Summary: Dean’s upset when a Cupid marks him with an arrow but not his soulmate, or so he thinks. As he struggles to come to terms, he calls her everything other than her actual name, though maybe that’s just a part of getting struck by true love.
Warnings: language, name calling, kissing, implied smut (established friends with benefits relationship), fluff
A/N: Something silly just for fun. Enjoy… and Happy Valentine’s Day Written for @howbadcanitbebingo.
_____
“Stupid, Cupid.” Said Dean, walking into the motel room, stripping off his soaked jacket and throwing it onto the chair.
“What are you muttering over there, sourpuss?” You asked, pulling off your wet clothes since you guys had gotten caught in the rain chasing down the monster of the week.
Which turned out not to be the cupid you ran into, who of course Dean just had to go and make friends with. He wasn’t a fan and he made sure to tell you that every two minutes on the ride to the motel.
There wasn’t much privacy in the room to begin with and since the two of you had a sort of friends with benefits thing going on for a while now, you didn’t care to cover up. You’d certainly seen it all and so had Dean.
“Nothing, sweetheart.” He brushed you off, muttering under his breath, “…dumb, giant baby.”
With Valentine’s day fast approaching, Sam took some time off to go who knows where, doing who knows what with Eileen. Leaving you to deal with one very grumpy Dean. He’d been in a mood since the start of the case and there’d been nothing you could do to snap him out of it. And you tried everything, until you’d finally had enough of his attitude.
“That’s it! What is wrong with you, De?” You snapped, tossing your wet shirt at him, leaving you in your bra and jeans. It hit him in the face with a satisfying slap sound and you giggled at the face he made.
“I’m not even talking to you, nosy parker.” He stated, his eyes lingering a little too long on your chest to just be friends and he muttered again, “…frigging, wingless diaper muncher.”
“You’re obviously not talking to anyone else, old man.” You bickered, putting your hands on your hips and staring at him.
“Don’t start with me, sunshine- And you’re not a hell of a lot younger than me so I’d watch it, dollface.” He said, pulling off his wet shirts and tossing them in the pile on the ground with yours.
It was your turn to cast him a lingering glance. He was the perfect combination of soft and muscular and you bit your lip trying to trap a sigh. Your cheeks heating up too quickly, but he didn’t notice, too busy trying to hide his own growing feelings for you.
“I know but you get so angry when I call you a geezer. It’s adorable.” You smirked, you didn’t know why but you always loved teasing him when he was already annoyed.
“And you think that’s funny, little girl?” He asked with a raise of his eyebrows.
“Uh-huh, plus I think you’re kinda cute when you’re all flustered, tough guy.” You chuckled.
“I’m not the one who’s redder than a tomato right now, jiggles.” He pointed out, finally noticing the hue in your cheeks.
“Whatever, nipple sucker.”
“Hey. You like it when I do that, pumpkin.” He said matter-of-factly, his tongue peeking between his lips as he grinned at you and tilted his head.
“That was one time-”
“And every other time after that-”
“Shut up or it’s never happening again, dork.” You threatened, feeling even hotter than before.
“I can hold out a lot longer than you can, sweetness.” He bet, sliding his jeans down his thick thighs, leaving him in just his fitted red boxers. The ones with the little black hearts that you’d gotten him. He watched you squirm and bite the inside of your cheek as you filled with need. “Tough noogies, kitten.”
“Tease.” You called him.
“Brat.”
“Jerk.”
“Ass-butt.”
“Watch it, Dean, your Cas is showing… Hoser.” You muttered.
“Excuse me, peanut, what did you just call me?”
“…Honey.”
“That’s not what you said, darling.” He shook his head.
“How would you know, weirdo? You’ve been ignoring me all night; muttering insults every time you think I’m not listening, dick.” You cursed, finally calling him out on it.
“Not everything’s about you, cupcake.” He shook his head.
“Sure it’s not, babe.” You rolled your eyes, if it hadn’t been something you’d done, it had to be about you. Otherwise, you would’ve gotten it out of him by now, you always did. Sam called it your superpower. “You know I’ll get it out of you sooner or later, buddy, and I’d rather not do this all night. I’ve got other plans in store for you, big guy.”
“If you must know, princess, that damn cupid jabbed me with an arrow before he disappeared. So I’m not really in the mood for your teasing. Alright, buttercup?” Dean explained dryly.
“Alright… Why aren’t you with your soulmate then, Casanova?” You continued to tease ever so slightly.
“The butthead didn’t mark her. Said something about karma- I don’t know, he was still pissed that I punched in the face, the cry-baby.” Dean rolled his eyes, he never liked cupids, especially when they greeted him with a hug in their birthday suit no less.
“Oh… Are you sure about that, handsome? I mean, how do you even know who she is?” You asked, chewing on the edge of your thumbnail.
“Trust me, beautiful, I know. I felt it before he even touched me, it’s just more… intense now.” He said, his emerald eyes searching yours for something.
“So what are you gonna do about it, Romeo?” You egged him on, knowing exactly how he was feeling.
“Not much I can do, sugarplum.” Dean breathed with sad eyes, avoiding your gaze.
“You sure about that, stud muffin?” You asked, scrunching up your forehead.
“Yeah…” He sighed.
“Yeah?” You questioned, squinting up at him and grinning like an idiot.
“Uh- what are you getting at, chipmunk?” He replied, mirroring your grin after a moment.
“He marked me too, squirrel.” You admitted, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth and letting it go slowly.
“When?!”
“While you were renting the room, dumby. Cupids don’t mess around with true love, love-bug.” You said, noticing a look of relief in his bright eyes, like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. “So, good-looking, you like me, eh?” You asked, wetting your lips in antici… -pation.
“Cuddle bug, you have no idea.” He breathed, closing the distance between you far too slowly for your liking.
“Why don’t you show me, squishy.” You pulled him down by the back of his neck and into a needy kiss.
His lips slipping between yours as he struggled to keep up, still shocked that you were actually meant for him this whole time. He loved the idea of that, belonging to each other after craving all of you for so long. You were written in the stars together.
“Pretty girl, wait.” He panted, breaking the kiss but staying close enough to feel your moist breath on his skin. He was having second thoughts already ‘cuz let’s face it, it’s Dean; he never thinks he’s good enough even when he most definitely is. “Maybe we should call Cas, maybe he can reverse this.”
“Is that even what you want, doofus?” You pleaded, just wanting to keep on kissing him.
“No, Y/N/N. Of course I want you, angel.” But he had to ask one last time. “You sure you want me for keeps, baby girl?”
“Shut up and kiss me, tiger.” You moaned, pulling him down to meet your lips again, letting out a small squeak when he nibbled on your bottom lip and unhooked your bra.
Summary:With the newlywed hunting humans caught, you and Dean Winchester need to address the drunken vows that neither of you can remember. A/N: It’s taken a hoe (me, I’m the hoe) literally four years, BUT HERE IT IS
You traced the pink, puckered scar that dragged down your abdomen and across your hip. It was an angry reminder that not every monster was actually a monster. Some were … human.
Annie and Henry had done it before. Each year for their anniversary, in fact. Eight couples in eight days in different cities around the world for twenty years. It had been nothing more than bad luck (for them) that you’d been in Vegas for your first vacation in years, that Sam had happened to talk to someone from Mount Charleston, and that you and Dean had said your drunken vows.
“Does it still hurt?” His fingers reached out to trace the scar just behind yours. It had been three weeks before Dean allowed you to even leave the room without him and twice as long before you could leave the bunker. Even now you could see the guilt and worry in his eyes.
“Not physically.”
“I liked her too,” he said after a beat of silence. Annie’s face looming over you had been worse than the cut itself. She had been so kind, and you had liked her in spite of the red flags her eager invitation had raised. Dean took your left hand in his, playing with the ring you still wore.
He hadn’t taken his off either. Neither of you had brought it up in the months following your run in with the serial killers. It had seemed unimportant then, such a trivial detail after your near death and the (sober) night together that had followed it.
– – –
“So get–“ You ignored Sam’s voice and the opening of the door, hands running down Dean’s chest before slipping beneath his shirt. “I’ll, uhm, I mean, uh, bye,” Sam stammered, neither you nor Dean paying any attention.
The sudden slam of the door, however, had caused you both to laugh. “Do you think we should apologize?” you asked, breathless as Dean moved his lips away from yours to trace down your neck. He was careful to avoid the fresh stitches, but the adrenaline had yet to wear off and you weren’t sure it would hurt anyway.
“Sam should know the risks he takes walking in on newlyweds without knocking,” Dean answered, silencing you with a kiss before you could question him again. “Sam should know the risks he takes walking in on you and me without knocking.”
– – –
“Are you ready for dinner?” Dean asked. You couldn’t help the smile that lit your face when he asked. Once you had healed enough to freely leave the bunker – and then waited another two weeks for Dean to agree that you had healed enough to freely leave the bunker – he had begun taking you to dinner every week, even during weeks when you were hunting.
More often than not, Sam would sequester himself to the library while Dean laid out a blanket on the floor or a tablecloth over the kitchen table and treated you to the latest recipe he’d discovered. During hunts, he would whatever meal you’d been craving and bring a movie to the hotel room you all shared and tell Sam to eat in his bed instead of on the couch with the two of you.
Dean had been … cautious on those nights. Holding your hand or wrapping his arms around your shoulders, but never leaning in to kiss you unless you moved toward him first. Instead he would fill the night with questions and honesty, asking you about your family, about yourself, and answering whatever questions you posed in return. The dinners never ended in either of your beds – although plenty of other nights did – and he had made a habit of reminding you that he “truly cared about you” before he left you at the door to your bedroom and disappeared inside your own.
It had taken a few weeks before you realized what was happening. Dean was dating you. Proper courting, dating you. Although the rings had gone unacknowledged, something had undeniably shifted. You no longer had two separate lives, but an unconventionally and admittedly confusingly tangled single life. Apparently, without vocal acknowledgement, you had decided together that the easiest way to untangle the mess you’d found yourselves in was to continue forward with the, again unspoken, acknowledgement that neither of you regretted it.
You and Dean had started dating, without ever saying a word to each other.
“What’s on the menu tonight?” you asked, standing and allowing the flannel with missing buttons to cover your scar again.
“A picnic.”
– – –
Sounds native to the countryside that had become home filled the air as you watched the sun set, content to lean against the man next to you and the impala behind him in comfortable silence. It had been the perfect picnic. Dean had bought your favorite sandwiches. You weren’t sure how he had slipped out of the bunker without you noticing, but he driven to town to get them. He had even stopped by the liquor store.
