#deanwinchesterxreader

[wandering-winchesters]

A Moment That Changed Everything

Summary: After a brutal hunt, a moment with you leaves Dean feeling vulnerable.

It had been a rough hunt. The kind that left you bone-tired, covered in dirt and blood, and grateful just to be alive. Dean had seen his fair share of hunts like that, more than he could count, but this one had been particularly brutal. A rogue werewolf pack, more vicious than usual, had been tearing through a small town, and it had taken everything they had to put them down.

By the time the last werewolf was dead, Dean was running on fumes. Sam had taken a nasty hit but was still standing, while you—you’d fought like hell, never backing down, even when things looked bad. Dean had seen you take a few hard knocks, and it had worried him, but he knew better than to try and tell you to sit out. You were too stubborn for that, and he respected you for it, even if it made him want to wrap you in bubble wrap sometimes.

After the fight, they’d made their way back to the motel, dragging their tired bodies inside and collapsing onto the worn-out furniture. Sam had headed straight for the shower, leaving Dean alone with you in the small, dimly lit room. The adrenaline was still wearing off, leaving him shaky and wired, his mind replaying the close calls over and over.

Dean glanced over at you, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. You looked as tired as he felt, your shoulders slumped, your face smeared with dirt and blood. But there was something else there, too—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the way you were holding yourself, like you were carrying a weight too heavy for your small frame. Or maybe it was the way your eyes had that faraway look, like you were somewhere else entirely.

He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words got stuck in his throat. What could he say that would make a difference? That they’d survived? That they’d made it through another day? It felt hollow, like an empty victory. But as he stood there, searching for the right words, you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his.

And then you were moving, crossing the small space between you in just a few steps. Before Dean could process what was happening, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

For a split second, Dean froze, his brain trying to catch up with his body. He wasn’t used to this—physical affection, comfort, whatever you wanted to call it. Sure, he’d hugged people before, but it was always brief, a quick, reassuring squeeze before moving on. This was different. This was you, holding onto him like he was something solid, something real.

And that was when it hit him. The full weight of everything they’d been through, everything he’d been holding inside. The fear, the anger, the guilt—it all came rushing to the surface, nearly knocking the breath out of him. But instead of pushing it down, instead of brushing it off like he usually did, Dean let himself feel it. Just for a moment, he let himself lean into you, his arms coming up to wrap around you in return.

You were warm, solid, grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected. He could feel the steady beat of your heart against his chest, the rise and fall of your breath. It was comforting, more comforting than he’d ever admit out loud. Dean closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the embrace, letting himself forget, if only for a moment, about everything outside that small, dimly lit room.

The hug lasted longer than it probably should have, but neither of you seemed in any hurry to pull away. And honestly, Dean didn’t want to. There was something about being in your arms that made him feel… safe. It was a strange feeling, one he wasn’t used to, but it wasn’t unwelcome. It was like for the first time in a long time, he could just be Dean—not the hunter, not the protector, just Dean.

When you finally did pull away, it was slow, reluctant, like neither of you really wanted to break the connection. But eventually, you did, taking a small step back, your eyes searching his for… something. Dean wasn’t sure what, but he could see the question there, the unspoken need for reassurance.

He offered you a small, crooked smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes but was real all the same. “We’re okay,” he said softly, the words feeling inadequate but true nonetheless.

You nodded, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other. There was something different between you now, something that hadn’t been there before. The air felt charged, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid. Dean could feel it in his chest, a strange, fluttering sensation that he wasn’t sure how to deal with.

But instead of overthinking it, instead of trying to analyze what it all meant, Dean did what he always did. He pushed it down, locked it away in that little box in his mind where he kept all the things he didn’t know how to handle. But even as he did, he knew this was different. This wasn’t something he could just ignore and hope it went away. This was you, and that changed everything.

Dean cleared his throat, glancing away as if breaking eye contact would somehow break the spell. “You should get cleaned up,” he said, his voice gruffer than he intended. “Get some rest.”

You nodded again, but before you turned away, you reached out, squeezing his arm. It was a brief touch, but it was enough to send that strange, fluttering sensation racing through him again. And then you were gone, heading toward the bathroom, leaving Dean standing there, alone with his thoughts.

As the sound of the shower filled the small motel room, Dean sank down onto the bed, running a hand through his hair. He let out a long breath, the events of the night finally catching up to him. But even as the exhaustion pulled at him, all he could think about was you—how it had felt to hold you, to be held by you.

It left him with a feeling he couldn’t quite shake, something warm and unsettling all at once. Dean wasn’t sure what it meant, wasn’t sure he was ready to figure it out. But he knew one thing for certain: that hug had changed something inside him. It had cracked open a part of him he’d kept locked away for so long, a part he hadn’t even realized was there anymore.

And now, as he sat there in the quiet room, he couldn’t help but wonder what came next. Because if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he couldn’t go back to the way things were before. Not after that. Not after you.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester @whump-loverz @mishreem

[hauntedwitch04]

Hero

Dean Winchester x reader

Words: about 1.6k words

Warnings: smut, possessive!Dean, swearing, kinda voyeurism, male reciving, not proofreaded

Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, tbt not my best work but I hope you like it, your witch Becky

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 12: Tit-fucking

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Dean had seen Hell, but no torture could match this moment for him.

You went out as usual to celebrate yet another hunt that saw you return home victorious to some seedy bar nearby. None of you, Dean, and Sam had dressed up for the occasion, indeed looking like an ordinary Friday night, but for certain the elder Winchester knew he was going to have quite a bit of trouble when he saw you leave the room a few hours earlier. You were wearing a simple tank top under the usual shirt that is now in common use among hunters, almost in recognition of each other, but that 'outfit so unreasoned was capable of making poor Dean take trips far beyond the pure and chaste thoughts a friend should have about you.

Sam is sitting at the bar sipping his beer while talking to a very pretty girl; you, on the other hand, probably caught up in the alcohol a bit, are having a good time, dancing along with a couple of girls you met earlier while getting drinks, and Dean can't help but stand there watching you ecstatically. Hunter watches you move your body to the music, as your form brushes against the bodies of the other girls, and he can't help but think if it wasn't his body that yours is moving next to.

He dreamed of being able to touch your breasts, caress them and love them, before starting to bite and suck them so as to leave obvious marks, and let everyone see that they were only his, that you were only his; he dreamed of seeing your tits jump at the same rhythm with which he would fuck you, hard and mercilessly; he dreamed of falling asleep on your chest, listening to your heartbeat, and of finding you there when he would wake up because of yet another nightmare.

Too lost in the far corners of his mind, imagining you under him while he tortures your nipples with his mouth, he does not notice that you are approaching him quickly and with fear in your eyes.

As soon as you touch his arm, with a gentle touch, he awakens from that daydream and stares at you, not understanding this sudden change of emotions on your part.

"Hold your ground." She whispers in his ear, before changing expression again and smiling at him with a sweetness that Dean feels melt over the chair in that provincial bar as if he were standing before the goddess of beauty herself.

"Love I finally found you! I couldn't see you anymore and I got worried, luckily this gentleman accompanied me." You say in a squeaky voice, as you point to the man just behind you, who looks at you as if you were nothing more than a piece of meat, who lays his gaze on the hunter once you tighten around his arm with a look mixed between anger and resignation, ready to move on to the next victim.

Dean immediately understands the situation and feels a sudden rage invade his body, in the need to protect you and affirm to the other man that you are not merely a doll good for satisfying his desires, but that you are his to preserve and love, even if the contact of your chest with his arm is enough to short-circuit his brain for a few seconds.

He feels your breasts against his elbow, your skins touching, and for a moment he is sure he would have come in his pants if it were not for the threat in front of you.

"Good thing he was there baby, I was starting to worry." Dean says as he gets up from where he's sitting and moves his arm that you're holding tightly, behind you, to hold you against his chest, to make you feel safer even though selfishly he can't complain about feeling your chest pressed against his. He knows perfectly well that if he looked into your eyes, he would see everything he wants from your cleavage, but after all, he is still a gentleman and this is not the time.

"Well buddy, since I'm so nice to bring your lady back to you, you might thank me by letting me take a ride with her, don't be-" The man begins to say with a grin on his face, before being interrupted by Dean's fist making contact with your face. You look shocked at the hunter, who in response holds you even tighter to him, while gesturing to his brother that he would take you out, or rather to the motel, since Sam was more than busy minding his own business anyway.

Once outside you find yourself in the parking lot, get into the car and start driving. You stand silently beside the man watching him grip the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. At some point without explanation Dean pulls over and gets out of the car, walking over to the first tree and starts punching it. You immediately get out and stand between him and the poor unfortunate object on whom the hunter has decided to unload his anger by grabbing his wrists.

"Hey, it's okay, you can relax now." You whisper, trying to reassure Dean, who shakes his head.

"You don't know how much willpower I'm using right now not to drive the car back and hit that son of a bitch so hard that I would send him straight to Crowley with a one-way ticket." He comments, as he closes his eyes and prays to any listening deity to give him the strength not to kiss you right now, and ruin your whole friendship.

"Hey I know, but we're here now, he's not our problem anymore." You retort, wrapping your arms around his waist, trying to appease his ire with a hug, but he jumps back at feeling your chest make contact with his again, knowing you would surely feel his erection pressing against your belly.

"I can't even touch you now? What is it with you that that man touched me?" You ask shocked, as you see him shaking his head vehemently.

"No, it's not that. It's just that if you touch me-" He pauses for a moment, to swallow and look you in the eye, and then within a second blow all plans not to ruin your friendship and pounce on your lips like a hungry man. You let him take full control of the kiss, letting you press against the tree as his lips from yours move down your neck, to your shoulder. "-I don't know if I can control myself." He finishes, returning to look into your eyes.

"Who said I want you to control yourself?" You counter, only to kiss him in turn, then kneel before him, unfastening his pants.

"Baby, we can't here, someone might see us." He comments, as he watches you lower his boxers and take his member, already stiff, in your hands before leaving a couple of kisses on the tip.

"Then we'd better hurry up." You retort, winking at him as you begin to move your hand back and forth on his cock, eliciting moans of pleasure from him. You continue this for a few minutes, until you are satisfied with your work, and you lower your tank top slightly so that your breasts come out.

Dean's eyes widen as he sees you rest his member between your breasts and for a moment that this is yet another beautiful dream from which he will wake up as usual with the most painful erection of his life. Instead he feels the soft skin of your chest in contact with that of his member and realizes that it is all real, in fact for a moment it feels like he is going to orgasm right away as he tries to hold back. You squeeze his member between your breasts and he begins to move back and forth creating a friction that Dean would not know whether to describe as hellish or angelic.

After a few minutes managing to find some sort of inner balance to avoid coming right away, Dean finally opens his eyes, to see you looking at him with a satisfied smirk as your hands resting on your breasts squeeze them, causing him to curse.

"Baby, you're going to kill me like this. How did you know my greatest weakness?" He comments, gritting his teeth as he hears you giggle.

"You were never very good at hiding that you were looking at my tits Dean, and this seems to me the best way to thank you for always being my hero in shining armor." You respond as you feel him coming closer and closer to orgasm, so you squeeze his cock even tighter between your tits and increase the speed until he comes releasing all his seed onto your breasts. You stay still for a moment, until you bring a finger to catch some of the cum that was on your chest, and bring it to your mouth, to taste it. Dean that sight almost picks you up, leading you back to the car, opening, however, not the driver's door, but the back seat.

"But how, I thought someone would see us here?" You tease him as he throws you on the seat, and he lies on top of you, kissing you fiercely.

"Let them watch, what is certain is that I will not spend another second of my life without knowing how you groan my name as I fuck you so hard that you forget yours as well."

What can I say, this night certainly promises to be fun.

TAGLIST

@river-rat69 @ladysparkles78 @samanddeansannoyingsis @ash04w3 @l3viathanpup @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @that1nerd20 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @hi-my-name-is-riley @shodowbane09 @supernatural-lvr @imaraccoon @shhdontlookk @justawinchesterwhore @deansbbyx @xbugsyx @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @afcnds @biahz1

[haileygarciasunshine]

Old Flames and New Battles Pairing: Established!Bucky Banes x Reader Mentions: Ex!Dean Winchester x Ex!Reader l Platonic!Sam Winchester x Reader Word Count: 480 Warnings: None Summary: An old flame shows up at the Avengers Compound asking for help.

The familiar rumbler of the impala echoed through the underground garage of the Avengers compound. You felt your stomach twist— not th fear, but with the weight of old history. You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve seen Sam and Dean since you had traded salt lines and holy water in for vibranium shields and super-soldiers.

Knowing that when the hunters show up at your door, it’s never for a social visit.By the time the elevator doors opened, you were waiting in the hallway with your arms crossed along your chest. Your eyes meeting the once familiar green ones. His usual cocky smirk faltering for just a second before he recovered. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our runaway hunter turned superhero.” Dean taunted. He stuffed his hands into his pockets “Miss us?”

Sam shot him a look of annoyance before turning to face you. “We need your help. Something big. And Weird. Even for us.”

You motioned for them to follow, leading them to the compounds living room. The moment you stepped into the common area, you felt Bucky’s presence behind you, before you even saw him. He had a way of knowing when you were in a situation he might need to back you up on.

Dean’s jaw tightened at the sight of Bucky towering behind you. He glared at Bucky’s hands on your waist. His vibranium arm slightly catching the glint of light. Bucky’s blue eyes filled with sharp curiousity.

“Winchesters,” Bucky greets in a gruff tone.

Dean’s gaze continued to stay on Bucky’s hands. You saw the muscled in his jaw tick.

“Barnes.” Dean greeted, his voice tight. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “You always did have a thing or the brooding types.”

Bucky let out a warning growl as he clenched his teeth together, glaring at Dean.

You sighed rolling your eyes, while lifting your hands to rub your temples. “Not now, Dean.” Your tone sharp and precise.

Sam cleared his throat, visably uncomfortable with the lingering tension in the air. “We’re dealing with something we’ve never seen before. Something that’s taking out hunters, and fast. And, well…. We figured if anyone would have experience with weird, it’d be the Avengers.”

You exchanged a knowing glance with Bucky, who gave a small nod.

“Alright,” You say while crossing your arms along your chest. “Let’s hear it.”

As Sam began explaining, you could feel the weight of Dean’s gaze lingering on you. It went unsaid that he was jealous of the life you had built with Bucky without him.

The unspoken truth hung between you. The hunt came first. It always did.

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[taylortots-world]

Come A Little Closer

Summary: You and Dean spent hours in bed. Not for the reason you may think. Research. Open books and scattered papers. You can visibly see how exhausted Dean is. So, you decide to give him a hand.

Warnings: 18+, minors dni!, smut, handjob,

A/N: Enjoy! Reblogs and likes mean the world to me :) Feel free to leave me requests! I know this isn't my best work </3 I'm also currently working on part two of "On The Clock."

