#dean x reader fluff

[alexsoenomel]

Being loved by Dean Winchester would include: (you being clueless edition)

Constantly staring at you when you are not looking.

Him being a little too overprotective at times, especially on hunts.

Making sure you are safe at all times.

Making you morning coffee when you're too cranky to get out of bed.

Listening to you talk about things you care about.

Showing you his collection of classic rock tapes and vinyl's.

Admiring your pretty face when you're sleeping.

Sam telling him to get it together and tell you how he truly feels.

"I ain't telling her shit."

"Dude you're more than obvious."

"No, I'm not."

Always checking you out because he loves the way skinny jeans look on you.

Calling you sweetheart.

Having a hard time whenever you decide to have fun with someone every once in a while, but obviously hiding it.

Loving the fact you have the same music taste.

He always lets you pick the music whenever he's driving.

"Excellent song choice." He would tell you.

Buying you ice cream, pads and pain meds whenever you get your period and spending time with you in bed watching movies while you sleep.

Playing with your hair whenever you fall asleep during movie nights.

Whenever a guy tries to flirt with you and you nicely tell him to fuck off he is proud.

You two have the same lame dad humor and he loves it.

Letting you drive Baby and not panicking about it.

Every time you smile at him, he falls in love a little bit more.

Loving the way your eyes sparkle whenever you're talking about something you're passionate about.

His favorite season being summer because he gets to see you wearing beautiful summer dresses.

You in a leather jacket makes him drool.

Always being the one telling you to be careful on a hunt and yelling at you whenever you do something stupid and impulsive.

Whenever you argue he always hopes it would end up with you on top of him.

Daydreaming about the concept of you two being together but never doing anything about it.

Loving your cluelessness because he's too scared to say anything.

[ninii-winchester]

Only Girl

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 1.8k

Warnings: smut, oral (m & f receiving), dirty talk, spanking, language, age gap. MDNI NSFW

Part 2 to One of your girls

A/n : I wrote smut for the first time so go easy on me please.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Still pressed against the wall outside the bar, Y/n whimpered waiting for Dean to make a move, Kiss her, touch her, just to do anything. Dean squeezed her hips once before pulling away. She turned around to look at him, her face turned into a small frown. Dean chuckled as he noticed her disappointment.

"As much I'd like to give everyone a show like you did, I'm not fucking you outside a bar for our first time together." Dean said dragging her towards the Impala. The drive back to the motel was quick and the she didn't waste anytime walking inside. Dean slowly followed behind her.

Y/n started walking towards their room but stopped when she saw Dean stopping at the counter, "Room's this way, Dean." She pointed her finger to the hallway. He looked at her but didn't respond, instead he clicked his tongue and turned back to the clerk. She watched him put his credit card on the counter, getting another keycard. Dean took his time walking them to their new room and it was making her go crazy. She wanted him bad, she needed him to fuck her into next week but his unhurried and slow moves were driving her nuts.

He opened the room and let her walk in first, her heart was beating loudly in her chest, anticipation getting the best of her. The moment he stepped inside the room his lips were on hers. Fucking finally. She desperately kissed back, grabbing the back of his head pulling him closer. She let out whine when he pulled apart.

"So needy." He tsked gripping her waist.

"Dean please." She whispered batting her lashes at him. He smashed his lips to hers again, his hands moving down to grab her ass. A moan escaped her lips as he landed a slap on her left ass cheek. He let his tongue graze hers, moving in perfect synchronisation. He picked her up and slammed her back into the door, not breaking the kiss.

"Fuck." He pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily. "Do you really want this?" He questioned in all seriousness, if she wants to stop better now because he knows if he went any further he won't be able to. She nodded her head. "Words, baby."

"Yes Dean, fuck me." Dean groaned when he heard her say that. "Hard." She added and Dean's eyes darkened. He put her back on her feet.

"You have a safe word, sweet girl?" He asked in his deep voice. Y/n could feel her pussy clenching around nothing and clit throbbing.

"Cherry." She replied. Dean nodded before pulling away completely. He walked backwards and she took a step but he stopped her.

"Didn't ask you to move, did I?" He questioned sitting on the edge of the bed and she shook her head, taking a step back. "Now strip, and crawl to me." Whatever self respect she had left, after the bar stunt she pulled, went flying out of the window as soon as those words left his mouth. She worked fast to get off every piece of clothing off her body, once she was completely naked she dropped to knees and crawled towards Dean. She stopped right in front of him, he gave her an approving look. "Good girl." He said grabbing the back of her hair. "You're such a slut for cock aren't you, pretty girl." He pulled her body up so she was sat up straight.

"Only for you cock Dean. I want it so bad." She whimpered, feeling an ache in her throbbing cunt.

"I know sweetheart, isn't that why you acted like a whore in front everyone." Dean taunted unbuckling his belt. He grabbed both of her hands and tied them behind her back using the belt. He unzipped his pants, pulling them down to his thighs, he pulled out his hard dick from the confines of his boxers, Y/n licked her lips watching the pre cum oozing out of the tip. "Now suck like the cockslut you are." She didn't waste a second before wrapping her lips around the tip, sucking it like her favourite candy. Dean threw his head back as she swiped her tongue on underside of his shaft, she then took the whole length inside her mouth, deep throating him, "God fuck baby." He snapped his hips, fucking her mouth, Dean sucked in a breath as she choked on his dick, breathing through her nose. He pulled her hair harshly. "Fuck, that mouth feels like heaven."

She continued licking and sucking, hollowing her cheeks intent on making him cum but Dean had other plans. He grabbed her head to pull her off him but she tightened her lips on his cock, he yanked her off harshly, a string of saliva drooled down her chin. He glared at her.  "You're fucking insatiable." He pulled her to straddle his thigh, he could feel her juices coating his bare thigh. His knuckles brushed against her clit and she gasped. "So fucking wet, just from sucking my cock."

"I've been a good girl haven't I? Make me cum please." Y/n whined. She was getting impatient, she needed her release now, without a thought she started grinding her pussy against his thigh.

"You've been good, go on fucking rut against my thigh, make yourself cum." Dean leaned back on his arms watching her struggle to move on his thigh with her hands bound. Tears of frustration pooled in her eyes and she let out a loud whimper.

"Dean please, need to touch you, I wanna cum on your cock." She cried and he grabbed her face kissing her, at was all teeth and tongue clashing, his hand left her face and moved behind her to undo the belt. As soon her hands were unbound she pulled at his shirt, borderline close to ripping it off. Dean flipped her, so laid on the bed. She moved a bit up and laid her head on the pillows. Dean kicked his jeans and boxers and joined her on the bed.

Dean spread her legs open revealing her glistening pussy. "Look at that, such a pretty pussy." He dragged his fingers over her folds making her clutch the sheets tightly. He didn't waste another second before latching his lips onto her clit, sucking harshly. He then shoved his tongue inside her. "Fuck tastes so good." He groaned into her pussy. "I could stay here forever." Y/n grabbed the back of his head and pushed it to her core. She locked her legs on his shoulder keeping him in place.

"Oh God yea, fuck don't stop." She yelled as Dean continued lapping on her juices. "Yes baby, I'm so close."

"That's it baby, say my name." He groaned, pushing two fingers knuckles deep inside her cunt. And she screamed his name, loudly. "Let everyone know who's making you feel so good." He moaned against her clit, scissoring his fingers inside her, hitting her sensitive spot that made her see stars. "Cum for me, sweetheart." And she did. Hard. she felt her whole body shake as her orgasm came crashing. She panted heavily, Dean continued to suck on her clit making her push at his shoulders slightly but he didn't move, he went on relentlessly, overstimulating her. "Dean fuck." He felt her clench around his fingers again, indicating her approaching orgasm. Dean chuckled darkly before he abruptly pulled away.

"Dean what the fuck." She looked down at him.

"I'm still in charge, hot stuff. You cum when I say you cum." Dean smacked her ass sitting up. He grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her closer to himself, settling between her legs. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around her right nipple, his tongue circling the hardened nub while one of his hands groped her left tit. She reached down between their bodies and grabbing his cock, rubbing the tip over her folds. Dean slapped her tit harshly, "such a whore." he said pulling away from her nipple. "You just can't live without cock, can ya?" Before she could answer he gripped her hips tightly and slammed his cock inside her cunt making her back arch from the bed. He didn't let adjust before pulling out and shoving it back in.

"Oh Dean yes fuck me." She bit her bottom lip as he continued to fuck her at a harsh pace, he pushed her legs over his shoulders, hitting her deep from the new angle.

"Look at that tight little cunt taking me so well." She heard Dean groan above her, his gaze locked on where their bodies meet. Her walls clenched around his length, he continued thrusting, hitting her g-spot. He smacked her ass multiple times, "You're squeezing my cock so hard, you like being spanked, little slut." He landed a few more slaps to her ass, "Is this what you wanted?" He wrapped his hand around her throat, "Putting up a show at the bar, begging for my cock, little slut couldn't even wait for me to get another room. You wanted me to fuck you in that room when Sammy could walk in on us huh? Such a whore aren't ya.?"

"Yes yes fuck I'm a whore for you cock. I'm your cockslut, fill me up, fuck i want it so bad."  She begged reaching down and rubbing her own clit. "I'm gonna cum." She whimpered, "please I can't hold it." She waited for him to give her permission to cum but he took his sweet time.

"Hold it baby, I'm right behind ya." Dean choked out, his thrusts faltering, a telltale sign he's close. "Cum. Fucking cum on my cock." He growled squeezing her throat slightly as he spilled his seed inside her. The coil in her stomach snapped and she let go, spilling her juices all over his cock. He stilled inside her, both of them panting heavily, coming down from their highs. He pulled out of her slowly, she winched slightly suddenly feeling empty. "You okay?" Dean asked looking over at her.

"Yeah." She replied smiling at him.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked gently and Y/n could feel her heart burst at his softness. As much as she liked him manhandling her, she was loving his softer side.

"Nope, not at all." She replied honestly.

"Okay." He pecked her lips "I'll be back in a second." He went to the bathroom and came out a washcloth. He joined her bed after he helped her clean up. He wrapped his arms around her pulling her closer to his chest.

"Dean." She called out his name softly, "this changes every thing you know that, right?" She whispered lowly.

"Yeah I know but this isn't going to be a one time thing and we'll talk about this tomorrow I promise. You need to rest okay?" Dean replied kissing the top of her head.

"Okay." In the soft after glow, he held her close, peacefully falling asleep in each other's arms.

[thirdsaltyhunter]

Lost With You

Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Summary: getting caught in a storm with your sweet boyfriend

Warning: FLUFF, kissing, swearing probably, gn but use of 'sweetheart'

700ish words

A/N: little gif drabble, not proofread all mistakes are my own

You had set out for a hunt in Minnesota earlier in the morning. Sam was out of commission due to hurting his leg on the last hunt, so that left you and Dean to deal with the latest pop up of werewolves alone. Even though you hated seeing Sam hurt, you'd be lying if you said you minded the alone time you were getting with your boyfriend. You loved the long drives with Dean; it felt freeing being with him, windows rolled down blasting music.

At this point the sun had long since set and you had been driving most of the day, aside from the occasional food or gas stop. You had hoped to make it to the motel and get some shut eye before scoping out the town in the morning. Driving down a stretch of backroads, everything was going as planned until the sky suddenly decided to unleash the most intense rainstorm you had ever seen. The sky darkend even more and the droplets pelted the windshield so hard you couldn't hear the radio anymore.

"Son of a bitch, the bottom really dropped out didn't it," Dean said clicking on the brights, not that it helped.

After a few minutes of struggling to see the road and losing the reception on the GPS, Dean pulled over onto the side of the road. As good of a driver as he was, he knew when to throw in the towel. Right now he couldn't see more that two feet in front of the car, had no idea where he was going, and he was not willing to put you or his car in danger for the sake of making it to the motel.

"Guess we're stuck here for a while" he turned to you.

"Where even are we?", you asked pulling out you phone to see if you had any reception. To no avail.

"Honestly I have no idea" he said with a humorless laugh "But get comfy, I don't think it's clearing up anytime soon". He turned and reached over the seat, digging into one of the duffel bags and pulling out a few lore books.

Turning back, he tossed one to you before resting his back against the door and started flipping through his book.

After about a half and hour of reading, you started to lose focus. You were tired physically and tired of researching. Your eyes drifted up to your boyfriend, you couldn't help but admire how he looked right now. It was pitch black outside, but the glow of the dashboard lights illuminated the side of his face, bringing out all of the contours of his face, the curve of his lips, the soft freckles on the bridge of his nose. You loved him so much and it was moments like this that made you realize that all the more. Moments like this where you were able to make the best out of the worst situations; together.

You're definitely staring and now he's looking at you. "What?", he asks wondering why you're staring at him with a peaceful smile on your lips.

"What?" you echo softly, sounding dazed and tried.

"You're staring" a teasing smirk graces his face but he can tell you're still lost in thought.

For another moment you look into his eyes, losing all sense of reality and you can't help but reach over and cup his cheek. There's a brief look of confusion the crosses his face before he closes his eyes, leaning into your touch.

"You ok?" he asks eyes still closed before opening them to gauge your reaction.

"Sometimes I love you so much it overwhelms me."

You said it so genuinely that Dean was taken aback. He didn't really know how to respond to that and if he thought about the weight of your words it would probably make him cry. Before he could think about it, he was reaching for you.

"C'mer," he said tossing his book into the floorboard and pulling you to lay between his legs with your head over his heart.

You sighed contentedly, nuzzling you face into the warm flannel lining of his jacket.

"I love you too, sweetheart", he said pulling his spare jacket over you and rubbing his hand up and down your back.

He looked down at you and could see that you were teetering on the edge of falling asleep. "Let's just stay here for tonight", the rain was still coming down heavy and he was pretty sure he was too tired to find his way to the motel.

"Ok," your voice was muffled by how your face was hidden in his shirt.

Dean smiled down at you and felt sleep tugging at him too. He settled back against the door, feet propped up on the bench seat with you laying on him, and thought that, in the grand scheme of it all, there was nowhere else he'd rather be than right here. Lost with you.

[fics-and-quotes-andthelike]

Better Late Than Never

Title: Better Late Than Never

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female reader

Word Count: ~2,143

In which the reader’s love language is physical touch, but has never touched Dean…in public.

A/N: I really hope you guys like this one! Thanks so much for reading and for your support. If you have any requests for a fic, feel free to give me a character and a prompt/explanation for what you’d like!

Your love language has always been physical touch. A quick brush of hands here, an innocent kiss to the cheek there. Whether it was your friend or your significant other, touch was just something you used to show that you cared.

So it meant a lot to you when, after you moved in with the Winchesters, Sam had quickly picked up on your love language and allowed you to give him occasional hugs. He’d also gone out of his way to hug you, or even just put a reassuring hand on your shoulder once in a while.

But even though you felt more than comfortable with Sam, you were the first to admit that you’d never so much as given Dean a high five.

In front of others.

In the privacy of an empty bunker or motel room, you and Dean had no problem brushing against each other and exchanging brief touches. Eventually, the brief touches had turned into longer ones, and hands drifted from your shoulder to the small of your back. Then those touches turned into sitting right beside each other, your head resting on his shoulder as he peppered kisses on the top of your head. And after that, kisses on your head turned to kisses on your lips, while hands on your back turned into hands grasping your hips.

But as soon as Sam, Cas, Charlie, or anyone else walked through the door, you would revert back to no touches at all.

It’s not that you didn’t want to. He truly meant the world to you. But every time someone would walk into the room, he would pull away. And you never wanted to make Dean feel uncomfortable, even if it was killing you inside. So, to respect his space, you’d never so much as given Dean a high five in front of other people.

Until today.

A hunt had gone sideways when a djinn had outsmarted the three of you and gotten its hands on Dean while you and Sam had been out getting dinner.

When you got back to the motel room to see that Dean was gone and not answering his phone, you and Sam had come up with a plan. A questionable plan, for sure, but it was all that you could come up with in the limited time that you were allowed.

Now, the two of you sat in Baby, reviewing the plan before you burst into the abandoned warehouse where Dean was being kept.

“Whatever you do, don’t engage with the djinn, got it? I’ll take care of him, you take care of Dean.”

You nodded stiffly, your eyes on the building ahead. “I hear you, I got it. But if you’re in any trouble-”

Sam sighed in exasperation. “Would you just listen to me for a second-”

You looked up at him, fury in your gaze. “I will not let that djinn take you, too.”

Sam’s gaze softened. For all of the sweet touches that you passed around, you were still a hunter, willing to hurt anything that came between you and your family.

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and leaned towards you. “Hey. We’re going to be okay, alright? Us and Dean, we’re getting out of here. And that djinn isn’t gonna know what hit him.”

He kept his hand on your shoulder until you finally nodded in agreement, a half smile taking shape on your lips. You took a deep breath and checked the bullets in your gun and the knife hidden in your jacket as Sam checked the knife dipped in lamb’s blood and the colt in his holster one last time.

As you went through your mental checklist, you couldn’t help the bolt of fear that shot through you when you realized that the djinn could have easily killed Dean hours ago.

You shook your head at the thought. Dean was tough, and if the djinn was probably desperate to make his life force last as long as possible.

You shook out your nerves one last time before you straightened up and looked towards Sam. “Alright,” you muttered. “Let’s get this thing.”

The two of you got out of the car quietly before making your way to the door of the warehouse. Sam put a finger to his lips as he tried the door. You both made a face of surprise when the door gave way easily. Sam led the way as you crept inside, hoping against all odds that the rest of the revue would go this smoothly.

But of course, it wouldn’t really be a Winchester hunt if nothing went wrong.

As soon as you and Sam entered the building, you were ambushed by the waiting djinn. With the advantage of surprise on its side, it quickly overpowered Sam and tossed him to the side before it turned its attention toward you.

You cursed under your breath and raised your gun, knowing full well that it and your knife would do nothing to save you, since the plan had been that you would never have to face the djinn. The djinn smiled at your panic, pacing towards you swiftly.

Suddenly, Sam appeared once again behind the djinn. The djinn whirled around and just barely managed to dodge the knife that Sam swung its way.

Sam risked a glance over to you. “Go! Get Dean!”

You nodded, though he had already turned back to face the djinn.

You looked around wildly, hoping for some kind of sign as to where Dean could be. You startled when you heard faint gasping coming from one of the rooms to your right.

Dean. You sighed in relief as you followed the sound. He had probably saved himself from his fantasy world. You shuddered as you remembered what he’d had to do to escape his dream, and started moving faster.

You entered the room cautiously, gun in hand. From your left, a weak voice croaked out your name.

You whirled around to find Dean weak and bound, but utterly alive. You felt tears well up in your eyes as you ran over to him, shoving your gun back in its holster so that you could grab your knife and cut through his bindings.

Dean looked up at you and smiled weakly. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You ignored him, focused solely on setting him free. Your hands were shaking, making it harder to cut through the ropes. Finally, with an extra push, your knife cut through. You dropped it so that you could catch Dean, who slumped forward as soon as he was able to move again.

You slowly lowered the two of you to the ground, allowing him to catch his breath. “Are you okay?” you asked, a slight tremor in your voice.

Dean looked up at you, his eyes soft as he searched your face. “I’m alright.”

His gaze sharpened suddenly, and he looked around the room. “Where’s Sammy?”

Your head snapped over to the door, through which you could hear sounds of a fight. You cursed lightly under your breath as you stood.

Dean moved to stand as well, but you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back lightly. “Stay here,” you ordered. “I’ll help Sam.”

“I’m not gonna-”

“Stay. Here.”

