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zepskies · 11 months

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Smoke Eater - Part 10

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

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

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

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,300 Tags/Warnings: **Sexual harassment, angst, perilous situations, hurt/comfort

Part 10: “Toil and Trouble”

After visiting his father, Dean spent the rest of his day unsettled. He couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly, but he had a gut feeling that John knew more than he was saying.

He understood that his dad was looking out for him, trying to protect him, but Dean had a problem.

He didn’t like being left in the dark.

You were working later than usual that afternoon, so he had more than one reason to invite Sam and Cas out for a drink. They met at the Roadhouse and sat in their usual corner. Unfortunately, they were getting drinks and a show.

Jo stormed out of the back room behind the bar with her mother hot on her heels.

“You stop right there, Joanna Beth—”

“Mom, you’re not going to talk me out of it! I’m taking the damn test and I’m going to get in and I’m going to the Police Academy!”

“And all the money I shelled out for you to go to college, to get your degree, something I never got, by the way.”

“I know. And I’m grateful for that, but I did the college thing for you and Dad,” Jo said.“I don’t want to go into business. I never did.”

“No, because owning your own business ain’t respectable,” Ellen said, with all due sarcasm as she crossed her arms. “Never mind that I thought I could leave this place to you someday. Never mind that you’d rather be walking these streets with a gun than take care of the last thing your father left us.”

Jo finally stopped at that. She turned on her heel and withered slightly.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she said. “I just don’t want to serve at a bar my whole life, Mom. I want to help people.”

Ellen’s brows shot up at that. She leaned back on her heels, as if she’d been delt a blow. Dean looked over and saw the guilt that set over Jo’s features, but neither Harvelle woman backed down.

“So you don’t want to end up like me,” said Ellen, clicking her tongue. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“Mom, that’s not what I meant,” Jo tried, but her mother waved her off.

“No,” Ellen’s voice came out sharp as she went for a hand towel. “You do what you want, Jo. You’re grown, I suppose.”

She wiped down a few droplets by Cas’s hand before whipping the damp towel over her shoulder. And she walked down the line to continue serving her customers, leaving Jo standing at the other end, disheartened.

Sam and Dean shared a glance with each other, then with Cas, though they tried to keep their heads down and their noses out of the family business. Frankly, they were relieved when Jo left the bar.

Still, Dean couldn’t help but glance up at Ellen when she came back their way. He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

“Don’t you ask me if I’m okay, Dean Winchester,” she said. Her voice was quieter, tired, but it still cut like a whip.

He bobbed his head and looked down at his beer. “Yes, ma’am.”

But after a moment, his eyes raised to find Ellen’s face.

“You want another?” she asked, pointing to his drink. It was still half full, but Dean nodded with a smile, just to help her out. She seemed to want to distract herself with work. He was liable to do the same thing when he was stressed.

She nodded with a slight smile. After she left to go grab it for him, he raised his brows and looked over at his brother and his friend, whistling lowly.

“And we thought our family had issues,” Sam remarked. Dean huffed at that.

“Speaking of.” Dean turned to Cas on his left. “Dad told me you guys are making headway on this crime boss-turned-arsonist.”

Cas met him with a shrewd brow raise. “What did John tell you?”

Dean frowned, his brows knitting together. “I hate it when you do that.”

“What?”

“Cover his ass,” Dean replied. He lowered his voice to ask, “Have you figured out what’s connecting all the vics? What ties them to Azazel, besides the brand marks?”

Cas sighed, running a hand over his face. Meanwhile, Sam watched the exchange with tight lips.

“Dean, you know I can’t tell you that,” said Cas.

“Hey, this guy’s starting fires in my neck of the woods. I can help,” Dean said.

“We’re already working with Arson—”

“Oh yeah. Sounds like Dad’s party line.”

“Dean,” Sam interjected, but Dean shook his head stubbornly.

“No, Sam. This isn’t just about fires, or some random nut job offing people,” Dean said. He tried his best to keep his voice quiet, despite the frustration coursing through his blood. “This is about Mom, no matter how much you wish it wasn’t.”

The brothers stared at each other for a moment, their silence charged with unspoken confrontation.

Eventually, Sam relented with a shallow breath through his nose. He turned to Cas, as did Dean. With the weight of both Winchesters on him, Cas finally had to sigh as well. He set down his whiskey on the countertop.

“Jerry Stillwell, the CPA,” he began. “We traced a secondary bank account in his name. It showed several ‘consultant invoices,’ for tens of thousands of dollars. The payments were wired from a company called Edlund Emporium.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded. “What does it lead back to?”

“By all accounts, it’s just a wholesaler of antiques,” Cas explained. “But we believe it might be a shadow company for a larger enterprise. Drug runners are known to hide their product within secret compartments in furniture, in the frames behind paintings, etcetera.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Narcos,” Dean quipped.

“Who owns the Emporium?” Sam asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Cas admitted. “Its records are proving difficult to trace. However, the one relevant thing we were able to retrieve from Stillwell’s home files was an old audit of Edlund Emporium from 1996. It showed some old statements of the company using a storage facility downtown: Stull Storage.”

Stull Storage. Dean’s head tilted in thought. Why did that name sound familiar?

Cas noted his recognition with another nod.

“That particular storage facility was also linked to a money laundering scheme. You’re thinking of Paul Richardson, the father of two, who was killed in last month’s fire,” said Cas. “Well, as it turns out, he was a defense attorney who failed to get his client acquitted for that case. His client was a known drug runner, decades ago. And he actually pushed product for Azazel.”

“How do you know that?” Dean asked.

Cas sighed. “Your father remembered him from his time in Narcotics.”

Shit, Dean thought. He looked over at his brother, and by now, Sam’s gears were turning at Mach speed.

“Who owns Stull Storage then?” Sam asked.

“A company called Savage & Co.,” Cas said. He looked over more pointedly at Dean, whose eyes widened in realization.

“My girlfriend’s company?”

You hated having to work late. Not because of the working, but because the office was much quieter after 5:00 p.m. Too quiet.

Your desk phone rang, making you jolt in your seat. Once you saw the extension calling, you exhaled loudly and resigned yourself to answering the phone.

“Yes?”

“Come up to my office for a sec. I wanna discuss something with you,” said Nick.

And that. You really hated that.

Your eyes closed as you took in a breath.

“I’m working on an upsell for the Greenway account. Can we meet in the morning?” you asked.

“This is important,” he insisted.

You held in a sigh, but you agreed and hung up. You steeled yourself and took your phone with you as you decided to take the elevator up to the 30th floor. At least if it got stuck, it would get you out of this impromptu meeting with your boss.

Unfortunately for you, Betsy ran like clockwork. You were at Nick’s office within minutes—the penthouse suite of the building. Lavishly furnished, complete with a full leather couch set and coffee table for entertaining corporate big wigs, a large desk for Nick to pretend to work, and a fully stocked bar, where he did most of his “actual” work.

An expensive looking set of gold clubs were leaned against the wall, next to the bar. You knew it was his pride and joy, and he often brought it up in conversation when he was “networking.”

Just now, the sun was setting through the large windows overlooking his desk. The view was quite picturesque; the only thing that marred it was Nick Savage himself. He smiled and beckoned you into the room when he noticed you. You left the door open when you entered.

He got up from his desk and gestured over to the lounge area. He hinted at you taking a seat beside him on the same couch, but you sat on the opposite one, leaving the coffee table between you. His smile lessened a pinch. But he got up, as if he was just remembering something. He made his way to the bar.

“Want a drink?” he asked you over his shoulder.

“No, thank you,” you flatly replied. “Nick, I told Mr. Greenway that I would have that paperwork into processing by end-of-day today.”

“Yep, you are working hard,” Nick nodded. “Miss Busy Bee.”

He filled a tumbler three quarters of the way with bourbon and took it back with him to the couch where you sat. You crossed your legs and subtly shifted backwards. It left a foot or so of distance in between.

“That’s what I like about you,” he continued. “You do what it takes to get the job done.”

“I take my work seriously,” you said, in a pointed tone.

Nick inclined his head.

“You sure do. And you’re doing very well. In just a few years, you’ve racked up more accounts and upsells under your belt than anyone else on the team right now. Even Josh,” he said. “In fact, I’m considering you two as my top candidates for the Senior Sales Manager position. Adam’s leaving us for another company next month.”

That compliment surprised you, as well as the potential promotion. You’d heard that Adam Milligan was interviewing with other companies, but you hadn’t known that he was leaving. You blinked, nodding slowly.

“Thank you,” you said. “I appreciate the consideration…and I would look forward to the opportunity to grow in the company.”

Nick smiled. “Good! And while I believe in you, I just need to know that you’d be willing to do what it takes in this new role.”

That had a subtle alarm trembling up your spine.

“How so?” you asked. “Like you said, I think my margins speak for themselves, along with my ability to manage projects. I think that’ll translate well with managing the team.”

“But you’ve never managed people,” Nick pointed out. He leaned an arm on the back of the couch, his fingers drawing near to your arm. “Tell you what. I want to keep chatting about this, but I’m getting hungry. Why don’t I order some dinner, and we’ll keep pow-wowing.”

“Actually,” you said, leaning away from his hand. “I have plans this evening.”

He raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? What’re you up to?”

You didn’t feel you had to give him any details about your personal life, let alone that you didn’t actually have plans tonight (except for watching The Princess Bride with George. It was your favorite movie to watch together).

“I’m having dinner with my boyfriend,” you answered with a tight smile.

Your womanly pride hated that you had to use Dean as an excuse, but maybe then your boss would get the hint.

Nick’s lips thinned a bit as he leaned back in his seat. “Hmm, didn’t know you had one of those.”

“You met him,” you replied, arching a brow. “He’s a firefighter, remember?”

Nick nodded, though he made a non-committal sound.

“All right, well, I should go actually. He’s picking me up,” you said.

Though when you moved to stand, Nick’s hand wrapped around your wrist. His eyes met yours meaningfully, edged with interest as he eyed you.

“You sure you can’t stick around?” he asked.

His hold was firm enough to scare you, a subtle gasp catching in your throat when your eyes flicked up to his in warning. You instinctively jerked your hand back.

“Don’t touch me,” you said, even as you hated the slight tremor in your voice. “I’m warning you, Nick. I will go to HR. I don’t care how many lawyers you threaten me with. I’m not interested.”

Nick’s head tilted as he watched you with a frown.

“I hope you think hard, sweetheart.” He relaxed against the couch with arrogance, and it was beginning to make you sick. He crossed his arms as you stood and began to storm out of the office. All the while, his words followed you.

“Think about where you want to end up in this company, and who’s gonna get you there.”

You still had work to do, but you weren’t taking any chances. After you made it back to your office, you grabbed your work laptop and left for home. You had to take several calming breaths as you got into your car and turned the key into the ignition, but your hands still shook.

Then the car spluttered, refusing to start. You blinked, tried it again.

Still, the engine struggled and the dashboard shook.

Damn it, damn it! Don’t do this to me, you silently begged. You knew you should’ve had Dean look the old car over weeks ago. He’d offered more than once, but you kept forgetting. You bit your lip.

“Please,” you whispered. You just wanted to get the hell out of here. You glanced up and around the parking lot to make sure it was still empty, that no one was approaching.

After another painfully long moment of puttering, the car finally grumbled to life. A relieved breath rushed out of your body, and you began to peel out of the parking lot.

I can’t take much more of this, you thought as you drove home.

You also thought about calling Andréa. She still didn’t know all the details about what you were dealing with at the office. In fact, she knew little more than Dean.

And you really wanted to tell Dean. He had a way of calming your nerves and reassuring you when you felt out of sorts…and making you feel safe.

But you also knew how both your best friend and your boyfriend would react. Andréa would force you to go to HR, and then it would undoubtedly get messy. She could even get fired, if Nick was petty about it (and he usually was). You couldn’t afford to lose your job either.

Whereas Dean…

God, he’ll be so pissed, you thought. You had seen just a flash of his jealous side before, with Gordon. And that was one of his friends.

This would be infinitely worse.

Dean was protective. It was literally in his job description, but it was also just who he was as a person, you’d come to find. While you loved that about him, you also couldn’t have him storming your office building to wring Nick’s neck.

You needed your job. And even though you had updated your resume, with how hard you’d been working, you hadn’t had time to start scouring the online job boards…

You blew out a long breath. Your eyes were beginning to burn with frustrated tears. You sniffed and wiped under your eyes in vain.

Damn it, what the hell am I gonna do?

The question burned through your mind over and over, even when you got home. Your grandfather looked up from the show he was watching in the living room when you came in.

“Hey there, stranger,” he said. “Workin’ late?”

“Yeah,” you replied dully. You dumped your purse and workbag on the dining table and continued into the kitchen, not seeing how George frowned.

He slowly got up, wincing and at his aching joints and stifling a wet cough. He paused for a moment as a bout of nausea threatened to bowl him over.

When it passed, after a moment, he straightened. And he followed you into the kitchen, where you were peering into a near empty fridge.

“We barely have anything here,” you said with a sigh. “Okay, guess I’m going to the store. I can pick up something for dinner on the way home.”

