#spn imagines

[supernaturalfreewill]

Dean's mouth was hanging open as he stared at you across the room. He watched you swipe a hand across your eyes and flick the gore off your fingers down onto the floor. "Oh shit. Oh my God. I'm so sorry," he said in a rush. He crossed the room toward you and looked you up and down. You were completely covered in blood and guts; vampire blood and guts. Dean stared down at the weapon in his hand, agape. "I didn't realize that would happen. I didn't know it would—would—"

You wiped at your mouth and spit onto the floor. "—explode him all over me?" you finished for him.

"No," he said, shaking his head. His green eyes were wide. "I'm so sorry," he said again. "Uhh—here—" He hurriedly tugged off his flannel and handed it to you with an apologetic look.

You mopped at your face, wiping the gore off as best as you could. Your eyes met Dean's again. "You owe me a dinner. A very nice dinner. At least."

He nodded, giving you a boyish smile. "Does it help if I tell you how badass you look, even covered in—"

You held up a hand to stop him and squeezed your eyes closed.

"No—yeah, okay..." he muttered.

"Get me to a shower. Now," you said, thrusting his shirt back at him.

"Yeah, you got it," he said. "Uhh—you know maybe we should walk? Baby's upholstery, you know?" You glared at him and your eyes seemed to smolder. "Yeah, you know what? You're right. It's fine. I'll just clean it after—yeah... my bad. Let's just get you to the hotel and—yeah..."

Prompt: "You owe me a dinner. A very nice dinner."

[stargazedwinchester]

Soft Sounds | Dean

Summary: Dean mocks you for listening to nature sounds/lo-fi music while you sleep.

Based off of this request here, thank you! <3

Word count: 996

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

Sleeping with any sort of noise has always been so comforting for you, having to live with the loud sounds of the world, all of the trauma you've endeavoured keeps you awake at night, memories creeping back from the most horrific times in your life.

You bought yourself your own little white noise machine a week ago, it makes multiple different sounds, and your favourites are lo-fi music and rain/thunder sounds. It's not every night that you have to use this, though, but it really does help. Especially with sleeping alone, your brain loves to play tricks on you during your quietest hours.

Tonight, you turn on your machine, clicking the button on top to change which sound you'd prefer to hear tonight. Your door is slightly ajar, knowing that the brothers were in the kitchen sharing a couple of beers and catching up. You had already told them you're going to have an early night for once and try to catch up on a lot of sleep you've missed out on recently. Doing this could probably help your awful sleep schedule.

You change into your pyjamas, a t-shirt and shorts combo that you threw on from the night before. Trying to look good while you slept is never the first thought since you literally live with two men who couldn't give any less of a crap, also, you're not dating either of them. You climb into bed and throw the covers over you, moving your hair out of your face, and lay on your side. Scrolling through your phone, you try to focus on the sounds coming from your machine, and within minutes, you're knocked out.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

As Sam and Dean call it a night, Sam stays to watch a movie in the main room, whilst Dean makes his way down toward the bedrooms. He notices your bedroom door is still slightly open, and he assumes you're awake.

"Hey, Y/-" He pauses, seeing you're fast out with your phone screen lit up, the lights still on and some noise coming from a weird-looking radio. He frowns, not knowing what is going on. He very quietly makes his way into your bedroom, and locks your phone, placing it on your bedside table. He dims the lights as he pads on over to your radio. "What the Hell is this?" He asks himself, keeping his voice just above a whisper. He glances at the tiny screen that presents what's playing. "She sleeps to this?" He scoffs, and a small grin appears on his face. He looks back at you, huffing. "This is such a Y/N thing to have." He says, standing back up and glancing over at you. Why would she ever own something like this? He thought to himself. It's stupid.

Your positioning in bed makes Dean chuckle to himself. You quite literally take up the whole bed, sprawled out like a starfish. It's mostly funny to him because of how cute you look when you're completely conked out. Your hair in your face, your shirt slightly riding up your torso from the amount of times you've tried to get comfy. "Hold on, is that my shirt?" He laughs quietly, admiring how natural you are.

Dean usually goes for the typical blonde, blue-eyed type of girl. The ones that show that they know they're sexy, that they can get any man they desire, but you - you were different. You never gave a damn about how you looked. If someone liked you, you'd make sure they get every single side of you, every single flaw and weakness. Having Dean see you completely barefaced and look like you just collapsed on your bed was the least of your worries.

Dean's gaze hovers over you for another minute or so, he catches himself smiling, noticing how comfy you are. You shuffle, which scares him a little, panicking that you're going to wake up to him watching you sleep.

"Dean?"

"Y-yeah?" He whispers, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"What are you doing in here?" You groan, wiping your hair out of your face, barely opening your eyes. "I um, heard your little radio thing and... I got curious." He says, an awkward smile appearing on his full lips. He reaches up and scratches the back of his head. You hum quietly in agreement with what he said. Whether Dean understood or not, it didn't matter. "Are you staying?" You mumble, shuffling yourself to the side to make more room. You quietly pat the side of the bed, inviting Dean to join you.

His heart skipped a beat. Sharing a bed with the only girl who genuinely liked him for him? It's almost unbelievable.

"Are you sure? I can go back to my room-"

"Dean, just get in." You say, pulling the covers open for him. His eyes lit up and the smile on his face looked as if it had been slapped on. He takes off his flannel shirt revealing his dark grey t-shirt underneath, and also taking his jeans off down to his underwear. He gently sits down on your bed, ensuring there's still enough space for you. He keeps his space, though, not wanting to give any wrong ideas. "Why were you looking at my machine?" You say, and Dean grins. "It looks weird. Why do you sleep with it?"

"It's to help me sleep."

"It's to help me sleep," He mocks, shutting his eyes. "Just sleep in silence, it's not that hard." He adds, and you huff. "So funny." You grin, slowly moving closer toward him. "It's nice though, really nice..." He trails, his eyes are fully shut, and his body is relaxing. "Come here," He says, adjusting himself so he's lying slightly above you, and you move in to lay on his chest, your leg intertwined with his. He keeps his arm rested above his head, his other hand caressing your hair. "This is nice," He mumbles, almost instantly drifting to sleep.

[dwonfilm]

There’s no life after you. | Dean Winchester x Reader (one-shot)

Summary: Dean felt like he had no other option than to push [Y/N] out of his life completely. When he and Sam find a case in her hometown, he’s hit with all of the emotions he’d tried for so long to bury.

Warnings: swearing, mild-angst, mostly sadness and ending with fluff.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Flashbacks are in bold.

Dean and Sam had found a case in Reno, Nevada—a city that had a lot of memories particularly for the older Winchester. Sure they’d worked a dozen or more cases around here over the years but that wasn’t the type of memories that kept playing on his mind. He only wished it was that simple. Sam had opted to take the backseat, needing some extra rest on the drive and Dean usually drove his precious ‘67 impala anyway. Ever since they’d found this case, the eldest Winchester was uneasy. Not because it was anything special, from the details online it seemed like it was just another vamps nest—maybe even just a handful travelling together.

No, what began to plague his mind was something that cut much deeper than that. All he could think about was you.

It had been roughly two years since he’d last seen you. Every other second of the last year and half had been him fighting the urge to reach out, knowing two things for certain. One: you’d be far better off without him holding you down. Two: even if that wasn’t the case, he’d really hurt you the last time you spoke and despite how much he missed you.. you’d likely never speak to him again—but that’s what he’d wanted right? You to move on, you to live a life that wasn’t plagued by the dangers of all things supernatural. Find a good man, a normal man, settle down.. get married and have kids. Not have to worry about tending to someone who had spent his entire life broken. Shaking his head to try and rid himself of these thoughts, it seemed the universe had other plans.

It seemed at some point in the drive his playlist had changed and delved into the ‘divorced dad rock’ side of things—the first few notes of what he recognized as a Daughtry song began to play. Seemingly just as they’d finally crossed the state lines into Nevada, the lyrics began..

“Ten miles from town and I just broke down, spitting out smoke on the side of the road. I’m out here alone, just trying to get home to tell you I was wrong but you already know. Believe me I won’t stop at nothing to see you so I’ve started running.”

Now Dean knew exactly what song this was and it damn sure wasn’t helping with his desperate need to stop thinking about you. He reached out to change the song but when the chorus hit, he stopped and his finger merely hovered above the button.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you—and I think that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we’ve been through. ‘Cause I know there’s no life after you.”

It was as if the song was delivered down by the hand of God himself, which only made the ache in Dean’s heart that much worse. He’d been in pain ever since he left two years prior, but he had no right to be—he knew that. After all, the reason he didn’t have you by his side was because he left. It was because he walked away. Deeply he’d sigh as the next verse again would line up with the exact thought in his head.

“Last time we talked, the night that I walked burns like an iron in the back of my mind. I must have been high, to say you and I, weren’t meant to be and just wasting my time. Oh why did I ever doubt you? You know I would die here without you.”

Death had truly paled in comparison to how he felt seeing the look in your eyes. All of the pain, the hurt as he watched you break in front of his very eyes. You’d been together three years in total, but what you didn’t know—what he refused to tell you is that his worst fear was becoming a reality. Lucifer had threatened you in order to make Dean comply with his demand. He’d figured out the only way to get to the elder Winchester was through you, seeing as Lucifer himself needed Sam for his own personal vendettas. It wasn’t long after this that Dean knew he had to get as far away from you as possible. All the pain and suffering he’d endured in his lifetime would be nothing if your death was due to him. He couldn’t live with that and more importantly, you deserved more than that out of this life.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you—and I think that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we’ve been through. ‘Cause I know there’s no life after you.”

Sam began to stir in the backseat, which he’s caught sight of through the rear view mirror and so Dean quickly changed the station. He’d use Metallica specifically to shift the mood before his brother woke up and started asking too many questions. Questions that Dean wouldn’t have the answers to and he was already battling his mind to keep it all at bay.