Dean eyed you stubbornly, but seemed to think better of himself, and nodded once for you to go on. He watched as you picked up your knife and handed it to him before you exited the room, jumping straight into the fight.

He sighed and leaned back against the wall behind him. Normally, he wouldn’t have stayed behind, regardless of what you or Sam said. But as he lay still against the wall, he couldn’t help but remember the dream that he’d been forced into.

You, him, and Sam. There’d been no more monsters. No fighting, no war. Just the three of you, living peacefully.

Jess had been there. She and Sam had gotten married, and Sam was the happiest man around. Or maybe not the happiest. Dean himself had been pretty happy too, with you by his side, through sickness and health. Finally free to hug and love each other freely, regardless of who was around.

He smiled as he looked back on it, but immediately broke out of his memory and jerked to attention as he heard footsteps enter the room.

Panic filled his body. Was it the djinn? Had he gotten to you and Sam? He clutched the knife you had given him in his hand, ready to make good use of it.

He heard Sam call out his name, relief filling his body. Dean opened his eyes and stood slowly, smiling at the two hunters watching him with concerned eyes. “Hey, Sammy.”

You heard Sam laugh breathlessly in relief while your eyes raked over Dean’s body, making sure that he wasn’t hiding an injury.

Dean tilted his head slightly, meeting your eyes. “I’m fine. Honest.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You were aware of Sam saying something next to you, but you couldn’t focus on his words, your attention solely on Dean.

When Dean looked over at you again, a small smile on his lips and concern in his eyes, you couldn’t help yourself. You threw down your weapon and ran over, throwing yourself into his arms.

You’d never been hugged like that before.

His arms wound themselves around your body and tightened, pressing you against him. His hands were open, one resting on your shoulder and one on your side, both tugging you closer than you thought possible. His head rested on top of yours, and he murmured reassurances into your ear as he slowly rocked you side to side.

Through it all, you could faintly hear the sound of Sam leaving the room, giving the two of you some space.

When you finally pulled back, Dean’s hands didn’t leave you, instead resting on your hips as he pressed his forehead to yours.

Your hands fluttered between his shoulders, his neck, and his face as you closed your eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. “I thought you were dead.”

Dean chuckled and gave the barest shake of his head, bringing his hands up to rest them on yours where they sat cradling his face. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You laughed. “Because my life revolves around you?”

“Because then we’d never be able to tell Sam about us.”

You felt your face change, your smile dropping as you stepped away from Dean.

He looked back at you as his arms dropped down to his sides, hurt evident on his face. “What did I do? Are we not…?”

“No!” You exclaimed, shaking your head quickly.

You saw disappointment and shame flit across his features. You shook your head again. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…I just…I wasn’t sure.”

“Sure about what?”

“It’s just…” You steeled yourself. “You always pull away from me. I thought maybe you were embarrassed or something. Or maybe you just wanted me to help you feel better-”

Dean’s whole body jerked with surprise and he stepped towards you, arms outstretched. “No, sweetheart, that’s not it at all. I’m just…” He hesitated, only a step away from you as his arms dropped. “I’m not good with mushy gushy crap. You know that.”

You smiled cautiously. “I know. Nothing wrong with that.”

He nodded, unmoving.

You took a step towards him. “Maybe we could…work on it together?”

A smirk crossed his face as he reached an arm around your back and pulled you closer. “Oh, yeah?”

A laugh crossed your lips. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Dean leaned his head down to softly brush his lips against yours. “I know.”

You felt him stiffen as you both heard footsteps re-enter the room, with Sam loudly complaining, “You guys good to go?”

You moved to pull away, muscle memory taking over, when Dean suddenly cupped your face with one hand and pressed his other hand against your back. His eyes searched yours. “Is this okay?”

Your heart was hammering against your chest, the knowledge that what you said could determine your whole relationship with both Winchesters weighing on your brain.

You heard Sam’s footsteps moving closer and smiled breathlessly. “Yeah,” you managed to say before he connected his lips to yours.

“Guys,” Sam repeated as he stepped into the room. His eyes landed on the two of you, your hands cupping Dean’s face as he pulled you closer still. He chuckled and turned away, but not before shouting, “It’s about time!”

He could hear Dean telling him where to shove it as he walked away, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that the two of you genuinely believed that nobody had noticed your secret relationship these past two years.

Oh well, he thought to himself. Better late than never.

[wandering-winchesters]

Every Embrace

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2,218

Summary: How sharing a bed with Dean Winchester started and where it is now.

Trigger Warnings: SPN level Violence, mostly fluff.

Requested: Yes, by Anonymous. “could you plzzzzzz make a fic where dean and Y/N share rooms or beds when on hunts and they aren’t dating but find comfort in cuddling and being near each other, especially dean. can he be the initiator and the sap for physical touch?”

A/N: Requests are open! Sorry for the lack of posts recently, life has been absolutely crazy! Hope to get back to posting regularly soon! <3 as always, please let me know what you think.

Masterlist

The first time we shared a bed was out of necessity. Dean had been driving for 10 hours straight, all of us were exhausted, sore and just tapped out for the day. The Wisconsin motel had come up suddenly, the last one for another hour. Dean had parked the impala and I had volunteered to be the one to go in and get us a room. Upon checking in, they informed me that they only had one room left, with two beds. I accepted and paid for the room, returning to the car. Intending to let Sam and Dean have the beds and I’d stay in the impala. The second I had suggested this to them it was shot down quickly. 

Dean had immediately objected, stating that he’d stay in the impala and I could have his bed. Internally, I knew that wouldn’t happen. I helped them bring the bags in, letting them get settled. Sam quickly fell asleep on his bed, his clothes a rumpled mess. Exhaustion evident by the deep sleep he had been swallowed up by. Dean had hopped in the shower, mumbling something about needing to wash off the rock salt from hunting ghosts earlier in the day. I changed into comfier clothes, grabbing a pillow off of Deans bed and the blanket that I keep in my duffle at all times and quietly closed the motel door behind me. 

I opened the back door to the impala and tossed my pillow in, spreading the blanket down over the seat before I had climbed in and shut the door behind me. I laid down, wrapped myself tight with the blanket I had brought and settled in as best I could in the cramped back seat. I had almost fallen asleep, when the door by my feet was yanked open. I yelled, fully prepared to kill whatever had decided to disturb my rest. I quickly backed off once I realized it was Dean. 

He asked what I was doing and why I was in the impala when I was supposed to take the bed. I explained that I knew he was sore and I wanted him to have the bed. He refused. After a couple minutes of arguing, he grabbed me by my ankles and pulled me towards the open door. Mumbling that we could share the bed, he wasn’t about to allow me to sleep in the car. I tried to put up a fight, but he silenced me with a look. An exhausted, pleading look. I caved, and followed him inside. He had silently crawled into the bed, his back to the middle. I had carefully settled in next to him, mirroring his position, our backs had been to one another. That was until a nightmare had woken me up, a gasp had left my lungs and I had sat straight up. Dean had immediately noticed and his hand grabbed onto my own. He pulled me down against him, silently embraced me and lulled me back to sleep. 

-

The second time was out of fear, Dean terrified to let me out of his reach for more than a second. We had unknowingly stumbled upon a hoard of demons, only making it out thanks to Sam and Deans quick thinking. I had frozen in place, fear overwhelmed my senses which allowed one of the demons to throw me head first down a set of stairs. I had blacked out, a concussion another injury to add to my long list of hunting ailments. I had awoken to Dean shaking my shoulders, his face swimming before my eyes like the image seen inside of a kaleidoscope. His words had been silent and they had fallen on deaf ears, a temporary loss of hearing plagued my senses, only to return a short time later. He had pulled me into his arms, cradled me close against him and rushed me out to the impala. His grasp on me firm, but gentle. Once we returned safely to the motel, he ignored my every protest and cleaned me up to his satisfaction. 

The cut on my forehead and my splitting headache the only proof of the internal injury that was my concussion. He shushed me as he applied the bandage to my forehead, his eyes scanned my own for any hint of pain that he had not addressed. Once he was satisfied, he helped me down off the counter. A heavy silence had fallen between us, I was exhausted and simply didn’t have the energy for the argument that I was sure was going to follow. It didn’t however, he simply hugged me. His arms tight around my waist, his chin rested against the crown of my head. His breathing was escalated, sharp and had the edge of panic. I hugged him back, allowing his touch to calm me. I only let go when he pulled away, I had believed that was the last of it for the night. 

I bid him goodnight and began to head for the motel door. He stopped me with his words, insisting that it wasn’t a good idea for me to go sleep in a room by myself, the concussion reason enough for me to stay in there with him and Sam. I had hesitated, not wanting an argument, but also afraid of getting to used to the comfort that sharing a bed with him provided. We still hadn’t spoken about the first time it had happened, the way that we had woken up in the others arms. Once we had both woken up, we were quick to roll apart, making excuses for our unconscious behavior. 

The pleading look on Dean’s face was enough to convince me to stay that night. So for the second time, we climbed into the same bed. I faced the outside of the bed, my back to Dean’s. Yet this time, it didn’t last more than thirty seconds. He had immediately pulled me back against him, his arm wrapped snuggly around my waist. His chest pressed to my back, his chin cradled my the curve of my shoulder up to my neck. I couldn’t tell which one of us needed it more in that moment, his touch eased my pain. Little did I know, I eased his pain too. His was mental, mine was physical. We had both fallen asleep embracing the other, lulled into peaceful dreams by the other person. 

-

I can’t tell you when the third time turned to the fourth, the fourth to the fifth ,or the fifth to the sixth. It was a natural progression, as easy as breathing. A fresh breath of air on a foggy morning, easy and clear. Refreshing. The situations varied, but one thing never changed. Dean was always the one to initiate the physical contact. 

We no longer looked for multiple rooms at motels, the bed in the bunker that I had claimed began to go unused. Our need for the other person became so great that we could no longer ignore it. It was platonic, comforting and necessary for survival. The unknown ache that had settled over my should was slowly being eased. The need for another person, physical touch and emotional comfort had finally been fulfilled in a way that I never saw coming. If you had told me years ago when I stumbled upon the Winchester brothers that I would seek comfort in the eldest, I would have laughed in your face and called you crazy. However, now that I am here, shrouded in the safety that was Dean, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. The darkness of the room normally would have been anxiety causing, the nightlight that remained plugged in to the outlet of my room in the bunker is no longer necessary. 

I no longer fear that monsters that might be lurking on the edge of the darkness, I no longer fear the darkness within my own head. All of these have been driven far away from my every thought, all of that due to the man who’s arms I am wrapped in at this very moment. It had changed from the inability to sleep when we shared a bed, due to anxiety over waking him up or the fear of letting him in, to the inability to sleep without him next to me. I craved his touch and that scared me more than I thought physically possible.

“Whatcha reading, Y/N?” Dean asks, his bare feet silent as he enters the room. I glance up from the book I was scanning, my eyes darting over the low hanging sweatpants adorning his hips, his bare chest and shoulders only covered by the fabric of his unbuttoned flannel before locking with his own. I hum, considering my next words carefully. While I had been sitting with this book for the last hour, I had not been reading. I had been thinking, over analyzing every time we had shared a bed or grown closer over the last few months. The emotional connection that I had with the green eyed Winchester standing in front of me, something I never could have predicted.  “I, Uh-couldn’t really tell you,” I laugh, snapping the book shut and setting it on the table next to me. “Was thinking more than reading I guess.” I shrug my shoulders and try to brush off the look that he is giving me. One eyebrow raised, his lip caught between his teeth in the way that I know means he is debating on whether to tease me or let it go. He chooses the latter, remaining silent, but sitting down next to me on the couch. He nods and hands me a beer, that he had already taken the cap off of. Another thing that he had started doing for me, without my asking. It was little things like this that had caused me to question exactly what was going on between us, the silent things that he had started doing for me. 

“What had you so lost in thought?” He asks, his hand pulling my legs across his lap. He rubs his fingers gently into the muscle of my calf, working out a knot that I didn’t know was there until his firm touch brushed against it. I shrug again, taking a sip of my beer in order to delay my response a bit longer. He had been so touchy recently, not that I minded. It was there, a need for physical affection, I had buried it long ago. Yet the second his body brushed my own, it was roaring like a lion. Needy and vocal, rearing to be released from the internal cage I had locked it in so long ago. 

“You.” I mutter, the word leaving my mouth before I can even think to stop it. A flush washes over my face, my cheeks turning red. I can feel deans eyes on me, but I refuse to meet his gaze. I am paying close attention to a slight imperfection in the glass of the beer bottle. 

“What about me?” He asks, his hand squeezing my thigh gently. I hesitate, wondering if I really want to vocalize my next thought. 

“About how you’ve been so affectionate recently, I don’t mind it at all. I love it. But it confuses me, we haven’t talked about it. And I just, it leaves me to wonder, you know?” I say, the last words leaving my mouth an almost silent whisper. 

“Wonder what, sweetheart?” He asks, his tone flirtatious and cocky. It’s only then that I look up and I’m greeted by a grin plastered across his lips. He’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying my hesitation and embarrassment. I smack his arm playfully, my eyebrows tugging together in a look that tells him to knock it off. 

“Okay, okay.” He says, his hands raised in mock surrender. “Wonder, what Y/N?” He asks again, his tone returning to seriousness. 

“What does this mean De?” I sigh, resting my head against my hand and staring back at him. He turns to face me, his hands resting on each of my thighs. I can see that he’s choosing his next words carefully which causes anxiety to bubble up within me. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, everyone needs physical touch. It’s part of being human.” He says and my heart falls. The hope that had been building within me for something more with him quickly crumbles. 

“Or, if you wanted it to mean more than just friendly affection, that would be okay too.” My eyes snap back to his once more, confusion flashing over my features. He smiles softly at me, his eyes searching my own for an answer. My voice is lost to me, so I nod. The only response necessary to communicate how I felt at that moment. 

Even though we hadn’t labeled the things we both felt for the other, it was no longer a concern at that moment. Every embrace was enough to keep the other going. For now, being wrapped up in his arms and listening to his soft snores every night would be all that I need. Maybe one day that could change and we could delve deeper into the feelings that we shared. But for now, sharing a bed would be enough. 

tag list: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester

[1000roughdrafts]

Just Another Day

Summary: Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Warnings: some language (like 2-3 words), light mentions of angst, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Not betad, all mistakes are my own 😊 and bear with me, I’m a little rusty 🥰 happy love day 🥰

Valentine's Day has never really been a favorite of mine, let alone anything I'd consider more than 'just a day'. Hell, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, even birthdays are all just 'another day' for me. It's kind of difficult not to harbor ill feelings about them after constantly being let down by the people in my life, one broken promise after another.

Dean and Sam have kept every promise they've made, though. In fact, they're managing to break down my walls bit by bit from stolen candy on Halloween to a fried chicken meal with beer on Thanksgiving all while living in cheap motels chasing monsters. When I told them this morning that I just wanted to hunt as usual for the day, I couldn't help but to feel a tad disappointed that they agreed. Bit by bit, I'm breaking my own rules about not getting my hopes up on holidays.

This is our first Valentine's Day as a couple, and I've known Dean long enough to know that chocolate and flowers aren't exactly his style. But I can count on him to bring me a piece of pie "just because" or he'll clean my weapons for me after a particularly grueling hunt because he knows all I want to do is shower and get in bed.

After a long day of exorcising demons, we are on the road again. Burnin' For You by Blue Oyster Cult plays low on the radio, but the clattering of rain on the roof has my full attention. Sam loudly rifles through the papers in his lap with one hand, flashlight held in the other, hesitant to ever let himself relax. Dean's eyes flicker between the road and the rear-view mirror to periodically check on me.

"Hey, you seem off today, you okay?" Dean asks, picking up on my vacant eyes and slight frown.

I suck in a breath, inhaling the scent of the Black Ice air freshener and a hint of stale whiskey, "yeah," I say curtly, keeping my eyes on the trees swaying in the wind as we drive past, lit only by the moon above us. The wind howls against the windows of the Impala, sneaking in and covering my skin with goosebumps.

His face scrunches a bit and he nods before the tick of the blinker signals that he's turning off the highway. I feel a twinge of discomfort knowing we're only minutes away from the motel now. As much as I hate the numbness I feel in my butt and thighs, there is something meditative about being a passenger on a long drive.

We pass an abandoned gas station before I can see the dim lights of the Wandering Inn. Dean parks us by the front desk, leaving the Impala to run with a soft purr as he gets us a key to a room. Neither Sam nor I take our time getting the bags together, so by the time Dean is back out and we find a parking spot near the room, we're ready to head in.

The door whines as Dean pushes it open, immediately palming the peeling wall for a light switch. The overhead light flickers a few times before settling on a weak glow, and before I can even shut the door behind us, the smell of burnt dust and old pledge assaults my nose. I glance around the small room. The musky yellow walls seem to make it feel even smaller, somehow.

Dean turns to me with outstretched arms and a smile, asking for my bags. I dutifully and sleepily hand them over, not realizing the weight they bared until the relief of their absence waves over me. Dean nods his head towards the bathroom, "ladies first on a shower," he says softly. His boots click on the tile as he walks over to toss our bags onto the bed, plopping down next to them to remove his boots.

In a few short strides I head over to grab my bag for the bathroom, stopping in front of him to plant a kiss on his forehead. His eyes, droopy and half-closed, look up at me in a smile. He places his hands my back, thumbs rubbing circles on my skin as he pulls me in for a kiss.

"Thanks for first shower, Dean," I say, letting my hands rest on his shoulders.

His eyebrows rise and fall before he says, "yeah, well, by the looks of it, you need it more than we do tonight."

My ear to ear smile is real, but I fake a laugh before pulling away. "Whatever," I say, but I slowly lose my smile on the way to my shower. Dean's ability to pick up on even the most subtle of changes in me are a testament to how great of a hunter he is, and even greater boyfriend. How he can't pick up on how torn I'm feeling about this wretched day I've no idea. What conflicts me further is that I know it's my responsibility to share these feelings with him. Dean may have an attention to detail I haven't seen in a partner in, well, ever, but he's not a mind reader.

The tile of the bathroom is cold under my feet, so I remove my shirt to stand on it while I wait for the water to heat up. I hear the guys shuffling and moving things in the room, keeping their voices hush, but I'm too tired to give a shit. Waving a hand under the water I decide that it's the perfect temperature and remove the rest of my clothes to get in.

I don't even realize how tense I am until the water hits my shoulders, nearly forcing me to relax under it. My body's reflexes take over and I go into autopilot as I think about today and Valentine's Day is already almost over, but we did nothing… at my request. I roll my eyes at myself, brushing my teeth while the conditioner sits in my hair. The scent of fruit and mint fill the room among the steam. When I rinse my hair, I imagine I'm rinsing the day away.

The mirror is completely fogged up by the time I get out. With slightly damp skin, and a towel wrapped around my head, I struggle to get my clothes on, and it frustrates me.

I open the door and allow the steam to pour into our room, and I'm immediately hit with a surprising smell. It's almost as if someone is roasting marshmallows in our motel room. I take a small, careful step and peek just my head out, eyes zeroing in on the lit candles on the table.

My eyes skip over to Dean who sits on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, a single flower in one hand, and a mix-tape in the other. Beneath his feet is a trail of rose petals leading to the door of the bathroom. He keeps his eyes on me, a smile peaking through his lips as he awaits my next move.

Sam's eyes and mine meet before he offers an awkward smile and shuffles a few things around on his bed. He grabs his shower bag, and I take a few steps towards Dean to allow him to enter the bathroom. Dean and I are both silent until the door closes behind Sam.

"What is all this, Dean?" I asks, astonished. Moldy motel room, or 5 star suite, never in my life has anyone laid out rose petals for me. I feel my heart racing like it's ready to burst right out of my chest.

