding hands brought him down to your lips. It wasn’t the rough, manic, bruising kiss that had fueled your earlier passions. No, this was slow and warm and tinged with bittersweet.

Dean brushed sweaty strands of your hair away from your face. You held him to you and silently prayed that he wouldn’t let go either.

“I know,” you said. Even though the situation shouldn’t have warranted it, you giggled a little. “That makes you just about the most unselfish Alpha in existence.”

He snorted at that. His eyes took in your face, and further down, to the parts of you that weren’t covered by his body over yours. He let out a breath of defeat.

“No, I’m hella selfish,” he said. His lips quirked. “For better or worse, you’re mine, Omega.”

Your smile grew. “Good. Glad you’re finally caught up.”

Dean’s hand playfully tightened in your hair as he growled. It had little heat though, and you had the audacity to laugh. He shook his head and claimed you with another kiss.

You had to be just about the wiliest Omega in existence.

Dean never gave up.

But he also couldn’t fight off Lilith, or the hellhounds that tore his chest open and spilled his blood on the hardwood floors of some poor family’s suburban house.

You screamed as if your very soul was being ripped apart, along with his skin.

The mark on your neck burned something fierce. It had you clamping a hand down over it as you sunk to your knees next to Sam and cried over Dean’s body, his unseeing eyes. It wasn’t right.

You would never be right again.

It took about a week into your self-isolation. When you finally drew enough strength to get out of bed, you finally noticed it in the mirror—in the bathroom next to Bobby’s guest bedroom.

Your neck looked as if something had burned you. Your eyes widened in horror.

When you touched it, you hissed at the pain. The delicate nerve endings of your mating gland were even more sensitive and raw. Apparently, this was what happened when an Alpha mate died before their Omega.

However, even that pain was nothing compared to what you discovered, two months later.

Your mating gland had healed, and the claim mark was gone entirely.

You sank against the wall, all the way to the floor, and you cried until you were exhausted and frayed. Not even Bobby’s offer of a hot meal and a listening ear could penetrate your grief.

You were ashamed of the way you lost track of Sam after it all went down. You’d descended into yourself, and Bobby had been the only one there to catch you. Sam had forged on by himself, down a spiral of revenge, you were sure.

He wouldn’t come back to Sioux Falls, nor would he tell you where he was when you finally got him on the phone. He claimed he was better off alone as he tried to find a way to save Dean, but there was something off in his voice. Something that told you whatever he was doing was dangerous, and wrong.

“Sam, don’t you dare make a deal,” you demanded, through frustrated and sorrowful tears. “Dean wouldn’t want—”

“Don’t fucking tell me…what Dean would want, okay?” Sam seethed. “If it were me, he wouldn’t stop. If it were you, he wouldn’t stop. So don’t tell me to stop.”

“I’m not telling you to stop!” you shouted back. “I’m telling you not to do something stupid! And I’m asking you to let me help.”

There was a long pause on the line. You tried to calm your labored breathing as you waited for him.

“If you really want to help me, do what you can from Bobby’s. I’ll check in when I can,” he said.

And the line went dead.

Two more months had passed by the time you started to feel the barest hint of yourself again. You’d tried to go on a hunt with Bobby, but you really hadn’t been ready for it. Your head wasn’t in it, and that was how hunters got killed.

So you stayed behind and answered the phones for him. You pretended to be FBI and CIA and Homeland Security for fellow hunters trying to get their hands on police files.

You also helped Bobby with research and reorganized his extensive, and ridiculously chaotic home library. He was the only one you knew who could have A History of Paganism next to a guidebook on Chinese tea ceremonies.

But one night, you decided you were sick of sitting on your ass (and all the dust).

You were finally going out for a drink.

Bobby was locked at home in research for a case. You felt bad about bailing on him, but he insisted you were entitled to go out…

Not that you wanted to meet anyone. However, you did realize that you needed to reconnect with the outside world. You’d been staring at the peeling walls of Bobby’s house for four months now.

So you showered, found a simple black dress from deep in your closet, and started to blow-dry your hair. You didn’t do this often, but if you were going out, then you were going to make an effort.

You paused for a moment when a cramp hit your lower belly. You grimaced and pressed a hand there. A shiver ran down your spine.

Shit, not now, you thought. If this was your heat coming on, you would have to take another suppressant before you went out. You knew blocking your cycle wasn’t that good for you, but you hadn’t felt like dealing with it for the past few months. You just weren’t ready to go through another heat, whether by yourself, or with a stranger.

