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lexabitxh · 4 months

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S.W | Drunk Confession

summary: y/n gets a bit too drunk, and confesses her feelings unknowingly to sam winchester.

perspective: third person.

word count: 1837

The night was young and the Winchesters & l/n had finished up a case that took several days. It felt good to win. It was a pride and joy feeling they got to feel other than guilt and disappointment from other unsuccessful cases.

"Another round, on me."

Y/n said as she signaled the bartender and pointed at their empty shot glasses. It's been a long day and genuinely, they all needed this. A moment to unwind after a long week of hunting.

"You sure you haven't had enough?"

Sam said as he looked a little concerned. Y/n scoffed, "Now I understand why your brother calls you so uptight. Stop being such a chick, Sam" she said, while taking down another shot of rum.

Sam felt the need to be the one sober for the night. Usually he'd drink a few shared beers with Dean, but being that Y/n was tagging along, it required someone responsible to take care of the two. Dean let out a chuckled, "I'm starting to like her" he said, pointing at her while popping a fry into his mouth. Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance at the two's behavior, they always acted so childish.

•

"Dean, you're drunk-"

"I'm not drunk, I'm awesome" Dean slurred his words, laughing as he clinked his glass of beer with Y/n. They've been drinking for hours and slowly but surely they were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Sam shook his head in disappointment, not sure what to do anymore.

"Stop being such a party pooper, Sam and loosen up a little. Just have one drink with us." she insisted while playfully nudging his shoulder with hers.

You'd think since you can't beat them, you might as well join them... but being that Sam was... well Sam, he'd spend the rest of his night looking after the two, hoping they wouldn't get themselves into any trouble.

•

'Na-na-na, come on

Na-na-na, come on'

S&M was blasting through the speakers, while Sam drove the car back to their motel. Dean sat in the passenger seat, his window rolled down as he was swaying his upper body to the beat, bopping his head to the rhythm. Y/n sat in the back, her hands in the air while singing to the top of her lungs.

She could feel the liquor coming up to surface, but managed to contain herself together. She knew if she were to throw up inside the impala, Dean would kill her himself and dispose of the body without a sweat.

'Love is great, love is fine (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Out the box, outta line (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)'

Sam kept glancing from Dean to Y/n, laughing just a little. He's never seen this side of Dean before. It was nice seeing him all loose and happy, it's as if everything they've done in life so far, all the good and bad things had disappeared for the time being.

"'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it!!" Y/n sang while Dean tried his very best, but fail miserably as most of his words came out sounding gibberish.

Sam contained his laughter as he kept glancing through the review mirror, watching Y/n dance with a drink in her hand, her eyes closed for the most part, but even so, she looked enticing. The way she was feeling herself. Her lips, her eyes, the was she felt the music through her body.

At one point he lost control of the wheel, causing every one of them to jerk just a little. "Eyes in the road, buddy" Dean said as he took another swig from his beer. Sam looked back only to find that Y/n was no longer in his eyes-of-sight.

"Y/n?" He did a quick look-over only to find her slumped in the backseat, passed out. "Great."

•

Sam pulled into the motels parking lot, putting the car in park before turning off the engine. He sat there for a moment, watching Dean struggle to get out before in doing so. To his surprise, Dean had somehow managed to get inside their motel room without a problem. Sam shook his head and he got out to check on Y/n.

"Y/n?"

He had opened her side door and peeped inside, lightly shaking her awake, but she barely moved except making a few grunting noises.

"Mmh??"

"We're back at the motel... c'mon, let's go" he said softly. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere anytime soon with her current state, so with that being he helped her out. "Careful" he said as he grabbed her by her waist and wrapped one arm around his neck.

"Ok, ok, let's make this easier for you" he said as he scooped her up bridal style and carried her back inside. He used his foot to close the door on the way in, looking around for Dean before noticing him dead asleep on the floor.

"Alright... here we go..."

Said Sam as he gently placed her on her bed. He grabbed a blanket and placed it on her as he then removing her boots. Before he could walk away, Y/n grabbed him by his arm.

"Sam..."

Sam stood there awkwardly, looking down at her as the touch of her hand made him feel all sorts of feelings.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you..." she mumbled as she was trying so hard to open her eyes. "You're a good friend" she slurred, causing Sam to chuckle lightly. "Of course" he replied, "Get some rest."

"Also, you're a cute, Sam." she said, which caught him by surprise. "W-what?"

"You. Are. Cute..." she whispered, "and stupid." Sam was taken aback from her last comment, narrowing his brows together as he tried so hard not to smile. "But I like your stupid face. It's so stupid. It's so... I like it. Can I touch it?" she said while attempting to reach for his face, but was far from her touch.

He laughed a little. "You're drunk, Y/n" he said as he brushing her hair to the side.

"Yes I am. And I'm hopelessly in love with Sam Winchester... but it's a secret. Sam can't find out about this" She mumbled.

Sam could feel his cheek burning up about the confession. A smile so wide he could hardly contain his excitement. "Alright, it's our little secrete then" he reassured her.

"Pshhh"

"Shhhh"

He gestured as he smiled down at her.

"Goodnight, y/n" he said, hoping to get one in return, but she had quickly fallen asleep. He stood there for a little longer, watching her sleep peacefully. He shook his head, smiling like an idiot before going to bed. He figured he'd take the opportunity to enjoy the entire bed to himself, considering that Dean had taken the floor.

•

Y/n had woken up to the room spinning, her eyes having a hard time adjusting to the sunlight that shun in her face. She looked around the room. Dean no where to be seen and Sam sitting by the small table, who seems to be reading something off his laptop.

"What time is it?"

She said as she didn't remember how she gotten to bed last night. Sam looked up and smiled, "It's one in the afternoon. Don't worry, there's no case for the day" he assured her. "There's some ibuprofen and a glass of water right next to you" he pointed.

"You're a life saver"

She said, reaching for it as she popped the pills and swallowed it down with the glass of water. The water had quench her thirst, but she still felt hungover. "What happened last night?" She'd asked.

"You mean you don't remember?"

Y/n shook her head, "the last thing I remember was singing in the car to Rihanna. Which now thinking back to it, that was pretty embarrassing" she laughed a little. "you have no idea what you did last night" Sam chuckled mischievously, causing Y/n to worry.

"Samuel. What did I do?"

She asked, unsure of what she might've done that could be so bad other than having a karaoke with Dean Winchester. "I was promised not to tell" he said while gesturing his lips sealed.

"Sammy!" She yelled in annoyance, kneeling on her bed as she was intrigued of what she had done last night. Endless of possibilities had ran through her mind, but none that she could remember of. Sam shook his head, a cheeky smile on his lips as he didn't say a word. "C'mon, Sam! Just tell me!" She pleaded.

Sam knew how'd she react if she knew what she'd done last night, and he didn't wanted to put her through that embarrassment. Though there was nothing to be embarrassed about because if he was too being honest, he felt the same way about her.

"Well, if you really wanna know..." he said as he closed his laptop, "you said my face looks stupid" he said pausing before going on. "And that you liked my stupid face."

It all came back to her. She felt her body go numbed and her cheek flush with a bright burning sensation of red. "You remembered now" Sam teased, causing her to grab ahold of a pillow and shoving her face into it. In that moment, she wanted to die.

"Oh. My. God!"

She cried as she got up from her bed. "Sam, I'm so sorry. I-I was drunk, and it felt easier for me to confess... I didn't want you to find out this way. How embarrassing!" She cried as she buried her face into the palm her hands.

Sam quickly got up. "Hey, it's alright" he reassured her, gently removing her hands from her face and holding them in his.

"I'm glad you told me. Cause I don't think I'd ever have the courage to tell you how I felt" he said. "You, too, have a stupid, cute face" he quoted her, laughing just a little. "And I like that" he added.

"You do?"

Sam nodded as he gotten closer to her, closing the gap between them. "I like you, Y/n." He said as he leaned down to place a soft kiss against her lips. All her worries had melted away in that moment of bliss. She'd dream of this very exact moment, but she'd never imagined this is how it'd happen. Over a drunk confession.

They were soon utterly interrupted by Dean, who had bursted into the room with bags of food. "Woah, what I miss?" He said as he had caught them by surprise.

Y/n and Sam looked at each other, a shade of pink on their cheeks as they held hands like kids in love.

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #deancas #sam and dean #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #fanfic #yn #imagine #the winchesters #gif

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wandering-winchesters · 1 year

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Every Embrace

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2,218

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

Trigger Warnings: SPN level Violence, mostly fluff.

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

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

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tag list: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester

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choerypetal · 13 days

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Helpless Victim / Sam Winchester

— GHOSTFACE!SAMWINCHESTER X READER ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

🩸👻📞

summary: As the geek he is, Sam offers to watch Scream (1996) while his brother rants about a bad date. With Halloween just around the corner, Sam suggests they play a little game of hide and seek one evening.

taglist; @park-simphwa , @angzls , @hobiespick , @axolotllover225

ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar errors! enjoy xo'

The night was supposed to be just for the two of you. Sam mused about this when Dean’s date turned out to be worse than any of his corny pickup lines. In fact, Dean had rambled on about how terrible his date was, clinging to him when all he wanted with his date to be— was a one-night stand. Now, here you were with Sam, browsing the DVD shelves while he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck. His lips brushed against your skin, his breath growing heavier with each kiss. Sam had definite plans. Which you couldn’t help but chuckle at his own clinginess. Protesting before he ventured a little further, "Not now,” and could’ve sworn feel his lips forming into a pout.

Dean, on the other hand, had generously insisted on bringing food back from the restaurant to snack on. His excuse? He needed something to distract himself emotionally, of course. And despite his constant complaints, at least his provision of food was useful for both Sam and you while you all watched a movie. "Help me choose a movie, will you?" Sam sighed irritably as he loosened his grip on your waist, his shadow falling over you as his arm brushed against you. "There," you knew he didn't care about the choice of movie. As long as his older brother didn't throw a tantrum, "Scream 1996?"

You glanced up at him, one eyebrow arched at his suggestion. It was odd, considering Sam was never one to seek out horror movies, let alone suggest one. Yes, he was a movie buff, but he never admitted to liking this genre. Who could blame him, with the constant haunts, encounters with the King of Hell, and even being possessed by the Devil himself? His past traumas were undeniable. You shrugged it off, thinking it was a way to distract Dean, keeping him completely engrossed in the movie while Sam managed to keep you close. And it worked.

As night settled in, Sam had one arm wrapped around you, the other holding a burger. You, Sam, and Dean were watching a movie together. You couldn't believe it had worked; just a few minutes earlier, Dean, exhausted and unable to finish his meal, had fallen asleep, leaving just you and Sam. "Oh, would you look at that," Sam purred in your ear, gently licking his fingers after finishing his burger. Hearing your chuckle, he seized the opportunity to take you in his arms and lean in for a kiss. Just in time before Sam’s favorite scene of the movie came. Leaving your lips tender and pouty—a look Sam found undeniably adorable. “Hey, what about the distraction ugh?” you said slightly offended.

Sam couldn't deny how irresistible you looked beside him, especially when you didn't beg for him to kiss every inch of your exposed skin. Despite your obvious pout, his attention shifts back to the TV screen, where the iconic scene of Billy and Stu covered in blood was playing. Something struck him then—he recalled overhearing you once confess your attraction to masked men, thanks to Charlie loudly affirming it when you both thought you were alone. Sam had overheard the entire conversation and couldn't help but smirk, mentally taking notes.

"You know..." his voice sang in your ears, mesmerizing you with its delicate attention while his focus remained on the screen. "I have an offer," he said, instantly piquing your curiosity. With Dean now completely engrossed in his slumber, you weren't surprised that Sam would eventually become cocky. Tilting your head innocently, you replied, "Ask then," mirroring his tone but with a hint of curiosity in your voice. A smirk was obvious as his lips curved.

He chuckled, his voice raspier and more intense than usual, as his jaw tightened and the screams and cries of terror echoed in the background. His fingers traced a path down your chin, firm as he leaned in closer. Your lips barely touched, enticing you to kiss him right then. It was difficult to resist, and Sam was well aware of his effect. "Ever thought about adding a little excitement?" he asked with confidence, assuring you that it was completely okay if you didn't.

"Spice things up?" you repeated, your curiosity piqued more than he had anticipated. Initially, he worried you might take offense, but now he let out a soft, confident chuckle, his smirk widening. "I might have overheard your conversation with Charlie the other day..." he admitted, his fingers gently rubbing the back of his neck, prepared to back off if necessary. Eavesdropping wasn't his best move, but to his relief, you listened.

"Sam," you reassured him softly, your fingers gently caressing his cheeks. His arms wrapped around you, toying with the ruffled edge of your skirt. "And was watching Scream part of the offer?" you teased, adding a playful comment. You weren't entirely wrong, given his frequent observations of your horror movie marathons, though he didn't know about your particular fascination with Ghostface. "Then how about we play a game?" you suggested, your voice a melodic whisper in his ears. He almost moaned as you leaned in closer, your fingers trailing down his chest. But he stopped you abruptly. Oh, he wasn't about to let you take control—especially not tonight. "No, no, no, darling. I choose the game."

You snorted and rolled your eyes, playing the role of a petulant brat. "Fine, Mr. Ghostface." The nickname sparked his desire, and he struggled to maintain control as his eyes darkened. "How about we play hide and seek?" he teased, his tone making your knees weak. The thought of a game spanning the entire bunker thrilled you, and you nodded eagerly. "And look at this," he said, holding up the Ghostface mask. You couldn't help but laugh at his attempt to act nonchalant.

"Run, in one, two," his voice grew heavier with each passing moment, signaling he was fully embracing his role. He gave you ample time to dart around the bunker, uncovering hiding spots you had never noticed before. Completely immersed in the game, you chose to play the helpless victim, just like in the movies.

Your footsteps echoed on the marble floor as Sam donned the Ghostface costume, clutching a fake knife—the kind you’d find in a Halloween store. He wanted to add excitement without causing you any harm. Picking up the phone, he knew you’d be near one. When it rang and you saw who was calling, you played your role a little too seriously. “Hello?” your voice was soft, just the way he liked it.

“Who is this?” His familiar voice was slightly deeper this time. You knew Sam was hidden nearby as you walked around your hiding spot. “Who are you trying to reach?” he chuckled, clearly trying to replicate the movie scene, adding to the immersion that Sam loved to encourage. “What number is this?” Hearing his voice made your knees weak, and Sam definitely knew it. You could almost sense his cockiness coming through the other line.

“What number are you trying to reach?” Reciting the exact lines from the movie elevated the immersion to another level, piquing your curiosity about Sam’s location. Out of the two of you, he knew the bunker inside out and could find your hiding place in a blink. “I don’t know,” he continued, his voice now more hoarse and passionate. His close proximity was evident, especially from the echo through the phone. “I think you have the wrong number,” you replied, mimicking Casey’s exact tone. You mirrored the smirk Sam likely wore, even catching a faint chuckle from him on the other end.

“Do I?” His question was tempting, almost teasing, and you felt your cheeks warm at the thought of it. The idea of being chased made your pulse quicken—it was all fun and games, right? “It happens, take it easy,” you teased back, your voice playful through the phone.

By the time you hung up and slipped the phone back into your pocket, you tried to distract your mind, knowing it would ring again soon. Sam decided to venture further into the bunker. Since you weren't in the library or hiding in the kitchen, his third guess was your bedroom. He was right. Hearing your footsteps echo in the hallways, he hid in a nearby room, leaving the door slightly ajar to watch you. Then, he dialed your number again.

Just as you were about to distract yourself, the phone rang again. A sigh of frustration threatened to escape as you answered, a hint of annoyance in your voice. Sam's voice, like a lingering memory from the movie, played in your mind. "Hello," you said, and a smile crept onto Sam's face as he watched your obvious irritation, finding it oddly adorable. "I'm sorry, I think I dialed the wrong number," he said, hearing your scoff on the other end. "Then why did you dialed it again?" you retorted, teasingly, feeling as if Sam's voice was closer this time. The echoes of his voice through the phone were clearer now, indicating he was nearby.

"So why did you dial it again?" another scoff escaped you. "To apologize," he purred, his words causing your cheeks to blush a deeper shade of pink, a sight he didn't have time to fully appreciate. He noticed how your fingers hesitated on the phone, and how you tried to recall the exact lines. Which didn’t help, considering Sam's bulge began to be clearly visible under his Ghostface costume, and he knew he couldn't hold back much longer. "Bye now," you said, ending the call abruptly.

"Wait-Wait don't hang up," he pleaded, a smile playing at the corners of your lips, fully aware that Sam's act was just beginning. Who knew he had so many tricks up his sleeve? "I want to talk to you for a second," he added, chuckling. Oh, how he longed to hear your soft laugh, mimicking perfectly your role as the helpless victim. "You've got a hundred numbers for that. See ya," he replied before hanging up again.

Sam's arousal intensified, despite his efforts to resist. Watching you hang up the phone and walk away only fueled his desire. His breath grew heavier as his fingers traced down his body, nearing his pants, where he gripped his bulge. Tilting his head back, moaning your name, hoping you wouldn't come near his hiding place. However, his hopes were dashed when he noticed you leaving your room. If you were going to play your part, it meant heading to the kitchen to make popcorn.

He followed, keeping a distance in the hope of avoiding detection, until he found refuge in one of the closets. Dean was still asleep, and you were careful not to make much noise as you moved about. Sam couldn't help but stifle a laugh when you glanced over at his older brother, hoping not to wake him up. Another ring interrupted the silence. "Hello?" This time, your voice was slightly pitched, with an innocence that Sam found all too endearing. "Why don't you want to talk to me?" he asked, his tone slightly offended. You couldn't help but chuckle slightly at his pouty expression.

"Who is this?" you asked, feigning a slight fright, a part of the game Sam had confessed to enjoying a few days ago. "You tell me your name, I'll tell you mine," he countered. Another scoff escaped you. "I don't think so." Sam couldn't help but relish hearing you playfully act like a brat. It meant later, a punishment or two wouldn't hurt.

"What's that noise?" Sam asked, focusing this time on the sound of popping corn. "Popcorn," you replied, noticing his furrowed brows. "You're making popcorn?" he questioned. You hummed in agreement. "I only eat popcorn at the movies," he remarked, his voice now huskier, knowing it would turn you on. It worked, evidenced by the small mistake you made when your thumb touched the hot bag, causing you to curse softly to yourself. "I'm ready to watch a video," he added.