Dean smiles, standing to hand me the flower with a kiss on my cheek. My skin is warm where his lips just were, and he reaches to take my hand, guiding me to sit on our bed.

He notices my eyes glance down at the mix tape before jumping back up to his. "I've been working on this for a few weeks now," he says, shaking the tape in his hand before handing it to me.

My hand shakes when I grab it, and I flip it to see "To my Y/N/N, Love Dean," scribbled on the front. My cheeks grow hot again, but this time with embarrassment that I'd spent the whole day thinking about myself, when here's Dean blowing expectations right out of the water.

"It's, uh, all the songs that remind me of you," he says softly, and I notice the scent of my favorite candle as the flame burns. My head spins.

"I don't know what to say, Dean," I start, and he just smiles, caressing my hand with his calloused fingers, "I mean, thank you. This is the kindest, most loving thing anyone has ever done for me," I say, tears welling in my eyes.

It's overwhelming to think a personal could love someone so much that amidst hunting Heaven, Hell and everything in between he could find the time to make this moment so special.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't cry," he says, arms wrapping around me, pulling me in for a tight hug.

"I'm not crying, Dean," I contest, but I nuzzle my face into his soft, comforting shirt, allowing my arms to wrap around his torso, and under the warmth of his jacket.

I soak in the smell of his sandalwood cologne and tighten my arms around him. Kissing his chest, I mutter another "thank you" before lifting my head to look him in the eyes. He brings his hand to either side of my face, eyes looking back and forth between mine, "you're very welcome," he says, kissing me with a tenderness that takes my breath away, and I realize that it's moments like these that I want to fill my heaven with.

~~~~

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[detydia]

Imagine Dean Winchester x You

You get sick and want snacks.

You found yourself confined to your bed, wrapped in layers of blankets, battling a persistent cold that left you feeling weak and miserable. Dean had to leave for a short period to check on a lead for the current case, leaving you alone.

As you lay there, surrounded by tissues and with a thermometer by your side, you felt a sudden craving for comfort food – the kind that might make you feel a little better despite the illness. You reached for your phone and dialed Dean's number.

After a few rings, Dean's voice came through the phone, "Hey, Y/N, what's up?"

His tone was warm, and you couldn't help but smile despite the congested nose. "Hey, Dean. How's the hunt going?"

Dean sighed. "Slow progress, but I'm on it. What's going on? Everything okay?"

You paused, feeling a bit guilty for interrupting his work. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine. I just... I'm feeling really under the weather, and I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

"Of course, anything for you. What do you need?" Dean replied, concern lacing his words.

"I was thinking maybe some snacks might lift my spirits a bit. Could you grab a few things on your way back?" You requested, your voice slightly hoarse.

"Snacks, huh? You got it. What are you in the mood for?" Dean asked, his tone lightening.

You chuckled, knowing Dean's penchant for junk food. "Surprise me. Maybe some chips, chocolate, and definitely a tub of ice cream. And, oh, grab some chicken soup if you can find any."

Dean laughed. "Got it, Y/N. I'll make a stop on my way back. Anything else?"

You thought for a moment. "Maybe a cheesy action movie? Something to distract me from feeling like a human tissue."

Dean grinned. "You got it, Y/N. I'll be back soon. Hang in there, alright?"

"Thanks, Dean. You're the best," you said, feeling grateful for his understanding and willingness to cater to your whims, even from a distance.

As the day progressed, you drifted in and out of sleep, checking your phone every now and then for any updates from Dean. Finally, the familiar rumble of the Impala pulled into the driveway, and you mustered the energy to get out of bed and greet him at the door.

Dean walked in with a small bag of snacks and a DVD in hand. "Hey, sicko. I come bearing gifts."

You grinned weakly. "You're my hero, Dean."

He handed you the bag, and yoh eagerly peeked inside to find an assortment of goodies, including the requested ice cream. "You nailed it, Dean. Thank you."

Dean plopped down on the edge of the bed, looking at you with a mixture of concern and affection. "How are you feeling, Y/N?"

You sighed, leaning back against the pillows. "Like a mess, but your snacks and a good movie might just be the cure."

Dean chuckled, putting the DVD into the player. "Well, you're in for a treat. I picked an action-packed classic."

You spent the afternoon together, with you nestled under the covers, surrounded by snacks and the glow of the TV. Dean, ever attentive, periodically checked on you, making sure you had everything you needed.

As the movie played, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Dean's presence and the effort he had put into making you feel a little better. The snacks, the movie, and the shared moments made you forget about the stuffy nose and sore throat, at least for a little while.

[imagining-supernatural]

Save Us

Request: Heyyyyoooo! Could you maybe do a dean x reader where she’s always been the rock in the relationship, even tho he’s not that emotional either, but she’s just literally never upset or seems sad, but one day she has a nightmare and then that just kind of starts the ball rolling and she just kinda finally needs dean and he’s there and comforts her?

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2428

-----

“We’ll be home in about an hour,” Dean’s tired, flat voice tumbled through your phone speaker.

“Hunt didn’t go well, I take it?”

“We got the ghost,” he sighed heavily. “But not before it got some more kids.”

Years and years of being just too late definitely took a toll on hunters. Dean grew up in the life, so it was his normal. But even though he constantly said it wasn’t a big deal, or he was used to it, you knew it was a lie. He needed his downtime. He needed comfort. And beyond his need for that reassurance, he deserved it.

“I’m so sorry, babe.” It was so hard to hear him so down when you couldn’t hold him. “How’s Sam doing? Think you can convince him to take the weekend off and not look for another hunt?”

There was a low murmur on the other end of the call while Dean spoke with Sam. A moment later, you were put on speakerphone, the background noise of the car becoming louder.

“How’s your leg?” Sam asked.

“I think it’s almost all the way healed. If you keep your laptop shut for the weekend, I should be able to come on the next hunt.”

Sam chuckled. “Fine, fine. Radio silent weekend.”

With that out of the way, you said your farewells and hung up.

Your leg was perfectly fine. The fracture was healed and you’d been working out on it for the last few days while the boys finished up a two week long hunting spree across the country. But using your leg as an excuse gave Dean the space to not feel like this break was because of him. He hated being the reason you all took a few days off. He hated feeling like the weak link.

So you let him think he was doing this for you, when in all actuality, you would be spending the weekend building him back up, getting his confidence and mental strength back to their normal levels.

*****

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, his voice echoing across the warehouse. After cutting down the Djinn’s victim, you transferred her to Sam’s arms before setting off in search of your boyfriend.

The Djinn had gotten away and all three of you were feeling the disappointment and failure. But after the last few hunts had gone awry, you knew that Dean was teetering on the edge. Hell, you all were, but he took it particularly hard. He always felt responsible for everything that went wrong. And when everything went wrong for a solid four weeks in a row? Well… nothing you could say to him would be heard over the spearing self-hatred that was surely chorusing in his head right now.

“Babe?” It was probably best to announce your presence before touching him. You knew he wouldn’t ever hurt you on purpose, and you could definitely handle yourself, but you’d rather not have to dodge his pent up swing and add that to his guilt that he nearly hit his girlfriend. “Hey, Dean. C’mere.”

He shook his head, hand pressed against the wall, head hung low. “He got away, Y/N. I had him right here.”

“We’ll get him, Dean.” Padding over softly, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. It didn’t matter that his shirt was damp with sweat. It didn’t matter that you had blood spattered on your cheek. All that mattered was that Dean knew that you were there for him. “Maybe not tonight, but we’ll get him.”

You could hear Sam talking softly to the two victims you’d saved, but chose to stay with Dean. Sam knew what he was doing. You and he had a lot in common when it came to dealing with failure. And right now, Sam had a job, so he would be able to make it until he was alone, or until the three of you collapsed in the hotel room.

Dean however…

His breathing was slowing and heartbeat quieting under your ear. When he took one, last deep breath and straightened out, you loosened your hold around him, but didn’t let go. As soon as Dean turned around, you hugged him close again, breathing a sigh of relief when his arms surrounded you and his nose nudged into your hair, breathing deeply.

He was going to be okay.

*****

“I’m sure it’s just a cold,” you said through a stuffy nose, buried in blankets on your bed. “You two go. I’ll be fine for the weekend.”

Dean took a step forward and you held up your hand to ward him off. You didn’t want him getting sick too. “I don’t mind staying here with you, Y/N.”

“And leave Sam alone? Last time you did that, he ended up taking off for a few days to see some author read her book for hours on end. The kid needs you, Dean. Who else will pull him from his geeky ways?”

“I think my sick girlfriend needs me too.”

“All that’d do is get you sick too. I’ll just take it easy for a few days, watch some Netflix, take some baths, eat some soup… I appreciate it, Dean. But I don’t want you to get sick.”

He sighed, giving in. “Alright. Fine. But I’m gonna be checking in so often it’ll feel like I never left.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

As he came closer, you knew it was pointless to try to get him to stay away. He wouldn’t leave without a kiss, even if it was just on the forehead. And, to be honest, you wouldn’t want him too. Looking up into his shining eyes, you gave him a weak smile. “Love you, Dean.”

“Love you too, sweetheart. Take care.”

You watched as he closed the door behind him before you sank back down into the pillows. It wasn’t even half an hour later that your chills turned to shakes and you barely made it to the toilet before upheaving the light breakfast you’d been nibbling on. With your head in the toilet bowl, you didn’t hear the squeal of the garage door opening or the heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. It was the fingers on your head, pulling your hair back from your face that would have made you jump if you’d had the energy.

“Dean?”

“I’m here, babe.”

“What about—”

“Sam called Charlie. She’ll meet him down in Georgia. I couldn’t leave my best girl alone while she was sick, so I just ran into town for a quick supply run.” Once he had all of your hair in a messy bun in his hand, he settled onto the floor next to you. “And I don’t want to hear anything about me getting sick.”

“’m glad you’re here.” Getting through a cold alone wasn’t a big deal. But when it suddenly became the flu?

The porcelain of the toilet was cold against your cheek; a stark contrast to the heat in your cheek. For nearly fifteen minutes, you sat there on the floor with Dean’s fingers tangled in your hair. When you puked all you had left to puke, you sat back against the wall with a sheen of sweat across your forehead. “Why can I keep fighting after literally getting shot in the leg, but a stupid virus knocks me out?”

Dean chuckled beside you, reaching up to fill a cup with water. “As badass as you are, sweetheart, you’re still human. Here, swish and spit.”

Just the slight movement it took to sit up and spit into the toilet upset your fragile equilibrium and triggered more dry heaving.

It was going to be a long few days.

*****

“Dean! Over there!” you shouted, pointing at the ghost that appeared behind Sam, who immediately dropped so Dean could shoot the phantom with rock salt.

Once the ghost disappeared momentarily, Sam resumed digging the grave. The pile of dirt seemed to grow and grow and grow, but the hole didn’t get any deeper. “Sam, hurry up!!”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” he gritted out, throwing another shovel of dirt on the pile that was now nearly as tall as him.

Three small kids ran out from behind the dirt pile just as your breaths started coming out in cloudy puffs. It seemed like your body was paralyzed. You tried to run to the kids, but couldn’t move as the ghost advanced on them instead. Desperate, you called out to Dean, trying to get him to shoot rock salt at the ghost for a brief reprieve.

But he didn’t respond.

“Dean!” You tried calling out again, again receiving no response.

The tell-tale sound of a shovel hitting a casket pulled you from your paralysis and you found that you could move again. Hinges creaked and you looked down in the hole that seemed to be a mile deep as Sam opened the casket. “Toss me the fuel and salt, Y/N!”

The fuel… the fuel… where the hell is the fuel? You looked all around you for the duffle bag that you swore was right next to you just moments ago only to see a patch of grass. The green grass shriveled into dusty brown specks before your eyes.

“Y/N!” Sam’s shout came again, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the grass particles that were carried away by the wind.

Suddenly, the three kids were right in front of you. Blood dripped down their faces and they spoke in concert: “You didn’t save us. Why didn’t you save us, Y/N?”

“No… no!” Backing away from the awful scene, you tripped and fell backwards, arms reeling as the grave Sam had just dug stretched into a seemingly never-ending fun house mirror effect. Children’s faces watched you from behind the mirrors, angry frowns morphing into chilling grins, damning you for your failures. Their deaths were on you. Further and further you fell, some unknown force pulling you towards purgatory.

Then you were standing in an old motel room. You gasped for air, doubling over. Equilibrium should have returned, but it was as if you were on a merry-go-round and the world wouldn’t stop tilting.

“Y/N.” Dean’s voice normally grounded you. But now? His deep rasp reached into your body and gripped your throat. Your air supply was cut off so suddenly that you couldn’t even gasp for breath. Those green eyes you loved so much glared daggers at you. “They died because of you. It’s all your fault.”

*****

“Stop it!” You shouted, waking yourself.

Dean’s head shot up from where he was bent over a laptop on the desk. “Whoa, Y/N.” As your chest heaved, struggling for breath, Dean hurried over. He immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Baby, you’re okay. It was just a dream.”

You shook your head. “No, no it’s–”  You cut yourself off and forced a deep breath in. Sure, the events were a dream, but the words? They were true. They were true, and they caught up to you. You’d spent so long shoving aside reality and focusing on the brothers and what they needed. What Dean needed.

Dean.

He didn’t need to deal with this. As soon as you could, you would fortify yourself again and push it all away. You’d be back to good again.

Another deep breath and you shook your head again, this time to clear your mind. “Just a dream,” you whispered, repeating his words. “Just a dream.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Just a dream.”

You focused on Dean’s hand moving over your arm, drawing comfort from the familiar action. When you felt calm enough, you looked up at Dean, intending to thank him. But he took one look at your eyes and his brow furrowed.

“Sweetheart?”

“It was just a dream, Dean. I’m fine. I just… It’s the life, right?”

Calloused fingers trailed down your cheek and Dean brought his forehead to hers. “Sure, sweetheart. But that doesn’t mean nightmares don’t get to us.”

“They don’t get to you,” you whispered.

He sighed, breath disturbing the air between them. “Baby, they do. But I’ve got you. I get to wake up next to you and I remember that whatever the hell I’ve gone through and whatever I’ve fucked up in my life, somehow I’ve managed to do something right enough that you love me.”

“I do love you,” you murmured.

“Whatever your nightmare was about, whatever was said… Baby that’s not real. I love you. And that’s fucking real.”

For a long moment you sat in silence, just taking in the warmth and affection from Dean. Then you cracked a timid smile, taking the first step out of the tailspin that the dream had sent you into. “Since when do you say such pretty words, Dean Winchester?”

“Since the day I fell in love with you. And every damn day that I get to stand by your side and hold your hand and feel how much you love me.” His thumb traced over your cheek bone, drawing your eyes to his. “I don’t need to know the details about your dream. But if I can manage to deserve someone as amazing as you in my life after the shit I’ve done, then you sure as hell deserve sainthood just for putting up with me, not to mention for all of the people you’ve saved.”

“I didn’t save them all, Dean.” Your eyes fell from his as the kids’ faces from your dream flickered across the sheets in front of you.

“Baby, we couldn’t save them all. We tried every damn thing we could. Sometimes, it just isn’t possible.” Dean brushed his lips across your cheek. “You taught me that. Guess it was past time that you got that reminder, huh?”

You gave in and leaned against him, physically and mentally. “Pretty words from a pretty face. How did I get so lucky to have such a great boyfriend?”

“You think I’m pretty?” He smiled. “Cause I think those pretty words came from your pretty face first, sweetheart.”

His nose nudged yours moments before a soft kiss was brushed across your lips like a paintbrush feathering a sunset onto a canvas. The rumble of thunder in Dean’s voice settled you like a comforting weighted blanket. “‘sides, sweetheart… you saved me the moment I met you. If you can save a bastard like me, anything that tells you that you failed can shove it.”

Eyes shining, you fell into his eyes. “We saved each other, Dean.”

“Damn right, we did.”

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

Just Breathe- Series

Good evening everyone! here is the second chapter in the Just Breathe Series. This series was inspired/prompted by the ask that was submitted by @deans-spinster-witch to read the first chapter click here for the original post. @deans-spinster-witch was gracious enough to lend her skills in ruffing out a few of the mishaps in chapter one, and I will post that updated version at some point and link it, and did the same for this second chapter. 

Here is the original ask for a refresher.

Ask from @deans-spinster-witch:

Tell me about Dean falling in love with a girl who has long covid - maybe they met when he saved her from a monster and they became friends, she occasionally helps him with research or patches him up if he gets hurt.  He doesn’t hear from her for a while, and when he goes to check on her, he finds out she’s in the hospital with Covid - a monster he can’t save her from.  He realizes he loves her, but may lose her.  After she gets out he keeps coming to check on her because he knows she tires easily/has trouble breathing at times.

This second chapter is going to start with a bit of time jump, but don’t worry we got flashback a plenty to fill in the gaps. Multi POV between the main character, Y/N, and Dean Winchester, mentions of Sam Winchester. This is angst, sweet/fluffy, swearing, implied sexy times. Oh and word count is at 7,250-ish, sorry but not sorry. 

Sadly the Winchesters are not mine, but the story is so please don’t steal and post as your own. But likes, reblog, and comments are always welcome. As always any mistakes like grammar, spelling, function is also all mine, so be kind when pointing it out, I do my best. 

I would like to know if you like this chapter would you want to see a third chapter? or maybe a prequel to answer any questions you might have regarding Y/N and Dean? Let me know. 

Thank you again for reading, and you would like to send me a prompted or story idea, send it my way. 

Happy Reading

Time Jump to 4 months ahead. 

Y/N POV

Shit, Shit, Shit! Where the hell are my keys! You yell out in frustration as you move frantically around your house, looking for the one thing that you need to get to your appointment on time. Tossing the pillows from the couch, goddamn it! You were never like this, ever since COVID, your short term memory has been foggy to put it nicely. Resorting to keeping both a paper list and digital one on your phone, is your new normal. Walking into a room to do something, and instantly forgetting what you came for. Case in point, not remembering where you put your goddamn keys! 

You hate running late, you pride yourself on always being early to things, and this appointment was an important one. Walking into the kitchen, you start to look in the not so obvious places. Opening up the fridge, nope not in there. Pull open the freezer next, yep there they are, right next to the pint of mint chip ice cream that you just had to have yesterday at like 11 pm. Only to then be disappointed that you now can’t stand the taste of your once favorite ice cream, fuck you COVID! 

Ugh, seriously, you are going to be the death of me, you think. Grabbing your keys, you push the freezer door closed, and head off to the hospital for your fourth month CT scan. Locking the door behind you, the crisp air of fall hits you. God how you don’t want winter to come any sooner then it has too. Winters in Michigan can be brutal, especially on the coast line. Pulling your light jacket close to you, you quicken your pace and get into your jeep to start up the car quickly, and pull out of the driveway. Not noticing the very familiar black impala parked about three houses down. 

****

You make it with time to spare, as you wait in the waiting room after checking in, you try your best to calm yourself. Fiddling with your phone, you find that scrolling through Instagram is getting you nowhere and your emails have been radio silent for months now. Exhausted, you put your phone away, you look around the room. For mid morning it's not too busy, the daytime talkshow mixes in with the white noise of the hospital. It's so beige, beige carpet, walls, even the uncomfortable furniture is beige. It makes sense, given it's a hospital; money should be spent on actual patient care, not on the latest interior furnishings., But still, at least get some interesting artwork. Looking to the piece across from you: an abstract painting of paint strokes in grays, blues, and you guessed  it, beige.

“Ms. Moore?” The nurse's voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you look up to see her standing at the entryway in blue scrubs, dark brown hair pulled back, with a kind smile. 

“Yep” you reply to her, but you're sure she would have guessed that was you, as your head snapped at attention when your name was called. “Hi”, giving her a smile as you walk towards her.

“Hi,” she replies, “can you tell me your last name and date of birth?” She starts walking down the hallway, looking at your chart, the path was second nature for her. You rattle off your last name and birthday for her, then she stops just off from an open doorway, “right in here.” Letting you walk in first.

She takes a seat at a desk, swiping her badge to start keying in some information. “So, here for your four month CT scan.” she states, but it also feels like a question.

“Umm, yeah, it's my second one.” You reply, still getting used to coming to the doctor more than twice a year. You only ever went if you were feeling really sick. 

“Looks like the first one was clean, but we like to do a few in close succession when someone has had a severe case of covid.” she explains, her eyes are kind, and reassuring, “I am sure this one will be just as good, and then hopefully the doctor will schedule them farther apart.”

She must see the worry on your face. Not sure how to respond, you just nod your head. She takes your vitals, asks if anything else has changed since your last visit, and if there were any other concerns you wanted to discuss today. “No, I don’t think so.” 

Typing a few more things in the computer, and then swapping her badge again to lock the computer. “I am surprised your brother is not here with you today.” 

“What?” You're taken aback by this, brother, does she mean Dean? How would she know about him? Was it in your chart? You don’t remember adding him as your emergency contact.

She can tell you are put off by this. “Sorry, I should have re-introduced myself. I was your nurse when you were in here with covid.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I should have…”

“No, it's fine. Honestly, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me.”

Thinking back to that time, she does seem familiar now, “well it's nice to see you again…” struggling to remember her name quickly, but not inconspicuously looking at her badge, “Bridget.” This gets a laugh out of her, and you do the same. “I was happy to see your name on the schedule today, and I thought you were the one with the very cute, and very attentive brother. That's why I am surprised he is not here.”