You felt a soft kiss in your hair before he spoke, and you shifted in his hold until you could look into his eyes. “You know how much I care about you, don’t you?” You ignored the pang of uncertainty at his words. It was always care and never love.
“As much as I care about you.” The silence that followed your words served only to intensify the ache to admit it was more than caring, but you were patient. You always had been with Dean.
Dean had been so careful with you since Annie and Henry. He had carried you around the bunker the first few days, refusing to let you stand on your own. He always hovered near you on hunts, although he knew better than to stop you from fighting. He was simultaneously softer and harder when you trained.
But the change hadn’t only been physical. You might not have noticed if it had been. Dean was always protective, and even more so after an injury, but it was more than that. He would speak slowly, as if weighing what each word meant. He was slow to respond when you reached out to him and quick to ensure it was what you truly wanted. He fought against his instinct to close himself off and forced vulnerability between you. You could see the battle in his eyes each time you asked him about himself.
– – –
You were lying in the bed of the honeymoon suite, half dressed, as Dean tended to the cut that had begun bleeding again. “Do you really not remember anything about that night in Vegas?” you asked, struggling to distract yourself from the sharp sting of his fingers.
“Nothing …” You could tell he was far more focused on his fingers than your conversation, and you struggled to think of some way to force him into saying more as pain momentarily clouded the room. “Just waking up next to a beautiful woman I somehow tricked into my bed.” His voice was quiet, distracted, as if he hadn’t realized that he said anything out loud.
His words surprised you. Enough that you didn’t feel him pressing wrapping a bandage around your middle until it caught against your fresh stitches. You hissed, and his eyes jumped to yours, suddenly focused again. “Am I hurting you?” he asked. There was nothing in the way he looked at you that hinted at the admission he’d just made. That he felt he had tricked you into his bed; that it wasn’t something you had wanted as well. Maybe he hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud.
– – –
His quiet voice tore you from your reminiscing, from your reminder that Dean had believed you’d woken up in Vegas regretting him. He spoke slowly, brow furrowed in concentration as if struggled to find the right words, or struggling to remember them. He wouldn’t meet your eyes. “After … everything that happened … waking up in Vegas … then nearly … nearly losing you … I wanted to be careful.” With this admission, something changed. Dean held you close to his side, and a hand rose to cup your cheek, his fingers playing along your temple as he continued. “There were so many questions, so many things we couldn’t talk about … but those things don’t really matter, and all that matters is that I love you and I need you to hear me say it.”
You didn’t hesitate, didn’t give him a moment to wonder if you had regretted him all those months before. “I love you too.”
Request by @jessicalynnann: What about one where the reader and Eileen get super drunk while the boys are out and Eileen calls Dean to come get the reader and she is all giggly and flirts with Dean and it is fluffy and just cute.
Summary: You and Eileen have a girls night that end with you confessing something to the man that you love.
The brothers are gone for the night, and that means you and Eileen have the entire bunker to yourselves. Dean has the good alcohol stashed in the library where Sam won’t be able to find it, but you know exactly where it is. You’ll have to buy him more bottles if you and Eileen are going to drink them all. You’re seated at the table with your feet resting on the wood surface, and Eileen is seated on the floor next to you.
“You know what we never talk about?” you ask with a slight slur.
“What?”
She may be drunk, but she can still read your lips. Plus, her hearing aid helps with some of the sound.
“You and Sam. You two are so cute together,” you giggle. “You need to make a move because he’s not getting any younger.”
“We’re just friends,” she says and takes another sip of her bottle.
“Yeah, friends who need to fuck,” you laugh.
“Okay, what about you and Dean?”
She gets up on wobbly legs and takes a seat next to you so she can see you and read your lips better.
“What about me and Dean?”
”Come on, you two are practically dating.”
She’s right. You and Dean are so close and have kissed each other before, but nothing has gone beyond that. He treats you like a girlfriend without the sex and vice versa. It’s kind of annoying since all you want to do is rip his clothes off, but he hasn’t had the “talk” with you yet. It wouldn’t be hard if he didn’t make it so damn difficult to get over.
“Dean isn’t into me like that,” you shake your head.
“Yeah, okay,” she scoffs. She looks at the half-drunk bottle and sets it down with a sigh. “I’m going to go to bed.”
“What? No, stay with me,” you whine.
“I’m seeing two of you right now,” she chuckles. “That’s me saying I need to stop. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Fine. I don’t mind drinking by myself.”
Eileen wobbles away to her room, leaving you alone in the library. You’re almost done with Dean’s most expensive bottle when you hear the metal door to the Bunker open. You look to the right and see Sam and Dean walk down, and your eyes widen with happiness.
“Sammy! Dean! You’re back!” you giggle loudly.
“Are you drunk?” Sam chuckles.
“I don’t know, am I?”
“Okay, where is Eileen?”
“In her room. Are you going to tuck her in? Kiss her goodnight?” you giggle.
Sam doesn’t say anything but make eye contact with his brother. Sam leaves the party and heads to Eileen’s room to see if she is okay.
“Are you drinking my good stuff?” Dean gasps, looking at the bottle in your hand.
“Yeah-huh,” you nod and remove your legs from the table. “Don’t worry, Dean, I’ll get you more.”
“You better. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
“No,” you huff and slide the bottle from you. “I’m mad at you.”
“Why?”
“Because you won’t tell me how you feel. If it were up to me, I’d fuck you right here and now.”
Dean’s eyes get a little darker, but he won’t say what’s really on his mind. You’re not in the right mind for this conversation, so the best thing he can do is take you to bed and talk with you tomorrow about this.
“Okay, come on, let’s go to bed.”
Dean reaches for you and helps you to your feet, but you don’t want to go to bed just yet. You fling yourself onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Let’s stay here. No one is here to watch,” you giggle.
“No, I’m taking you to bed. Don’t make this harder for me.”
“The only thing on you that I want hard is your dick.”
Dean chuckles and nods impatiently, knowing that he is going to have to carry you to bed if you’re not going to walk yourself. Without thinking, he bends down and grabs your legs, lifting you up and over his shoulder. You squeal in surprise, hitting his back with almost dead-weight, laughing when he starts to walk toward your room.
“You have such a perfect ass, Dean.”
You slap his ass, making Dean roll his eyes in resistance. It is taking everything in him not to throw you down and fuck you right here and now. He has been holding himself back since the moment he laid his eyes on you; he can wait a night. He takes you to your room and sets you gently on the bed so he doesn’t hurt you.
“Dean, please stay,” you say breathlessly.
You keep trying to get him to stay, but he keeps dodging your efforts to stay. It gets to the point where it pisses him off just how much he can’t take advantage of you. He pulls away from you completely and holds your shoulders, staring deeply into your eyes.
“Y/N, listen to me. I want nothing more than to get you into bed. If you still want me when you’re sober, then I will spend all night making sure you know how much I love you,” he whispers the last part.
“You are a beautiful white man, Dean Winchester.”
“Okay,” he sighs.
“What woman wouldn’t want you? You’re the best man ever.”
“Sleep tight. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Dean tucks you into bed, and as soon as you feel the covers over you, you fall into a deep sleep. Dean kisses your forehead and leaves your room, closing your door softly behind him. He leans against the door in thought, trying to calm his racing heart. Maybe you feel the same about him because drunk words are sober thoughts, and he can’t stop thinking about you.
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Author’s Note: this is the series finale. i am so sad this is all over, but i want to thank each and every one of you guys for liking, reblogging, and commenting on my series. i honestly couldn’t do this without any of you, so for that, thank you. for those who are wondering, i did start season 8, but the earliest it’s going to come out is in August/September. i know it’s a long way away, but i work very hard to bring you the very best content.
hank you for always supporting me <3
I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.
Sam got the woman to the hospital just in time for you three to head back to your dad’s cabin and regroup. You and Dean are sitting at the table staring at your dad’s flask, Sam is on the phone with the hospital, Meg is drinking your beer, and Castiel is making more sandwiches for you three to eat.
“Okay, thanks,” Sam says before hanging up. “She’s fine. She’s checking out of the hospital tonight.”
“Well, that’s positive,” Castiel states, passing a plate to you and Dean with sandwiches on them.
“Thank you, Castiel,” you smile politely.
“Tell me again why you turned tail for some maid?” Meg asks. “You were right there.”
“Can you shut the hell up for once? Please?” you sigh. “We’re not like you, Meg. We don’t just care about ourselves. We help people no matter what. That’s not something you’ll ever learn.”
“Because Dick made more Dicks,” Sam says. “He must’ve kept a chunk of the original Dick Roman somewhere. Uh, they’d all have to touch it.”
Castiel clears his throat and washes the dishes, not commenting on anything.
“Hey, shifty, what’s your problem?” Dean asks.
“Do we need a cat? Doesn’t this place feel one species short?”
“We already have a dog,” you say and point to Zeus who barks.
Joanna mimics the dog and barks in her own way, and you giggle into her hair. She looks at her daddy and reaches out for him so he can hold her.
“It’s not like I carried you for nine months or anything.”
“Dada,” Joanna grins.
Dean takes her into his arms, trying to hide his smile. He is beyond happy that she said his name first before yours.
“You got anything to say on the topic of Dicks? Crowley was pretty sure that you could help,” he says once his daughter is in his arms.
“I can’t help. Do you understand? I can’t. I destroyed… everything, and I will destroy everything again. Can we please just leave it at that?”
“No, we can’t,” you say and stand up. “We can’t leave it. You let these fucking things in.”
“So, you don’t get to make a sandwich. You don’t get a damn cat. Nobody cares that you’re broken, Cas. Clean up your mess!” Dean says harshly.
You look at Dean in shock that he would say something like this to him. Behind Castiel’s eyes is pain at the harshness of his words, but he doesn’t show it. He puts down the dishes he is holding and walks over to Dean.
“You know… we should play Twister.”
Castiel disappears right before Dean’s eyes, and Meg rolls her own.
“Nice. You scared off the Empire’s only hope.”
“Meaning?” Sam wonders.
“Has it ever occurred to you every one of those things was in Cas? He knows them. He can see past the meat suits.”
“He’ll be able to spot the real Dick.”
“Gold star, sugarpants. Too bad he’s Fruit Loops. You might’ve had a chance.”