"Really? What?" Sam's voice carried a hint of temptation and curiosity as he noticed you approaching from the closet where he was hidden, only to grab the seasoning from the cupboard. He felt a sense of relief with the door closed, preventing the echo from the other end of the line from being heard. "Oh, just some scary movie," you replied, then returned to the kitchen, seasoning your popcorn while playing with the knife in your hand before placing it back on the counter. This little theatrics of yours made him curse under his breath, unable to resist as his other hand gently brushed against his arousal. "You like scary movies?" he purred seductively. "Uh, uh," was all you could manage in response.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" Sam asked eagerly.

"Uh... I don't know," your voice sounded like music to his ears. He patiently waited, longing to hear your voice practically beg for him.

"You have to have a favorite," he insisted. "What comes to mind?"

"Um... Halloween. You know, the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around and stalks babysitters. What's yours?" Your voice took on a flirtatious tone as you spoke, but you couldn't help but hesitate, mindful of Sam's surroundings.

"Guess," he replied, teasingly.

"Nightmare on Elm Street!" Sam chuckled, though it was actually your favorite movie, not his.

"Isn't that the guy with knives for fingers?" he said, stating the obvious, but your lips curved into a wicked grin. "Yes, Freddy Krueger!"

"Freddy, that's right! I like that movie. It was scary," he admitted.

"Well, the first one was, but the rest sucked," you hinted with a pout, now walking into the cupboard to grab a bowl. It was now or never for Sam.

"So..." he purred, hitting a teasing note. "You have a boyfriend?"

You scoffed, tilting your head upon hearing his voice. You knew then that Sam was in the same room as you, but where exactly remained a mystery. "Why, you want to ask me out on a date?" He grinned, smirking even as he forced his main focus back on you, resisting the urge to imagine you on your knees in front of him. "Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No," you replied, the attraction between the two of you evident. But somehow, Sam hadn't managed to fully express it yet. And if tonight was going to be the night, he knew he wasn't going to let the opportunity slip away easily.

"You never told me your name," he remarked.

"Why do you want to hear my name?" you countered.

"Because I want to know who I am looking at," he replied smoothly.

"What did you say?" Of course, it was all part of the theatrical play, but hearing the fear in your voice turned him on even more. "I want to know who I am talking to," you replied, your gaze then meeting the closet near the kitchen. As you approached it, Sam heard your footsteps, the door opening before you could, revealing his imposing figure towering over you. Pretending to be shocked, you tried to run away, but Sam had enough time to catch you.

"Boo, Got you,"

"No, no, no," he purred, leaning in to smell your scent, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. "You aren't getting away with it, doll," he said, his voice deeper than the one you were used to hearing on the phone. His fingers gently brushed against the bottom of your lip, then to his chin, making you look up at him. "How about you return the favor?"

"If you suck me off, then maybe, just maybe, you can be let go," he said, his eyes practically begging for compliance. It was evident when you nodded helplessly, and you could have sworn you felt his smirk beneath the mask. "Yes, sir—" you began, but his thumb went over your lips to correct you.

"It's Mr. Ghostface. From now on," he corrected firmly.

Your knees went weak, just enough for you to kneel down in front of him. You took the costume off as best as you could, lifting it over your head, and then proceeded to take his belt off. A gasp escaped your mouth as you did so.

"Forget how big it was, huh, princess?" he said with a cocky chuckle, his fingers managing to caress your hair as you held onto his hardened cock. Leaning in, you pressed a few kisses on the tip of it, your cheeks now flushing a shade of pink. "It's... so big," you said innocently. Just as you were about to take it into your mouth, Sam's hips guided you, thrusting his entire dick inside as he murmured your name. "That's it, babygirl. Do it for Mr. Ghostface," he encouraged, leaning back further and groaning with each thrust as your eyes watered from the motion. But he didn't care; he went faster and faster until he announced, "I'm about to cum. I'll fill my princess' mouth up. She needs to be fed properly."

And he did, splattering his cum in your mouth. When you were able to let go, you licked the remaining drips from the corners as he cupped your face, uncovering it from his costume, his eyes darkening. "Swallow it, love," he commanded, and you nodded in complete obedience. Just as you did, his lips curved into a wicked grin, and he leaned in to hungrily kiss you, leaving no time to breathe.

Let's just say you were both lucky when you heard Dean's groan, his sleepy face rubbing his eyes as he blinked twice at the sight of Sam dressed up and you with your lips completely sore, a hint of disgust showing on the oldest brother's face. "Are you kidding?" he exclaimed, making the youngest Winchester chuckle as he leaned in to kiss your lips once more. "You were asleep," Sam defended, not entirely wrong himself.

"Get a room!" Dean's obvious disgust made the two of you chuckle, knowing he wasn't entirely wrong either. The offer still stood, suggesting that Sam wasn't entirely finished with you. "Do not worry, big bro," Sam said, glancing toward Dean and then back to you, admiring your current state.

"I was planning on it."

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haydenchristensenslut · 1 month

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(this is my first time ever writing on here so please ignore any typos or stuff that makes no since i used to be a wattpad writer.. but enjoy! :)

sam winchester x fem!reader.

reader x sam confess they like each other after being bestfriend’s for years.

TW : fluff, a few cuss words, mentions of being hurt on a hunt, smut, p in v, eating out. (all i can think of.)

as you, sam & dean sit in the kitchen of the bunker looking for more ��evidence on sams computer to help your current hunt. you catch sam’s brown eyes looking at you, many times. its like his eyes are burning through you. dean breaks the silence and says

“guys, i think i have something. get in the impala.”

you and sam get up grabbing the same bag, your hands touch at the same time. he glances at you, his face red and flustered, speaking as he pulls his hand back.

“i-i-uhm- i”

you giggle at him as you grab the other bag of equipment going to get into the impala. time passes as you guys drive, dean blasting rock music and you staring at sam, him almost catching you as you look away. as you guys enter some random rusty old building when all of a sudden, the current demon you’ve been hunting with the boys comes out grabbing you, you scream for sam as tears fall down your face. he runs to you saying

“get the fuck away from her!”

the demon smirks chuckling saying

“i’ll do whatever i want.”

putting its hand to your throat choking you as you gasp for air, sam immediately feels his heart drop and aims his gun at the demon, dean comes up behind the demon shooting the demon. you drop to the floor, you look for sam and he grabs you picking you up in bridal style and asking a million questions going outside to the impala he immediately sits you down in the passenger seat asking

“are you okay? did you get hurt? i’m worried about you y/n.”

you look at him, aching in pain. you nod at him and he checks you, you’re fine just some aching pain and you could be patched up. he looks at you blushing.

“y/n.. can i talk to you?”

you look at him making eye contact and nod. he thinks before speaking knowing if he tells you this and you not liking him, he’ll lose you. he sighs as he starts to speak.

“y/n i like you, i’ve liked you since i’ve met you and i really really wanna be with you. i like you a lot and i wanna be your boyfriend. i know that we’ve been best friends for years and this could ruin our friendship. i really do like you, i love you.”

you’re shocked but not too shocked, he’d show signs he did, he was around you all the time, you’d exchange looks time by time, he’d look at your lips as you talked, admiring you. he liked you and you could tell, you liked him back too. you start to speak

“i like you too sam. a lot.

smiling. he starts to kiss you and pulls away

“so you’re my girlfriend? right?”

you smile and speak.

“yes sam, im your girlfriend.”

as you’re both making eye contact dean comes out of the building raising an eyebrow at sam wondering if he finally confessed his feelings for you.

“don’t start making out in my car, for the sake of me!”

sam scoffs rolling his eyes at deans remark, flustered. time passes and you, sam & dean are in the car in awkward silence going to the bunker. you glance at sam in the rear view mirror, as you go to speak he interrupts you asking with concern

“y/n is your neck okay?”

you look at sam as he asks looking back at you, you make eye contact smiling and nod at him as deans into the garage of the bunker, you go to open your door but sam has already had it open for you smiling. what a gentleman. he grabs your hand taking you inside, glancing at you admiring your features as everyone goes inside, sam takes his coat and shoes off carrying the equipment in as you follow behind taking your coat off along with your shoes going to the restroom.

washing your hands drying them off, you leave going to sam as you see him talking to dean and they look at you like they’ve been talking about you, sam flustered and deans eyebrow raised laughing at sam. you look at sam blushing

“sam, do you wanna watch a movie?”

you ask him, as dean gives sam an eyebrow and slapping his shoulder playful pushing him to you.

“y-yeah”

he says nervously rubbing the back of his neck going to you, as you two walk to his room he looks back at dean not knowing what to do to see dean turned back with his hands all over his back and making kissing noises. as you go to look back sam rolls his eyes at dean and pushes you gently in his room closing the door.

“sweetheart, what movie do you wanna watch?”

as he asks you what movie you want to watch, you start to think and realize you wanna watch ‘the notebook.’

“the notebook.”

he looks at you grabbing the remote to his tv turning the movie on. you sit on his bed as he said he’s going to get popcorn.

time passes by. you and sam are in bed watching the movie as he puts his hand on your upper thigh. you move closer to him, putting your leg around his. he gets flustered as you do so moving his hand down your leg. as the tension builds up sam looks down at you as you look back up leaning in kissing you, he grabs your waist moving you into his lap.

as he moves you into his lap you feel his dick getting harder against your arousal, he hungrily kisses you as he unbuttons your pants pulling them off you as he pulls away. he looks at you as he takes your shirt off along with his from the help of you.

sam grabs your hips as he flips you over on top of him. he looks at you, taking off your underwear throwing them on the floor. sam gets on his knees in front of you pushing you back by your legs, he opens your legs putting them on his shoulders and starts kissing your thighs going in to your heat kissing and sucking. you gasp moaning as he does so.

you tug on his hair as his grip on your thighs tightly keeping them open as he eats you out, sucking and licking on your heat. you moan as he sticks a finger in your hole, slowly at first going faster as he puts another in. grunts leaving his mouth as he fingers and eats you out, you moan arching your back as he does so.

as he feels you going closer to your orgasm he stops, pulling his fingers out and looking at you. you whine breathing heavily. he unbuckles his belt, removing his clothes looking at you as he kisses you gently. he grabs your waist positioning his tip to your hole, looking up at you for approval you nod as he pushes in you.

moans and grunts, skin slapping takes up the room. he goes faster as he fondles with your breast, he licks your nipples as he goes faster in you grunting. your walls tightening around his dick, as you feel yourself getting closer. he rubs your clit fucking you. you gasp and say

“i cant, sam! i’m cumming!”

you saying going dumb from his dick, he grunts as he feels you cumming on his dick, he lets you ride your high as he pulls out cumming on your stomach. he falls down beside you breathing heavily. grabbing your hand, as he says

“you are okay?”

you nod in reply breathing heavily. sam goes to his bathroom grabbing a wash rag cleaning you up, he smiles admiring you praising you as he does so with words. sam grabs your hand laying with you cuddling. you lay on his chest and he rubs your back smiling as he says.

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

you reply back, time passes and you’re both asleep after the exhausting day and night.

thank you for reading i know this wasn’t really good!! but i’d appreciate requests!! :) love u all 💗

#sam winchester #supernatural #dean winchester #new writers on tumblr #castiel #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #moots?#moots #fluff #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fluff #cuties #x yn #x reader

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patrickispinky · 8 months

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Therapist: Mr.Winchester, your life isnt a movie.

Sam: i hope its a short film

Therapist: ....

#spn #spn incorrect quotes #inccorect quotes #sam winchester #dean winchester #yn #pov #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader

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iamleesi · 2 months

Text

THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader

Summary: You were rescued from Hydra and then joined the Avengers. Bucky seems to hate you and you’re sent on a mission together for indefinite time.

Warnings: Mention of experiments, torture and d3ad bodies and things like that. Don’t read if you’re not comfortable with that. Bucky being a bit of an asshole towards you. Also the reader has a name and a last name if that counts as a warning?

Other: This will be some sort of MCU x Supernatural fic. English isn’t my fist language so I apologize in advance for any mistake I made. -> 18+ !!

-> Masterlist

-> Part two

-> Hydra is home (01)

You were born in hell. That’s what Hydra was for you and for everyone who had witnessed the horrors of what happened inside the walls of that place - and there was more than one facility. The worst part is that you didn’t even know, you thought it was normality.

You thought it was normal being used and trained to be a lethal assassin at a young age; you were the youngest and they made you feel special for that. Hydra’s perfect child, that’s how they called you. The only toy you’ve ever had was a knife, and you never questioned it or thought it was horrifying up until you were an adult.

From the earliest age, you were taught that your suffering served a greater purpose, that your pain was going to save that fucked up world you lived in. Not that you had any idea of which color the sky was up until you were six, let alone knowing the rest of the world and it’s shit. You knew no other life besides the walk between your room and the laboratory - the place where you were tied up to those cold metal tables under the gaze of Hydra’s scientists.

But to you, that was normality. That was home, the place you were the safest in - they said. Hydra fed you lies all your life, making you think their atrocities were for the greater good and that you were needed. What they were doing was needed.

Worst thing? You never complained. Always complied.

You learned later on in years that you were being used to recreate a better Super Soldier serum, like the one they used on Captain America and The Winter Soldier. A better, more effective serum that was gonna give them their disciplined weapon, with a few more characteristics. It was a mystery how you survived, to you and to everyone who took a look in your DNA.

They made you a freak.

When you were fifteen, things changed and your whole world turned upside down. It was in the middle of the night that you heard the facility’s alarm, the loud and scary sound meant one thing: bad people had broke in. So you did as you practiced: you moved the rug on floor and used that safety trapdoor to hide, hoping that they wouldn’t find you.

Meanwhile, SHIELD agents were storming in every room of the base, looking for either survivors or Hydra members.

Your heart stopped when the little door above you swung open and you saw a masked man pointing a rifle at you. Hydra was right, you decided then, those were bad people. You don’t exactly remember what happened after, you don’t remember if you tried to fight them or if you passed out. Everything is a blur memory.

What you do remember next, though, is being taken to yet another facility. In the beginning all you could see were monsters who wanted to feed you lies; they said Hydra was bad, that they were a terroristic organization who aimed to rule the world. Crazy, wasn’t it?

Hydra was home.

You didn’t collaborate with them for years, not even when Maria Hill offered you visive proof of how fucked up Hydra was. It was impossible that all you knew, all that you’ve been taught was a lie.

But there was another part: the pain stopped. No more experiments or missions to catch the bad guys with the little help all those samples gave you. No more blood or guns or atrocities - nothing.

Many people amongst SHIELD agents only saw you as just another freak, but weaker than Captain America and with a twisted brain. They saw you as no more than just another Hydra experiment, one that could not be good. You had no name, no family, no friends - you were just existing… and for what? You yourself didn’t know.

Nick Fury was the one who was interested in you. You had heard his name being mentioned a few times before actually meeting him. Perhaps it was just because you had some sort of Super Soldier serum in you and he was only caring for that, but he stepped in and helped you whether you wanted or not.

And he succeeded.

He saw beyond those scars, visible and invisible, recognizing the potential you could have as an actual human being. Fury insisted in your rehabilitation, and with time he saw the first results.

It took you a lot of time and effort to feel like a human being for the first time in 23 years, it wasn’t an easy process by any means and you still weren’t a hundred percent okay with everything. Being told that for fifteen years of you life you were nothing more than a sack of meat with a functioning brain for people to use to their advance wasn’t exactly ideal, especially after learning that it wasn’t normal as you thought.

At first you didn’t even realize how fucked up it was, perhaps you didn’t want to.

But under SHIELD’s care, you started to heal both physically and mentally as best as you could. You were given a name as soon as you were rescued, but you didn’t accept it up until you were 20.

Emma Dayne, that was your new legal name as a free woman. One that had a say in her own life.

That was the name Fury used when you were brought into the Avengers Compound as the newest addition to the team. You, a superhero? Sometimes you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Those people fought against the very same people you called family, those same people who raised you. Thankfully, they never held you accountable for that.

Except him.

James Buchanan Barnes. When he looked at you, all he saw was the enemy: someone who, unlike him, had willingly served Hydra for more than half of her life. He made it clear from the start that he didn’t trust you, he was always cold (which wasn’t rare, but even colder with you) and guarded whenever you were around.

Whenever his eyes found your figure, he couldn’t shake off the memories of his past as the Winter Soldier. The feeling of loss for the years that were stolen from him and that life he could never go back to came back as soon as he saw you, and he started to loathe the sight of you - he felt even worse when he saw how much the other teammates liked you.

But you could not blame him. Not even a bit. You took his silence as a reminder of what you had done - maybe if you had opened your eyes sooner you could have done something, anything, to help him.

After all, you two weren’t completely strangers. You both had worked for the same organization, and you saw him from time to time - you felt guilty. As soon as you saw the hatred in his eyes, when you joined the team, you were consumed by guilt.

But then again, the last time you saw him you were eleven. Super Soldier or not, you were a kid. Your therapist - saint woman - was helping you with that, at least. You knew that earning his trust was gonna take time, and maybe a lifetime wasn’t enough - you knew that in his position you would have been the same. Perhaps his trust wasn’t even your goal, you didn’t know what you wanted from him. You just knew that every time his eyes fell on you, you felt small. Smaller than a bug, and you wanted to change that.

You wanted him to know that you weren’t the enemy he thought you were.

It was a Saturday afternoon when Tony Stark’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, contemporarily snapping his fingers to get your attention. “Dayne, stop thinking about princesses and unicorns. I need your attention, sweetie.”

“Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts.” You replied, crossing your legs under the big, round wooden table. You were in the meeting room with the other Avengers - most of them, anyways, and their eyes were all on you. Not judging, some had smiles on their faces.

Except one who wasn’t even looking at you.

“Happens to the best of us too.” He shrugged it off, pointing at himself with a grin. Usual. “But seriously, now I need everyone’s attention or I fear Fury might kill me.” He continued.

“What’s the situation, Tony?” Steve Rogers inquired, his usual serious expression on.

Tony leaned forward on the table, after he sat down as well, clasping his hands together. “We’ve been getting reports of Hydra activity in various parts of the States.” He explained. “Specifically, they’ve been targeting civilians. They’re kidnapping them for, what we suspect, making experiments. They’re targeting people with no family, no friends or someone who wouldn’t look for them. They found the first body near the Donner Lake, in California. The first we were able to identify, at least.”

A picture of a woman appeared on a screen behind Tony, and he continued. “Taylor Harris. She was their first slip- up, as the woman had an ex husband and a kid. He divorced her because apparently she had an addiction to drugs and was physically abusive towards the kid. Ever since then, he got a restraining order against her and the full custody of the kid. Should have gone to jail but she went missing. She actually got missing three weeks ago, and she’s been presumably dead for at least a week.”

“What makes us think this is Hydra?” Clint said, his voice stern. The man had tried to retire about six times and yet there he was. “America is full of psychopaths.”