Ah yes, Dean, not being here. That is a long, long story that you're sure she does not want, nor has the time to hear right now. You give her a forceful smile, “Yeah, Dean, he has something today, so just me.”

Her smart watch goes off, and she looks at the time, “well we should get you down to CT. After your scan, we will come back here and the doctor will be with you to go over the results.” She gets up, and you follow. 

****

The wait feels like forever, and in the small exam room with nothing to look at but an exam table -and beige walls - you were lost in your head. Worrying about what if they found something, what if you developed lesions, or anything that could compromise your health. God, how you wish Dean was here, or even Sam. Someone to hold your hand and distract you from the impending doom and dark thoughts that were creeping in. Dean would distract you with lame jokes, or stories about how Sammy was terrified of doctors. He would get you to smile anyway he could, probably go so far and raid the supplies of tongue depressors and cotton balls, saying something like “they don’t need all of them, do they?”

“Ms. Moore, how are we today?” The doctor's voice breaks up your fleeting thoughts of Dean, as if he was right there, but as soon as the man in the white coat opens the door and steps through, Dean disappears. 

“Umm, good, at least I hope so.” You reply, wanting to keep the pleasantries short, let get to the point so you can get out of here. 

He takes a look over the file, and then pulls up the scans on the computer. He seems to be taking forever, did he not look at them beforehand! Come on man just tell me already! “Everything looks good, I am not seeing any growth of lesions or scar tissue from the tube.”

Relife floods your body, letting out a sight, “oh that great news, so I am done with coming in?” you hope so, wanting to never see this place again, at least for a while. 

He turns to face you, his dark brown eyes are kind, but you can tell right away he is not going to give you the answer you want. “Not yet, but we can push them to every six months.”

Okay, twice a year, I guess that is a compromise you can take, “okay, so I will see you in the spring.” Starting to get up to leave, but he stops you.

“In two months, we can start doing six month visits. I want to see you again one more time in two months. If that scan is clean then we push them to six month visits.” He explains. 

You sit back down in defeat, you're going to be back here in two months, really! You know you can’t take your frustration out on him, he is just looking out for your health and doesn’t want to miss anything. “Okay.” Slightly defeated, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the couch, and sleep for the next two months away. 

Giving your hands a reassuring pat, “two months will fly by I promise. Is there anything else you want to discuss today? Still having some memory issues?”

You know that you should be honest with him, that you think you have gotten worse since Dean left, but honestly are you sure? He did so much for you in that short time, maybe, you were like this before, and he just didn’t point it out. Plus you just wanted to go home, what really could he do anyways? “Nothing new on that. I think I just need to get back to my normal routine and I will be fine.” 

Getting up from his chair, “Sounds good. I will send Bridget back in, she will get you set up for your next appointment. We will see you in two months. Have a good day.” shutting the door behind him. You're back alone in that quiet room.

Alone, you're alone, once again. You can feel the panic start to creep in. Alone, and even though the scan was good, he still wants you to come back. Alone, no one to hold your hand, no one to make stupid jokes. You did this to yourself, you know that, he would have stayed, you pushed him…

“Alright, Doctor says two months humm.” Bridget's voice breaks through. It's light and airy. Trying to make the situation as pleasant as possible. As soon as she sits down, she can tell you're not alright, “Hey, what's wrong?” She asks, setting down the chart, and focusing on you.

Feeling a tear run down your cheek, fuck why are you crying.  “Umm…it's nothing….yeah two months…” You take a ragged breath, pushing all your emotions down, down, down, to the deepest part of your soul where they should always live. You can cry when you get home. Suck it up for two more minutes!

“Hey, talk to me, what’s going on.” She is not letting you wash this away, she grabs the tissue box, and holds it out for you to pull a couple out of the box. “Your scan was clean, the doctor is just being cautious that's all.” 

“I know it's just…I really wish he was here….”

“Dean,” she replies, filling in the blanks. You nod at this, and wipe your eyes and face. “I am sure if you talk to him, he will come to the next appointment.”

Oh if she only knew, but you couldn’t lay this all out on a complete stranger. Again she just wants to do her job, and move on to the next patient, you're taking up too much of her time. “I am sure you're right.” Taking a few ragged breaths. 

She gives you a reassuring smile, and turns to the computer to book your appointment, reminding you that you can always change it to accommodate if Dean can’t make it this time. “I could tell he really cares for you. Even in the short time I saw him, he wouldn’t leave your side for anything. Practically had to kick him out every night when visiting hours were over.” Trying to make the situation light, and hopefully get a smile back on your face. 

Giving her a short laugh, “yeah that sounds like Dean.” You can see it, him waiting until the last possible second. A security guard to escort him out.

Both of you get up, and she walks you to the door, and down the hall towards the exit. Seeing you coming back around, she decides to let you in on a little secret. Stopping you before opening up the door to the waiting room she leans in slightly. “Just between you and me, I knew he wasn’t your brother.”

“What….I mean…no he is….” You stammer out, hoping that she wasn’t going to bust you for…something, you're not sure? But still not wanting to get into trouble.

“Don’t worry dear, it's fine.” She quickly replies, trying to calm your fears. 

You let out a sigh of relief, “How did you know?”

“Two things. One he just pulled on my heartstrings so much that I figured what would be the harm in him sticking around, even if he wasn’t related. Plus, if I was ever lucky enough to have a guy look at me the way he did to you, I would want him to be by my side every second.”

Her smile is contagious, and although you're still doubting that what you feel for Dean would ever be reciprocated, now is not the time to hash it out with her. “What was the second?”

“I may have heard him one night on the phone with someone, saying he couldn’t lose you, that he needed to tell you that he was in love with you.'' She says matter of factly, pushing the door open and waiting for you to walk through. 

*******

Dean POV

He watches as she pulls into the driveway and shuts off the car. He had followed her from a safe distance from the hospital to the store, and then back to her house. She didn’t notice once, even though he had taught her in the past how to spot a tail. Did she get bad news? Maybe it's the COVID that is affecting her hunter instincts? Fuck, if thats the case, what else could she be missing? Is it stupid and desperate of him to be following her, and watching from a distance? Maybe, but also not, if she is not noticing simple things like him following her. What if  Lucifer, or one of his henchmen, came after her? Anxiety just thinking of irrational attacks on you causes his chest to tighten as he pulls back into the parking spot a few houses down.

He should be a man and go up to you, talk to you, and see you face to face. He missed you, your smile, your laugh - fuck, everything about you. He knows he screwed up. As soon as he did what he did, he wished he could have taken it back, but the damage was done. He kept saying it was for the best, that you would forgive him, and move on. But you can’t forgive him unless he stops being a little stalker and owns up to what he did.

Flashback to the night of the big blowup. Dean POV

Standing there, staring down the closed door, you wish right now you had superpowers to see through the door and see if she’s alright. Hell, you don’t need to be a superhero to know she’s not. You're just wondering what brought this on. “Y/N, come on, talk to me” you plead, softly knocking on the door. “I am sorry…I don’t mean to…” your rambling stops when you hear soft sobs from the otherside of the door. 

“Just go away Dean!” She yells between sobs. “I can’t breathe with you here… I can’t…”

You grab the door knob, fear and pressure weighing down on you to get to her, to hold her.  Most importantly, to make her understand that your overbearing protectiveness is coming from a place of needing to be in control, that you care for her, and need to protect her “Y/N, please just open the door, let's talk? I promise I will ease up, I can do better.”

You can hear her give a small laugh at that, you're about to question her on this when your phone goes off. Screw it, let it go to voicemail, she is more important than anything else. “I am not giving up on you, on us. You have to come out eventually.” 

Your phone stops ringing for a second and then starts back up again. What the Hell? “You should answer that, Dean.” She states without hesitation, but  with an undertone of sadness. 

Letting out a sigh, you turn around. “Fine if you want to talk via phone, fine.” Walking away from her door into the living room, you pick up your phone from the coffee table. To your surprise it's not her name across the screen, but Sam’s. “What?” you bark out in frustration, not really wanting to talk with him right now. 

“Dean, back off.” Sam says matter of factly. No pleasantries, just straight to the point. 

“She called you? Why?” Confused as to why she is including Sam on this.

“She just needs some space, Dean, I think it's time you come back. Jody called and…” Sam calmly says, trying his best to diffuse the situation from the other side of the country. 

“No, Sam, I am not leaving her! I can’t lose her again, I won’t… I love her, man…”

Your back is to the hallway, so you don’t notice Y/N standing there, listening, hearing  what you should be confessing to her and not your brother. You don’t see her wondering why can’t you just say what you feel? Why can’t you just let down your guard with her and tell her?

*****

The slamming of a trunk pulls Dean back to the present, and he looks up to see you carrying an arm load of groceries. Of course you would do it in one trip. He shakes his head, remembering that you never like to take more than one trip from the car to the house. Your logic always being, as you told him, I am a single girl, I can do it in one go. He watched as you held the screen door open with your butt, as you switched all the bags to one arm so you could open the door with the other. Looking away once you're inside, Dean notices it’s about 20 minutes since you pulled in the driveway. Had you been sitting there this whole time? You have only gone to the hospital and store, but still your energy must not be back to what it used to be. 

Maybe he should check, make sure you're doing okay. Look in the window really quick. Getting out of the car and walking the short distance, he looks over to your car to see that you still had some toilet paper and paper towels in the back seat. Knowing that you would be back, he decides to help you out. Opening up the door as quietly as possible he grabs the items, and takes them up to the door. Putting them in between the screen door and main door, he turns around to leave.

His eyes look in the kitchen window, to see you putting away your items. Your back is to him, so you don’t notice. You seem lost in your own world, on auto pilot putting things away. Dean takes a moment to appreciate that he can see you up close. His eyes scan the room, noticing the post-it notes all over. He never remembers you having so many of them before. He can’t read what they say, but they are everywhere; on the cabinets, counter tops, table, Was your memory getting worse? 

Panic, and anger - at himself more than anything -  sets in.

*******

Y/N POV

“I love her Sam, I am in love with her…I can’t…no I won’t lose her, I need to tell her how I feel…”

“You don’t love me, Winchester” your voice stops Dean from rambling on the lies that you know, in the end, he doesn’t mean.

Dean turns to see you standing there, your eyes red from crying. But you're not crying now; no, now you  look  pissed, like you want to kick some ass - and Dean’s is the closest one. “Got to go Sam.” Dean quickly says, ending the call. “What do you mean I don’t love you. Of course I do, I….”

You hold up a hand, and stop Dean from saying anything more. “No, you don’t. People like me, we don’t have sexy knights to save us. To fall in love with us, to whisk us away, and want to play house with.” Determine to get this all out, to get your point across and make him accept reality. 

“We are your best friend, the girl you call on Friday nights when your date falls through, or you strike out with the bartender. We are your ‘wing woman’, we pick you up, dust you off, and send you back out into the world. We build your confidence up, while we sit on the sidelines alone.”

“Y/N that's not true…” Dean starts to protest.

“Let me finish, I have to get this out.” taking a breath, you can see he’s hurt, that he wants to argue, to explain his side. “Yes, you care for me, but you don’t love me, and you're not In love with me. You're in love with this idea of a life outside of hunting, you love the idea of playing house.” Closing the gap between you, even though you know better than to get  this close to him. You're playing with fire, but you're desperate to feel him. 

“You're right, I am in love with the idea of an apple pie life. But I want that life with you, no one else.” Dean interjects before you can shut him down, shut down what is going on between you two before it can even start. 

Taking a chance, he grabs your hand and brings it up to his chest and places it over his heart. “Can’t you feel my heart? It’s racing for you. It always has, it always will.”

 Feeling the softness of the white t-shirt between your fingers, you take a breath and inhale the smell of him. “Sooner or later we both know this won’t be enough, that I won’t be enough.” You talk to his chest, not wanting or able to look him in the eye, your voice low and shaky. “You're going to leave me, sideline me, and only blow through town when you need something.”

“That's not true! You have always wanted your own life. I always wanted to protect you as much as I could. The things that Sam and I deal with, the people and monsters we hunt, if anything ever happens…you are a vulnerability that they will exploit. I know it.” 

“Maybe. Even more reason why you have to go…and never come back…” Glancing up to see the gut punch you just delivered written on his face. You try to take a step back.

Dean won’t let you go, bringing a hand around your waist, holding you. “What?! No! I won’t cut you out of my life. I now know I was stupid for ever doing that. For letting you live alone, or at the very least, not in the same state as the bunker.” He practically commands, with no hesitation. How could you think he would ever agree to this?   

“Y/N, I need you in my life. You can’t deny that there is something between us.” His words are sweet, his voice is low as he leans into you. His breath fans over your face, as his hands caress your cheek. “Please, I need you.” 

His lips are so close to yours, that if you lean ever so slightly, you would finally know how soft his lips are. Would they fulfill your fantasies? God, maybe you should live in this fantasy for as long as you can, screw being logical. Let it be a future Y/N problem, present Y/N wants to know what it's like to be wanted by Dean Winchester. “I…Dean…”

*******

 Y/N and Dean POV 

“Dean, what are you doing here?” Your voice pulls him from the memory of that night, and he looks to see you standing at the door, one hand holding open the screen door. 

Oh fuck, well, this wasn’t the plan at all. Giving her a smile, “Hey Y/N, I was in the neighborhood…thought I would…”

“So you're stalking me now?”

“Hehe, no, I said I was in the neighborhood, wanted to see how you are…you look good.” He says, letting his eyes look at you. You did look good, but tired, your eyes didn’t shine like they normally did before; the spark, the hint of twinkle is gone.

“Liar, I look like shit, but thanks.” You quip, knowing that you don’t look good at all. Wearing a ratty hoodie and jeans, you opted for comfort over trying to impress anyone. “Well, thanks for stopping by.” You say, giving him a fake smile and turning to walk back in the house. 

“Umm…Y/N, I could, I mean Sam could use your help with something, he knew I was going to be passing through and wanted me to stop by and ask for some help.” Quickly thinking on his feet, he creates an excuse. He didn’t want to leave yet, this is the most he has talked to you since that night. He would be damned if he was going to let you leave so soon. 

You turn back to look at Dean, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. Sam had your number, and you were still speaking to the younger Winchester - he didn’t break your heart and live up to everything you knew would happen. “Why didn’t he call me?” You question, wanting to make Dean work for it. He wasn’t getting in that easy!

He takes a few steps towards you, “well, like I said, he knew I was in the area.” One step lower from you, his green eyes lock with yours, silently pleading with you to let him in. “He wanted me to pick up a lore book on Pixies, and said you had a copy that we don't have in the library.”

“Fine, come in. I will go grab it.” You reply, turning away from him, letting him catch the door before it slams in his face. 

Dean shucks off his jacket and boots, and looks around while you go back to find the book. He can now see the post-its in detail, reminding you where your keys, jacket, bag should be put. Making his way to the kitchen, cabinets are labeled with what should be in them: dry food, dishes, silverware. Daily schedule on the fridge. “Having fun snooping?” Your sarcastic tone has him turning on his heels to see you standing in the doorway with a book in hand. 

“Umm…sorry…” he says sheepishly, hating  that he got caught. He can see you're not amused, and he is really going to have to lay on the charm to win you back. 

“Yeah, well at least I am keeping the post-it company in business. Here is the book.” You say handing it to him.

Dean takes it, and looks at it, giving it a nod, “Thanks, yep this is it.” 

“Okay, well, you better get going, since Sam is in ‘desperate’ need of it and all.” Your voice is flat, not in the mood to deal with him. “You know where the door is.” You add, just turning that knife even deeper. 

“Look, Y/N can we talk?” Dean can tell you're not your usual self, and he really wants to get you back.

“Oh now you want to talk? You sure as hell didn’t want to talk for four months. Didn’t want to talk when you woke up the next morning regretting that kiss, regretting what we said to each other, the promises you made.” You snap at him, the frustration building in you. Why does it always have to be on his time? God you were just getting over him, right?

“I know. I was a jerk, it was a dick move, and I am sorry.”

“You're sorry, really?That's all you have to say?” Turning away from him, just looking at him and his sad puppy dog face, you want to smack him. Fuck, you want to hit yourself for being an idiot that night. 

******

“Dean…please…I…” You have to keep strong, tell him to go, you know this won’t end well.

“Please Y/N, You're the only good thing I have in this world, I can’t lose you.” Not waiting for a reply, his lips find yours. 

They're soft, perfect, molded to fit yours, and gentle, Dean doesn’t force his way. Pulling away, when your lungs start to burn,you lock eyes with him. Lust blown, his lips slightly pink. No words are exchanged, you silently say everything you need to him at that moment, and he seems to understand. Bringing his hands to cup your face, he goes back in to kiss you more, letting his tongue swipe across your lips. You allow his tongue to dance with yours. 

Fumbling your way to the couch, Dean falls back first, and you do your best not to land on top of him completely, giggling at the state you're both in. Dean looks up at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, and looking up at you lovingly, “God, I love that laugh of yours.” He says, pulling you down on him. Letting you feel what you're doing to him. 

“Dean, I have to be crushing you.” You protest, trying your best but failing at getting out of the vice grip Dean has on your hips. 

“Nope, You're staying right here.” He says, as he starts to pepper kisses down your neck. 

******

“Dean, I begged you to leave! I knew you never wanted me! And yet like an idiot, I fell for your charm and under your spell.” You grit out, turning on your heels and walking away from him. Fuck, you can’t keep doing this! 

“I did ... .I do ...Y/N look at me” Dean pleads, setting the book down he follows you to the living room, grabbing your hand. “Please, let me explain.”

Turning around, you pull your hand back. His touch, like fire, like touching a hot pan. “You know, I thought for a split second you were telling me the truth. That you wanted me like I have always wanted you.” Pain radiates through you, your voice seems to be stuck behind a lump forming in your throat. God, you want to smack him, but at the same time, kiss him.

Dean’s speechless, trying to work out how best to tell you what he was thinking in that split second when he woke up in your arms that day. For one second he felt total bliss, that everything was falling into place; then reality of his life came back into focus.

“I know, it wasn’t my finest hour.”

You laugh at this, you think!? “What is there to explain? We kissed, had a pretty good makeout, groped each other over and under our clothes, but then we both agreed to take it slow. Right?” You ask for confirmation, even though you remember it all too well.

“Yes, but, Y/N, if you just let me…” Dean stumbles to explain.

“But then, I wake up the next morning alone on the couch with a note that says, ‘Hey, Y/N, Sorry, Sammy needs me, will check in soon.’”

The space between you two is nonexistent. You're trying to find anything in those green eyes of his that will refute anything you just said. Anything to explain that you're overreacting, but there is nothing. He has no rebuttal, because it's all true. He walked out on you, like his father did to him and Sam all the time. The worst part was, Dean had Sam to lean on; you were left with no one.

“Like I said, not my finest hour…” he mumbles out.

“Not your goddamn finest hour?ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!” you yell, slamming your fists into his chest and pushing him away.  It does nothing to move him, and takes all your energy out of you. You stumble a bit, then lean back and sit on the arm of the couch.

“Hey, Y/N, please, calm down.'' His voice is heavy with concern, and he tries to help you up so you can sit on the couch.

“Don’t…touch…me…” You cough out. Needing water, you look to find your water bottle is nowhere. “Fuck….I…” You keep coughing, and try to get up.

“Water?” Dean questions. You nod, and try to get back up. “No, sit, I will go get it.” He tells you and quickly goes to the kitchen, and is back with a glass of water in seconds.

You down about half, the cool water helps calm you and your coughing fits. “Thanks” you mumble, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he ‘saved you again.’ You don’t look at him as you sit down the glass and avoid him at all costs.

Dean takes this as his opportunity to tell you his side. Sitting on the coffee table so he has direct eye contact with you, he reaches for your hand. “Please, Y/N, I am truly sorry. I know I was a jerk for leaving you like that, and for never calling or coming back.”

You stare him down, not  giving him an out on this one. “Go on. You will hear no objection from me on this one.” You reply.

Dean lets out a small sigh that clearly said fuck, alright here we go. “I was fucking scared, okay? I woke up, saw you in my arms, and for a split second I felt like I was home. My first thought was, this is perfection. No monster, no running the roads, crappy dinner food, and sketchy motels.” 

He leans towards you, putting a hand on your knee, and lightly runs his hands up and gives you a knowing smile. “The perfect, sexy, beautiful, girl in my arms, that I can’t wait to wake up and…”

You stop his hand from getting too close to what both you and him want to touch. “Not so fast  Winchester.” Knowing if he keeps going, you are definitely going to end up in a very compromising position. “No, I bet your first thought was, oh fuck what the hell did I do, and how the hell do I get out of it.”

“No, will you let me talk?. God, I see COVID can take your memory, but not your self-hatred or inability to butt in.” 

You hold your hands up in a fake defense, “Please go on.” You quip back, leaning back into the couch. 

Dean shakes his head, at least you’re sassing back, that is a good sign. “I got up, was going to start coffee for us, and while I was in the kitchen, Sam did call…

*******

“Hey Sammy,”

“How’s everything Dean, you kinda left me hanging? Did you and Y/N talk?” Sam asks, feeling like a schoolgirl catching up on the latest gossip between you too.

Dean takes a quick peek into the living room to make sure you're still asleep. “Yeah, everything is good. We talked and I think we are going to take things slow.” Dean explains, as he starts to make the coffee, he recounts most of the conversation between you two. Not all the details though, he wants to keep the really good stuff just for him. 