There is a sound of angel wings fluttering, and you turn to see Castiel with a Twister board on the floor. You honestly don’t even recognize your friend anymore. You’re not sure what you can do to help him recover from whatever pain he had to go through while healing Sam. All you can do now is just watch him and make sure he doesn’t disappear again. Dean and Sam continue to watch the security cameras while you hang with Castiel and Joanna on the floor.
“Come on, say ‘mama’. Ma-ma.”
“Dada,” she smiles.
“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” you ask with your eyes narrowed playfully.
She makes spit bubbles and laughs, and you can’t help but giggle in response.
“There’s no real point in looking for a tell. They all downloaded Dick’s brain. They’ve all got the same tells,” Dean groans.
“Alright, then maybe the question is, what would the real Dick be doing?”
“Is that the best you can do? Idjits,” your dad makes an appearance.
“Bobby. We didn’t know if you’d–”
“Well, you should’ve. You got the flask. Dumbass. You should’ve burned it right off.”
“Bobby.”
Your dad motions for you to follow him outside, so you three separate from Castiel to go outside and talk to your dad.
“I’m still jonesing to go back, grab some poor bastard, and kill them going after Dick. It’s bad. Let’s be real. I damn near killed you and that woman.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Bobby–not really.”
“Right. That’s just what ghosts turn into. I really bet the farm I could outsmart that.”
“So, what’s it feel like?”
“What? Going vengeful? It’s an itch you can’t scratch out. Look… I’m done. Go get Dick, but don’t do it because you think it’ll scratch the itch. Do it because it’s the job, and when it’s your time… go.”
You can’t seem to look at your dad because if you do, then you know you’d be a crying mess. Of course, you don’t want him to go, but he can’t stay like this forever. You were scared of this exact thing happening to him and to you.
“Y/N?”
“I don’t want you to go,” you whisper emotionally.
You know he has to, but this just hurts too damn much. Dean gets up and takes Joanna from you so you and your dad can have a moment alone before you say goodbye to him for good. You and your dad step off to the side so that the men don’t have to go anywhere.
“This is exactly what I was afraid of. I was afraid of feeling this way a second time.”
“I just want you to know how proud I am of you. You’ve surpassed my expectations as a witch and as a mother. There’s no one I’d rather have as a daughter than you. I’m sorry I’ve put you through this pain, but I didn’t want to leave you and Joanna.”
“I love you so much,” you sniffle.
“I love you more. I don’t know where I’m going, but just know I’ll always be here to watch over you. You’re never going to be alone, you hear me?”
“I know.” You look over at Sam and Dean who quickly look away as they pretend not to listen. “Okay, we’re ready.”
He and Sam take the flask and go out back where they start a small fire to put the flask in. Dean has the flask in his hands while you hold Joanna, but he can’t seem to do it.
“Here’s to… running into you guys on the other side. Only… not too soon. Alright?” your dad says.
“Goodbye, daddy,” you whisper.
“Goodbye, darling.”
Dean tosses the flask into the flames without the leather cover on it. The more it burns, the more your dad is closer to the end. You look at your dad and watch as flames envelope his entire body. You let out a sob and turn to your husband who takes you into his arms.
“Mama,” Joanna finally says, touching your cheek.
“Yes, I’m your mama,” you smile through your tears.
You look up and see Castiel watching you from the back window, and there is a certain look of uncertainty in his eyes. You pull away from Dean and leave the fire to go back inside. The brothers put out the flames a few minutes later and followed loosely behind.
“Cas, I need a wingman,” Dean clears his throat.
“Dean…”
“You don’t want to jump into the jaws of death, that’s… fine. How about we run a little errand? You too, Y/N.”
“Can you watch her?” you ask Sam and pass her off to her uncle.
“Sure.”
Instead of driving there, Castiel offered to be the ride. Dean gave Castiel the location, and you know exactly where he wants to take you two. He’s going to the place where his precious car is being stored for the time being. You know he really misses her, but it’s only a matter of time before you can use it again. With a flutter of angel wings, you and Dean disappear from your dad’s cabin to the place where Baby is being stored.
“Thanks for the lift.”
“My pleasure.” Dean walks to his baby and lifts the corner of the tarp covering her, smiling softly at the shiny metal. “Dean…”
“I know you’re scared, Castiel,” you cut in before he can say anything more. “I’m scared. You let these things in, and they beat you, and now you’re afraid of facing them because they might beat you again. I understand that, but we have a way to end this. It doesn’t matter what you did, Castiel. It matters what you do now, and you’re the only one who can help take all of them down. You did a bad thing, but that doesn’t make you a bad person.”
“I’m not good luck, Y/N,” Castiel whispers.
“She’s right, you know. Bottom of the ninth, and you’re the only guy left on the bench… Sorry, but I’d rather have you, cursed or not. Anyway, nut up, alright? We’re all cursed. Do we seem like good luck to you?” Dean says the same thing but in his own way. Castiel stares at the two of you with an unknown look on his face. “What?”
“Well, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I detect a note of forgiveness from both of you.”
“That’s because we’re giving it to you, Castiel. You’ve earned it.”
“Well, I’ll go with you, and I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks,” Dean says with a small smile.
“So, can I ask what the plan is?”
“Well, according to Crowley, Dick knows we’re coming, so we’re gonna announce ourselves–big,” Dean smirks.
“Go big or go home,” you shrug.
Dean never lets anyone drive his precious Baby, but he had to if he wanted to distract most of the Leviathans. You hated this idea, but you had to have Meg drive it so that the Leviathans would think it’s you instead of her. While she is speeding up to the doors, you and the Winchesters went through the back and split up. Sam is going to go find Kevin since they are holding him here, and you and Dean go with Castiel so he can point out where the real Dick is.
“Take her. Keep her safe, okay? I can’t kill Dick if I’m worried about her,” you say to Sam and hand Joanna to her.
“Of course.”
“Mama,” Joanna whines, reaching out for you.
“Not now, baby. You’re going to be with your uncle Sammy, okay? Be a good girl.”
You kiss her head and look at Sam before leaving for Dean and Castiel’s side.
“We’ll be right back, sweetheart,” Dean sighs.
He kisses his daughter before leaving so that it’s not any worse than it already is. You leave with the two men, trying to find the best way to Dick without raising suspicion. You’d rather not kill a bunch of Leviathans only to alert Dick and have him get away. It’s too quiet in this building, but you have a mission to do. Every Leviathan you see, you have to make sure they aren’t the real Dick based on Castiel’s opinion. When you see a Leviathan, he looks at them and nods yes or no if they are the real Dick.
Each one you pass is the wrong person, so you have to continue on until you reach the real one. Gunshots ring out from the front of the building, and you know Meg is doing her part. You only have so much time before Dick is alerted by them dying.
You’re about to walk past a conference room that had glass walls when you notice Dick sitting in there alone. You stop and look at Castiel, nodding to the room to tell him there is someone in there. You move out of the way so he can peek inside, but when he shakes his head at you, you know you have to keep looking.
If you had to guess, Dick would be in the bottom level where the labs would be so as to keep everything he’s doing out of the public eye. You three take the stairs to the labs which also have glass windows and walls. You turn the corner and see Dick and another Leviathan dressed like a doctor. Castiel peeks at them from behind you, and when he nods his head, you know you have your guy.
You bend down and sneak past the window so he won’t be able to see you when you come to a door that has access to the room. You unlock it with your magic and tiptoe inside, not alerting either Leviathan. Dick is standing there with his back to you, holding some kind of small creamer. You believe this will end mankind as you know it if he gets this distributed.
“You know, I think this might end up the slickest little genocide in history,” Dick chuckles, downing the small container.
“Thank you, sir,” the Leviathan grins, packing a box with the small creamers.
“Just sayin’. I smell 'promotion’.”
You sneak up behind the Leviathan and form a magical sword since it’s a lot quieter than Dean unsheathing his machete. You slice right through the Leviathan’s neck, cutting his head clean off. He gargles up blood but drops dead. If Dick didn’t know you were here before, he does now. He crushes the creamer container in his hands and turns around, making eye contact with your bright blue ones. He looks down at his friend, but he doesn’t have any reaction.
“Little abrupt… but okay,” he chuckles. “Castiel. Good to see you again. Thanks for the ride into paradise.”
Dean reaches into his jacket pocket and removes a bone soaked in blood. If you’re dealing with Dick, you have to be smarter than he is. The first rule of dealing with the diabolical ones is that you always need a back up, and this is your back up weapon. This is the distraction while you have the real one on you.
You just have to figure out the best time to use it.
“And good on you for pulling that together. A-plus.”
“Oh, you don’t think this’ll work, do you? You trust that demon?” Dean asks, stepping over Dick’s dead friend so he can get closer to him.
“You sure I’m even me, Dean?”
“No, but he is,” Dean says, gesturing to Castiel who glares at him. Based on Dick’s reaction, you know he doesn’t like that Castiel knows who everyone is. “See, here’s the thing when dealing with Crowley–he will always find a way to bone you.”
“This meeting’s over.”
Castiel is the first to try and take down Dick, but the Leviathan is quick to overpower him. Dick grabs Castiel’s shoulders and throws him into the wall behind him, watching as the plaster cracks beneath him. With him distracted, Dean uses that fake weapon and stabs Dick in the chest. He gasps and staggers, but this, of course, doesn’t work on him.
You have the real thing.
Dick laughs and removes the bone with no issue, snapping it in two with his bare hands. You have to be smarter than Dick if you want to kill him. You think back to what your mom said to you when you were in your magical coma after trying to defeat two Leviathans.
“Leviathans are powerful creatures, and it takes a lot more than normal to take them down–more than what you and your daughter can provide.”
If you can’t combine your magic with your daughter’s to defeat Dick, then you have to use your other abilities to achieve it. You close your eyes and take a deep breath to calm yourself, and because of it, you think of the perfect solution. Dean and Castiel don’t know what you’re going to do, they just know you’re going to do something.
“Did you really think you could trump me?” Dick laughs.
“No, but she can.”
You open your eyes just as a wave of magic stems from your body onward. Everything slows down until it stops completely. You have stopped the effects of time once again, and not even Dick can go against that. You look at Dean to see him smirking because he knows that your side is going to win. Castiel looks very worried because in his mind, there is doubt you can pull this off. Dick looks cocky because Dean’s words haven’t sunk into his brain just yet. The more you use this power, the more you have control over it.
You make sure not to touch anything or anyone–you don’t want to fuck this up before it’s even had a chance to start. You maneuver to behind Dick, looking to your left through the small windows on the doors. You can see Kevin and Sam rush over to the room with Joanna in your brother-in-law’s arms.