“True.” Tony nodded. “But they made some tests and traces of the Super Soldier serum was found. If it’s not Hydra, then I don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

“I thought they had the Super Soldier serum already.” Thor frowned, his mighty Mjolnir always by his side. “Why are they kidnapping people?”

“They had something else. They weren’t able to recreate it after they used it on Bucky.” You said, looking at the God. “They tried everything to come close to it, but pretty much all the subjects they experimented on died. Some turned into… things. And eventually got killed when they didn’t comply. I was the only result they had.”

“So… they want another you.” Thor looked at you.

You shrugged. “They want a lot of things. Probably they’re looking forward to make something that can’t break out of their control.”

“If you were ever out of their control.” You heard him mumble those words under his breath, but no one else seemed to hear. You were used to it by now, so you stayed silent as the conversation between the Avengers went on.

“So what do we do?” Natasha sighed, crossing her arms under her chest. Both her feet on the table as it was a habit of her it seemed.

“We send undercover agents.” Tony answered. “The agents being you.” He gestured to the whole room. “Or half of you, the ones suited for the job.” He added.

“Great.” Clint grunted.

“Natasha and Clint, you’re assigned to Las Vegas, Nevada - don’t look at me like that. Fury’s orders.” Tony pointed at the annoyed may sat next to Natasha. All he wanted was some time to play golf, and he was always called in for a new mission. He couldn’t even hear properly anymore.

“Steve and Sharon, you lovebirds are going to Denver, Colorado.” He went on, reading the pair of agents from his phone. “Yelena and Kate, have fun in Lawrence, Kansas.“

“And then… oh. Emma and James, you’re going to Lincoln, Nebraska.” Tony put his phone down. “Sam is momentarily busy in California where they found the body, so for now this is everything. You guys will find other agents there, you’ll meet them once you arrive.”

“Why these cities?” Bucky asked, clenching his jaw. This was the first mission where he was paired up with you, and he didn’t like it one bit. But knowing Fury, there was nothing he could do to change it.

“Because that’s where SHIELD suspects Hydra’s activity. There are some bodies that have been found specifically in these places, they’re unrecognizable and have been there for longer than poor Taylor. They believe they have undercover agents there, so that’s who you have to find.” Tony answered, chewing some cashews he kept in his pockets. For some reason.

“When do we have to leave?” Yelena asked, snatching some cashews from Tony’s hands.

He glared at her before answering. “You’re needed there Monday morning already, I fear. You have today and tomorrow to pack your things and get out of my sight.” He got up from his chair. “Have fun, fellas.”

“Wait a second, what about me?” Wanda asked as Tony was about to leave the room.

“You’re the backup plan, Granger.” Tony chuckled at his own nickname for Wanda. “So are we. They find them, we step in to take them down. Plus I need someone to punch Loki in the face in case he tries something, you’re the only one strong enough to do it.”

“Hey!” Thor sounded offended. “Not the only one!”

“This place is awful.” Loki mumbled.

“Then leave.” Clint scoffed.

“You’re dismissed, children.” Tony walked out. “Try not to stab each other.”

“And boring too.” Loki added.

* * * *

“You’re supposed to fold your clothes before putting them into the bag.” Bucky’s voice remarked dryly, taking your attention away from your bag.

He was leaning against the doorframe of your room, looking at you sternly. As always.

“Thanks for the tip, Barnes.” You retorted, messily throwing a pair of pants inside the bag. You weren’t really having it, ever since you learned that Hydra was kidnapping people to do to them what they did to you. Except that those people had a life before. “What do you want?”

He walked into your room without even asking for permission and tossed a stack of paper on your bed. “The details of this mission and our fake identities, wifey.” He sounded quite calm but you could see he was pissed about it, he always was when it came to you. “Thought you may want to take a look.”

“Uh?” You frowned at the unusual nickname, picking up the papers and reading as fast as you could, until your eyes landed on the role you had to play.

His wife.

What a joke.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, as you felt his burning eyes on you. It’s nothing you haven’t done before with Sam or even Pietro, but pretending to love him and be all affectionate with him in public when this was the longest conversation you’ve ever had? That was gonna be interesting, to say the least.

He nodded and turn around to walk out, but before he actually left he couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “One wrong move is all I need, Dayne.” He said, and that sounded like a threat.

Your eyes narrowed, a mixture of frustration and anger bubbling within you. “If I wanted to screw you guys over I would have done it already. It’s been a year, Sergeant, I believe you could trust me by now. Or at least start to.”

“Trust is earned, not given.” He replied, his tone leaving no room for arguments. “And you haven’t earned mine.”

“I’ll fucking live with it.”

“Have a good night.” He said without meaning it in the slightest, before leaving you to yourself once again.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Bucky Barnes was your personal headache.

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cheynovak · 6 months

Text

My brother's best friend

Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: smut 16+, jealousy,...

Side note: English isn’t my first language.

Words: 3538

Y/N and Sam known each other from college, Y/N introduced him to Jess. Sam considered her to be one of his best friends. While the brothers are on a hunt she ran into them, they decide to ask her for help. Dean at first doesn’t trusts her but the more he sees Sam hanging out with her the more he starts to appreciate her. Until he realises, he might actually have feelings for the normal girl who seems to be only interested or liking his younger brother.

*note: Picture this in the early seasons with a time jump. The story may not always follow the supernatural timeline*

*Not my GIF*

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

Sam and Dean were sitting at the diner, while Dean was stuffing his face with what he claimed to be the best burger ever, Sam was trying to find out where these symbols came from. “I’m telling you Dean we need to go talk to an expert about these hieroglyphics.” Dean looked annoyed “And I think those have nothing to do with this case Sam. Just a werewolf haunting that farm.”

“Sam? Sam Winchester is that you?” The brothers looked up towards the sound of her voice. “Oh, hi Y/N.” He stood up and gave her a hug. “Dude, do you ever stop growing!” She joked while accepting the tallest Winchester’s hug. Sam laughed “Sit down with us. How are you, w-what are you doing here?”

“Well, I eh...” Y/N noticed the confused face Dean was making at her and Sam. “Oh, Dean this is Y/N a friend from college, Y/N this is Dean my older brother.” - “Hi nice to meet you.” Y/N said. “Yeah, hi.” Dean answered still a little confused. Y/N turned back to Sam. “So, I eh am looking for a new job. Todd and I left California after I graduated, you remember him, right?” Sam nodded “I became a history and art-history teacher at the local high school in Reno. But eh, Todd and I split up a couple of months ago, and I have been on a self-empowering road trip ever since. But I’m running out of money so, hence the job search.”

“Y/N, here major History back at Stanford.” Sam said exited to Dean, “And did an extra course in art history.” Y/N told Sam. While Dean made a oh really, I don’t care look. “So, eh what about you?” She turned back to Sam. “Kind of the same, road trip since...” He answered quiet looking down. Y/N grabbed his hand. “I miss her too.” She said sincerely. Dean broke the silents “Well, I’m going to...” He pointed to the restrooms. “Your brother doesn't seem to like me.” Y/N said while following Dean with her eyes. “He’s just not good with meeting new people.” They talked a little more, Dean walked back from the toilets seeing his brother laugh at something Y/N just said. When he got to the table Y/N stood up. “Well, it was really nice to see you again Sam.” Y/N wrote something on a napkin. “If you are planning on staying in town a little longer... and you want to, I don’t know, talk or hang out, text me, here is my new number.” She hugged Sam goodbye and threw a cute little smile at Dean.

“Do you ever stop growing” Dean said in a high-pitched voice mocking Y/N while walking to the car. “Really Dean? Y/N is a nice person, she was the first friend I had at Stanford, she introduced me to Jess.” “Well, if she is so great maybe she can help you with your little riddle.” he pointed to his laptop bag. Sam rolled his eyes “For once a girl doesn’t flirt with you but talks to me instead and you get all fuzzed.” - “I’m not fuzzed Sammy, I’m cautious, I don’t know her, I don’t trust her.”

Later that night.

Dean heard a knock on the motel room door. He answered it with a gun against back of the door, while Sam was sitting on his bed trying to find out more about the symbols.

“Y/N? What are you doing here.” “Eh, Sam texted me? He needed help with something he said.” Y/N looked Dean up and down, “may I come in or do I need to help him out here?” Dean looked at Sam taking a step back. “Didn’t think you would text me this quick. Missed me already?” She joked taking of her jacket. “No, eh I wanted you to take a look at these symbols.” He turned his laptop to Y/N. “Hieroglyphics, you asked me to come here to look at hieroglyphics?” She looked confused at the youngest brother.

They both heard Dean chuckle. Smooth move Sammy, he thought, text the girl an address of a motel she would immediately think she was needed for her brains. Y/N took a seat next to Sam on his bed. “What do you need to know?” She crossed her legs. “Well, can you translate these or find out what they mean?” - “If I have the right tools yeah sure, but not out of the top of my head. Why do you guys need to know this?” She looked back and forward between the brothers. Dean sighs he got up “Just tell me what you need, I’ll get it.” Y/N made a list with books she needed. With Dean gone she turned to Sam again looking for an explanation. After a little push from her Sam told Y/N about the family business and the latest case.

Within the hour Dean got back presenting the books she needed. “How did you get these?” - “The library.” - “At this hour?” - “Don’t ask.” He smiled his perfect grin at her. Dean took a seat in the chair at the table watching his brother and Y/N working like a perfect team. But after a while Sam dozed off leaven just Y/N to research. By morning both of the brothers were asleep. “GOT IT” Y/N yelled, waking Dean and Sam up very abrupt. “Hear this, it’s some old Egyptian curse or spell to trap the god Anubis. He was usually represented as a jackal or as a man with the head of a jackal. Their association with death and funerals comes from jackals scavenging around cemeteries. Now the strange part is that Anubis normally cares about the desisted, he was like the patron god for embalmers. He wasn’t a murderer.”

“Jackal, that would explain the bite marks and removing the heart.” Dean said to Sam. ‘How do we break the spell.” Sam asked Y/N “I don’t know, I never knew gods excited, let alone you could trap them!” Y/N said panicking slightly. “But, eh fun fact, the heart is key in Egyptian culture, it needs to be pure. When someone dies Anubis weighs it and if it’s light enough, they could go to Yaru, pretty much their heaven. If it’s heavier they feed you to Ammit.” She looked at the boys then continued. “The eh spells normally is carved on the skin of the person who tries to control Anubis, to tie him down on their own flesh, but that only works until they die. But these are carved on property.” Dean packed his bag, we need to get to that farm before any more people get hurt. “You.” He pointed at Y/N, “find out how to stop this.”

A little later Sam’s phone rang. The boys were still in the car. ”Y/N, you’re on speaker.”

“There is no way to kill this god, but there is a way to stop him. You need to find who carved those symbols. He or she needs to use their own blood to undo the curse. They need to wipe their blood over the symbol and pray to Anubis to weight their heart as a sacrifice for the dead he caused, I’ll send you the translated text. Then you need to burn that spell before someone else uses it or copies it.

After a long time, the brothers came back to the motel room. Y/N got up, “D-did it work?” She asked unsure of her translation skills. Dean nodded. “Good work Y/N.” Sam said. They all sat down for a second. Only now the reality started to kick in. “So, all the fairytales and horror stories are, real.” Y/N said defeated looking at her feet. “Well, before I go, is there a 101 starters kit I need to travel with from now on?” She asked lifting her up from the bed. Dean laughed for the first time sincere and handed you the salt. “What is this?” Y/N looked confused at him. “I’ll explain it on the way to your car.” Sam smiled. “Maybe... Y/N needs to sleep first before hitting the road.” Dean interrupted. “She had been working day and night.”

That was the start of them working together. It started out as an occasionally call to Y/N for information or a translation. Even Dean started to call her for help, or that is what he says to himself. The boys recent found the bunker. “Well, I know who would be thrilled with this archive.” Dean said looking over to his brother. “You mean Y/N? Why don’t you invite her? I’m sure you would like to see her again.” Sam said, knowing very well his brother liked her a little more than he would admit. “Pff, she is your friend, you call her.” He said trying to brush it off. “Are you sure?” Sam asked grinning, holding his phone out to Dean. “Ok, fine.” He huffed taking the phone.

“SAMMY! It’s been too long, how are you friendly giant!” Y/N answered her phone way more enthusiastic than when she answerers Dean’s calls. “Eh, no it me.” Dean answered feeling jealous. “Oh, hi Dean, is everything ok?” Y/N asked worried. “Yes, why wouldn’t it be?” - “You’re calling with Sam phone?” - “Oh yeah, no I eh, we were just talking and... would you like to come over? If you have nothing better to do off course.” - ”Sure, text me the address.” They hang up the phone. And before Dean could turn around his brother laughed “Smooth, very smooth Dean.” - “You shut up!” The older brother answered angry and embarrassed.

Y/N parked her car, the brothers were already waiting for her outside. Dean looked at her, she was smiling from ear to ear when she walked towards Sam pulling him in a tight hug. She really likes him he thought. “How are ya?” she asked him while giving Dean a hug too. “We’re good, found ourselves a new home.” The young brother answered - “Ooh, house tour!” She said while wrapping her arm around Sam like an old couple. Dean rolled his eyes while walking behind them.

You walk into the archive “Wow, this is really something!” She said with her eyes sparkling. “Well, I’m going to leave you two nerds to it. I’ll make dinner.” Dean said quietly leaving the room. “What’s up with him?” She asked Sam. He has been through a lot lately. “Hm, want me to talk to him later?” She asked him, still looking at the empty door, Dean walked out of. “No, he will be alright. Give him some time.” Dean’s mind started to float back to their last hunt. He was stupid enough to go hunt a djinn by himself and got captured. He couldn’t stop thinking about the dream.

Dean woke up in a warm bed, the sun came through the windows of the room. It took him a second to remember where he was when all of the sudden, he felt a hand pulling around his waist. “Good morning handsome.” The female voice said to his ear. His eyes got big as he turned around seeing Y/N in bed next to him. She kissed his lips with a soft touch before crawling into his arms resting her head against his shirt. Dean smiled softly not knowing what happened last night but liking the outcome of it. “Even though I would like nothing more than to stay in your arms, we need to get ready.” Y/N said kissing his chest breaking his trail of thoughts. “Why?” - “Sam invited us remember?” She looked up at him. “You forgot, didn’t you?” He smiled shyly.

He watched her walking to the bathroom in a little babydoll dress admiring her curves. “Stop staring Winchester, get ready.” He heard her yell.

Dean and Y/N pulled up at Sam’s place, Dean couldn’t believe his eyes. His parents and Jess were talking in the living room before they noticed them walking in. “Ah, there he is, aways the last one to arrive.” His dad said. “How are you holding up with him?” He joked pointing at Dean. “Barely.” Y/N answered in the same tone. ”No refunds.” John laughed. “Dinner is served.” Jess announced. before Dean could answer. Even though it was strange seeing you at the same table as his parents he liked it. “Eh, guys, we have an announcement.” Sam lifted his voice. Jess took his hand.” I’m pregnant.” Everyone was over the moon, but Dean couldn’t help but feeling out of this world.

Sam and John were talking, still sitting at the table. While Dean decided to get a refill on his beer. He heard Jess, his mom and Y/N talk during the dishes. “So, what about you guys? Still no ring I see.” his mom asked.” Y/N didn’t answer but he could see her face. “Is Dean ever going to be ready to settle down?” Jess asked Mary. “I don’t know, Y/N and Dean have been together how long know?” She asked Y/N. “Next summer, 3 years.” Y/N answered loading in the plates. “He is quiet today, I don’t know what’s going on.” - “I noticed too; he isn’t half as handsy as he is normally. He didn’t even hold his hand on your thigh or kissed you yet.” Jess said. Dean walked in pretending not to have heard anything they said. Y/N stood next to the fridge, he placed his hand on her lower back and kissed her temple before getting another beer.

Once home Dean took off his clothes and stepped in the shower, he felt a fresh wind of air against his back before he felt Y/N’s hands around his ribs, her face against his shoulder. “What’s wrong Dean?” He heard the worries is her voice. His heart bounced almost out of his chest. He turned around seeing her completely naked for the first time. His lips moved to hers, the kiss became quickly more passioned. Their hands moving to discover each other's body... Dean didn’t want to hold back he wanted to feel every inch of her. He took her hands and moved back, she looked worried. “Shower sex, to complicated.” He said while pulling her in the bedroom. “He is back” she smiled while he dropped her in the bed hovering over her. He lifted her leg, stroking her thigh with his rough fingers before entering her smoothly. "Oh, Dean..."

“Dean?” He almost jumped hearing his name. “Did you just flinch?” Y/N said trying not to laugh. “Anything I can help you with?” He tried to forget he just daydreamed about them being intimate. “I need your help.” She said while leaning back at the kitchen table looking at him. “I’m sure Sam could help you out. Little busy here. Food, dinner you know.” He said smiling over his shoulder, desperately trying to avoid turning to her since his dream had wakened an erection. “Dean, I need you, Sam can’t help me.” She was persistent. He sights. “Fine, I’m following you.”

Y/N walked to the garage. “Really? You need me to take a look at your car?” He said looking at her, she nodded fast. “Sam knows a thing or two about cars.” He said but still opening the hood “Well, I only trust you with my car, since she is a classic.’ Throwing him the keys to her ‘70 mustang. Dean started the car, looked under the hood. ”I don’t hear or see anything wrong.” He said after a while, turning the cars off still sitting in the front seat. Y/N sat next to him on the passenger's seat facing him. “There isn’t anything wrong with the car.” He looked puzzled at her. “I know my girl inside out; I know how to take care of her. But there is something with you.” She pointed her finger at him. “And you... I don’t know so well to fix.” Dean kept looking in her eyes, thinking “Damn that sounded hot.”

“So, tell me.” She pushed. “Nothing wrong.” - “Dean, stop lying to me or yourself. You act like I'm a stranger...” He stepped out of the car closing the hood. “Dean what did I do?” - “You didn’t do anything.”- ‘Then why are you acting so strange lately?” Dean started to walk towards the exit. “Hey! Don’t walk away from me!” She pulled his arm to make him stop. He turned to her, pushing her against the side of her car holding her shoulders. She locked eyes with him, for the first time seeing every tint of green before he dipped down kissing her deep, holding her head in his hands. When he took a step back, she felt dizzy, holding on to his flannel still looking at his eyes. “Now you know.” he said out of breath. When she didn’t answer immediately, he started to get nervous. “But I –I know... how you... You know your feelings for Sam so. Don’t worry, ok.”