Sam lets out a sigh, “That's good, I am happy for you both. But now I hate to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Look, I know you still want to take some time, until Y/N is fully healed, but Jody could really use your help. There is something in South Dakota that is running amuck, and she’s worried that Claire is going to try and tackle it herself.”

Oh Claire, how she reminds Dean of himself sometimes, headstrong and just ready to fight anything that wasn’t human. She is a good hunter, but she is young. “Umm…yeah…I am sure I can make something work….”

“Thanks Dean, I am sure it will only be a day or two, and then you can get back to Y/N. I will call Jody and tell her to expect you.” Sam says.

Saying their goodbyes, Dean hangs up the phone, and has to hold back from throwing it across the room in anger. Fuck! Not two seconds, and he’s already been pulled back into the madness. How is he going to explain this to her? She won’t believe him, she will be heartbroken again, think it's her fault, and say that she told him. 

Seeing no other solution - or maybe it was that he didn’t want to wake you and see that pain in your eyes - he takes the cowardly way out. 

*****

“So you went to help Jody, a friend of mine. And didn’t think I would understand?” You question him, after he explains the conversation between him and Sam. 

“Yes…I guess I figure you would just see it as an excuse I came up with to leave you. Which it wasn’t, by the way.”

“But you said you would call, check in. But you didn’t! You couldn’t have been helping Jody this whole time? And even if you were, could you still have called!”

“I wanted to, but as I was driving away, I kept thinking about what you said, that you felt like an afterthought, that I blow through town whenever I need you. Take what I need and leave you with nothing.”

“So you figure, prove me right by ghosting me? Well, thanks Winchester, real fun.” You spit sarcastically, giving his knee a not-so-playful slap and getting up from the couch. “The door is still where you left it, you can see yourself out.” Fucking asshole. I need to get those locks changed tomorrow. You think, making your way to the kitchen to get some more water, to do anything but sit there and keep listening to him.

“Y/N, please. I am sorry, you're not an afterthought. The more that I kept driving, and the longer I pushed off calling you, it made it harder to call you. Because I knew as soon as I did I would lose you.”

“Funny, because the second you left, you lost me Dean. God, I woke up that morning and was devastated. Do you know how much I hate feeling like that?” Not needing him to answer, you lean up against the counter crossing your arms around yourself. Feeling the tears start to fall, you might as well go all the way. 

“You know, I never wanted to be that girl, who cried over a guy, who refused to do anything but sleep on that goddamn couch for two months because it was the last place I felt safe, and whole, and seen. I could still smell you on the pillows and blanket.” 

Taking a breath, you run your hands over your face. Taking another ragged breath, you work up the courage to tell him what you know he should know, but that you're scared to say out loud. “But the thing I hate the most, the one thing that makes me want to scream…is that I still love you.” You laugh at this. Its fucking absurd. Trying your best  to stifle your laughter, but it keeps bubbling out of you in frustration and disbelief 

Dean’s not sure how to react. On the one hand, you say that you still love him, but on the other hand your laughing like the fucking Joker. “Being in love with me is…funny?” he tentatively asks. Taking a few steps towards you, but not closing the distance. 

Wiping the tears from your face, you admit quietly, “yes, because I know, no matter what, I will always let you back in. I guess I am just a masochist that way. I would rather have you in my life, and be heartbroken, than to not have you and still be heartbroken.”

Shaking your head, in disbelief that you actually said those words out loud, and to Dean no less. You look up to see him watching you, waiting. “God I am pathetic…you really should not have saved me that night…” you mumble the last part to yourself. Pushing yourself off the counter, you turn away from him, to straighten up the non-existent mess on the counter. Shit, should not have said that. 

“GOD DAMN IT Y/N!” Dean’s yell booms, causing you to turn around to see Dean seething with rage.    Taking the last few steps towards you, he pulls you into a vice grip of a hold. “Don’t you ever say that again, do you hear me? Do you?” He commands, shaking with hurt and pain. 

He’s not angry at you, he's angry that you don’t understand how much you mean to him. That you hold your life as something subpar. Pulling away slightly, he lets go so he can hold your face in his hands. “Please don’t ever think or say that I shouldn’t have saved you that night.” His green eyes, glassy with tears about to be shed, bore into yours. “You are the only good thing in my life, and I know I have a lot of work to do to gain your trust back, and that my life is messy and chaotic, but please…please….don’t ever think I would regret saving you that night.”

You nod your head in response. “Okay” you whisper, “I promise.” You were taken aback by his outburst; Dean has never raised his voice to you, or looked this broken. Then again, you’ve never been this broken, or joked about that night before either. It was a topic that neither of you ever really discussed, more of an unspoken bond between you two.

Relief seems to wash over him. His hands fall from your face, his arms wrapping them around your waist, not wanting to leave the closeness of you. “I know I have a lot of work to do, and this may be pushing my luck. But can I kiss you?” Giving you a half smile, hoping that will seal the deal.

“Fuck, there’s that Winchester charm,” you joke, smirking as well. Screw it, it's been four months without those lips. You lean in and kiss him. Letting your lips dance with his for a bit, you pull back, “just as good and I remember.” you say cheekily.

“So, should we go make some new memories on that couch of yours?” Dean gives you a wink, walking backwards towards the living room, his arms still around yours.

You have no choice but to follow him, nodding. You know that you have a lot of work to do getting over your own insecurities and self doubt that Dean will get tired of you, or that he will regret being with you. You need to have faith in him, and in yourself, that you are worthy of a happy life with him; whatever that looks like.

[winchesterfanatic1967]

The L Word

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,273 

Warnings- Season 5 spoilers

You awoke with a deep gasp, your heart pounding and eyes wide. Sitting up and looking around the room you realize that you’re ok. Sam was asleep on the motel bed next to you, while Dean slept peacefully beside you. His chest rose and fell steadily, and you were more than grateful that you didn’t wake either of the boys up. 

This hunt had been particularly difficult, and you knew the boys were exhausted and they needed their sleep. You were also exhausted, but the nightmares that usually occurred stopped you from being able to sleep. 

The truth is, you were defeated. You and the Winchester brothers were working non stop and it was beginning to be one hunt after the other without a break and casualty after casualty with more lives lost than saved. It was kind of Sam’s fault that the world was coming to an end, but he received so much backlash from everyone you figured he’s been punished enough. 

You couldn’t help but sigh softly and buried your face into your hands, then running your fingers through your scalp in frustration. Tears pricked at your eyes and you tried desperately to hold them back. All you wanted to do was sleep and get some well needed rest. 

“Y/n? S’matter?” 

You looked to your right to see Dean looking at you with squinty and sleepy eyes. Guilt coursed through you. “M’sorry De. Go back to sleep I’m alright.”

“What happened? Another nightmare?”

You look at him confused but he knew you better than you knew yourself. “We share a bed at every motel we stay in, and when we aren’t staying in a motel we’re living in the car. If you think I don’t know you by now or picked up on the fact that you’re not alright, you’re crazy.”

You quietly sigh, and look to your arms that were holding onto your legs. “You’re right. M’not alright. I haven’t been for some time.”

“I know.” He says teasingly with a smile playing onto his lips and yours did the same. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,-” You shook your head. “But..I really should.”

“I know I’m not the best person to talk to or get advice from. Hell, I bottle everything up and explode when I can’t take it anymore, but take it from me. Talking about your issues is way better than letting your mental health go down the drain…”

“I just…I feel like a failure. We’ve lost so many people in the last few years and with everything going on with the apocalypse… I feel like were losing more casualites than actually saving lives..”

The way he was looking at you was making your heart melt. His complete attention was on you, no distractions and every word you spoke you felt more and more comfortable expressing your feelings to him. You should’ve talked to him more, but you were stubborn just like him. 

The truth is, your heart belonged to Dean and it always will. You’ve had your fair share of hookups with him and you knew that’s all you would ever get. Let’s face it, hunters don’t get a happy ending and he made it perfectly clear that it was a friends with benefits relationship. 

Everytime he got close to someone it ended up in hurt and death. It’s the reason why he and Cassie never worked out, or why he had to walk away from Lisa. He knew he would never be able to get anything real and that’s why it was easy with you. No feelings or strings attached and you knew about the Supernatural so you understood the life. 

Everything went well except you broke the number one rule of your friends with benefits relationship. You grew real feelings. Of course you wouldn’t say anything to Dean, because having him as a friend was better than not having him as anything at all. 

“I just… I don’t know how to move forward. Trying so hard to save the world everyday and knowing it’s all on our shoulders is putting so much pressure on me. The clock is ticking and we’re running out of time. Jo and Ellen are dead because of us, Bobby can’t walk because of us…at his point I feel as if the world would be a better place without me” Your eyes welled up with tears and you were desperately trying to push them down. 

“Hey hey hey, c’mere…” He cooed gently and pulled you into him. You turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his torso while burying your face into the crock of his neck. 

He felt the tears sliding against his skin and his heart broke at the silent sobs that racked your body. He was so in love with you and it terrified him. He fell in love with you at the first hello. His past relationships never worked out but he couldn’t hide his adoration for you. He didn’t want to see you get hurt or to lose you so he figured innocent flirting and hooking up would do no harm. 

You meant way more to him than just a hookup. He was scared as fuck to tell you especially now. If he told you how he really felt knowing his luck you would die on him tomorrow. 

“Sweetheart, you have no idea how wrong you are..” He says softly. “The world would be a worse place without you in it. It would most likely already be destroyed if you weren’t here. No, this isn’t easy and it takes a toll on me too every single day. But I know for a damn fact without you, me, Sam and Bobby..it.. It wouldn’t be half the world it is. No, things aren’t the best with Bobby but unfortunately in our line of work it’s unpredictable and anything can happen at anytime. I really thought I would be dead by now and here I am at 30 alive and kicking. We’re doing our best and I can’t promise that any of us are going to make it through it, but I know for a fact we’re going to stop the apocalypse. If we go down, then we’re going to go down together and swinging…”

Your silent cries turned into tears, which eventually turned into occasional sniffles as he spoke softly. He always knew the right things to say to make you feel better. “Thank you…” You sniffle quietly and he wraps his arms around you tighter. 

“I wish our lives were different sweetheart, because I would love to be normal with you…white picket fence with a dog and some kids..”

You look up at him and the amount of vulnerability in his features made your heart flutter. “I want that more than anything too De…I have strong feelings for you and it scares the shit out of me…”

“I, I feel the same way. I want to use the L word so much…because you deserve nothing more than to hear it every day…but I can’t. M’ scared to shit that if I tell you you’ll be taken from me and I can’t…” He took a deep breath. 

“It’s okay De. I understand.” 

“C’mere.”

You snuggled deep into him as much as you could while burying your face into his neck once more. He placed a kiss to the top of your head while wrapping his arms around you snugly. 

“If somehow we do make it out of this…things will be different. I promise.” He spoke and now you had a reason to want to make it through this and live.

[love-yourself-first-tfw]

Hard to Love - Part One

Pairing: MOC!Dean/Demon!Dean x Reader 

Prompt: While dating Dean, he gets more and more reclusive toward you when he is given the Mark of Cain. Unable to handle the behavior, you leave but some part of him isn’t willing to let you go. 

Word Count: 3883 :) 

Warnings: Angst, Break-Up, Violence, Demon!Dean, lots of tears. 

Author’s Note: I had this saved as a draft from the end of 2016, unfinished so I tried to finish it as well as I could. It just came out like word vomit but I’m not sure how much I like it. I tried my best to make it gender neutral so if there are any mistakes, please let me know! 

Part Two 

You noticed that when you were lying in bed, he had his back towards you, almost falling off the bed to get away from your presence. Unable to reach out and touch him in fear of rejection, you continued to stare at his Henley-covered back, watching his steady breaths.

"Dean? Is everything okay with us?" The question sounds weird, a lump pushing into your throat, uncomfortably. He answered with a grunt, nothing else, keeping with his recent code of silence toward you. A dejected hum leaves your lips.

Turning on your back, looking around the room at all the items -- with some of you sprinkled in-- that make it your shared room. Wringing your hands together as you think about where you can go, you can’t stay here anymore, not like this. You want to help him but how can you when he doesn’t even want to be near you?

                                                                              Something had changed in the last few weeks. He wouldn't look at you, let alone talk. He wouldn’t shut up with Sam and Cas, though. 

Maybe the hours of silence with me drove him to talk to them.

Dean is only close to you when you are in Baby, driving to a hunt. Not holding your hand anymore but instead gripping the wheel, knuckles turning white, not sparing a glance at you. You’d gone as far as changing the music, to a pop station nonetheless, in the middle of one of his songs, hopeful of a reaction.  

Yell! Look at me with disgust! Do something, please!

But par for the course, Dean does nothing. He stares at the road, unmoving and silent while Sam and you stare at him in disbelief. The tears well up as you look at the horizon to your right, trying your best to not break in front of either man. Trying to understand what you could do differently. 

You stop sitting up front. You don’t talk to him. You avoid him at the bunker. You respond with little-to-no passive-aggressive comments when Dean talks to you through Sam. You keep your crying to the bathroom and shower, alone. 

You knew the Mark would change him but not like this. 

He kissed you last week after a rough hunt, a close call with a witch causing a teeny moment of intimacy between you two. Both of you pulled away with wide eyes: yours in shock and his in... disappointment? He walked ran away before a talk could be had, disappearing somewhere in the main area, while you went to take a shower; a habit forming. 

No matter what you try he just keeps pulling away.

Do I keep trying? 

I can get my things together and leave by the next hunt. Dean won’t stop me if I want to stay home.

Home. The thought made it so much more real. This is your home; Dean is your home. You take a sharp breath through your nose, trying not to make too much noise as you got up, going somewhere the breakdown won’t bother Dean.

                                                                                When Sam comes up to you in the morning, letting you know that there’s a possible ghost in the next town over, an easy salt and burn. You sniffle for effect as you tell Sam that you’re not feeling the greatest, watching his eyes drop in sympathy. 

He throws his arm around your shoulders, leading you back toward your bedroom.

“You shouldn’t be up then, dude. Go lay down, I’ll bring you some medicine before we leave, and I’ll tell Dean you aren’t coming. I’m sure he’ll want to see you.” 

You don’t need to look at Sam to know he doesn’t believe what he’s saying but you thank him regardless, feeling guilty about what the future will be. A hug in the doorway, tighter on your end than usual, ends when he pulls away and helps you back into bed. 

Sam comes back with some pills and a cup of water, ice clinking against the glass, with each stride. “Do you need anything else?” 

With the blanket tucked under your chin, you shake your head. “No, I’m good. I’m just gonna sleep it off and if it gets worse, I’ll text you, okay?” 

“Okay, I hope you feel better soon, (Y/N/N), and don’t beat yourself up about Dean. He’s not doing well with the Mark; he still loves you.” 

You close your eyes and turn your back to him after you nod to his comment, trying to hint that he’s good to leave and that if he stays, you’d rather not talk.

“Thanks, Sammy. I love ya.” 

“Love you too, (Y/N).” 

The click of the door shutting follows the flick of the light switch. And more tears. Silent and steady as you listen and wait for the departure that begins the end of life as you know it. 

Exhausted from the last few days of one-sided fighting, you try to fight off the sleep that takes over, but you slip under just as the hall light spills in when Dean peaks his head past the door frame. 

                                                                              It’s a few hours later when you wake up to a text from Sam, they’ve made it to the cozy town, and he will let you know when it’s done or if they have any problems. You let him know you feel better before wishing them luck on the hunt, getting up, and beginning the process of mission: Disappearing (Y/N). 

With a sigh, you start going through the knick-knacks that you’ve collected over the years, sighing again when you realize that all things will just remind you of him. Anger flares within you, the white-hot rage of your hand being forced, the whole situation out of your control. 

Leaving the small things and just grabbing your clothes from the closet, looking around the room for anything that could be useful on the trip. No mementos to save. You slam the door on your way out, going to your old room next, going through the same routine as before.

Two filled duffel bags sit in the back seat of your car when you finish, mostly clothes and things you’d brought with you when you moved into the bunker. Not running around anymore, the rush of adrenaline begins to fade turning into more anger. 

“Why!? I don’t understand?!” You hit the steering wheel with your palms, letting out a scream that transforms into an ugly wet, wail. 

A note laying in the war room, on the map table, explains why you left, addressed to Sam, in a last effort to be heard or at the very least get the last word. Your phone is on top of the note, showing the seriousness of your actions.

Sam,

Maybe we will see each other on the road again but I can’t stay somewhere I’m clearly not wanted. I’m sorry for lying to you and not saying goodbye in person. I don’t think I would’ve gone otherwise. Love ya, dude. Tell jerk face that I’ll always love him even if he has that mark on his arm, if he becomes a demon, or if he hates me. Always. 

I hope the best for you in the future. 

Goodbye,

(Y/N)

You wipe your nose with your sleeve, lifting your head from the steering wheel to embark on the journey to a new home. 

                                                                              In just a few months, you are settled in your new apartment in Colorado, taking a break from hunting to get familiar with the area. Neither Dean nor Sam gets into contact with you, whether that’s not wanting to or for lack of trying, you don’t know. 

With a new job in a library in town, you try to get past the guilt that sweeps over you every now and then, reminding yourself of the way you were treated. Of why you left in the first place. 

Unlocking the door after a long Monday of reshelving books, the silence of the apartment is disturbed by your keys going into the bowl next to the coat rack. You slip your shoes off before sliding your jacket off and onto the rack, turning to the living room and shouting in shock at Dean, who is standing, arms crossed, in front of the couch. 

“What the hell? Why are you in my house?” 

“Why do you have a devil’s trap in your living room?” He smirks, a glint in his eyes that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “Seems like you were expecting someone.” 

You put it there when you moved in, taking a page from Bobby’s book by using invisible blacklight paint. Decided that while one is useful in front of the door, the living room was also easy to run through if caught off guard, with no door to slow you down, and no one expects it there. 

Looking him over again before answering his question, his face is thinner than when you last saw him, hair gelled in a way that looks unnatural for him. His dark red button-up hangs loosely on his body. 

“For this reason. Though I can’t say I expected you to be stuck in it. Who killed you?” 

“Metatron. Though to be fair, I did try to kill him first.” You hum as he tries-- and fails-- to sit on the couch. “You couldn’t have made this any smaller, huh?” 

The smirk on his face only grows as he feels irritation roll off of you. “What do you want, Dean?” 

Now it’s his turn to look you up and down, wetting his lips before speaking. “I can think of a couple things.” 

You roll your eyes and make your way to your bedroom. 

“Oh, c’mon. I was just joking, sweetheart!” 

You ignore his words and change into comfortable clothes before dialing Sam’s number, deciding that letting him know was better than waiting for any more of Dean’s antics. 

“Hello?”

“Sam? It’s (Y/N). Dean just showed up at my house and got stuck in a devil’s trap.” You sigh, rubbing your forehead.

Another shout from the living room brings tears to your eyes, the love of your life so close but so far at the same time. 

“Just wanted to talk to ya! You gonna leave me out here alone?” 

Sam asks for your address, giving you the details of what had conspired in the last couple of weeks: Dean dying and being turned into a demon, then bolting and teaming up with Crowley-- doing only God knows what around the country-- meanwhile Sam is doing everything he can to find and cure his brother.

“I’m not too far from you but I’ll still be awhile. Like...” he pauses, taking a deep breath, “maybe seven hours. I’m sorry I can’t get there sooner.” 

“It’s okay, I’ll keep him here. I can’t say he’ll be in a happy mood when you get here.” 

“Well, he won’t be happy to see me anyway, so it won’t matter. Thanks for the heads up though. I’ll let you know when I get there.” 

“Okay, see you soon, Sam.” 

With a deep breath, you slid out into the hallway, building up the confidence to make yourself visible to Dean. 

“You can do this. Make your dinner and ignore the living, breathing, talking, statue in the middle of your apartment.” Nodding to yourself, you walk out with your chin up. 

“There you are!” 

Dean’s eyes follow you past him and the couch as you move to the kitchen. Keeping busy with the leftovers, you avoid making eye contact with Dean, brushing his announcement off with silence. When you put the plate of chicken and rice into the microwave, your focus drifts from the timer counting down to those vibrant pools of green, ominous black hiding behind them. 

His eyebrows raise up in amusement, “You lose. Are you going to talk to me now?” 

“How ‘bout no.” You cross your arms, scoffing at the question.

“You just did, baby. Now just hear me out, you said you’d still love me as a demon, but this doesn’t feel like love to me.” 

He chuckles darkly at the end of his words. His demeanor changes: eyebrows pulling down, eyes darkening, and a sneer coming onto his lips. 

The microwave beeps, pulling your attention away, though your words slip out before you can think about it. “I do still love you, jerk face.” 

It’s not a secret or a lie, you just didn’t want to say it aloud. It had been peaceful dissociating from all that and using every waking moment to adjust to the new way of living without him, not knowing if he would ever come back. 

The plate hits the counter harder than you mean for it to, tears stinging your eyes again. “What do you want from me, Dean? I left so you wouldn’t have to feel guilty about whatever the fuck you felt guilty about. You didn’t want to explain it to me then, what do you possibly have to say now?” 

A split second of shock passes Dean’s face before it’s back to anger. He opens his mouth, but you cut him off before he can say anything, pulling the silverware drawer open and grabbing a fork. 