Gripping Baby’s wheel tightly in his hands, he’d continue to path to Reno. About fifteen minutes later was when Sam’s eyes actually opened. “Mornin’ sleeping beauty.” Dean said with a (fake) smile on his face. “Ha-ha, very funny. Wait.. how long was I out? Are we in Nevada already?” He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and noting their desert-like surroundings. “I don’t know, hours Sammy. Yeah we’re in Nevada—about an hour or two ‘til Reno.” Just saying the name of the city was enough to have him nervous again. There was a brief bit of silence between the brothers, Sam had a thought on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t know whether he should say it. Dean’s eyes had fixated on the road ahead and he sensed that his younger brother was gonna bring it up—bring you up, he’d always really liked you. Besides that, he could always seem to tell when things were troubling Dean despite his best efforts to hide it. “You know you could-“ Sam started but knowing it was coming, the elder brother immediately shut it down. “Sam, don’t. Please. I can’t and you know that.” Dean’s voice was shaky and that let him know that he’d already been thinking about things far too long. “You’ve been thinking about it. I know you, man. You think I didn’t see the look on your face when I told you we had something in Reno?” He sighed, knowing that his older brother was struggling with this didn’t make him feel good but he also knew it was making Dean feel worse. “Sammy, please.. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

Sam would shake his head but he let it go, rehashing this with Dean while he was attempting to drive wasn’t gonna end well for either of them. Not to mention an hour and a half of odd tension in such a small place wasn’t ideal either. Instead, the younger brother’s eyes averted from the front of the car altogether as he turned to gaze out the window next to him. Sighing partially in relief and partially from the lingering thoughts, Dean would fully place his attention on the road and on the directions to this particular motel. They needed to get in, solve this case and get out before he did something he’d been trying for quite some time not to do.

Surprisingly this case was a little more difficult to follow through on, these vampires were incredibly elusive and their nest wasn’t the easiest to find. However, after a couple days lingering around they finally located the nest and were able to kill the three vamps that had been killing the locals. As it had become part of the job, Sam and Dean went out to a local dive bar to celebrate the victory—but Dean was trying to do more than that. He was trying to drown the lingering thoughts of you with whiskey, swallowing the liquid and letting it gently burn his throat. This would end up having the opposite effect and only made him think of you more. Over the first hour and change the brothers spent at the bar, three separate girls tried to hit on Dean but he didn’t really pay them any mind. Around the two hour mark the elder of the brothers decided he needed some air, getting up and walking outside. Dragging his dominant hand over his face he was doing anything to cling to that last bit of pride that he had. You were better off and he knew that, but every day that had been lost it was eating at him slowly. He needed a distraction and so he walked over to his precious car, getting into the driver’s seat and sighing. One flick of the wrist and the lights would come on, the radio coming in clear as day: it was that goddamn song again.

“You and I, right or wrong, there’s no other one. After this time spent alone it’s hard to believe that a man with sight could be so blind, thinking about the better times.. must’ve been out of my mind. So I’m running back to tell you.”

Again it seemed like the universe had intervened and Dean Winchester was far too drunk to fight it. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and right now, all that he needed was you. He opened up the driver’s side door and got out just to come face to face with Sam, who had been worried when he couldn’t locate his brother in the bar. “What is it Dean?” He asked, noting the emotional state it was clear he was in—confused but not entirely. It wasn’t like him to be so open with his emotions, but you’d helped him with that. “I need to see her, Sammy. I can’t do this anymore.” There was enough emotion in his voice for his younger brother to know what he meant. Nodding Sam would approach the driver’s side door. “I’m driving, we’re not risking it with you.” Dean normally would protest but right now? All he needed to do was get to you. It didn’t matter how, he just needed to fill the void that he’d put there himself.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, without you god knows what I’d do.”

Dean’s eyes were technically gazing out the window, but that’s not what he saw. His mind was flashing different images in rotation—one happy memory with you followed up by something he’d done to chase your memory away after he’d run away.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you and I think that all that still matters is love ever after—after the life we’ve been through. I know there’s no life after you.”

It seemed fast, but it had probably been about thirty minutes of time that had passed. Not that you lived very far at all, if you were even still at the last address the Winchesters had for you—Sam took a longer route hoping that Dean would sober up a little more before talking with you. Anyone would be able to smell the whiskey on him at this moment, but his words needed to be coherent if there was any chance of you hearing him out. It seemed that he had sort of the same idea because even when the impala had pulled into the driveway, he just sat there. “What if she doesn’t wanna talk?” Dean asked, somber tone to his voice as his eyes remained fixated on the front door of what he hoped was still your home. Mind racing almost as fast as his heart. “Dean, if I know anything about [Y/N], she’ll at least listen—even if she’s incredibly pissed and still hurt.” Sam reassured his older brother. Dean sighed again, not wanting to waste another second and also wanting to see have some alcohol in his system for this conversation. Slowly he opened the passenger side door and stepped out onto the asphalt driveway. Gently closing the door, it had still alerted a dog inside the home who was barking just a little bit every couple of seconds. He carried himself up the few cement steps, turning to see the front door closer than ever. Now more memories of the last time he was here were coming back.

“Dean, please.. why are you doing this? You can’t possibly just have stopped loving me, that’s not..” Her sobs were breaking his heart but he knew this was something he had to do. “Why are you walking away from this? From us? After everything we’ve been through.. after the life we’ve built from the ground up.. you’re just throwing it all away.” She felt as if there was a fire in your chest, she’d been sobbing so intensely for what seemed like forever. Mascara and eyeliner were smudged and made a mess of the space underneath her eyes. “Say something, Dean—please.. why are you pushing me away? What did I do?!” Every word became far more intense and the actual words were hard to discern from the sobs. Dean had just been staring at the floor since the words left his mouth. Three years next to her and he never imagined this day would come, but if you died just so Lucifer could get one up on him? He’d never survive. He’d never be able to carry the weight of your death or your blood on his hands—so this was the only way you got to live a long and happy life without him putting you in harm’s way. “[Y/N/N] I.. I just don’t think we were meant to work out. I’m sorry, I just-“ he was cut off by her intense sobs hearing him saying it again. “Please Dean.. don’t do this.. whatever I did wrong, whatever’s not working we can fix it. Please..” She pleaded, voice already hoarse from the crying and the wailing. “Sweetheart you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me, I’m just, not made out for this relationship stuff.” He’d barely lifted his gaze again to meet her own, but only for a second. Seeing her like that was too hard for his heart to bare. “Why Dean.. please.. it’s been three years. Three years of this and we can talk about it. Whatever it is we can move past it together, don’t you love me anymore?” She sobbed out, arms wrapped around her own chest as Dean looked up to her face and met her gaze one last time. “Honey, I’ll love you ‘til the day I die.” Sighing he turned to walk out the front door, closing it and never looking back. He couldn’t look—his heart had already shattered.

Now here he was again, roughly two years later, taking the last few steps to fully stand at your front door. Lifting his hand which had formed a loose fist, he’d knock three times upon the wooden material of the door. There was no answer and no sign that anyone was home other than the dog barking that he’d heard moments prior. Dean was about to turn and walk back down the pathway when he heard the doorknob turning after the lock clicked out of position. “Do you know how late it is, what do you nee—“ her eyes widened when she realized who had just knocked at her door. “D-Dean.. what are you..” she felt her bottom lip quivering. Dean could tell this was the last thing she’d ever thought would happen. “Hi, sweetheart. I-“ before he could get another word out of his mouth, he was met with a harsh slap to the side of his face. His eyes fell as he collected his thoughts, waiting before speaking again. “I deserve that. I deserve that and so much more. [Y/N/N] I’m so sorry.. I’m so fucking sorry.” He got out, not being able to look back up at her just yet. “You’ve got some kind of nerve showing up here, this late at night.. Dean you broke my heart and you stomped on it to boot. Why do you think after two whole years that I’d listen to whatever the hell you have to say?” It was obvious that there was sadness and hurt laced within her voice, more so than the anger she’s trying to push forward. Slowly his head tilted back into its usual position and his eyes found hers again. “I know there’s no life after you.” It was all he could say in that second and her expression softened, before she’d built the wall back up. “You came all the way to quote a Daughtry song?”

“No, I’m quoting that damn song because for the three days Sam and I have been in Reno I’ve heard it everywhere. My car, in a store, hell in my head—[Y/N] I’ve been trying every day since I left to push your memory from my mind. I wanted so badly to forget about you and know that you were free to have a normal life. I also know that I’ve got no right to stand on your doorstep telling you how much pain I’ve been in since the second I walked out this door two years ago when this whole fucking thing is my fault.” He paused, tears slowly falling as he tried to blink them away. “[Y/N] I was afraid. I was so afraid.. I couldn’t lose you like that-“ Again he was cut off but just by her words this time. “Dean you did lose me, you pushed me away—fuck you pushed me out of your life altogether. You’re absolutely correct, you don’t have any right to stand here talking about your pain. I didn’t eat, I barely slept, for weeks after you left. All I did was lay on that couch and sob. Endlessly. After I couldn’t physically sob any more I thought, there has to be some kind of monster or witch doing this and so I researched for weeks and still barely ate and slept only a fraction more. All I came up with was dead end after dead end and so I finally had to realize the truth.” She sobbed out, pausing to try and steady her own voice. “You chose to leave on your own.” She’d opened her mouth to continue talking but now it was his turn to sob out, which caught her completely off guard. “He made me feel like I had no other choice..”

Now you stood with a perplexed look on your face as tears were streaming down your cheeks. “What.. who-“ before the question could even fully leave her lips, the man she loved began to speak again. “Lucifer. He needed Sammy, you know all that one true vessel shit, so he couldn’t hurt me that way. He knew any threat he put to Sam wouldn’t stick because deep down I knew that Lucifer needed Sam alive and well to complete whatever sick and twisted plan he had thought out.” She felt both her heart and her stomach drop, figuring out exactly where this was going. “[Y/N] he said he’d kill you and not think twice. I couldn’t.. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you died all because I love you. I wouldn’t be able to breathe knowing that your death was my fault and I’d never get your blood off my hands.” His confidence had wavered, the alcohol mostly wearing off. You sighed, a silence falling over the two of you as you attempted to process what he’d just said. “Dean.. why didn’t you just talk to me? Tell me what he said and we could’ve talked about it.” She asked, the venom gone from her words and a sadness settling over them. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to admit that I was scared especially to you, I’m the one that was supposed to keep you safe. I know that’s not an excuse and I’m not trying to excuse me hurting you like I did—that image of you hugging yourself and crying the hardest I’d ever seen someone cry has haunted me all this time. I never wanna hurt anyone but I damn sure never wanted to hurt you.. at all—let alone like that..”