12:43AM. Dean and I have been at this for six hours. Research for a single case. I was sitting against the headboard, laptop resting on my blanket covered thighs. Dean was originally resting against the headboard, now he's fully laid down with an open book resting against his chest.

I glanced down at him, grinning. "Are you just going to lay there?" He rolled his head to the side, looking at me with a tired green stare. “Yes in fact I am. We’ve been at this for hours, I think I’ve fried my brain.” He groaned, tossing his book to the foot of the bed. I softly laughed and tossed my own book aside, still looking down at him. “Just try and relax. We’ll call it a night and pick it up in the morning.” I slightly shifted under the blankets, attempting to adjust my partially numb legs.

Dean slightly shifted, planting his hand on my thigh. My eyes flicked to his hand. Watching as he slowly rubbed up and down my thigh. I turned to look at him again, just to find him already staring at me. Those tired green eyes quickly turned into fuck me eyes. “What?” I asked with a slight smirk. “You know what. C’mon.” He slightly tilted his head down, his gaze still piercing my soul.

“Two can play that game Winchester.” My smirk remained wide and devious as my left hand found his thigh, slowly inching more and more towards his crotch. I lowered my face to his, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. His natural musk filling my senses. “Just relax.” I whispered, our faces still inches apart. His hot breath fanning against the crook of my neck, sending a series of shivers and goosebumps down my body.

Without breaking eye contact, my hand slowly slid past the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. His breathing slightly hitched as I began to palm his cock through his boxers, feeling him grow under my touch. "You're such a fucking tease." He groaned, letting his head hit the pillow. Dean was right, I am a fucking tease.

When we first started dating, I never intentionally teased him. I just slowly began to pick up on the little things I did, that drove him crazy. Wearing oversized shirts with only a thong underneath. The way my cleavage pops when I'm doing research at one of the library tables.

"Y/N- please." He begged. Oh god, he was begging. My core beginning to clench around nothing. My eyes met his, before flicking back down to his growing erection. I could feel my panties getting damper with every touch and twitch of his cock. He lifted his ass off the bed as he helped me slide his bottoms down to his ankles. His rock hard cock now on display, glistening with precum.

I slightly shifted my legs, squeezing them tightly together in an attempt to create any sort of friction. I could've sworn Dean's eyes darkened. He looked at me with lust filled eyed. A blush dancing across his freckled skin. Not wanting to make him wait any longer, I licked a broad stripe from the bottom of my palm to my finger tips. The vein in his cock pulsated as he watched this.

I quickly took ahold of his cock, slowly beginning to pump him in my fist. It felt like I was on fire. My core continuing to clench and throb, my nipples pebbling beneath my tank top. I watched his face closely as I continued to jerk him off, my hand moving a little faster now. His face was genuinely one of my favorite sights, especially during sex. The way his jaw goes slack, his lips forming an 'O'. His brows furrowed in pleasure, a series of moans and profanities rolling off his tongue. Fuck. It drives me up the walls- he drives me up the walls, in the best way possible.

I shifted a little closer to his cock on the bed, now using both my hands to pump him. My left hand continued to work his cock while my right hand snaked down between his legs to gently massage his balls, earning a moan from him. No guy would ever admit it, but it feels fucking amazing when you play with their balls.

"Fuck I'm gonna come," Dean moaned out as his eyes squeezed shut. His hips gently thrusting up into my hand as hot spurts of come landed on my hands and his stomach. I looked at him, waiting for him to open his eyes. Once he opened his eyes, he looked at me. "You continue to amaze me." He said in a breathless tone, still trying to recoup himself after his orgasm. I leaned back and snatched up a wad of tissues from the box that sat atop the nightstand. Carefully, I began to clean up my hands and his cock before laying down beside him.

[burntsecrets]

A Hunter’s Guide to Holiday Care

Pairing: Dean Winchester and Reader

Word Count: 1589

Prompt: @fluff-cember Day 2: winter flu

Summary: Dean takes care of you during flu season.

Warnings: Flu symptoms, depiction of illness and physical discomfort, mild language, references to coughing fits and physical weakness, mention of medical care (cold medicine), light humor about illness, emotional vulnerability, caretaking dynamic, intimacy through hand-holding and close proximity

You wake up in a haze, disoriented and sticky with sweat, your head pounding like a drum. Every inch of your body feels weighted like you’ve been cemented to the mattress. The air in the bunker feels too cold, even with the hum of the heating vents overhead, and you burrow deeper under the flannel blanket someone must have thrown over you while you were out. Flu. The nasty, relentless kind.

Your throat is raw, your nose is an embarrassing mix of stuffed and running, and every time you cough, it feels like your ribs are trying to punch their way out of your chest. Perfect. You groan, shifting slightly, only to hear the door creak open.

Dean strides in, carrying a steaming mug in one hand and a bottle of cold medicine in the other. His green eyes scan you critically, but there’s no mocking smirk, no sarcastic comment. He’s wearing his usual uniform of jeans and a faded black T-shirt, but his hair is a little mussed, and there’s a subtle droop in his posture, like he’s been pacing or running errands you don’t remember asking for.

“Well, you’re alive,” he says, his voice a blend of dry humor and something softer. “Barely. Look like crap, though.”

“Feel worse,” you croak, voice barely above a whisper. It’s hard to say more; even talking feels like a monumental effort.

Dean chuckles low, shaking his head as he places the mug on the nightstand and sets the cold medicine beside it. “Yeah, figured. Got your meds, some soup—don’t ask what’s in it; just eat it—and, uh, entertainment.” He gestures vaguely toward the TV on the dresser. You glance over to see a cheesy Christmas movie already queued up. Twinkling lights, fake snow, and actors way too cheerful for your current state fill the screen.

“Is that Holiday in Handcuffs?” you ask, voice barely audible.

Dean shrugs nonchalantly, but you can see the faint flush creeping up his neck. “I remember you said once it was your favorite holiday movie. Figured it couldn’t hurt. Not like you’re watching Die Hard in this condition.”

You let out a weak laugh that quickly dissolves into a coughing fit. Dean’s immediately at your side, placing a steadying hand on your back as you double over. His palm is broad and warm, the pressure grounding you until the coughing subsides.

“Jesus, take it easy,” he mutters, his tone gruff but not unkind. He pulls a box of tissues closer and thrusts them into your hand. “You hack up a lung, and I’m not cleaning it up.”

You wipe your nose and sink back into the pillows, utterly spent. Dean unscrews the cap on the cold medicine, his expression twisting in irritation as it resists. “Stupid thing,” he grumbles, shaking it like the lid might magically pop off. Finally, with a satisfying click, he hands it over, careful not to spill.

“Bottoms up,” he says, watching you like a hawk. You grimace as the thick, syrupy liquid slides down your throat, and Dean snorts. “What, too fancy for cherry flavor?”

“It’s awful,” you manage, wincing.

“You’ll live,” he retorts, grabbing the mug of soup and placing it in your hands. The steam rises in delicate swirls, but when you take a sip, the taste is... underwhelming. It’s warm, sure, but there’s no seasoning, no flavor beyond the faint hint of chicken broth.

Dean notices your hesitation and narrows his eyes. “Don’t even start. I followed the recipe. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” you rasp.

“Okay, so I skipped the part with the spices. Sue me,” he says, crossing his arms defensively. “Not like I keep a spice rack in Baby’s trunk.”

Despite everything, you smile. The soup isn’t great, but it’s warm, and it’s Dean. He could’ve left you to fend for yourself, but instead, he’s here, fumbling his way through what has to be his least favorite role—caretaker.

As the afternoon drags on, Dean refuses to leave your side for long. He keeps himself busy, fussing with blankets, refilling your mug with tea, and grumbling every time you so much as sniffle. When you return from the bathroom, you find Dean, perched on the edge of the bed, stabs at his phone with one finger, muttering something about "Christmas movies" and "Sam's stupid suggestions."

“What are you doing?” you croak, your voice rougher than gravel.

He barely glances up. “Finding something less... sparkly. Seriously, how does anyone enjoy this crap?” he mutters, flipping through the options. “Where’s the explosions? The car chases? It’s all snowflakes and—oh, look, another goddamn mistletoe scene.”

He makes a dramatic gagging noise as another cheesy romantic gesture plays out on the screen. “This is a no-chick-flick zone, remember? Rule number one.”

You muster a weak smile, though it quickly turns into a cough. Dean tosses the phone aside and hands you a tissue like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand brushes yours for a moment, warm and steady, and you catch a flicker of something in his eyes. Maybe concern, maybe embarrassment—hard to tell with Dean.

“Is that why you’re still here?” you rasp, dabbing at your nose. “Cause this feels suspiciously chick-flicky to me.”

Dean snorts, crossing his arms over his chest like he’s defending himself from the accusation. “Look, you’re sick. Can’t have you wandering around half-dead infecting everybody else—especially me. This is survival, not sentiment.”

“Uh-huh,” you murmur, raising an eyebrow. “So it’s not because you secretly enjoy the sappy holiday romance?”

His jaw tightens, and he glares at the screen as if it personally insulted him. “Okay, first of all, no. Second, I’m not staying here ‘cause of the movie. I’m staying ‘cause someone’s gotta make sure you don’t die from lack of fluids.”

You laugh weakly, though it fades into another cough. Dean sighs, running a hand down his face. “Fine,” he mutters, leaning back against the headboard. “Maybe I’m breaking my own rule. But don’t get used to it, okay? This is a one-time deal. You’re sick. That’s the only reason I’m letting this slide.”

Your smile softens as you glance at him, his arms crossed, boots propped on the bed frame, a grumble on his lips but undeniable warmth in his eyes. “Thanks, Dean,” you whisper.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “Just don’t tell Sam. He’ll never let me live it down.” 

Hours later, as the sky outside darkens, Dean’s still there. He’s stretched out in the chair beside your bed, his legs sprawled out and boots resting against the edge of the mattress. The TV flickers in the dim light, a cheesy Christmas movie filling the room with soft chatter, though it’s clear his focus isn’t on the screen. His gaze keeps drifting toward you every time you shift or let out a quiet cough, his features softening just slightly in that way he’d never admit to.

“You’re not half bad at this,” you murmur, your voice raspier than usual, the words barely audible over the sound of the TV.

Dean’s head snaps toward you, eyebrows lifting in mild surprise. He snorts, leaning forward and planting his elbows on his knees. “Don’t get used to it,” he says, the usual edge in his tone softened by something warmer. “I’m not about to start knitting you sweaters or reading bedtime stories.”

“Shame,” you manage, offering him a faint smile. “You rock the whole ‘caretaker’ vibe.”

He rolls his eyes, shifting in the chair like he’s trying to get comfortable but failing miserably. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, Chuckles,” he mutters, though the corner of his mouth twitches, betraying the grin he’s trying to suppress. “Next time you get sick, I’m calling Cas. Let him deal with the mucus and misery.”

Your weak laugh quickly morphs into a cough, and Dean is on his feet before you’ve even finished, hovering with an uneasy blend of concern and awkwardness. He rubs the back of his neck, muttering something about getting you more water, but instead, he pulls the chair closer to the bed, then changes his mind again and sinks onto the edge of the mattress.

“You’re gonna break that damn chair if you keep flopping around in it,” you tease weakly, watching as he settles beside you. His presence feels grounding, steady, even if he pretends not to notice the way you relax as he leans back against the headboard.

“Flopping? You’re delirious,” he shoots back, though he doesn’t move to leave. Instead, he stretches his legs out, crossing his ankles and resting one arm along the back of the bed frame like he belongs there. “This doesn’t mean I’m staying,” he adds after a beat. “I’m just... making sure you don’t roll over and die in your sleep or something.”

You don’t call him out on the obvious lie. Instead, you let your hand rest on the edge of the blanket, and after a long moment of silence, you feel the weight of his hand brush against yours. It’s tentative, uncharacteristically soft, and when he doesn’t pull away, neither do you.

The bunker grows quieter as the night stretches on, the low hum of the TV blending with the sound of your slowed breathing. You drift off, comforted not just by the warmth of his hand but by the steady, undeniable presence of Dean Winchester at your side. And as sleep claims you, you know that badass reputation or not, Dean is more than capable of caring for the people he loves. Right now, that person is you.

@spnfanficpond @fluff-cember

[novafics]

l Patching Up l

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Talk of death.

Summary: Patching up

Word Count: 445

Masterlist

---

Waiting for the boys to get back was always nerve wracking, you would always tag along to the hunts with Sam and Dean, you being more there for the info you know rather than to help physically with the hunt but that is the way you prefer it, you feel like an important part of the team while also being kept safe back at the motel, something that Dean really liked about this whole arrangement. When you first got together 2 years ago his biggest fear was that you were going to get hurt or even worse that he could lose you altogether, but you being in the motel gave him peace of mind.

Whenever the boys left to catch whatever they were hunting always left you on edge, you frequently had nightmares about Sam coming back alone and having to break the news to you that Dean was gone, always leaving you waking up heaving for breath and reaching for Dean who was always there to quell the fear racing through you.

You were currently curled up in your and Deans shared bed waiting for the two to return. To help with your nerves you were dressed head to toe in Deans clothes, the lingering smell of his cologne helping you immensely. 

You weren't lying there for long before both boys returned, Dean looking a little worse for wear but not as bad as you had seen him in the past. Noting that both boys were fine and that the hunt was in fact over you released a breath you didn't even know you were holding knowing now that you or Dean were not in danger and everyone was safe and ok. 

“Come on you, let's get you cleaned up” you announced to Dean practically dragging him into the bathroom with you so that you could clean him up. “Yes ma’am” he replied with a grin on his face, you cleaning him up quickly became his favourite part of every hunt, you taking care of him was always something that brought joy to Dean knowing he always had this much love to come back to.

After sitting him down and cleaning up every cut and scrape he had accumulated you noticed how dirty his clothes actually were. “Take these off and i'll get you some clean ones baby” you told him “if you wanted me naked darling all you had to do was ask '' he replied to you with the biggest grin on his face pulling his shirt from his body. That had you smiling without even thinking. You loved this man, Dirty mind and all, and you wouldn't change anything for the world.

[jess-writes-things]

Nightmares and Daydreams

Author's Note: This is a quick idea I had from a sudden urge to write, it is coming straight from my noggin and I am a little rusty, I haven't written anything in about two years. I'm making this as a y/n, I will be using myself for reference but feel free to insert yourself in place as you read

Trigger Warnings: death, maybe hints to innuendo, mentions of SA, mentions of PTSD; undiagnosed but obvious, nightmares, trauma, health issues, fluffiness, big age gap between Dean and y/n but both are legal consenting adults, etc etc (like I said, straight from my head)

Summary: (this is after the finale and after The Winchesters) Dean Winchester thought he had died after the vampire incident and gone to Heaven, found a universe he could save; turns out that was only partially true. (Imagine Sam and Dean as old men in this gif)

"Dean, Dean, calm down! Please....please calm down!"

"Calm down!? Calm down Sammy!? Are you friggin' kidding me!? How the Hell am I supposed to calm down!?"