“No, seriously. I. Don’t. Care. There really is no fucking excuse for what you put me through. So, unless you want to say sorry-- which I highly doubt, considering the black eyes rolling around back there-- shut up.” You slam the drawer: the loud noise and rattling of metals end your shouting. Taking a deep breath and beginning to eat, your back turned away from him, with a tiny, fragment of hope he actually listens. 

He blows a raspberry, “Well, that’s where you are sorely mistaken. I’m sorry for what the numb nuts did to you. To think, I could’ve had you from the beginning if he’d just said a few words to you now and again.” 

Your chewing stops as the food becomes a rock in your mouth, no longer able to swallow as you listen to him. Staring ahead at the balcony door as he continues spewing words at you. 

“Instead of all the cheap whores in dingy bars, I could’ve had you. Waiting on little ole’ me.” It’s clear from his tone that he is mocking you, taunting your words. Even though the relationship is over, the words make your chest twist uncomfortably, your watery eyes finally spilling over. 

“Whatever, have fun out here by yourself.” You leave the half-eaten meal on the counter, not sparing a glance at the man as you pass him to go to your room, keeping your head down to hide the tears that stream down your face. 

Slamming the door, shoving your face in a pillow, and screaming to relieve the stress of the situation, only helps bring more cries out of you. You know it’s not the Dean you knew talking to you but the twisted and dark version, wanting what he wants with no care about who it may affect. 

The darkness of your eyelids fluttering takes over you as you fall asleep to Dean’s calls to you. A dream of your life from before fills your head, one more moment with Dean that you can hope to forget when you wake.

                                                                            You jerk awake when your phone buzzes from a text, the vibrations magnified by the wood of the side table. Two texts from Sam illuminate the screen. 

From Sam: I just got into town I’ll be there in twenty minutes.

From Sam: Just got to your apartment. You get my first text?

To Sam: Sorry, fell asleep. 2C. Door’s unlocked for you. 

From Sam: I’ll be up there soon. 

When you take a moment to listen, it’s completely silent. Panicking at the thought that Dean was able to get away before Sam and you could cure him, you rush to the living room. Dean stands still, glaring at you as you appear from the hallway.

His lips are drawn into a sneer as he snarls, “how nice of you to come to see your guest.” 

The door opens as he ends, catching his attention, a scoff comes from him when Sam comes around the door. 

“I told you to fuck off, Sam. I don’t want you to be cured.”

Sam just shrugs, putting the duffel bag on the couch, and unloading some tools to get Dean back to the bunker with little to no issues. 

“Dean, you told me that you’d leave (Y/N) alone. So, what’s that about? Tired of the demon life?” 

Sam motions to you, hair crumpled from the impromptu nap, eyes, and nose red from crying. “You’ve been bar hopping for weeks on end, new people in your bed every night. Your freaking wet dream. Why are you here, ripping open an old wound, on someone who clearly doesn’t want shit from you?”  

“I saw you. You were at the bar in town, with some others, didn’t even notice me when I sat down at the bar top-- can’t say your observation skills were ever the best anyway.” Dean eyes you as he speaks, watching your jaw clench at the small dig toward you. 

“And then I get a call from some dude about how he caught Sam and if I wanted him back alive, I’d have to switch places with him, I told him to fuck off and came here instead. Looks like you made it alright, didn’t ya, Sammy?” 

“Yup, just like always.” He puts his good hand on your back, steering you towards the kitchen. 

“What the hell, seriously, Sam? What happened?” 

Sam leans against the countertop, his chin resting on his chest as he takes a deep breath. You reach into the freezer for a bag of peas, wrap it in a towel, and press it to his black eye, letting him hold the makeshift icepack when he winces. 

“He pulled up when I was stranded on the side of the road, I thought he was going to help but he knocked me out and brought me to an old barn, maybe?” 

His head drops, no longer making eye contact with you. 

“He called Dean and then when Dean hung up, he just went off.” Mocking the man who had tortured him only a day before, Sam’s voice lowers comically, “He killed my father in front of me...Two tours in Iraq in Special OPS...blah blah blah. Then he hit me a bunch, trying to get Dean’s location.” 

Two tours in Iraq? Special OPS? 

His pause allows you to ask your next question of many, “how did you get away?” 

“He got a phone call and when he pulled his phone out, his knife fell from his pocket, and I just got out.” 

A twinge of doubt and anxiety spread through you, the words “that seems too easy” on your lips after he explains. He finally looks back at you, seeing the questioning expression on your face.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He lowers the frozen peas when you make your way to the living room again. 

“You mean to tell me that a solider, not just any ol’ solider at that, special OPS who served two tours in Iraq and he just dropped a knife, that let you get away?” 

As if to emphasize your point, the whole house goes dark. You reach the bookshelf behind Dean, both men watching you. The few beats of silence are broken when the front window breaks, a canister rolling onto the floor behind the couch, spraying a thick, white cloud of smoke. 

It reaches Sam first, harsh coughs coming from him as he yells for you to get to the backyard. Feeling the wall by the bookcase, you find the string taped to the wall that will break the seal when pulled. Feeling your eyes water, nose and throat burning, you tug the string with you as you move toward the back door, breaking the trap’s seal, and releasing Dean.

The smoke impedes your vision, your hip catches on the corner of the couch making you stumble to the floor, and more coughs force their way up through your lips. 

Arms encircle your waist, and harsh whispers come over your shoulder, “Jesus, your life is in danger, and you release the demon, how sickening.” He helps you to the fresh air that burns when you greedily suck it down. 

Dean’s support leaves your body, your knees hitting the moist grass that seeps through your sweatpants. When you open your eyes, you have to blink past the tears to see Sam lying next to you and Dean in front of you.  An unknown voice speaks to Dean, emotional and hate-filled, “You remember me?” 

“Yeah, you’re the guy from that thing.” 

“We talked on the phone. This is payback.”

The two men begin to fight, Dean doesn’t even try to pull punches, continuing to belittle him, yelling coming from Cole with every hit that he takes. Sam moves, waking up from a hit to the head, eyes meeting yours before flitting to Dean. Dean taunts and throws the man’s gun to the side, winking at you before he turns back to the fight.

“...spitballing here, but maybe you’re not as good as you think.” 

A pause from Dean before he laughs. “Ooh,” Dean’s hands go up in a fake surrender wave, “You know kung-fu?”

“I know everything.”

Dean gets into Cole’s face after quoting The Princess Bride, making his first mistake as Cole slices his face with his knife. Going to stab, only angering Dean more when he grabs Cole’s throat.

“You have no idea what you walked into, do you?”

“What are you?” 

Knowing Dean’s eyes are black at the expression on Cole’s face, you close your eyes, hearing the rest of the fight and Cole egging Dean on to kill him. 

“I changed my mind, I guess.” Dean chuckles before he breaks out in a hiss.

“It’s over! Stop.” 

You open your eyes and see that Sam has managed to get the Devil’s trap handcuffs on Dean. A murderous look on Dean’s face, staring up at Sam from his knees. Sam ignores his brother’s glare, looking at you as you sit back on your heels. “You okay, (Y/N/N)?”

You nod, watching Sam force Dean into the back of Baby, unable to take your eyes off Dean, who continues to kill Sam with his unblinking, scowl. 

Sam helps you up, keeping an eye on Dean so he can’t escape. “You can come with us. I’m giving the first blade to Crowley and I’m going to try to cure him. I don’t know if it’ll work but I’m hopeful.” 

You look back to your house; in the scuffle to get Dean, neither you nor Sam see where Cole flees to-- the feeling of safety and home lost, now that the invasion is over. 

Sighing, you wrap your arms around yourself, nodding and speaking softly, “yeah, let me just grab a couple of things and I’ll be down. You might need some help with him.” 

Looking back at Dean, you speak again, unsure how firm the words are. “I’ll stay until he’s cured but after that, I’m gonna go.” 

                                                                          Part Two

[alexsoenomel]

About Love(Dean Winchester x Reader drabble)

Summary: You and Dean have a conversation about life before falling asleep.

Warnings: None

Note: I saw this kind of dialogue in Neil Gaiman's American Gods and since I'm trying to get back to writing I decided to write just that, no descriptors, just dialogue.

"Dean, what was your dream before becoming a hunter?"

"I've never really thought of that, why?"

"I've been thinking about my dead dream and started wondering about yours."

"And what was it?"

"I was young and lost, so I had a couple of things in mind and that would also change from time to time. From a psychologist to librarian, but one thing always stayed and that was I wanted to write books."

"You never told me you like to write."

"Used to. And you never told me about your dream."

"I never had time to think about that. My old man gave me a riffle before I even realized I could have a dream."

"That's impossible everyone has a dream."

"Dreaming wasn't a thing in our household, I guess."

"What about love? Family? Something you wanted to do when you were a kid."

"I was too busy taking care of Sam to think about my own needs and wants. But I wanted a family at one point when I got older that's for sure."

"Like kids?"

"Yeah, I told you about Lisa and Ben. I've experienced what it would be like to have a normal life and I really liked it, but the job never leaves you."

"I know. When I was a teenager I used to write stories every single day after school and I was convinced I would grow up to be a writer slash something because doing one job for the rest of my life sounded so boring and yet here we are."

"What kind of stories did you write?"

"Romance, lots and lots of romance."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, I was a lonely teenager obsessed with love and being in love. My parents used to tell me that I loved too much and guys I dated never appreciated that."

"That makes sense."

"How so? You appreciate the way I love and put the same amount of effort in this relationship."

"Yeah but it took time. I didn't really know what I was doing when we first got together. I knew your heart was made not to be broken, but I was still struggling not to hurt you. I knew underneath that badassery was someone gentle and kind."

"Hey, sue me but I still try."

"And I knew you needed time, especially since you're not really famous for communicating your feelings properly."

"Yeah, you do. You're the first person to NOT hurt me just because..."

"That's the last thing I wanna do and you know that."

"I do. You're also the first person that made me think about having kids with..."

"I know."

"I never told you I wanted kids."

"Last year when you thought you were pregnant I saw it on your face. You were so disappointed when you saw only one line."

"To be honest I was scared, but at the same time..."

"Yeah, me too."

"Do you still want it?"

"Yeah, I think about it all the time but hunting is not something you can just quit."

"I know. Maybe in another life we will find each other again, have boring jobs and a family."

"How many?"

"A boy and a girl."

"I don't think I'd be good at being a girl dad."

"Oh you'd be perfect. A little bit overprotective but she'd have you wrapped around her finger."

"Like her mom."

"And our son would admire you and would think his dad is a badass."

"I like the sound of that."

"Like I said, maybe in another life..."

"Also great music taste would run in the family if you don't count Sam."

"That's for sure."

[ninii-winchester]

Main Masterlist

Angst- 🌧️

Fluff- 🫶🏻

Implied smut- 🥵

Smut- 💦

Dean Winchester :

ONE/TWO SHOTS AND DRABBLES

The heart wants what it wants : Dean falls for a simple girl, would he lose her over his life as a hunter. 🌧️🫶🏻

Deepest Desire : What happens when Dean reveals his deepest desire and it’s not what Y/n expected. 🌧️

Chosen Affection : Part 2 to Deepest desire. Dean tells Y/n the truth. 🌧️🫶🏻🥵

One of your girls : Y/n attempts to seduce Dean in a bar. 🥵

Only girl : Part 2 to One of your girls 💦🫶🏻

R and R : Just some Rest and Relaxation. 🥵

Shut up, Winchester : Dean does the one eight reverse thing on Baby. 🫶🏻🥵

I don’t wanna live forever : Dean’s a demon and doesn’t want to go back, will y/n be able to convince him? 🌧️

Dusk till Dawn : Part 2 to I don’t wanna live forever, what happens when Sam brings Dean back. 🌧️🫶🏻🥵

But Daddy, I love him : Dean fell in love with a demon, Crowley’s daughter specifically. 🫶🏻

Baby : Who is Dean’s baby? 🫶🏻

Tender Care : Y/n takes care of Dean when he’s sick.🫶🏻

Lie to me : Y/n asks Dean do her a favour and lie to her. 🌧️

Fleeting love : Dean’s high school love story.🫶🏻🌧️

Timeless love : Part 2 to fleeting love, Dean and Y/n meet again. 🌧️🫶🏻

The Witch and the Hunter : Dean doesn’t like cats or witches, ironically he falls for both. 🫶🏻

MINI SERIES

Revived: A witch hunt goes wrong and Dean dies. 🌧️🫶🏻

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (Completed)

You’d never know : Dean bears the consequences of saying something he shouldn’t have said. 🌧️🫶🏻

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Completed)

Crossed Allegiances : What happens when Y/n has to choose her life over love. 🌧️🫶🏻💦

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (Completed)

SERIES

Unveiled Sorrows : Dean and Y/n’s complicated journey through the Apocalypse. 🌧️🫶🏻🥵

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue (Completed)

Behind Closed Doors : Boss Dean AU. 🌧️🫶🏻

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Jensen Ackles:

ONE/ TWO SHOTS AND DRABBLES:

Reverie : A heartfelt banter between Mr and Mrs Ackles 🫶🏻

Sam Winchester :

ONE/TWO SHOTS AND DRABBLES :

Uncertainty : A case leads Y/n to some revelations. 🌧️🫶🏻

What’s a girl gotta do : Find out what’s a girl gotta do to be loved. 🫶🏻

Slumber Party: Sam’s girl braids his hair. 🫶🏻

Others:

Blue eyed stud : Damon X Reader. (TVD)

[thirdsaltyhunter]

Girl's Night

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Jody and Donna ask you for help on a hunt and you all get drunk and call your boyfriend while you're away

Warning: fluff, cuteness, kissing, mentions of a hunt so violence?, celebratory drinking, getting drunk

A/N: not proofread, all mistakes are my own

You woke up earlier than you usually did. Jody had given you a call to tell you that her and Donna had caught wind of a pack of werewolves just south of Sioux Falls and could use your help taking them out.

You wanted to start driving early so you could avoid most of the traffic and so you could offer your expertise as soon as possible. However, mornings aren't really your thing. You fought back the groan at how much you didn't want to leave your comfortable spot in bed where Dean was currently keeping you warm. Nonetheless, you began wiggling your way out from under his arm. You were trying not to wake him up this early because he hadn't slept enough this week.

As you tossed some clothes into your duffel bag, you thought you might be able to make it out without waking him, but he was always a light sleeper. A quiet grumble of your name sounded from beneath the covers.

"Hey baby," you whispered going back to the side of the bed.

"You leaving?" he asked, noticing your packed duffle bag, voice rough with sleep.

"Yeah, Jody asked me to help her and Donna take out some wolves."

He nodded and reached for you to pull you into a hug which, from the position he was in, meant that you were just laying on top of him. He was always extra cuddly in the mornings and you loved it, despite how much it tempted you to crawl back under the covers with him. "Be careful out there," he said, placing a kiss to your temple.

"You know I will." You propped yourself up on your elbow so you could look down at him. "Besides, you know it's gonna be a milk run. They probably don't even need me, they just want me to come up there so we can have girl's night."

He chuckled at that, because he knew you were right. Now that he thought about it, the last time he saw them, Donna had threatened that she'd drive down to Kansas herself and kidnap you if he didn't hand you over for a weekend.

He leaned up to plant a sweet kiss to your lips. "Call me when you finish the hunt so I know you're ok."

"I will." You kissed him again before crawling off of him. "I love you, go back to sleep."

"I love you too, sweetheart," he said, already burying his face into the pillow.

The hunt ended up being even easier than you thought it would be. You, Jody and Donna made a pretty formidable and efficient hunting team. The hunt was done before the sun even fully set, so you headed back to Jody's house to begin cooking dinner.

You couldn't help but smile at how quickly he gave in to your request. Grabbing your duffle, you headed out of the bedroom to say your goodbyes to Sam before you made your way to your car to start the long drive up to Sioux Falls.

You all decided to forget the plan of cooking dinner and reward yourselves for a hunt-well-done by ordering pizza instead. Claire was off on her own hunt and Alex was working a late shift at the hospital. That left only you, Donna and Jody, sitting on the livingroom floor around a mostly empty pizza box, passing around a bottle of wine.

About an hour later, the three of you were well past tipsy and were having the best time laughing and telling stories from various hunts.

After catching up on everything and finishing off the bottle of wine, Jody decided to pull out the bourbon and poured a good amount of each of you.

"Soooo", Jody began with a hint of mischief in her voice. "How's Dean?"

"Yeah we need to hear about our favorite couple," Donna chimed in.

You knew she was talking about you and Dean but you decided to play around. "I don't know what you're talking about," you teased.

"Oh come on you know what we're talk'n about. We want to know what you and ol' Dean's like when you're away from the eyes of the world, y'know, when you put the hunter armor down," Jody inquired.

"I betcha he wears fuzzy socks and watches chick-flics, don't he?" Donna added teasingly.

That had you almost rolling on the floor with laughter. "Oh yeah, definitely."

It was nice being kind of childish like this with them. You had never had many friends in your teenage years and the hunting life didn't typically allow for gal-pals, but you had developed a really good friendship despite not having the time to see each other very often.

You wiped the tears of laughter from your eyes. "Oh shit, I forgot to call him", you attempted to grab your phone out of your bag, which took longer than needed, given your lack of coordination. "Dean asked me to call him after the hunt."

Jody and Donna looked at each other and awwww'ed in unison.

You tapped Dean's contact and put the phone to your ear. After a few rings you heard his voice. "Hey sweetheart."

"Heeeey", you greeted excitedly, voice slightly slurred.

"Hiya Dean-o", Donna said loud enough for Dean to hear.

You could hear him laugh on the other end, clearly gathering that you were all pretty inebriated and having a good time. "So I take it the hunt went well", he said with amusement in his voice.

"Oh it went great, we're badasses."

"I have no doubt of that," he said fondly.

"Hey Dean!" Jody cut in. "Is it true you wear fuzzy sock and watch chick-flicks when you're at home?"

"Baby, what did you tell them about me?" Dean asked you with mock annoyance.

"Oh nothing," you responded playfully. "Anyway gotta go."

You could hear he was barely holding back from laughing. "Hey hold on-" *click*

You bit your lip as you hung up on him before looking up at Jody and Donna. As soon as you made eye contact you all bust out laughing.

[fics-and-quotes-andthelike]

May I request a fanfic with Dean Winchester x fem!reader, who is into cars and drives an Rx-7? She should be really sweet and innocent and her car-hobby is something you wouldn’t expect first glance. She loves drift events and works at a garage. Thank uuu!!!

Have a lovely day and remember to eat and drink enough! 💕

We Have Time

Title: We Have Time

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Word Count: ~3,825

A/N: Thank you so much @milkb0nny for the request!! I really got into this story, and I hope it lives up to what you were imagining.

And thank you for your kind words, I hope you have a great read and an amazing day!

A 1967 Chevy Impala.

You couldn’t help but stare, your jaw slack as you admired the car. You had a pretty nice car too, if you did say so yourself, but you hadn’t seen a freaking 1967 Chevy Impala in a while.

Your head tilted to the side as you slowly walked up to the car. You’d absolutely love to get your hands on it, but you could tell that the car was loved and well taken care of, and that the owner would probably never let another person lay their hands on it.

You were startled out of your thoughts when someone cleared their throat behind you. You whirled around in surprise and were suddenly standing face to face with two men. They were both tall, though one was taller than the other, with long brown hair. The other was a bit shorter, with cropped blond hair and piercing green eyes.

You could feel blood rushing up to your cheeks in embarrassment. “Sorry,” you said.

The taller man smiled kindly. “No worries. What’re you up to?”

You shook your head, your cheeks still flaming. “Nothing. Well, I was headed back to work, but I got distracted and now I’m a little late, but I should be fine, I think. I just love this car and I had to stop and take a closer look and now here we are.”

The taller man chuckled at your tangent, but the shorter man was looking behind you. You followed his stare and came face to face with your own lovely car. Your 1995 Mazda RX-7.

You turned back towards the two men when you heard the blond one finally speak. “That’s a damn nice car.”

You felt pride brimming in your chest. Of course it was. You’d kept it in pristine condition, and if there was one thing that you knew for sure, it was cars.

The man looked back towards you and offered a small smirk. “You like my car, sweetheart?.”

You smiled easily. “I love it, actually.”

His smirk grew as he put on a flirtatious voice shamelessly. “Oh, yeah? You wanna go for a ride sometime?”

The taller man made a face of disgust, but you were practically jumping for joy. “Really? You mean it?”

The shorter man blinked in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected you to say yes. Why wouldn’t you, though? It was a freaking Impala.

You reached out a hand, still buzzing with excitement. “I guess if you’re offering me a ride, I should introduce myself. Hi, I’m y/n.”

The taller man reached out a hand first, his handshake gentle. “I’m Sam. Nice to meet you.”

You moved your hand towards the shorter man, who took your hand in his. His grip was firm. You smiled as he introduced himself. “Dean.”

You nodded and looked back towards the car again. “So, did you mean it?”

Dean hesitated, looking you over, before nodding slowly. “Yeah, I meant it. We’re only in town for a few days, but why don’t you give me your number? I’ll take you on a ride.”

Your smile widened and you quickly recited your number as soon as Dean had his phone out. 

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and raised his eyebrows at you. “You sure about this?”

You nodded vigorously. “Yeah, of course. If you guys don’t mind me hitching a ride for a bit, obviously. I’d sit in the backseat, and I’m a good passenger.”

At that, a smile of amusement grew on Sam’s features as Dean cleared his throat. “I think you misunderstood me, sweetheart.”

A wave of disappointment crashed over you. “Oh.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “No, not like- I was thinking I’d leave the lunkhead behind and the two of us could go for a ride.”

“Oh,” you said again, relief filling your chest. “Yeah, that's fine.”

You could see Sam stifling laughter, though you weren’t sure why. You looked towards your phone and gasped lightly. You started walking backwards towards your car as you spoke. “I’ll definitely take you up on that, call me whenever. I really gotta go, but it was nice to meet you, though!”

You turned and ran the rest of the distance, hurriedly entering your car and driving off as quickly as possible in the hopes that you wouldn’t get fired for being so late.

From the same spot that you’d left them in, Sam burst out into laughter as Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam bent over, trying to catch his breath. “I don’t think she got the hint, Dean. Or maybe she’s just more interested in your car than you. You’re losing your touch.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean muttered, sulking towards Baby. Who cared what Sam said? You’d said yes to the ride, right? That had to count for something.

He looked off in the direction your car had gone in. “I can’t believe that’s her car.”

Sam threw him a look as he walked over to Baby and opened the passenger’s door. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. If you know how to take care of it.”

“Right. Because you’ve never even gotten a scratch on your car.”

“Hey,” Dean said warningly. “Baby’s been through some tough times, but she knows she can count on me.”