Y/N pulled Dean closer kissing him again. Moving her hands under his flannel shirt to his neck and shoulders. Dean placed a hand on her side and one the top of the car, completely covering Y/N with his body. The kiss got hot and heavy really quick. Both stripping from their clothes, Y/N pushed Dean in the passenger seat while he pulled her in, straddling his lap. She held his head in her hands kissing, his tongue followed hers. His hand steady on her back while she grinded his hips for friction. A moan escaped her lips, when she felt him already hard against her clothed slit. His hand moved down in her panties, humming feeing they were already soaked, dipping two fingers in and out of her, wetting his fingers before softly started to rub his fingers over her clit. Moving a little lower placing his fingers inside her again while his thumb worked on her clit. Making her fall against his shoulder moaning his name.

He kissed her neck and ear. “Protection?” He asked breathless. “Glovebox.” She answered with her lips still in his neck. He moved his hand making Y/N whimper and dipped a little forward to reach for the condom. She moved away a little to take off his boxers and her panties, pumping his dick a few more times while he tried to open the packaging, her touch making it hard for him to focus. Once all wrapped up, she lowered herself on him. Moaning his name as she felt every inch stretching. Dean looked at her like a man enchanted with his plump lips parted as she started to move. The palm of his hand on the end of her thighs his fingers spread over her flesh, holding her steady against him.

“Oh Dean...” she whimpered in his ear. He could feel she was close to an orgasm. “I got you... Let go.” He said when his hand moved down to where they were connected, drawing circles on her clit. Y/N’s head felt back making it easier for Dean to look at her when she rode out her orgasm on is dick. “So fucking beautiful.” He whispered. The feeling of her tightening around him made it impossible for him to go on any longer. He pulled his arms around her while he groans against her neck and shoulder. Both of them out of breath, but neither moved. Dean looked in her eyes again moving a piece of hair out of her face. “Was not expecting that.” He laughed “Next time, talk to me before assuming I like someone else.” Y/N hit his chest with the back of her hand.

They started to get dressed outside of the car. “So eh, is this a one-time thing?” Dean asked a little nervous. Y/N smiled flirty while walking to the door? “Wait, what does that mean.” He yelled. “Talk to me more, you will figure out.” He ran after her holding her against the door. “I've got plenty of time now.” He kissed her. “I don’t think so.” -” Why not?” - “Dean, I smell something burning.” She said in a honey sweet voice. Dean pushed her aside while he ran to the kitchen.

Sam held up the pots and pans that were burned while the both of you ran in the kitchen. “Next time before you two... You know what, I don’t even want to know, but make sure to turn off the stove Dean.”

“So, Pizza it is?” Y/N asked not being able to contain her laugh.

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

#fanfic #fluff #dean winchester #smut #spn #supernatural #sam and dean #sam winchester #spnfandom #the winchester brothers #x yn #y/n

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happy74827 · 2 years

Text

Playing Hero

[Dean Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After getting into a petty argument with the Winchester brother, an incident occurs which changes both of your perspectives.

WC: 1,510

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff, TW - Drowning

If you enjoyed, don’t be afraid to comment and reblog!! Feedback is much appreciated.

『••✎••』

It was rather… serene. Standing and sitting in the dark abyss. Your eyes were closed, taking the moment in. The pain came only temporarily, struggling to free yourself, but now… now it was peaceful.

Your mind stopped moving miles a minute. Only focused on this moment. No memories were flashing, no pictures of what’s to come or what should’ve been. You finally felt like you've come home after years of being away.

Just before, you were on a hunt with Dean. Well… you weren’t on the hunt but rather getting information for it, wearing your best disguise as you got out of his Impala.

Usually Sam would tag along and put his Harvard manipulating skills to use, but he stayed behind to do research. That left you with the one and only:

Dean Winchester.

Except he was angry and pissed off at you, again.

The entire way there you rode in silence, not a single word was said due to him still pissed at you for eating his leftover bacon burger. It was rather childish for a twenty-six-year-old, but it was Dean. He was always on the immature side when you weren’t hunting.

A saddened smile was bestowed on his lips for the grieving woman you were approaching, while he was completely ignoring your existence.

You fell silent, unsure of what to do since Dean had taken over the entire conversation. He didn’t allow even a word to slip out of your mouth.

All because of that damn burger.

Of course, you apologized. You believe the count is at five now, but being the asshole he was, he chose to be petty and not accept it. Obviously, you didn’t know it was his burger, you figured it was leftover lunch they brought to the motel for you.

Apparently—fucking—not.

“I’ll be by the lake,” You finally spoke up, “I’ll check if anything is suspicious.”

Of course, it was complete bullshit. You just didn’t want to be around Dean’s aura at the moment. Him being pissed at you was one of the worst things ever, mostly due to the fact he never gets over it. If you had eaten Sam’s burger, you could just buy him another one and all would be forgiven. But nope! Dean has to be an ass about it.

So, there you were on the pier, watching longingly as Dean comforted the woman by himself. You were wishing that he’d eventually get over the burger, so you all could move on from this childish argument, when you heard it.

A soft whistle, almost like a gust of wind brushing past you in lightning speed.

“The hell…?” You questioned softly to yourself, looking around to see if you could witness anything that could even remotely produce the sound.

You didn’t find the source, but it found you.

Within a second, you found yourself clinging to the pier by your hands, your leg being pulled underwater. Shit.

“D-Dean!” You yelled, your eyes focusing on the man away from you. He was the last person you wanted to call, but being on the verge of death, you put the bullshit aside. “A little help here?!”

A nail popped loose from the board you were desperately hanging on to. It was only a matter of time before it would pop off entirely. A groan escaped your lips as you tried to kick whatever the thing that had latched onto your ankle was, but it wouldn’t budge. In fact, the thing's grip got firmer with each kick.

“Dean!” This time you screamed as loud as you could, another nail popping loose. “Dean, Please!?”

Finally, at this, he turned his head. His eyes were searching to find the source, the grieving mother followed his gaze in pursuit. With one last scream of his name, his eyes hooked on to yours.

You watched that anger and hatred from before wash away with worry. The notebook he held, writing down what the lady had witnessed, flew to the ground as he started to bolt towards your direction. But he was too far.

Before he could even hop the wooden fence, the board popped loose which immediately retracted into your face. You could feel the iron of your blood in your mouth, your eyes becoming hazy as you were pulled under.

In an attempt to save yourself, you pulled out your silver switchblade in your pocket and immediately started slashing and stabbing. You didn’t expect it to go away, but it did, making you realize that it was a ghost you were hunting.

That was the last thing you remembered before it went mute. You were in the quiet place now, drifting as the current pulled you along.

As you were drifting, falling deeper into the abyss, you suddenly felt a pressure around your abdomen. The pressure lifting you up, as if you were flying, until a ringing noise appeared. An annoying ringing tone that didn’t go away whatsoever. You wanted to groan, as it disrupted your peaceful paradise, but you couldn’t.

Once your ears had gotten used to it, another noise disrupted your paradise.

Thump. A loud vibration tickled your ears, applying pressure to your chest. It wasn’t as annoying as the ringing, but it came in threes.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It never stopped.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It was like a broken record, repeating the same vibrations every few seconds. As if it couldn’t get worse, it did. Muffles of pitches that you couldn’t make out started to appear.

It was two pitches. One was one higher and hoarse, like the person had a terrible sore throat. It talked in long sentences, letting out a shriek ever-so-often.

The other, however, was deeper. Much deeper. It spoke in a gruff, masculine voice, repeating the same muffle every time.

“Come on.” It repeated, “Come on.”

You wanted it to stop, you wanted to scream for the loudness to go away. But once your mouth opened, there was only a single thing left...

Pain.

Your chest had completely caved in, all sorts of pain shooting at you in all directions. Your legs, your arms, your head, your back… everything was aching.

You found yourself choking severely, praying for the pain to go away. A hand found its place on the small of your back, lifting you up gently. The gesture caused water to spurt out everywhere on the grass from your mouth.

It was disgusting, yet the hand only gave you pats of encouragement.

“There you go,” The voice whispered, “cough it all out.”

It was Dean. It had been him the entire time. The pressure around your abdomen, the thumps of vibration on your chest… it was all him.

He saved your life.

Your hands found his shoulders, steadying yourself. He only smiled —in relief that is — grabbing hold of your arms.

He was completely drenched head to toe, his “fancy” suit now nowhere to be found. His tie was undone, the familiar necklace that he never took off in plain sight. His voice pulled you into reality, “Hey, you alright?”

This was karma for that damn burger.

“Y-yeah, I-I’m fine.” You panted, “thank you.”

He smiled again — a genuine one at that. His eyes told you that the burger was completely off his mind. Not even a flicker of anger was left.

You stared into his eyes a little longer than you should’ve, but you couldn’t help it. It’s been a whole two days of him giving you the cold shoulder and nasty glares. Seeing him relieved and rather joyous at you was an expression you wanted to stay.

“What… the hell… was that?!” The familiar shriek of the grieving woman had made the both of you jump, snapping both of your heads to stare at her wide-eyed. You both had forgotten that she was there, but given the matter you almost drowned, it was a reasonable excuse.

Sighing, Dean turned his focus to the woman temporarily, calming her down about the whole situation. You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about the fact he actually saved you.

He saved your life. Usually you were the hero that saved lives, so it didn’t affect you all that much. Actually, it made you feel important that you helped saved people who were clueless of the true world they lived in. But being on the other side to where you needed someone to be that hero? Hell, it was a crazy feeling.

“Hey, eyes open!” Dean’s fingers snapped in front of your eyes. His eyes were staring daggers into your soul. “Don’t you pass out on me, Kiddo.”

“…I’m... I’m only two years younger than you, asshole—”

Then, you passed out due to the lack of oxygen, but instead of living in that peaceful and empty bliss, you dreamed of him. You dreamed of Dean happily — but terribly — singing to 80s rock while Sam laughed his heart out.

You knew from now on, everything was going to be alright — well… it will be as soon as you got rid of that damn ghost.

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hollybell51 · 1 year

Text

Gentleman

Navigation

Sam Winchester x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s03e02 “bloodlust”

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: you and Sam don't exactly see eye to eye with Dean's new friend, so you return to the motel by yourselves. Things... escalate.

Content: smutty smut smut! Shameless, loving, gentle porn with a bit of a plot. Tooth rotting sappiness and fluff. Bit of hurt/comfort, bit of angst. Reader is just so in love with Sam (I am too dw). Sam is down horrendously bad for the reader (I'm horrendously down bad for him. I cannot emphasise this enough). Use of (Y/N), but not too much. Hickeys, making out, extremely light switchiness (barely noticeable, just healthily flexible dynamics), blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, safe sex, vaginal sex. Hugs all round (someone needed to give these boys one), Dean and the reader get along, Dean has like one soft moment, there's quite a bit of reminiscing and stuff. Gordon's vibes are Off. As above, set during season 2 episode 3.

Notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES! I'm (kinda) back, and my summaries have not gotten any better! Started watching Supernatural and got brainrot. Got lots of stuff planned but probably won't actually write it (sorry). The things I would let these two men do to me is insane like actually insane besties I am not ok. Anyways enjoy the by-product of my suffering, consider this a peace offering as I worm my way into the Supernatural fandom.

Also I have been working sporadically on some requests so if you made one chances are I've seen it and I have started it, but also I have Things in my Life right now that are very Stressful so yeah that's fun but yknow it is what it is, thanks everyone for being so supportive and patient with me xx

To say you were uncomfortable would have been an understatement. It wasn’t just how easily Gordon was talking about what had happened, or the too-bright light in his eyes as he recounted it, or Dean’s ease with the whole thing. It had been a freaking execution! And sure, the guy was a vampire, but the way the saw had just chewed right through his neck, the kicking of his legs as he’d died, the blood spraying over Dean’s face… yeah. As Sam had put it, decapitations weren’t really your idea of a good time. And it certainly wasn’t something you felt like laughing about over drinks.

You could see Sam’s leg bouncing slightly, his face blank as he stared at the beer he was nursing. Your own stomach twisted with unease. Chances were, if he was on edge, so were you. The emotional interplay wasn’t new, and in fact, Dean gave you endless shit about it. “I don’t know what’s up with you,” he’d say. “I just gotta thank God I don’t develop some freaky emotional feedback loop with every girl I bang.”

Now, Sam glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. You screwed up your nose. Not enough to be too noticeable, but enough to let him know you thought something was a bit off too. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

“What’s up with you two?” Dean asked, frowning at your practically untouched beer.

You shrugged. Sam shrugged.

Dean rolled his eyes, taking a mouthful of his drink before turning to his new friend. “I swear,” he said, “they read each others' minds. He’s grumpy, she’s grumpy. She’s happy, he’s happy. I reckon if she stubbed her toe, he’d be limping.”

Gordon barked a laugh, raising his eyebrows. “That so?”

“Dean, come off it,” you sighed.

He shook his head, smiling. ��Lighten up, both of you.”

You opened your mouth to say something about how you didn’t think lightening up was really appropriate given the circumstances, but the scraping of Sam’s chair cut you off.

“I’m not gonna bring you guys down,” he said. “I’m just gonna go back to the motel.”

“Yeah,” you agreed as he glanced at you, “I’m a bit tired.”

Dean frowned. “You sure?”

You nodded, standing.

“Ok,” he shrugged. “Seeya.”

“Seeya,” you smiled tightly, then passed him your unfinished beer. “You want this?”

“You’re not taking it?”

You shook your head. “Not in a beer sort of mood.”

He gave you a searching look, then shrugged again and took the drink. “Sure.”

“Thanks, Gordon.” You nodded to the other hunter. As much as you felt off about him, you didn’t need to be rude.

He inclined his head back to you. “My pleasure.”

Sam’s hand settled on your back as you joined him by the door, and you cast a final glance back at the two men remaining at the table.

“Sammy!” Dean called, the car keys jingling in his hand as he tossed them to his brother. “Remind me to beat that buzzkill outta you later, alright?”

Sam caught them with ease, Gordon’s enquiry of “something I said?” chasing you out the door. Hell yeah, it was something he said. It was everything he said.

“Jesus,” you grumbled, shivering in the cold air.

Sam snorted, absently shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. Equally thoughtlessly, you put it on. It had become something of a routine. Sam didn’t exactly get too cold very often, but you did. He was many things, and “gentleman” was pretty high on the list by you reckoning.

“I don’t know about all of this,” he said, feet crunching on the gravel as he headed towards the car. “Something’s…”

“Off, yeah.” You swung into the passenger seat, arms crossed firmly over your chest.

“I can’t quite–” The engine cut him off for a moment, but he didn’t finish the sentence anyway. It didn’t matter.

“I know, it’s a brain itch.”

Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Tell me about it. Seatbelt,” he added as the car rolled out of the parking lot, another habit between the two of you. You could have sworn you’d have been dead years ago if you hadn’t had someone reminding you to use the damn things, a fact that both Winchester brothers were not afraid to attempt to drill into you. They hadn’t had much success.

You hummed as you clicked the strap across your body, shrinking further down into the seat. You were feeling better now that you weren’t sitting across from Gordon, now that it was just you and Sam. You loved Dean, of course you did, but Sam was just so easy to be around. The two of you clicked, simple as that, and you adored it.

“I’m gonna call Ellen,” Sam said decisively, frowning at the road. “Maybe she knows him.”

You nodded. “Mhm, good idea.”

You were still humming – the melody from something that had been playing on the drive that day, you thought – as you entered the motel room, gulping down a glass of water before jumping onto the kitchen counter. Your heels made a dull thud, thud, thud, on the cupboards as you swung them, the zipper of Sam’s jacket swishing over the cheap vinyl. You watched him take a seat on the bed and dial Ellen.

You listened idly to his side of the conversation, eventually sliding off the counter top and coming to sit behind him on the bed. You rested your head on his shoulder, sighing. It had been an oddly long day.

“But I thought you said he was a good hunter,” he was frowning.

You thought you heard her say “Hannibal Lecter”, and frowned too. Shit, was Gordon some kind of serial killer? You hoped not.

Sam’s back was warm under your cheek, but his shoulders were tense. The last few weeks hadn’t been easy. You hadn’t known John Winchester well, but the time you’d spent with him had been… Well, it hadn’t been nice exactly, but you could see the love he had for his sons. You couldn’t imagine going through what Sam had, almost losing his brother and then really losing his father in the space of a week. You thought he was handling everything reasonably well, all things considered.

There’d been one moment, just a few days ago, when you’d thought he might crack. Dean had been out like a light in the back of the car, and you’d reached around to snap a photo of him squished up against the window. You’d laughed at it – he looked ridiculous. When you’d glanced up to show Sam, he was staring straight at the road, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

“Alright?” you’d asked, and he’d nodded.

You’d frowned. “Want me to drive for a bit?”

This time, a head shake.

He wasn’t alright, you could see that clear as day. “Sam, pull over,” you said softly.

He’d swung the car off the road so abruptly you’d jerked against your seatbelt, simply sitting with his foot on the brake and both hands on the steering wheel.

You’d reached over and put the car in park, switching off the ignition. “Come on,” you’d said, “out.”

He’d leant against the side of the car, arms crossed, staring out into the field you were driving past.

“Interesting grass?” you’d asked, bumping your shoulder against his.

He hadn’t smiled exactly, but his mouth had definitely twitched up a bit at the corner. You’d consider that a win.

“Seriously,” you’d prodded. “What’s up?”

“I don’t…” He’d trailed off, picking at a loose thread on his shirt. “I can’t…”

You’d frowned as he’d shaken his head, looking anywhere but you. You’d told yourself something like this was gonna happen eventually, prepped the whole “I’m here no matter what” speech a thousand times, but now you didn’t really know what to do. The only thing you could think of was to put your hand on his back, rubbing slow, soothing circles like your kindergarten teacher used to do when you were upset.

Sam’s voice was choked when he finally spoke. “I can’t lose you.”

Four words, but you were convinced your heart had shattered right there.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, stepping to face him. You took his hands in yours, uncrossing his arms.

“How can you–?”

You cut him off, shaking your head as you raised his hands to your face and kissed his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere,” you repeated. “Nowhere you can’t follow.”

He’d just nodded, pulling you into a tight hug. You breathed deeply, the strong smell of the most recent laundromat’s detergent all around you, your fingers bunched in the back of Sam’s shirt.

“I’ve got your back,” you whispered. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” he murmured into your hair, “I’ve got yours, too.”

“Good.” You’d pulled away, smiling as you stretched up to kiss him. It was soft and chaste, but that was all either of you needed.

Then Dean had woken up and shouted at you to save your “romantic moments” for when you weren’t supposed to be driving. You’d grumbled that he was just jealous, which he’d vehemently denied amongst a lot of vomit noises. But later, as you’d waited for Sam to get back with lunch, he’d put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to his side.