"I...I don't know Dean! Just-.....please, she's upstairs and she's been having trouble sleeping"

That sentence was enough to do exactly that, calm Dean down, at least for a moment. "Okay-," he wipes his face while he paces after he had just knocked everything off of the table in a fit of, well he didn't know, rage, confusion maybe. "Tell me everything again? Start with, so I didn't die, I wasn't impaled by some inbred vamps, I didn't go to Heaven. My heaven, anyway. That didn't happen? That was all a dream? While I was there, I searched other universes and and I found one, and I found mom and dad before we were born and I saved 'em Sam! I saved all of them....did any of that happen?"

"Well you were impaled, because of the vampires, that happened, I thought I lost you...well you were in a coma for, a very long time-," Sam swallows a hard lump in his throat. "You were in the coma for fifteen years Dean (this is fiction lol), everyone, the doctors, my wife, mom, they all told me to let you go but I couldn't Dean....I couldn't pull the plug, I couldn't do it...."

Dean takes a long moment to respond, with so many things rushing through his head, "so....it was all....a dream? Wait, your wife? Sammy, why? Why didn't you let me go? I-You were there!!"

Sam quickly brings a finger to his lips to shush Dean, "please keep it down.....I don't know..."

"You were there, you had grown old and your kid, your son, he was a man...."

"Maybe you heard his voice, he's almost fifteen and he comes to see you all the time. They both know all about you. His name is D-"

"Dean....yeah, I know....," Dean smiles and with nothing else said the brothers bring themselves in by their heads for the longest hug they had ever had, "well, story checks out...you are an old man," Dean chuckles next to his brother's ear. "Yeah, just turned 52," Sam laughs as they let each other go

"So, wife, son, you did make it to old age," Dean smirks, "pick it fence, good ole' djinn dream huh? And I.....I have a daughter?"

Sam nods, "she's just a little older than Dean Jr..."

"Sammy.....how? I don't...."

"Her mother was named Y/N....," Sam knew it may take Dean time, "you weren't really together, officially....."

"Y/N," Dean was trying his damnedest to remember, "Y/N....when you said she had trouble sleeping it-something told me to let her...but why? I don't remember-what's her name?"

"Rhiannon, she's beautiful Dean and she is an amazing girl. She's smart, loves to read, she's already thinking about college and things are looking good," Sam tells him proudly and both of their faces are slowly covered with big toothy smiles

"Yeah? 'Course she is, Rhiannon,huh? Fleetwood Mac," he smirks, "I've missed everything .....," Dean has to take a seat

"Dean, don't start doing that.....she must have left that down here," Sam reaches over in front of Dean to grab the book from the table.

"May I see it?" "yeah, yeah, sure," Sam passes the book to Dean who lets his rough finger tips graze over the cover which says Bridgerton: Romancing Mr Bridgerton, he lets his fingers drift to the top of the book where a white and floral ribbon is marking a page. His brows furrow and he blinks down at it

"Why is she not sleeping?" He moves his eyes back to look up at his brother

"I need you to hand me the book first because if it's ruined I'm a dead man," Sam says and chuckles nervously, which obviously sparks suspicion on his brothers face.

"Sam, why is she not sleeping?"

"Honestly, I don't know.....Dean and I protect her and look after her but something must have happened, we let her go on a date alone for the first time a few weeks ago and she hasn't been sleeping well since but as hard as we ask, she won't tell us if anything did"

Dean's nose begins to flare and his eyes go dark with where his mind wanders to, "I want to talk to her-," he stands and shoves his way past Sam who rushes up the stairs after him

"Just wait-let me tell her you're here...," Sam pleads and Dean nods in agreement, that was reasonable. Sam knocks with his knuckles and there isn't a call of approval from his niece so he waits and tries again, while holding his brother back.

"C-Come in," the voice is barely audible, Sam slowly opens the door a smidge and steps in after gesturing for Dean to wait and take deep breaths to calm down as if he were flying, "Hi Sweetheart, you okay?" "Just another one....," she nods. "Rhi, please, tell me what happened?" A moment of silence passes, causing much anxiety to Dean outside of the door. "Alright well, there's some big news....your dad....he woke up and he's back....he's outside of the door, he wants to speak with you...." "Okay," Sam steps out and let's Dean come in

Dean didn't know if it were possible for him to be anymore nervous or slow, but, he did know the moment he laid eyes on the girl sitting up in the bed exactly who you were. It all rushed back to him. You, Y/N, you were the one. He also knew why he felt the need to let her rest, and why his mind immediately jumped to the conclusion it had when Sam said what he did. He does his best to make himself smile and he can feel it quiver, he waves, spots a chair at a desk and sits against the wall. He tries to say hello but she beats him to the punch.

"Hi, it's nice to finally meet you," she gives him a genuine smile, your eyes twinkled at him from the moonlight coming in the window

"Hi....," he feels a bit of ease, "you....left your mom's book downstairs," he says showing her, still holding it. "Thanks," she giggles, "that's one of my favorites"

"Yeah? It was one of hers too, it was weird though....you used to hyper fixate on certain genres, uhm," he clears his throat, "Post apocalyptic dystopian society, specifically the Hunger Games, she really liked that one, and this one called Humans, Bow Down where there were these robot people and she liked fantasy, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, things like that. So.....this one....I remember when she couldn't put it down...."

"Yeah? She didn't like romance?"

"Not particularly," he laughs a little, "I think she liked the drama in this one, and she liked the characters, she said most romance books she couldn't read with a straight face because the....parts-nevermind, she thought the....wording was funny"

She laughs, "don't worry, I already know all of that stuff. I haven't done any of it, don't freak," she laughs, he breathes in relief, "oh thank Jack," he laughs.

"You......you are....so beautiful and you look so much like her, I saw you and everything came back," he admits

"Yeah? What do you remember?" She scoots over and taps next to her, "come sit, I can't sleep"

"Yeah....," he slowly comes over to sit next to her, "we need to talk about that...."

"Tell me what you remember?"

"Don't do that, don't try to avoid the subject, shit you are our kid....,tell you what, I'll tell you if you tell me," he looks at her

"......Fine....," she agrees reluctantly

"Okay," Dean leans his back to sit up against the head board and drifts into his memories of Y/N. "Well, we weren't officially a couple....and hey, I'm sorry I've missed everything..."

"There's no need to be, couldn't be helped, you were in a coma and she was dead," she shrugs and leans back as well.

"She's dead?" Rhiannon simply nods, "when I was born," she says casually

"Damn it, I'm so sorry, I should have known better with her health....I didn't know she was-" "It's alright, I've had a safe, happy life filled love and all the mushy shit with Uncle Sam and Auntie and Jr"

".........One of the last times I saw her.....we would sneak away and spend nights together.....well, I woke up one morning and went to see her because she was near where we were and when I walked into the motel room, I remembered she smelled so good. She had just gotten out of a shower, her hair was still dripping wet and she had put in this hair stuff she used, I think it was for frizz, but it smelled so good it was Garnier, and it left her hair in loose curls while it was wet. It was draped over her shoulders-"

-Flashback-

"Dean? That you?" You ask, hearing the door open to your room.

"Yeah," he comes over smiling and crawls up onto the bed, placing a soft kiss to your lips with his plump soft lips. "What're you doing?" He asks, laying beside you, wrapping a arm over you. "Wait, Y/N, baby, what the Hell are you listening to?" He asks, a look of equal parts confusion what could possibly be disgust, you weren't quite sure but had to laugh because it was so cute. "You smell so good~," he buries his nose in your hair and neck.

"Thankyou, and I'm reading," you had Harry Potter in your hand and there was another book by your feet. "Ahuh, and what are you listening t-is that Paint It-is that ACDC? Not that I'm not so proud of you in this moment Princess, but, you hate ACDC"

You roll your eyes, "I never said I hated them, I said they only have a few songs and all of those are just one song they change the words too, still they're good. This is the Wednesday Addams cover from the show, it's perfect ambience for this part of the book"

"Okay, what?" He blinks and shakes his head in confusion, "I think this is the age gap again, how did I get a smoking hot, super smart, 26 year old?"

You smile and peck his lips, "because you're perfect and I have both mommy and daddy issues. This song is perfect because the fat lady was just scared out of her painting by Sirius Black and they can't find her"

"I'm just going to smell you now," he buries his nose again and takes big whiffs as if your scent is oxygen and runs his fingers along your skin on your arm and your new satin pink pajama set, a tank top and shorts with butterflies, "Where is the back of your shirt?"

"I don't know, someone stole it, I didn't notice when I bought it-Dean"

"What is this?" He holds up the book by your foot, "well I love the show and this one is different, I can excuse the smexy stuff from being lame and boring because it's a period piece and I love the drama and the characters," he shakes his head and tosses it aside before returning to his antics

"Dean," you bite your lip and move his hand from his antics, even if it's the last thing you want to do

"I love your hair, it's like Rapunzel's in Tangled, it's like chocolate then if it's dark or wet it looks black like Baby and if the sun hits it it has red highlights and your eyes too, they change to golden in the sun like honey, they're bright vibrant green when you cry.....and dark, they draw me in"

It's your turn to raise a brow at him this time but you're physically incapable, your brows just come together instead, "Dean, I ha-"

"Ah~," he throws his head back in frustration and answers his phone, "Sorry.....I gotta go," he kisses you and you knew it was a real emergency because he practically bolts out of the door

"Dean wait-!"

-Present-

"She-Y/N, she used to have nightmares of memories almost every night, she wouldn't be able to scream, would just bolt up....she didn't like to talk about it," Dean twiddles his thumbs, glances over at the kid, "so I got worried when Uncle Sammy told me you were having trouble.....your mom's were about her parents fighting.....things like that......but," he chews his lips as another memory takes over

-Flashback-

"I am all for helping if I can Dean but this is one job I can't help you with!" You tell Dean and then turn back to the ghost you were fighting. "You! What is it huh!? Shame!? Is that it!? You can't just haunt people and kill them because of what happened to you!! You just-," you storm out and go to Sam, he gave the best hugs and he was waiting at the car. He grabs you when you run to his chest and holds your head, cooing you. He gives Dean a confused shrug when he comes out

"Y/N, what the friggin Hell was that?" Dean asks

"NOTHING! NOTHING! SHE SHOULD HAVE JUST LAID THERE, PRETENDED TO SLEEP AND NEVER SPOKE OF IT!! OKAY!!"

"Hey......wait...that girl was moles-"

"I know! I was too"

"Who?" Dean asks you, concerned

"Okay when?" He asks when you don't answer

"My sister and her boyfriend, I was fifteen," you get in your car and storm off

-Present-

Dean gulps and tries to think of what to say, "Your Uncle Sammy said it started after a date...."

There was that silence he heard before from you

"Did they try something?"

"How did you know?" She looks at him

"......I remembered something about your mom.....what happened?"

"......the date went well.....we were coming home when he pulled over and he started touching me, I didn't like it....so....I did something I shouldn't have done"

"What's that?"

"I took my knife, the one Jr gave me, and I put right up between his legs....and I said stop it or I will call my uncle, take me home....so he did, I guess I scared him, he brought me home....so nothing really happened but I've been too scared to tell anyone because I could get in trouble...."

Dean pulls her to his chest and kisses the top of her head, "I'm so proud of you, but never think you will get in trouble....."

She nods, "can you tell me more about her?"

"Yeah, but enough for tonight....get some sleep," he kisses her head and tucks her in then closes the door as he leaves the room

"Well?"

"She told me what happened and thankyou Sam," Dean hugs him again

"You're welcome? Dean, what was causing the nightmares?"

"She will tell you when and if she's ready, but thanks to you and my nephew she's alright so thankyou....."

"Do you want to rest?" Sam asks feeling exhausted

"Dude, I think I've rested enough for a bit," he pats Sam's arm and trots downstairs, flopping into a chair and reading the Bridgerton book

"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam smirks at him around the corner

Dean shrugs, "looking into what Rhi is reading to make sure she's set for daydreams"

"Huh?"

"Don't worry about it, I'll see you in the morning"

[pexchybxbe]

Inbox open for x reader fic requests!

Hallo! I'm opening up my inbox for just a couple fandoms, really only two.

Futurama and Supernatural.

Now, I will go ahead and say that I'm not too fond of gore, but I'll do small detailing of it if the fic request either says or implies it. I'm mostly open to fluff, but will do angst too. Smut is a meh, so it'll be like a 50/50 whether I decide to do smut requests or not.

Now, the list isn't long, but here are some character X Readers I'm comfortable with writing (only because I know the character well):

Philip J. Fry X Reader Leela X Reader Dean Winchester X Reader Sam Winchester X Reader Castiel X Reader Jack Kline X Reader Bender X Reader Amy Wong X Reader

Now, here are some of the !reader tags I'm willing to do:

upset/depressed!reader drunk!reader fem!reader nonbinary!reader male!reader gender-nonconforming!reader artist!reader coming out!reader (if reader is deciding to come out, whether it be sexuality or gender) and more if you guys think of any!

Some for only Futurama: stripper!reader alien!reader cryogenically frozen!reader and more if you guys come up with some!

Some for only Supernatural: vampire!reader demon!reader angel!reader spirit!reader haunted!reader hunter!reader and any more if you guys have something in mind!

I'll also do song fics as well with any of the !reader tags!

[darkwinchesters]

Wonderland

reader x dean winchester

Author’s Note: just a soft one shot cause we need some softy one. This was basically after watching “11x08 just my imagination” honestly this was rushed while I was rewatching season 11 :/

Warning: Fluff, Dad!Dean x Mom!Reader, kinda short and has slips cause I was half asleep while writing this.

inspired by wonderland by Taylor swift but not based on it!

“Lily, where are you?” Mary ran across her playroom as she dashed behind her faded sky blue toy box.

You were in the Library reading more books on how to get rid of the darkness aka Amara.

Dean was asleep, whereas you made out the sound of Sam treading through the bunker hallway.

You heard some commotion in the kitchen as you rushed there.

Mary who was in her room ran to the kitchen behind Dean who had been woken by the disturbance.

“Hey, baby.” He bestows a weary smile, planting a kiss on your forehead, you draped your arms around his waist, inhaling the subtle whiskey scent from the night before.

“Are you having a stroke?” He inquires Sam, with a trace of weariness in his voice. You produce a blank expression at the younger Winchester who was clutching onto the air.

“You don’t see him?” Sam points at nothing when you hear a squeal from behind you.

Mary pushes past you and Dean.

“Hello! I am Mary.” The corners of her eyes crinkled, the distinct freckles sprinkled over her nose, reminded you how alike she was to her father.

“Lily, is this your friend?” That’s when you and Dean gasp in cue, setting eyes on the two normal-looking creatures that emerge before you.

Sam explains how this was his imaginary friend, Sully from when he was a kid.

“Hello! I am Lily.” A woman with fairy wings, a wand, glitter scattered across her clothes and a blue tiara on her head.

“Alright, I am going to get my gun.” Dean turns to walk away but you grab his arm.