“I hope you know how much I love you,” you say to Joanna even though she can’t hear you. You’re not even sure why you’re saying this, but you have a feeling something bad is going to happen. “I hope you know that your dad and I would do anything to give you the childhood we never had. I hope you get that, baby girl.”
You turn back to Dick and take the real weapon out of your jacket pocket. A single tear slides down your face as you return time back to normal. Your magic is sucked back into your body as if it never left. Dick looks around for you, and you reach up to tap his shoulder. He swiftly turns around to face you, your feet are almost touching with how close you two are.
“This is for my dad, you Dick.” You take the real weapon and slam it into his neck, watching as it sticks out on the other end. You’re blown back from the impact, knocking into Castiel. Dick yells in pain and in agony that he lost this battle to a couple of hunters. “Don’t fucking mess with a witch next time.”
As soon as you stick that weapon in his neck, Sam and Kevin come barreling into the room with worried looks on their faces. Dick’s face transforms into his Leviathan form before returning to normal. Black blood starts to pour out of his nose and mouth, but he isn’t fazed by it at all. He starts to laugh evilly, in a way that makes your skin crawl. Waves of energy pulsate from his body in time with a loud, accelerating heartbeat. Suddenly, the energy is sucked back into his body in the same way that your magic was sucked into yours.
Due to this, Dick explodes into black goo. You close your eyes to shield yourself from the blast, but when you open your eyes, you’re not in the lab anymore.
In fact, you’re not even in the same environment.
You scramble to your feet and look around you to gauge just how bad this is. You’re not in the Sucrocorp building anymore… you’re in a dark forest. There are whispers and shuffling coming from all around you, but you can’t see anyone with your normal vision and your magic.
“Dean!” you shout.
You don’t think that’s a good idea, but you’re alone and scared.
“Sam!”
No one is answering you, which makes you think you’re all alone here.
“Joanna?” you ask, but much more quietly.
Tears brim your eyes when you have no clue what you did or even where you are. More importantly, what happened to Sam and your daughter? And why aren’t they with you?
Wanna get tagged? Add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why! Follow my library blog @queenofdeansbooty-writes where I reblog all my stories, so you can follow that if you can’t be tagged!
Author’s Note: this is the series finale. i am so sad this is all over, but i want to thank each and every one of you guys for liking, reblogging, and commenting on my series. i honestly couldn’t do this without any of you, so for that, thank you. for those who are wondering, i did start season 8, but the earliest it’s going to come out is in August/September. i know it’s a long way away, but i work very hard to bring you the very best content.
thank you for always supporting me <3
I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.
You grab Joanna and walk to the bedroom so you can get ready as well as get her ready. You set her on the bed and watch as she stands and bounces on the bed gently. You chuckle and grab one of your shirts from the drawers. You look at the shirt and just sigh, taking a seat on the end of the bed. You’ve been waiting for this moment for months, to kill Dick for killing your father. You have all the ingredients, you have the weapon, now you just need a plan of attack.
You’re so much in your own head that you don’t hear the bedroom door open and your husband walk in.
“You okay?”
“This has to work Dean,” you sigh and look up at him. “If it doesn’t, he’s going to kill us and Joanna. That’s a guarantee.”
“That’s the exact reason why this is going to work. You’re a damn light witch, and the best one at that.”
“I want him dead for what he did,” you say emotionally, sniffling to keep the tears in.
“You’re going to get the chance to avenge your dad’s death. We’ll make sure Joanna is out of harm’s way. We’ll keep her with Sam and have him hang back if that will make you feel better.”
“I love you.”
You stand up and kiss him with everything you got, keeping in mind your daughter who has no idea what is going on. You pull away and turn to the bed to get dressed when your daughter does something you knew was coming for a while now but didn’t know it would be now. Dean starts to leave the room, but she doesn’t want him to go just yet. The bed isn’t as hard as the floor, so she wobbles and falls a few times as she tries to run to him.
“Dada,” she says, reaching out to him.
Both yours and Dean’s jaws drop but for different reasons.
“Traitor,” you gasp playfully.
“What the hell did she just say?” Dean gasps.
“Dada!” Joanna says again, reaching out for him.
“Yes, I’m your daddy!” Dean laughs happily.
He picks Joanna up and spins her around, kissing her cheeks.
“Do you know who I am?” you ask her, taking her tiny hands between two fingers.
“Dada!” she squeals.
You look at Dean and see hints of tears in his eyes. You know how much this means to him, and you’re glad he got to have this moment.
“Are you okay?” you chuckle.
“I’m just happy,” he whispers truthfully.
You haven’t seen that smile in a long time, and you’re glad he has it now.
“Well, you definitely got a Daddy’s girl. Come on, let’s get ready.”
You quickly change into more comfortable clothing before leaving the bedroom. You smile widely when you hear Dean talking to his baby girl as if she can talk in full sentences. You have no clue what is going to happen later, but you’re glad you got to her hear first word and see her first steps.
You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you have a feeling it won’t be good.
You’re finally outside of Sucrocorp, but you have to have a plan instead of going in half-assed. You have to scout the area, see where Dick is, and then follow up with a plan. There are three of you, so you have more wiggle room here. Dean parked a ways away from the building, using binoculars to see while Sam is using his laptop to get into the cameras using whatever Charlie left on his laptop.
“You got it yet?”
“Here we go.”
You scoot further up so you’re right behind the brothers to see the laptop. Sam’s laptop shows footage of the board room where a meeting is still in progress. Dick is sitting there talking to his fellow Leviathans, and your eyes narrow.
“Thank you, Charlie, wherever you are,” Sam mutters.
“Got you, Dick.”
“Yeah, that’s the second floor.” The screen changes to show more cameras, one of which is the camera right outside Dick’s office where you can clearly see him sitting at his office, alone. “What the hell? Is that Dick?”
The screen now shows footage of Dick walking alone in a hallway.
“Son of a bitch. This motherfucker told everyone to look like him so we wouldn’t know who the real Dick is,” you curse.
“Cycle through again,” Dean orders.
While Sam is doing that, you grab the binoculars and notice someone walking to the front door. When you clear your vision, you notice it’s the maid you saw at the motel when you left Emily all alone. It’s the same motel room your dad went missing from.
“Son of a bitch,” you curse.
“What?”
“That’s the maid from the motel. The room where my dad disappeared to. We found him.” The maid walks to the building in determination. “Oh no, dad, what are you doing?”
“Wait. Are you saying that Bobby–”
“Look, just, uh, wait here.”
“I’ll go with you,” Sam says.
“Are you two out of your mind?”
“Don’t worry, Dean. I have the weapon, you have eyes on Dick, plural. We’ll take care of my dad. We’ll be right back.”
“Sam! Y/N!”
You and Sam leave the car without waiting for Dean’s response. You two rush over to the maid before she could even enter the building and alert all the Leviathans there. Sam decides to take the direct approach while you hang back just in case something bad happens. Sam rushes in front of the maid, holding his hands to stop her.
“Bobby? I know you’re in there. Listen to me. There are cameras everywhere. There’s one right there.” Sam points to one nearby. “Stop, okay? You’re gonna get her killed.” Your dad pushes Sam to the ground as hard as he can, but that doesn’t stop Sam from getting back up and trying again. “Bobby! Damn it! How are you gonna kill Dick, huh? You can’t!”
Your dad takes out a large knife from one of the maid’s pockets.
“Good enough for me,” she says in a distorted voice.
Your dad slashes at Sam to get him to move out of his way, and you gasp at his behavior. Sam looks up at the security camera and practically tackles your dad to the ground behind a parked vehicle to stay out of sight of the cameras.
“No! I’m not letting you go.”
“Get out of here, Sam. You too, Y/N.”
“No!” you yell.
Your dad slams Sam into the car and grabs his throat, squeezing it tightly.
“Daddy! Please stop!” you squeak, tears leaking from your eyes.
Your dad turns and looks at how scared you are. You would use your magic, but you don’t want to end up hurting the poor woman that he is inhabiting. Your dad knows how reckless he’s being, so he forces himself off Sam and leaves the woman’s body so that he’s a ghost again. The woman falls to the ground, but before she could crack her head open, you rush to catch her.
“We can’t be here.”
Sam coughs as he gathers himself. Your dad’s flask is inside the maid’s pockets, so you take it and place it in your own. Once Sam can breathe properly, he scoops the woman into his arms. You can’t get Dick tonight because of what your dad pulled, so you’ll have to score for tomorrow. If Dick was here all day today, then you know he is going to be here all day tomorrow. You and Sam bring the woman to the car where Dean is as confused as ever.
“What the hell happened?” Dean wonders.
“Just drive. We’ll explain later.”
Dean has no choice but to listen.
Wanna get tagged? Add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why! Follow my library blog @queenofdeansbooty-writes where I reblog all my stories, so you can follow that if you can’t be tagged!
Author’s Note: this is the series finale. i am so sad this is all over, but i want to thank each and every one of you guys for liking, reblogging, and commenting on my series. i honestly couldn’t do this without any of you, so for that, thank you. for those who are wondering, i did start season 8, but the earliest it’s going to come out is in August/September. i know it’s a long way away, but i work very hard to bring you the very best content.
thank you for always supporting me <3
I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.
You figured with all of your resources and people you know, you would have found your dad a lot sooner. He’s been missing for a whole ass month, doing whatever he’s been doing to try and get Dick Roman off his high throne. You have no way to track him down, so you have to wait until he comes to you instead of the other way around. The only thing you can focus on is your family and the fact that your little girl is now eleven months old. She is almost a year old, and you have no clue what you’re going to do for her birthday.
She is walking and is so close to talking, you can feel it. She is babbling a lot more and trying to imitate you or Dean whenever you sound out words to her. Your little girl is growing up so quickly, you can’t keep up with her. Before you know it, she is going to be going to preschool, and then she’s going to go to her prom.
Moments like these are special, and you have to hold them close to your heart because this only happens once in a lifetime. You can have more children, but there will always be one Joanna, so it’s going to be different with every child you may have. These moments are far in between because you’re this close to finally killing Dick. All you have left to do is grab Crowley’s blood and get a righteous bone, which is where you three are heading out to do.
You’re keeping Joanna entertained in the back seat with your magic. You’re making it rain down in sparkles and wisps, capturing her attention. She has bright green eyes, but the blue magic makes her eyes sparkle more. She coos and reaches out for the magic, but it’s always just out of reach for her.
“Are we almost there?” you ask.