“I’m glad he’s got you,” he’d said. “Real glad.”

“You’ve got me too,” you’d smiled. “Always.”

He’d just stared at you for a moment, his arm still around you, before he’d cleared his throat and stepped back. “Thanks,” he’d muttered. “‘ppreciate it.”

Now, with the same softness, you let your hand slide up Sam’s back and across his shoulders, then down his side. You brushed over his chest, down to his stomach, then back up to settle over his heart. You always forgot how big he was until you tried to get your arms around him, then it was like hugging a mountain. You loved it.

He cleared his throat.

You smiled, placing a soft kiss where his hair brushed the back of his neck, using your free hand to sweep it away.

“Ok, yeah,” Sam said to Ellen. He sighed as your lips trailed higher, up under his ear.

“Mhm, we will.” His fingers curled in the bed covers as you sucked ever so gently at the spot you’d found, the one you knew drove him insane.

“Yep, alright. Thanks, Ellen.” A forceful swallow as you rubbed slow patterns across his front, nothing but the thin material of his shirt separating your hand from his skin.

“Ok. Bye.”

You smiled as the phone beeped, then was thrown to the bed. You eased your hand under his shirt, shivering as your fingers met the warm expanse of his torso. You could touch him like this forever, if you were given the chance.

“What’re you doing?” he breathed, tilting his head back, baring his throat.

“Kissing you,” you whispered as you moved down the muscle of his neck, “touching you,” as your hand ran gently over his pectoral, thumb grazing his nipple.

“Mm, do I get to kiss you too?”

You smiled. “If you ask nicely, yeah.”

“Please?”

“Hm?”

He sighed. “(Y/N), come on.”

“Nope,” you laughed softly. “Ask nicely.”

You felt his chest heave under your hand, and you pressed your mouth to his neck again.

“Pretty please,” he murmured.

You pretended to be considering this for a moment, dragging it out. Truth be told, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as he wanted to, but God it was fun teasing a bit. Especially like this, when it was you draped over his back, hinting at giving him hickeys, touching wherever you pleased.

“Go ahead,” you replied.

Before you could even draw another breath he’d turned and brought his hand up to cup your face, pressing his lips against yours. You let him lick into your mouth, his tongue sliding languidly alongside your own, the faint taste of beer still clinging to him. It was all so soft and gentle and full of care, everything you adored about him.

He shifted back on the bed, turning to face you. Your hands were still under his shirt, arm still stretched across his body as he pushed against you.

“I love this on you,” he murmured as his hands found the opening of his jacket, pushing it back over your shoulders.

You smiled. “You want me to take it off?”

“And this.” He plucked at the t-shirt you wore underneath, already coaxing it upwards.

“Alright,” you laughed, batting his hands away. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Whoever said that clearly never met you.”

You looked away, hoping to hide the pink you could feel flooding your cheeks. However many times you did this, Sam never failed to get you flustered. You could sense his eyes on you as you stripped yourself of your shirt and his jacket, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine.

He started to shuffle back further onto the bed, one hand settling on your waist as he leant down to kiss along your jaw. You sighed, your mind halfway made up to just let him keep going like that. But no.

“Uh-uh,” you said, pushing him gently off you.

“What do you–? Oh.”

You smiled as you slid off the bed, kneeling between his legs. You ran your hand up his thigh, deftly undoing his belt and fly. Heck, you’d had practice. “Can I?”

“Yes,” he nodded quickly. “God, yes.”

You rolled your eyes, gesturing to his pants. “Well you gotta help me out a bit, yeah?”

“Sorry,” he grinned, shedding them in one smooth motion.

“And those.” You pointed at his underwear.

“Yes, your highness.”

“Damn right,” you muttered as you kissed your way up his thigh, nipping gently at the skin of his hip. He smelled of the soap from last night’s motel room, faint but still there, a little sweat from the night’s earlier action. You could taste it where your tongue touched him, and man was it good.

His voice was breathy when he asked, “You gonna keep teasing me forever?”

“Maybe.” You watched as goosebumps appeared where your breath tickled him, smiling to yourself.

“Is that what’s got you smiling like that?”

You sat back on your heels, arms resting on his knees as you looked up at him. He was so gorgeous, the shitty neon lighting of the room glancing off his hair in a kind of halo. You thought your next words through very carefully.

“No,” you said slowly. “I’m thinking about how your cock’s gonna feel in my mouth. How you’re gonna say my name when I’ve got you so deep down my throat I’m almost gagging. I bet you won’t be able to keep your hands off me, I’ll make you feel so good.”

Sam’s mouth fell open, his hands twitching where they rested on the duvet.

“What do you think?”

He swallowed. “I think I’m not even gonna take you up on that bet, I think you’re right.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok then.” You smiled, leaning forward and taking his dick in your hands. It was hard and warm to the touch, already leaking precum. You licked down, then up again, swirling your tongue around the head.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Please, (Y/N).”

“You want me to suck it?”

“Yes. Please.”

You shrugged. “Since you asked so nicely.” You sank your mouth down onto him, your hands working what wouldn’t fit. Sam’s thighs tensed, and you moved. You could have stayed like that forever, you thought, just holding him in your mouth. You had half a mind to ask about that, actually.

Sam moaned, his fingers twisting in the covers as you pulled your head back, then forward again, sucking and licking along his length. You’d wanted to take your time at first, tease him and see how long it took for him to be fisting your hair and moving your head for you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure.

“Oh my God,” he whispered as you increased your speed, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. His dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, something you might have been embarrassed about in the past. Now it turned you on.

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Sam’s hips despite his best efforts. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.

“(Y/N),” he panted. “Shit, (Y/N).”

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos – before you met him, that was – as his hand finally flew to your hair, his fingers carding through it. He was trying so hard to be gentle, and you loved him for it.

“You look so hot like that,” he whispered. “How’re you so fucking hot?”

You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You vividly remembered a conversation you’d had with Sam and Dean in the car once, where Dean had proclaimed that “there are blowjobs, and then there are blowjobs.” Sam had turned and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. Dean had yelled at you both and told you to get a room. What you were doing right now was definitely a blowjob, and you were loving every second of it.

“I’m gonna cum,” Sam was panting, “(Y/N) oh my God I’m gonna cum.”

His fingers tightened in your hair, his head thrown back and his cock twitching in your mouth. You went all in, sucking and licking and jerking with everything you had in you.

Yes, you thought as you swallowed everything he gave you, basking in his muttered curses and groans like they were water and you were a wilted houseplant. This was heaven, right here. Every time you watched him come undone, you were completely convinced it couldn’t get any better than this. And without fail, the next time it did.

He was still panting as you licked him clean, as gently as you could. His hand had settled on your shoulder, large fingers caressing your skin so tenderly it made you want to cry.

“You ok?” you asked, sitting back. You patted his knee, watching his face carefully. He was flushed, a light sheen of sweat sticking some of his hair to his forehead. You hadn’t really paid much attention at the time, but now you wished you’d made him take off his shirt too. You loved watching his chest heave as he tried to catch his breath.

“Ok?” he echoed, opening his eyes. He grinned. “I’m more than ok.”

You smiled back, licking your lips. “Good.”

“Come up here,” he said, patting his leg. “And take off your pants.”

“Magic word?”

“Please.” Then, on second thoughts, “pretty please.”

You laughed, but got up and shed your jeans anyway. You slid onto his lap, straddling his thigh and wrapping your arms around his neck. He kissed you softly, holding you close against him. The material of his shirt tickled your skin, very noticeably baring you from the silken warmth of his skin.

“Off,” you said against his lips, plucking at the garment.

“Off,” he repeated, tracing the line of your underwear.

Almost perfectly in sync, the two of you shed the offending clothing.

“I love this,” he whispered as he reached behind you, deftly unfastening your bra and pulling it away from you. He set it aside carefully, almost reverently, then bent his head and fastened his mouth to your breast. “Hey,” he said after a moment, frowning.

You frowned too. “What’s wrong?”

His finger traced a delicate circle over your other breast, tapping at a spot just above your nipple. “What’s this?”

You squinted at the area, then laughed. The faded yellowish bruise wasn’t all that visible, but of course Sam would find it.

“What is it?”

“It’s a hickey. From you. From last time.”

His face cleared. “Shit, didn’t realise it’d last that long. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you smiled. “Makes me think of you whenever I see it.”

“Maybe I should give you more, then.”

Your grin widened. “Please.”

“Mm?”

You rolled your eyes. “Pretty please.”

“Ok.” He bent once more, sucking a matching spot into your unmarked breast. Then he added another one beside it, and a third right in the middle of your sternum.

“No more low cut tops, I guess,” you sighed, stifling a moan as he moved downwards with another.

“Shame,” he murmured into your skin, “I love those low cut tops.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’d be insane not to.”

You laughed, then gasped as he ran his hand up your thigh.

“Relax,” he said.

“I’m relaxed, I’m so relaxed.”

“Your heartbeat says you’re lying.”

“That’s for you,” you told him, meeting his eyes. “That’s what you do to me.”

“And this?” His finger darted between your legs, sliding easily with how wet you were.

“Yeah,” you gasped, “all for you.”

He cursed softly, then lowered you gently onto the bed. He propped himself half over you, half beside you, his hand stroking down over your stomach, your hips, around your pelvis.

“Please,” you moaned. “Sam, please.”

“Please what?”

“Touch me. Please,” you added as an afterthought.

“Nice manners,” he noted, rubbing achingly slow circles over your clit.

You gripped his arm, fingers digging into the muscle as he bent and resumed his assault on your breasts.

“You take such good care of me,” he continued, his voice muffled slightly by your soft flesh. “You always take such good care of me.”

“Cause I love you,” you whispered.

“Mhm, you gonna let me take care of you too?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Of course.”

“Good.”

You whined at the loss of his fingers on your clit, then bit your lip to quiet what would have been a loud moan as he slipped the finger inside you. The heel of his hand ground against your sensitive bundle of nerves, his finger putting just the right pressure in just the right places. You’d be a mess in no time, and you both knew it.

“Fuck, Sam,” you panted, your back arching as you chased the feeling.

“Hm?” His chest was warm where it pressed against your side, the muscles of his arm rippling subtly under the skin where your fingers dug into him. His free hand stroked your shoulder, his mouth busy littering your chest with hickeys. You could feel him growing hard again against your thigh.

“Fuck me?” you half asked, half offered.

He grunted softly at your words, nodding. “Got a condom?”

“Mhm, yeah, sure. One sec.” You reached over to your jeans, rummaging in the pockets until you struck gold. Or foil, you supposed. You watched as Sam tore it open and slid it on, as easily as if he was tying shoelaces. He’d gotten stupidly fast at putting the things on, courtesy of the whole “Dean could get back any minute so let’s just be as fast as we can” element you so often found yourselves dealing with. You weren’t complaining.

“Ready?” he asked, positioning himself between your legs. You rocked your hips gently, feeling his hardness pressed against your dripping centre.

He nodded, then softly slid inside you. You both gasped at the feeling, the familiar stretch and the warmth of it. It was like he was made for you, the way he fit.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your fingers twisting in the duvet.

“Alright?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Move,” you urged him. He did, slow and gentle. The light was doing that thing with his hair again, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it. Brush it off his forehead, kiss him there, smooth the faint worry line that seemed to be present more and more frequently. You’d do anything to make it disappear forever.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, leaning forward to deliver more kisses to your chest. You were gonna have a whole forest of hickeys when you were done.

“You feel good,” you replied. Your breath was coming short, a light sheen of sweat gathering over your skin even though you weren’t the one doing all the work.

“Touch yourself,” he encouraged you, “I want you to cum while I’m fucking you.”

“Shit, ok,” you replied, reaching down and running a finger in tiny circles over your clit. You loved how easily you could give and take control with him, how quickly and smoothly you could switch roles when you wanted to. It wasn’t just in bed, either, and you adored it. You adored him.

Your own hand combined with the steady thrusting of his dick was perfect. You weren’t going to last long, and judging by Sam’s shuddering breaths and muttered curses, your name sprinkled throughout, neither was he.

“(Y/N), fuck,” he moaned, his abdominal muscles twitching and tensing.

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped as you felt the tightness coiling inside you, more, more, more– “Holy fuck, I’m gonna–” You released with a frantic cry of his name, your spine arching and your legs locking around his hips. You felt yourself contract around his dick, the stuttering of his strokes as he too reached his climax.

He slowed eventually, coming to a stop as the tremors receded from your body and your brain returned to your head. You were spent, content to lie there with his warm, comforting weight on top of you until the world stopped turning.

He rolled off you, peeling off the condom and tying it neatly before tossing it to the floor to be disposed of later. You turned to face him, your head resting on his bicep, his other arm draped over your side. His hand stroked your back, soft and loving.

You smiled as you reached up, sweeping the hair from his face. “You good?” you murmured, cupping his cheek gently.

He nodded, leaning forward to kiss you softly. You reciprocated, then stretched up and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“How about you?” he asked.

“I’m great.” Then you sighed, your thumb stroking tiny arcs across the curve of his cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered.

“Look at you,” he answered. “You’re so beautiful.”

You closed the few inches of space between you, pressing your lips to his. “I really do love you,” you said as you pulled away. “So much.”

He smiled. “I know, I love you too. More than anything.”

You went to kiss him again, but his phone buzzed and you froze. He groped for it blindly, frowning. You’d both learnt the hard way that if his phone went off and Dean wasn’t with you, it was best to check it.

Sam snorted, flipping it around for you to see.

The text, from Dean, was two sentences. “Back in 1/2 hour. Get decent.”

“Screw you, Dean.”

Sam laughed, tossing the phone to the side. “I guess we’ve got half an hour.”

“I’m taking a shower then,” you said. “I saw a vending machine, like, right outside, and I really want a soda right now.”

“I’ll get you a soda if you let me take the shower with you?”

“Deal.” You held out your hand as if to shake on it, but he kissed it instead. Yeah, “gentleman” was definitely high up on that list.

368 notes · View notes

rowyn-writes · 9 months

Text

Cinnamon and Sugar

Chapter Five

Warnings: Self hate, mentions of abusive ex, mentions of a minor character death, fluff

Characters: Reader, Dean, Michael, Jo

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

You had been living with Dean for five weeks now, and everything felt surprisingly normal. You both woke up early in the morning for work, so you got to have breakfast together. You liked having someone to talk to before going to work.

It was five in the morning as you and Dean shuffled around the kitchen in a comfortable silence. You had made some eggs and bacon for the both of you while Dean got ready for work. Since Dean passed the coffee shop to get to work, he would drop you off, and in return, you made him coffee to get him ready for the day.

"Mornin' sweetheart." Dean grumbles as he comes out of his room, yawning. His hair was still tousled from sleep. You chuckle softly at the sight.

"Morning, Dean. Forget to brush your hair?" You snorted. Dean laughs as he smooths down his hair.

"Maybe I was trying out a new style, Y/n, ever think of that?" He sniffed, pretending to be mad.

"Aw, c'mon now, you never change up your routine, so I find that highly unlikely. And besides, you can't be mad at me forever, I made you breakfast." You set his plate down on the table, pouring a glass of orange juice for him.

"I got damn lucky to have you as a roommate." He sighed happily as he ruffles your hair before sitting down at the table, tucking into his breakfast.

"I could say the same." You smile as you eat with him. Storm was still asleep on the window seal. Despite Dean buying a cat bed for him to get into his good graces, the cat refused to actually sleep in the bed. He just sniffed at it before going back to what he was doing.

Once you and Dean were finished with breakfast, he took the plates and put them in the dishwasher, starting a load. You went and grabbed your apron for work before heading out the door with Dean, sliding into his beautiful Impala. "I hope you know that if I actually still drove, I'd totally wanna take Baby for a joyride." You joked.

Dean laughs softly, his eyes crinkling up at the edges. "You're more than welcome to drive her anytime you need, sweetheart. I won't stop you."

"Oh, um, nah." You shook your head gently. "I don't really drive anymore. I um, I got into a really bad car crash about a year ago and I don't really drive anymore because of it." It was the first time you had really talked about the car crash with anyone other than Jo or Jack.

"I'm sorry to hear about that sweetheart. Was everyone alright?" He frowns, looking over at you.

"Oh, um, yeah, I just had a broken arm. . . The other driver was okay too."

Dean could tell that you wanted to drop the subject. "So, I was thinking, you don't work tomorrow, right? And you're done with exams?"

"Yeah, why?" You tilt your head curiously.

"Well," Dean said as he pulled into the parking lot of Chuck's. "I was thinking that tonight we go to my favorite bar and have some drinks, my treat. They're having karaoke tonight too, and I think it would be a lot of fun."

You mulled it over for a moment. You didn't drink much, but you thought this would be a good chance to get to know Dean a little better and let loose some. "I think that'd be a lot of fun, actually." You give him a gentle smile.

"Perfect, I get off work tonight at 5. I'll pick you up and take you home on my lunch break, I don't want you walking home alone or anything." Dean gives you a boyish grin, the one that you had come to adore.

"Thanks, Dean, you have no idea how much I appreciate your kindness." And it was true. Dean was kind to you when it felt like you hit rock bottom. Being evicted from you apartment was rough, and you never expected him to offer his home up to you. Even though you hadn't known Dean long, you trusted him, and it seems that he trusted you. You hated to think about where you'd be without him right now.

"Don't mention it, sweetheart. I'm just glad I could help you out. I've been where you've been before. My life has never been put together in the slightest, and there was a time when I had no place to go. I really could have used some help, and I want to be that person for you." He said softly, looking over at you.

"Well, I know I'm not much, but I'm here, and I can be the support you need. We can help each other." You offer him a gentle smile.

"I like the sound of that, Y/n, thank you." You lean over and give him a quick hug.

"I'll see you on your lunch break, then. Let me go make your coffee really quick." You went in and unlocked the doors, making Dean a brown sugar latte and grabbed him a scone before bringing it out to him. "Have a good day at work." I reach through the window and ruffle his hair before heading back inside to tackle the day.

Jo was the next person scheduled to come in, and you hoped it was one of those rare days that she was actually on time. You had talked to her many times before about her punctuality, but it never seemed to stick with her. She was your best friend, and you didn't want to have to reprimand her, but it seemed that it was going to have to come to that. Thankfully, she was on time today, and you didn't have to say anything to her.

"Thank god my car started." She said as she walked in, clocking in on the computer. "I was scared she wasn't gonna crank. I really need a new car."

"Well, you're here, that's all that matters. Today's a Wednesday, so I'm expecting it to be a good day for us. This is usually our dead day, so I think it should be okay with just the two of us until eleven when Maddison comes in."