It…it was too soon.

After the cramping subsided for the moment, you continued drying parts of your hair, sweeping the brush through. With the hairdryer so loud in your ears, you didn’t hear the front door opening, or the resulting shouting and scuffle coming from downstairs.

Eventually, there was quiet. And then, heavy boots climbing up the stairs.

You saw the bathroom door push open out of the corner of your eye. You turned and nearly jumped right out of your skin.

Your scream echoed on the walls when you saw something that looked entirely too much like Dean Winchester.

Hit scent hit you then. Warm and musky, a hint of earthiness and soil, but no less familiar. It struck a blow to your chest and forced you to grip the counter for balance. You clicked off the hairdryer. 

The doppelganger raised placating hands, though his wide eyes slowly softened as a smile tugged at his lips.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said.

His deep voice was the same. He looked dirty and disheveled, wearing a familiar gray buttoned down over a black shirt, his usual jeans, and boots. If your memory served, they looked like the clothes he was buried in…

Your hands shook. “Wh…what the hell are you?”

Dean’s smile began to fall.

“Look, I know it’s hard to believe. But I’m me. I’m, uh… I’m back,” he replied. When he tried taking a cautious step forward, you brandished your hairdryer against him—your only feasible weapon.

“You…you back the fuck off!” you snapped. You opened your mouth to shout for Bobby, but before you could, Dean’s trademark smirk took hold of his face.

“What’re you gonna do, blow me to death?” he quipped.

After you broke through a bit of your shock, you spluttered with laughter. And then tears.

Dean’s lips quirked, but he moved towards you in slow steps. He took the hairdryer from you and set it down on the counter. With a slightly shaking hand, he touched your cheek. You closed your eyes for a moment, sucked in a breath, and inadvertently inhaled his scent once again.

Your heart pounded almost painfully in your chest. Your fingers curled into the front of his shirt. You realized it then. You didn’t need silver or holy water to prove it was him. You knew.

Your eyes opened and met his.

“Dean,” you uttered, brokenly.

He couldn’t fucking take it anymore. Dean pulled you into him by your waist. He held you as you shuddered and cried into his chest. His hand clenched in your hair, while the other pressed into the small of your back. It anchored him, and trapped you in the cage of his arms.

He buried his nose into your neck and had to squeeze his eyes shut past a telltale burn in his eyes. Your name fell from his lips, both longing and reverent. Your hold on him tightened.

His lips brushed against your mating gland, igniting sensitive nerve endings and making a tremble run down your spine.

“Alpha,” you whispered.

Dean’s insides clenched in response. He ached for you, just like he had soon after he’d been able to free himself from that pine box in the middle of nowhere. But his brows furrowed.

He pulled back from you, just so he could brush the bare skin along your neck with a gentle thumb.

“What happened to the mark?” he asked. He realized that he couldn’t feel you, not like before. And even your scent was different…like you’d never been claimed by him. Like you weren’t his. That realization hit him like a sucker punch to his stomach.

You frowned and leaned back so you could meet Dean’s eyes. It took you a moment to find your voice, and even when you did, it was uncharacteristically small.

“After…after what happened, it burned like holy hell,” you confessed. Your hands travelled down his chest, clinging to the open edges of his shirt. “Then it was a scar. Then, it was just…nothing. It was gone.”

Fresh tears burgeoned in your eyes. They spilled down your cheeks as your frame shook with a sob, but Dean gathered you back into his arms. As shitty as it was, he started to think this was actually for the better…

“What happened, Dean? How are you here?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Haven’t figured that part out just yet…but something broke me out.”

He knew it wasn’t you who made a deal. Your shock was too real to be an act. He knew, however, that he needed to find Sam.

That could wait though. Dean’s gaze roamed your face. He wiped away the remnants of tears from your cheeks, brushed his thumb across your lower lip. Your eyes met his. He saw your heartbreak begin to fade—into a desire that called to his own. Despite the voice inside that warned him to hold back, he just couldn’t help himself.

When he finally leaned in to kiss you, it felt like coming home. You held his face in your hands and rose up on your toes to meet him. His arms wrapped around your waist and brought you flush against him, but it wasn’t enough.

Kisses became more frantic, with labored breaths and hands moving to remove each other’s clothing. Your sexy little black dress fell to the floor, along with your bra and panties and the rest of his clothes.