“Exit is in three miles,” Sam says.
“I still say this is a bad idea,” Dean sighs.
“Dean, it was your idea, and it was the best one either of us had,” you chirp.
“I said it as a joke.”
“It was a bad joke–good idea.”
“Yeah, only because we got no magic spell, no book, and nothing on how to find a fucking righteous bone.”
“We can call Castiel again.”
“No, you know what happened last time. Y/N and I finally had some alone time, so we took the car out for a night, and just when things might have gotten good for us, Cas showed up naked on the car covered in bees.”
“For an angel, he was packing,” you grin.
“Really? That’s what you were focusing on?”
“Don’t worry, Dean. You’re bigger,” you whisper to him.
“Okay, I don’t want to hear that,” Sam cringes.
“What? From what I hear, you’ve seen how big he is.”
“You told her?” Sam asks and looks at his brother.
“Can we focus on what we’re doing here? Dick is held up at Sucrocorp right now. If we’re going to get him, that’s where we’re going to do it.”
Dean pulls off at the exit and heads to the cemetery where you’ll find your righteous bone. This cemetery was popular for housing a bunch of nuns back in the day, so if you’re going to find a righteous bone, this is where you’re going to do it. Dean only suggested this a joke, but it’s the only option you have right now. You head into the dark cemetery with Joanna in your arms. She managed to fall asleep in her car seat, but as soon as you moved to take it out, she woke up and started crying. As soon as she was in your arms, she fell back asleep.
This girl is going to be the death of you. She is her father’s daughter.
“Well, I guess if we can’t find a righteous bone in a fucking nun crypt, then we won’t find it anywhere else,” Dean shudders.
“Alright. Here,” Sam says and stops outside of an above-ground tomb where a bunch of nuns is laid to rest. “Listen to this. Sister Mary Benedict taught the learning-impaired and died at age twenty-three.”
Sam did some research about the women who were placed here after death to see who might be the most righteous. You hate stealing one of their bones, but it’s what you have to do to get rid of Earth’s worst monsters.
“Eh, it’s a little young. Find someone who’s had time to cook.”
“Okay, well, there was Sister Mary Eunice. Uh, fed the poor and became Mother Superior at age sixty.”
“Sounds political. Power corrupts,” you state.
“Right. Okay, listen to this–Sister Mary Constant, eighty years of quiet, humble nun-like goodness. What do you think?”
“Wow. I want to be more righteous just hearing this. Well, I lay odds on her. Here we go. Let’s bone this nun.” You and Sam give Dean a weird look, and a blush creeps up his cheeks. “Sorry.”
He removes a mallet from his duffel bag and goes to town on the coffin. Joanna slept through the whole thing because you know she feels safe in your arms. As soon as you grab the femur bone, you take off back to your dad’s cabin. You have three of the four ingredients–Castiel’s blood, the alpha’s blood, and the righteous bone. All you need is Crowley’s blood.
You waited until you were back in your dad’s cabin to do the spell to summon Crowley. He made a whole point of making sure he was the last one because his blood was “special” and “can be used against him”. Paranoid bastard. Joanna is playing in her playpen, picking up her toys, and organizing where they go. It’s crazy how much she loves walking and running. She loves playing tag with Dean, squealing whenever he catches her. You know she’s doing it because she loves getting caught.
She’s going to make a great witch one day.
With everything in the bowl to summon Crowley, he lights a match and tosses it in there. Crowley loves making an entrance, but he is taking way too long to show up. Something is wrong. He either wants to screw you guys over or he’s in trouble. Either way, it doesn’t look like he’s coming.
“Is he trying to make a grand entrance or…?”
“I don’t know.”
“Son of a bitch. He’s standing us up.”
“He’s either screwing us over or he’s in trouble. I have a feeling Dick has something to do with it,” you sigh.
“Maybe.” There is a knock at the door, and Sam takes out his gun as a precaution. He walks over to the door and looks through the peephole to see who it is. “Maybe it’s good news.”
Sam opens the door revealing Meg. You roll your eyes when she walks in as if she lives here.
“Great,” you scoff.
“You deal with him. I can’t anymore.”
“You might want to be more specific.”
“I was laying low halfway across the world when emo boy pops up out of nowhere and zaps me right back here.”
“Castiel? Why?” you wonder.
“Go ask him. He was your boyfriend first,” she says to you and Dean.
You know Joanna is going to be safe with Sam in here, so you leave her in her playpen as you and Dean walk outside where Castiel is sitting in a red car in front of the cabin. You look both ways before crossing the street, stopping on the driver’s side where Castiel is.
“Hey, there,” Dean says, leaning on the car and bending down. Castiel raises his hand and waves but doesn’t say a word. “So, Cas, what’s the word?”
“Well, Dean, I’ve been thinking. Monkeys are so clever, and they’re sensible in that they leave the skins on the bananas that they eat. Is it really necessary to test cosmetics on them? I mean, how important is lipstick to you, Dean?”
“What?” you ask, very confused.
“You want to come inside and, uh, tell us what’s going on?”
“Of course.”
Castiel gets out of the car, and you escort him to the house where Sam and Meg are waiting. Sam is holding Joanna in his arms as she plays with his hair and tangles it in her tiny fingers, but he doesn’t seem to care. You’re glad he did this because you don’t trust Meg one ounce.
“Now, you understand I don’t participate in aggressive activity.” Castiel picks up the bone you stole and sniffs it. “Mm. Sister Mary Constant. Good choice.”
“Why’d you go to Meg, Cas?” Sam wonders.
“When I left, I wanted to observe the flowers and fruit. Flowers come first, obviously, but I heard nothing from them.”
“You heard nothing from who, Castiel?”
“The Garrison.”
“What happened to the Garrison?”
“Well, finally, the silence was deafening, so I went to look at the home of the Prophet. You know, Leviathans can kill angels. There’s a reason why Father locked them in Purgatory. They’re the Piranha that would eat the whole aquarium. They’re gone. The entire Garrison–dead. If there’s anyone left at all, they’re in hiding.”
“Wait, you’re saying all the angels are dead? Where’s Kevin?” you ask worriedly.
“I could steal them from their cages, the monkeys. But where would I put them all?”
“Hey!” Dean claps his hands in front of Castiel’s face. “Focus. Is Kevin alive?”
“I don’t want to fight.”
“No, I’m not–” Dean sighs and returns to his calm self. “We’re very worried.”
“They took him. He’s alive. I felt such responsibility, but it’s in your hands now.”
“Wait, hold on a fucking minute.”
“I feel much better.”
“Guys, what’s all that?” Meg asks, seeing the table you were using to summon Crowley.
“We called Crowley.”
“You what?”
“Don’t worry. He never showed.”
“What do you mean never–”
“Do you see him anywhere? He stood us up!” Dean cuts her off.
“Well, I’m sorry about that, but I’m out. He could still sh–-”
“Show up at any time,” Crowley finishes her sentence, appearing out of nowhere. “Hello boys and Y/N. Sorry, I’m late. This is an embarrassment of riches.” He turns to Meg who looks scared. “Stay, won’t you. There’s really nowhere to run.”
Meg runs for the door, but Crowley disappears from where he is to right in front of her, blocking her exit.
“Don’t even think of smoking out, pussycat. I’ve got eyes all over the place.”
“Leave her be,” Castiel says, coming to her protection.
“Castiel. When last we spoke, you, well, enslaved me. I’m confused. Why aren’t you dead?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, do you want to be? ‘Cause I can help with that.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” you butt in.
“It’s enough when I say. I came here to help you. I find out you’ve been lying to me, harboring an angel, and not just any angel–the one angel I most want to crush between my teeth.”
“Oh, so you can crush angels now, huh?” Meg sasses.
“You bore me. Do you know that? You have no sense of poetry.” He turns to Castiel. “Now, what do you have to say for yourself?”
“Well, I’m still, uh, honing my communication strategy. I haven’t even been back to Heaven. I-I keep thinking there are no insects up there, but here we have trillions. You know, they’re making honey and silk and… miracles, really.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Um, preferring insects to angels, I guess. Here. I can offer a token if you like.” Castiel pulls out a bag of a yellow substance from his trench coat. “It’s honey. I-I collected it myself.”
“You’re off your rocker. He’s off his rocker, is that it? Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?” Crowley asks you three.
“Look, did you come here to donkey-punch your old grudges or to help us end Dick? Pick a battle.”
“Well, I’m vexed. I’d like to do both, but where’s the fun in clobbering a ball of wet fur? Text me when Sparkles here retrieves his marbles, I suppose. Meanwhile, a prezzie.”
Crowley takes out a vial of his blood and tosses it to you. You catch it easily and stare at it, looking at him suspiciously.
“Just like that?”
“I’m a model of efficiency.”
“Is that right? Then why were you late?”
“Dick had me in a devil trap. He’s not an idiot. He knows what you three are after.”
“What did he offer you?” you ask, pocketing the blood so he can’t take it from you.
“A fair deal in exchange for giving you the wrong blood. It’s demon, but is it mine?” He pauses for dramatic effect, but you’re not in the mood for it. “It’s my blood. Real deal.”
“Why should we trust you?”
“Good God, don’t. Never trust anyone. A lesson I learned from my last business partner,” Crowley sighs, looking at Castiel. “Oh, bonus. Meg, I’m gonna scoop you up, take you home, and roast you till you’re jerky.” Castiel feels protective over her and advances to Crowley, but he holds his hands up. “But not… yet. Cas can have you for now. Hilariously, it seems he’d be upset at losing you. The boys and Y/N need Cas to get Dick. Don’t they, Cas?”
“Oh, I–I don’t fight anymore,” the angel stutters.
“Come on. Given the particulars of your enemy, sadly, you’re vital.”
Crowley winks at you before disappearing, and oddly, Meg is gone too. You take the blood out and look at it, tossing it to Dean who catches it.
“Well, one thing’s for sure–we only get one shot.”
“You know this thing doesn’t reload, right? Dick won’t let us kill him twice.”
“Yeah, I know. You think Crowley’s double-crossing us?” Sam asks.
“You’ve got to figure who he wants dead more–us or Dick.”
“Depends what Dick offered. Here we go.”
Sam takes the righteous bone and places it in a different bowl, turning to another one where the blood is going to go. He pours Castiel’s blood in, then the Alpha’s, and finally Crowley’s. He takes the bowl of blood and holds it over the righteous bone.
“Uh, there’s no magic words. We just… just go.”
“Alright then.”