“Dean.” He glances at you as Mary gawks at him intently holding her imaginary friend’s hand.

“Don’t touch my kid.” Dean takes Mary into his arms, she proceeds to squirm and try to escape his grasp.

“Hey, baby girl. Want waffles?” Her eyes illuminate as she gleams resulting in Dean reflecting her enthusiasm. Making her smile was what he lived for. That’s all he would want to spend the remainder of his life fulfilling, keeping her and you happy.

Mary’s green eyes shone as she hopped out of Dean’s arms and ran to the food on the table.

“But, daddy we already have food, Sully made!”

You stride to Mary to speak to her quietly, while the boys conversed with the Zannas.

“Where are you going, Lily?” You could glimpse the sweet, big green eyes, gape at the fairy.

“I’ll be back, in a jiffy!” The fairy kneels to boop Mary’s nose, Dean crossed his arms as he watched intently, his eyes glued onto the Zanna.

As the fairy’s index finger booped Mary’s nose, fairy dust fell from the air.

“This is-“ Dean commences as he shakes his head but you throw him a glare. He sighs, restraining the urge to comment.

Mary’s eyes were focused on the glitter encircling her as she giggled before hugging the Zanna.

_________

[wandering-winchesters]

First Moments: Kiss

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Summary: The first time Dean Winchester kisses you Word count: 861 A/N: I am debating on making this a series, covering different "Firsts" with Dean.. Any interest in that? Let me know!

The first time Dean Winchester kisses you, it happens in the least romantic place imaginable—an old gas station parking lot on the outskirts of nowhere. The sun is setting, casting an amber glow over the cracked asphalt and the Impala parked nearby, her paint gleaming like polished obsidian. The faint smell of gasoline mingles with the crisp scent of impending rain, a storm brewing in the distance.

It wasn’t planned. Nothing about Dean ever feels planned, really. He’s a mess of contradictions—cocky and self-assured one minute, guarded and vulnerable the next. You’ve been riding shotgun with him for weeks now, chasing down leads, salt-and-burning restless spirits, and fighting things most people wouldn’t dare to believe existed. Somewhere along the way, you became more than just hunting partners. You don’t know what to call it yet, but there’s a connection between you, an unspoken pull that you’ve both been too stubborn—or scared—to acknowledge.

Until now.

It starts with an argument. Of course it does. Dean has this way of pushing your buttons, and tonight he’s doing it with the precision of a master.

“You can’t just run in there without a plan!” you snap, your arms crossed over your chest.

“And what was your plan, huh?” he shoots back, his voice rising. “To stand around and wait until the ghost decides to play nice? That’s not how this works.”

“It’s called strategy, Dean. Maybe you should try it sometime instead of going full kamikaze every damn hunt!”

He scoffs, dragging a hand down his face in frustration. “You know what your problem is? You think too much. Sometimes you just gotta act.”

“And you think too little!” you retort, your eyes narrowing. “One of these days, your impulsiveness is going to get you killed.”

The words hang in the air, sharper than you intended, and for a moment, Dean just stares at you. His jaw tightens, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—hurt, maybe, or regret—but it’s gone before you can be sure.

“Fine,” he says, his voice quieter now. “If you’ve got it all figured out, why the hell do you even need me?”

It’s not the first time you’ve fought, but there’s something different about this one. The air between you feels charged, like the storm rolling in above. You don’t answer right away, and Dean takes a step closer, his boots crunching against the gravel.

“Why, huh?” he presses, his tone softer but no less intense. “Why do you keep sticking around if I’m such a screw-up?”

Your heart pounds against your ribs, a wild, erratic rhythm that matches the storm clouds overhead. You open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat. Because it’s not that simple. Because you don’t stick around in spite of his flaws—you stick around because of them. Because Dean Winchester, for all his faults, is the kind of person who will throw himself in harm’s way without a second thought to save someone else. Because he’s loyal to a fault, fiercely protective, and has a smile that could light up the darkest corners of the world, even when he doesn’t believe it himself.

“Dean…” you start, but his name barely makes it past your lips before he moves.

It’s not hesitant or tentative—it’s sudden, like he’s been holding himself back for too long and finally snapped. His hands cup your face, rough and calloused but somehow gentle, and then his lips are on yours.

The kiss is everything you didn’t know you needed. It’s not perfect—Dean’s lips are a little chapped, and the angle is slightly awkward at first—but it’s real. There’s an urgency to it, a raw, unfiltered emotion that leaves you breathless. His hands are warm against your skin, grounding you even as the world seems to tilt on its axis.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly your hands are fisting in his jacket, pulling him closer as if the space between you is unbearable. He responds in kind, deepening the kiss with a low, almost involuntary sound that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s like the dam you’ve both been holding back has finally burst, and there’s no going back now.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing hard, your foreheads pressed together. The storm is closer now, the first drops of rain starting to fall, but neither of you seems to notice.

“Wow,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dean chuckles, a low, self-deprecating sound. “Yeah, uh… sorry about that. I probably should’ve—”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, your fingers still gripping his jacket. “Don’t apologize.”

His eyes meet yours, and for once, there’s no wall, no mask, no bravado. Just Dean.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admits, his voice soft and almost vulnerable.

You smile, your heart swelling in your chest. “Took you long enough.”

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine, and the tension between you finally seems to ease. The rain starts to pick up, but neither of you moves. For once, the hunt can wait. For once, the only thing that matters is this moment—messy, imperfect, and absolutely perfect all at once.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester @whump-loverz @pizzagirlxnsfwx @king-of-milf-lovers @jollyhunter

[hauntedwitch04]

Baby

Words: about 3k words

Warnings: smut, daddy/baby kink, DEAN FUCKING WINCHESTER (yes he is a warning himself because he is damn hot)

Author’s note: Hi loves! Here the second day of my kinktober. I enjoyed writing this so much. I love Dean and I love the idea of him into dirty talking so, you are welcome ;)

Requests are open I Ask

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 2: Dirty talking

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Do you like it baby?" Dean says as he looks at one of the loves of his life. With one hand he touches her gently, and whispers a few more compliments. The scene that paints itself before you is awkward, to say the least.

You can't help but snort as you watch your boyfriend "make love" with his car again. Feeling observed Dean immediately turns and looks at you, not immediately understanding what is wrong.

"Are you okay?" Seeing your face, which at the moment was not exactly the picture of happiness. You, unable to bear that situation any longer, get up from the garage counter on which you were sitting and quickly leave.

"Hey, baby, where are you going?" asks Dean following you, not understanding the reason for your discouragement.

Upon hearing that per name, fury ignites in you like a match that quickly sets a whole unsafe building made of ruined playing cards on fire. You turn toward him, anger erupting inside you, as he looks at you shocked.

"Don't even try to call me by that name Winchester! First you call your fucking car that and then your girlfriend! Are you kidding! I'm worth less than that piece of junk! If that's the case you might as well stop looking for me because you and I are done!" You scream shocking both Dean and you. When you finish an awkward silence falls between you, to say the least, so you quickly run to our room, and lock yourself in, too embarrassed to confront Dean right now about what you had said a few seconds ago. Slowly you make your way to your bed and sit down, thinking again about what had come out of your mouth. It had never occurred to you to yell like that at the oldest Winchester man, even before we started dating and were just two friends-enemies at work.

Inside you know you're a little sorry you said those things about Baby, after all, you love that car too and along with Dean and Sam, you have many of your fondest memories with them inside that car, but today has been a particularly heavy and difficult day for you, because all day long, since this morning, you've been craving to make love to Dean. You feel your cheeks immediately get hot at the idea of what you've been wanting to do to your boyfriend well since this morning, before being interrupted by Castiel, due to an emergency.

You had tried to forget the wet feeling in your panties, hoping that by merely passing time, your desire would subside until this evening, but instead seeing him move in his workshop had only inflamed even more the passion I already felt inside you.

You know you were wrong to yell at him like that, but at that moment I felt like I was going crazy, and you just wanted him to look at you and read in your eyes everything you wanted to do with him, instead of just looking at the car. For more than half an hour you had been thinking of all the ways he could take you on the hood of that car, and he was just thinking about how to polish it better. You're a little shocked by this fact because usually the one of the two of you who is usually the more resourceful in these things is him, and not you, and yet it looks like Dean Winchester had become a priest today.

You realize you are lost in your thoughts when you hear someone knocking at the door, already knowing who it was.

"Come in." You say in a whisper, so softly you're surprised I heard you, and yet, the door opens and shows your Dean in all his glory.

"Ehy" He says in an unsure voice as he looks at you waiting for your answer. You see pain shining in his eyes, from what you had said earlier probably, and immediately you feel guilty. You look into his eyes and wave to him to come and sit next to you. He pauses for a moment before doing what you had told him.

As soon as he rests on the bed you feel the warmth of his body immediately warm me, and unconsciously you move closer to him seeking comfort.

"Sorry" You say at the same time, and then look up and stare into each other's eyes and let a light laugh break free, and lighten the air a little.

"I'll start." Dean affirms and then takes a deep breath and begins to speak. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how I was neglecting you, and I know I'm a dickhead and for that I apologize. I promise I will look at my car less and commit to doing more things with you that you enjoy. But you must promise me that next time you will tell me sooner if something bothers you and not just after so long. I love you and I want you to be okay, I don't want you to suffer anyway, and I don't want to be the cause of your discouragement especially, so please talk to me." He concludes the talk as he takes your hands and leaves a sweet kiss on both of them.

Again a wave of guilt makes its way inside you, as with your right hand I take his chin and again cause his gaze to rest in your eyes.

"You are not the one who should apologize. The fault is really only mine. Of course I would like you to look at Baby less, but I understand what it means to you, and I enjoy spending time with you fixing it and getting to know it. Today your car has been nothing more than the innocent victim of my anger and impatience." You confess, as you gently caress his cheek with your other free hand. He immediately places his face in your palm and enjoys that contact as he frowns.

"What made you so angry?" He asks curiously, before changing his expression and becoming very frightened. "Is it something I did?" He asks fearfully, and you shake your head slightly amused.

"You didn't do anything." You say, lowering your gaze. "On the contrary, it's something you didn't do." You continue in a low voice, thinking he doesn't hear you, but as always luck is not on your side and he looks at you even more confused, trying to understand the meaning of your words, like a puppy learning commands for the first time.

"What wouldn't I have done love? If you try to explain, I might find a solution. "He says, trying to be convincing, but immediately you feel your cheeks get hot and you imagine you have turned the color of a bell pepper. You stammer incomprehensible explanations for a few minutes before taking a big breath closing your eyes and deciding that the omelette was now done. You close your eyes before opening them again and looking down at your hands, while in a low voice you confess to Dean what seems to be your biggest secret.

"Do you remember this morning when Castiel arrived?" You ask unsure, not looking at him. He takes your hands and tries to lower himself to meet your gaze.

"Of course I remember." Responds the older Winchester, not understanding where this speech is actually going.

"Well, do you also happen to remember what we were doing before Castiel came along?" You go on in a whisper, thinking more and more that it was the wrong idea. He pauses for a moment, trying to bring back the images of this morning, not understanding what you are referring to. Then, like lightning in a clear sky, an image appears before his eyes.

You lying under him as he kissed your neck and you moaning his name like a prayer. His hand was under your shirt and was caressing your breasts, while he was positioned between your legs, making sure that you felt his presence in the most sensitive spot on your body. Remembering that scene, everything immediately seems to make sense now in Dean's mind and like a puzzle everything seems to take on a sensible shape.

You meanwhile had looked up, sensing this important silence on his part, and now as you are staring at him, you notice that his usual little mocking smile seems to be forming on his lips, and you realize that he now knows, too.

Dean slowly approaches you, before moving your hair away from your neck with a hand gesture as light as a gentle gust of spring wind. Soon after, you feel his lips settle, light as a butterfly on a flower, on your neck. You cannot help but let out a silent moan as you feel every muscle in your body relax and melt under his touch, as you close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure of that moment. You bend your neck slightly, giving him the chance to have access to more skin, and so he slowly begins to leave a trail of kisses along every inch of your skin, until satisfied with his work he pulls away, licking his now red and swollen plump lips, to go whisper something in your ear. At the loss of that contact you let a soft moan escape your lips, and you hear him smile against your ear as he strokes your face with his hand.

"Is my poor little girl sad because this morning Daddy didn't finish what he started? Were you in such a bad mood because you didn't get my cock? Oh poor my needy little girl." Dean whispers in your ear as he takes your earlobe between his lips. You can't help but moan, not caring that either Sam or Castiel could come in at any moment. You immediately feel your panties get wet, just hearing his words. The hunter's hand travels and passes from your face, to caress your breasts over your shirt, to pass over your belly and finally reach the beating heart of your pleasure. With an expert gesture he gets his hand into your pants, which even you cannot understand how he managed to do it, but the only thing you know is that within seconds you feel his fingers caressing your pussy. You just repeat his name like a mantra, as if it were the only certain thing in your mind clouded by the pleasure he is giving you, just with that simple gesture and his words.

"Oh feel how wet you are baby. You like what I'm doing to you, don't you? Do you like it when I talk dirty to you?" he asks, but you can't answer, so you just nod, but he, not satisfied with your answer, withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, sucking on them as if they were the tastiest lollipop he's ever tasted, so much so that you let out a moan of approval.

You look at him and immediately can't help but let another involuntary sound escape from your mouth of pleasure at seeing him perform that impure act. He looks at you smiling and brings his fingers back into your pussy to collect some more of your fluids, and this time when he takes his hand away, he rests his fingers on your lips, and with his piercing green eyes he stares straight into your eyes.

"Suck baby, I want you too to know how good your pussy is." He says, in a rough and sensual tone, so keeping your gaze fixed in his eyes, you wrap his fingers between your lips and begin to suck lightly, to increase more and more the eagerness with which you do it. He cannot help but be pleased as he watches you. You feel by now that a lake has formed in your panties, so you let go of his fingers, and ask him in a whisper.

"Please Dean, I need more." You beg him, as you begin to undo his pants with one hand. He immediately stops you, laying his large rough hand on yours, while the other takes your face in his hands and brings your eyes back to his.

"What do you want baby? You have to tell me, or how can I give it to you." He says, with a mocking smile plastered on his face. You blush again, as you gather your courage.

"I-I need you Dean." You say at the end, finding no other words to say it.

"Oh my little girl is embarrassed? Is she afraid to say she wants my cock inside her? You don't have to be ashamed baby, if that's what you want you'll get it, but you have to tell Daddy well what you want first." He explains as he slowly strips you of the various garments you are wearing. First he takes off your T-shirt, then your pants, next he moves on to your bra and last your panties, letting the cold air of the room come in contact with your warm center, making you shiver, and making your mind unable to think of anything else but him fucking you so hard that he slams the headboard of the bed into the wall, so hard that it leaves its mark. You look at him begging him not to humiliate you like that, but you know deep down you like it when he talks like that, and he knows it too so he lets you go.