“I’ll go with you,” George said. “I’ve been cooped up here all day.”

You shook your head without looking back at him, still making a mental note of everything you needed to buy.

“I heard you coughing. It doesn’t sound like your asthma,” you said, letting out a breath. Add a dash of worry for your grandfather’s health to spruce up your evening.

George sighed.

“Honey,” he tried. You were already shaking your head as you closed the fridge and turned to him with a frown.

“That primary doctor’s an idiot,” you said. “I’m calling your oncologist tomorrow morning.”

You went to grab your phone to set a reminder for yourself, but George stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“Would you stop?” he barked. “Just stop it!”

You blinked wide, and both literally and figurately, you took a step back. He wasn’t one to raise his voice, even when you were a child. But your earlier frustrations already had you on edge, and frankly, this was the last thing you needed.

“What?” you snapped back. “Clearly you need to see the doctor, and I’m not going to let you dismiss whatever it is you’re hiding and don’t want to tell me about! I’m sick of it.”

“Let me?” he said. “That right there is our problem. I’m not a goddamn kid. Damn well ain’t your kid or your responsibility. And I’m sick of you treating me like I already got one foot in the grave!”

You flinched as if he’d physically hurt you. Your eyes inevitably flooded with tears.

George relented when he saw it. He leaned a hand on the kitchen counter to steady himself.

“Look, hun. I’m 82. Every day, I take a stack of pills that sometimes make me feel worse than the damn cancer did. I got no illusions, and I do appreciate everything you do for me,” he said. “But you’re not my caretaker. You’re not my nurse. You’re my granddaughter.”

He grasped your hand with a warm squeeze. You sniffed and shook your head.

“I understand what you’re saying. And maybe…okay, I know I can be overbearing sometimes. But there’s a reality here that you don’t want to face,” you began. Though it was hard, you met his eyes.

“I’m not just your granddaughter,” you said. “I haven’t been since Grandma died. Because I’ve had to be more. Because you’re the only family I have, and I’ll make that choice every time.”

You let go of his hand and took up your purse, wiping at your eyes.

“But if you really want to come to the store, let’s go,” you said.

George stared back at you at a loss. Deep down, he knew there was a good deal of truth in your words, but he still felt like you weren’t quite hearing him.

Still, he followed you to the car.

You got into the driver’s seat of your Camry and briefly closed your eyes in a silent prayer. Then you turned the key in the ignition. The car turned on, to your surprise and relief.

You started the short drive out of your suburban neighborhood and down to the nearest grocery store. It was only 20 minutes away, and traffic wasn’t bad, but somehow the drive seemed to take an eternity on the two-way street. There was grass and forest on the passenger side, and the rest of the city approaching on the other.

Unbidden, your mind kept drifting back to this afternoon in Nick’s office. His words were like tendrils of black, oily ink coiling through your mind.

“I hope you think hard, sweetheart.”

Your hand tightened on the steering wheel, your teeth clenching. You could picture his lazy, arrogant smirk as he leaned back into the couch.

“Think about where you want to end up in this company, and who’s gonna get you there.”

You wanted to take one of his precious golf clubs and take a few swings at the man’s head.

“Something wrong with the car?” George asked.

“What?” you asked, flinching in your seat. But you realized then what he was saying. Your car was shaking, like it was about to stall. What the hell?

None of the service lights on the car were on, but this was a warning sign you couldn’t ignore.

George looked up as you approached a curve. “Slow down!”

Your gaze lifted just in time to see how an SUV from the opposite lane of oncoming traffic was drifting too far into your lane, on the curve. You corrected quickly with a jerk of the steering wheel, but your car jolted and stuck on the wheels’ position, and you couldn’t force it straight again.

It sent the car veering off the road and onto the grass, then tumbling down the hill into a sharp decline. You didn’t see the tree until you were feeling the impact of it hitting the front of the car, and nothing more.

You blinked awake, slowly. The side of your face felt numb as you manage to raise it from the airbag. Blood dripped down your nose over your lips, which you only realized after tasting copper on your tongue. You raised a trembling hand to your mouth and wiped some of it away.

Sucking in a breath, you turned your head. Fuck, that hurt.

“Grandpa? …Grandpa!”

George was still unconscious, though he didn’t look like he was bleeding. His airbag thankfully deployed as well. You looked around for your phone…if you remembered right, it had been in your purse. You looked over, and you saw it by his feet.

Though you were held back by your seatbelt and the airbag, and your whole body felt stiff and aching, you reached over and grabbed the purse’s strap. From there you pulled it towards you, with pained grunts, and whimpers, and shallow breaths.

When you were able to fish out your cell, your blood-stained thumb shook while swiping through your contacts.

You knew you should call 911 first, but your instincts took hold. There was only one person you could call. Your eyes began to burn the longer the line rang. By the time it finally connected, the first tears welled up.

“Hey, baby. Good timing,” Dean answered. He sounded tired. “Was just thinking about calling you.”

Your heart had traveled up into your throat to hear his voice. But now, it was hard to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth.

“Dean,” you managed, though your throat became clogged with emotion. Your tears blurred your vision and finally slid down your cheeks.

You tried to push at your seatbelt; it felt like it was cutting your circulation across your chest. But that proved to be a mistake, as the tight fabric just pressed into the bruising you already felt forming against your skin. You couldn’t contain a small whimper.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. His tone was more alert now, changed with the distress he likely heard in your voice.

You took in a shuddering breath as more tears rolled down your face.

“I need help.”

Dean had already been home from the bar when you called. But when he heard your voice, full of pain, your plea for help—it was like a stone dropping into his stomach.

“What happened? Where are you?” he asked. Already he was off the couch and looking for his wallet and keys. Sam was crashing at Eileen’s tonight. Dean would have to call him later. He locked the apartment and hastened down the stairs.

You were eventually able to tell him that your car had swerved after locking up on you. That you’d crashed into a ditch, against a tree.

“Grandpa’s with me. He still hasn’t woken up,” you said through tears. “I can’t move—”

“Don’t!” Dean interrupted, another lance of panic running through him. But he gentled, hearing your soft crying. “Don’t move. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m comin’ to get you. Did you call 911?”

“No…not yet,” you admitted with a sniff.

He nodded to himself. “All right. I’m gonna call this in, make sure they’re on the way.”

“Don’t hang up, please,” you begged.

Dean was torn. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew he needed to get the fire department there as soon as possible.

“I won’t, I promise. Just hold on while I make the call,” he said as he climbed into his car. “I’m going to get the team out to you, okay?”

You sniffled again, but you finally agreed. Dean put you on hold while he called 911. All the while he was driving out of his neighborhood and onto the main road. He gave them his badge number to make sure they knew who he was, and that his girlfriend and her grandfather needed help on 32nd Street and Parker.

After he hung up with the operator, he got back on the line with you and kept you company while he drove. He gave you reassuring words, tried to keep you calm with a few wise cracks to lighten you up. Some of them you seemed to appreciate (others you didn’t).

When he pulled up to the right location, he didn’t see your car at first. That is, until he pulled over to the side of the road. He saw the edge of your bumper just over the slope, and then the rest of your Camry in the ditch. The hood was crumpled like an accordion into a tree, but at least it wasn’t smoking too bad (or on fire).

His heart clenched, but he forced himself to act—with the same fight or flight response he had to overpower with every call he responded to on the job.

Dean climbed out of his car and quickly grabbed the steel Halligan he kept in the trunk. It was essentially a more professional crowbar.

Then he jogged down into the ditch.

He went to the driver’s side first. He saw your tear-streaked face through the window, could hear your muffled voice call his name. He tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Can you unlock it?” he asked.

“I tried earlier,” you said. “It won’t open.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, no problem. Lean back.”

You obliged him, and once he was sure you were ready, Dean used the Halligan to pry the door open. He could’ve busted open the window, but this was safer.

Once the door was cracked open enough, he pushed it the rest of the way so he could get to you. He punctured through the air bag with the sharp end of the Halligan and pushed it down to deflate it a bit. It allowed you to grab onto his arm, and he reached for you, cupping your cheek and wiping at your tears with his thumb.

“Dean…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said, when you tearfully squeezed his arm. He noticed the drying blood around your nose and stained down your blouse. You were still dressed for work.

“Dean-o, hey,” said George from the passenger side. He was awake, but his eyes were half-lidded.

“Hey, George,” Dean nodded with a smile, to hide his concern. “How’re you doin’ over there?”

“Okay,” George tried, but it ended on a wet cough.

“Check on him. Please,” you asked. Dean nodded, but first, he leaned in a pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a subtle breath of relief. You closed your eyes, and a couple more tears slipped down. You squeezed his hand gratefully.

“Stay put for me,” he said. You hummed in agreement. And by now he could hear the sirens of an ambulance nearby.

Good, he thought, especially when he went over to the passenger side and wrenched the door open. He leaned George back in his seat, away from the airbag, and measured his pulse at his clammy wrist. It was a bit too fast for Dean’s liking.

“I’m good, right?” George asked. He was pale and sweating.

“That’s right. You’re gonna be hittin’ the roller disco in no time,” Dean said. George smiled in amusement, letting out a huff.

Dean smirked, then gave you a reassuring look. “The paramedic’s coming now. Just keep taking even breaths for me.”

A couple of minutes later, two paramedics came with a board and a neck brace to carry someone out. Dean recognized them from the shift opposite to his: Ed and Harry. They were a couple of chuckle brothers, but they did their job well. Dean instructed them to get George out first, and he helped them do it.

“We’re going to get to you next, ma’am,” Ed told you.

“Is he okay?” you asked. Worry for your grandfather was steeped in your watery eyes.

“They’re taking him up to the ambulance now. Another one’s coming for you,” Dean said. He was on his way back over to your side of the car, but he hurried when he saw you trying to get out. Apparently you’d managed to unclip your seatbelt when he wasn’t looking.

“Whoa, hey! What’re you doing?” Dean said. You gave him a small heart attack when you nearly fell out of the car on your shaky legs. He guided you back to sit, but you were adamant about getting out.

“I don’t want to wait,” you said sternly, though the effect was hampered by the way your voice also trembled.

“Okay, okay. I gotcha,” Dean nodded, but he urged you to let him help. He was careful in how he slipped his arms behind your back and under your knees. “Any sharp pain? In your neck, anywhere else?”

Truthfully, your neck did hurt. But it wasn’t that bad, you reasoned. The rest was just aches and bruises you were sure you would have later. You rested against his chest.

“I’m okay,” you said. Your arm curled around his shoulder while your free hand laid against his chest. “Thank you.”

Dean sighed and pressed another kiss to your hair, and then your forehead before he made his way up the slope with you in his arms. Once he got back onto the road, he spoke to Donna Hanscum, the police officer who’d arrived at the scene. She worked in the same precinct as his father and Jody.

You briefly explained what happened to cause the crash—the SUV drifting and your car locking up out of your control. Donna took notes all the while. Dean then let her know that he was taking you to the hospital.

“She really should wait for the ambulance,” Donna said, though her eyes were kind, taking in your tear-streaked face and the way you clung to Dean. She might have to visit you later for a more detailed statement, but she knew an honest mistake when she saw one.

“Eh, I’m saving them a trip,” Dean said. “That’s gas and labor cuttin’ costs right there.”

Donna shook her head, despite a smile.

“All right, Dean. Just go.” She gave you one last look of sympathy. “Feel better, hun. Looks like you’re in good hands.”

You nodded with a small smile. Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes and relaxed against Dean.

Dean stayed with you in the Emergency Department while a nurse cleaned the blood from your face, took your vitals, and tested your vision and hearing.

Your blood pressure was high, but that was to be expected. All else fell into the realm of normal, considering. Though when the nurse checked your neck, you grimaced a little when she slowly turned your head from side to side.

“Hmm. Scale of 1 to 10 on the pain?” she asked.

You glanced at Dean, who raised his brows at you expectantly. That look said, Tell the truth.

“I don’t know…4,” you replied.

The nurse gave you a knowing glance. “You can be honest. Is it a 4, or more like a 6?”

You bit your lip. “Okay, a 5.”

“All right. That’s understandable,” she said. The nurse then grabbed a brace to set around your neck. “The doctor will be in shortly to check you out, but likely she’ll order some X-rays, and possibly prescribe you something short-term for the pain.”

You sighed in annoyance. “How long will that take? I need to see my grandfather.”

“Want me to check on him again?” Dean asked. Now that the nurse was done, he came over to where you were sitting on the edge of the examining bed to rest a hand on your back.

He’d made sure George was stable and comfortable in his own room. The ED doctor had ordered blood tests, among other things, since he was a former cancer patient. But also because he had a fever and an elevated blood pressure that didn’t seem to just be related to the crash. He was now sleeping while the hospital ran the rest of their tests.

You turned to Dean with red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes. “I want to see him.”

Dean slipped an arm around you and tucked you against him more securely.

“You will, sweetheart. You just need to get checked out first,” he said. He was worried about you. You seemed all right, but he didn’t like your tendency to forget about yourself. Sometimes, you were a bit too much like him.

You sighed in defeat (for now). But after a moment, your small voice broke through the quiet.