~~~

Dean stood still, staring at Baby. 

Sam stood to his right, staring at the damage as well. They’d been standing here for a few minutes. The worst part about it was that the hunt was already over. There was nothing and nobody for Dean to take out his anger on.

Sam glanced towards Dean, hoping that this wouldn’t cause him to go feral. He opened his mouth to offer condolences, but Dean stopped him before he could speak.

“Not a word.”

Sam nodded silently and looked back towards Baby. It definitely wasn’t pretty. 

Dean had been able to fix his car up plenty of times, but Sam had a feeling that even Dean might need some help with this one, if only so that he didn’t mope around in silence for hours as he fixed his Baby.

Not that he’d say that right now, of course. He’d wait until Dean finally stopped staring at the wreckage, first.

~~~

Dean stood a safe distance away from the car garage, leaning on Baby. His eyebrows were furrowed in anger and his arms were crossed over his chest. He’d love nothing more than to just drive away, but he’d have to come back for Sam anyway, so there was really no point.

Sam was talking to someone about the damage that Baby had sustained during the hunt. Dean wasn’t even sure what cover story they were using. He’d been too upset to ask.

Not that it mattered. They shouldn’t have come in the first place. He could’ve fixed Baby up on his own.

He still could. Maybe Sam could just walk back to the motel.

“Hey!”

He glanced towards the voice and immediately dropped his arms down by his side when he saw who the voice belonged to. He smiled, the anger in his chest subsiding slightly. “Hey yourself, sweetheart.”

You looked behind him and your eyes widened as you saw the state of his car. To say that you were surprised was an understatement. You’d definitely wanted to get your hands on that car, but you really hoped that you hadn’t just manifested an accident or something.

You looked back towards Dean. “What happened?”

Dean shook his head and closed his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

You nodded slowly, your eyes still stuck on the poor Impala. “Okay.”

Dean looked over at you. “Eyes are over here, sweetheart.”

Your eyes snapped over to Dean. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just… sorry. Anyway.”

Dean smiled slightly. “Anyway.”

You grinned. “You said you were only in town for a while, right? What brings you here, of all places?”

Dean felt a warmth in his chest, thankful that you were kind enough to try and distract him. “My brother and I are travelers. We just wander wherever the wind takes us.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms. “The wind picked a horrible time to send you here. There’s been a bunch of accidents lately. I’m getting a bit worried, honestly.”

Dean felt a small smirk creep onto his face. “Is that right? I have a feeling it’ll die down.”

You made a face. “Horrible choice of words.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he let out a small cough. “You’re right. Sorry.”

You shrugged and smiled. “It’s fine. Wandering where the wind takes you sounds fun, though. I’ll have to try it some time.”

Before Dean could respond, you heard someone call out your name. You both turned in the direction of the garage to see who it was. Your boss pointed towards the Impala and cupped her hands around her mouth to shout, “These boys need a hand with their car! You got it?”

You waved a hand to show acknowledgment. Your boss nodded and walked back into the garage.

Dean whipped his head around to face you. “You’re a mechanic?”

You smiled with pride. “Only the best in the business.”

Dean looked you up and down. “Is that right?”

“You’re the one with the beat up car.”

“Don’t.”

You grinned unapologetically. “Sorry.”

You looked up as Sam approached the two of you. “Hey,” he said, “is there anywhere around here where we can get some food?”

You nodded and pointed. “Five minute walk that way, you’re going to hit a few places and a market. Is that okay?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, that’s perfect, thanks.” He looked over at Dean. “Come on, let’s let her work.”

Dean looked over at you, who sent him a sweet smile. He shook his head slowly and turned back towards Sam. “I’ll stay here, help out with whatever.”

Sam made a sound of disbelief. “She’s a professional, Dean, she can handle it.”

“Oh, I know she can. I just want to see her in action.”

You blushed, looking away with a smile.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll be back.”

Dean nodded and watched for a moment as Sam walked away before turning back to you. “So. How long is this going to take?”

You shrugged and looked behind him, cringing at the damage. “Three days, minimum.”

Dean closed his eyes in pain before shaking his head. “Alright. Alright, that’s fine. We have time.” He opened his eyes and smiled. “So. What other surprises are you hiding?”

~~~

“That’s bull!”

Dean watched you fondly as you yelled at the television that was set up in the garage.

You were multitasking, watching Formula Drift as you worked on fixing up the Impala. Which isn’t what he had expected from you, but really, he should have known better by now.

After all, this was the third day that the two of you had been busy repairing Baby. 

Your time together had started out quietly. On day one, when you had gotten Baby to your workspace, you’d started crooning as if she were a living thing. Dean had taken a liking to you immediately after that.

As soon as you started working, the two of you made progress quickly, much faster than he could’ve ever done it on his own. It was made even faster by the fact that you were splitting tasks and helping each other out whenever possible.

The first day of work was mostly silent, except for a few short exchanges here and there.

But on day two, you two had gotten to talking. You were an open book, no secrets or lies to you at all. Well, except for the fact that you were “sweet and harmless on the outside but a tough mechanic here in the garage”, according to Dean. You’d laughed at that, causing that warmth to appear in Dean’s chest again.

You had told Dean a bit about your life, and how your family was no longer in the picture after an accident that had happened a few years back. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean had said softly.

You smiled. “Thank you.”

Dean had found himself telling you a bit about his life as well. That Mary had passed away long ago, and that John had gone more recently.

You had looked at him with such compassion in your eyes as you said, “I’m sorry, truly.”

He had nodded once in acknowledgment before he’d steered the conversation towards something else.

You were easy to talk to. Almost too easy. Today, on day three of working, Dean had almost told you what he had really been doing that had caused so much damage to the Impala. He caught himself just in time, but still marveled at how easy it was to be honest with you.

Luckily, your conversation had been cut short when your boss walked in and turned the television on. “You’ve got to see this,” was all the context that she had provided before walking out once again.

Dean had glanced at the screen in surprise when he saw Formula Drift playing, and looked over at you with even more surprise when you immediately repositioned yourself so that you could work on Baby and watch the TV at the same time.

You’d been working and watching the competition for a while now, instructing Dean to hand you a tool every once in a while or giving him a job to do when you didn’t want to tear your gaze away from the screen.

But even with your focus divided, Dean could see how loving and careful you were being with Baby.

He couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on you when he saw how passionate you were with both the Impala and the competition. You were muttering to yourself as you worked, and looking up at the screen every once in a while to make sure you didn’t miss anything.

He wasn’t even really paying attention to the screen, or Baby, to be honest. His gaze was focused on you.

You threw your hands up in frustration and shouted at the screen before looking over at him. “You saw that, right? You saw that, I know you did.”

Dean nodded, not really even sure what he was agreeing to. “Yeah, I saw it.”

You huffed out a breath of anger and stood. “I can’t watch this anymore, it’s too much. We’re almost done here, do you want to see if Sam has some food for you?”

Dean looked down in surprise to see that you were indeed almost done with your work. A quick glance at the clock on the wall let him know that the two of you had been working hours.

He looked over at you. “Yeah, sure. We’ve been at it for a while, don’t you get breaks or something?”

You smiled. “Yeah. I’m trying to subtly ask you if I can take my break now.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Yeah, no, of course. Let’s eat, I’m starved.”

He turned away from you, but stopped when he heard you groan again. He looked back to see you bouncing on your toes as you watched the screen.

You made eye contact with Dean. “I’m coming, just give me two seconds.” You looked back at the TV.

Dean shook his head in amusement and walked back over to you, gently placing one hand on your shoulder and using his other hand to grab one of yours. He slowly led you away even as you stared at the screen.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he mumbled.

“It’s just-”

“I know.”

“It’s so stupid, he didn’t even-”

“I know, I’m sorry. Come on.”

“Dean, are you seeing this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. Come on, you can do it, I believe in you.”

He finally led you away from the screen, releasing you as soon as the tension faded from your body.

You laughed in embarrassment. “Sorry about that.”

Dean smiled back. “What’re you sorry for? I get it.”

You grinned, looking down at your feet. “How long are you staying in town for?”

Dean’s heart sped up. So you had definitely caught on to his not-so-subtle flirtations over the last few days. 

You looked up and smiled hopefully. Dean had been nothing but kind and sweet, and you were hoping that he’d at least entertain the idea of the two of you spending more time together. Especially since he’d been hinting at it for a while now.

But as you watched his smile start to fade, you realized that your hopes had only been silly little dreams. Nothing more.

He looked away. “We don’t usually stay in one place for long. We’ll probably be out as soon as Baby’s ready to go.”

You could feel your heart drop down to your feet, but you forced a smile on your lips. “Yeah, that makes sense. Traveling with the wind and all.”

Dean nodded, still not looking you in the eye.

You cleared your throat and nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll get Baby up and running soon. I’m just going to grab some food and I’ll get back to it.”

You turned your back on Dean before he could reply and walked away swiftly. You furiously wiped at your eyes as you felt them well up. 

You didn’t know why you were so upset. Why would Dean put his life on hold for you when you’d only just met? Just because the two of you had some things in common? Or maybe because he had allowed you to be open and vulnerable without judgment. Or maybe because you had seen the way that he was looking at you as you worked, even though he hadn’t seen that you were looking at him the exact same way.

You stopped walking when you knew that you were out of Dean’s sight and leaned against a wall. There was no one like him in your small town, and you doubted you would ever meet anyone like him again. Someone tough but kind, eyes haunted by his past even as he tried to make sure that others didn’t have to suffer the way he did. Someone who made you feel like you had time to take things slow, and let things click into place.

You straightened and took a deep breath. You couldn’t let this affect you. Yeah, it hurt that Dean had led you to believe that you might become something, but when it came down to it, you’d only known each other a few days. No matter how much you liked him, you had to stay focused.

Even if Dean didn’t stay, you had a job to do.

~~~

“She asked you to stay?”

Dean shook his head. “No. No, she didn’t. She asked how long we’re staying for.”

Sam threw his hands up. “Same thing! What’d you tell her?”

“The truth.”

Sam spluttered. “The truth?”

Dean made a face. “Not the whole truth, I’m not insane.”

“You’ve done it before,” Sam pointed out.

“We’re getting off topic. Look, I just told her that we never stay in one place long, and that we were leaving when Baby was ready.”

“Dean,” Sam said in exasperation. “You’ve been flirting with the poor girl for days. Now she probably thinks she did something wrong.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

Sam stayed quiet for a moment. There was nothing that Dean could do to fix this. Not really. Not unless…

Sam sat up straighter. “Okay, listen. Maybe we can stay a bit longer.”

Dean shook his head. “We have a job to do, Sammy.”

“What job, Dean? We don’t have any new leads. Garth hasn’t called, and Cass hasn’t told us that the world is ending again.”

“Yeah, but-”

“We have time, Dean. Take advantage of it.”

Dean shook his head again. “Sammy, listen-”

“No, Dean, for once in your life, you listen to me. I can see the way you look at this girl. Hell, her boss sees it, too. I know our life makes it almost impossible to settle down, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.” “Sammy-”

“Wouldn’t you say the same thing to me if Jess was still around?”

Dean stayed silent. Sam was right, of course. He’d love nothing more than for his brother to be able to settle down peacefully with the love of his life. 

He took a deep breath and looked up at Sam. “Alright, I hear you.” Sam nodded, satisfied. “Good. Now, go get her, tiger.”