"Please Daddy, I need your big cock inside my little pussy. I need you to fuck hard just the way you know how, please Daddy." You beg him as again you start to undo his pants, but this time he doesn't stop you and lets you do it, smiling contentedly.

"That's right, my little girl needs to be fucked every day or she goes into withdrawal, doesn't she baby?" He says, as he watches you wrap your lips around his member and can't help but moan at that scene.

"That's right baby, you're great. You like sucking my cock, don't you?" He asks as he gathers all your hair into a messy tail, imposing the rhythm he likes best. You nod, trying not to choke, and he can't help but smile in satisfaction. "You like it when I talk to you like that, don't you, baby? I bet if I stuck two fingers in your tight pussy now this one would be all wet and hot the way I like it."

"Dean please I need you." You beg him at last, pulling away from him slightly. The man nods and as if you weighed nothing he throws you down on the bed. By now you are both naked, you feel his body on yours and can't help but draw him closer to you. You feel his cock brushing against your entrance, when with a firm gesture he enters you, making you both scream with pleasure.

"Oh God, baby, I swear I could live inside this pussy. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Having my cock inside you all the time, ready to fuck you whenever I want." Dean moans close to your ear as he continues to move inside you with firm, fast thrusts, not letting you have even a second to rest. You feel your body vibrate with pleasure as sounds come out of your mouth that you can no longer control. Your hands grip the covers of the bed tightly as you bite Dean's shoulder hard, trying to wake up anyone within a five-mile radius.

By now you can no longer conceive the conception of time, everything seems confused, and the only thing you understand is that you are getting closer and closer to your orgasm. Your hands move to the back of the man on top of you, scratching his entire back.

"Dean, please don't stop." You whisper in his ear, before tossing your head back, praying that he won't play with you and let you achieve pleasure.

"My baby girl is about to have the orgasm she so longed for. You want to come on top of my cock baby, don't you? God I could come just imagining your pussy clenching around my cock." He replies, as he increases the speed to help you achieve what you so longed for.

"Dean- Fuck, I'm cumming." You scream, reaching for the pleasure. You close your eyes, and for a moment you really feel like you are touching heaven with your finger. Your whole body quivers and can't stop stopping, and you only manage to return to your body after a few minutes.

In the meantime, he had made a few more movements, fast and bumpy, and had reached orgasm as well. You spent a few moments still, catching your breath, Dean lying on top of you, before moving to your side on the bed and surrounding you with his arms.

You spend a few minutes like this, enjoying the silence that hovers like a comfortable blanket over your bodies after that moment of passion, before Dean ruins, as is his wont, that moment.

"Honey, are you really jealous of my car?" He asks, in what sounds like a serious tone to you, so you turn to face him, but he continues. "Because you know I love that car, but you're definitely the one with the best body." He says, winking at you. "Should I start calling you my little race car?"

"Dean, one more word and I swear I'll cut your balls off."

"Received message."

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[haileygarciasunshine]

Winter Cookies

Created: 12/01/22

Posted: 12/01/22

Pairing: Dean Winchester x GN! Reader

Word Count: 483

Warning: N/A

Summary: Having to sit out of a hunt, you decide to entertain yourself by making homemade cookies.

Christmas Advent Calendar

"Sam?" You called through the bunker. "Dean? Cas? Jack? Kevin?" You let out a heavy sigh. "Anyone?" Venturing through the bunker, there wasn't a sound stirring. It was the quietest it's ever been since before the Winchesters found it. The eeriness quickly begun weighting on you.

It didn't cross your mind that they might've left to go on a hunt. One that you'd have to sit out due to a injury, you substained from the last hunt. Naturally, Dean took it upon himself to make sure you were homebound and safe.

In your opinion, he was being an overly cautious mother bear, but there was no arguing with him when it came to protecting others, even over the slightest injury.

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. It was in that moment you decided to keep yourself busy and put your baking skills to the test. Atleast when they get home, they'll have something sweet and homemade to munch on especially since they've only eaten diner fast food.

Manuvering around the kitchen, you gathered the neccessary supplies to allow you to make cookies. Finding cookie cutters, you decided to put them to good use and have a little fun while you were at it.

Turning on your christmas playlist, you were quickly enveloped in the warmth of the season. As you were listening, you began creating the dough for the cookies. Once they were done, you began spreading them out on the counter, with a holiday shapped cookie cutter in the process. Chosing between snowmen, snowflakes, candles and trees, there was no shortage of choices.

As you were enthrilled with your activity, you hadn't noticed the bunker door open revealing the Four men you had been in search of earlier in the day.

"What's that smell?" Jack asked glancing at Sam for an answer.

"That, is the smell of fresh, homemade cookies." Dean answered instead. Giving the group a toothy grin, he trudged the way to the kitchen where you stayed occupied.

It was while you were in the middle of dancing that you finally noticed the small audience that appeared.

Gasping, you quickly halted the flowing movements that you were previously doing. Opening and closing your mouth, there wasn't a flow of words that came out in explanation.

"I-"

"Thanks for the cookies, Y/N/N." Sam broke the silence by quickly grabbing a cookie on his retreat towards his room. Jack and Cas quickly followed by example. It was just you and Dean.

"I, uh." You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly. The words escaping you once again.

Dean chuckled, making his way towards you. Placing a warm kiss upon your cheek, he let out a soft 'Thank you sweetheart.'

Once he left the room, you placed your hand upon the spot he previously attached his lips to. Heat traveled up your neck as you realized what had just happened.

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[taylortots-world]

Ready For Love

Summary: Reader and Dean are watching over a nearby neighborhood. Just the two of you. What could possibly happen?

Warnings: (18+)(minors dni!) lil' sexy time in baby ;), smut

Note: Sorry- this seems long?? I'm just playing around with different perspectives atm, so enjoy this first person piece. Like or reblog if you enjoy :)

Sam had sent Dean and I away to stake out a specific neighborhood that had a series of odd murderers and disappearances. While we were at this spot, Sam was staking out the neighborhood a block over. It was freezing in the Impala. The leather seats didn’t help. In the winter, the seats were like giant ice blocks. In the summer, it was like putting your bare ass on a hot grill. I rested my head against the window, watching as my breath slightly fogged the window.

“And we are officially- out of coffee.” Dean said, rattling the empty thermos.

I looked over at him, groaning. “I told you to save me a sip.”

He shrugged, tossing the empty thermos into the backseat. “Whiskey will have to do. It’ll keep us plenty warm.” He smirked at me as he dug around in his inner pocket.

“Good point.” I sat up and pulled my bag right between my legs, unzipping it. I was praying that I had been smart enough to pack a bottle of whiskey. I looked up, slightly squinting as I continued to feel around my bag. Notebook, pens, tampons, everything but whiskey. I was starting to lose hope, then I felt the sleek mickey that had been buried at the very bottom of my bag.

“A-ha.” I sang, snatching up the bottle, smiling at Dean as I pulled it out.

“Great minds thing alike.” He nodded towards me, holding up his flask. I swear- he never left the house without that thing. I can always count on him for a little pick me up during the day, or any hour real.  I smiled widely, unscrewing the top before taking a long sip. The liquid burning my throat on the way down- in the best way possible. I slightly inhaled through my teeth.

“Good shit.” I nodded, holding the mickey out for Dean. His fingers gently brushed against mine as he took the bottle. My heart slightly fluttered- it shouldn’t have. Pull yourself together, Y/N.

***

Both the bottle and flask were drained, and the both of us were definitely feeling our buzz. My face felt hot and flushed due to the alcohol- and Dean of course. He always knew what to say and when to say it. I can see how he gets so many chicks.

“Yes- Sam peed himself. He still won’t admit it till this day.” We were both practically in hysterics. I held my stomach as I laughed.

“You’re going to kill me Winchester.” My laughter died down as I wiped a tear away with my knuckle.

“Oh I couldn’t kill you, sweetheart .” He said as his face appeared beside mine. I couldn’t help but drink him up. His freckled skin, piercing green eyes, the way his lips were slightly parted.

Silence. I was practically star struck. Was he hinting at something? Before I knew it, I was leaning in. Giving in, I gently gripped his face as I kissed him. He immediately kissed me back, no hesitation.

Our gentle kisses quickly turned into hot, rough kisses. I ran my hands down his broad arms, I needed more. He nipped at my bottom lip, causing me to hum into his mouth. He pulled away, his forehead against mine. He smelt of whiskey and his incredible natural musk.

“Backseat?” He asked, his eyes never leaving mine. My eyes flicked to his lips as I quickly nodded.

Dean pulled away and quickly swung the drivers door open, slamming it behind him. I wasted no time and decided to crawl over the front seat, hitting the backseat with an ‘oof’. Dean opened the door, smirking down at me as he shrugged his jacket off. I quickly pushed the discarded thermos from earlier off the seat, along with my own jacket. I fully laid back on the seat, my chest slightly heaving as I watched him. He tossed his jacket into the front seat and slowly covered my body with his. I gripped the collar of his henley, tugging his lips to mine. He started kissing a trail down my jawline to my neck and collarbone. My weak spot. I’ve dreamt of how his lips would feel against mine. My neck, legs. How his head would look between my legs.

“Your tense,” He said against my neck, peppering lighter kisses “Let me help you relax.” He whispered, his stubble tickling my neck.

I nodded, watching as his hands slid up my sides, taking my shirt with it.

“This okay?” He looked up at me, stopping right before my breasts.

“Yes- please.” I was practically begging. I was putty in his hands already.

I raised my arms, allowing him to slide my top up. My bra was a deep mauve. I would’ve worn a matching set if I knew this was going to happen.

I watched as an even bigger smirk grew on Dean’s face. He gently cupped my breasts, kneading them. Arousal was pooling more than ever. I could feel my panties as they began to dampen. I quickly leaned up, kissing him deeply. As our lips moved in sync , my hands disappeared behind my back to fumble around with the bra hooks. Once the hooks were undone, I watched his face closely as I slid the bra off, allowing it to fall to the floor.

“Oh darlin’..” He said as he took in the sight of my bare tits. He ducked his head behind my ear, kissing down my neck and collarbone once again. Once he got to my tits, he kissed, licked, and sucked as much as he could. His tongue found my right nipple, gently flicking it.

“Dean-” I sighed out, my eyes shut as pleasure overtook me.

“Use your words babe, tell me what you want.” He said between kisses, moving to give my other nipple some attention.

“I want you- I need you to fuck me.” I usually wasn’t this upfront- but Dean flipped a switch within me. I don’t know what it is, but I just need him more than ever right now.

He softly laughed against my skin. “Lay back, let me take care of you.”

His lips worked down my torso, right until the waistband of my pants. He kissed across the area right about my waistband, causing me to squirm underneath him.

“I know princess, I know. I’m gettin’ to it.” He looked up at me through his thick lashes. He hooked his fingers in the sides of the band, gently tugging them down. He kissed down my leg until the pants were at my ankles. I gently kicked them off, making sure not to hit him.

“These-” He ran his fingers along the top of my panties “Are cute, but they have to go.”

I quickly lifted my ass off the seat and slid the panties down to my midthigh, making it easier for Dean to remove them. My pussy was now on display for him. I was slightly embarrassed- I hadn’t shaven that weak. A gentle stubble covered me.

“Sorry- I haven’t shaven yet. Maybe you shouldn’t-” Before I could get another word out, my panties were off and his face was buried between my legs.

I gasped, my hand immediately found his head. My fingers gently gripping his hair as his mouth worked. His lips were wrapped around my clit, occasionally flicking his tongue. His hands slid to my hips, in an attempt to keep me still. I continued to wiggle under his touch. He pulled away, running his fingers through my folds. My breath caught in my throat as he brought his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean.

“So delicious-” He said before sliding two fingers in.

I moaned and arched off the seat. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

His fingers moved at a moderate pace. I gave him a few teasing squeezes, causing him to smirk.

“Dean- I need more.” I whined, causing him to curl his fingers.

After my plea, his fingers moved quicker. His curled fingers hitting all the right places. I felt the coil heating in my stomach already.

“Please don’t stop-” I begged, throwing my head back against the inner console of the car door.

“Mm, you gonna’ come for me?” He whispered, continuing exactly what he was doing. I could come just from hearing his voice alone.

I quickly nodded as my breathing began to pick up, my core heating more and more.

“Fuck- I’m gonna come.” I whispered. I was practically white knuckling his hair, making sure not to tug too hard. Then it happened. I saw stars. My orgasm snapped like an elastic band, my whole body trembling. I kept my eyes shut and moaned as pleasure washed over me in waves.

“Thatta’ girl. You alive up there?” He slowly crawled up my body, hands on either side of me as he hovered above me. I slowly opened my eyes and was face to face with him. I was still recovering from my high. No guy had ever made me come. Especially not like that.

“I’m alive.” I said, slightly giggling. “You got a condom?” I asked as I gently traced his features with my fingertips.

“Yeah, hang on.” He rose to his knees, his bulge begging to be set free.

He snatched up his jacket off of the floor, searching all his pockets. I sat up, kissing his chest and abs, toying with his belt at the same time.

He sighed as he looked down at me, watching me closely. Once his belt was undone, I quickly tugged his pants down. Dean sat down on the seat, lifting his butt to slide his jeans fully off. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his bulge. The shape- the size. I flipped around, seating myself beside him. I nibbled on my bottom lip as my left hand found it’s way up his thigh, to his crotch. I gently rubbed him over his boxers, feeling his cock twitch under my touch. He brushed my hair out of the way before attacking my neck with his mouth. Goosebumps coated my arms as he gently raked his teeth against my flesh. I had never been so enticed by someone before. I have never needed someone this badly.

“You’re killin’ me.” His voice was muffled against my neck, vibrating against my skin.

“Let me help you relax.” I purred, quoting him from earlier.

“Hey, that’s my line.” He pulled back, smirking at me.

I lowered my mouth to his shoulder, kissing and licking a trail down his arm to where I wanted him most. My stomach tightened as I gently tugged his boxers down, his cock springing free. I felt my jaw go slack, my mouth watering. Not wasting another minute I lowered my mouth, taking him inch by inch. I hummed around him as I began to bob my head.

“Fuck Y/N-” He moaned, tilting his head back against the seat.

His hand ran up my back, before planting it in my hair.

The corners of my mouth twitched upwards. The sounds he was making as I bobbed my head up and down were fueling my arousal even more.

“As good as this feels- I need to be inside you babe.” His voice laced with desperation. I swear he could read my thoughts. My pussy was clenching around nothing, begging to be filled.

“Lay back, make yourself comfortable.” Dean slid to the side of the backseat, giving me room to reposition myself.

I laid back, using his t-shirt as a pillow. I looked up, meeting his dark green stare, goosebumps coated my skin instantly. This man didn’t even have to touch me. He could simply look at me and I’d be a mess. He ripped the foil wrapper open with his teeth before rolling the condom onto himself.

“You ready baby?” He asked in a hushed town as he hovered over me, covering my body with his. I quickly nodded, placing a few soft kisses to his collarbone.