“I should’ve let you look at the car,” you said.

Dean glanced down at you and caught the guilt written across your face. His brows knit together as his heart clenched again.

“Don’t do that,” he said with a sigh. “It’s not your fault.”

“My car, my goddamn fault,” you said through tears.

“Stop, baby,” Dean said. He held you closer, laying a kiss on the top of your head while you tried to stifle your tears.

He waited with you until the doctor finally arrived to examine you. She spotted the same things as the nurse, and after another hour of X-rays (clean of any breaks) and tests (all ultimately fine), she prescribed you an anti-inflammatory pain killer, as well as rest. And of course, if your pain worsened, you were to come back to the ED.

After the doctor left for the last time, Dean agreed to walk you down to your grandfather’s hospital room. George was awake, though he seemed groggy with the pain medication they had him on through the IV. He greeted you and Dean with an attempt at a smile.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. His hand turned over to welcome yours, and he squeezed, seeing the tears in your eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, sniffling. “I’m good. How’re you feeling?”

Your gaze drifted to his chart, to the medications and fluids they had him on, what tests were listed…

George’s hand tugged on yours, pulling your attention back to him.

“They’ve got it in hand. Don’t you worry about me,” he said.

You flickered at a smile, as you both knew that wasn’t in the cards. In fact, you’d barely been sitting down on the edge of his bed for a couple of minutes before you were asking if the recline of his bed was comfortable. If he needed more water, or another blanket.

George responded negatively to most of your questions, though he shot Dean an imploring look over your head. The other man nodded and gently grasped your shoulders.

Dean could see why you were blustering around—so you wouldn’t crack from anxiety and exhaustion. But he needed to stop you before you hurt yourself. (Not to mention, before you drove George crazy.)

“Hey, come ‘ere a sec,” said Dean. He guided you into a nearby chair and soothed a hand over your hair. He kneeled down next to you and grabbed your hand. You let out a breath and held onto him back.

“You need to take it easy, okay? Need to,” Dean said, in a quiet but firm tone he didn’t often use with you. He reached for the slip of paper the doctor gave you, now stuffed in your purse. “Everything’s gonna get taken care of. You just relax here, and I’m going to go fill out your prescription.”

Dean waited for you to meet his eyes; he was only satisfied when you nodded in acceptance. He gave you a smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. It was comfort and relief, for both of you.

You held him there for a moment with a hand on his cheek. Your fingers traced across his brow, and down his jawline. If it were even possible, after everything he’d done today, you were never more grateful for him than in this moment.

George watched the little scene from his bed with a soft smile.

Finally, he thought. And it meant many things.

After Dean reluctantly pulled away, he promised he’d be back soon. He then left to take your prescription to the closest pharmacy, also fishing out his phone to call Sam and let him know what was going on at the hospital.

Dean had a feeling you all were going to be here for a while.

AN: *exhales* Okay. 😅 A lot going on in this chapter. Another piece of the puzzle, more of why Nick needs his ass handed to him, and a dramatic save. Let me know what you thought!

And please forgive me for where we're going next...

Next Time:

Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

Keep Reading: PART 11

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

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#Toil and Trouble #Smoke Eater #Part 10 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #Castiel #Sam winchester #spn #supernatural #zepskies writes

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castiwls · 8 months

Note

Hey there! 😀 Can I request two sets of headcanons about being Sam and Dean's twin sister?

"i was with you before we were even born"

Being the boy's twin

Dean

He’s older by like 5 minutes (he never lets you forget it)

You were both really close even as babies. I imagine there was a phase where if your parents separated you both for too long you would cry.

You both get closer after the fire. For the first few months, you would always curl up in the same bed together out of fear of the other one disappearing.

As a teen, you started to question your dad more and more about hunting. You're not as complacent as Dean is to John and his rules. This led to many arguments.

“Why can’t you just do as he says?” “Because Dad’s word isn't god Dean!”

He’d be just as protective over you as he is of Sam.

When Sam left for Stanford you and Dean started to take cases on your own.

You would try and sabotage any hookups he found in bars. You really hated having to go for ‘walks’ during said hookups. He got you back for it.

You both look very alike.

When it was just you and Dean hunting there were multiple times where people would mistake you for a couple of cases.

After your dad died you and Dean didn’t talk for a while. You both argued over why John did what he did and it led to one of your worst fights.

Bobby had to kick sense into you both.

You and Dean don’t fight often but when you do it's bad. When you were younger one time it got so bad that it took Sam yelling and walking out for you both to stop.

When Castiel came around you were unsure but after he saved you on a hunt you began to trust him.

Knowing Dean wasn’t ok after Hell and begging him to talk.

“Dean I know you're not ok.” You frowned and reached out to his arm. “You can talk to me, no one's gonna judge you.”

He did eventually tell you he remembered hell. He begged you not to tell Sam though. (You did tell Sam though)

Finding out about the whole vessel thing and freaking out.

“What do you mean vessels? Why is Heaven and Hell’s fight our issue?”

Since you and Dean were twins you both were classed as Micheal vessels.

You were adamant that Dean wasn’t doing it and he was the same about you.

This again led to another argument.

In the end, there was no way you were letting Sam walk into that fight alone so you ended up saying yes also.

Dean was pissed.

Dean begging for months after that Cas or someone would pull you both out of the cage. (Little did he know someone had)

You randomly appeared on Lisa’s doorstep 6 months later and Dean completely freaked.

After that, he barely let you out of his sight.

You didn’t tell him about Sam also being out (You knew something was wrong with your younger brother and you didn’t wanna worry Dean.)

Eventually reuniting with Sam and feeling so guilty when you found out he had no soul.

Dean insisted that it wasn’t your fault.

He helped you with nightmares from the cage. You found yourself sleeping in the same bed as him again.

Sam

You were older by like 10 minutes. You always teased him about it.

He got you back by teasing you over being short.

Neither of you have any memories of life before the fire so as children you used to both make up stories to help comfort each other.

These stories helped you both pretend that you at least knew your mom and what normal life was like.

You both kinda depended on each other growing up.

While you didn’t verbalise it like Sam, you also didn’t like hunting or the constant moving around.

You were a bit more of a social butterfly than your twin but you still struggled with having to make new friends constantly.

Like your brother, you were also quite smart and did well in school.

For a while, you wanted to be a doctor but knew realistically you had no chance.

As you got older you began to grow a slight resentment towards your dad for forcing you all into this life. One day after a bad hunt you snapped and told your dad how you felt. New’s flash it went really bad.

Your eyes widened as you realised what you had just said. Dean slowly pushed his arm in front of you urging you to move back as your Dad turned to face you. “What did you just say.” Your dad’s voice was hard as he took a step forward. You felt Sam pull you back further as Dean tried to defuse the situation.

After that things were awkward for a while. You went to go stay with Bobby much to Sam’s disdain.

You came back a year later when you were 17.

Things were ok until Sam left for Stanford. You were happy for him but also jealous that he was getting out and you weren't.

During that time you and Dean became close.

Reconnecting with Sam after your dad went missing and helping him when Jess died.

Feeling guilty when your dad died that you spent so much time resenting him (He apologised just before Azael came)

Unlike your brother, Azael didn’t do anything to you so you never had any issues with demon blood.

Convincing Sam that he wasn’t a monster.

When he died the first time you were inconsolable for days.

You and Dean arguing over Deans's deal.

Hating Ruby and knowing she was up to something. Her also causing you and Sam to fall out over his powers.

You and Dean both knew that while Sam was trying to do a good thing she was not.

Helping him with his guilt over Litlth and Lucifer.

Him and you making up after Rubys' death. This actually made you and Sam closer than ever.

Again having to convince him that he is not a bad person when the whole Lucifer and Micheal thing comes to light.

You’re the middleman in the situation. You spent most of your time trying to convince both your brothers not to say yes.

Convincing Dean but not managing to convince your twin.

Before saying yes Sam said that he wanted you to get out and have a normal life.

You were pretty heartbroken but after hanging around Dean and Lisa for a few months you ended up meeting someone (Lisa set you up but you don’t know that)

You both moved in together and you found yourself actually enjoying this normal life.

Then Sam appeared and you had to choose. Dean told you to stay but you knew you couldn’t leave Sam.

When you found out about Sam having no soul you felt so guilty.

“How didn't I realise sooner?” You sat down on the bed placing your head in your hands. Dean gently rubbed your back with a small sigh. “None of us knew. It’s not your fault.

You ended up kinda living two lives for the next year until Sam got his soul back and you realised living two lives was too dangerous. You broke up with him but you both ended up getting back together a few years later.

Sam was happy that you'd found someone and pushed for you to stay with him. But you knew your place was always gonna be with your brothers.

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apocalypseornaw · 6 months

Text

Look after You

Dean Winchester x Gender neutral Reader

You're hurt in a car accident and Dean takes care of you.

@hpxmcusworld I hope you enjoy

Dean was pacing the floor of the library, staring at his phone and silently begging it to ring. You should've been back by now. Why hadn't he gone with you?

"Still no word?” Sam asked, walking in behind him and he nearly growled “No. Man, can you track their phone,please?” Sam felt his heart drop at Dean's voice. He knew his brother loved you, he had for years and the thought of losing you terrified him. If after all the loss something happened to you Sam wasn't sure Dean would survive it.

Right as Sam got his laptop on, Dean's phone started blaring. Dean answered it and a voice he didn't recognize hit his ears “Is this Mister Dean Campbell?” He swallowed hard before saying “Yes” “We have your spouse here. They were brought in from an automobile accident”

“WHAT?” Dean felt his heart threaten to stop at that moment. His ears started ringing and his knees weakened. Sam moved to his side and took the phone, clicking the speaker on “Hello?” “Mister Campbell?” The doctor asked and Sam replied “This is his brother” “Oh well I was telling your brother we have his spouse in the emergency department. They were injured in an automobile accident. A drunk driver ran a stop sign and hit their car. They're stable but currently in for a CT scan. We need their emergency contact here as soon as possible” “We'll get there as soon as we can”

Your head was throbbing, the bright fluorescent lights were killing you. What was worse was according to the doctors you'd lost a few weeks. The last thing you remembered was Christmas and apparently it was St Patrick's Day weekend.

You were terrified and alone. The doctor had told you he called Dean but he hadn't arrived yet. You knew he'd be to your side soon though.

—-----------

The moment you were wheeled out of the room for the scan however you heard Dean's voice loud and clear “Where are they at? You called me and told me they're hurt, then I got here and what? You fucking lost them?”

You laughed lightly and the nurse smiled “That him?” You grinned “Yes ma'am” already feeling better knowing Dean was here. He'd take care of you.

You sat on your bed with Dean's arm wrapped protectively around you. He hadn't moved since he got to your side. As always Sam was being the more diplomatic one, handling paperwork and talking to doctors. “I should go find the asshole that hit you and rip his lungs out” he grumbled and you smiled, curling into his side “They said I'll be ok Dean. It's just a concussion and should heal on its own” he nodded “Doesn't mean I'm not still pissed someone hurt you. I'm pissed at them and at myself. I never should've let you go alone”

You sighed knowing this was an argument you'd lose. Of course Dean was blaming himself instead of the person who chose to drink way too much and get behind the wheel.

After about an hour Sam came in pushing a wheelchair “Good news. Your awesome brother in law talked the doctor into letting you go home. We have a list of aftercare precautions but given our history with injuries I'm sure we can handle it” you cut your eyes at Dean who sighed “about time. I want to get you back to the bunker”

“I can walk!” You squealed when Dean picked you up out of the backseat and headed out of the garage and towards your shared room. He nodded “I know but I'm not taking no chances of hurting you further. Cas will be here in two days to heal you. Until then you're not getting out of my sight”

Once you made it to the room he sat you gently down on the bed then dug in the dresser pulling out one of his own shirts and a pair of his boxers. At your look he rolled his eyes “Don't act like you don't enjoy wearing my clothes more than yours anyways” He did have a point.

He treated you like you were made of glass as he stripped you of the scrubs the hospital had given you and dressed you in his clothes. Once he was sure you were comfortable he kicked off his boots and crawled into bed next to you, pulling you over on his chest “You need anything baby?”

You shook your head “I remember Christmas. Can you catch me up?” He smiled before catching your lips in a gentle kiss “Of course”

—---------------

Before you fell asleep Dean sat multiple alarms to wake you up at the needed intervals. Once you were out he laid there, watching your chest rise and fall gently. He needed the assurance you were ok.

He loved you more than he'd ever dreamt of loving someone. When he met you he was knocked off his feet by how much he wanted you the moment he laid eyes on you but then he got to know you. Every conversation, every hunt, every late night talk he fell deeper and deeper.

The day he realized he loved you wasn't a big scene or anything memorable really. You were sitting in Bobby's kitchen, helping him make salt rounds and humming under your breath. When he'd walked into the room you met his eyes and smiled and he'd felt like he'd been hit by a truck when the realization hit him that you owned his heart and he had no intention of ever asking for it back.