~~~

You looked up and smiled as Dean entered your workstation again. 

“We’re almost done. Just a few last tweaks and you’ll be out of here.”

Dean stood across the room from you, his hands in his pockets.

You frowned in concern. “Hey. You okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m alright. But, uh, there’s been a change in plans.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Oh?”

Dean offered you a small smile. “We’re actually going to be staying here a little longer than we thought.”

You could feel your heart speed up in your chest, but tried to squash down your expectations. “Really?”

He nodded. “I still need to give you that ride, don’t I?”

You laughed in relief, allowing the flood of feelings that you’d been pushing back to move forward, front and center. “Yeah, you do. What made you change your mind?”

At that, Dean walked forward until he was standing beside you. “I think you know.”

You smiled. “Maybe. But I’d still like to know.”

Dean grinned and gently patted his Impala. “Well, Baby, of course. I need to be nearby in case you’re not as good as you say you are, so that I can make you pay for damages.”

You laughed. “Fair enough. You want to finish her up with me?”

“Obviously.”

You hummed. “We’re almost done, though. Where are you going to take me?”

Dean shook his head. “It’s a surprise.”

“Not always a great idea to keep a first date destination a surprise,” you said, surprised with your own boldness.

Dean chuckled. “First date, huh?”

You took a step closer to him. “Maybe. Is it?”

Dean lowered his head towards yours. “Absolutely.”

You could feel warmth radiating off of him in waves, allowing yourself to be comforted by his presence as you tilted your head up towards him. 

Before you could even register what was going on, your boss burst into the room. “Hey, I have a guy out here asking for help, are you-”

You buried your face in your hands in embarrassment as Dean stepped back, looking up at the ceiling to hide his flushed cheeks.

Your boss slowly backed away, pulling the door closed behind her. “Sorry about that. Carry on.”

You peered out from behind your hands and looked up at Dean. “Maybe we should save that for our date. You know, just in case my boss decides to walk in again.”

Dean smiled, the warmth in his chest stronger than ever before. “Don’t worry about it. 

We have time.”

A/N: Part 2!

[wandering-winchesters]

Who Did This To You?

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 4,077 (Oops) Summary: Sam and the reader are close friends, Dean on the other hand is kept at a distance. The reader has a boyfriend, who turns out to be abusive. What will happen when Dean finds out? Trigger Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence, bruises and brief mention of blood. Requested: No, just something I thought up. A/N: I am really happy with how this turned out, please let me know what you think. <3

Masterlist

I press the accelerator down further, hot tears brimming in my eyes, frantic to get back to the bunker. Back to safety and Sam. I need to talk to Sam, he always knows how to calm me down. My boyfriend, Chris and I had fought tonight and it had been bad, he had gotten in my face and screamed at me over the smallest thing. I put up with it for almost an hour, before I got up and left. What had started out as utter rage had slowly turned to gut wrenching sobs throughout the long drive home. I pull into the driveway for the bunker, parking next to the Impala and quickly making the walk from the car to the door. I unlock it quickly slipping inside, I kick my boots off at the front door and head to the kitchen hoping to find Sam. Much to my dismay, the face looking back at me is indeed not Sam, but the other Winchester, Dean. He looks up at me, his eyes searching my face and his brows drawing together when he notices my expression and the tears on my cheeks. I sniff, quickly wiping them away but it’s too late, he’s already seen them. 

“Where’s Sam?” I ask, drawing on every ounce of strength within in me to keep my wits about me for a few more minutes. Dean takes his time to answer, taking a sip from the beer he is holding as he studies me carefully. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, waiting anxiously for his reply. 

“He went out for a bit, said he needed to get out of the bunker. Can’t say I blame him.” He says, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily before taking another sip of his beer. I give Dean a short nod and mutter a thanks before turning on my heel, intent upon heading straight to my room but his voice stops me once again. 

“You’ve been crying.” He states, matter-of-factly. I freeze in my tracks, weighing my next options carefully. Why does he care? He’s seen me cry before and it hasn’t exactly made him kinder to me. I square my shoulders and turn around to face him once again, his eyes still locked on me. He looks as if he is carefully analyzing my every move, every breath I take and every word that I speak. He’s leaning against the counter top, one leg bent resting on the cabinet behind him. His arms crossed across his chest, supporting the hand that’s holding his beer. 

“Why do you care?” I ask, my voice a bit more volatile than I initially intended. I am too tired to put effort into being nice to him, a sentiment that he rarely ever gives to me. He is slightly taken aback by my words, a fact made obvious by the way he holds his hands up to the side, shrugging his shoulders slightly. 

“Just thought you might want to talk about it, since Sam isn’t here.” He replies, his tone soft and gentle, something I’d never received from him before. It wasn’t like we were enemies or anything, but he didn’t particularly care for me and I shared the same sentiment about him. We butted heads over everything, he always tried to hold me back on hunts, making me feel incapable and inferior. 

“Ill be fine.” I mutter, moving to walk away once again, and once again he stops me his words cutting through me like a silver knife. 

“Did he hurt you?” He asks, his voice unreadable, but his face screams danger, depending on my answer. I look at him, my eyes searching his face for any explanation of where this was coming from, but he’s impassive other than anger. I don’t trust my voice, so I shake my head no. It wasn’t exactly a lie, he hadn’t physically hurt me, he didn’t need to his verbal threats were enough. 

“I’m just going to go to bed. Thanks anyways.” I say and he nods slightly but he’s not fooled. I turn and actually walk away this time and make it to my room before my tears start to fall again. I sit down on the edge of my bed pulling my phone out of my pocket, intending to send Sam a text, but I am distracted by the multiple messages flooding the screen. Beginning with anger and threats, before changing to apologies and begging for my forgiveness. I toss my phone onto the floor, too tired to deal with the nonsense tonight. The interaction with Dean replays in my head, his kindness strange and cause for reflection. It isn’t as if he was ever a complete asshole to me, but he was never fond of me. I had always been Sam’s friend and Dean just put up with my presence. Neither one of them ever intended for me to start hunting with them, it was a matter of wrong place wrong time. Sam and I had met in college and I went looking for him when he disappeared from classes, the week I found him happened to be when the yellow eyed demon came calling a few years ago, and I had stuck with them ever since. Intent upon learning everything I could about the supernatural. Sam had welcomed me in with open arms and Dean had been dragged along kicking and screaming, metaphorically speaking. Well, mostly metaphorically, he did a lot of yelling. So the concern Dean had for me tonight, was well concerning. It was throwing me for a bit of a loop, curiosity sparking within me. Did he actually care about me and his disdain for me was just a front? No, surely not. I had been with them for three years and this was an utter first. I brush the thoughts aside and close my eyes, hoping that sleep will over take me. Hours later, it finally does. 

I wake to knocking on my door, I yell out a muffled come in, and Sam sticks his head in, his expression apologetic. 

“Hey sorry to wake you, I am about to head out but I wanted to check in on you before I do. Dean said you were upset and looking for me last night, you could’ve called me Y/N, I would have come back earlier.” I had sat up in bed to look at him and he had opened my door the rest of the way. I smiled softly at the tall man standing in front of me, his hair messy and the collar on his flannel offset. 

“Its okay Sammy, you have a good night out?” I ask and he grins sheepishly, nodding his head in response. 

“Yeah, actually, I met a girl at the bar. I am heading back to her place now actually. You doing okay?” He asks me, his smile contagious. I chuckle, shaking my head slightly, but smile back at him. 

“Yeah I am good, go get ‘em tiger.” He laughs at my response, and jogs off down the hallway yelling a see you later over his shoulder. He had forgotten to shut my door behind him, I sigh throwing my blankets to the side and standing up beside my bed. 

I stretch my body, groaning slightly as the tension in my shoulders works it way out. I throw on the jeans I had worn yesterday, before finding a new shirt to wear, I settle on my favorite green tee, a memento from my college years. I pick my phone up from the floor, scanning the mass of texts and calls all from one person. Before sending him a quick message,

8:33 A.M.  I’ll be over shortly, I just woke up. 

I take a deep breath and grab my keys from my dresser and head towards the entry to the bunker. Dean is in the kitchen again, this time making himself breakfast. He gives me a slight smile as I walk past him towards the door. I smile back but keep on my path to my boots, still left haphazardly by the door where I had tossed them last night. “Need breakfast?” Dean calls from the behind me, I look back over my shoulder and see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen, skillet in one hand, towel in the other.

“Not hungry, thanks though. I’ll be back later!” I say, beginning to head out the door to the bunker. I hear him call out something along the lines of ‘be careful’ but I don’t stop to question it, our interaction from last night still weirding me out. 

In hindsight, I should’ve gone back inside this morning. Had breakfast with Dean and ignored Chris’ frenzy of messages. Going over his place this morning was probably the worst idea I have ever had, it hadn’t gone well, worse than I had ever imagined. His messages to me last night and this morning had me convinced that he would apologize for his actions and yet that is the farthest thing from what happened. By the time I had gotten there, he had switched from apologetic to angry again. Instead of his words, he let his fists do the talking. The first time catching me so off guard it knocked me off my feet successfully splitting my lip, the second time I had dodged his blow, stepping out of his reach and yelling at him to keep his hands off of me and trying to leave. But the third. The third landed square on my jaw, knocking me unconscious. 

I had come to from Chris shaking me and crying apologies. His touch sending waves of nausea through me, revolted by the thought of him. Glancing at my reflection in the surface of his coffee table I noticed the rapidly forming bruise. A mark that would serve as a vivid reminder of his actions and my inability of acting like a good, obedient girlfriend. Or so he said, after spending the morning accusing me of cheating on him with Sam. No matter what I said, it wasn’t enough to convince him that we were just friends and he had just lost it on me. I had left in a rush when he went to the bathroom, leaving everything but my phone and my keys behind on his couch. The ache in my body spurring me to move faster out of his place and into the safety of my car. The seconds it took me to get from his living room to the drivers seat, felt like an eternity. I had driven as fast as I dared back to the bunker, checking my rear view mirror constantly watching and waiting for him to appear behind me, but he didn’t. So here I sit, outside the bunker, debating the best way to get into my room without someone noticing the bruises still forming on my face. Not wanting the attention or, more likely the “I told you so’s” from Dean. I grabbed the hat from my passenger seat, tugging it low over my face. I rearrange my hair, framing it around my face in such a way that it covers as much of my jaw as it can. I take a deep breath and exit my vehicle, taking the few steps required into the bunker. 

I shut the door as quietly as I can, taking soft steps towards my room. I hope to make it into the safety and silence of my room without anyone noticing, I am not even sure who is home at this time but I don’t want to see either of them. I had nearly reached the safety of my space, but I head Dean’s door swing open behind me. 

“Y/N, you’re home sooner than I expected. Sam isn’t back yet.” He says and I freeze in my tracks, praying he doesn’t continue the conversation. 

“Okay, thanks!” I say, my voice coming out shrill and unsteady, the opposite of what I was trying to sound like. I hear him move to close his door, but he hesitates and I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. 

“What happened to your jeans? Why is there blood on them?” He asks, and I internally curse myself out for my stupidity. I had wiped my hand across my thigh after wiping the blood off my busted lip. I must have taken too long to give him an answer, because I hear him moving closer to me and I close my eyes waiting for the moment that I had hoped to avoid. “Y/N, look at me.” He says and I can feel him ever so close to me. I turn around, keeping my eyes trained on the ground and my face angled away from him. He reaches out and gently grabs my chin, pulling it towards him so he can see me. I bite my tongue to keep the slight gasp from slipping past, his touch on my bruised jaw causing a ripple of pain to travel throughout my nerves, but he notices and his touch lightens. The opposite of his face, his expression darkens, eyes traveling over my skin. His other hand comes up and pulls my baseball hat off my head, revealing all of the color spreading through my skin, reds and purples mainly at this point in time. 

“Who did this to you?” He growls, not waiting for a response his hand drops to my wrist and tugs me behind him. I follow his lead back towards the kitchen, when we get there he points to the counter muttering one word through his angry stupor, “Sit.” I don’t, but he doesn’t notice immediately, his attention turning to something else. He walks over to the freezer and digs out the ice packs that we kept frozen for any injuries that might surface. 

When he turns around, his eyes are trained on me, a scowl engrained in his features. He sets the icepack down, before he turns to me, grabs my waist and lifts me up onto the countertop. I am caught off guard by his actions, a gasp leaving my lips from his sudden movements. His hands on my hips the most amount of physical touch that has ever been shared between the two of us. 

I train my eyes to the floor, not daring to meet his gaze. He had stepped away again, digging through the cabinets for what I think is the first aid kit. I begin to let my thoughts wander, the dull ache in my jaw pulling me back to the moment that it happened. The pure evil hidden behind his eyes, the look of absolute enjoyment he had as he watched me struggle, his hands rough and violent against my body. But I am snapped back to reality by Dean’s gentle touch, his fingertips gingerly raising my chin to look at him. Tears are beginning to form in my eyes, adrenaline wearing off and emotion taking back over. I take a deep breath, hating the way my lip quivers, still dreading showing weakness to the older Winchester. He notices, he notices all of it, but he doesn’t say anything. He gently wipes away my tears and brings a cold cloth to my lip, cleaning up the cut from the first punch. I can feel anger radiating off of his skin, even though his touch is displaying the complete opposite. 

“Did Chris do this?” He asks, his attention moving from the split in my lip to the gash on my forehead. I hiss as he wipes it clean, an antiseptic wipe pinched between his fingers, he mutters a slight apology, but continues patching me up.

“Yeah, he did. He lost it on me this morning, over nothing. It’s my fault though, I ignored all of his messages after I came home last night, so he was angry.” Dean freezes, his fingers stilling on my skin. I look up at him, confused as to why he stopped and I notice his jaw is clenched so tight that it has to be painful. 

“Don’t ever say those words again, you hear me?” He locks his eyes on mine, fury absolutely radiating off of every inch of his body. “None of this, none, is your fault, you got it?” His words are sharp and pointed, his intent clear. I nod in response, he obviously didn’t want to hear anymore, got it. I would keep my mouth shut. 

He continues patching me up, before he stills, looking me over from head to toe once more. He hands me the ice-pack he had laid out and instructs me to keep it on my jaw. He turns his back to me and washes his hands in the kitchen sink. 

“Where does the fucker live?” He asks, his voice low and so calm that it scares me slightly. 

“Why Dean?” This is when he snaps, the anger that has been coursing through him coming out in one big tsunami of a wave, now that he knows I am okay. 

“Because I am going to go beat the absolute hell out of him, show him a bit of his own medicine.” He says, each word leaving his lips like a bullet leaving a gun. Dangerous and aimed at one specific target. 

I sit quietly, unsure how to respond. 

“Why? I didn’t think you’d care this much, figured-“ 

“Oh for fucks sake!” He interrupts me and I jump from the sheer volume of his voice, he walks back over to me and stands directly in between my knees, he rests his hands on my thighs and his eyes meet my own once again. 

“I have always cared about you Y/N, from that day you showed up at our motel. Your search for Sam finally at an end. I have watched you let men into your life that don’t give two shits about you, I have watched how they treated you and I have hated every single one. None of them deserve you, they are all pitiful excuses for boyfriends. I heard you crying to Sam, each time one of them broke your heart and I had to sit back and not do anything about it. You deserve more than anyone can give you, including myself. Which is why I never said anything, I kept you at a distance. I can’t do that anymore, I can’t keep watching you put yourself into these situations. God, if you hadn’t left, he could have killed you. Probably would have killed you, and then I never would have been able to tell you that I-, that I love you.” He says, his voice growing less angry after each word leaves his mouth. My brain is spinning by the end of his speech, his words swirling around my head making me dizzy. He squeezes my leg gently, causing me to snap back to reality once again. 

I blink at him, once, twice, three times before his words finally settle over me and I am completely speechless. I never saw this coming, I admit I have feelings for him, but I had pushed them so far away because of his hatred for me. 

“Dean, I-I don’t know what to say. I always thought you hated me, so I supressed my feelings for you, I dated other men because I thought you would never want anything to do with me. I’m sorry, that I hurt you. I love you too.” I whisper, my hands coming to rest on top of his. He tugs me towards him, his fingers digging into my hips and sliding me across the counter into his embrace. 

“God, Y/N, I am so sorry he did this to you. He will never lay a finger on you again, I promise.” He says, his voice barely registering because of how quiet he is speaking. I can hear how close he is to tears, but don’t mention it to him. I hug him back and relish the way his touch makes me feel. How safe I am in his presence, every fear melting away. 

I hear the door to the bunker open and Sam calls out a greeting. Dean pulls away from me slightly, but keeps his hand resting on my thigh. 

“In the kitchen Sammy.” He calls out, and gently squeezes my leg in reassurance. 

Sam rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks, his eyes locking on my bruised face and anger quickly replaces the initial shock. 

I look away from him, shame creeping over me. I put myself into the situation and this was the outcome, now both of them are aware of what I got myself into and it is crashing down on me in waves. I hear Dean talking to Sam, explaining everything that had happened. By the end of it, both boys were rearing to go track him down and give him a taste of his own medicine, or worse. Little did we all know, they were about to get their chance and they wouldn’t even have to leave the bunker. 

A knock sounds at the door and Sam trails off mid sentence, glancing between Dean and myself, an obvious attempting at asking if we were expecting someone. Neither of us were, and suddenly it hit me. He’s here, he had followed me. My heart is in my throat, my breathing is heightened and shallow. My eyes meet Deans and he knows exactly what I am thinking. “Stay here, sweetheart. Sam, let’s go.” He says, giving me one last look before the two of them walk out of the room and towards the source of the incessant knocking. I don’t listen however, I slide down off the counter and hurry after them. Not wanting to be left alone and waiting to find out the outcome of this visit. Dean throws open the door to the bunker, immediately grabbing my now ex-boyfriend by the collar of his shirt and pushing him backwards away from the entrance. Sam is quick to step outside next to Dean, the boys creating a wall between me and Chris. Dean withholds the fury of his fist and issues quite a few colorful threats, instilling a healthy fear into Chris. He pulls him up by his shirt again and shoves him towards his car. They stand, watching him leave before turning and heading back into the bunker. Sam is quick to be by my side, pulling me into a hug. Apologies flying from his lips. I reassure him that I am okay, my eyes remaining locked on Dean. Hoping that the moment that we had shared wasn’t a one time thing, dying to once again be in his arms. 

I excuse myself from the two of them, heading to the bathroom to clear my head. I spend a few minutes in there, my hands gripping the edge of the sink. Taking breath, after breath, trying to pull myself together. The whirlwind of a day, completely blindsiding me. I open the door to the bathroom and scan the hallway, empty. I take a chance and cross the hall towards Dean’s room. Knocking on the door and being beckoned in by his voice on the other side of the door. 

I open the door and cross the threshold, closing the door quietly behind me. His eyes are on me immediately and I stare back at him, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. Four words hang heavy in my throat, fear of rejection constricting my voice. I clear my throat and finally utter the words I had been thinking. 

“Did you mean it?” 

“Of course I did, Y/N. I will always mean it.” He whispers, and that is all it takes for me to cross the room and throw my arms around him. He immediately hugs me back, tugging me as close to him as physically possible. His lips press against my forehead, sending shivers down my spine. The warmth his body provides is all consuming and like heaven on earth. A feeling that I had never had before, it was clear that this was where I was meant to be.

“I will always keep you safe Y/N, I promise you that. I love you.” Dean says, his lips brushing against my skin as he speaks. I knew he meant it with all of his heart and that was more than enough for me.