Our gazes never broke away from each other as he slowly slid into me. My jaw went slack once more as I felt him stretching my walls out perfectly with his cock.

“Fuck you’re so tight.” He said against my ear as he slowly started rocking into me. I couldn’t help but moan.

“Oh fuck Dean-” I moaned out. I dragged my nails down his back, earning a grunt from him. I continued to rake my nails across his back, making sure not to dig them too deep.

He lifted his head, kissing me deeply as his hips sped up. He slowly rose, his hips still thrusting and grinding into me. A mischievous smirk grew on his face as he placed his thumb on my clit, rubbing gentle circles.

My back arched up off of the seat, a loud gasp leaving my lips. If he kept this up, I wasn’t going to last much longer. I could tell he was nearing his own orgasm.

“Fuck I’m gonna come.” He groaned out, his brows furrowing in pleasure.

“Come for me, please.” I rasped as his thumb moved faster against my clit.

“Come with me baby.” His breathing became ragged before exploding inside of me. The condom catching the remains of his orgasm.

One more circle around my clit and I was a mess. My whole body, trembling. Nothing but inaudible curses and moans. Dean collapsed on top of me, both of still breathing hard from our highs.

“We’re definitely doing that again.” I said as I gently stroked his head, playing with his hair.

“We should make this a reoccurring thing.” Dean said, the side of his face resting against my tit.

[burntsecrets]

Dodging Cupid's Arrows

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 2630

Prompt: Cupid's Got A Shotgun by Carrie Underwoods

Summary: An encounter with Cupid forces you to face your feelings for the Winchester Brothers.

Warnings: Emotional hurt/comfort, unresolved romantic tension, fear of emotional vulnerability, self-doubt, internal conflict, unrequited love, intense emotional introspection, defensive behavior, discussion of emotional scars, mentions of past relationship trauma, slow burn, protective behavior, Cupid intervention, romantic frustration.

The bar’s dim, sputtering light casts a weak glow overhead, barely illuminating the worn wooden tables and the scuffed floor beneath your boots. Shadows cling to the walls like old memories, and you sink deeper into your chair, swirling the last of your whiskey in the glass before taking a slow sip. The liquid burns as it slides down your throat, spreading a fleeting warmth through your chest, but it does nothing to calm the storm raging in your head. It never does.

It’s the same pattern every time, isn’t it? Men with honeyed words slip into your life, leaving behind promises as thin as smoke, promises they never intend to fulfill. Before you know it, you're left standing in the wreckage of something that wasn’t even real, just a mirage of what could have been. All those "almosts" stack up like bricks, weighing heavy on your heart, and even though you’ve never had a real relationship, it feels like you've been left shattered more times than you can count.

The scars are there, even if no one else can see them. They linger in every moment a guy brushes you off, in the hollow smile you force when you know it's not real. You feel the sting in every glance that sizes you up like you’re a prize to be won rather than a person to know. So you’ve built your walls, layering them high and thick until nothing, no one, can break through. Not even him.

Or them.

Sam and Dean Winchester—they didn’t just walk into your life. No, they crashed into it, two forces of nature that bulldozed right through your carefully constructed defenses, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in a way you swore you’d never be again. At first, you tried to play it cool, act like they were just hunters, comrades in arms. But the months blurred together, and now you can’t even tell how long it’s been. And that scares you because losing track means losing control and losing control means letting them in.

And letting them in? That’s not an option.

Even now, you can feel their eyes on you, the weight of their presence lingering in the air like a storm cloud ready to break. Sam’s by the pool table, his lean, tall frame moving with practiced ease as he lines up shot after shot. There’s a calm to him, but it’s the kind that keeps you on edge, like he could switch in an instant and suddenly be dangerous. Then there’s Dean, perched at the bar with a half-empty beer in hand, his eyes flicking between the room and you, constantly scanning for threats, always watching. 

Always watching you.

They’re protective. It should comfort you, but it drives you insane. Because the truth is, no matter how many monsters they face, no matter how many battles they fight, they can’t protect you from what matters most. They can’t protect you from yourself.

You think back to the last hunt, to the ridiculousness of it all—a damn Cupid, of all things. The little winged freak zeroed in on you from the moment you stepped into that abandoned church, those bright, beady eyes tracking you with unnerving precision. He wasn’t cute, not like the Valentine's Day cards would have you believe. No, this thing was more like a demented cherub, armed with arrows dipped in cosmic mischief, and he had you in his crosshairs. You could feel it in the air—the tug, the weight, as though Cupid himself was hell-bent on forcing you to confront feelings you’d buried so deep even you were beginning to forget they existed. Each arrow he loosed sent your heart racing, as if you could sense the emotional mess he was trying to weave. But you dodged them all, every last one, determined not to let some glorified matchmaker unravel everything you’d worked so hard to lock away.

You're not stupid. You know precisely what the little bastard was aiming for. It’s not like you’ve been blind to the way Sam’s gaze lingers on you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, soft and curious, like he’s trying to piece you together. Or the way Dean’s jaw tightens, a flicker of possessiveness in his green eyes, whenever some random guy at a bar edges too close, his whole demeanor shifting to silent warning. You’ve been dodging these unspoken glances for months now, sidestepping their care, their questions, like someone dancing around a minefield. Because you know that once you stop moving, it’ll all explode in your face.

And you’ve had enough explosions in your life.

But there’s only so much running you can do before the inevitable catches up.

“Hey.”

Dean’s gravelly voice slices through the whirlwind of your thoughts, rough but steady, anchoring you as he slides into the seat beside you. His presence is a weight that presses into the air, solid, almost suffocating in its certainty. The chair creaks beneath him, but all you hear is the pounding of your own heartbeat, thundering in your chest.

“Are you alright?” He’s asking, but it’s more than that. It’s the question beneath the question, the one you’ve been dodging for longer than you can remember.

Your heart skips a beat—a betraying thud that echoes in the hollowness you’ve tried to keep locked down. You’d never admit it, not even to yourself, but he makes it impossible to pretend. You glance at him, careful to keep your face neutral, masking the fluttering in your chest with a look you’ve perfected over years of pretending. It’s almost second nature by now—the practiced nonchalance. But with Dean, it’s always been different.

There’s something in the way his green eyes bore into yours, piercing through the walls you’ve built brick by brick, layer by layer. It’s as though he sees right past your armor, straight into that small, fragile part of you that still aches for something real. Something more. But you can’t let him see that. You won’t. So you shove it down, hard, pushing that flicker of vulnerability back into the shadows as you lean casually into your chair. Your body language distant, closed off.

“Yeah,” you shrug, the lie slipping from your lips as easily as breathing. “Just tired. Long day.”

Dean doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, just watches you with that familiar intensity, and you know—you know—he doesn’t believe a word you’re saying. He’s seen you fight, seen you bleed, seen you crawl out of the wreckage of hunts that should’ve killed you. He’s seen you at your worst, and somehow, he still sticks around. He and Sam both do, and that’s the problem, isn’t it? They’ve gotten too close, wedged themselves into your life in ways that make it impossible for you to keep pretending.

Pretending that you don’t care.

Pretending that the way Dean looks at you doesn’t unravel something deep inside.

From across the room, you feel Sam’s eyes on you. His quiet gaze tracks the shift in the atmosphere as he casually leans his pool cue against the table and makes his way over, long strides slow but purposeful. His expression is calm and unreadable, but you see the concern in the tightness of his jaw and the subtle way his brow furrows as he joins Dean at your side.

“You’ve been quiet,” Sam says softly, folding his arms across his broad chest. There’s no judgment in his tone, just that frustrating gentleness, the kind that makes you feel seen when you’d rather stay hidden. “Is it… about earlier? With Cupid?”

The mention of Cupid sends a sharp twist through your stomach. You swallow, forcing down the surge of emotions that threatens to rise, burying it beneath layers of practiced indifference. You won’t let some stupid angel with a bow and arrow undo everything you’ve worked so hard to keep locked away. You won’t.

“I’m fine,” you snap, the words slipping out too fast, too harsh. The crack in your voice betrays you. “That was nothing. Just another hunt.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, and you can feel the weight of Sam’s stare, too, both of them pinning you with that all-too-familiar look. The one that says they’re not buying your crap, the one that makes your pulse quicken, and your chest tighten. You hate that look because it leaves you nowhere to hide.

“Bullshit.” Dean’s voice is low, steady, cutting through the silence with calm certainty. He takes a long sip from his beer, but his eyes never leave yours, and it feels like he’s peeling back every layer you’ve carefully put up to protect yourself. “You’ve been dodging that thing like it was the plague, and don’t think we didn’t notice.”

You clench your hands into fists in your lap, frustration bubbling up like a rising tide. “Look,” you say, your voice sharp, defensive. “I don’t need some magical arrow telling me how I’m supposed to feel. I’m fine the way I am.”

Sam shifts beside Dean, his arms still crossed, but you see the way the muscle in his jaw tenses, the way his hazel eyes soften as they search yours. “It’s not about what you’re supposed to feel,” he murmurs, his voice quiet but firm. “It’s about what you do feel.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, it’s all too much. The weight of their concern, the intensity of their gaze, the truth that they’re trying to force you to admit—it presses down on you until you can’t breathe. You stand up abruptly, the legs of the chair scraping loudly against the floor as you push it back. The sound is harsh, jarring in the quiet of the bar, but you barely notice.

“I don’t feel anything, okay?” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “Not for you, not for him, not for anyone. And I won’t let some winged freak tell me otherwise.”

The tension in the air thickens, suffocating, hanging between the three of you like a storm cloud ready to break. Dean stands up slowly, his movements deliberate, his face carefully neutral, but there’s something in his eyes—something raw, something that cuts deeper than you want to admit. Hurt, maybe. Disappointment. You can’t think about it. You won’t.

“Y’know,” Dean says quietly, taking a step toward you, his voice low and steady, “you keep saying that, but you don’t believe it. Not really.” He’s close now, too close, the heat of his body radiating off him in waves, and it makes your pulse spike. “You’re just scared.”

Your heart slams against your ribs, your breath catching in your throat. Fear coils tightly around your chest, but not the fear of them. No, it’s the fear of what they’re asking you to do. To let them in. To trust them. To stop running.

And running is all you know how to do.

“I’m not scared,” you whisper, but the words feel weak and empty, even to you.

Dean’s lips twitch into a small, humorless smile, his eyes softening just a fraction as he watches you. “Yeah, you are,” he says, his voice gentler now but no less intense. “And that’s okay. But maybe it’s time you stopped running from it.”

Sam steps closer, his presence steady and calm, grounding you in a way that you don’t want to admit you need. His voice is soft, full of quiet understanding, but there’s an unshakable strength beneath it. “You don’t have to do this alone, y’know,” he says. “We’re here. We always have been.”

The words sink into you, settling deep into the cracks of your carefully guarded heart, and something inside you shifts. Just a little. It’s terrifying, the idea of trusting them, of letting yourself hope, but there’s also something achingly beautiful about it. About the possibility that maybe, for once, you don’t have to be the one to leave first. That maybe, you don’t have to protect yourself from the inevitable heartbreak.

But still, the fear—the bone-deep, soul-crushing fear of opening up, of letting someone in only to be left behind again—is overwhelming and paralyzing.

“I can’t,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper now, trembling under the weight of the truth you’re too afraid to admit. “I can’t risk it.”

Dean’s hand reaches out slowly, cautiously, like he knows one wrong move could send you running. But he doesn’t stop. His fingers, calloused from years of hunting, gently find yours, and instead of just holding your wrist, he entwines his fingers with yours, locking them together with a quiet but unspoken promise. The touch is soft yet firm, his thumb grazing the back of your hand in slow, soothing strokes, as if he’s trying to reassure you with every heartbeat. The warmth of his skin against yours sends a shiver up your spine, igniting something deep inside you, something you’ve kept buried for so long you almost forgot it was there.

You feel the weight of his presence settle over you like a blanket, heavy with meaning, but there’s nothing suffocating about it. It’s grounding, steady—safe. And yet, that safety terrifies you because it’s the kind you’ve convinced yourself you don’t deserve. But Dean, he isn’t giving you a choice. Not this time.

His other hand comes up slowly, his movements deliberate and gentle, as if he’s afraid you might bolt at any second. His palm cups your cheek, warm and rough, but his touch is tender, almost reverent. His thumb brushes across your cheekbone, wiping away a tear you didn’t realize had fallen. The simple motion cracks something inside you, and for a moment, it feels like the walls you’ve built so carefully over the years are crumbling under the weight of his touch.

"Maybe you’re not the only one taking a risk here," Dean murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, barely above a whisper. His words hang between you, heavy and raw, filled with all the things he’s never said but has always felt. His eyes search yours, and in them, you see it—the longing, the fear, the desperate hope that you’ll stay, that you’ll finally let them in. That you’ll choose them.

You feel your breath catch in your throat as his fingers tighten ever so slightly around yours, anchoring you to the moment. His thumb continues its slow, tender sweep across your cheek, and the tenderness in his gaze is enough to break your heart. This man, this infuriating, stubborn, protective man, who has fought demons and monsters and everything in between, is standing here with his heart wide open, asking you to stop running. Asking you to be with him and his brother in a way that terrifies you more than any hunt ever could.

For the first time, you feel the weight of what’s at stake—not just for you, but for him, for Sam. This isn’t just about you being afraid of getting hurt. It’s about them too, about the risk they’re taking by loving you, by wanting you to be a part of their lives. And it hits you with such force that you almost can’t breathe. They aren’t asking for your walls to come down—they’re asking to stand beside them. To hold you through the fear, through the pain, through whatever comes next.

You stare up at Dean, his hand still cradling your face like you’re something precious, and for the first time, you allow yourself to wonder—really wonder—if maybe, just maybe, you’re not the only one with something to lose.

Because you can feel it now—the risk they’re taking, the way they’re holding their breath, waiting for your answer, waiting for you to finally say yes. And in that moment, you realize that they’ve already decided. They’ve already chosen you.

It’s your turn to choose them.

taglist // @spnfanficpond @spnfans

[thewnchstrs]

Scarred

Pairing: DeanXReader

Disclaimers: blood, serious injury, graphic description of injury, angst, near-death, mentions of surgery, hospitals, descriptions of scars, fluff, fluffy smut

Word Count: 3.4K

M A S T E R L I S T

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There wasn’t much time to think, ducking behind the low brush as I sank close to the ground. It was chasing me, making a game out of hunting me down. I knew it was screwing with me because If it wanted me dead, it could’ve done so nearly half an hour ago when it spotted me the first time.

I panted, clasping a hand over my mouth trying to keep quiet. I could feel every cut and bruise up and down my arms and legs. The makeshift Molotov cocktails that were once in my hands were now scattered, broken on the forest floor. I silently kicked myself for losing Sam and Dean, for not paying attention when I should’ve been.

The wendigo’s roar pulled me from my pity party, slamming me back into reality. I was running out of options, but I knew there was one last thing I could try, even if it might get me killed. I couldn’t kill it. I couldn’t outrun it. But maybe I could stay hidden long enough for Sam and Dean to find me.