If something had happened to you…no he wouldn't go down that rabbit hole. You were here, alive and he'd make sure from now on he was always at your side. Logically he knew he couldn't have stopped a wreck but his heart wasn't hearing that. You were his and he would be damned before anything ever hurt you again.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x gn!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction

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samdeancass · 1 year

Text

Angel Trap

Requested by Anonymous

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!angel!reader

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Sam, Y/N, Dean

Description: Sam and Y/N have been harboring feelings for each other for a long time. When the brothers make an angel trap, they accidentally trap Y/N inside. Dean begins to tease Sam about his feelings which is when everything starts to unravel.

Being an angel was hard enough with the constant fighting between your siblings and waging wars with each other but, somehow, being friends with the Winchesters was harder. You and Cas were the only angels that were fully on their side which meant that you spent every moment at the bunker, helping them with whatever case they had next.

That was how your feelings for Sam had started and blossomed. Helping him in whatever way he needed, sometimes without him knowing. It had never occurred to you that an angel could fall for a human but it felt like that was what was happening. What you didn’t know, however, was that Sam felt the same way. The sly looks he gave, the slight brushes against your arm when you were standing together; you should have questioned his strange, new behaviour but you chalked it up to him being a typical human.

What you both didn’t know, however, was that these feelings would come to light sooner than you were expecting.

__________

Sam and Dean were on a case that required the help of a specific angel that they had encountered a few years ago. They were inside an abandoned building, completely engulfed in darkness and perfect for an angel summoning. Dean jumped up from drawing the last of the trap, rubbing his hands together to get rid of the chalk dust. “Alright, Sammy. Hit it.”

Sam looked down at the open page in the book, his finger moving along the page as he spoke the words of the enochian chant. A bright light engulfed the room along with a piercing noise that led to both of the brothers covering their ears and closing their eyes.

Once the light has dissipated, the brothers looked over to the trap and were completely confused with the sight before them. Instead of the angel that they wanted to summon in the trap, you stood in their place with your arms folded over your chest, shaking your head.

“What on earth are you two doing?” Sam scratched the back of his head nervously. “We weren’t meant to summon you.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I guessed that, dumbass.” An idea sprung into Deans head and he gave Sam a look, one that Sam had come to despise. “No, don’t even think about it Dean.”

“There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Dean walked up to the edge of the holy fire, a smug smirk on his face. “While we’ve got you here, Y/N, I wanted to ask you something.” You raised one eyebrow curiously. “Yeah? Shoot.” Dean opened his mouth but before he could speak, Sam dragged him back to were they were stood. “Dean, no.”

You threw your hands in the air in frustration. “Seriously, guys. What on earth is going on here?!” Dean shrugged Sam’s hand from his shoulder and gave a teasing look. “Little Sammy here is getting a little embarrassed.” “Dean, I’m warning you.” Sam was practically growling at this point which peaked your curiosity. “Why would Sam Winchester be embarrassed?”

Dean chuckled, leaning against a wooden beam before flashing a smile. “Because he has feelings for you and he didn’t want you to find out, but he knew that I would tell you. Seriously Sammy, you should know by now not to tell me anything.”

Sam was looking all around the room, trying to evade looking at you which is why he missed the blush creeping onto your cheeks. Dean, however, did not, His mouth hung open, the edges of his mouth turning upwards. “No frickin’ way! You like him to, don’t you?”

Sam looked at you at this point, eyes wide at the slight possibility that you felt the same way. You nodded slightly, afraid to meet the Winchesters’ gaze. Sam grabbed some holy water, doused out the flames and connected his lips to yours in one of the most passionate kisses you had ever experienced.

All the pent up feelings from the past few years were finally able to release themselves as the kiss carried on, your arms wrapping around Sam’s neck as his hands found your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your hands found their way to his hair, your fingers threading through his long locks.

He broke the kiss and stared down at you, nothing but love in his eyes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You giggled and leaned your forehead against his. “I think I do.” A clearing of a throat brought you back down to Earth as you both looked over at Dean who was trying his best not to be pleased that both his brother and best friend had finally confessed their feelings for each other.

“Now if you’ve both finished eating each others faces off, I think it’s time to get back to the case, don’t you?” Sam chuckled at his brothers annoyance before pressing a kiss to the side of your head and taking your hand in his. “Wanna help us out?”

You nodded, smiling up at Sam. “Of course, you boys would be lost without me.”

Supernatural Tags:

@akshi8278 @bxoken-heartss @deascheck @desimarie12

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff

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bobwess · 1 month

Text

Ao3 is down for a hot sec

As per tradition, here is one of my one-shot fics to tide y'all over~

2,398 words (Now that Ao3 is up, here is the link to mine~)

Dean tried unsuccessfully to focus on the mug in front of him. Rubbing his eyes just triggered a yawn. He looked ruefully at his watch; Maybe he needed more than four or five hours sometimes. He absently turned the spoon, cereal dangerously close to sloshing out of the bowl.

When he heard the footsteps behind him he turned to see if it was Sam or Cas.

"Hello Dean."

"Mmh." Dean said, fighting through a yawn. He cracked his neck. "Mornin' Cas." He closed his eyes for a second and suddenly Cas was sitting at the table next to him. He had to remind himself that it was just 'being tired', and not 'Cas could suddenly fly again'.

"Have you or Sam heard anything?"

"What, itching to get out of here already?" There was something different. Something was… his thoughts weren't quite up to the task of figuring it out yet.

"No." Cas said, "But I would like to help."

"If it's a case you want, we can kick a few rocks, see what falls out." The picture wasn't right… that much he could tell.

"I would like that."

Oh.

Cas was wearing his shirt.

Cas was not wearing a suit.

"Sounds like a plan." He heard himself say. No tie, no dress pants.

"Thank you."

A week ago Cas' tan coat finally met a stain it couldn't part with. Dean offered to take Cas on a hunt for a new one, but Cas wasn't interested. 'I think it is time for something different.'

Dean had gone out that evening and grabbed Cas a few things to start his 'something different'.

Cas was sitting here in a pair of jeans, a white tee and what was definitely his shirt.

Probably.

Was it?

Dean continued on. "It's been a while since we stretched our legs. Could be good."

He would have remembered getting Cas a flannel shirt. Wouldn't he? He was a little drunk when he was putting the things in Cas' closet. But he wasn't drunk when he was buying them.

Why would Cas be wearing your shirt? He wouldn't be.

Honestly it suits him. Being un-suited.

Dean couldn't help the grin that accompanied his own perceived hilarity. He shook it off, unnoticed.

Maybe he borrowed it from Sam?

Dean finished the last of his coffee and regretfully dragged himself to his feet. "Alright. I'll grab my laptop and meet you in the library."

He watched Cas head out of the kitchen and he frowned. It wasn't very often he saw Cas out of his normal get up. The last week had been jarring on its own, seeing him in only a suit.

He did look good though.

Mmh. Not important.

Dean walked his mug to the sink, washing it out and drying his hands before heading towards his room to find them a case.

Those were his jacket and jeans. He was sure of it this time.

Dean had just bought those jeans… black, and tighter than he usually wore, and right now noticeably tighter than Cas usually wore. The jacket had been in the back of the closet for a while now, but it had been in his closet.

This would be the fourth and fifth item this week that Dean recognized from his own wardrobe. Trouble was, it was too late to call him on it. One of those things that felt like he had missed the window where it wouldn't have been awkward to ask. Now he felt obligated to sort of sit and wait it out.

That jacket never looked right on me. It looks right on him.

Dean continued to pull things out of his bag onto the motel bed, trying not to make it obvious that he was looking over Cas' outfit choices.

He tried to reason out when the hell Cas had time to get into his closet. He never had caught Cas at it yet. For a while he figured he was just grabbing things out of the laundry. Maybe Cas grabbed the jeans from the laundry room but that coat definitely hadn't been out of his closet in months.

At least it's getting some wear.

On top of that, Dean had to admit the jeans worked for Cas. He hadn't quite gotten up to wearing them out. They weren't skinny jeans, but they were… very fitted.

A fact that was very apparent right now.

He couldn't stop looking. Maybe it was just because he had known Cas in exactly one outfit for years, with a few notable exceptions that were just as jarring as this.

The coat, the suit… he hadn't ever thought they looked bad. If he was honest with himself, he liked that tan coat. But it was easy to forget that Cas was more than that sort of box of clothing.

Dean watched Cas turn and walk out the door.

Very fitted.

Dean felt the heat rise in his face and he forced himself to focus back on shoving his stuff back into his bag.

Sam was leaning on the map table, scrolling through his laptop when he heard his brother walk in, and he nodded a thanks when a hot mug of coffee was slid in front of him.

Dean carried his coffee over to a small cart in the corner, opening a bottle of whiskey and adding a splash to his mug.

"Dude, it's like noon." Sam protested.

"Coffee and whiskey. Think of it like brunch."

"Brunch where?"

"Ireland."

"You're not Irish."

"I am today."

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean sat across the table. "How's Cas settling in?"

Dean took a sip of his coffee, pausing for a second before a brief nod of approval. He stretched before finally acknowledging his brother's question. "Fine, I think."

"You think?" Sam asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, I mean. He seems to be making himself right at home." Dean muttered.

"You still bitter he took that Metallica shirt?"

Dean threw him a glare. "It's not just 'that Metallica shirt', it's a crew shirt that I got on their tour in Mexico city-"

"That you got by sleeping with an usher."

"That's besides the point." Dean huffed.

"Dean, that shirt is old enough to drink."

"It's vintage. And now it has a coffee stain I have no idea if I'll ever get out."

Sam rolled his eyes again. "I think you'll live."

"Yeah." Dean muttered sullenly.

"You know you could probably just tell him to stop raiding your closet."

Dean sighed, his disagreeable expression melting into a somewhat resigned but more sincere look. "I feel bad."

"The coat wasn't your fault."

Dean fidgeted with his mug in his hands. "I should have told him to let you wash it." He ignored Sam's indignant look. "It was soaked in blood after that case."

"I think it was a goner even before the bleach."

"I thought he just…" Dean gestured vaguely. "You know, angel magicked it clean or whatever."

"You-"

"He's done it before!"

"I don't think he can do that anymore." Sam pointed out. The last time he saw Cas pull off a miraculous clothing change, Cas had his wings.

"I didn't know he was gonna dump a bottle of bleach on it and leave."

"You couldn't have. And you got him some new stuff."

"I think he's trying to find his own style."

"Right now I think he's trying to find your style."

"Mmh." Dean said with a noncommittal shrug. He took another long sip of coffee before he choked, sending it sputtering, whiskey burning his nose and throat as he struggled to get control.

Seemingly oblivious to almost killing Dean, Cas walked through the library.

"Where the hell did he get those?" Sam mused, mostly to himself, watching Cas disappear into one of the other doors.

"I don't know." Dean lied, voice strained. "I should uh-"

"Stop him before he tries to go out in those?"

"Yeah." Dean agreed weakly. He stood and gathered his mug, hastily making his way towards the kitchen to drop it off and try to follow Cas. He wandered the halls in the direction he saw Cas heading towards, finally hearing the sound of the water coming from the garage.

Dean froze in the doorway.

He wasn't sure exactly what Cas was doing, but for the moment it didn't matter. His eyes flicked down to the shorts, feeling a hot flash across his cheeks. A stubborn oil stain had ruined the jeans, and he had decided to try and cut them off. He didn't actually own any shorts.

He cut them way too short.

He had tried them on once before he pushed them back into the closet, probably for good.

Dean had forgotten they were even in there.

Whatever Cas was doing, he was absolutely drenched already. Water was dripping down from his torso over his legs and pooling near the drain on the garage floor. Dean's Led Zeppelin t-shirt was stuck tight to Cas' chest and biceps, and the shorts were stuck tight to his everything. And he-

The thought was cut off as he suddenly got a face full of water. He thrust his hand in front of his eyes, trying to shield himself at all from the spray as he hurried over to take the hose from an increasingly distressed Castiel. He unhooked the latch keeping the sprayer locked on, dropping it back to the ground once it was off.

Dean was soaked through, his gray robe clinging to his calves and slippers squelching with each slight shift of his weight. He looked up at Cas, eyes wide and body frozen with his arms slightly out as he felt the water running off him. "What-" He swallowed. "Are you doing?"

"Washing your car." Cas answered easily.

"You're-" Dean shook his arms, trying in vain to dry them a little. "Why?"

"I wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"Allowing me to borrow your clothing."

"For…" Dean stopped, the pieces slotting into place. "Sam told you to raid my closet for whatever you needed." He guessed. That little shit seemed so innocent earlier.

Cas nodded. "It was generous. I was trying to think of a way to show my appreciation, and I decided on this. It was… less successful than I hoped."

"You think?" Dean asked, flatly. He couldn't help the smile forming though. "You're supposed to aim the hose away from you, you know."

"It slipped." Cas lamented, looking down at the hose like it had done it on purpose. "I am sorry I have gotten you wet."

Dean swallowed. "Yeah." He said weakly. He shrugged his arms out of the sodden knit, tossing the gray robe over the tool box in the corner of the room. Walking noisily back, he took a second to be thankful he was at least wearing pajama pants.

Though he'd be in good company.