Again a silence fell between them, it felt like a lifetime between their words and the action she’d finally take. Stepping forward she used both of her hands to cup his face, both having glassy hues due to all the tears. “I forgive you, Dean.” She said almost in a whisper. He felt his heart racing and he eyes searched hers for any sign that this might not be true. Seconds felt like hours but he couldn’t find any sign of deception and instinctively, he plunged forward to connect his lips with her own. It had caught her off guard but she was returning the kiss with an explosion of passion. They chased the other’s lips in a back and forth motion until they both couldn’t breathe. After pushing the limit a little further they’d separate but remain forehead-to-forehead. “I know there’s no life after you.” She spoke in a soft tone before pulling Dean inside of her home and re-locking the door.

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Feel Better?

kinktober day 27 - dry humping

Pairing: Dean x GN!Reader

Summary: In which you help Dean feel better after a bad day.

Warnings: Smut, dry humping.

A/N: So this was originally thigh riding but I honestly didn't know what to write so I ended up doing this. Hope you like it! :)

"Are you even enjoying that?" You asked Dean, smirking at him as the faint sound of moans echoed from his laptop.

You'd walked in on him watching porn, except he was sitting there scowling at the screen, his fingers pressed to his temple.

He looked up at you, straightening in his chair as he paused the laptop. "I was...just doing some uh...research."

"Some research." You said, walking over to him. "Kinda sounded like you were watching porn."

"Sorry." He chuckled, turning to face you.

"So what's up?" You asked him, folding your arms across your chest. "You got a face like thunder and you're watching porn."

He just shook his head at you, giving you a half-assed smile as he leaned back in the chair. "Nothing's wrong, just...a bad day, that's all."

"Anything I can do?"

"Oh, I dunno."

"You sure?" You asked, coming to straddle his lap as you draped your arms over his shoulders. "Cuz I have a few ideas."

"Oh yeah?" He smirked, his mood immediately lifting as his hands came to grip your ass. "What'd you have in mind?"

"Well it's better than porn, that's for sure."

"Uh huh?" He mumbled, his gaze falling to where you were currently grinding your hips over him.

You noticed his breath hitch in his throat when he lifted his gaze back to your face, his lips twitching up into a small smile as he looked at you.

You struggled to stifle a quiet moan when you rubbed yourself harder against him, heat beginning to pool between your thighs. Dean groaned in response, his hands coming to grip your hips as he helped you grind yourself over him.

"Feel better?" You asked him, leaning down to ghost your lips below his jawline.

He nodded. "So much better."

[Kinktober Masterlist] [Main Masterlist] [Dean Masterlist]

[mayfieldss]

Letting go, holding on - Dean Winchester

Content Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, alcoholism, cheating, depression, sexual innuendos, etc.

Summary: For years your situationship with Dean has been on the edge of extinction, but which way it dies depends on something not so simple.

What you had with Dean wasn't official, it never had been, and as far as the both of you were concerned it was nothing but business, mixed with a little pleasure when some things got tougher to bear than usual. It was something you never discussed outside of late nights in the dark, and the 'will they won't they last forever' thing was never once looked upon.

Sam saw it as a dangerous game, claiming to Dean and to you on separate occasions that these things never end how they are supposed to, and whether the both of you liked it or not, there was something there that was more than what you claimed it to be. More than just sex. But this was Dean Winchester, the man who had never spent more than a night in one place, the guy who had cut all women from his life at one time or another due to reasons that sometimes were unknown. You wouldn't risk being one of those women, and whilst he was handsome, and quite frankly one of your best friends, he was nothing more than that, because that would end one way and one way only. Heartbreak.

Dean was the same, thinking of you as both his friend and his night-time companion for the hours he didn't want to be alone. When he was thinking more than he should, he would leave his motel room and walk the two steps to yours. When you were lonely, you'd send him a text, the buzzing more than enough to wake his jumpy figure from sleep. Or maybe, Dean's subconscious was able to tell when you needed or wanted him and would wake him just in time to hear your call.

There were times when Dean thought about you outside of the bedroom, outside of the darkened skies and the late hours of the night. Times when he thought of you as his best friend, and maybe one of his favourite people, but that's where it stopped. That is where he forced himself to stop. Dean was good at pushing things away, and you were just the same, and whilst it was a match made in hell, you wanted nothing more than for it to last as long as it could. Last, as it would, but never grow. Because that wasn't right, and that wasn't safe for either of you.

It was on one day's hunt, however, that things were mixing themselves up into something more than you wanted them to be. A margarita of danger, blood, and a whole lot of repressed ideas. 'I wanna know' by Big Jack Johnson might have been your first sign, or maybe it was just a fucking good song to dance to. Needless to say, that the hunt had been abandoned for a few moments of semi-drunken dance and banter that crossed a line drawn a little too long ago.

"You know, I think I could do this forever." Dean's voice is more upbeat than usual, and the slur in his words shows that he's on the verge of most-definitely-not-sober, despite it being one o'clock in the afternoon.

"And what exactly is this?" You're dancing with him, even though you shouldn't be. You know that much, but in your line of work, the danger is so common that sometimes it passes right on by without you even catching a glimpse. And then it gets you, right in the heart, a dagger through the back.

"Dancing," you swear the slurring of his words is stronger than two seconds ago. "With you." His hands on your hips distract him from the things that he's saying, and the liquid courage he's consumed far too much of runs through his veins more than the blood in his body. "You and me, we're made for each other."

"Are we now?" Your voice holds confidence though it's the opposite of how you feel, and your sobriety is catching up to you, strong and true. There's something that flashes across Dean's face, in his eyes a realization that his testing of the waters has gone too far. That maybe he needs some water himself, instead of the liquid truth he's been consuming for the past hour. He clears his throat, loud, his hands falling from your sides.

"We should get back on the case, Sammy's gotta be wondering what we've got." The case. It's always the case that gets him out, the words he says put back in his mouth as fast as he can shove them in. But you let him deflect it, because you're not ready to face it either, and when you slip up, you do the exact same thing. Dean doesn't chug down the rest of his beer like usual, because, in moments like these—moments where everything starts to bubble up—it's his cue to close the tab.

"Let's get outta here." He mumbles it to no one but knows you're following him out whether you heard him or not. Because that's how it is. You follow him, and he follows you, stuck to each other whether you like it or not.

The hunt goes well for the most part, vengeful spirit vanquished and your bodies not covered in as many bruises as usual, though there still are some. Most of the time they go unnoticed until a shirt is removed and the purple line along one's ribs can be seen, or if the wincing of a particular person becomes a regular occurrence. As much as Dean would like to pretend he doesn't care about these things, there's a slight chance that it affects him more than he knows.

"What happened here?" His fingers brush over the skin on your collarbone, tracing the bruise that he knows wasn't left by him thirty minutes ago.

"You want a list?" Your eyes sit closed as you lay so close to him, his arm over your shoulder and keeping you just near enough to feel the breaths that he takes in each passing moment. He chuckles and you feel that too, but it doesn't last long before he's serious again, ruining the no-strings part of your agreement.

"Yeah, I get that, but this one-" Dean runs his finger over the bruise again, most likely trying to gauge your reaction. You give him nothing. "This one looks like it hurts."

You don't open your eyes. You know if you do, you'll be stuck, heart pulling you to him, and mind pulling you back. "What are you gonna do? Kiss it better?"

"You want me to?" His question comes so deep, voice testing the limits again. You ignore it, you have to.

"I doubt it'll work."

"No harm in trying, am I right?" And just like that, you're back in the safe zone, Dean's flirty tone bringing the depth of the conversation back to what it should always be. Nothing important, nothing meaningful, because the way he kisses you shouldn't mean anything. It's not allowed to mean anything.

But he kisses you, and he kisses the bruise, and you go back to it, ignoring what might be right in front of you. Dean tries. He tries so hard not to touch the bruise again after that, because friends care about bruises, friends care like he wants to, but friends don't see each other naked. So, when he's here with you, with a motel bed and your skin on his, he's not your friend. He can't be. Because friends don't see each other naked, and if he's your friend in bed, then what you have is something more.

The bruise is never brought up again and when more appear after every hunt, on both you and Dean, it's only discussed outside of the bedroom. It has to be. But of course, it's hard to avoid such things when every day comes with a new scar, inside and out.

As of right now, Dean sits on a dirty motel bathroom sink, icepack to his eye and you standing between his legs, holding a wet cloth to his lip. It's silent, the first aid kit the only witness to the scene. Sam's gone god knows where to find another one of his kale salads, and the lack of conversation in the motel room is deadly. There's a hiss from Dean's lips as you dab an antiseptic wipe over the cut just above his cheekbone, and a mumbled apology from you right afterward. And then Dean does it. He dares to reach out, hands landing on your waist to pull you just that bit closer, and it takes everything you have to ignore it. The icepack he's been holding is long forgotten, dropped to his side and his hands are cold where they touch you. His fingers are damp from the pack's condensation and it's so tempting to just give in—but you don't.

When you reach up to wipe away the excess blood on his cheek, the white flannel in your hand going red, he catches your hand in his own. "God dammit," It comes as a grunt, like usual when Dean talks, "This shouldn't be working for me, should it?" He says it like this exact situation hasn't happened a hundred times before, as if he really believes that this shouldn't work for him when you both know that it does.

You ignore him, pulling the flannel back into your grasp as you wipe the blood from his cheek. His hand, the one still on your waist is the one you feel the most. His fingers dig into your skin, not hard, but the grip is firm enough for you to notice, and his other hand now holds an antiseptic wipe of his own. He brushes it against your face so gently that you'd not feel it, if not for the sting it causes in the cut on your forehead. And just like that things are getting a little too personal, a little too caring for what the both of you agreed. Yet, you don't stop it.

You're too close to be friends, but still, you're practically leaning into the sink to get closer to him, chests almost touching when you do. It's just so dangerous, because if there's one thing you shouldn't be doing it's this. But it's so much worse when he doesn't kiss you because when he opens his mouth to talk instead, it makes it almost impossible to hide the fact that this isn't just a bit of fun.