Sam pours the blood over the bone, but nothing happens when he does so. You’d figure lightning or thunder would happen, but nothing is.
“Where are all the thunder and lightning?” Dean asks, thinking of the same thing.
“Maybe it worked?”
“Awesome.”
You hear the sound of angel wings before you feel the touch of someone’s hand on your shoulder. You turn and see Castiel standing there holding a plate of sandwiches.
“So, none of this should cause you any ill effects. I went to a little farm in Normandy for the wheat and the lettuce and tomato, and I thoroughly examined and comforted the pig before I slaughtered it for the ham. Here. You three need your strength.”
“Thanks, Castiel,” you smile and take the plate.
“Cas, why was Crowley so certain that you need to come with us?” Sam asks, not taking his plate.
“Crowley’s wrong. I’ll be waiting right here. Please, accept this sandwich as a gesture of solidarity.”
“I’m going to get ready. We have a big day ahead of us,” you state. You take a bite of the sandwich and moan at how fresh and good it tastes. “Thanks for the sandwich.”
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Summary:When Sam and Dean visit a witness for questioning, they’re surprised to find someone else waiting for them instead. Though they haven’t a clue of who she is, she knows them all too well…
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“Hiya sweetheart. We have a few questions to ask, so what do you say you let us in?”
Y/N looked out the crack of the door, and saw two men waiting outside. The one who had just spoken flashed her a smile as the other nudged him in the side.
She appraised them with a lifted brow. “You’re expecting me to invite two strangers into the house just like that?”
“Dean, be professional!” the taller man hissed. He turned back at Y/N and cleared his throat. “Sorry Miss, my partner is still a little hazy about the whole introductions thing.” He flashed a badge and gave a quick smile. “I’m agent Farell and this is my partner, Agent Hodgson. We’re here about the Riverside murders.”
“FBI,” Y/N nodded. “Come on in.”
She opened the door wide, and let the men follow her into the parlor. She smiled to herself when she heard them whispering behind her.
“I don’t know about this, Sammy. This house is supposed to be owned by a Mrs McGregor. The chick that let us in looks kinda young to be an 86 years old granny…”
“Maybe she’s a relative? We can’t be sure until- Dean! Put the gun away!”
Y/N turned around and smiled sweetly. “Is everything alright back there, Agents?” She sensed Sam and Dean’s caution and was pleased by their obvious discomfort. This was going to be fun…
“Everything’s just dandy,” Dean replied with a bite.
The trio made it to a brightly lit room and Y/N leaned against a table. “So, you guys wanted to talk about the Riverside killings?”
Dean glared at her with pursed lips, his hand shadowing over his holster. Y/N eyed him warily.
“That’s right,” Sam said. “But we came to see Mrs McGregor. Who are you?”
Y/N wracked her brain, trying to think of an answer. “I’m an aid,” she said quickly.
“Funny,” Dean huffed. “You see, we talked to McGregor’s son just this morning, and he told us that she lived alone.”
Y/N looked back at Sam and Dean’s darkened expressions. Both were slowly inching closer to her and teasing them suddenly wasn’t as fun as it was before.
She backed up with a nervous laugh. “Okay, confession time… my name is Y/N and I’m not an aid. You guys are Sam and Dean Winchester, right?”
Sam pulled out a silver blade as Dean cased the room. “How do you know our names?” he demanded.
Before she could respond, Dean yelled out from a far corner of the parlor. “Sam, I found Mrs McGregor!”
Y/N closed her eyes. “Oh crap,” she muttered.
“Well?” Sam asked. “Where is she?”
Dean stood up from the corner he was hunched over. “She’s dead,” he said simply.
Y/N felt her heart race and she held her hands up in surrender. “Listen, I can explain-”
“Sorry sweetheart, there’s no explaining a dead body in your house,” Dean interrupted. “Something tells me you’re not keeping it there for décor.”
“You’re a demon aren’t you?” Sam said, his eyes narrowed. He pointed his blade at her and cocked his head.
“Yes. Well, no! A demon has been behind the Riverside murders, but I’m not-”
“Good enough for me!” Dean lunged at Y/N from the right and knocked her to the ground. She gasped for air as she landed on the dense tile. She managed to push him away as she scrambled to stand.
“You need to listen to me,” Y/N said. “I’m not your enemy!” She latched onto the edge of a table, but felt a strong grip pull her back and knock her to the ground once more. She looked up and saw Sam leaning over her, his blade lifted above her chest.
She scratched at his polyester suit and looked at him pleadingly. “Sam, please. You have to believe me!”
He was just about to swing down his weapon when the front door opened with a bang. “What the hell do you idjits think you’re doing?” a voice boomed.
“Hey Bobby.” Y/N managed weakly from underneath Sam. “A little help here?”
The Winchesters turned in awe. “Bobby?” they said in unison.
“In the flesh,” the hunter huffed, bounding over with a scowl. “Boy, lower the shank and get off her before I get over there, myself.”
Sam gulped and raised himself slowly. He offered out a hand sheepishly and helped Y/N to her feet.
Dean took a few steps forward, his brows furrowed. “Alright, what are we missing here?” he asked. “She’s a demon!”
Bobby turned to him with a squint. “She ain’t no demon!” he barked. “She’s my protégé!”
Y/N cleared her throat and waved awkwardly. “Hey guys,” she said. “I’m Y/N. I’m new to the whole hunter thing, so Bobby has been helping me out.”
“When I heard you boys were working a case not far from us, I figured we’d drive over. Have you two give Y/N some pointers,” Bobby explained. “As luck would have it, we stumbled by McGregor’s home. Found her dead.”
Sam looked at Y/N and quirked a brow. “Why didn’t you tell us from the start?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I’ve heard a lot about you two, I just wanted to mess around. Test the legendary Winchesters, you know?”
“That was stupid,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “Never get on Sam and Dean’s bad side.”
“I think I get that now,” Y/N mumbled.
“So just to be clear,” Dean started, with a glint in his eye. “She’s a hunter, and not some dangerous entity from downstairs?” Bobby shot him a look of warning. “Boy-”
Dean waved him off and squeezed himself beside Y/N, pushing Sam aside. “I’ve gotta tell you, I’m so sorry about what my brother did back there. I still tried to tell him to get your side of the story before going all Ghost Face on you with the knife…” Y/N crossed her arms as Dean flashed her a bright smile.
“Are you kidding me Dean?” Sam scoffed. “You’re the one who was pulling out the gun without-”
“Shhh… Give me a second here, Sammy,” Dean hissed before turning back at Y/N. “Anyway, I know a great little bar not too far from here. Maybe we could go for drinks sometime?” He winked and pointed with a snap. “My treat.”
Y/N looked at him, trying to hide her smile. Just five minutes earlier, he was on the verge of killing her over a mistaken identity, and now here he was, flirting shamelessly. She peered over at Bobby rolling his eyes by the front door, and Sam sulking just a few steps away.
“What do you say we take care of the Riverside case first, then maybe we can talk about drinks?”
Not sparing the Winchesters another glance, Y/N squeezed Bobby’s shoulder and walked out the door. She had only discovered the world of the supernatural three months ago, but so much had happened since then. Y/N understood that life as a hunter was dangerous, but damn was it fun…
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This sort of came to me about an hour ago, so I just had to write it… Sorry if it’s a little jagged, I was in the middle of a study session then *poof* an idea. Okay, back to the books.
Oh, last thing! Their FBI names are from Supertramp…
Summary:Y/N prepares for the perfect Valentine’s day with Dean Winchester…
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The alarm clock blared and Y/N sat up in bed bleary eyed and fatigued.
She frowned at the ringing and reminded herself that she didn’t need to set the timer anymore. The Bunker had been empty for a while now and she didn’t have much to do without the boys around, anyway.
Y/N looked to her right and saw Dean’s side of the bed was vacant. “You’d think I would be used to that by now…” She stretched with a soft groan and stepped out from under her covers. It wasn’t until she checked her phone that she was finally spurred to action.
The screen read February fourteenth.
She gave a small smile at the date. “Well Dean, looks like you’re in luck!” With a renewed sense of purpose, Y/N set out to get her Valentine’s plans ready.
Every February fourteenth, Dean and Y/N would celebrate the holiday with all its clichés. Chocolate, romcoms, and a couple of beers was all it took to make the day a good one. Though their celebrations were modest, the way they saw it, having each other was enough.
Y/N walked over to her closet and put together an outfit. It was an important day and she had to dress accordingly. Once clothed, she gave a weary smile at her reflection and stepped away.
Y/N ambled down the Bunker’s empty hallways until she reached the main room. She fetched her keys, two bottles of beer she had laid out the night before, and a DVD copy of Say Anything before rushing out the door to meet Dean.
A crisp February wind met her outside and she squinted at the clear sky above. Y/N smiled at the perfect weather and stepped into her car. She turned on the ignition and let out a deep breath “Here I go,” she whispered.
Valentine’s Day, One Year Ago
“Though I respect your affections, couldn’t you perhaps ease your passions?”
Sam entered the room and rolled his eyes. “Guys, come on. Cas is right. Take it easy, we ALL live here.”
Dean and Y/N grinned from their spots on the couch. “It’s just a kiss Sammy. Get over yourself,” Dean chastised.
“You guys are making out in our movie room. It’s not just a kiss,” Sam retorted. He and Castiel weren’t really offended, but liked to nag whenever they could.
Y/N shifted in her seat and kissed Dean’s cheek. “Sorry guys. We can’t help it if we’re hopelessly in love with each other,” she teased.
Dean turned around and kissed her back. “That’s right,” he started. “Hopelesslyanddevastatingly in love…”
Sam and Castiel shared a look as the pair carried on from where they had left off. In each others arms and against each others lips. “Maybe we should-” Cas stammered. Sam nodded. “Right ahead of you.” The angel and the hunter spared a last smile at their friends before leaving the room and locking the door behind them.
“I think they’re gone…” Y/N mumbled mid kiss
Dean pulled back and winked. “I figured that would do the trick.”
Y/N laughed at his callousness and moved away from him. She lay down and settled her head on his lap.
“How’s the view from down there?” he asked.
“Spectacular.”
Dean frowned. “Honestly? You usually hit me with a testy one-liner.”
Y/N shrugged. “I’m serious. I’m getting a great look at the ceiling from this angle…”
“Yup. There it is.”
Y/N giggled. “I set myself up for that one didn’t I?” he laughed, leaning his head back on the couch.
Y/N grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed gently. “You totally did,” she admitted.