Cas turned and Dean was reminded that he had cut them even shorter in the back; There was not an insignificant amount of cheek visible.

Not that I'm looking.

Dean took a deep breath, taking it in.

It's just they're so…

"Dean?"

"You look good." Dean's mouth betrayed him before his brain fully caught up. He choked a little, covering it with a cough. "I mean, the… you've been picking good stuff. The-" Dean gestured vaguely in Cas' direction. "The shorts… you… it's not bad."

Cas tilted his head slightly, working through the rambling. "Thank you." He finally decided.

"You're welcome." Dean said blankly.

"I would still like to do this for you."

Dean looked from Cas to the hose on the ground, trying to remember what exactly Cas meant before he remembered the car. The static in his mind cleared and he took a deeper breath. "Let's compromise. We do it together and I can show you how to do it properly."

Cas gave a small smile. "I'd like that." he said, leaning down to pick up the hose, the bottom of his cut-offs lifting up precariously. He handed it to Dean.

Dean held it for a minute before he closed his hand around the handle, blasting Cas full force in the face.

Cas threw his hands up in a futile attempt to block any of the water. When it stopped, he just stood there, blinking back at Dean. "That was fair." He said at last.

Dean threw his head back in a laugh. "Damn straight it was." He reached forward, unthinkingly ruffling his hand through Cas' hair, pushing it up from where it was flattened and back into its normal somewhat unkempt state.

Cas' eyes never left his. "You have good clothes."

"What?"

"I like your clothes." Cas continued.

"Thank you?" Dean frowned. "Or you're welcome?"

"You look good."

"I look like a drowned rat."

Cas reached up, copying Dean and pushing up Dean's short hair.

Dean caught his hand before Cas could pull it away. He froze, just holding it to the side of his face, feeling everything he had been pushing aside hit him at once, his heart hammering in his chest. "You really do look g-"

Cas bridge the gap, pushing their lips together before he could finish. Dean blinked, eyes widening at the kiss, his thoughts grinding to a halt. He didn't move, entirely caught off guard.

Cas pulled away quickly, expression an even mixture of regret and longing. "I'm sor-"

Dean yanked him back, deciding that thinking could wait until later. Right now was time to just act without a plan. This time he closed his eyes and leaned into it fully. He threw a wet arm over Cas' shoulder, fingers working their way into his sopping wet hair.

Dean pulled away, looking directly in Cas' eyes, forcing himself to quell any panic for the time being and just live in the moment. "You should keep the shorts."

Cas just tilted his head.

Dean coughed slightly, his cheeks flashing a bright red. "The uh… let's…" He cleared his throat, turning the hose nozzle over in his hand, looking back between Cas and the impala. "Let's wash the car."

Cas looked at him carefully, trying to get a read on the hunter. "Dean, are you okay?"

Dean hesitated for a moment before a small smile worked its way onto his face. "Yeah… I am." He walked over to the bench, picking up a soft towel and tossing it to Cas. "Let's get to work."

#spn #fanfic #destiel #ao3 #supernatural #fic

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missmarveledsblog · 1 month

Text

A KIND OF SEX EDUCATION ( PART THREE) ( PLATONIC Cas , winchesters x reader)

SUMMARY : Cas finds onlyfans , all it not what it seems though

warning : its just pure crack and fun

Turns out even as traumatising as the last time of cas curiosities didn’t actually have too bad of out come and as much as she had hated to admit dean was right about them dating . although never in the bunker was it peaceful for too long . turns out bobby was her dad and she learned new thing about her parents no child should ever learn …ever.

Something else was different too every night at 8 pm cas would disappear off into his room even when on hunt he would head off some where always at 8pm , of course they were curious but after last few ordeal with the angel well the curiosity was just not enough to investigate . well until ..

“ i am in love and i think it time i brought her here” he said completely out of the blue .

“ you have a girlfriend good job buddy … don’t show her your internet history though” dean snorted only for y/n to slap him in back of the head.

“ she’s real right?” sam asked needing clarifications after poor guy fell for an A.i bot .

“ she’s very real we talk every night at 8pm .

“ that’s great cas maybe we can go for a double date sometime “ y/n beamed more for the fact it probably the most normal interaction she had with the angel in what felt forever .

“ i shall ask her although she said friends cost extra” he said heading off to his room as they all shared a look.

“ who the hell is spending 500 dollars a night on …” bobby called.

“ you go in i’m not going in , i’m always the one here for this shit” she argued as three stood out his door.

“ oh for fuck sake i’m moving out” she whined.

......

“ you’re nicer though he listens to you and better than him he’ll break his heart” sam reasoned .

“ why aren’t you in the equations” she scoffed.

“ i don’t want to deal with it to be honest” sam huffed.

“ how about we all go talk to him i mean plus lets see what she like she could be nice gal for all we know” dean grinned.

“ do you like having a girlfriend” she glared .

“ point taken you should take this one” he smiled pushing her into the room.

“ another tip from my angel any requests” the voice called as y/n was ready to burst into tears thinking maybe wifi in the bunker was over rated.

“ hey cas i need to erm talk to you it’s urgent” .

“ why are you're eyes covered if its urgent” she could already picture his tilted head and confused face but she was afraid just incase his little saint was out awaiting . “ i got to go my love i will come back tomorrow” he called as silence filled the room god this was going to like shooting bambi’s mother.

“ he’s dressed sweetheart” was all dean voice said echoing down the hall.

“ oh thank fuck , hey buddy can we talk” she asked softly and wishing she was well anywhere else.

“ of course it is urgent” he nodded.

“ jesus how do i go about this?” she sighed rubbing her temples.

“ are you pregnant? I noticed the little weight but i didn’t want to mention it” he looked down at her stomach.

“ getting less hard , no i’m not pregnant may need to go on a diet though… nevermind cas whats your loves name?” she shook her head staying on point albeit less confident then before .

“Angel lady six nine” he beamed proudly .

“ oh you poor sap it’s sixty nine not the the point cas have you talk with her like in person or …” .

“ on only fans gabriel sent me the link said it was a website for meeting exciting women and now i met my love and she makes me so happy … and it make my hands want to do the thing i see ” he smiled .

“ well i’m glad, good chatting buddy” she backed out the room definitely not the one to be dealing with this .

So now here sam was while dean was telling y/n she wasn’t fat. He could do it rip the bandaid off but provide some sort of comfort maybe bring him somewhere to meet real woman that wouldn’t send them to the poor house.

“ hey cas can we talk” he smiled awkwardly seeing the angel eyes locked on screen .

“ of course it seems as everyone wants to do that tonight” he place it down as sam caught a glimpse of the page he was on .

“ your love isn’t well actually love” he cut to the point .

“ why not she tells me all the time” his head tilted like a confused puppy.

“ that’s cause you give her five hundred dollars a night i mean she call you king of the world for that sort of money” .

“ she shows me her things like…” he began to explain.

“ i don’t need to know that .. but she not really in love with you buddy just the money you give her?” sam asked watching his reaction seeing the cogs turn in the mans head.

“ i don’t get it” he finally said.

“ ok… goodnight” sam huffed walking out as dean stormed .

“ hello dean” cas smiled.

“ ok buddy you're dating a prostitute electronically needs to stop or we can’t buy pie so stop wasting the money online great talk buddy” he shut the door as the other two watched him walk off in victory .

“ nothing wrong with earning money like that woman power , just not ours cas” y/n winced at her boyfriends way with words following after.

They sat worried as cas never showed up for breakfast , y/n even checked to see his room empty to which sam said to give him space.

“ jesus your right that was like shooting bambi” sam called heading in the same direction.

......

“ but what if we made him run away” she pouted.

“ he’s literally older than all of us and an angel” dean shrugged.

“ but he’s a baby in a trench coat you say it all time” she pointed out .

“ the kitchen is through here , would you like a drink” the voice called out.

“ oh water is fine” a female voice replied as the two appeared making them not only drop their jaws but whatever was in their face as the woman followed behind.

“ is that…” she whispered.

“ the hook..OWW” Dean yelled as y/n kicked him .

“This my love angel , angel these are my friends who think your a hooker” cas said as sam choked on his drink.

“We don’t think your a hooker” y/n smiled weakly .

“ actually we do onlyfans means one thing … not that i would know i’ve never seen it before” dean corrected himself as his girlfriend glared.

“ you know people do other things on onlyfans not only sexwork right “ angel crossed her arms.

“ come on angel sixty nine” dean scoffed.

“ six point nine my birthday is the 9th of june” she answered.

“ look we don’t slut shame but you make his hands wanna move” sam pointed out .

“ to teach him to draw” she gasped .

“ five hundred dollars to paint really cas” bobby walked in.

“ he doesn’t pay me a dollar” angel pointed out .

“ where our money going then” y/n brow furrow.

“ wait that’s real money i though it was pretend money” jack walked in with his tablet showing them the gambling site he was on .

“Wait so she's not a hooker” dean asked confused. .

“ sorry angel” the called in unison .

" we're getting rid of the wifi i can't be dealing with this shit" y/n called heading out the room .

@pizzagirlxnsfwx hope you enjoy part three :)

#supernatural #castiel x reader #supernatural cas #supernatural funny #supernatural crack #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #bobby singer #sam winchester #crack #funny #supernatural fic #supernatural fandom #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #misha collins

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scoobydoodean · 1 month

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sorry, i'm genuinely confused by your s6 deancas conflict take. i don't think either is the bad guy but i think cas was doing what he could with what he had. i don't think he was in the wrong but i'm curious to know what you think he could've done to be in the right? be honest and upfront? that would jeopardize his mission and put him on the outs with dean. sure, that happened anyway but he did stop raphael

i've also always been confused by dean's "i was here where were you?" because was he though? when they did find out, they punished him and cut him off instead of idk, strategizing with cas. it was a lose/lose situation for cas from the get-go starting with his decision not to involve dean as much as he could help it because cas did care about him. if the issue was working with crowley, cas ended up double-crossing him anyway. if the issue was being dishonest, well, that's nothing new among the winchesters

anyway, i don't have a favorite between deancas because i could never pick but in s6 i very much sympathized with cas so again, i guess i'm curious what you think he could've done differently. i hope this ask doesn't annoy you too much

Let's separate this into two pieces. 1) What I actually said (i.e. the disk horse I was addressing) 2) The utility of Cas's plan to pop Purgatory.

First, what did I say today based partly on a post I made yesterday?

It’s not remotely hard to see that Cas repeatedly uses Dean without his knowledge throughout the season. But you’d think based on how 90% of destiel shippers talk that Cas was waiting on Dean hand and foot while having his own needs ignored by a callous asshole. That’s literally the story people try to tell you while Cas uses Dean for everything from spells to forced labor to a meat shield for Raphael and Virgil while only showing up when Sam and Dean having a lead on an angel weapon is mentioned. They just erase Cas’s problems in order to misrepresent and reduce Dean down to a mean friend who doesn’t deserve him.

I'm wasn't talking about the plan to pop Purgatory and the conflict that happens over it in 6.20 (we can address that in a moment). I'm talking about how a large chunk of destiel fandom erroneously argues that season 6 Dean is a bad friend throughout the entire season who only cared about Cas being useful to him, when Cas is the one who spends the entire season using Dean without his knowledge. You want to have a conversation about something slightly different, which is fine, but don't conflate two common streams of disk horse about separate things. They have some overlap yes—but don't get it twisted.

What could Cas have done differently?

Cas could have asked to use Dean's blood for a spell instead of yanking his wrist over and cutting his palm open for blood without a word, but instead, he did it without asking (and that small act sets the stage for how Cas treats Dean the entire season). Cas could have asked if Sam and Dean would look for leads for him on angelic weapons. He could have asked them if they would look for leads on Purgatory instead of secretly cosigning Crowley coercing them into forced labor capturing alphas. He could have asked them if they would keep Raphael and Virgil off his tail long enough for him and Balthazar to collect their weapons. Instead, Cas used them without their permission or knowledge. All Dean asks in these moments is to be told that Cas needs his help instead of being used without permission.

You seem certain that giving Sam and Dean any information would have "jeopardized his mission"... but how? Setting aside the actual utility of Cas's plan to pop Purgatory for now, Cas actually could have communicated what he needed in every single one of these situations without revealing his plan to pop Purgatory. In fact, that's exactly what he did with Balthazar, isn't it? But again—we're talking about two slightly different things here. EYE was talking about whether or not it's true that Dean was a mean and bad friend who didn't care that Cas needed help and never offered him assistance while Cas moped like a wet cat, back aching from bending over backwards to help Dean with *looks at notes* something. EYE pointed out that Cas absolutely did not fail to make Dean useful to him. He just didn't bother to tell Dean he was doing it. YOU are talking about whether or not the Cas's plan to pop Purgatory was the only viable solution to the Raphael problem and whether Dean should have supported Cas despite everything when the plot was revealed in 6.20. Again—this is a separate (though somewhat interrelated) discourse.