"You okay?" He's put the antiseptic wipe down, hand coming to rest on the side of your neck, thumb brushing over the bottom of your ear. The grip he has on your waist with his other hand loosens, though he doesn't let go, and it's all so different from what you've done before. You nod because it's all you can think of to do and Dean continues, despite the risks. "Cause' you took a serious fall back there, one that looked like it could've done some damage if you didn't land right." His hand moves upward fingers splayed out on the back of your head under your hair. And God, it kills him when you wince at the touch. "You didn't land right, did you?"

That's when you move back, that's when you storm from the bathroom, slamming the door behind you to give you a few seconds more to escape him—to escape what you're feeling. By the time you get outside the motel room, the cold air on your flushed skin, Dean is behind you, hand on your arm.

"Okay, what was that about?" He sounds genuinely confused and when you turn to look at him, gaze falling to his hand on your arm for no more than a spilt second, his brows are furrowed.

"You know what that was about." You don't sugar-coat it, you can't, but Dean is saved by the bell it seems, Sam appearing out of thin air with two plastic bags full of what's most likely your dinner.

"What's going on?" Sam now holds the frown; Dean's having disappeared and he's looking at you as though you're a bomb about to go off. You don't though, tearing your arm from Dean's grasp and heading back inside without a word.

Sam doesn't say anything to you about it, though you know as soon as you go back to your room Sam will make Dean spill his guts. What Dean will tell him though, remains to be seen, because while the brothers are close, there are some things Dean can't admit. Like the fact that maybe his brother was right, that what he had with you was so close to going up in flames, and that maybe he was letting it burn.

You didn't call Dean that night, and he didn't knock on your door either. If he did you don't know if you would have let him in any way, but you can't entirely sleep without him there. Dean's awake and staring at the ceiling, though he pretends he's not when Sam shifts, sitting up on his own bed across the room. Dean keeps one eye open in the darkness, and when he catches Sam looking down at the screen of his phone, something in Dean clicks. He hears the motel room door creak open, falling shut moments later, and Dean sits up.

Sam is gone, and Dean waits five minutes, listening intently for any indicators as to where Sam could have gone. But when no car starts outside, and no headlights shine through the motel window, Dean makes his move. What his little brother could be doing behind his back at three in the morning is beyond him, but when he opens the door, he sees it loud and clear. The lights in your motel room are on, curtains only half drawn, and when Dean peeks through the gap between them he understands it all. It's a picture out of Dean's worst nightmares he thinks, a scandalous scene. His brother, standing in your hotel room with you right in front of him. Sam's looking down at you, and you up at him, and his lips move fast as he talks words Dean can't hear, but all Dean can focus on is the way his brother's hands are tangled in your hair, lifting your head to look at him. Dean doesn't stay to see more, he just scoffs to himself and heads back to his room, downing the half bottle of beer left on the table as soon as he does so.

He thought about getting in his car and driving away to blow off some steam, but that's not what friends do. Friends don't get jealous when their companion is with some other guy. And Dean is your friend. He's something else too, something that helps relieve your stress in the middle of the night, but other than that, he's nothing to you. And he should have no reason to be angry. Unless of course there is something more to do with what he feels, though that goes against the agreement—the promise.

Sam comes back to the room an hour later and Dean pretends to be asleep again, though he holds a sense of pride over the fact that maybe you do like Dean better than his brother because you never sent Dean back to his room after time with you. Not once. Yet, here Sam was, back so soon.

The next day Dean keeps this in mind to stop himself from smacking his brother upside the head. He watches you with hawks’ eyes, scanning your every movement in relation to Sam. How close you stand to him, how many words you exchange, and he thinks you don't notice, but you do.

You bring it up whilst investigating an apparently haunted old farm that same afternoon, Sam talking to the owner whilst you and Dean take a look around. It's bad timing but his glances had been bothering you all day, and what better time to make trouble than whilst in the middle of a case? That way you can deflect onto it, if need be, and avoid the conversation at hand.

"What's going on with you?" You don't look at him as you ask, pretending to be interested in the tractor that sits in the middle of the barn where you stand.

Dean grunts, his signature sound. "You have a fun night last night?"

"What?" A frown consumes your features though Dean can't see it with your back to him, and a thousand thoughts race around your mind trying to put together what he could be talking about. You don't need to think about it for too long before Dean provides the answer.

"You and Sam. Did you get it on pretty good?"

It hits you then what he's thinking and when you look at him, he's avoiding your gaze just as much as you were his a few seconds ago. It's a shock to your system to think he could be this affected over something that never even happened, the concept once again crossing so many lines.

"If by 'getting it on' you're referring to Sam making sure I didn't have a fucking brain bleed last night, then yes, we got it on real good." the sarcasm comes through thick, and you would feel bad about it if you weren't desperately trying to avoid what the conversation could lead to. Dean's facial expression shifts as if he's going backwards through the five stages of grief before he locks eyes with you, making everything that much worse.

"What'd you mean?"

"You said it yourself, I didn't land right when I fell the other day, and my head didn't feel too good last night, so I called Sam over to take a look. To make sure I wasn't gonna die in my sleep." You shrug just to add to the casualness of it all, "Considering I'm alive right now, I think he did a pretty good job."

Dean's mouth sits in an 'oh' shape as he stares back at you, before shaking himself out of it. "So, you didn't screw Sam last night?" He knows the answer now but is still so beyond confused by the logic of it all that he asks anyway.

"No, Dean, I didn't screw your fucking brother."

There's a silence held up by the attitude in your words, before Dean breaks it, still staring at you with one eyebrow raised as he tries to piece everything together. "Why didn't you call me?" he's frowning now, and you pretend not to notice his hurt. "I offered to help you with that, why didn't you call me?"

That makes you laugh, and you move around the barn, doing what you're actually there for whilst you talk. You've still got a job to do after all. "You didn't offer to help, you just looked at me with those stupid eyes while rattling off a bunch of caring bullshit."

"Bullshit?" The single word sounds more agitated than it should "I would've fucking offered, but you ran away. You God damn ran from me!" The case is entirely forgotten to him as he follows you around the barn, not willing to drop the conversation.

"Can we stop acting like this is about my concussion?" the speed at which you turn, and the volume at which your voice comes is startling.

Dean has his chance then to say it, to fuck up whatever it is you have in one way or another, but he doesn't. He doesn't ask what you mean by that, he doesn't admit to any part of what's happening or how he's feeling.

"Forget it, let's just go find Sammy." And with that he's walking out of the barn, leaving you behind him.

"Are you being serious right now?" You shout, waiting for him to turn back around, though he doesn't. He doesn't stop moving, and he doesn't respond, as if he's blocking you out on purpose. He walks away, and for the first time, you don't follow.

You meet Dean and Sam back at the car, conducting an investigation of your own whilst they were off together. You didn't do that much searching more than clearing your head, though seeing Dean when you got back to the Impala fogged your mind right up again.

The way his eyes rake over you once you appear makes it that much worse. He's cursing himself for it really, though as a Winchester it's not unexpected for him to put his emotions in a bottle and cork them up.

The drive back to the motel is silent, even though it shouldn't be. You should all be discussing the case, what you found, and what you think it is that is messing around at the farm. But both you and Dean are in bad moods and Sam, well he doesn't want to get in the middle, though unbeknownst to him he already is.

When you get back to the hotel you go your separate ways, Dean and Sam to one room and you to the other, where you let out your frustrations separately. It's a slow process and by the time Dean knocks on your door, it's dark out.

"Do you and Sam know what it is yet?" Your arm is firm on the doorframe, making a point that you don't want to let Dean in just yet. He frowns as if expecting anything other than what you've said.

"Huh?"

"On the case, Dean. Did you guys come up with anything 'cause I'm stumped". You're acting as though everything that happened today never did, and whilst that keeps everything clean and tidy, it drives Dean mad.

"That's not what I'm here for." He nods toward your arm on the door, glancing to the room behind it. "Can I come in?" He got some nerve to ask, and you think about saying no, but when it comes to Dean, there's always been a part of you that can't.

You move to the side, opening the door wider for him to step into the room before you close it behind him. It's risky, and you stand there for more than a few minutes, you with your back to the door and Dean facing you, the devil in his eyes.

"We shouldn't." You mutter finally, the first words in the room. Dean nods in agreement, though his eyes say something entirely different.

"I should just go." He clears his throat with the words, walking toward the door and you. He should go, you both know it, yet he doesn't. The second he gets close enough you're pouncing on each other as if the warnings spoken before were mere jokes meant to be laughed at, and it takes about one-hundred-too-long kisses for you to pull back and push him away.

"We need to stop." your words come breathless, and they sound useless when paired with your current position on Dean's lap. Dean frowns hands pausing their venture around your body like they've done so many times before.

"We do?"

"We do." You parrot his words as you move off of him, making your place halfway across the room so you can't just jump right back into his arms the second he gives you a more than innocent look. You're serious now, but it's hard to say what you need to when it means putting everything else at risk.

"I can't keep doing this Dean, it's not good for me and it's not good for you."

Dean raises a brow, lips upturning in a hopeful smile. "It feels pretty damn good to me." He knows where you're going with this but he's trying to ignore it. He doesn't want to lose you, not yet.

"Dean," Your voice cracks with his name, arms folding over your chest as if to protect yourself. Dean hates that even more than the look on your face. The look that says, 'I don't want you; I don't need you.'

"You realize we can't stop this when we're together, right?" He hates to put the idea out there, but it's true. As long as you're near each other, whatever ever it is that you're trying to end right now, won't stop.

"I know." Your words are quiet, but the way you look at him—as if this is a goodbye—is what cements the idea.

"So," Dean stands, nodding his head. "You want to end this, end us." He waves between your bodies before his hand comes up to cover his mouth. He's trying to hide the fact that this is a big deal for him, but he's not sure it's working.

"I mean, come on Dean. What even are we?" Your brows are knitted together, and your eyes might possibly be glassy, though Dean can't be sure. He can't look at you long enough to confirm it.

"I don't know." He mutters, the words barely audible as he leans against the small table in the room. "I don't know."

This wasn't how Dean wanted it to go. He'd wanted to be in this room with you, everything that happened before pushed away as he kissed you until you forgot. Until you forgot about all the wrong he's done, all the things he's said, and all the ways he's just not good enough.