The day went off without a hitch, the customers were nice, it was a slow day, and everything seemed peaceful. That is, until the end of your shift. Dean was on his lunch break and he was waiting for you to clock out so he could take you home. He didn't mind hanging out in the coffee shop, as he found it rather peaceful. The front door dinged, signaling that there was a customer inside. "Hey, welcome to Chuck's! We'll be right w-" You broke off as you stared up at the man in front of you. Michael. You could feel your heart pounding out your chest as he glared down at you. You hadn't seen him in nearly two months, what made him want to come confront you now?

"We need to talk." He said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest. He was 6'3 and he towered over you. It was something that had always intimidated you, especially when you were together.

"We have nothing to talk about. You need to leave." You tried to make your voice sound strong and determined, but it came out as just a small squeak. You hated the affect he had on you. For years he made you feel small, and even after the break up, he could still make you feel that way.

"Oh we have plenty to talk about, Y/n. Like how one day you just changed the locks to the apartment and had all of my stuff sitting out in the hall?"

"And you're just now wanting to talk about this, huh? You had nearly two months to reach out to me and to talk about this, but you picked now as the prime opportunity? When I'm at work?"

"Oh please," He scoffed. "You can hardly call this a job. Besides, I've been busy with other things." Dean's head perked up at the sound of arguing. He looked over at you and Michael. He could clearly tell you were in distress.

"Michael, just fucking leave. You're not welcomed here. Our relationship is over and there's absolutely nothing for us to talk about. You cheated, you were abusive, you were a shitty ass boyfriend. What else do you want me to say? I've listed a billion reasons as to why we broke up and you still can't accept that."

"Don't speak to me like that." He grabbed your wrist. "I guess I better teach you some manners." You try to pull away from his grasp. Before you could even shout for help, a fist connected with Michael's jaw.

Dean looked pissed as he grabbed Michael by the shirt, slamming him against the wall. "What kind of pathetic coward lays hands on a woman?" He growled as he punched him again. "Come near Y/n ever again, and I swear to God himself, there will not be anything stopping me from beating you within an inch of your sad life. Got it?!"

You had never seen Dean so angry before, let alone get physical with someone. "And what's it to you, huh?! Why the hell do you care for some whore so much? Oh, I get it, you're fucking her, huh?" Michael laughed, throwing his head back.

Dean said nothing in return as he punched him once more before throwing him out to door. "Don't ever come near her again." Dean snarled before going to check on you. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he? I swear to God-"

"Dean. . ." You hugged him tightly. "I'm okay, he didn't hurt me. . . Thank you for sticking up for me." You whisper, tears in your eyes. Maddison and Jo watched as Dean wrapped his arms around you protectively.

"No one's going to hurt my best girl on my watch, I promise you that." He said lowly, gently rubbing your back. "I'm guessing he's your ex boyfriend?"

"Yeah, he is. . . I thought I was finally free of him, but he keeps popping back up like an infectious disease." You were holding back tears, not wanting to cry in front of Dean.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's get out of here." He wrapped his arm around you and led you out to his car. "Do you need me to stay with you? I can tell Bobby something came up."

You shook your head gently. "No, that's okay. . . I don't want to impose. I'll be okay until you get off work tonight. . . Honestly, I don't even what to think about what just happened. And it doesn't even surprise me that he came here. I guess I was just hoping he'd forget about me." You ramble on, looking at your hands.

"You wouldn't be imposing, sugar." He said, his voice soft and gentle. "If you need me, I'm here, okay? There's not much goin' on at the shop today, so Bobby can afford to be on his own for the rest of the day."

You felt tears brim your eyes as you kept looking at your hands, refusing to look Dean in the eye. "I-I could use some company. . . If t-that's okay." You whispered quietly. Dean tilts your head up gently with his finger so you would look at him.

"I'll stay with you as long as you need, darlin'." He then surprised you by kissing your head. He was so caring and gentle with you, which was something you weren't used to. He drove back to the house, letting you pick the music for the drive. Once you got back, he called Bobby and explained the situation before following you inside. He grabbed some blankets and popped some popcorn. "So, what movie should we watch? Comedy, rom-com, action?"

"You really don't have to do this for me, Dean. . ." You felt like a burden. You made Dean call out of work just so he could sit here and watch a movie with you. You were an awful friend and roommate.

"You're right, I don't have to, but I want to. . . You're my best friend, Y/n, I want to make sure that you're okay. You've had a stressful day, and you need to unwind a bit. Plus, work was slow, wasn't much for me to do. I'd much rather sit here with my favorite girl and cheer her up." He sits down beside you, draping his arm on the back of the couch.

You leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you let the tears flow. "I-I just want to be rid of him. He never let's me have any peace."

"Shh," Dean whispered softly, running his fingers through your hair. "I'm here sweetheart. . . He won't hurt you as long as I'm around, okay?" He kissed your head again, making you feel comfort. Storm jumped up on the couch, settling himself in your lap, purring softly. "See, darlin'? Even Storm's here to help you." That made the tears stream down your face harder. It felt like you couldn't breathe. Everything that you had held in from the break up came bursting out all at once, despite your attempts at pushing it down. Dean held you in his arms as you cried. "Breathe, Y/n, I need you to breathe for me, okay?" He murmured gently. You tried to breathe, but it just came out as choked sobs. Your body was shaking as you cried. Dean let you know that he was here, and that you were safe. You knew he was right. Being in his arms was the safest place for you. You knew that Dean would never hurt you, and that he would do everything in his power to protect you.

Once you had calmed down, you found your voice. "Thank you for being here." Your voice was raw and hoarse from crying. Dean didn't mention it, he just smiled softly, kissing your temple.

"Of course, sweetheart. What are friends for?" He continued to run his fingers through your hair, as he could tell that's what was keeping you grounded. "We don't have to go out tonight, we can go some other time, I'm sure that you're tired after the day you've had."

You thought it over for a moment. "Actually, I think I still want to go out tonight. . . I just need to feel normal, and show that what he did doesn't get to me." You state confidently.

Dean grins at your confidence. "That's my girl." He let you get ready for your night out with him. You picked a pair faded ripped jeans from your draw, a black blouse, and a black leather jacket. You combed through your hair, trying to find a style you liked, eventually settling on having it braided. You came out of your room with a smile. Dean let out a low whistle as he saw you.

"You clean up nicely, darlin'." He grins. He was wearing a green flannel over a black shirt that fit him nicely and a pair of faded blue jeans. You couldn't help but smile at the compliment.

"Thanks, De. Shall we get going?" You grab you wallet as Dean grabs his keys.

"Let's go." He smiles, resting a hand on the small of your back as he leads you out the door. You were very aware of his hand against your back. But you shouldn't be thinking about that. Dean was your friend and roommate. You couldn't risk anything. You slid into the Impala as Dean going into the drivers seat. You grinned as the car roared to life. The car was absolutely gorgeous, and you'd love to have an old car like this. That is, if you still drove. Past pains rear its ugly head into your thoughts, making you think of things you wish you could forget. You push it aside. Tonight was about having fun with your best friend.

You showed the bouncer your ID and you were let into the bar with Dean. It was packed since it was karaoke night. You and Dean slid up to the bar, you ordered your favorite drink and Dean got a whiskey and coke. "So, ya thinking about gettin' up there and singing?" Dean smirked as he looked to you.

"Me? Nah, I can't really sing." You shrugged.

"One, that's bullshit. I hear you singing in the shower all the time and you sound amazing. And two, no one who sings karaoke can sing. I'll do it with you if you sing." He offered you up a smile. You could never resist that boyish smile he had.

"I hate you, I hope you know that." Despite your words, you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face.

"Say what you want sweetheart. But hey, you get to pick the song and I can't complain."

"Oh really?" You smirked. "So if I picked a Taylor Swift song, you wouldn't say anything?"

"Hey, I can get down with TSwizzle, okay?" Dean held up his hands in defense. You couldn't help the laughter that racked through your body.

"You did not just say TSwizzle-" You continued to laugh, Dean joining in.

"All I'm sayin' is that you can pick whatever song you like."

You went up to the karaoke machine, scrolling through until you found the perfect duet for you two. I Remember Everything by Zach Bryan and Kacey Musgraves. "We're up next." You grin as you pull Dean towards the stage. Dean followed you up on stage, grabbing the mic. "Ready?" Dean nods as the song starts. Despite having never heard the song, he did it justice. You never knew Dean could sing. When you sang your parts together, Dean smiled over at you, his eyes gleaming. Once the song was over, he helped you down from the stage.

"Y/n, you were amazing! I knew you had a good voice, but damn, that was beautiful." He praised you, gently patting your shoulder.

"Me? Dean, I had no idea you could sing like that. You were fantastic!" You gently punch his shoulder.

Dean chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck as the tip of his ears turn pink. "Thank you, sweetheart, I appreciate it." He grinned.

"Aaand I think that some of the girls over there found your singing attractive." You chuckled as you looked over to a group of girls that were eyeballing Dean. "You should go talk to them!" You encouraged.

"Nah," He shook his head. "This night is about you and me, and celebrating our friendship." He gave you a smile. You couldn't help the small butterflies you felt in your stomach. Instead of going off with a girl, he wanted to spend time with you. But at the same time, you felt bad, because you felt like you were keeping him from having a fun time.

You felt like screaming at yourself, because you always did this. Every time there was something good going in your life, you found a way to get in your head and overthink things. You wished you could turn those voices in your head off. Sometimes those voices got particularly loud, especially in times like these. You tried to push them away and have a good time with Dean, but you couldn't help it.

"You okay, Y/n? You got really quiet all of a sudden." Dean said softly. Damnit, he knew you too well.

"Oh, yeah, it's um, it's just been a long day, y'know?" You cleared your throat, looking up at him.

"We can head home if you'd like?" He suggested, tilting his head to the side.

"No no, I'd hate to be a bother. You look like you're having so much fun, and I don't want to ruin that." You spoke softly.

"Sweetheart, if you're tired or you just don't feel up to being here anymore, you can tell me. I won't be upset. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or feel like you have to stay for my sake. Besides, I don't care where we are, as long as we're together, I'm happy to spend time with you."

You gave him a soft smile. "I just don't think I'm in the right headspace right now." You sighed. "It's just been a long day with a lot going on. . . I promise to make it up to you."

"Don't worry about it, Y/n, we can just spend some time together and watch a movie if you'd like?"

"I'd really like that, De. . . Thank you." You whispered gently. Dean ruffled your hair and went to pay for the tab. You rode home in a comfortable silence as Dean hummed along to the radio. You were stuck in your own head again, per usual. You were leaned against the window, feeling the cool glass on your cheek.

"Are you sure everything's alright, sweetheart?" He asked, looking over to you. "You've been awfully quiet."

"I dunno, I'm just really struggling mentally today. After everything that happened this afternoon, I just feel so. . . empty?"

"I get it darlin'. What do you need? Do you need some time by yourself, or do you wanna curl up on the couch with me and watch some Dr. Sexy MD?" He questioned, his voice gentle.

"I think that spending some time with you could help. . ." You couldn't help but smile. You felt safe with Dean, and even though you were having a tough time, you knew that everything was going to be okay as long as you were with him.

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wandering-winchesters · 1 year

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Who Did This To You?

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 4,077 (Oops) Summary: Sam and the reader are close friends, Dean on the other hand is kept at a distance. The reader has a boyfriend, who turns out to be abusive. What will happen when Dean finds out? Trigger Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence, bruises and brief mention of blood. Requested: No, just something I thought up. A/N: I am really happy with how this turned out, please let me know what you think. <3

Masterlist

I press the accelerator down further, hot tears brimming in my eyes, frantic to get back to the bunker. Back to safety and Sam. I need to talk to Sam, he always knows how to calm me down. My boyfriend, Chris and I had fought tonight and it had been bad, he had gotten in my face and screamed at me over the smallest thing. I put up with it for almost an hour, before I got up and left. What had started out as utter rage had slowly turned to gut wrenching sobs throughout the long drive home. I pull into the driveway for the bunker, parking next to the Impala and quickly making the walk from the car to the door. I unlock it quickly slipping inside, I kick my boots off at the front door and head to the kitchen hoping to find Sam. Much to my dismay, the face looking back at me is indeed not Sam, but the other Winchester, Dean. He looks up at me, his eyes searching my face and his brows drawing together when he notices my expression and the tears on my cheeks. I sniff, quickly wiping them away but it’s too late, he’s already seen them.

“Where’s Sam?” I ask, drawing on every ounce of strength within in me to keep my wits about me for a few more minutes. Dean takes his time to answer, taking a sip from the beer he is holding as he studies me carefully. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, waiting anxiously for his reply.

“He went out for a bit, said he needed to get out of the bunker. Can’t say I blame him.” He says, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily before taking another sip of his beer. I give Dean a short nod and mutter a thanks before turning on my heel, intent upon heading straight to my room but his voice stops me once again.

“You’ve been crying.” He states, matter-of-factly. I freeze in my tracks, weighing my next options carefully. Why does he care? He’s seen me cry before and it hasn’t exactly made him kinder to me. I square my shoulders and turn around to face him once again, his eyes still locked on me. He looks as if he is carefully analyzing my every move, every breath I take and every word that I speak. He’s leaning against the counter top, one leg bent resting on the cabinet behind him. His arms crossed across his chest, supporting the hand that’s holding his beer.

“Why do you care?” I ask, my voice a bit more volatile than I initially intended. I am too tired to put effort into being nice to him, a sentiment that he rarely ever gives to me. He is slightly taken aback by my words, a fact made obvious by the way he holds his hands up to the side, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

“Just thought you might want to talk about it, since Sam isn’t here.” He replies, his tone soft and gentle, something I’d never received from him before. It wasn’t like we were enemies or anything, but he didn’t particularly care for me and I shared the same sentiment about him. We butted heads over everything, he always tried to hold me back on hunts, making me feel incapable and inferior.

“Ill be fine.” I mutter, moving to walk away once again, and once again he stops me his words cutting through me like a silver knife.

“Did he hurt you?” He asks, his voice unreadable, but his face screams danger, depending on my answer. I look at him, my eyes searching his face for any explanation of where this was coming from, but he’s impassive other than anger. I don’t trust my voice, so I shake my head no. It wasn’t exactly a lie, he hadn’t physically hurt me, he didn’t need to his verbal threats were enough.

“I’m just going to go to bed. Thanks anyways.” I say and he nods slightly but he’s not fooled. I turn and actually walk away this time and make it to my room before my tears start to fall again. I sit down on the edge of my bed pulling my phone out of my pocket, intending to send Sam a text, but I am distracted by the multiple messages flooding the screen. Beginning with anger and threats, before changing to apologies and begging for my forgiveness. I toss my phone onto the floor, too tired to deal with the nonsense tonight. The interaction with Dean replays in my head, his kindness strange and cause for reflection. It isn’t as if he was ever a complete asshole to me, but he was never fond of me. I had always been Sam’s friend and Dean just put up with my presence. Neither one of them ever intended for me to start hunting with them, it was a matter of wrong place wrong time. Sam and I had met in college and I went looking for him when he disappeared from classes, the week I found him happened to be when the yellow eyed demon came calling a few years ago, and I had stuck with them ever since. Intent upon learning everything I could about the supernatural. Sam had welcomed me in with open arms and Dean had been dragged along kicking and screaming, metaphorically speaking. Well, mostly metaphorically, he did a lot of yelling. So the concern Dean had for me tonight, was well concerning. It was throwing me for a bit of a loop, curiosity sparking within me. Did he actually care about me and his disdain for me was just a front? No, surely not. I had been with them for three years and this was an utter first. I brush the thoughts aside and close my eyes, hoping that sleep will over take me. Hours later, it finally does.

I wake to knocking on my door, I yell out a muffled come in, and Sam sticks his head in, his expression apologetic.

“Hey sorry to wake you, I am about to head out but I wanted to check in on you before I do. Dean said you were upset and looking for me last night, you could’ve called me Y/N, I would have come back earlier.” I had sat up in bed to look at him and he had opened my door the rest of the way. I smiled softly at the tall man standing in front of me, his hair messy and the collar on his flannel offset.

“Its okay Sammy, you have a good night out?” I ask and he grins sheepishly, nodding his head in response.

“Yeah, actually, I met a girl at the bar. I am heading back to her place now actually. You doing okay?” He asks me, his smile contagious. I chuckle, shaking my head slightly, but smile back at him.

“Yeah I am good, go get ‘em tiger.” He laughs at my response, and jogs off down the hallway yelling a see you later over his shoulder. He had forgotten to shut my door behind him, I sigh throwing my blankets to the side and standing up beside my bed.

I stretch my body, groaning slightly as the tension in my shoulders works it way out. I throw on the jeans I had worn yesterday, before finding a new shirt to wear, I settle on my favorite green tee, a memento from my college years. I pick my phone up from the floor, scanning the mass of texts and calls all from one person. Before sending him a quick message,

8:33 A.M. I’ll be over shortly, I just woke up.

I take a deep breath and grab my keys from my dresser and head towards the entry to the bunker. Dean is in the kitchen again, this time making himself breakfast. He gives me a slight smile as I walk past him towards the door. I smile back but keep on my path to my boots, still left haphazardly by the door where I had tossed them last night. “Need breakfast?” Dean calls from the behind me, I look back over my shoulder and see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen, skillet in one hand, towel in the other.

“Not hungry, thanks though. I’ll be back later!” I say, beginning to head out the door to the bunker. I hear him call out something along the lines of ‘be careful’ but I don’t stop to question it, our interaction from last night still weirding me out.

In hindsight, I should’ve gone back inside this morning. Had breakfast with Dean and ignored Chris’ frenzy of messages. Going over his place this morning was probably the worst idea I have ever had, it hadn’t gone well, worse than I had ever imagined. His messages to me last night and this morning had me convinced that he would apologize for his actions and yet that is the farthest thing from what happened. By the time I had gotten there, he had switched from apologetic to angry again. Instead of his words, he let his fists do the talking. The first time catching me so off guard it knocked me off my feet successfully splitting my lip, the second time I had dodged his blow, stepping out of his reach and yelling at him to keep his hands off of me and trying to leave. But the third. The third landed square on my jaw, knocking me unconscious.