Despite all the crying about Bad Friend Dean, it was Cas who showed through his behavior throughout the season that he would rather treat Dean as a pawn than as a friend. Cas coerces and lies instead of just asking his friend for help. Forgive me if I'm not going to coddle him over it. If you've been in this fandom for a single moment, you know that the fanon fantasy of Dean being a horrible bad mean friend with a angelic guardian waiting on him hand and foot starts long before 6.20 when Dean rejects the finally revealed plan to pop Purgatory, and the whitewashing of Cas's actions and outright denial of Cas using Sam and Dean also starts long before then. So lets not move goal posts. I'm asking people to stop ignoring and misrepresenting every single thing that happened between Dean and Cas leading up to 6.20. I'm asking people to stop assigning all of those things only selective importance (i.e., they're only important when Dean was the "bad friend", but when Cas was, it didn't matter/didn't happen).

Now let's talk about "the plan to pop Purgatory" briefly and the utility of that plan and whether Dean not jumping to help Cas swallow every soul in Purgatory makes him a bad and mean and terrible friend. Multiple people in Cas's life tried to tell him his plans would backfire, and he didn't listen. He ended up starting an apocalypse which was the very thing he was trying to prevent. He just traded out Raphael for the Leviathan and made no meaningful progress toward an actual improvement in terms of "threats to the world as we know it". How exactly did he make anyone better off?

For some reason, some people insist on arguing that while it did backfire spectacularly, it was "the only option" to dispense with Raphael and "there was no other choice", but nobody saying that actually knows that. In fact from a meta/lore perspective, this is just... outright wrong. Archangels have been dealt with in any number of other ways over the course of the show. The Cage. A weird ass egg. The archangel sword. Spellwork. You can invent whatever goddamn lore you want. You cannot reasonably argue it was "the only option" when archangels repeatedly show up and are dispensed with in a variety of ways that aren't "swallowing all the souls in purgatory, going insane, declaring yourself god, and starting a new apocalypse so we're right back where we started".

The only reason "popping Purgatory" is the only plan we get in season 6 is that it's the only plan that Cas allows to be made. He refuses to so much as consider the possibility of anything else because he's so deeply caught in sunk cost fallacy. When Sam and Dean and Bobby finally learn what he's up to and disagree with his plan, Cas breaks Sam' brain to keep them out of his way. When Balthazar disagrees with his plan, Cas murders him.

i've also always been confused by dean's "i was here where were you?" because was he though? when they did find out, they punished him and cut him off instead of idk, strategizing with cas.

...No? It was the other way around.

6.20

Dean tried to get info on what was going on with Cas from 6.03 when he learned about the angelic war onward, and Cas would give vague answers then fly off. In 6.10, Dean asked if there was anything he and Sam could do and Cas said there wasn't. When he found out about Cas working with Crowley, Dean asked to brainstorm a new solution and work as a team and Cas refused to consider this for a single moment. He insisted nothing about his plan was broken despite multiple people warning him, and his own secret-keeping suggested his own conflicted feelings.

#season 6 #mail

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river13245 · 10 months

Text

We are here for you

Navigation / SPN Masterlist

Dean x Reader x Castiel

The sun was starting to set, it was at the perfect height to be directly into your eyes as you drove. You were reaching to pull the sun visor down so it would block at least some of the glare as your phone began to ring.

There were only a select few people who called you. Other people texted because they know you don't like talking on the phone unless it was an emergency. So once the visor was down you picked up your phone to see it was Castiel.

When you answer you put it on speaker and place your phone on your lap as you continued to drive. "Hey angel" the nickname you had for him rolled off your tongue easily and you knew that there would be a soft smile on his face. "hi y/n"

He wasn't one for nicknames really and that was okay. However that wasn't the thing that had you nervous is was the fact that after he had spoke your name a sigh escaped him. "Castiel what's wrong?" he never called you if there was something wrong. He would just appear so the fact that he hasn't yet really has you worried.

"its Dean" his words were forced out as if he was becoming frustrated with something. You knew that Dean wasn't doing to well with the passing of his mom, and the whole Jack situation.

That's actually why you were out running around trying to find any way to get his mom back but also to find any trace of Jack. There hadn't been and you knew they were not going to be happy with how there was no progress being made. "What's going on with him. Is he okay?"

Rustling was heard and a incoherent grumble was heard before you heard Cas telling someone to stay out the fridge. A few moments later Cas spoke into the phone again. "I cant help him this time. He needs you, we need you to come back to the bunker. He's drunk and no one can get him to calm down"

As you rest your head against the seat you sigh. You weren't angry or anything you just had to figure out how you would approach Dean to get him to calm down. "alright ill be there as soon as I can. I love you"

Before he hung up a soft "we love you too" was heard before the beeping sound. Tossing your phone to the passenger seat you pressed on the gas. You were known for always being a safe driver usually but on cases and when people needed you, all caution was thrown to the wind.

When you pull up the bunker you park beside baby and walk inside. The sight inside breaks your heart, Dean is standing with what looks like to be his fourth beer in his hand as he argues with Sam and Cas both. Cas is trying to be gentle with him but you can tell they had just got done arguing because of the tension through the room.

Sam is the first to notice you and he gives you a look that's like "save me". You point to tell him that its okay to leave and so he does but not before kissing the top of your head in a friendly way.

Now it leaves the three of you in the room. You walk up beside Castiel and look at Dean. "Dean can you please put the bottle down?" your voice was soft not wanting to come off as demanding or anything to tip him off but you should have known that wasn't going to work. Instead he lashes out. "of course you come as backup. I'm fine its my fourth beer I don't need you here. Neither does Cas"

The words he spoke were intended to hurt you and it works. He doesn't usually say hurtful things like that towards you its usually your own insecurities and other people that do. But you choose to not feel it at the moment instead you look at him and tell Cas that he can leave. He places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes it letting you know that whatever Dean says isn't true before leaving.

Dean is taking another drink of his beer and you take it from his hands and toss it in the trash. This earns a incoherent mumble of words and you just shake your head. "come on dean you stink of sweat, dirt and alcohol. Lets get you cleaned up we could both use a shower"

As you spoke you were running your hand up and down his arm gently and it seemed to calm him down as he leaned into you. "never seemed to bother you before" This earns him a light slap on his arm as you begin to walk the both of you to the shower.

Closing the door you see him taking off his clothes and then you go over and start the water making sure its a nice temperature for you both. Then you take off your clothes and hold his hands as you walk under the water.

Making sure that he was the one under the water first you run your hands through his hair and then hold his face in your hands. "Dean Love." He looks down at you but doesn't respond "Me and Castiel love you. and so does your brother. Hell there are a lot of people who love you. You aren't alone in this. I promise"

He pulls you into a kiss and its sloppy but you both keep it short because tonight is not the night. "alright now clean yourself up. Ill wash your hair"

When you grab the shampoo he begins to wash off his body. You watch as the dirt washes off him and goes down the drain and then you begin to wash his hair. This results to him resting his head against your chest. Its the reason you choose to wash his hair at times like this.

Your hands run through his hair and scratch gently at his scalp. The whole time you do this he is resting against you. Only pulling away to rinse his hair out and then you do your own routine before the both of you get out and into your pajamas.

Dean had only put on a pair of sweatpants while you put on sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt that was Castiel's. Dean was the first in bed and you got in beside him. When you both get comfortable you grab the remote and turn on scooby doo. This causes Dean to laugh a bit and he watches it.

You knew that Dean would be apologizing tomorrow for how he acted because its something he has been working on is apologizing for when he says or does things that are hurtful to people he loves. So tonight you push it to the side.

Hours later Castiel comes back to the bunker and sees the both of you asleep. He had been out looking for anything that would help us all so it was nice to see the two people he loves most asleep without any worries.

He walks over to the bed and covers the both of you up and kisses you and deans forehead. When he does this he uses some of his power to enter your dreams so he could make sure they were good ones before he walks off after saying "I love you both"

#polyamory #dean winchester x male reader #dean winchester x reader #castiel x male reader #castiel x reader #castiel x dean #dean x castiel #dean x castiel x reader #new blog #supernatural #angst #fluff #river13245 #sam winchester

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1989butcher · 10 months

Text

Apple Pie

dean winchester x reader

you try all day to bake a pie for dean

wc: 1.3k, complete and utter fluff

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you slid another pie crust into the oven. After shutting the oven door with your elbow, you turned to find Cas in the doorway. “Please, don’t make me try any more. I cannot taste it, Y/N.” you half-laugh and sigh. “I’m sorry. Honestly, if this one doesn’t turn out good, I am just going to toss everything and pretend it never happened.” Castiel looked at you, a confused look plastered on his face.

“Why would you throw it all away?” He asks, making his way towards the counter, his eyes going over the mess of cooking ingredients and cookware all over the place. His eyes make his way to you, your apron covered in flour, hair all tousled and falling out of the bun it was put in hours ago. You had clearly exerted loads of effort.

You begin to run the sink, bringing over some spoons and dishes that were covered in various flavors. “I don’t know, it’s embarrassing I guess. Like, how am I unable to bake a pie?” Cas almost cuts you off, “You’ve baked five pies, I think.” You shake your head, turning to him.

“I’ve tried to bake about five pies. And not one of them was good enough. I’m not asking for your pity, I’m just, saying I guess.” you reply wryly. He shrugs, now assisting you with cleaning the dishes. The two of you cleaned in silence, since he wasn’t sure how to comfort you or even wanted to be comforted.

He eventually excused himself to the war room to continue a case he had been working on, leaving you to stare at the pie, watching it slowly bake in the oven. You had placed a chair in front of the oven, just staring into the void, basking in your embarrassment and failure. Then, you began beating yourself up for being upset over not being able to bake. It was a vicious cycle.

Only to be broken by a warm laugh. “Now, now, now, what do we have here!” Dean exclaimed. He just about floated down the stairs and into the kitchen. Although those first few pies didn’t exactly taste good, they still smelled it. You blinked hard and turned around to see him. His hair is a bit flat, wearing a worn green flannel with a pair of blue jeans. But the largest smile was plastered across his face.

Dean’s arms were outstretched for you to fall into, pulling you into a deep hug. His hand instinctively went to the back of your head to cradle, kissing your forehead as you hummed. He breathed in your hair, to find it speckled with flour and something sticky. But you smelled good.

You smelled like pie.

He licked his lips and pulled you out of the hug, you whining a bit in retort. You look up to him with your doe eyes, his weakness. Dean gave a smug smile before pulling you in for a quick kiss. Your lips tasted of apple with a hint of cinnamon, making his heart soar.

Dean pulled back from the kiss, his hands on your shoulders. He gave them a slight squeeze, trying to come up with something clever to say. “Oh, please, Winchester. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

He shook his head, laughing a bit and sliding his hands down your arms. The warm taste of apple from your lips still lingered. “You gonna tell me about this?” He nods his head to the rest of the room. The sink was filled with dishes, although cleaned. But the counter was still covered in crusts and apples, and tons of flour.

You felt your cheeks flushed red and your gaze hit the floor and his boots. You shook your head, laughing a bit. “No way.” your voice is light, trying to hide your frustration. The last thing you wanted was for him to walk in the door to this mess, not even knowing if what you were attempting to make was good enough.

Dean’s smile dropped a bit, his finger lifting your chin to meet his gaze again. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s not like you burned the place down.” his joke struck a nerve with you. He was an excellent cook, and all you wanted to do was repay the favor. He takes your hand as you walk over to the counter, covered in the mess.

“Ta da!” You exclaim sarcastically. Dean doesn’t look away from you, knowing you are seconds away from spilling out your guts. “Y/N-” he starts. “I’ve tried all day to bake one pie. One god damn pie. I have gone to the store twice today Dean. Twice! Are you aware we live in a small town? There’s like a couple hundred people so when you go to the store twice and buy the same things, the cashier is going to notice. Even better that it was the same person.

You would think as an adult, I would be able to bake a single apple pie for my boyfriend. But no. I can make rock hard crust,” you pick up and toss one of the burnt crusts on the counter down. “And mediocre filling. I honestly don’t think there’s enough apples in the world for me to be able to get this recipe right.”

As your rant continued, Dean looked at you with nothing but love. He had no idea he could feel this way. He loved you for trying so hard. You didn’t have to bake a pie. Honestly, you still have a pulse and wanting to be within 10 feet of him was enough. As you went on about your day and all your baking attempts, it made him realize how much you loved him.

And the word boyfriend rang through his ears. The two of you never defined anything. Sleeping together for years, living together, you had even convinced him to go on a weekend trip for fun once. But to his face, you had never called him your boyfriend. All those nights spent in each other’s arms, yet afraid to label anything to make the other run away.

But there you stood, what you would call a complete mess but he thinks you are prettiest this way.

Whatever you were saying at this point, something about the oven being your enemy, was in one ear and out the other. Dean pulled you in for a deep kiss, both hands on either side of your face, stopping you mid-sentence.

“I love you.” he said, breaking the kiss. You pulled back just enough to look into his green eyes, that somehow had a little more sparkle to them since you saw him this morning. “I love you, too.” you smiled, rubbing your thumb on his cheek. Staring into each other’s eyes, the words “my girl” slipped Dean’s lips. Heat rose in your chest as you pulled him in again, this time his tongue slipping in your mouth.