"Okay, then." You clear your throat and Dean knows what comes next. He can't let it happen, not right now. He's needs a few more minutes, a few more hours with you.

"I'd rather not know what we are than lose you entirely." It's his offer to you, his plea for you to stay, but he knows he can't make you, that decision is yours alone.

"I can't stay if I don't know what I'm staying for." You take a step forward, something Dean wasn't expecting, and you keep moving until you're close enough to touch. "I can't keep doing this if I don't know what you want."

"I'd like you to stay." His voice is rough, and it sounds genuine, but as he watches you, watches your expression change, he knows it's not enough.

"You'd like me to stay?" Your voice cracks with the words, and you take a step back, separating yourself from him just enough. "You'd like me to stay, but you don't want me to." You laugh with the last words, a smile of disbelief on your lips and it's jarring, watching you act like that. Your laugh, paired with the tears he can see now, are such a contrast to each other that it almost kills him.

"Oh, come on baby, you know that's not what I meant." Dean moves forward and you stumble further away as though he disgusts you.

"Don't you dare call me that. Don't you dare call me 'baby' right now. It's shit like that that got us into this mess. The way you act as though we're something more than we are, the way you keep tricking me into coming back to you." You're practically hissing at him, walking backward toward the door, and Dean doesn't know what to say to stop you.

"I want you to stay, okay? I want you to stay." He's shouting as if that will make you slow down—as if that will stop your hands from reaching for the doorknob and leaving him here. And you do stop, but you match his energy tenfold, screaming back as if you'd been waiting for this moment far longer than you'd even been doing this.

"Why? Why do you want me to stay? So, we can jump into bed when you're sad? Because if that's all there is here, I just can't wait for you." You take a deep breath, waiting for him to fire back, but Dean is stunned into silence.

"If that's all we have, I can't stay." You're whispering now, as if you know there is no use in shouting. That the effort it would take to do so would be wasted on a man that can't allow himself to feel for more than a second.

And then you leave, and Dean knows he should follow, that he should fight for you if he really wants this. But he doesn't walk out the door. He stands there and waits for you to come back, but he knows you won't. Enough people have left him behind for him to know that they never do. And he's walked out on enough people to know that you never will.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

SUPERNATURAL TAGLIST: empty :(

DEAN WINCHESTER TAGLIST: empty :(

[i-read-and-write-barely]

Pies

Imagine somehow you offended Dean, so to pay up you make him some pies.

This is fairly short and sweet.

Day 10. Pies.

With a careful sigh you coax another pie out of the oven, wiping the sweat from your brow. Smiling contently to yourself you set the final and fifth pie down on the counter to rest.

You don't quite know why you decided five pies was a good number to make up for what you've done. But it seemed fitting, and since Dean typically is happy with just one pie, five should make him the happiest man alive.

Taking off the apron you relax, sinking your back into the cold embrace of the chair. You hear a car door sound outside, signaling Dean has now returned. Counting the seconds on your hand five.. four.. three.. two... and one. The door opens to a slightly less pissed off Dean than what left a few hours ago.

"Hey Dean-o, I made some apologies for you.." Signaling with your hand you direct him to the pies. Immediately you can see his face light up.

"Oh hell yeah! You should piss me off more frequently if this is the apology I get!" He quickly starts engorging himself on the pies.

"Dean... those noises are borderline pornographic." Sighing you lean back in the chair. "But, if this it what it takes for you to forgive me, then I'll do it thousand times over. Even if the noises are-" You shudder slightly, mostly for comedic effect. "-oh so awful."

"Eh, it's alright. You're forgiven. Now have you tried one of these? They're delicious! I'm in pie heaven!" Dean hands you a slice of pie. And together you both enjoy the hard work you labored over. Now wether you're referring to the pies or mending the relationship... I'll leave that up to debate.

Taglist: @phoenixwithcatears

[goofygooberdays]

Dean Winchester: Supernatural

“I would be a morning person if morning happened at 1pm.”

I found all these pictures on Pinterest.

[ghostwoe]

legacy to leave

dean winchester.

notes — don’t read if you don’t wanna cry over his (pathetic) death & yes i thought of maroon because i’m only of the biggest swifties <3

masterlist

THE MOMENT — that the world froze as y/n looked upon their beloved hunter against that wooden pole and noticed he was catching his breath. his green irises flickered towards them as he called for both sam and y/n to hold on a moment.

y/n knew in that moment what was going on. they had seen it too many times in their lifetime, even outside of the winchester brothers, to know. poor sam was just barely catching on before dean placed a loving hand upon his younger brother’s own shoulder as y/n stepped closer.

“seems like i’ll never be getting those twenty bucks you owe me, huh?” y/n joked as they tried to keep their eyes from welling up with tears as they watched both men start to cry at the moment while dean tried to keep himself upright, balancing himself off of sam. “really sorry about that sweetheart,” dean’s breath caught for a moment as he grinned as big as he could manage, “maybe sammy will give you them.”

“i can’t do this without you.” sam spoke as the tears streamed down his cheeks and he gasped for breath, causing dean to smile and reassure him. “you can.” that caused y/n to sniffle and sigh as the tears finally broke free and slid down their own cheeks. “yeah well… i don’t want to.” sam replied and y/n found their own self grabbing both of their boys hands to try to comfort the pair.

“baby. . .” the eldest winchester had begun as he glanced over at his beloved. “i know this is a lot to put on you but promise me besides yourself that you’ll take care of sammy and baby? as the three of you are my legacy.” y/n let a sadden grin crawling upon their face as they leaned close to press a gentle kiss upon his lips for the final time. they leaned after dean and laid gently across him as he fell forward to hug his brother one last time. sam was quick to wrap his arms around the couple for once last joint group hug.

what a real fucking legacy, to leave, dean.

[spn-imagines-nation]

Gifs made by @castielss

[dingo-ate-my-hot-lettuce-crazy]

dean x reader season 1 headcanons

these are just some ideas for yall....just throwing these out there and makin a series outta this bc i need inspo to shift, so please enjoy and drink some tea and read <3

ideal time frame is oct 2005 - may 2006 or Season 1 of Supernatural

-picking up sam together at Stanford. maybe he called you and asked for some help persuading same, or maybe he just shows up unannounced on your door, pleading for you to help him find his dad. fresh from a hunt in New Orleans, he’s comes to the one of the few people he trusts. maybe he came to you because he knows you’re opinion means something to sam, or maybe because he can’t be alone if sam refuses, or just in general. dean could be tired of working without his dad, no backup, and he looks to you. someone who’s strong, and admirable, and overall desirable. think of the jam sessions on the way, diner stops and late night talks, and especially midnight driving (with his hand touching you somehow, either on your thigh, or maybe he’s just holding your hand. better yet, you could fall asleep on him, and he starts to play with your hair). 

-being there for him all the times he gets hurt on a hunt. you know how self-sacrificial he is, how he throws himself into danger’s arms with no second thought. he wants to protect you and sam, he feels its his purpose. so who’s better to be there for him when he’s down for the count. maybe after the wendigo accident, you help him get his strength back. being there for him on the plane ride with the demon, soothing him. when something is in their old house. maybe you find him leaving his dad a voice mail, and you grab him and let him know things will be okay. maybe you take a second to help him remember why you’re there for him. maybe when he’s landed himself in the hospital after the shock. assuring him that they will save him, and after the fact that he didn’t kill the other 27 year old victim who died in his place. maybe after the benders tie him up, you’re there to help with the pain or his wounds. maybe when they find dad, and you have to be there for him once they have to part ways again. and maybe youll be there for him, after yellow-eyes has escaped john, on the way to the hospital. youll be there for him.

-researching or joining in on hunts. if he lets you, of course. he wants you to research with him, and be in their presence, but the moment you suggested that you’re tagging alone this time uneased him. as a strong-willed individual, you dont give him a choice, but that doesnt make him feel much better. the research he can handle- you sitting with a cup of coffee/tea/oj (whatever your poison), book in hand, hair falling in your face, maybe even drifting off in thought, or hell- maybe to sleep. he watches you out of the corner of his eye, grinning, and somethings laughing to himself while he watches you study up on monsters. he thinks its the coolest. he adores it. its just when you join in, thats when he gets nervous. he hardly leaves your side, and if he does, whenever he meets back up its always with the “You okay?”

and small things to keep you interested in the season 1 era

-dean’s fashion

-dean’s youngin voice <3

-run of the mill, easy cases

-early banter between sam and dean, harmless banter

-flirty dean, young and wild in his mid 20′s

-overall mid 2000s aesthetic

-young romance, blossoming between the two of you

NOW GO SHIFT

[supernaturalfreewill]

"Come on, Sam," you laughed, wrapping an arm around his back and did your best to steady his towering frame.

"Where we going?" he asked, his words slurring together a little comically.

"You're going to bed. Come on," you said. "You had too much to drink at the bar." At that moment, you paused and thought about how unusual that was, for Sam to drink enough that he was thoroughly drunk. "Why did you drink so much tonight, anyway?" you asked, grabbing the room key out of his jacket pocket and quickly unlocking the door.

He stood still, his shoulders more slumped than usual, and gave you a long look as you held the door open for him. "Sam?" Your eyebrow quirked up in a question.

He smiled at you, a dopey drunk, sleepy smile. You grinned back. "You're beautiful," he said all of a sudden, wavering a little where he stood.

You blushed furiously and laughed it off, rushing over to steady him again and usher him inside. "You're drunk," you asserted. "Come on. Let's get you inside." He obeyed your shepherding and flopped down onto the bed on his back, his eyes closed and his legs sticking out over the side of the bed, boots still on,

"I am drunk," he mused. His eyes opened and he looked down at you as you tugged his shoes off. "And in the morning when I'm sober—" he sighed and watched you straighten up, looking down at him now with a curious expression. "—when I'm sober you'll still be beautiful. I jus' won't be brave enough to tell you..." His words were slurred and sleepy, and by the end his eyes had closed again and he shifted a little to make himself more comfortable on the mattress.

You were left staring at him, your heart fit to burst as it raced in your chest, wondering if it was possible you'd heard him right at all.