I shoved the gun into the back of my jeans, watching as the wendigo quickly disappeared from one area of the forest to another so fast I hardly had time to keep up with it. My heart pounded, my palms sweating when it was no longer in my line of sight. 

An unearthly screech from behind me was what signaled that I’d been found. I didn’t dare look back as I shot up from behind the bushes and began sprinting away from it.

My boots pounded into the wet ground, giving slightly under my weight. I pumped my arms, my breath coming out in short bursts as I listened for the distinct sound of the wendigo close behind me. My entire body begged me to stop. Every muscle, joint, and tendon pleading to take a break, but adrenaline coursed through my veins, propelling me even further forward.

It felt like I’d been running for an eternity, the entire time praying that I’d run into either Sam or Dean, but now it seemed like I’d run so far I’d never find them all the way out here. My toe struck a short root sticking from the ground, throwing me off balance. I stumbled slightly before regaining my footing but it was just enough for the wendigo to gain traction on me.

I felt the white hot pain as the wendigo sunk its claws into my side, grabbing at my left hip before sliding down all the way to my knee, blood instantly pouring out of the wound. I crumpled to the ground, screaming in pain as I scrambled away but the wendigo reached for me again, this time clawing from the middle of my left side at my waist and down to my hip, taking a large chunk from it.

“Dean!” I screamed, the only name in my head that seemed to click. I screamed his name over and over, even though I knew I was likely to far away from either of them. “Dean!”

I tried crawling faster, digging my hands into the earth, dirt clinging under my fingernails as I tried to go as far as I could, but my vision was already starting to turn black around the edges. 

The wendigo’s presence behind me was unmistakable, his heavy footfalls coming from behind me. I pulled myself forward another few inches, as if it would do anything to keep this thing from tearing me apart. I glanced over my shoulder at it, the way it towered over me. Its one hand was coated in my blood and flesh, pieces of me dangling from his fingernails.

I felt my heartbeat slow down slightly, trying to kick myself across the ground now, using my good foot to propel myself forward to no avail. I tried screaming again, tried calling for Dean, but even that would take too much effort. I was dying. There was no doubt about that.

I gripped the ground ahead of me, chunks of wet dirt smooshing between my fingers, giving me absolutely no leverage to get any farther. I paused for a second, hearing the wendigo’s breathing come closer. I closed my eyes momentarily, trying to find the strength to keep going.

The hot orange and red glow of fire engulfing the wendigo was what made me turn weakly, watching it go up in flames over my shoulder. Just the sight was enough for me to fall to my side on the earth in relief, the wet grass cooling my hot cheeks. My breath came out in front of me in a harsh cloud against the cold air.

Two sets of footsteps ran toward me. They were yelling, but I could hardly tell what they were saying. Dean appeared over me first. Dean. I raised my hand up, gently holding his face in my hand, a mixture of mud and blood appearing over his stubble. Sam came next, his eyes wide as he examined my shredded side but I didn’t dare take my eyes away from Dean’s. I smiled softly.

“Sam...her out of here...” Dean said frantically, but his words came in and out. I lolled my head to the side, noticing the pool of blood in the grass that was forming under me.

“That’s a lot of blood, Dean,” I whispered, my words slurring together.

“You’re gonna...alright, okay? You’ll...just fine,” he said hurriedly as he shed his jacket, pressing it tightly against the wound. I let out a guttural scream, tilting my head so I was screaming into my arm. “...sorry...Sam’s calling...on their way.”

I could feel my heart pounding in my ears, dark spots dancing in my vision. I gripped Dean’s arm with everything I had, even though I knew it probably didn’t feel like much. 

“I was so scared, Dean,” I whispered to him, but he was so frantic trying to stop the bleeding he didn’t hear me. “You saved me.” He pressed the jacket tightly over my side again, but it didn’t hurt as bad this time.

He said something else, smoothing my hair away from my face. I was able to hold my eyes open just long enough to see Sam come into view, taking over where Dean had been.

“Stay...me, okay?” Dean’s voice filtered through. “...eyes open...okay?...do that? Can you...for me?”

I nodded slowly, hearing the distant sounds of sirens wailing, bright lights filling the edge of the forest. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed between then and when a medic stood over me, shining a flashlight into my eyes. All I knew is that I must’ve dozed off because Sam and Dean were no longer at my side but standing above me. Two other medics came into my view, frantically talking between each other. 

They were saying something about blood loss, something about severe damage. I couldn’t process it, my eyes becoming heavier.

“...focus...me okay?” Dean’s voice came again. I could only move my eyes now, slowly dragging them over to him. “Focus...my voice...ignore...medics, you’re fine...safe...stay with...focus on me.” 

I tried, God, I tried to focus on Dean. But when the medics lifted me up onto the gurney, my vision blacked. 

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My eyes felt glued shut as I tried to pry them open, instantly regretting it once a sliver of light passed through my eyelids. I shut them again, groaning slightly. Then, I heard a shuffle, the sound of a chair being dragged over linoleum floors.

A hand slid into mine, fingers slotting perfectly against it. I tested my strength, giving an experimental squeeze that only resulted in the ever-slightest twitch of my fingers.

A quiet breath of relief was pushed out of the person next to me, the presence I’d know from anywhere. Dean squeezed lightly back, “Take your time, Y/N.”

It felt like years before I was able to fully open my eyes. I blinked against the dimmed overhead lights, even that was too much. Instead, I turned over to where Dean was sitting on the side of my bed, smiling softly.

“Hi Dean,” I whispered, trying out my voice. I winced at the way it sounded, so gravely and rough. Dean instantly reached for the water next to him, holding it so I could drink through the bendy straw.

I let my head fall back against the soft pillows, letting the water soothe my throat. For the first time, I noticed the tightness of my left side. I rested a hand over it, feeling the wrapping that covered my midsection and extended all the way down to my knee.

The events of that night slowly came back to me in short waves, and then all at once. I remembered every ounce of pain, remembered feeling the blood as it pooled out of me. 

Dean seemed to sense my recognition, squeezing my hand tighter, “You’re okay. Helluva lot of stitches, but...” He paused, his façade faltering as he shook his head, averting his gaze. “You scared the hell out of me, Y/N.”

I watched him, tears filling his eyes. I knew he hated when I saw him like this, so torn up. I held back my own tears, “How many?”

Dean looked at me now, confused, “What?”

“How many stitches?” I asked. “Enough to make me look like Frankenstein?”

Dean let out a short laugh, bringing his hand over his mouth as he nodded, “Yeah...a hot Frankenstein.”

I smiled, “It’ll be a badass scar though, right?”

He nodded again, his eyes searching my face as if if he didn’t, he’d forget what I looked like. We silently watched each other, neither of us having to say a word. We knew the kinds of dangers this life dragged us through. We knew the stakes with every hunt, every monster we took on, even if we’ve faced them countless times.

However, that realization, the reality that slammed into us whenever one of us was hurt, inches from death, was a lesson that never really stuck very well with any of us. We knew it was bound to happen, but when it actually did, it flipped our lives on their heads.

Dean leaned forward, kissing me softly the way he had millions of times before, but this felt different. Desperate and relieved and terrified all in one. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes, just feeling him there. We were together again, and for now, we were okay.

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I eyed the scar in the mirror, twisting every which way in an attempt to view it from every angle. My fingers danced over the still upturned skin, and even though the stitches had been taken out weeks ago, I could still see where they’d been punctured through my skin.

My eyes traveled from the bottom where the scar ended right above my left knee, following the jagged line up until it disappeared behind the material of my shorts before reappearing above the waistband and up toward the middle of my side.

Multiple tendons and ligaments had to be repaired, making for one nasty scar. Actually, nasty wasn’t a word to describe the monstrosity. It was hideous. It wasn’t clean and badass looking like I remember asking Dean. It was jagged, rugged, thicker in some spots and narrower in the rest. The skin was raised as if there was something hidden just beneath the surface.

To top it all off, I could hardly walk in a straight line. I depended on the crutch that I now had resting on the wall in front of me. I scoffed, shaking my head. A hunter who can’t even walk.

I was pulling my shirt back down when the bedroom door creaked open slightly. I glanced through the mirror where Dean poked his head in, smirking, “Whatcha doin’?”

I glanced back down at the scar, “Checking out the new addition.” Dean came deeper into the room, standing behind me, his arms wrapped around my shoulders, his head next to mine as we looked into the mirror together. “It’s gross, Dean.”

Dena furrowed his brow, “What?”

I huffed, sliding from between his arms before sitting carefully on the end of the bed. It’d taken days for me to even be able to sit up, even that was a chore now. He sat down next to me, the bed dipping under his weight.

“Never mind, it’s stupid,” I mumbled, shaking my head.

Dean scooted closer, “Hey, what’s going on? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

I knew that. Of course I did. I looked over to Dean, his eyes full of concern as he watched me. I clenched my jaw, looking down at the relentless scar.

Dean followed my line of sight, his face falling before his eyes came back up to mine, “Is it about this?” I bit my inner cheek, nodding slowly. “Y/N...you know what happened wasn’t your fault, right? You didn’t see it coming, it’s okay.”

I shook my head, lacing my fingers through his, “It’s not about that, Dean, it’s...it’s the scar.”

He blinked twice, confused, “The scar?”

“It’s...it’s ugly, Dean,” I said, starting to feel silly about how much it was affecting me. “Every time I look in the mirror it’s all I see.”

“Hey, hey,” he said, using his fingers to tilt my chin up until I was looking him in the eyes. His eyes. The ones that made me melt the first time I saw him and the ones that always looked at me with so much love. They didn’t look any different now. “You really think that?”

I nodded, “It’s true.”

“It’s not true,” he said instantly.

“I just...I thought that when you saw it, you wouldn’t...” I hesitated. “It’s just, you always talk about how beautiful I am, but, now I don’t feel beautiful anymore. I was scared you wouldn’t think I was.”

His face contorted into confusion as he lightly held my arms, “Y/N...you can’t be serious. Baby, you’re beautiful. A scar ain’t gonna change that.”

I looked down at his hands, noticing now the tiny scars crossing in lines over his arms and hands and the litany of them that I knew decorated the rest of his body. I loved his, why couldn’t I love my own?

“Hey,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes momentarily before opening them again. “Forget about the scar, alright? I love you, no matter what.”

I nodded slowly, my eyes darting down to his lips. I leaned forward, my hands coming to rest on his jaw. He leaned into it, resting his hand on my lower back, bringing me closer to him.

His movements were slow as he began kissing down my jaw, moving the hair away from my shoulder. I let out a deep breath, feeling his lips travel down my skin. Between surgery and the healing process coupled with the insecurity of being naked around anyone other than myself, it’s been months since we’ve done anything.

He looked back up at me, his eyes darting down to my lips as he leaned in again, the kiss deeper this time. I moaned against him, tugging at his shirt, snaking my hands under the material and pulling it over his head.

Dean pulled away from the kiss momentarily, his pupils blown wide, “Lay down.”

He slowly guided me to lay against the pillows, careful of the still-healing wound as he situated my leg comfortably on the bed, “Is that okay?”

I hummed in approval and he smiled, pulling my shirt over my head and throwing it behind him. I ran my hands over his stubbled jaw, “Missed this.”

“Me too, baby,” he said as he lowered himself down my body, keeping eye contact with me the whole way down. I watched in confusion when he stopped at my sternum, his eyes now dancing over the scar on my left side. I instantly felt embarrassed, like I wanted to crawl into myself. However, Dean laid a soft kiss to the top of the scar. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

I swallowed roughly, my anxiety peaking as he continued to kiss down the long scar before gently pulling the material of my shorts away, revealing the worst of it. It was the huge gash taken out of my hip he was staring down at now. But instead of turning away like I thought he would, he peppered it with kisses, too.

“You’ve never looked so beautiful,” he hummed, continuing all the way down to where the scar ended just above my knee before turning, his head shifting until he was kissing up my inner thighs. I held my breath as he made it closer to my folds, pushing my underwear aside. Dean smirked up at me before slowly pulling the underwear down and away. He leaned forward again, flattening his tongue against my entrance. I gasped, my hand immediately going to his hair.

“Dean,” I breathed out, shoving my head farther back into the pillows, raising my hips to meet his mouth but he slung his arms over them, keeping me still.

He hummed as he took my clit between his lips, sucking gently. The vibrations made my body tense, my breath coming out in harsh pants. Dean’s hands ran softly up my sides, holding my waist, “Relax, baby.” I took a deep breath, letting my shoulders fall and my muscles loosen.

“Good girl,” he praised, his tongue darting in and out of me slowly.

“Dean...Dean, please. Need you inside me, Dean,” I panted, knowing I wouldn’t last much longer like this.

“What’s the rush?” He asked, smirking against my thighs. His hands were wrapped around them now, pulling them gently apart. “Wanna make you feel good. Show you how beautiful you are. Wanna feel you come like this first. Come for me, baby.”

It was all I needed as Dean returned his lips to my clit. My orgasm washed over me, filling every inch of my body. Dean rode me through it, licking up every last bit of what I had to offer him.

I fell back against the bed after the high had passed, smiling lazily at Dean who slowly made his way back up toward me, his hands on either side of my head. He dipped down, kissing me gently. I could taste myself on him, mixed with the taste of him. His dick pressed against my thigh through his sweatpants. I gripped his upper arms before bringing my hand between us, palming his cock through the material of his pants.

He groaned, burying his head in my neck before kissing me again. Dean pulled away from the kiss, his green eyes so bright in the dimly lit room, “You ready?” He whispered.

I nodded quickly and he slid his pants and boxers off, his hard cock hanging heavy between his legs. I breathed picked up speed, running my hands up his face as he slowly began to enter me, inch by inch. I let my mouth fall open, Dean’s lips going to my neck until he was fully inside. His movements were slow as he thrusted, his breath ghosting over my skin before coming back up to my lips.

Our breath from our panting mixed with each other, our foreheads touching but our lips just inches from each other. It wasn’t often that the sex was like this, slow and meticulous. 

It wasn’t long before my second orgasm began to build. My nails scratched up and down Dean’s back, letting out soft moans as he began to pick up the speed slightly.

“I’m close, Dean,” I moaned, choking on his name as he rolled his hips.

“Yeah, c’mon, baby. Come for me again,” he said as he kissed down the side of my neck again.

My entire body tensed around him as my orgasm washed over me. My body shook as I clutched Dean’s arms. Dean leaned forward, lightly biting the skin on my shoulder, stifling his moans as his hips stuttered. I felt him twitch before he came, exploding inside me.

We panted, not moving from our position for several seconds until Dean carefully slid out. I groaned at the loss of fullness, scooting over to the edge of the bed so Dean could lay down next to me.

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me close to his chest. I listened to his stuttering heartbeat, fluttering against my cheek. I glanced up at him where he was already looking down at me. I pressed my lips to his one more time.

“I love you, Dean.”

“Love you, too.”