“You’re filthy,” you laughed, between the sloppy meeting of your lips with his. 

Dean’s response was to peel back the shower curtain behind you and turn on the shower head, as hot as it could go. A growl sounded low in his throat before he bodily hefted you along with him into the shower and under the spray.

For a moment, he let the scalding water beat down on him. You grabbed the soap and drew it over his neck, chest, and shoulders. The suds trickled down his body, washing away the grime of the road, and whatever else he hadn't been able to wipe off after escaping his grave.

He blinked water out of his eyes as he took in the sight of your concentrated face, and your gentle hands washing him. Then the rest of your body, your curves that fit so well in his hands, your breasts that heaved along with your heavier breathing, nipples hard and aching to be touched.

Dean took the soap from your hands and put it back on the dish, shortly before he pinned you against the cold bathroom tile. He ravaged you with lips, teeth, and tongue along your neck, down your chest, and over your breasts. You moaned and held him to you.

You didn't care that your hair was getting soaked all over again. Your fingers ran through his now wet hair as he touched you and drew pleasure from your body.

Your lower belly was beginning to cramp in earnest now, and resonating deep inside you with heat. You felt a flood of slick forming between your legs as your core pulsed with need.

Your scent hit him in a powerful wave, nearly making Dean falter as his eyes rolled shut.

“Fuck. You’re in heat, Omega,” he choked out.

You nodded, though you had to fist a hand in his hair when you felt his fingers between your legs. They swiped between your drenched folds, gathering some slick and circling around your clit. You moaned loudly and arched against his hand. The back of your head pressed into the wall.

“Alpha,” you said. A whine sounded in your throat as Dean’s touch firmed in response. His thumb pressed and massaged your clit while two fingers slipped deep inside your tight channel. 

A shiver ran down Dean’s spine, along with your nails grazing down his back. Already he was painfully hard for you. He had a suspicious feeling that your heat was triggering his rut, because he was becoming desperate to be inside you. His whole body felt tingling and alive, and charged with need.

His lips sucked hard on those sensitive nerves between your neck and shoulder, making you gasp. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers.

“That’s it, Omega. Want you to come just like this before I fill you up,” he muttered. He earned your vocal agreement in response.

But then it hit him.

Flashes of memory. Darkness and blood. Agony tearing at his skin and insides.

And then, inflicting it himself, on other souls just as damned as him.

Your moan of release just barely managed to pull him out of his own mind. He felt your wetness coat his hand. Goddamn.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised. And yet, while his body caged yours against the wall, he couldn’t force himself to continue. He couldn’t back off either. He was fighting every instinct in his body that demanded he take you, right here and now.

“Dean?” you asked, sensing his hesitation. You cupped his cheek, but he didn’t want to look at you.

“I can’t,” he ground out.

Your eyes widened as shock and dismay threatened to overtake you. “What?”

Dean’s eyes closed. He was trembling with the force of both his need, and his restraint.

With a frown of concern, you wrapped a thigh around his hip, but he wouldn’t heed your attempt to bring him closer.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. No, you demanded to know. Because your body was quaking with desire as well. You needed his knot, and you wanted nothing more than for him to make this right—to claim you as his.

But Dean looked like he was in pain. He winced and pressed a fist against the wall by your head. He pressed his forehead against it.

You tried to comfort him with your hands soothing over his shoulders. There you finally caught sight of a mark on his right shoulder. It looked like a burn…a handprint. Your eyes widened with a small gasp.

He followed your gaze, but he eventually looked away with a frown. It was like he didn’t even want to acknowledge it, even if he didn’t know what it was. Whatever had hauled him out of Hell, he doubted it was anything good. 

“I’m, uh…” He breathed raggedly through his nose. “I’m not…the same.”

You had a feeling it was very difficult for him to admit that.

Four months.

That was how long he’d been lost to you. That was how long he’d been in Hell. You couldn’t even imagine…

You swallowed past a lump of sorrow, but you weren’t deterred. You grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“You were my Alpha long before you claimed me,” you told him.

That affected Dean, probably more than you knew. He still shook his head though.

“It’s not right, Omega,” he said, even as his voice trembled. You don’t have a fuckin’ clue… You don’t know what I’ve turned into.