[stargazedwinchester]

Womanhood | Dean

Summary: Dean helps to comfort you during your time of the month, without much experience about periods, he tries his best.

This is a little different to the actual request, I hope that’s okay! I’ve tried my best to replicate it though :) Let me know if you want Sam’s/Cas’s version too!

Based off of this request here, thanks!!

Word count: 1,134

Warnings: some swearing, not loads!

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

This morning, you woke up with the most unbearable pain, cramps that felt like your appendix had ruptured. You groan in pain, hoping it would subside soon. You clutch your belly and slowly get out of bed. Your alarm clock flashes 7:39am, and you let your head fall. “I love when I have no sleep,” you mumble to yourself, letting out a huff. Looking behind you, Dean isn’t passed out, snoring so loud it would’ve probably woke you up anyway. You hold your belly and walk out toward the kitchen.

“Morning,” you grumble, and Dean turns around from the stove. His face lit up seeing you at the doorframe, your hair a mess and in one of his spare Star Wars t-shirts and your own pyjama shorts. “Someone’s looking rough.” He jokes, noticing you’re not smiling back. “Aw honey, what’s wrong?” He asks, his smile quickly fading. The smell of breakfast hovers over you, like it’s mocking your morning sickness. “I think I’m coming on my period today…” you say, and Dean turns round to face you, letting the eggs and bacon sizzle quietly on the stove. Toast pings out of the toaster at the same time. “Are you sure you’ll be okay for today’s hunt? If you’re in pain, I’m sure Sammy and I will handle it fine.” He genuinely looks concerned, as if you haven’t had plenty of periods before. It hurt like hell, sure, but you could manage just fine. Along with the fact that periods can make you super emotional and/or angry, you were certain it could come in handy when killing a couple of monsters.

“I’ll be fine Dean, honestly. I want to come with you both.” You smile, leaning over the counter top. Dean nods in agreement. “It’s always fun having you around. If you change your mind just let us know, okay?” He shoots you a quick grin before turning back to the stove, plating up your breakfast. “Where’s Sam?” You question, usually he’s already by the table reading his favourite book or getting ready to go out for his morning jog. “I think he went for a shower, I’m not sure.” Dean spins round and passes you a plate with 2 slices of toast, egg, bacon and hash browns. “Wow, this looks really good, Dean. Thank you.” You smile warmly at him, and he returns the gesture.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

Your rapid breathing causes you to hunch over and rest your hands on your thighs, you take a deep breath. “God damn…” you say, looking up at Sam, who’s right in front of you. “What a kill!” You chuckle to yourself, wiping your hair out of your face. You stand up, giving Sam a high-five. “Good job, Y/N. It’s like you don’t need our help.”

“I know, right? I’m just that go-“ “Y/N! Watch out!” Sam cocks his gun and tries to shove you out of the way, a sudden loud bang shocks you as you feel something sharp pierce your skin abruptly. You fall over, Dean rushing to your side. “I’ll cover you, Dean, make sure she’s okay!” Sam quickly checks back at you, noticing blood is pouring out of our calf.

“Fuck. Y/N, are you okay? Does it hurt?” He panics, shuffling over to apply pressure on your leg. He rummages in his pocket for a handkerchief and immediately applies it to your wound, he rushes to whip his belt off and tie it tight enough around your leg to hopefully stop the bleeding. You can practically see the fear in his eyes, and you laugh quietly.

“What’s so funny, huh? Almost dying?” His hands shake, trying to keep the pressure on your leg at all times.

“I’m not gonna die, Dean. It’s just a gunshot. Stop worrying,”

You place your hand on his, and he gazes at you with so much worry. His gorgeous hunter green eyes comfort you, even though he’s feeling the complete opposite. You pull your hand up to his face and caress his cheek, he finally shows some sign of calming down. It’s like his whole body relaxes by just your touch. “I’ve honestly felt worse.” You joke, slowly moving your body to sit up. You wince, feeling cramp in both of your abdomen and your leg. “Help me get up,” you say, and Dean pulls you up, anchoring you from underneath, your arm draped behind his back. “Let’s get you home.” He says, catching his eye on Sam, making his way back inside.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

It had been a few hours since you arrived back at the bunker, you lay across the sofa, clasping your belly as the cramps still hadn't subsided. Your leg, however, had been patched up neatly by Sam, and were given some painkillers for it. It didn't seem to work that well.

"How're you feeling?" Dean pats your foot, walking past the sofa to perch himself on the very little space left on the armrest. "I feel like I've been shot in two different areas," You try to joke, but it only makes Dean glare at you, waiting for a real answer.

"Could you get me some period pads, or tampons, please? Either work," You state, trying to sit up. "Uh, yeah, I can do that. What... size?" Dean looks puzzled, which only makes you smile. "Regular, Dean. Get the ones with wings."

Dean stands up and gathers his thoughts. "Pads with wings. Tampons with wings. Got it. I think." He places his hands on his hips and looks to the ground, then to you. He smiles lovingly. "I'll be right back." He says, before grabbing his flannel and exiting the door.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

An hour or so had gone by, and you hadn't moved from the sofa. your cramps have worsened to the point of also giving you a headache. You hear the door open, then close. Dean's back from the store, and he's got a white carrier bag full of items. "I'm back," He chuckles, "Got you a few things." He walks up to the sofa, laying the bag on the coffee table next to you. "Oh, Dean, you didn't have to..." You trail, as he takes out chocolate, a small teddy bear with a t-shirt that reads 'Get Well Soon' with a small red heart underneath it. He had also bought you the pads that you had asked for, aspirin, fresh bandages for your leg and a small bunch of red roses.

Your smile gleamed as your eyes met his. "You really didn't have to." Your voice almost a whisper, and he moves closer to you. "I know, but I wanted to." He smiles, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

"Thank you." You say, reaching your hand up to the nape of his neck, pulling him in for one more.

[dwonfilm]

“Come hell or high water.” | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Mentions: Sam Winchester, Castiel, Micheal and Lucifer, Bobby Singer

Warnings: none, will provide for each chapter as they’re written.

Part I:

Michael and Lucifer had both been impatient, each showing up at various times and places—both wanting the same thing; more or less. Each wanted their designated Winchester brother to simply say yes.

Three days earlier.

Sam, Dean and [Y/N] were sat in their shared motel room in New Orleans, Louisiana. Sam was on his laptop, browsing for cases on different news websites. [Y/N] was flipping through the local newspaper to see if anything stuck out in the reports there, but she wasn’t having much luck. Dean was.. well, in true Dean fashion he was chowing down on a burger that he’d brought back from the local diner. “Your food is gonna get cold, or I’m gonna eat it, the entire world isn’t gonna fall apart if you two take a damn break.” Dean spoke, mouth half full of chewed food. Sam sighed and looked over to [Y/N] who finally closed the newspaper. “Fine, you’re right.” He spoke up, closing the laptop that had been in front of him for at least two hours. Turning his attention towards [Y/N] Dean would clear his throat (after having swallowed the mouthful of food) and gently squeezed her shoulder. “C’mon sweetheart you haven’t eaten today.” She’d sigh knowing her boyfriend was right, placing her hand on top of Dean’s and giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Alright, alright. This goddamn newsprint is giving me a headache anyway.” [Y/N] folded the newspaper back up and tossed it onto the table. Grabbing the brown paper bag, she pulled out what would be Sam’s usual and handed it over to the younger brother. She pulled out her own food and carefully unwrapped the burger, quickly picking it up and taking a big bite. Now that everyone was a little more focused on the food, Dean would continue to eat himself.

“I dunno man, everything I’ve seen has been completely normal. It’s like all the evil in the world has gone radio silent.” Taking a bite of his burger, the younger of the Winchester brother was clearly frustrated. “That’s what scares me, when things tend to be normal on the crime side.. it’s never a good sign.” [Y/N] replied, tucking a loose strand of [Y/H/C] hair behind her right ear. “There’s gotta be something, I’m sure we’ll find it but there’s no use finding anything if we aren’t fit to do the job.” Dean spoke up again, verbally nudging the two most important people in his life to continue eating. “All the sons of bitches can’t have just ran into hiding.“ He’d conclude, grabbing the bottle of beer he’d set aside and taking a swig. “It’s just weird, Dean. Normally it doesn’t take us so long to find something to at least check out. There’s nothing online at all that’s raising even a little suspicion.” Sam answered, looking extremely concerned when he locked eyes with his brother. Dean’s eyes were sympathetic and truthfully—he was worried too. Everything both Sam and [Y/N] were saying was true but he also couldn’t afford to let them see any hint of the fear his heart carried. Not only because it made things more real but he was too busy anchoring them, keeping them from spiralling because then they’d be no good to anyone once evil rears its ugly head. [Y/N] finished chewing another bite of food before adding another thought. “I haven’t seen anything local either I mean, that was the third paper I’ve scoured from front to back and everything just seems.. normal. It’s weird.” It took the chiming in of the eldest Winchester to calm the noise of the impending chaos again. “Hey, look, we’ll just take a break and see if anything comes down the pipeline. Right now I need you two to eat before I start force feeding you.” Sam and [Y/N] both looked at each other before chuckling softly and for the first time in the last couple of hours, the stress of it all faded away. Dean was the first to finish his food (no surprise there) and so he silently asked to use Sam’s laptop, the younger brother nodding as he continued to eat. [Y/N] had finished her food, not realizing how hungry she’d actually been. Of course Dean knew because he knew her like the back of his hand, which was why he’d been pushing her especially to eat since he brought it back to the room. She smiled to herself for a moment as her gaze moved to where Dean sat, scrolling on the computer. Those strikingly beautiful green eyes scanning the screen to see if he could find anything to ease the worries of the trio. Sam was of course the final person to finish his food and when he had, [Y/N] began to grab the garbage that had become scattered across the small table in their room. She stuffed everything back into the brown paper bag it came in before throwing it into the trash can. Rubbing at his temples, Sam slowly pushed himself up from his seat. “I’m gonna shower. Let me know if you guys find anything yeah?” He spoke, walking over to his bed and grabbing the go bag with his clothes in it. He saunters towards the bathroom and closes the door, both [Y/N] and Dean heard the door lock. Dean’s eyes moved to look up at his girlfriend with an expression that seemed exhausted. Noticing this, [Y/N] approached the table again, this time taking the chair closest to her green eyed baby. Leaning her head onto his shoulder, he managed a half smile with his gaze moving from the laptop screen to his beautiful lady. Her [Y/H/C] locks framing her face perfectly, not to mention her [Y/E/C] eyes that always brought his soul some peace. Everything about their world was utter chaos with something even worse looming overhead, yet just by looking into her eyes he’d find a calm like he’d never known.