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[lustfordespair]

always forever

SEASON 15 SPOILERS! Summary: You and Dean are a couple. Knowing what happens in season 15, this is basically you dealing with his death and the fact you were with child when he passed. The guilt of never telling him you were pregnant. It eats you up inside that you’ve lived longer than him but that wait pays off. Also, I listened to Always Forever by Cult on repeat writing this! It’s what inspired it too. Hope y’all enjoy! Warning: Angst, pure angst. Mentions of Death.  Mentions of Pregnancy. Teenager Things. Word Count: 2723

You and me, always forever. 

Say you’ll say never be seperate. 

She sat in the back of the impala confused on why the boys were taking a while, it was just a simple vampire nest to knock out, she knew they’d be able to by themselves due to the fact the Winchester brother’s have been in the hunting business longer than she had. 

I know what you’re thinking, why didn’t she just do the wipeout with the boys? Well she had been keeping a secret, they didn’t question her though when she insisted on waiting. “Those damn boys, what could be taking them so long?” she said aloud, exiting the vehicle and making her way inside. 

Slowly walking in her eyes blinked several times in disbelief at the sight before her. Sam standing before Dean, who was . . impaled? 

“Sam.” she spoke, causing the tall male to turn around. “(Y-Y/n)” he began. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He continued to speak but her thoughts blocked him out as she made her way to Dean. “He’s okay right?” she asked, not expecting an answer. 

“He’s-” 

“No. He’s not!” she placed her hands on Dean cheeks with tears beginning to fall from her eyes, “Dean- Dean! You can wake up now! Y-You’re fine! I know you are!” she reached for his hand for a pulse only to be met with no heartbeat and a hand placed on her shoulder. She turned to Sam.

“W-What are you doing! GET HIM OFF! GET HIM OFF-” she was sobbing at this point, yelling at the younger Winchester, doing as he was told although it pained him to pull his older brother's lifeless body off. He gently laid him on the ground. 

The two sat there for a while, Sam holding a crying (Y/n) in his arms. 

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

It was the day after they had Dean’s “funeral”, burning it more was. 

(Y/n) made her way to the fridge, pouring herself a glass of milk and herself down at the table, silently reading a book to herself. 

“So were you ever gonna tell him?” 

She looked up to the door to be met with Sam’s gaze, “Tell who what-”

“Dean.” he spoke, holding up a pregnancy test he had found in the trash a few days back. Yeah a few days, he had knew but never really knew when to bring it up. 

She took a drink of her milk and sighed, a single tear threatening her eyes. “I was, yeah. Never got to though, you know?” Sam only nodded at her comment and proceeded to grab himself a bowl of cereal. 

Miracle soon walked his way in and barked, causing (Y/n) tp get up from her seat, “Don’t worry boy, I’ll get you some breakfast too.” She got out a pan and some eggs, even before Dean passed she’d always cook Miracle an egg or two. 

“Really you made the dog eggs but not me?” a deep voice asked. 

She turned and smiled, “Yes, Dean I did. Not my fault you didn’t want to get up a little earlier for breakfast.” 

The male made his way towards (Y/n) and gave her a kiss on the head, then the cheek, her nose, her other cheek, her neck.. and finally on the lips. 

“Ew jeez, if y’all are going to do that go back to your room.” Sam spoke, resulting in a laugh from (Y/n). 

“Well, don’t mind if I do.” Dean swept her off her feet and made his way out the kitchen and to their room. 

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)???”

She blinked a few times before looking at Sam, “What?” she asked. “Uhm, you okay? You drifted off a bit.” he spoke. She realized she was still in the kitchen, she took a deep breath. “Yeah I’m fine, sorry.”

With that the two proceeded on with their day. 

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

“SAM! SAM! OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO SCREAM!” she shouted.

Sam rushed out of his room and ran to (Y/n)’s with Miracle barking behind, ‘(Y/n!) What’s wrong?” he spotted the girl with her hand on her stomach, leaning over her desk. 

She gulped and looked at the male, “It is damn time Samuel!” and with that Sam panicked. He grabbed the emergency bag they had prepared for the day and made his way to the impala, starting it and driving.

“I can’t believe it’s happening! I’m going to be an uncle!” he shouted turning to the passengers seat, “SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!” he turned the car around realizing he forgot the most important thing to the hospital: (Y/n).

“I’M SORRY I FORGOT YOU” he began, “SHUT UP AND TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL SAM!” “OKAY OKAY SORRY!”

They then made their way to the hospital, both of them knowing they’d remember the day the kid’s Uncle Sammy forget their mom when she was giving birth. Soon, they arrived.

There laid (Y/n) beginning to give birth, squeezing Sam’s hand and yelling at him for letting his brother get her pregnant, as if it was his fault. 

“Come on (Y/n)! One more push!” the doctor shouted. 

She cried, “I can’t.. I can’t anymore!” Tears were forming in her eyes, still holding onto Sam’s hand.

“Hey, you got this babygirl.” 

(Y/n) turned her head the opposite direction of Sam and stared at the love of her life, “Dean..”

“(Y/n), you got this.” he grabbed her hand, “You’re the strongest woman I know, so you push that kid out and be the best mother in the world!” he shouted. He then leaned to her ear and whispered, “I love you.”

She nodded and took a deep breath before pushing one last time.

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

“Mary!!” 

Giggling could be heard around the house hold, along with Miracle’s barks. 

“Mary Deana Winchester you get your butt in here and put your shoes on now!” (Y/n) shouted. “No! Momma, no!” 

(Y/n) stood in the living room arms crossed, wearing a simple black dress, her hair up and heels. “Mary please, I promise you and I can have a burger night and watch any movie of your choice.” 

Suddenly, a little girl around the age of 4 made her way into the living room, Miracle following behind. “Can we watch Frozen..?” (Y/n) laughed, “Of course.” she made her way to the couch and sat down, watching as Mary grabbed her shoes and climbed up on the couch. 

“Alright little one, ready to go?” she asked, hearing Mary’s little yes in response. (Y/n) picked the little girl up, grabbed her purse and began to make her way out the door.

“You two look beautiful, especially you.”

(Y/n) looked at Dean and smiled, “You’re always for flattering, Winchester.”

He chuckled, “I know.”

“Bye Miracle! We’ll be back soon buddy.”

“Sorry we took a bit! Somebody didn’t wanna put her shoes on.” She spoke. 

“It’s fine! As long as my best man and flower girl is here.” Sam smiled and gave Mary a hug before hugging (Y/n). “Ahem, I’d prefer best lady” she smirked. Sam rolled his eyes, “Hey no matter what you are the best huh?”, “Well of course I am!” she smiled at the younger Winchester’s remark.

“Ah, she looks so cute!” (Y/n) whispered to Sam as Mary walked down the isle happily spreading rose petals around, even handing a few people some directly in their hands. He nodded in agreement. 

“Mommy?” Mary looked up at (Y/n) as they ate a burger, watching Frozen, the pair still in their outfits from the wedding. “Yes, Mary-Dean?” she looked down at the little girl. “Did daddy like burgers?” she asked.

(Y/n) smiled, “Your daddy LOVED burgers.” 

“Really?” Mary asked, “Yeah.” (Y/n) giggled at the girl, she had mustard on the side of her mouth, “Would make a mess like you too.” she spoke as she wiped the mustard off. 

“Alright kiddo! Come on, it’s time for bed.” 

“Mommy, can I sleep with you tonight?” 

“Of course kiddo.”

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

“I miss you.” 

“I know you do, babe.”

(Y/n) and Dean danced together, it was their wedding. She’d giggle when he’d spin her around and she’s apologize when she’d step on his shoe.

“She asks about you, you know. Mary.”

“Curious about her handsome father?”

She rolled her eyes, “Of course.”

Dean dipped her and pulled her back up. He kissed her forehead, then her cheek, her nose, her other cheek, and stopped.

“Hey! You missed the lips buddy.” she spoke. “I know.”

Dean placed his hands on her shoulders, a sad look on his face. “Why haven’t you let go yet?”

“What..?”

“Let go. LET GO. LET GO. LET GO.-”

“Mommy wake up!!” Mary shouted. 

“Wha? Huh?” (Y/n) looked at her daughter, “What is it Mary?” she asked

“You were crying in your sleep..”

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

“Mary Deana Winchester! It is 12am, your curfew is 10:30 and you know that!”

“Sorry mom, jeez, I was just hanging out with friends.” Mary responded.

“I get that but I told you if you were gonna even be 5 minutes late to text me! Something could’ve happened to you and I wouldn’t know!” (Y/n) shouted.

“Jesus mom calm down! You act like monsters exist, I was just with friends, Avery remember?” Mary spoke. 

(Y/n) scoffed, “I know you weren’t with Avery, she stopped by asking for you while you were gone.” She crossed her arms.

“Fine mom, I was with Tyler what’s it matter?”

“Mary-Dean you know I don’t trust that boy!” 

“I don’t care! It’s my life!”

“Don’t you raise your voice at me little girl.” (Y/n) was furious at this point, which she hated. She hated yelling at Mary cause when she looked into her eyes she always saw Dean’s eyes.

“I can if I want to! And you know what! Sometimes I wish it was you instead of dad. He would’ve been cooler than you in this situation.” Mary made her way upstairs to her room, unaware that her sentence affected (Y/n) greatly. 

“You know she didn’t mean it, babe.”

“It doesn’t matter, Dean. It still hurt.” she placed her hand on her arm and rubbed it, the same way he would when she was upset.

“She’s just a teenager.” he spoke.

“I miss her being small.” (Y/n) turned to the male figure, “And I miss you.” 

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

Mary and Dean, Sam’s son, always got along, no matter the 4 year age difference. Ever since Sam got married and (Y/n) felt like she wasn’t important to him anymore, they met up every Friday for dinner. Specifically her Dean’s favorite, pizza and burgers.

“Look at those two getting long, how old is Mary again?” Sam asked, beer in his hand.

(Y/n) sighed, “16. Which is so weird to say.” she looked at the kids talking to each other then to Sam. “The other day she said she wish her dad was still here and not me.” 

Sam almost spit up his drink, it wasn’t like he liked to drink a lot of beer anyways, “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” he reassured her. “You’re her only mother, she’s just growing up”

“Yeah and that sucks Sam.” she admitted, “I know, but it happens. We have to deal with it as we get older.” 

(Y/n) scoffed, “Did you just call me old?” Sam raised his hands and shook his head, “No! That’s not what I meant!” She chuckled at his reaction.

Soon, Sam’s wife walked outside with the pizza and burgers. “Mary! Dean! Come dig in!” she shouted.

(Y/n) looked at Sam and Sam looked at her, both with pizza in their hands. 

“Cheers!” they shouted.

“Cheers!”

(Y/n) looked at Dean and smiled.

“Dork.”

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Mary came home crying.

“Mary? What’s wrong?” (Y/n) asked as the girl ran to her room and slammed the door. 

She sighed, realizing she may know exactly what happened, what she predicted. 

(Y/n) grabbed the container of ice cream in the fridge and made her way upstairs, “Mary? Love, it’s mom.” she spoke.

“Go away.” Mary responded.    

Silence.

“I got ice cream.”

Just like that the door opened.

She made her way to Mary’s bed and sat down, “What happened, love?” she asked. “You were right about Tyler.” Mary sniffled, “He broke up with me for Avery.”

“Avery? Seriously- you know what I never liked that girl in the first place with that one weird tooth and the way she’d wear pig tails and-” Mary giggled at her mother’s comments and grabbed the ice cream and a spoon form (Y/n)’s hand. 

“I’m sorry about what I said 2 weeks ago..” Mary paused. “I love you mom.”

“I love you too, Mary.” she kissed Mary’s forehead and they both dug in.

“Ya know, I’d beat that Tyler kid’s ass for hurting my little girl.”

(Y/n) giggled “ I know you would Dean.”

“I know you would.”

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

(Y/n) never thought she’d live to see the day. She always thought it was gonna be her next, not Sam.

She sat there in the church, Mary by her side, holding onto her hand.

She really couldn’t believe it. While most told her she was lucky to outlive the Winchester’s, they didn’t understand that- she never wanted to. She’s still living her life, she watched the people she’s loved pass and it affected her a lot. Especially today, being Sam’s funeral. 

“Come on mom.” Mary began, “Let’s get you home.”

Mary helped (Y/n) into the car and began to drive her home. She couldn’t help but notice her mother’s look on her face, “You okay ma?”

(Y/n) simply shook her head, “Both of my best friend’s are gone Mary..” 

Mary’s face was full of sorrow, she really did feel sorry for her mother. “Mom? Can I ask you something?” “Hm..?”

“Even after I was born, after all these years.. why did you never date? Never move on?” Mary asked.

(Y/n) looked at her before looking out the window, “No one could ever replace your father. He was the best and..” she paused, “Truly the love of my life.”

“As you are mine, sweetheart.” Dean smirked. 

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

Mary sat there sadly, she knew the day would come but she never wanted it to.

                                                 (Y/n) (L/n)

                                Loving mother. Loving daughter.

Tears rolled down Mary’s cheek, “I love you mommy.” she spoke. 

She never thought that someone could truly die from a broken heart.

That’s what got to (Y/n), a broken heart. Mary knew her mother lived a eventful life, so it was no surprised when she processed what she had died from. Although she was sad now, she knew her mother was happy. She knew she was up in heaven with the Winchester brothers.

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

(Y/n) walked around confusingly, she didn’t know where she was at but she did know she was young again. She stared at her hands and touched her (h/c) hair once again, no longer gray.

“(Y/n)?” a voice called out.

She turned out, “B-Bobby?” she asked.

The man chuckled, “Well it’s about damn time you got here.”

She tilted her head a bit, “Here?”

He smiled, “Heaven silly.” Bobby chuckled once again at (Y/n)’s reaction, “Yeah, ‘long time ago for you Jack changed the place up. We’re all together here.”

(Y/n)’s mouth opened a bit, “We’re?” Bobby nodded and began pointing, “Rufus lives there, The boys parents there.. speaking of the boys Dean sure damn hell has been waitin for you.”

Her eyes got teary, “Dean?”

“That’s my name doll, don’t wear it out.” 

“DEAN!” (Y/n) shouted and ran towards the male, jumping on him for a hug which thankfully he caught her.

“Sammy and I been waiting for you baby. Matter of fact we were just talking about you.” he admitted.

(Y/n) wasn’t even listening to him, just kissing him all over his face.

“Oh Dean! I’ve missed you!” 

“And I’ve missed you too (Y/n)” 

Dean planted a sweet kiss on her lips and pulled away, “Come on! Sammy and I are having burgers and beer tonight!”

She just smiled, “I love you, Dean Winchester,”

He smirked, “I love you most, (Y/n) (L/n).”

You and me, always forever.

We could stay alone together.

Author’s Note: OH MY GOODNESS I WROTE THIS IN A DAY. I was in fact, on a roll. I’m not even gonna lie I teared up writing the end cause Dean deserved so much :( Anyways, I hope y’all enjoyed the story! My hands hurt not aha!