Right on time, the oven dings. The pie is done, and so is the moment. You slide out of his grasp and sigh. “Don’t get your hopes too high.” He watched you take the pie out, some apple oozing from the crust. The smell alone sent him over the edge.

“I can’t believe you went through all this trouble for me.” he said quietly, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear. You raise an eyebrow. “Dean, I’ve pretty much died for you, yet this is something you can’t believe.”

It was the mundaneness of it all. The normalcy. He felt there was no room in his life for it. That he didn’t deserve it no matter how badly he longed for it. He shrugged it off, not quite ready to dive into that. But more ready to dive into what laid in front of him.

“This one actually looks edible!” you sigh in relief, inspecting the pie closer. Dean scoots behind you, placing his hands on your hips.

“I’ll tell you what else looks edible.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x yn #dean x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fluff #jensen ackles

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wellofdean · 2 months

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Fellas, this quote from Jensen over the weekend... I LIVE!

"There's few people that, when the cameras are rolling, you get to truly create moments that aren't on the page, and it's hard sometimes to find rhythm and cohesiveness with everybody you work with, and when you find the rare person that can...play at a level that makes you want to be better, it's almost like a high, that when the creative juices are flowing, and you are making moments that you maybe didn't even plan to be there, "happy accidents" we used to call 'em, of emotion, or between the lines nuance moments, and I think there's a reason that the story of Cas and Dean skewed to where it was, because I kept being able to have that creative ignition with Mish, when those cameras were rolling that made me a better actor, and made me want to find that even more."

First, what I nice thing to say about Misha! It must be super embarrassing to sit next to a guy who is just singing your praises like a bird all the time.

Second, I know there are those in the fandom who will sieze on the word "accident" and think yeah, it was all just Jensen things, he wants to sit in Misha's lap and twirl his hair, and like...ok, maybe! But, what interests me here is his use of the word 'cohesiveness' and the end, where he is saying that those moments arose because playing opposite Misha made him better at acting, and better at finding nuance and communicating what was not on the page.

I've been thinking a lot about the cohesiveness Supernatural has despite all the writers room/showrunner turnover, because in some ways, particularly character ways, it is REALLY cohesive, and I think a lot of that is down to the actors, and A LOT of what is down to the actors is Jensen, because he is clearly very invested in Dean, and cares a lot about getting Dean right. I mean, he played this complicated, fascinating guy on this silly genre show with his whole heart for 15 years, which is AMAZING and humble and beautiful of him, if you ask me. And I think a lot about how he made Dean so cohesive.

Making a TV show or a film is not just playing out the scenes in order -- it's stopping, resetting, starting again, waiting around, starting, reshooting, etc. And, it really isn't just straightforwardly an emotional journey. I think people really underestimate the professionalism involved, and how fucking great at it Jensen is. What this quote tells me is that moments between Cas and Dean were cathected and emotional in ways he couldn't have predicted, but he KNEW what he was playing, what he was trying for, and that Misha, as an actor, helped him find what he needed to convey in ways he didn't expect and which were a little bit of creative magic. Cas and Dean's story went the way it did because Misha helped him be better at finding nuance and emotion in Dean that wasn't in the words he was there to say, but WAS in Dean.

Guys, I love. Jensen is so not a dumbass. He is so thoughtful in commenting on Dean and I am HERE FOR IT. I have so many questions! Like, I have never been to a con, and kind of feel like it would be embarrassing? But, I have so many questions.

#Jensen Ackles #Acting #dean winchester #spn #misha collins

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angelsdean · 4 months

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I know it's a bitter pill to swallow in this fandom for many reasons but, the phrase "open to interpretation" IS inherently a positive phrase that good creators use to affirm to their audiences that stories and art belong to the fans, and that every fan is able to find their own meaning through their own interpretive lens. It's not up to creators or actors to tell people what something--especially ambiguous or subtextual moments--mean. Everyone will come to a different understanding, some views might be more supported by canon than others, but it's still within every viewer's right to see things how they see them.

All "open to interpretation" means is: you get to interpret it! And you! And you! This is a key tenant of any creative work. It can be interpreted. And that is what literary analysis is all about. You build a case for your interpretation. You go into the text and find supporting evidence for your view, your thesis. And some interpretations are argued better than others. But everyone's still allowed to have their interpretation. (Also, literary analysis is fun).

I say all this because I've seen posts about Jensen going from "open to interpretation" to "clear text" as if he's now against the fact that things can and will be interpreted by fans. In terms of Cas's declaration of love? Yes, that is "clear text." It's romantic in nature, that's not up for debate, and Dean processed and understood it as romantic on the dungeon floor. But for stuff that is still ambiguous, still subtextual in some ways, like Dean's own feelings? Those are still open to interpretation by all sides, whether we like it or not. Until we get to see more of Dean and Cas's story in the basically guaranteed reboot, Jensen is not going to speculate about Dean's feelings or Destiel's reunion. He's never going to word-of-god confirm anything about this on stage at a convention. We have to wait to see it play out on screen.

As an actor, it's also not his place to confirm or deny these things. He leaves it up to the fans to read into his performance whatever they want. And yes, that sentiment IS affirming to a Destiel interpretation. We can read reciprocation into his performance. We can read romantic love into his words about Dean wishing he'd said "I love you back." We can look back on the years of queercoding and subtext and Jacting Joices and read Dean as being in love with Cas for years. And, well, the other side can read what they want into it, and we don't need to care what they think, tbqh.

This, IMO, is also part of the reason Jensen tends to give "vague" answers or use language that can be perceived in different ways by either side. As an actor, at a fan convention where fans of all sides of the fandom have paid to be there to have a good time, it's not his job to personally validate specific headcanons and interpretations. Jensen may have his own personal beliefs about Dean's feelings, but he's not going to divulge them in full if they close off one side's interpretation. So he will weave his way through answers. He will use terms like "brother in arms" which one side will hear as simply "brother" and think "platonic" and Destiel shippers will hear as the full meaning, a strong bond between men, and see the queer history associated with these warrior bonds.

He does this, IMO, to keep all lanes open for every fan, because first and foremost he's an actor at a convention being paid to entertain. He's also not a writer, he's not someone who can definitively say what was intended. Personally, I feel that his metaphor about being in an art gallery that he gave back in 2020 is incredibly apt. People come to the gallery and look at the art and find their own meaning. And the artist isn't standing there beside them confirming or denying their interpretations. That's not the artist's job. Once it's out there, it's for others to find meaning in what the artist made.

And again, it's not his place to speculate or write fanfiction for anyone on stage and personally confirm or deny headcanons. He's pretty adamant about the reboot, so I think for some things we'll just have to wait and see.

#if the man says something is open to interpretation again one day i don't want to see ppl screaming and crying that he's 'walking back'#like no nope! all art is inherently open to interpretation. he's right abt that.#this fandom's personal baggage with that phrase doesn't make it less true #it's a neutral to positive phrase that affirms that fans get to find their own personal meaning in a story or work of art. that's it.#things that have been made textual and defined. such as cas's romantic declaration. those are not up for debate #but other aspects of canon are. whether you like it or not. and personally i love a thesis. i love analysis. so i have fun with it!#vic.txt #fandom vs media literacy #jensen and destiel #long post

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tidbit-fanfic · 2 months

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A/N: WOW did this take forever. Did you think I’d honestly leave Forever & Always as it was? Here’s your fix-it-fic, part two to Forever & Always, but of course you don’t have to read this if you don’t want to fix things. That’s fine.

TW: 18+ Smut, protected sex (wrap your willy silly), car sex, blood, cannon level violence, angsty angst, the l-word, Micheal, mention of castration, spanking, makeup/angry sex?, fluffy fluff

No one ever said breakups were easy. Months passed before I could even look Dean in the eye again, and more passed until we returned to how we were before the relationship had ever happened. We formed a close bond and worked together on case after case. I accompanied Castiel and Kelly when the Winchesters were arrested, and I became a major support during Kelly’s pregnancy, within the limits set by Cas. When they busted out to raise more hell? I was there to help clean up after them.

Things became rocky when Dean began lashing out towards Jack. I slammed my fist into his jaw one time. I don’t regret it, and I don’t think I ever will. He left in a huff after, ignoring me, as Sam and I tried to make sense of everything. A whirlwind of catastrophic events later, Dean stepped forward, doing the one thing he promised he never would: let Micheal in.

“Anyone find anything?”

“Sam, we’ve been searching for weeks, and every time you ask that question, what’s the answer?”

The younger Winchester pushes his hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving his lungs. “Just hoping for something.”

“I know. You miss him, but we’re working overtime to scrounge up anything on him. Have you even slept in the past twenty-four hours?” I stand from the rickety chair I’d been sitting in for the past hour, looking into Sam’s eyes. His face quickly switched to one of guilt, a shy, school-boyish look taking over his features. My hands found their place on my hips, taking on a motherly stance. “Go. Sleep. Now.”

“But—”

“Now, Samuel.” He runs off to his room to get some sleep, hopefully. I turn back to my small team of five people. They all shake their heads, a couple returning their eyes to the screen sitting before them. With no sign of Dean, Sam and Mary have become overly stressed, constantly checking in on any form of a lead. Meanwhile, Jack and Cas are out doing their own little thing, leaving me to manage this small team, checking sources daily. Micheal must be covering his tracks extremely well because our facial scanners have reported back nothing about Dean, or any unnatural glitching.

I walk my way into the kitchen, searching for a distraction. These past few weeks, I organized and reorganized the kitchen at least three times. It’s become my solitude after losing Dean yet again. I pulled out some ingredients and began cooking dinner for everyone in the bunker, hoping that by keeping my hands busy, I could distract my mind.

“So, you’re going to follow this lead alone?” I cross my arms, narrowed eyes sizing up the Winchester standing in front of me, resulting in Sam shaking his head.

“I’m meeting up with mom and Bobby on the way.”

“Fine,” I say, pushing off of the table, watching as he goes to turn. “And Sam?”

“Yes?”

“Bring him back.”

Sam looks at me, a hint of remorse playing in his eyes. He goes to open his mouth before I wave him off, making my way to Jack’s room. I raise my hand and knock, waiting for Jack’s response. The door creaks as I open it, revealing the young male who has been living with us for some time.

“Hey, buddy. How’s it going?”

“I mean, better now. Cas is finally beginning to see that I can help on hunts.”

I nod, sitting at the foot of his bed. “Did Sam tell you…”

“He did.”

“Oh,” I state, racking my brain for ways to keep the conversation flowing when the blonde pipes up.

“You still care for him. Don’t you?”

My eyes snap up to Jack’s. “Jack. It’s difficult.”

“It’s not though. You should tell him when he’s back.”

“I can’t do that, he’s…it's…complicated.”

The male tilts his head, eyes searching my face for an explanation. I sigh, “I, well, he was the one who messed up, and I just took it. I accepted he didn’t like me enough to work through it. Then I fell apart, Jack, and I can’t live through that again.”

“Is that truly how you feel?”

“There is no other way. We can’t, he can’t change what he did. I can’t forgive him for making me a second choice.”

Jack reached forward, resting a hand on mine, the other to wipe away the tears that fell. “But you still love him.”

“Yes,” I whisper. “But I can’t have him.”

“Y/N, I know I may not have been on this earth for long, but I’ve seen enough to say this: if you love him, give Dean a second chance. You never know how things might go this time around.”

I stand, wiping my face. “No Jack, I can’t”

I leave his room, returning to the main part of the bunker, not before grabbing a glass of alcohol to numb the pain. I join the research team in the library, sitting in one of the few comfy chairs while Jack’s words echo through my head. “Give him a second chance. You never know how things might go this time around.”

Heavy footsteps resonate through the bunker, Cas re-entering from Jack’s room, a look of shock crossing his features. “Dean?”

I watch as Cas wraps Dean into a hug, setting my glass on a nearby table as Dean’s voice rings out. “Hey, Cas.”

One of the few extra hunters walks up to Sam, running him through the information we collected since his departure. Meanwhile, Dean looks around at all the new bodies occupying the bunker. I turn my head away, beginning to make my way towards my room to avoid interaction with him, but it seems as if fate has other plans, with one of my subordinates stepping into my field of vision. “Cap? We have a couple of updates on that nest you asked about?”

“Show me what you have.” I look down at the tablet, littered with pins displaying the nest’s pattern of migration. I listen as they explain the situation, ignoring the presence creeping in from behind me.

“Okay, send out a small group, maybe five? Check in with Sam to get it approved and run a couple of facial scans to ensure that they are where you’re predicting. Good work.”

“On it Captain.”

“Captain? That’s an interesting nickname.” Jumping at the rough voice, I turn to meet a pair of forest green eyes I used to call home. I look him up and down, taking in the state of him, and maybe, just maybe, appreciating the archangel’s fashion taste, paired with Dean’s attempt at making it comfortable. As I meet his eyes, I can't help but force a smile, refusing to reveal my emotions.

“Dean! It’s so great to see you in one piece. Sam had us searching everywhere for you.”

“Sam did? It wasn’t you?”

“He was driving himself sick.”

He nods, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “Look, Y/N, I know we—”

“Captain?” Another voice cuts through his sentence, and I turn to see Charlie holding out a tablet, nodding to Dean before redirecting her attention to me.