[Y/N] had met the Winchesters as a child, her father one of the many hunters that John had worked with in the hunt for the yellow eyed demon. Unfortunately her father met a cruel fate at the hands of a shifter and that left her alone in the world. Naturally, via the connection, Bobby Singer would end up taking [Y/N] into his home and that’s where she’d spend time with Sam and Dean. Years on end would see them meeting a handful of times and enjoying various activities and days with Bobby while John hunted. Of course when John and Bobby had their big blow up fight, [Y/N] went a while without hearing from the brothers. Dean had gotten in touch a couple years later and kept in touch through texts mostly, which was surprising but [Y/N] wasn’t complaining. Sam would email every once and awhile but it was very sporadic. Which [Y/N] learned years later was because Sam had left hunting and gone to Stanford—basically ignoring the hunting life and everything supernatural. It was actually during this time where Dean and [Y/N] would begin doing hunts together. Off and on of course, sometimes very rarely with John but usually just the two of them. Often times these cases required them to, as they called it, ‘bend the truth’. This involved posing as different forms of authority to gain access to information that they normally wouldn’t have. Many times, both Dean and [Y/N] had to pose as a young couple in love. Newlyweds or happily engaged—various forms of in love, gaining them favor amongst the community or with other authority figures. This went on for months, both seemingly having feelings show themselves but it went undiscussed. Dean wasn’t about flirting with women to get further on a case, which of course [Y/N] hated but she could never really say that. It caused a little tension at times until finally it came to a head on a hunt for witch.

“Dean, will you just stop and listen to me?!” [Y/N] yelled as she followed the man into their shared motel room. Dean remained silent, anger written across his features. [Y/N] huffed out a breath of frustration and ran her hand through her [Y/H/C] hair and looking toward the eldest Winchester boy. “Dean.” She tried speaking again, yet he still ignored her and aggressively unzipped his go bag. Sifting through its contents he was looking for something, growing more irritated when he couldn’t find it. “What are you looking for?” [Y/N] asked, there was more silence for a second before he finally spoke. “Credit card.” Straight to the point and with a tone that had [Y/N]’s eyes rolling. “You told me to put it in my bag because your wallet needed to get fixed.” She replied, dipping her hand into her bag she’d pull her wallet out and slipping the card into her hand. She’d slowly walk over to Dean and tossed the card onto the bed. This time it was his turn to sigh before turning towards [Y/N]. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I lost my temper, what you do is none of my business.” He said, which seemed genuine for the most part. “I just am lost, I don’t react like that when you flirt with a girl to get information or a bump in the line to meet with someone.” She spoke, though she mumbled under her breath. “Even though I want to..” Dean heard her and felt a sense of confusion wash over him. “Why would you.. [Y/N] why would you want to get mad over that?” Dean’s eyes had found themselves locked onto [Y/N]’s, waiting for her to answer. Throwing her hands up in frustration [Y/N] shouted. “For the exact same reason that you got mad today and punched the receptionist in the face, Dean! You and I obviously have feelings for one another but we don’t talk about them so we just circle the never ending drain of getting jealous and sad and mad in secret and letting it build up!” Immediately after the words had left her mouth she gasped and covered it with her hands. Dean was just as shocked as [Y/N] seemed to be, frozen just staring in her eyes. Moments later after pure silence, Dean turned around and drug his hand across his face. “Dean..” [Y/N] spoke, her tone much softer than it was moments ago. She took a step forward and slowly placed a hand on his shoulder, lightly gripping it. Dean turned with a quickness and crashed his lips against [Y/N]’s while his hand came up to cup her face. Naturally she was stunned, but began to kiss him back.

Ever since that day, due to some kind of truth hex, Dean and [Y/N] had been inseparable. It was the one good thing in Dean’s eyes that came from dealing with a witch. Moving his finger along the touchpad of the laptop, he’d close the website he was on and look up another. There had to be something somewhere.. there just had to be. “Should I get back on the papers?” [Y/N]’s voice broke the longstanding silence that had hovered over them. Dean pulled another half smile before turning and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “No sweetheart, it’s alright. I don’t think there’s anything in ‘em. You’d have found something by now if there was.” His gaze again fixated on the computer, scrolling through masses of crimes being reported. He was about to scroll again, but something caught his eye and he needed to reread the blurb. “Wait a minute..” he spoke in a soft tone, causing [Y/N] to sit up. “Did you find something?” She asked, looking at the screen now too. “Not sure, maybe.” He replied, clicking a link that brought up a fuller article. “Well I’ll be damned.. this one might be vamps. Animal attacks, puncture marks on the necks.. hell there’s nothing else remotely sticking out so I think it’s worth the drive.” Dean added, the lock on the bathroom door clicking open and soon enough the younger Winchester came back into the main room. Steam came flowing from the bathroom as Sam continued to dry his hair. “Hey Sammy, think we got something.” [Y/N] spoke with a soft tone and there was a look of relief on his face. “Wha.. where?” Sam asked, looking at his brother. “Tucson.” Dean answered, turning the laptop around so that his younger brother could look at the article himself. Now [Y/N] was the one pushing herself from her seat. “Hopefully you didn’t use all the shampoo and the hot water.” She joked, making her way to the bathroom in order to shower.

After everyone had showered and changed into their pyjamas, the trio had settled down for the evening. It didn’t take long for quiet snores to be heard from Sam’s bed, his back turned towards the couple who were sharing the other bed. “I’m glad we found a case, but I still don’t have a good feeling about this..” [Y/N] spoke, keeping her tone on the quieter side as to not wake up the younger Winchester. She was snuggled into Dean’s side with her arm draped across his lower abdomen and her head on his chest. Dean pressed a kiss to her temple before sighing in a low manner himself. “I don’t either, it’s bugging me but we can’t just ignore the situation on feelings.” He spoke, his own tone mirroring hers in keeping on that quieter side and both sighed. “It just feels like this case fell into our laps and it feels like it’s a trap, but I can’t pinpoint from who or why.” She aimlessly began drawing shapes on the end of Dean’s T-shirt and he could see that his off feeling wasn’t as strong as the one that [Y/N] was having—she only drew shapes in that manner to calm her mind down. “Hey [Y/N/N], something’s really bugging you about this.. what is it?” He asked, gently turning her chin upward so [Y/N] would meet his gaze. [Y/E/C] hues met the beautiful green eyes that Dean had, searching them for something. “I wish I knew. Dean, it just feels.. too easy. There was nothing for what? Two days? Now all of a sudden there’s one solitary case and we’re supposed to believe this isn’t a set up? It’s not making sense. I know we can’t just ignore a possible case, but it just feels like something is going on and nothing good.” [Y/N] sighed again, knowing that so many things were up in the air right now and so many things couldn’t be resolved in quick manner. “Maybe we’ll pray to Cas tomorrow, either before we leave or while we’re driving. See if he knows anything.” Dean offered, squeezing [Y/N] and bringing her closer to his body. “Yeah, okay. Sounds good.” She replied, snuggling into her boyfriend and slowly closing her eyes. Dean himself would adjust the covers and slowly close his eyes. “Goodnight, D.” [Y/N] whispered. “Goodnight, [Y/N/N].” He whispered back.

[floorbe]

Could you do headcanons for how Team Free Will (+ Jack if you write him) would be in a relationship? SFW or NSFW :)

hell yeah!!!

~

Dean Winchester

-You’re gonna need to be very patient in order to scratch past the flirty exterior

-Once you make it past that flirting wall, you’ll hit the defensive wall where he gets cold. Put him in his place. That second wall won’t last long, especially if you hunt with him and the team

-He cares about you, and he constantly is debating between seizing the moment and pushing you away because he knows he’ll die, and probably soon

-Once you’re finally comfortable in a relationship, he’s right back to suave mode. He loooves seeing you flustered

-Arm around the waist? Check. Arm around the back of your chair? Check. Winks when no one is looking? Check.

-Late night vulnerable talks are a common occurrence. Once Dean is comfortable with you, it takes less prying to get him to open up

-It’ll still take prying, don’t get me wrong, but it’ll get easier

-He’s showy as, well, a show. He prefers more intimate affections in private, but he’ll do it in public if he knows it’ll get a reaction he wants. He’ll always back down the tension with a smolder

-Long, tight, warm hugs whenever one of you is back from danger

-Kisses on the forehead when leaving for a hunt

-He’s so protective, it’s sweet. It makes you swoon when he glares at someone being rude or flirting with you, but you may need to pull him back and remind him you’re capable of handling yourself

Sam Winchester

-After all of his romances, it takes him a while to open up again romantically

-He’s aware of his feelings, but his fear will hold him back for a long while

-You’ll have to be patient. He cares about you so, so much, but he needs to realize it’s okay to cross that line again. It may need a serious sit down talk

-Once you’re in the relationship, he’s not too big on PDA, but he’s not against showing you small gestures

-He likes lowkey holding hands, kissing your forehead, a hand on the small of your back while you’re walking

-He thinks it’s adorable to see you flustered, but he won’t try to fluster you in public too often. Alone is a different story

-In private, he may not initiate too often, but you can tell just how much he cares by how long and encompassing his hugs are

-Long kisses in the night before you fall asleep

-He’s easier to get to open up than Dean for most topics, but some topics will take longer for him to talk about

-He knows you’re capable of yourself, but he can’t help how protective he gets sometimes. With his previous partners, can you blame him?

Castiel

-He understands romantic relationships on an objective level human-wise, until after he becomes human. Then he gets it

-He can definitely conclude that he has feelings for you. How to go about them? That’s a more difficult one

-He probably won’t tell you for a while just because he knows he lives far longer than you, and he has so many targets on his back (as if you don’t, as well? But he doesn’t want to add any)

-He may just come out and say it bluntly eventually, or it may come out in the heat of the moment after a fight when he realizes just how short life is.