I had come to from Chris shaking me and crying apologies. His touch sending waves of nausea through me, revolted by the thought of him. Glancing at my reflection in the surface of his coffee table I noticed the rapidly forming bruise. A mark that would serve as a vivid reminder of his actions and my inability of acting like a good, obedient girlfriend. Or so he said, after spending the morning accusing me of cheating on him with Sam. No matter what I said, it wasn’t enough to convince him that we were just friends and he had just lost it on me. I had left in a rush when he went to the bathroom, leaving everything but my phone and my keys behind on his couch. The ache in my body spurring me to move faster out of his place and into the safety of my car. The seconds it took me to get from his living room to the drivers seat, felt like an eternity. I had driven as fast as I dared back to the bunker, checking my rear view mirror constantly watching and waiting for him to appear behind me, but he didn’t. So here I sit, outside the bunker, debating the best way to get into my room without someone noticing the bruises still forming on my face. Not wanting the attention or, more likely the “I told you so’s” from Dean. I grabbed the hat from my passenger seat, tugging it low over my face. I rearrange my hair, framing it around my face in such a way that it covers as much of my jaw as it can. I take a deep breath and exit my vehicle, taking the few steps required into the bunker.

I shut the door as quietly as I can, taking soft steps towards my room. I hope to make it into the safety and silence of my room without anyone noticing, I am not even sure who is home at this time but I don’t want to see either of them. I had nearly reached the safety of my space, but I head Dean’s door swing open behind me.

“Y/N, you’re home sooner than I expected. Sam isn’t back yet.” He says and I freeze in my tracks, praying he doesn’t continue the conversation.

“Okay, thanks!” I say, my voice coming out shrill and unsteady, the opposite of what I was trying to sound like. I hear him move to close his door, but he hesitates and I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of my head.

“What happened to your jeans? Why is there blood on them?” He asks, and I internally curse myself out for my stupidity. I had wiped my hand across my thigh after wiping the blood off my busted lip. I must have taken too long to give him an answer, because I hear him moving closer to me and I close my eyes waiting for the moment that I had hoped to avoid. “Y/N, look at me.” He says and I can feel him ever so close to me. I turn around, keeping my eyes trained on the ground and my face angled away from him. He reaches out and gently grabs my chin, pulling it towards him so he can see me. I bite my tongue to keep the slight gasp from slipping past, his touch on my bruised jaw causing a ripple of pain to travel throughout my nerves, but he notices and his touch lightens. The opposite of his face, his expression darkens, eyes traveling over my skin. His other hand comes up and pulls my baseball hat off my head, revealing all of the color spreading through my skin, reds and purples mainly at this point in time.

“Who did this to you?” He growls, not waiting for a response his hand drops to my wrist and tugs me behind him. I follow his lead back towards the kitchen, when we get there he points to the counter muttering one word through his angry stupor, “Sit.” I don’t, but he doesn’t notice immediately, his attention turning to something else. He walks over to the freezer and digs out the ice packs that we kept frozen for any injuries that might surface.

When he turns around, his eyes are trained on me, a scowl engrained in his features. He sets the icepack down, before he turns to me, grabs my waist and lifts me up onto the countertop. I am caught off guard by his actions, a gasp leaving my lips from his sudden movements. His hands on my hips the most amount of physical touch that has ever been shared between the two of us.

I train my eyes to the floor, not daring to meet his gaze. He had stepped away again, digging through the cabinets for what I think is the first aid kit. I begin to let my thoughts wander, the dull ache in my jaw pulling me back to the moment that it happened. The pure evil hidden behind his eyes, the look of absolute enjoyment he had as he watched me struggle, his hands rough and violent against my body. But I am snapped back to reality by Dean’s gentle touch, his fingertips gingerly raising my chin to look at him. Tears are beginning to form in my eyes, adrenaline wearing off and emotion taking back over. I take a deep breath, hating the way my lip quivers, still dreading showing weakness to the older Winchester. He notices, he notices all of it, but he doesn’t say anything. He gently wipes away my tears and brings a cold cloth to my lip, cleaning up the cut from the first punch. I can feel anger radiating off of his skin, even though his touch is displaying the complete opposite.

“Did Chris do this?” He asks, his attention moving from the split in my lip to the gash on my forehead. I hiss as he wipes it clean, an antiseptic wipe pinched between his fingers, he mutters a slight apology, but continues patching me up.

“Yeah, he did. He lost it on me this morning, over nothing. It’s my fault though, I ignored all of his messages after I came home last night, so he was angry.” Dean freezes, his fingers stilling on my skin. I look up at him, confused as to why he stopped and I notice his jaw is clenched so tight that it has to be painful.

“Don’t ever say those words again, you hear me?” He locks his eyes on mine, fury absolutely radiating off of every inch of his body. “None of this, none, is your fault, you got it?” His words are sharp and pointed, his intent clear. I nod in response, he obviously didn’t want to hear anymore, got it. I would keep my mouth shut.

He continues patching me up, before he stills, looking me over from head to toe once more. He hands me the ice-pack he had laid out and instructs me to keep it on my jaw. He turns his back to me and washes his hands in the kitchen sink.

“Where does the fucker live?” He asks, his voice low and so calm that it scares me slightly.

“Why Dean?” This is when he snaps, the anger that has been coursing through him coming out in one big tsunami of a wave, now that he knows I am okay.

“Because I am going to go beat the absolute hell out of him, show him a bit of his own medicine.” He says, each word leaving his lips like a bullet leaving a gun. Dangerous and aimed at one specific target.

I sit quietly, unsure how to respond.

“Why? I didn’t think you’d care this much, figured-“

“Oh for fucks sake!” He interrupts me and I jump from the sheer volume of his voice, he walks back over to me and stands directly in between my knees, he rests his hands on my thighs and his eyes meet my own once again.

“I have always cared about you Y/N, from that day you showed up at our motel. Your search for Sam finally at an end. I have watched you let men into your life that don’t give two shits about you, I have watched how they treated you and I have hated every single one. None of them deserve you, they are all pitiful excuses for boyfriends. I heard you crying to Sam, each time one of them broke your heart and I had to sit back and not do anything about it. You deserve more than anyone can give you, including myself. Which is why I never said anything, I kept you at a distance. I can’t do that anymore, I can’t keep watching you put yourself into these situations. God, if you hadn’t left, he could have killed you. Probably would have killed you, and then I never would have been able to tell you that I-, that I love you.” He says, his voice growing less angry after each word leaves his mouth. My brain is spinning by the end of his speech, his words swirling around my head making me dizzy. He squeezes my leg gently, causing me to snap back to reality once again.

I blink at him, once, twice, three times before his words finally settle over me and I am completely speechless. I never saw this coming, I admit I have feelings for him, but I had pushed them so far away because of his hatred for me.

“Dean, I-I don’t know what to say. I always thought you hated me, so I supressed my feelings for you, I dated other men because I thought you would never want anything to do with me. I’m sorry, that I hurt you. I love you too.” I whisper, my hands coming to rest on top of his. He tugs me towards him, his fingers digging into my hips and sliding me across the counter into his embrace.

“God, Y/N, I am so sorry he did this to you. He will never lay a finger on you again, I promise.” He says, his voice barely registering because of how quiet he is speaking. I can hear how close he is to tears, but don’t mention it to him. I hug him back and relish the way his touch makes me feel. How safe I am in his presence, every fear melting away.

I hear the door to the bunker open and Sam calls out a greeting. Dean pulls away from me slightly, but keeps his hand resting on my thigh.

“In the kitchen Sammy.” He calls out, and gently squeezes my leg in reassurance.

Sam rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks, his eyes locking on my bruised face and anger quickly replaces the initial shock.

I look away from him, shame creeping over me. I put myself into the situation and this was the outcome, now both of them are aware of what I got myself into and it is crashing down on me in waves. I hear Dean talking to Sam, explaining everything that had happened. By the end of it, both boys were rearing to go track him down and give him a taste of his own medicine, or worse. Little did we all know, they were about to get their chance and they wouldn’t even have to leave the bunker.

A knock sounds at the door and Sam trails off mid sentence, glancing between Dean and myself, an obvious attempting at asking if we were expecting someone. Neither of us were, and suddenly it hit me. He’s here, he had followed me. My heart is in my throat, my breathing is heightened and shallow. My eyes meet Deans and he knows exactly what I am thinking. “Stay here, sweetheart. Sam, let’s go.” He says, giving me one last look before the two of them walk out of the room and towards the source of the incessant knocking. I don’t listen however, I slide down off the counter and hurry after them. Not wanting to be left alone and waiting to find out the outcome of this visit. Dean throws open the door to the bunker, immediately grabbing my now ex-boyfriend by the collar of his shirt and pushing him backwards away from the entrance. Sam is quick to step outside next to Dean, the boys creating a wall between me and Chris. Dean withholds the fury of his fist and issues quite a few colorful threats, instilling a healthy fear into Chris. He pulls him up by his shirt again and shoves him towards his car. They stand, watching him leave before turning and heading back into the bunker. Sam is quick to be by my side, pulling me into a hug. Apologies flying from his lips. I reassure him that I am okay, my eyes remaining locked on Dean. Hoping that the moment that we had shared wasn’t a one time thing, dying to once again be in his arms.

I excuse myself from the two of them, heading to the bathroom to clear my head. I spend a few minutes in there, my hands gripping the edge of the sink. Taking breath, after breath, trying to pull myself together. The whirlwind of a day, completely blindsiding me. I open the door to the bathroom and scan the hallway, empty. I take a chance and cross the hall towards Dean’s room. Knocking on the door and being beckoned in by his voice on the other side of the door.

I open the door and cross the threshold, closing the door quietly behind me. His eyes are on me immediately and I stare back at him, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. Four words hang heavy in my throat, fear of rejection constricting my voice. I clear my throat and finally utter the words I had been thinking.

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course I did, Y/N. I will always mean it.” He whispers, and that is all it takes for me to cross the room and throw my arms around him. He immediately hugs me back, tugging me as close to him as physically possible. His lips press against my forehead, sending shivers down my spine. The warmth his body provides is all consuming and like heaven on earth. A feeling that I had never had before, it was clear that this was where I was meant to be.

“I will always keep you safe Y/N, I promise you that. I love you.” Dean says, his lips brushing against my skin as he speaks. I knew he meant it with all of his heart and that was more than enough for me.

2K notes · View notes

choerypetal · 1 month

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The Curse / Sam and Dean Winchester

summary: Sam and Dean had always harbored feelings for you, but their age gap and fear of losing you kept them from expressing it. It wasn't until a lust curse was cast as payback that their true emotions came to light. (reader is in her mid-twenties and the boys 30)

P.S. I apologize for any grammar errors as English isn't my first language, and this is my first smut. I hope you enjoy it!

xo'

Residing in the Bunker had its own challenges, but sharing the space with two strikingly attractive men, while grappling with an uncontrollable curse, took it to a whole new level. The memory was vivid: against the stern advice of the Winchester brothers, you clandestinely hitched a ride in the Impala's trunk on that fateful hunt, only to find yourself prey to a witch's curse upon stepping out. In an instant, you were ensnared by the curse, your eyes ablaze with desire, cheeks flushed, consumed by a newfound craving you hadn't even known existed—starvation for touch.

“Oh sweet mother,” Dean’s voice echoed as he saw you. Your eyes always seemed to search for something—or someone, to be precise. The headmistress's witch, with her all-too-familiar wicked laugh, had cast her final spell, a curse she ensured would take effect as soon as she died in Dean’s arms. The monster was indeed dead, but when Dean met Sam’s gaze, he knew the hunt was far from over.

Your mind, however, was focused elsewhere. The symptoms hadn't appeared yet, but the Winchesters made it clear that back at the bunker, any spell books or the help of Rowena would be useful. “I just hope it’s not,” Dean said, a look on his face prompting Sam to bring him back to reality. Flirtations were not part of the ordeal, especially given how vulnerable you had become. “It’s not contagious, although I wouldn’t mind,” Dean said cockily. Sam rolled his eyes with a ‘really?’ kind of look. Dean shrugged, seemingly oblivious to Sam's attraction to you. But unlike his older brother, Sam had some boundaries, especially right now.

“We need all the help we can get,” Sam said, trying his best to remain composed. Despite his reluctance, he knew his brother was right. The love curse, though unintended, might have been advantageous for the hunt. You had stubbornly insisted on joining them from the start, and now the little payback didn't seem so bad, did it? Sam thought to himself, watching your eyes glimmer with fascination at everything your eyes gazed upon. He couldn’t help but chuckle, finding it adorable as your soft voice finally caught the attention of both boys. “Um… Guys?” Dean was the first to focus on you, raising an eyebrow. That’s when they both realized: your pouty lips, signaling the symptoms were starting to show. Regardless, the brothers knew they would eventually have to escort you out.

“Bunker, now.”

The orders were clear, the drive however. Another story.

Dean couldn’t help but wonder how you were feeling in that moment. A multitude of questions raced through his mind as he tried not to compare it to anything else. Amidst the tension, Sam ensured you remained still. Despite this, your hips pressed against another, and your hands yearned for touch. When you noticed the rope tied around your wrists, Sam gave you a pitying look. He felt bad, but it was the only solution they could think of. “We are close, love,” he reassured you.

Love.

"Love? Really?" Dean mouthed to Sam, hoping you neither heard nor noticed. Sam shrugged, genuinely trying his best, though he couldn't deny feeling a bit turned on by the rope. If it weren't for the damn curse. “And you said, ‘no flirting,’” Dean said, almost offended. But his attention quickly shifted when you asked them a question.

“Is something wrong with me?”

Your voice was soft and innocent as you spoke. “No, sweetheart, we just need to gather some information back at the bunker and get you cleaned up,” Dean replied. It was payback time. Sam’s glare was obvious, while Dean smirked, deliberately emphasizing the word "sweetheart." You of course, had simply nodded in respond. The mood shifted as soon as the Impala parked in front of the bunker.

The three of you entered the bunker, and little did you know, Dean had prayed during the drive for Rowena’s presence. She wore an expression that made both brothers uneasy, knowing they’d have to deal with your current state. “Why don’t you go to your room, Y/N?” Sam suggested with a smile, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Adult talk.” His gesture stirred feelings you hadn’t experienced in a while, making you gulp nervously. Trying to hide your flushed cheeks, you nodded and quickly left for your room.

"So," Rowena's voice chimed in Dean's ear, a sound he was never fond of, especially when he suspected she had some scheme in mind. Whether her intentions were good or bad, the sound of her smirking lips was unsettling, even without her holding any cards. "Why the urgency, boys?" she asked, leaning against the bunker's table. Her eyes scanned the two men, observing as Sam nervously rubbed the back of his neck and Dean swallowed hard before he could speak. "It's Y/N."

Rowena gave an 'oh?' kind of look, as if she wasn’t already aware of Dean’s confessional prayer a few hours earlier. She relished the moment, knowing full well that nothing could actually cure your curse. "I am afraid," she teased, her tone making it clear that any attempts—whether spells or exorcisms—would be futile. Dean’s brows furrowed in frustration. "And how do you think she’ll let us? Won’t it, you know, ruin the relationship between the three of us?"

Sam glare at his brother. “Really?” he almost looked offended. As if his brother was pretending not to overlook, while being clear with the attraction the two Winchesters had toward you. And you being more the secretive type, it wasn’t clear if you were in the same page either.

Little did the brothers know, you couldn't help but be overwhelmed by your own sexual thoughts. The symptoms were beginning to show, and by the time you reached your bed, you felt butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to feel your fingers traveling over your body, down between your thighs. Fortunately, with the brothers a few rooms away, you managed to steal Sam’s laptop and sneak into your room.

The urgency was palpable as you slid under your covers, removing your shorts and leaving yourself in just a shirt and underwear. You knew you had to be quiet. After typing your favorite porn video into the keyboard, quickly grabbing some headphones. As you watched the video intently, you couldn't help but imagine yourself as the girl and the two men as Dean and Sam.

Sam and Dean knew that once Rowena was finished, they’d have to take action. This led Sam to wonder about the whereabouts of his laptop. "Did you stole my laptop again?" he asked irritably, prompting Dean to retort, "You know me better than that, Sammy. If I’d stolen your laptop, I would have left it there." This was true, given the number of times they had lived together and Sam had found his laptop the next morning with a few porn sites left open.

"Perhaps I left it in my room," Sam said with a resigned sigh. Little did he know that his laptop was actually in your hands. Hearing faint moans from the opposite room, he couldn’t resist sneaking in. There, he found his laptop next to you, serving as a monitor. Your eyes were closed, your top and covers off, your breasts exposed. "Sam... Dean..." you murmured, making Sam's jaw clench. Dean had been right.

Dean noticed it was taking longer than expected and, irritated, went to check on his brother. "Sam—" he began, but was immediately cut off. "Shhh... she's..." Sam's whisper was enough to make Dean furrow his brow. As he moved closer to his brother, his eyes darkened. The way you moaned their names was irresistible. The two men exchanged glances, unable to help but ponder the situation, both of them aware of the bulges now evident through their pants.

As your eyes opened slightly, you felt your cheeks flush at the sight of their silhouettes lingering just beyond the bedroom's threshold. Meeting their gaze, your eyes then glanced down between their legs, silently pleading for something more. With your hand now free, you reached out, beckoning them to enter. "I want more…" The curse had taken its toll, the symptoms ready to manifest, and both brothers instantly agreed.

Dean was the first to enter, swiftly taking Sam’s laptop and closing it as you knelt down, the palm of your hand gently caressing the obvious bulge in his pants. A smirk played on your lips as you gently unzipped his jeans, while Sam preferred to watch from the corner of your bed. His eyes were fixed on the scene unfolding before him, unable to resist grasping his own dick. Your gaze, filled with lust, shifted between them both, and as Dean's cock revealed itself under his boxers, you couldn’t help but look at it in awe. “Can, I?”

"It's all yours, princess," Dean's voice was hoarse, his fingers gently caressing your cheek as he lifted your chin slightly to admire your face once more. "Enjoy it," he said, and you nodded with pleasure, leaning in to press a few kisses on the top of the rim. You heard him groan as his hips moved slightly, feeling your tongue around his cock, swirling as you managed to gulp it all the way down. Before releasing it, your fingers gently jerked it off, while your other hand massaged his balls.

Dean's head leaned back, the tension in the room palpably sexual. Before he could reach climax himself, his fingers cupped your face. Your pouty lips drew his attention, and he said, "Need to leave some for Sammy," now seated in the corner of your bed, allowing Sam to shift between the two with innocent eyes, which made you giggle at his reaction. "Come here," you said, now fully focused on Sam.

And there you were, the three of you entangled on the bed. Sam's hips thrusting inside you, the tip of his cock teasing your clit with each motion. His breath was heavy as your eyes locked, leaning in to kiss your lips hungrily. You felt his tongue wrap around yours before he bit your bottom lip. Your eyes rolled back as you realized how big Sam's cock was compared to Dean's. "That's it, baby girl. Gotta take it all before my brother finishes you up," he murmured, urging you on.