They stayed quiet for a moment, comfortable in their easy connection. Dean started humming and Y/N listened as the faint tune carried on. She closed her eyes and smiled. “What are you humming?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
He hesitated and Y/N opened her eyes, taking in the glint in his eye. “Mr. Roboto,” he said carefully. “Styx.”
Y/N quirked a brow. “Is that so?”
“Is that a problem?” Dean asked, glancing down at her.
“You mean, is it a problem that you only ever hum the same ten songs from eons ago?”
Dean raised a brow and hummed louder.
Y/N raised a hand and reached out to touch Dean’s cheek. “I love you,” she whispered. He sighed and leaned into her touch. “I know,” he said softly. “And you have no idea what that means to me.”
Y/N moved to sit up. She looked into his eyes and saw him staring back. “Happy Valentine’s day,” she said. “I can’t wait to see what this year will hold for us.”
Dean leaned forwards and kissed her lightly. “As long as you’re still by my side, I couldn’t give a damn.”
With their favourite movie playing in the background, and plenty of sweets and beer waiting on the table, the two hunters nestled against each other and took comfort in the small moment they shared together.
***
Y/N drove past vast green pastures and earthy plains before finally reaching a sparse forested area. She knew exactly where to find Dean and felt her heart race as she drew nearer to her destination. She parked her car and stepped out, taking her Valentine’s treats with her.
I wonder if Sam has passed by lately… Y/N thought as she walked down a woody path. She could hear the buzzing of insects as she hiked, the unlucky few that hadn’t left for the winter. Their humming sounded suspiciously like Dean’s beloved rock hits… Y/N hiked for the better part of an hour before entering a familiar clearing. It was there that she saw Dean waiting just up ahead, the grin she knew so well tugging at his lips.
“How’s the view from down there?”
Y/N felt her eyes sting as she stepped forwards, a shaky smile on her face. “Dean,” she said softly, “you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
“And you have no idea what that means to me.”
Y/N walked towards the clearing’s centre. Her heart ached as she caught a flash of Dean’s laugh. She stopped when she reached a patch of blackened ground.
She knelt down before a heap of scorched wood. It had been months since she’d last been here and the ground was still stained with ash. She laid out the DVD and bottles of beer she had been holding. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” she whispered.
Above Y/N, standing cold and out of place was a pyre. It had been months since she had lost Dean to the vampires and he had been laid to rest. She still remembered the night Sam had driven the Impala home, passenger seat, empty. He had left the Bunker shortly after and she hadn’t heard from him much since then. She winced and cast away the memory, thinking instead of her last Valentine’s with Dean. They had been hopeful then, trusting in their future. He had told her that day that he would be content so long as she stayed by his side.
Y/N looked up to the sky and closed her eyes, reveling in the sun’s soft touch upon her skin. She took a breath and spoke.
I have no idea why I did this. It sounded like a good idea at first but then by the end it was just too late to turn back. Don’t worry, I’m writing another Dean Winchester V-Day fic as we speak to atone for this one. HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY YOU GUYS!!!!
If you’d like to be tagged in any future Supernatural fics, just tell me in the comments… or visit mytaglist! (and if you’d rather not be tagged in ALL Supernatural fics, please specify; EX: Reader x Dean, Christmas with TFW series, etc…)
This is part 4 of Angel Eyes sorry for not posted in ages. But I found this on a flash drive from like 2017 so I edited and thought I should post it. I hope you like it.
Fic Summary: This is backstory to kind help people understand Dean and Callie’s relationship. Sam, Dean and Callie go get tattoos :P
Walking into the bathroom I bent over untying my boots. Kicking them off I stood up and met my green eyes in the mirror. Reaching up to take my hair down I stopped when there was no longer a black string around my wrist. I quickly opened the bathroom door shocking Sam he was behind it and I almost hit him.
“What’s wrong?” Dean asked dropping his bags by the door and walking up to me. I was taken back when he grabbed my arms softly as if I was going to pass out.
“I lost my antipossion charm.” I say biting my lip.
“You what?” Dean and Sam asked, clearly mad.
“I didn’t mean to. It was on my wrist and I guess it must have broke.”
“Great, what are we going to do now? I doubt Booby just has another one laying around.” Dean asked, throwing up his arm and walking away from me.
“Even if he did, who says she wont lose it again.” Sam says sitting on the bed.
“I’m right here, ya know. Maybe it’s in the hotel room.”
“We just got here. I doubt you lost it in the past five minutes.” Sam said.
“Well it’s not like I can just tattoo the thing to me.” I said throwing up my arms and moving to the door shutting it, probably a little too rough., but I hate being treated like I’m five.
“Wait a minute.” Dean says, making me turn to face him.
“Why not get it tattooed. It would get rid of having to keep up with it. And plus its one sure way, no demon would ever get into us ever again.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” I say agreeing. “I always wanted to get a tattoo anyways.” I say shrugging.
“And what if I don’t.” Sam says standing up.
“Oh come on Sammy it’s common sense, to get one.” Dean says lifting his hands.
“Yeah, it’s the smart thing to do.” I say smiling, getting butterflies about the thought of getting tattooed.
“Oh and what are we meant to tell the person that does it?” Sam asks.
“The truth. It looks like some tribal tattoo that people walk around with all the time. The worse case they think we are weirdos but there still going to do it.” I say sitting down beside Dean on the bed.
“Callie is right, money is money. They don’t care as long as they get paid.”
“What if they only take cash?”
Sighing I throw my head back hitting Dean’s shoulder.
“Then we go to the bar, play a little pool and go back. With cash. Why are you so against getting a tattoo?” I ask
“Yeah, Sammy it can be on your ass for all I care.” Dean says laying back on the bed’s headboard making me fall, sence I was still leaning on him.
Glaring up at him I sat back up, only getting a small laugh out of him.
“How do we even know it will work?”
Sighing again I laid back on Dean’s legs reaching back to grab my phone off the nightstand. Flipping it open I pressed 3 it calling Bobby.
“Callie, it’s 1AM what the hell do you want?” Bobby answered sound sleepy and mad.
“Sorry Bobby. I didn’t realize it was so late but I have a important question.”
“About what?” He said trying to be helpful but not hiding his anger.
“The charms you gave us. If we tattoo the symbol to ourselves will that work the same as wearing them?”
“What kind of idjit are you? Of course it will work. Next time you decide to bother me while I’m sleeping make sure it’s a damn good question.”
“Sorry Bobby, just wanted to make sure.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I’ll let you go back to sleep. Good night Bobby. Sweet Dreams.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.” He says hanging up.
“He is mean when he is sleepy.” I say looking up at Dean as I close my phone.
“What did he say?” Sam asked.
“Looks like your getting inked up, buttercup.” I say smiling at him.
Sighing, he clenched his jaw.
“I’ll be in the car. Hurry up.” He says walking out to the car grabbing his jacket as he went.
“I think he needs a nap. He is a little grumpy.” I say looking back up at Dean.
“I think you’re right. Better not keep him waiting.” He says smiling, clearly enjoying this as much as me.
Sitting up I walk to the bathroom grabbing my shoes and sitting on the tub to put them back on.
“Where do you think I should get it?” Dean asked leaning against the door frame to the bathroom.
Looking up at the ceiling I bit my lip, thinking of where a tattoo would look good on Dean. The first thing was anywhere. Shaking away that thought. I thought of where I like tattoos on guys.
“Hmm… Shoulder, shoulder blade, or chest.” I say tying my boot and pulling on the other one.
“What about you. Where are you going to get it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want it super viable. Like I don’t want to have to worry about people being like what’s that?”
“I think you should get it on your ribs.” Dean says as I finish tying the other boot.
“Why the ribs. That’s the worse place to get a tattoo.” I say standing up and walking out of the bathroom, feeling Dean follow me.
“Well one because it’s hot and two I know you can take the pain.” He says making blood rush to my cheeks.
“Is that so?” I ask turning to face him, a smirk finding my lips.
I almost smack myself for how flirty that sounds but it’s hard not to when you have Dean in front of you.
“Yeah. You’re kinda a badass.” He says smirking and winking at me.
I laugh softly, him joining me. Rolling my eyes I shake my head a little.
“Maybe.” I say walking to the door, stepping out into a soft sprinkle.
“Rain!” I say smiling up at the sky loving the cool drops on my heated cheeks.
“What was about not being five?” Dean asked behind me and pinched my side, making me jerk a little.
“Shut up.” I say sticking my tongue out at him, earning a laugh.
I jump when Baby’s horn goes off. Looking at Dean’s price postion I see Sam sitting in the front seat looking like a parent who just cought his child having sex.
“Again, I repeat, grumpy.” I say looking back at Dean and stepping off the curb to get into the car.
“Why not bug him a little more.” Dean says opening the driver door for me.
Taking the hint I get in and move to the middle, Sam clenching his jaw making me laugh.
“Oh don’t be so grumpy. It’s only a little seat sharing.” I say poking his hard jaw.
“Just can we get this over with?”
“Damn Sam, Bobby is not the only one that’s mean when he is tired.” Dean says starting the car backing out.
“I just want to get this done so I can take a shower and get a few hours in before I have to get up in the morning.”
“Hey, you’re the one who wants to run before dawn.” I say shrugging.
One look from Sam is enough to make me shut up and hold up my hands as a surender. I lean into Dean to get away from Sam before he bursts a blood vessel. Feeling bad for now getting up front, for wanting to bug him more.
Maybe feeling the same or seeing Sam’s face. Dean lays his arm over my shoulders and pulls me closer to him, giving Sam as much space as he can get with all of us up front. Leaning into Dean’s side I close my eyes and just listen to the rain picking up and hitting the Impala’s roof. Moving his arm down, I shift slightly laying my head on Dean’s shoulder, feeling completely relaxed. No not relaxed. At home.
When Dean’s neck starts vibrating with him humming I let myself enjoy it till the point of my eyes don’t want to stay open anymore.
I softly smack Dean’s chest, making him stop.
“What was that for?” He asks sounding shocked.
“You’re making me fall asleep.” I say a yawn leaving my mouth, making a laugh leave Dean’s.
“Dean, maybe we should go back to the motel. Let Callie sleep.”
“Oh your not getting out of this that easy, buttercup.” I say sitting up and looking at him, making me slightly dizzy but I ignore it, it fading quickly.
“Yeah, because we are here.” Dean says pulling into the parking lot of a tattoo and piercing shop.
Getting out of the car, I quickly follow Dean to escape the picking up rain.