-He’s definitely a bit awkward as he goes through figuring out how relationships work on a personal level. How much affection is too much? Do you like it when he holds you?

-Just talk to him. He’s very open to anything you have to say and isn’t that embarrassed by it at all. He gets a lot more communicative after that

-He finds that he likes hand holding. He’ll kiss your cheek often before hunts or when he leaves, and it comes so casual that you lean in before he even walks over

-His hugs are long and you can feel him melt into you and vice versa. He has no qualms with PDA, but he does know that more intimate acts are saved for private moments

-He’s one that’s easier to get to open up, and will likely open up without much prying at all unless it’s something he wants to keep private for now. He cares about you, he has worries about you, why would he keep them private?

Jack Kline

-Probably won’t exactly figure out what his feelings are too soon

-Someone else will probably point them out before he realizes, oh, maybe that is what this is?

-Once he figures out what he is feeling, he asks for advice on how to go forward. Should he be direct? Flirt? He doesn’t know. He reads, watches movies, asks Dean, and he still does not really know

-He probably tries a few flirting methods that fall flat. Dean will give him a thumbs up as if they worked and then cringe when he turns away

-In the end he’ll probably just sit down and have an honest heart to heart with you about how he feels. You two can navigate this together. You’ve been there for each other thus far, why wouldn’t you be for this, too?

-He opens up pretty easily to you even before you two are together. He trusts you heavily, and to start a relationship with you, that trust only doubles

-He tries the “yawn to arm over your shoulder” trick. You think it’s adorable. He thinks it worked

-He eventually settles on hand holding and finds out he really likes it when you kiss his cheek and vice versa

-He doesn’t have too much of an opinion on PDA, but if you’re against it he won’t initiate

-Long, sweet kisses during private moments after a hug

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Apocalypse

PART 1

Pairings: Winchester!Reader x Sam x Dean

Request: Could you do one about Winchester!reader getting sent to walking dead universe from supernatural universe during all the universe jumping drama and how that would go with Negan?

Warning: Some strong language.

A/N: I actually really enjoyed writing this. Hope you like it! :)

"What the hell do we do?!" You yelled, slowly backing away from the creature staggering towards you.

It looked like a zombie, but not the kind you were used to. You didn't even know where you were. It was like one minute you were in the bunker, and the next, you were here, in this foreign place.

"Just...go for the head!" You heard Dean call.

You pulled your gun on the creature, and sent a bullet straight into its forehead, causing blood and rotted flesh to splatter into the air. The creature then dropped to the ground like a rock in water.

"Jesus Christ." You breathed out, trying to catch your breath as you stared down at the creature on the floor. "What the hell is going on?"

You turned around to see how Sam and Dean were getting on but you ended up being knocked to the ground by another of the zombies.

"Son of a bitch." You groaned, pushing your hands against the loose flesh of its chest to keep it off you. The creature was wildly snapping its teeth at you, like it was desperate to get a bite. It was freakin' crazy. "Sam! Dean!"

Before either of them could get to you, something smacked the creature straight in the side of the head, sending it flying into the dirt beside you.

You scrambled away and when you looked up, there was a man in a leather jacket, seemingly enjoying himself as he smashed the creature's skull to pieces with a barbed wire bat.

Sam and Dean were standing across the clearing, watching as this random guy continued beating at the pulverised flesh on the floor. But when he turned around to face you all, your heart dropped.

"You one of Rick's merry men?" He snickered, pointing his bat in your direction.

It wasn't long before Sam and Dean had returned to your side. They were clearly seeing what you saw as they stood there, eyes wide.

When nobody answered him, he carried on, a little annoyed now. "Well? Ain't one of you gonna say somethin'? Or are you just gonna stand there like a bunch of pussies?"

"Dad?" You choked out, eliciting a mocking laugh from him.

"Dad?! Are you fuckin' serious? I ain't your dad sweetheart."

"Then who the hell are you?" Dean growled, stepping forward slightly.

The man smirked. "I'm Negan. And you better be real careful how you talk to me. Just ask Rick...he knows what happens when you disrespect me."

"Who the hell is Rick?" Sam asked him. You noticed his hands were shaking as he looked at the man who resembled your father.

"Shit, you don't know Rick?" He chuckled. "I'd have thought you were one of those pricks from Alexandria or somethin'."

"Alexandria?" You asked, confused. "Where even are we?"

"Jesus...have you all been hit on the fuckin' head or something?"

You all just stood there in silence whilst Negan watched you, confusion evident on his face.

"You really don't know where you are." He carried on, realisation finally beginning to hit him. "You gotta be shittin' me? Come on, this is bullshit. You gotta know where you are."

You shook your head at him, your heart pounding inside your chest.

"Well I'll be damned." He said. "You wanna know where you are?"

You all just stood there, waiting for him to continue.

He smirked. "You're in the middle of a damn apocalypse. And from the looks of it, you're screwed."

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

[canyouimaginethatstory]

Wrongfully Accused Part 15 (Lucifer X Reader)

PART 1: Here  PART 2: Here PART 3: Here PART 4: Here PART 5: Here PART 6: Here PART 7: Here PART 8: Here PART 9: Here PART 10: Here PART 11: Here  PART 12: Here   PART 13: Here  PART 14: Here

Later that day when you got home you did what you always did when you were upset or angry and needed to channel it. You got out one of your canvases and your best paints. You made yourself a drink and got comfy on the couch as you started to paint. A little while later your phone rang. It was Lucifer. "Hey," you answered. He could pick up on your mood just by your tone.

"That bad huh?" he asked.

"Yep, Sam handled it well but you know Dean," you said.

"how about I pick up dinner for us and we just spend the rest of the night inside," he suggested and you smiled.

"That sounds amazing," you said, "don't forget something sweet,".

"I'd never forget you beautiful," he replied and you couldn't fight the smile that appeared on your face. After you hung up and decided to put your painting away, for now, you went ahead and picked a movie and had two glasses and a bottle of fancy cider ready on the table when Lucifer arrived with Chinese takeout and a chocolate cheesecake.

"Oh nice choices," you said giving him a hello kiss.

"Just let me grab a quick shower and we'll eat beautifully," he said placing the food on the counter in the kitchen.

"Hm, feel like some company for the shower?" you asked with an innocent smile on your face.

"Lead the way gorgeous," he said as you took his hand and headed for the bathroom. After your much needed shower, you two got comfy on the couch and enjoyed dinner. You two were cuddled up watching the movie. "I think since you took a big step today that it's my turn to take one," Lucifer said. You shifted so you can look at him.

"What step are you thinking of taking?" you asked.

"Well you finally faced your brothers and told them about me," he said kissing the back of your hand softly, "so I think I need to finally face my past. I'm gonna go to the book event,". You sit up and took his hands in yours. "I'll be right there with you," you said before giving him a kiss on the cheek. A few days later Lucifer was at work. It had been a busy day. Cars seemed to show up one after another but he didn't mind. He could use the money. 

"Shurley!" Bobby called, "Come in my office for a moment!". Lucifer grabbed his grease rag to wipe his hands as he hurried into Bobby's office.

"Yeah Bobby?" he asked leaning against the door frame.

"Why don't go on home for the day?" Bobby suggested. Lucifer was a little confused.

"Why should I go home?" he asked.

"Your father is coming in with a car," he said, "I didn't think you'd want to be around him,".

"I can just hang out in the crew room until he leaves," Lucifer said as there was a knock on the door.

"Hey Bobby," Dean greeted before he spotted Lucifer. Lucifer just looked back.

"I'll go see about the last few cars Bobby," he said as he went to leave.

"Shurley wait," Dean ordered, "we need to talk,".

"We really don't Dean," he said.

"Yes we do," he said anger clear in his tone, "I want you to leave my little sister alone,".

"Nort gonna happen," Lucifer said standing his ground.

"You will leave my little sister alone!" he ordered getting in Lucifer's face, "she can do better than some ex-con loser like you!". Against every fiber of Lucifer's body telling him to fight back he just took a slow breath.

"You know what Bobby?" he said stepping back from Dean with a smile, "I think I will take the rest of the day off. My girlfriend hasn't been feeling well so I should be taking care of her," with that he headed out.

"You just wait you son of a bitch!" Dean said going after him but Bobby stopped him by pushing him back into the office.

"That's enough Dean!" Bobby said making him sit down.

"No Bobby I don't like this!" Dean said running his hand through his hair, "He is not right for her!" "Dean you don't even know them together so you can't really make that call," Bobby pointed out as he leaned against his desk.

"I don't need to know them together!" he said standing up, "I know him and he is not good enough for Y/N!" he stormed out as Bobby just shook his head. You were sound asleep on your couch when the sound of a slamming door woke you up. You looked around but didn't see anyone. You figured maybe it was from Lucifer's apartment so you got up and walked out into the hall. You knocked on the door.

"Babe?" you called, "are you home?" He opened the door and you could tell he was a little upset. "What's wrong?" you asked caressing his cheek.

"You're brother stopped by the shop today," he explained, "got in my face. I walked away so nothing happened,". You sighed.

"I'm sorry," you said, "he can be a jerk,".

"Y/N are you sure you want me to come between you and your family?" he asked. You took his hand and sit down on the couch with him.

"Lucifer, you are not coming between me and my family in any way. If my brother can't accept you that's his issue. I love you, and thats all that matters,". He pulled you into his lap and hugged you close as he kissed your cheek.

"I love you too," he said as he gently rubbed your stomach, "are you feeling any better?".

"Still a little bleh, but yeah a little bit,". He gently swept you up bridal style causing you to giggle a little as he carried you back to your apartment. After making sure you were comfortable on the sofa he headed into the kitchen to make you some soup as you watched TV. The next day when lunchtime rolled around you barged into Sam's office where you knew Dean would be.  "We need to talk," you said, "now,".

"Y/N don't start," he said rolling his eyes.

"Don't start!" you crossed your arms, "you started when you got up in Lucifer's face yesterday while he was at work!".

"Really Dean?" Sam shook his head.

"I can't help it!" he said, "Y/N he's bad news,".

"No Dean, you just like almost everyone else in this town are too busy kissing his dad's ass to see beyond what his dad has made him out to be. I'm telling you this one more time. Back off or we will no longer be talking," and with that you stormed out.

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