The water from the shower head was growing cold, but you’d never been hotter. The cramps were starting up again in earnest, making your teeth clench at the combination of pain and incredible arousal.

“I need you,” you said, through frustration, heat, and emotion all at once. “I would never leave you like this. I would never leave you.”

His eyes closed again, briefly. His breath came out harshly through his nose when you touched his cheek. Your touch was gentle, but it still ignited his skin and made every muscle in his body coil tight with strain.

It was hard to sort through the base instincts that were on the verge of taking over his mind, and then his body. Deep down though, Dean knew you were right. He knew you would never leave him. And that was kind of the problem.

“Alpha, please,” you said, through your own strain. Again, you took his face in your hands and shook him. It drew his gaze to your face. Your beautiful face that he’d seen over and over in the Pit, used as his own personal form of torture.

His whole body trembled.

You saw his distress, and it pierced your heart. You leaned up and brushed your wet cheek against his, while your fingers slipped into his hair in comfort.

“You’re here. You’re alive,” you said. “And you’re here with me.”

You nuzzled your way down his neck and pressed your lips to his mating gland, making him shiver for a whole different reason. You pressed your body against his and kissed, licked, and sucked at his skin.  

“Omega,” he warned, but the growl in his throat was more pleased than warning. He felt your nails graze down his chest and sternum, and soon enough your hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.

He sucked in a breath and pressed his face into your neck. His lips ventured tantalizingly close to the place you wanted him the most, and all the while you stroked him along sensitive flesh. Your thumb circled around his knot, and the dripping head.

“I know you need me too,” you said. You could smell his rut. Your lips edged at a smirk, and you decided to bluff. “But if you won’t make me yours, maybe I’ll find another Alpha who will.”

It didn’t take long before a vice grip closed around your wrist. Dean’s irises were rimmed with black when he met your gaze, half consumed by the Alpha as he pinned you harder against the wall. He grabbed your thigh and hooked it around his hip. And with the other hand he guided his cock to push into you and stretch your inner walls, inch by inch.

You both moaned in relief when he was firmly seated inside you. Your core throbbed around him in a spasm of pleasure. You cried out and rolled your head back against the wall, your nails sinking into his shoulders.

“Alpha,” you shuddered.

“I got you, Omega,” he ground out, just barely holding onto the tethers of himself. His fingers coiled tight into your wet hair and began to pound into you, a rough clip that had you gasping, toes curling as you arched against him.

His lips found your throat and laid a nipping kiss there. All you could do was hold on desperately. You knew he was close when his thrusts grew ragged, when it became harder for him to push into you with the swell of his knot forming. But it wasn’t until his fingers slipped between your joined bodies and circled more insistently over your clit that you came along with him, hard on his throbbing cock.

His teeth sunk into your neck, creating a newly forged bond through a haze of pain and pleasure. You cried out again at the force of it all—the sensations were nearly overwhelming, even more so than it had been the first time he claimed you.

And Dean nearly slipped in the tub.

“Fuck!” He managed to catch himself on the soap dish and the adjoining wall while you grabbed his arms steady. Shit, that really could’ve been disastrous, considering you two were now locked in place.

He glanced down at you. Through wide eyes and panting breaths, you broke first with a giggle. Dean’s lips curved with a smile. Soon enough, he was chuckling too.

The black around his irises receded, and he held you more gently and secure against the wall. After licking the line of blood clean from your neck with a slow, sensuous tongue, he brushed your wet hair back from your face. Then he turned off the frigid shower. 

“We really shouldn’t have done this in here. Shit,” he said with a laugh. How were you two supposed to get to your bed? Or at least get dry.

You giggled harder and dropped your forehead against his chest.

“It’s okay,” you said teasingly. “I think this is worth catching pneumonia over.”

Dean shook his head at your antics, but he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. Smiling bright, you leaned up just enough to reach his lips. Your kiss was slow and tender; a release of your grief, a grateful thank you, and a reminder all at once.

“I love you,” you whispered. “That’s all that matters. We’ll deal with the rest afterwards.”

Dean expelled a long breath. He nodded after a moment, conceding defeat.

“I love you too,” he admitted. And he meant it, down to his bones. 

He knew that afterwards wouldn’t be as easy as you seemed to think, but there was no turning back now.

You were his. 

AN: And there we have it! lol This was definitely a fun challenge. I might like to try my hand at A/B/O dynamics again in the future, but let me know what you think of this one. 😘💜

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