Dean, on the other hand, made sure you were just as occupied and focused. His cock filled your mouth as you managed to stifle your moans from Sam's thrusts. "There, there," he groaned, moving his hips to mirror Sam's movements. Eventually, Sam withdrew from the soreness of your pussy, now so pink. He couldn't bear to leave without planting a few kisses on your clit before leaving Dean to finish you off.

"It's my turn," the older brother declared, giving Sam a playful push, eliciting a chuckle from him as he admired how sore you had become. First, Dean licked his bottom lip, then leaned between your legs, eagerly eating you out. You felt his tongue tracing circles around your clit, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's so small," he teased with a smirk, "just like our baby girl." Sam joined in, barely giving you time to exhale a moan before his dick was in your mouth. "When we say we're not finished, we mean it," he added firmly.

Dean's cock felt different from Sam's, but despite the soreness in your pussy, the pressure was intensely present. It was thick, reaching deep inside you, almost to your stomach. Your back arched from the constant pleasure, and the brothers made sure your body would be covered with hickeys from head to toe. Sam withdrew from your mouth, leaving you to jerk him off as you said innocently, "I'm about to cum." This was enough for the brothers; Dean also withdrew, teasingly brushing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your legs shake from the orgasm. Their cum landed on your stomach. What the three of you didn’t know was that as soon as you came, the symptoms began to fade away. The curse was gone.

"You okay?" Dean asked with concern, noticing you had returned to reality and chuckling softly at your current state, which made the two brothers more worried. Was the curse really gone? Sam looked at his brother, and Dean could only shrug, waiting for your response. "Yes..." you said softly. "And it took a curse to finally..."

"Finally?" Sam's brow arched as he looked between his brother and you. Before he could say more, you chuckled again. "For us to finally express it." Despite the unusual circumstances, the two brothers couldn't help but smile, chuckling as they both leaned against your bed, scooping you in between them. "So you knew?" Dean asked, almost offended by the efforts he'd made to keep his feelings hidden, fearing it would ruin the friendship. "Told you," Sam said teasingly. "You owe me 50 bucks."

You glared at Sam and smacked his chest before he wrapped his arms around you, sneaking kisses into the crook of your neck. It was his obvious way of making you forget the ordeal. As you rolled your eyes, you said, "I guess curses at least have some benefits." The two brothers rolled their eyes. "Even if I don't like it, I prefer you this way," Dean confessed. Although you appreciated the sentiment, you couldn't help but tease in response.

“Say mister flirt,”

Dean, almost offended, attacked you with kisses, making you laugh. "Ours," he said with a proud smirk. You returned his smile and kissed his cheek.

"All yours," you replied warmly.

#supernatural x reader #supernatural preferences #supernatural imagines #dean winchester x yn #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagines #winchesters x reader #smut x reader #spn smut #spn x reader #spn fanfic #spn x y/n #spn imagine #spn x you #spn imagines #jensen ackles x reader #jared padalecki x reader

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deadlynightshadeloki · 2 years

Text

IMAGINE

How Dean and Sam react when they realize they're in love with you...

DEAN:

You see Dean sitting on the couch with a very angry expression on his faces.

"Are you okay?" you ask as you get close to him

"Fine!" Dean responds dryly.

Okay, even weirder...

"Are you sure? You look angr-"

"I'm fine, okay? Leave me!"

You raised your eyebrows totally in shock. Dean had never been rude to you like that, at least for no apparent reason.

"Clearly you're not okay. Tell me what's going on!"

"FUCK, Y/N! Can't you just leave me alone?" he gets up, well changed.

"No when you're treating me so badly. I didn't anything!" You cross your arms, upset and very nervous.

"I love you, okay? I love you so much!" Dean declares practically screaming.

"And you get mad because you love me?" You scream too.

"YEAH!"

#sam winchester x y/n #sam x y/n #dean x you #sam winchester imagine #spn fic #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam x you #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #supernatural dean #dean/you #dean and yn #dean winchester

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chucksfavouriteprophet · 2 years

Text

The Intrusion - (Series Masterlist)

Dean Winchester x Reader (F)

Summary: Having lived alone in your secret batcave for years now, the last thing you expected was two burly hunters to come storming in acting like they own the place. Somehow, you've got to make this strange dynamic work, but inevitably secrets will spill and hearts will break in the process.

Chapter 1 - Life is fine. Life is peaceful. Its just you, and your nice big home, with no one to bother you, and no one to invade your privacy. Until all of a sudden, there is.

Chapter 2 - Even as you start to adjust to life with housemates, you can't quite figure out the Winchester boys. Although sooner or later, you're bound to end up in a situation where you have to.

Chapter 3 - Accidents make emotions run high, and its not long before you confront Dean about his attitude towards you. However, all may not be as it seems.

Chapter 4 - You make some risky decisions once the brothers are gone, knowing they'll bite you in the ass at some point. When you finally see Dean again, not in the most appropriate position, the dynamics seem to have twisted.

Chapter 5 - Dean reflects on the events of the night and battles with his feelings for you, torn between hatred and tenderness. On different sides of one door, the pair of you battle your conflicting emotions completely oblivious of each other.

Chapter 6 - As you and Dean start to face your feelings, you start to accept that you need to communicate to make things work. A compromise is struck which meets all living arrangements, but it might mean a new career is on the cards.

Chapter 7 - You join the brothers on your first hunt, which reveals some surprising talents that prompt you to come clean about your past.

Chapter 8 - After the hunt, Dean gives you a surprise that brings you closer and sparks start to fly. That is, until the mood is seriously ruined and all hopes of the two of you getting along seem doubtful.

Chapter 9 - Dean gets back from his excursion and you bump into him in the kitchen. Emotions are running high, but is this what you both need to finally break the ice for good?

Chapter 10 - You and Dean deal with the aftermath of the previous night's events and Cas arrives with bad news from Heaven.

Chapter 11 - In preparation for the Demon invasion, you and Dean team up. But as you flirt your way around, you loose sight of where you are and end up stumbling into some very personal, and painful, memories.

Chapter 12 - You return to the bunker only to be met by an unwelcome visitor with even more unwelcome news.

Chapter 13 - The time has come to put your skills to the test. A social recluse, 2 seasoned hunters, an Angel and the King of Hell vs...well, everyone else from Hell. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter 14 - The aftermath of the fight leaves a life on the line and brings emotions to the surface.

Chapter 15 - Our dysfunctional family come together to embrace a second chance at life together and take a more positive outlook on the future.

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iamleesi · 2 months

Text

THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER

Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader

Summary: You have some kind of nightmare and Bucky wakes you up but he’s still a prick and you have a fight.

Warnings: Flashback, mention of experiments, hydra facility, creepy stuff and I probably forgot something so forgive me. -> 18+ !!

Other: English isn’t my fist language so I apologize for eventual mistakes.

-> Masterlist

-> Part three ; Part five

-> Nonie (04)

A little you was sitting in the corner of your room. The place you called home was clean and sterile, empty of any unnecessary comforts - not that you knew what the word truly meant. The only source of light was coming from the single light bulb hung from the ceiling, and your bed - big enough to at least fit you - was pushed against a wall, it’s thin mattress covered in white sheets.

The walls were bare; you were not given anything normal kids your age had to at least make it seem more than just a prison. It was naked of any type of decoration, no pictures or paintings… just plain grey. And you loved it.

One day, your usual routine was changed. Up until then you had been alone, the only people you talked to were the scientists and Mrs White who came in to see how you were doing and tell you all about the process they were making thanks to you. But that day, you remember the sound of that huge, scratched iron door open and an Hydra agent escorting a girl into the room.

Not a word was exchanged before you and the new person were left alone. To be honest, you were curious but also confused - why did they brought her in all of a sudden? Was she another special girl? Were you not good enough anymore? You didn’t like that idea.

You watched as she went to sit on the other corner of the room, her head low, and you spent the whole day listening to her sobbing. Why was she crying, you did not know. How could she cry when she was in the safest place on earth?

Ungrateful. And she was evidently older than you, maybe sixteen or even seventeen - she should have understood her worth already at that age.

In the days that followed, you learned absolutely nothing about her. She never spoke and she spent most of her time confined to her side of the room - she wasn’t even given a mattress, and she did nothing to let you know if perhaps she was tired of sleeping on the floor. All you heard were her hums at night, melodies you didn’t know.

But for some reason, you liked having her there.

Eventually, days turned into weeks and your curiosity towards her only grew and it almost became an obsession - you wanted to get her to talk but never succeeded. Each day, like a clockwork, the girl was escorted out of the room by Hydra agents and each day, when she would return, her demeanor grew more unsettling.

“And so today Mrs White gave me a candy. She said I deserved it after I found where those criminals were hiding.” You said, hopping onto your bed as you stared at her - she was finally given one too, and now she did nothing rather than lay on it as days passed by. “Did she ever give you a candy? The one that looks like a bear - have you ever seen a bear?”

At your questions, all you could hear was nothing except her breathing. There wasn’t even a window in there. “Oh, yeah. You don’t talk. Mrs White says that when people ignore you, they are being extremely dis- dispec - I don’t remember the word she used. But it’s not nice!”

Nothing. She didn’t even blink, sometimes you had to walk over there to check if she was still breathing. “Whatever.” You sighed. “I’ll bring you a candy next time I’m done with a successful mission. Maybe you’ll talk to me. Or I can steal one - maybe I could. I don’t know. What do you think? Do you want a candy?”

Silence.

“Alright. Then I’ll bring you one.” You smiled at her. “But you need to tell me your name, I can’t keep referring to you as the ‘new girl’, it’s been… I don’t know. But surely more than a day!”

The girl stayed silent. Her eyes fixated on the ceiling.

“Mrs White says my blood is fundamental for whatever they’re working on, you know? We’re here to save the world.” You continued. “She said there are some people who don’t want that, like Natasha Romanoff. The prodigy of the Red Room, have you ever met her? She came here a few years ago and taught me how to shoot properly. And now, turns out that she’s been corrupted.” You sighed “You’re a great listener, at least.” You turned around, giving your back to her. Maybe she just didn’t like you.

Still, no response. Not even a hum of acknowledgement.

Your frustration mounted with each passing day, your attempts to communicate with her were always ignored and you were met with nothing but silence.

“Is there something wrong, kid?” One of Hydra’s agents, Ezra you had learnt, asked you one day as he was escorting you back to your room after another evening of restless training. You had to be at your best, they said, all the time.

“No.” You sighed, as your body felt like burning - that day they had gone heavy on you, but you managed well. You were the only survivor, as per usual. “When can I go outside? I want to help on the field.”

“Soon enough, kid. We have a problem in stars and stripes to take care of. Mrs White believes you can do it.”

You felt a sense of pride in you at his words. That man, they called him Captain America, was a heavy problem for the world. He was the one who kept ruining any attempt to make the world a better place, always stepping in to cause chaos. He needed to be eliminated and you wished it would be you to do so, after all you had the skills to do it.

“Then I won’t disappoint her.”

Once you got back to your room with the biggest grin ever, you saw Nonie - as you nicknamed her - sitting on her bed with her back on the wall, staring straight ahead of her. You sat right in her line of view, which was on your mattress, crossing your legs one over the other. “Guess what?”

Blank stare.

“I’ll kill Mr Captain America one of these days. I know I’m not as skilled as Winter is, but I can do it. I know I can.” You started to ramble convinced that she wouldn’t pay attention to you since she never did, but soon enough, too focused on your own words, you felt a hand on your tight.

A cold, almost imperceptible touch. She had walked towards you, kneeling down in the end as her legs were too weak to hold her light weight for longer than a few steps.

You stared into her soulless eyes for a moment, before she shook her head.

“No? What - what do you mean no?” You looked at her dumbfounded. “You don’t want me to kill him? Nonie, I h-”

But before you could continue, she crawled back to her bed in the same position she was in. You stayed silent too, for a moment. For a long, tense moment.

“So you can understand what I’m saying! You can hear me!” You realized, getting up. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

Nonie made a movement with her pale hand to tell you to get closer to her - which you did without second thinking. Those few steps felt like happening in slow motion and once you were right in front of her, she raised that same hand to her mouth; her fingers grazing the edge of her lips.

You frowned, but you didn’t have the time to utter a word that she stuck out her tongue - or what was left of it.

≈

“For fuck’s sake - Emma!” Your eyes snapped open at Bucky’s voice, your heart racing in your chest as you sat up in bed, your forehead almost colliding against his.

You couldn’t help but dream about her, giving what you and Dean had saw just hours prior. She always came back into your memories one way or another, whether it was with a nightmare or just with a simple thought during the day - she was always there, in the back of your mind. And no matter how much years had passed since then, Nonie wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Bucky spoke again with a sharp tone. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I’ve been trying to wake you up the whole night.”

You blinked in confusion, caught off guard by his harsh tone and the fact that he was sitting so close to you. “I’m sorry.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “I had a nightmare.”

Bucky’s expression unexpectedly softened, though you could still sense some irritation. You knew he had trouble sleeping too, and waking up in the middle of the night due to someone else’s problems wasn’t really ideal. “Nightmare, huh? Great, now we’re both awake.”

You closed your eyes and took a breath for a moment as you tried to find the right words to say. You never meant to disturb him but you could not control how your mind worked - and Wanda wasn’t even there to help you. Sometimes you gave her permission to get inside your head and erase the bad memories for one night so you could properly rest, but she wasn’t with you and so you had to do it alone. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Bucky let out a heavy sigh, his demeanor softening ever so slightly. “Look, I’m sorry for snapping at you.” He admitted gruffly. He better than anyone could understand how you mist be feeling, and he could have approached it better. “It’s been a long day and I guess I’m just on edge.”

You huffed. “Believe me, I know.”

Bucky exhaled as he was still sitting on your bed, the situation becoming awkward. He got up, but didn’t leave quite yet. You saw some uncertainty in his eyes before he spoke again.

“Food always helps me with nightmares.” He cleared his throat, his tone softer than before. But not much, he was still Bucky Barnes after all. “Come downstairs with me. Dean left some pizza in the fridge before leaving.”

You noticed you were hungry now that he mentioned food. Once you and Dean got home after the investigation, still unsure of what you saw - or, rather, still hoping your mind had played an awful joke on you, you went straight in your room. You had left the task to explain things to Sam and Bucky to Dean.

“One thing I learned about Dean is that he becomes a mad man if someone touches his food.” You let out a small chuckle, getting up the bed.

“He left it for you.” Bucky admitted.

“Oh.” That was surprising. “I was going to eat it anyway but I will feel less guilty knowing it was already mine.”

Together you made your way downstairs to the kitchen, the silence was oddly comfortable for once. You sat down while Bucky took the pizza box from the fridge and tossed it your way. Action you thanked with a smile.

He rummaged through the cabinets searching for something to eat himself. He sat on the chair beside yours with a box of homemade biscuits - wait, homemade biscuits?

“The old lady that lives on the other side of the street brought these over today, when you and Dean were at the Miller’s house.” He explained after reading your expression. “We’re invited at her niece’s birthday party this weekend, by the way. I said yes.”

You being invited to a party full of strangers wasn’t really on the list of the things you liked to do since you were as social as a rock but what you wanted went into the toilet the second you became an Avenger. Like that time you and Pietro were sent on a mission on a yacht - you were scared as hell of the sea after a certain God of Mischief made you watch Titanic changing the finale with your face instead of Rose’s. But that was another story.

“Great.” You sighed.

“So, the investigation. How did it go? You came home quite traumatized.” He raised a brow, and you didn’t miss the judgement in his tone.

You stiffened for a second, your mind went inevitably back there just as soon as you were starting to think about something else. “I wasn’t traumatized. I just… if you had seen that, you would have understood.”

Bucky scoffed. “What? Seeing the breakdown of an hysterical old lady after she lost her daughter doesn’t seem so terrible compared to what we’re used to, come on now.”

You frowned. That was the last of your concerns, you weren’t a therapist or something but a breakdown was certainly not that woman’s biggest problem. “Dean didn’t- he didn’t tell you everything?”

It was Bucky’s time to frown. “He told us what happened. You two arrived there, the woman was obviously grieving her missing daughter and she had a break down after asking one too many questions which led to her kicking you out.” He reassumed everything Dean had said. “Isn’t that all?”

You gulped. Dean kept his mouth shut about that, and you wondered why. Bucky knew what Hydra was capable of, but that? That was something beyond imaginable. Still, before talking to Bucky about it you wanted to know why Dean kept it a secret and why he didn’t seem to freak out as any other normal person would - beside you.

“No, that’s all.” You said after a moment, sounding as sincere as possible. “It’s just… her daughter’s probably dead and… and seeing her reaction wasn’t easy.”

“Mh.” He nodded, seeming to believe you. “Rich coming from you.” He said after, turning back into himself - for a second there you almost forgot how infuriating he was.

“Excuse me?”

“Rich coming from you.” He repeated casually. “Didn’t you use to kidnap people yourself for Hydra? Or maybe… bring back the ones lucky enough to break free from their control?

You stayed momentarily silent. “No.” You answered. “I never kidnapped anyone or brought back anyo- what the fuck is your problem, man?”

“I have absolutely zero problems, but I wonder if you even have the right to feel bad when you used to do the same to innocent people - willingly.” His tone was as light as if he was talking about a damn football game.

“You killed dozens of people too.”

“I was brainwashed, and I feel guilty enough. You were not.” He fired back. “And you never apologized.”

“I was a fucking child, Barnes.” You reminded him, clenching your jaw. “I thought I was doing the right thing by complying, just like you were!”

“I know that, Dayne, I’m not an idiot. But you’ve been indoctrinated with their ideas all your life, which is exactly why I wonder how the fuck it is that you’re on our side now.” He said, leaning back on the chair. “I’m not attacking you, just curious.”

“It’s been ten years, it took me a long time to see things the right way.” You said, really stopping the urge to flip the table and walk out dramatically. “And it looks like an attack to me.”

“It’s not.” He remarked. “You know, Rumlow was a SHIELD agent while being loyal to Hydra. If he did it, I won’t get off the table the fact that you could be doing the same.”

“I never joined Hydra willingly, I was born there!” You shot back to that lunatic asshole. “Rumlow joined those people because he believed in their ideas, to me their ideas were the only thing I’ve ever known! Excuse me if I didn’t know a difference between the good and the bad when I was told that killing people was the only way humanity could survive!”

He sighed at that. Maybe he had been too harsh?

“You’ve been brainwashed in a way, and I in another. If you think I’m some kind of monster for what I did or I cannot be trusted, then we may not be so different.” You spat while pulling yourself up from the chair with force, the legs scrapping against the floor. “And if you wake me up again I’ll stick that metal arm up your ass.”

With that, you left him in the kitchen alone. Fuck him and fuck whatever his problem was.

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