“The reports you wanted just came back. Our predictions were right. Ketch’s team is nearby, just a couple of miles down the way. We’re sending them the info on the nest right now.”

“Thank you, Charlie. And it’s really great to see you back, Dean. Especially in one piece.” I turn, heading back to my room, this time without interruptions. I close the door behind me, sliding down against it before rubbing my temples. Breakups aren’t easy, and living in the same space as your ex just makes it worse.

The next morning, I’m up before everyone else, starting coffee and breakfast for the bunker. A sweaty Sam enters the kitchen, grabs a glass of water, and then presumably leaves to take a shower before the hustle of the bunker begins. I relax into the routine I’ve put myself into since Dean left, mundane tasks I easily get lost in. Breakfast is finished before I return to my room, a notification lighting up my phone’s screen from Sam. I flip my phone over, opting for a couple more hours of sleep before dealing with him.

The sound of knocking wakes me up, as my door moves slightly with the action. I open it, coming face-to-face with Sam. Taking a step back, I rush to smooth down my hair while Sam lets out a low whistle. “And I thought my bedhead was bad.”

I throw a middle finger at him, glaring as he chuckles. “What do you want?”

“Just got a case in.” He walks in, taking a seat at my desk, opening his laptop to reveal a newspaper article. Man Reported Missing By Girlfriend: Claims A Giant Woman-Bird Took Him.

“Are we sure she’s not just crazy?”

“Yes, multiple police reports of missing men in the area have a claim of ‘giant woman-birds’ taking them. Seems like an us problem.”

I look over his shoulder at the reports, showing drawn portraits of the attackers. “Jesus, those look like harpies. Tricky little buggers, but should be a ‌simple case. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready.”

“Good, see you then.”

Ten minutes later, I cross the threshold to the garage, eyes scanning it for the younger Winchester. The passenger side window of the Impala rolls down, revealing Dean, sitting in the driver’s seat. “C’mon, we don’t have all day. If Sam’s right about the feeding patterns, they’re gonna strike again tonight.”

I look over my shoulder to the door of the garage. “Speaking of Sam, where is he? I thought it was just going to be us on this hunt?”

“Nope. Just me and you, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” I open the door, tossing my bag into the backseat before climbing in, staying as far away from Dean as possible. He grumbles something under his breath, throwing Baby into drive and leaving the bunker. This was going to be a long hunt.

Blood hit my face as my knife sliced through a harpy’s wing. The creature let out a screech before turning to me, its teeth elongating as it prepared to attack. I raised an arm to push back when a gunshot rang through the air. She fell to the ground, revealing a blood-covered Dean standing behind her. I dropped my arm, huffing and kicking at the dead body of the woman. We had destroyed the nest,and all the harpies within it, leaving only one last step before we could head to a hotel and get cleaned up. I looked at Dean, whose eyes remained locked on me with worry. “You ready to burn these bitches?”

A smirk broke out on his face. “You know it.”

I giggled beneath my breath, grabbing a container of gasoline before returning to the building. I poured it on top of the bodies, as well as the makeshift nests, before returning to Baby. Dean pulled a zippo from his pocket, striking it before throwing it into the door. We both leaned back onto the vehicle, watching as the building went up in flames, the adrenaline slowly beginning to leave our systems.

I turn, looking at the man beside me. While checking him over for any wounds, noticing his shoulder bleeding. Claw marks from where the harpy attempted to take him. I reach out, pulling the torn fabric from the wound for a closer look. “Crap, Dean, this looks like it hurts.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” He shrugs, tensing as my hands work over his wound. “First aid is in the backseat.”

I nod, going to get it, ready to be done with the hunt. “Alcohol incoming.”

After I ensure he won't get an infection, I thread a fishing line into place, starting the first stitch, causing a hiss to rip from his mouth. Stitch after stitch, I tend to the injury, patching over it with some hydrocolloid bandages before stepping back.

My eyes flutter open, revealing unfamiliar scenery. Dean looks up from his phone. “All good. Just taking a pit stop. Showers are over there.”

“I thought we were going to a motel?” I rub my eyes, reaching over the seat for my bag.

“I thought it’d be pretty stupid, considering we’re only five hours from home. I was just gonna clean up and nap a bit before finishing the drive.”

I nod leaving the Impala and making my way to the shower building, clutching my pocket knife in my right hand as a safety precaution. I knew Dean had parked in an area where he could see the entrance, but it never hurt to be a little extra cautious. I entered the station, locking myself into one stall and starting the shower. Peeling my crusty clothes from off, I rinsed them in the water, hoping to remove some of the blood. I climbed into the shower, scrubbing away the gore painted on my body. My mind wandered to our situation.

I had slept in the Impala with Dean many times, mostly when the motel was out of vacancies, leaving us to find a station similar to this. Sam would stretch out in the backseat while I cuddled up to Dean, safe in his arms. Back when I trusted him with my life. Now, I can’t trust him as far as I could throw him. ‘Give him a second chance.’ If only it were that easy.

I return to the Impala, devoid of monster blood. Dean’s head was lolled back, resting against the seat. I knocked on the window before opening my door, ensuring he wouldn’t shoot me. He opened his eyes, a strained smile covering his features when he saw me. I climbed in and curled up against the door, hoping to catch a little more sleep. Minutes passed before his deep timbre echoed through the car. “I know you’re still up.”

“Not the point Dean. I’m trying to sleep, what you should be doing.”

“I can’t.”

I opened my eyes, turning to him. “Why not?”

“It’s,” he swallowed. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“No, it’s not nothing. What’s wrong?”

He scrubbed his hand down his face, looking out his window. “Micheal fucked with my head.”

“I thought you couldn’t remember anything?”

“I lied somewhat. He was awful Y/N. Showing me the things he would do if I didn’t obey. I—I can’t get the images out of my head.” His voice became tight with emotion.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. He’s gone now.”

“That’s not the point. Micheal threatened Sam, mom, Cas, Jack, but the worst? He threatened you. God, Y/N, if you saw half of what he was going to do to you, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me.”

“Dean. He’s gone. We’ll find him, kill him and you’ll be fine.”

“Damn it Y/N, you don’t get it do you?”

“I don’t get what?”

“I love you! That’s why he threatened you.” I look into his forest-green eyes, studying the pain and anguish hidden behind them.

“You don’t get to say that.”

“And why not?”

I rest my back against the door, as far from him as possible. “You dumped me, remember? For a one-month-old? Not to mention how much of an asshole you were during the whole Amara situation.”

“I’m—”

“No Dean. You hurt me. You showed me just how little you care about me. You wouldn’t have even thought about her twice if you actually loved me. When Micheal convinced you to say yes, and you disappeared, I knew there was no fixing this. One day you're gonna find someone else and leave me just like you did the first time. I can’t go through that again. It would kill me.” I look at him, tears threatening to break through. “I love you. But I can’t do this to myself again”

“I won’t do it again, baby. Forever & al—”

“No!” My sob catches in my throat as I hug myself. “Forever doesn’t exist. Always means occasionally to you Dean.”

“Baby—”

“Stop.” I close my eyes, the pain slowly turning into anger. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Silence envelopes the space between us, leaving an awkward feeling between us.

A sigh echoes from him, his hand running through his hair. “I know I fucked up. The Mark made me an absolute asshole, and I knew you deserved better. I tried real hard to bottle up those emotions I had for Amara, knowing they were only because of some weird mark-magic shit. After the whole demon ordeal, I knew you deserved better, so I quit trying. I had to hurt you to get you to leave me. I couldn’t run the risk of hurting you again.”

“Dean, that's not your discussion to make.”

“Isn’t it? I’m the one who was going to hurt you. It was me who took the Mark.”

“You don’t think I would’ve done the same to save the world? You’re really fucking dense if you can’t see I would’ve done the exact same thing. The only difference between you and me? I wouldn't have pushed you away for some random creature. Especially a baby!”

“Damnit Y/N. You don’t get it.”

“Then help me understand.”

His eyes flicker from mine to my lips. “I love you so goddamn much, that hurting you would be hell all over again. And this time, not even Chuck could pull me out.”

My breath caught in my chest. “You don’t mean that.”

“Evey fucking word.”

I look out the window, mulling over his words. “Dean. I—”

“Fuck it.” Dean undoes his seatbelt, grabbing my jaw and forcing his lips to mine. Gasping, I open for his tongue, our saliva mixing into an intoxicating elixir. I throw my arms over his shoulders, pulling on the hairs at the nape of his neck. He pulls back exposing his neck, as I kiss along his jawline. I nip and suck beautiful bruises into his skin, pulling at the neckline of his shirt to reveal more of his skin. His hands go to grip my ass, pulling me over to straddle him. I lean back, making contact with his lust-darkened eyes and swollen lips. My hips grind down, a familiar ache developing in my lower stomach. Dean bites his lip, watching my hips as I rock against the zipper of his jeans, his erection pulling the fabric taut. I bring my lips to his again, small pecks while his hand rests around my throat,wringing a whine from me. “Princess, get your ass to the backseat now.”

I climbed into the back of the Impala, Dean following right on my tail, grinding his clothed cock against my ass as the door shut behind us. I went to turn around, stopped only by the sting of his hand meeting the meat of my ass. “Nuh uh, pretty girl, hands and knees.”

“Asshole.” A crack rings through the air, his hand meeting my butt once again.

“What was that again? Couldn't hear it over your bratty attitude.”

I lean my head on my arms, biting my lip to keep from saying anything else. Dean played with the waistband of my leggings, pulling the band just to let it snap against my skin. I push back into him, needing him urgently. Finally, he pulls my leggings and panties down, leaving them tangled up in my knees. Hands trace up my thighs, thumbs spreading my lower lips apart. “Jesus. Why’d I give this up? Such a pretty pussy, just begging for attention”

“Don’t tease.”

“‘M not baby, just enjoying the view.” He trails his fingers through my folds, fingertips catching on my clit with each drag. Returning to my entrance, he slips his ring finger into me, curling it upward before he adds another. Suddenly, he pulls away, the sounds of his belt being undone sending a rush of anticipation through me. Dean slides his cock along my cunt, coating himself in the wetness fund there. “Wait, wait.”

“What’s wrong?” He leans back, removing his hands from my body.

“Condom?”

“Right, right, shit.” Dean climbs over the seat, popping open the glove box to get the needed protection. His jeans and boxers sit on his thighs, cock bobbing as he rolls the condom over it. “Good?”

“Good. Now get in here, cowboy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He breaches my entrance, pushing into my heat, causing a whimper to leave my lips, shaped into his name. The cool metal of his belt buckle presses against the back of my thigh when he bottoms out, his groan vibrating against my back. “Dean, move.”

He tucks his head into my shoulder, a deep groan releasing from his chest. “Sweetheart, if I move, I’m gonna cum like a goddamn pre-teen. Give me a second.”

Rocking my hips back onto him, I earn myself another breathy moan. “Please, Dean?”

“Shit. You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.” He pulls back, my pussy encouraging him to return home. His hips snap to mine, balls tapping at my clit. I arch my back, panting as I meet each of his thrusts. He sits back, hands finding their place on my hips, dragging me back. “Look at you, such a perfect slut for me, aren’t ya? All for me.”

I moan as his hips speed up, the tip hitting the spongy spot inside me. Dean lands another slap on my ass, leaning forward to kiss the place under my ear. “You’re dripping, soaking my cock so well. And you said you didn’t miss this.”

He grinds into me, the icy feeling of the buckle pressing deep into the heat of my thigh. Baby’s windows fog up, our breaths intertwining in ecstasy as he speeds up, going harder, faster, deeper. Dean’s hand slides up my back, knotting into my hair, pulling me up to my knees, without slowing down. “God baby, your pussy is the closest thing to heaven I’ve ever felt. Fuck. Such a good girl for, shit, for me.”

I clench around his cock, my orgasm within reach. “Dean, I, I need—”

“I know, princess, I know.” His other hand wraps around the front of my waist, slipping between my folds as he finds my clit, circling it with the right amount of pressure. My head falls onto his shoulder, shameless moans exchanged between us as my climax comes closer and closer. “Dean.”

“C’mon babydoll, cum fr’me.” With that, I reach the heavens, Dean following close behind with a couple of thrusts before he spills into the condom. We lay there, breaths intermingling as he tucks his head into my neck again, pressing soft kisses to the skin there. I pull him away, looking into those enchanting green eyes of his.

“Fuck you, Dean Winchester.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to my lips. “You just did, sweetheart.”

After cleaning up, again, I curl up on his chest in the back seat, satisfied and secure, as Dean traces patterns along my back, his breath evening out.

“Dean.” He hums. “I meant what I said earlier. I truly love you.”

“I love you too sweet—”

“But if you break my heart this time, I will cut off your dick.”

“Fair. Now can you go to sleep? I fuckin’ exhausted.”

I giggle at his wording, snuggling into his chest again. Breakups are hard, but when you’re hopelessly in love, it’s hard to remember the pain. Unfortunately, I fell in love with Dean Winchester, and by fate’s design, he fell in love with me.