“Welcome. What can I do for you?” Asks the tattooed bearded main at the front desk.
“Hi, we’re looking to get a tattoo. We heard this was the place to come.” Dean says, making the man laugh.
“Well that’ll be right. I’m Chet, nice to meet you.” Chet says holding out his hand to Dean.
“Dean.” He says taking it.
“And you Miss?” He asks looking down at me.
“Callie.” I say waving and smiling.
“And the tall fella?” He asks looking over me at Sam.
“Oh that sour thing is my little brother Sammy. Sammy come say hi.” Dean says waving him over.
“It’s Sam.” He says holding his hand out to Chet.
“Well, nice to meet you folks. So like I said before, what can I do for you?”
“We all three want this.” Sam says handing Chet a piece of paper with the simbel roughly graw on it.
“You draw this yourself?” Chet asks, taking the picture and looking down at it stroking his beard.
“Yeah, I did. Look, not to be rude, but can we hurry this up I would really like to get some sleep.” Sam says, looking tired.
“Well just slow down there a minute.” Chet says not even the least bit surprised with Sam’s mood.
“How big are you three talking? Because if you want something huge It’s going to be more than one trip. Plus you have how are you going to pay and where you want it at.”
“No bigger than three inches.” I say getting an agreement from both the boys.
“Altight. That will be 75 each. That’s without color.”
“You take credit?” Dean asks.
“Yes, sir we do.”
“Well, let’s do this.” Dean says, pulling out his wallet and handing him his card.
I’m a little surprised when he doesn’t look at it or ask for ID.
“Alright, well let me go draw this up and you three can talk about where you want it and who goes first.” Chet says taking the picture Sam drew and walking in the back.
“Sam you can go first.” I say sitting on one of the black leather couches, Dean sitting beside me.
“Why do I go first?” Sam asks sitting in a plastic chair across from us.
“Because you won’t have to wait you can go out and sleep in the car while we get ours done.” I say like it’s obvious.
“Okay sure, whatever.”
“Man he really is tired.” Dean says laying his arm on the back of the couch.
“Yeah, well it will be over soon and we will never have to worry about it again.” I say smiling up at Dean, because I would probably just get a glare from Sam.
On the note I could feel his death glaze burn a hole in my head.
“So did you decide where you are going to get yours?” I ask, whoever wants to answer.
“I’m working on it.” Dean says winking at me, making me roll my eyes.
“What about you Clauda?” Sam asks
“Still thinking.” I say biting my trying to think of where would be the best place.
All three of us fall into a comfortable silence waiting on Chet. He returns around thirty minutes later.
“Alright I got everything all set up. So who is going first.”
Both me and Dean pont to Sam.
“Alright, son, follow me back.” Chet says holding the beads hanging over the door out of Sam’s way.
“Be nice!” I say getting a Yeah, Yeah and a wave from him.
Chet laughs and walks thru the door with Sam in front of him.
“So, you really don’t know where you are getting yours?” Dean asks looking down at me.
“No, everywhere I think don’t seem right.” I say biting my lip.
“I have an idea.” Dean says.
“Oh gosh.” I say covering my face, slightly worried.
“Well at least hear me out first.”
“Okay fine, fine. What is your idea?” I ask, looking up at Dean to meet bright green eyes.
“You pick for me and I pick for you.” He says shrugging.
“That way if we can get an outsider’s thoughts on it.”
Smiling, I nod my head.
“You know I really like that.” I say, saying exactly how I felt.
“See and you didn’t trust me.”
“Oh, I trust you. I trust you get me into trouble by putting it on my forehead.”
Laughing Dean ran his hand down his face.
“I was thinking more your cheek but if that’s what you want to go with, its your face darlin’.” He says pulling me closer to him and tickling me softly.
Giggling I push his hands away, just as Chet and Sam walk out.
“Well that was fast.” Dean says, sounding halfway disappointed.
“Yeah, I’ll be out in the car.” Sam says doing just that.
“Alright who’s next.”
“Me!” I say standing up and walking over to Chet.
“You gonna bring your boyfriend with you?” Chet asks nodding at Dean.
Blushing at the boyfriend comment, I ignore it and turn to face Dean feeling dumb since he is picking the spot for the tattoo.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes!” I say running to him and grabbing his forearm just to pull him up from his seat.
I hear Chet laugh behind us making me wonder exactly what life he thinks we have.
Following him back into the other room, Dean laces his fingers with mine making me smile up at him. He quickly returns it making my stomach do flips.
“Room three.” Chet gestures to the last door.
Dean quickly takes the lead pulling me behind him. When we step into the room I can help the rush I get when I see the chair with the gun beside it.
“You okay?” Dean asks looking down at me.
“Yeah, why?” I ask, confused as why he would ask that.
LIfting our joined hands he lets go to show me how my hand is shaking.
“Oh. They’re the good kind. Here feel my heart.” I say taking his hand and placing it to my chest before I can think.
Realizing what I did I feel myself blush a little but I keep his hand there. He is my “boyfriend” after all.
Smiling Dean moves his hand up to my neck, pulling me to him to kiss my forehead.
“One hell of an adrenaline rush huh?” Dean asks moving so Chet can get to his spot beside the chair.
“So do we know where we want it?” Chst asks when he sets down.
“He does.” I say pointing to Dean and moving back a little.
“Oh, alright what’ll it be son?” He asks looking up at Dean.
“She wants it on her rib. Here.” Dean says placing his hand on my right side just under my bra strap.
“And you’re okay with that?” Chet asks looking at me, making eye contact. I guess to see if I’m lying.
“Yes, it’s perfect.” I say telling the truth.
Feeling all at once how I could not picture it anywhere else.
“Alright well take a seat, I’ll fix the chair once you’re on it. Dean there is a stool in the hall if you want to grab it so you have somewhere to sit.”
“Alright.” He says walking out of the room quickly returning since the stool was just outside the door.
“Is this your first tattoo?” Chet asked, fixing the chair so he could reach my rib easily.
“Yep.” I say popping the P getting comfortable on my left side.
“Well let me tell you it’s going to hurt a lot.”
“She can take it.” Dean says sitting on the stool my face becoming even with his belly.
“Well just let me know if you need to take a break. Don’t worry though I got 20 years under my belt. Or should I say gun. You’re in good hands.”
“Thanks Chet.” I say smiling at him and laying my head on my left arm, my other one laying in front of me.
“Lift your shirt for me please.” Chet says.
“I got it.“ Dean says before I can even move. Pulling my shirt up I feel as if it’s in slow motion but maybe that’s just because I’m suddenly very aware of how many scars I have on my stomach and hips.
I realize that it’s not Dean seeing them, it’s Chet. I can hear the questions now. But they never come. Instead I feel something like paper being stuck to my sink.
"So you from around here?” Chet asked, one of us.
“No. Road trip. She got it in her head that we all should get tattoos.”
“Hey! It’s for a good reason.” I say sticking my tongue out at Dean even though he is not eye level with me. Well he is never eye level with me.
“About that if you don’t mind me asking. Your brother said something about it being in the family. He didn’t make much since. He was not in a chatty mood.
"Yeah, it’s been in his family for years. All the way back to the tribes. The people believed that it could keep you from getting posed.” I say smiling a “what the hell smile”.
“Oh thats a new one.”
“Yeah, but like I said she got it in her head. So it had to be done. But at the end of the day it’s a badass tattoo.”
“That it is.” Chet said starting up the gun making a buzz fill the room.
“Ready?” He asked from behind me.
“Ready.” I say as Dean seems to shrink down to my level. Him pulling the lever on the bottom of the stool. He still has to bend down a little to be eye to eye with me but that’s better than nothing.
When the needle of the gun first touched my skin it felt like I was being punched so hard it made my ribs brake. Groning I clenched my jaw and grabbed onto the nearest thing which happened to be Dean’s forearm.
“Are you okay?” Chet asked, pulling the gun from me.
“Yes” I say closing my eyes and groaning again.
“Man that hurts worse than getting sticked up.” I say taking a deep breath thru my nose and blowing it out of my mouth.
“Should I keep going?”
“Yeah, keep going.” I say moving my hand to Dean’s.
Feeling the pain again I bit my lip so I didn’t make a noise. It still hurts but this time I knew what to expect. It felt like someone was digging a white hot nail down my side.
After a minute it slowly turned into a dull pain as my skin in that spot went numb.
“Dean is it?”
“Yeah.” Dean says pushing my raven hair off my face.
“You got a keeper. Never have I ever seen a first timer get a tattoo on their ribs and be this quiet or still.”
“Yeah, she is good at that.”
Laughing I moved my right arm over my head and looked down as best as I could watching Chet wipe away ink from my side.
Smiling at the butterflies again I laid my arm back down. Dean laying his hand on the back of mine lacing his fingers through mine.
“That scar on her hip. I walked in on her sewing it up herself.” Dean said, sounding almost like he was bragging.
“Yeah and you should have heard the ear full I go for it.” I say, smiling softly, my eyes closed.
It seemed to help with the pain, the less I talked. So that’s what I didn’t do. I lay there listening to Dean and Chet talk about me and what happened so I had to get sewn up. Dean came up with the lie that I was a nurse in afghanistan. That’s where we met, that’s where the scar he was talking about came from. If only it was that noble. When really it came from breaking up a bar fight between Dean and some dude hitting on me very, very hard. To the point I almost stabbed him. Dean did walk in on me sowing up and I did get an ear full. But it was not just him telling me how I should not have tried to break up the fight. Or sow myself up.
It had a mix of the crystal green his eyes get when he is hurting. It didn’t take two glances to see that he was mad at himself more than me. He thought it was his fault.
Always dose.
“Callie you alright?” Dean asks, making me open my eyes and look up at him, a yawn leaving my mouth.
“Well I guess that answers my question.” Chet said laughing.
“What?”
“I thought you passed out of something. I told him you were fine but he wanted to be sure.”
“No, yeah, I’m okay. Just listening to you talk. Your voice is relaxing.” I say smiling up at him, making him scratch the back of his head telling me I embarrassed him which didn’t happen often.
“Well you’re halfway done. So finish your nap.” Dean says, trying to laugh it off.
“Thanks.” I say smiling and closing my eyes.
Lucky me Chet started another conversation with Dean about what all he has hunted.
He went on about telling him something about a bear which I think was one of the werewolves we have killed or maybe a windigo.
“Alright, you are done.” Chet said, turning off everything.
“Can I see?” I ask sitting up a little. An ache in my side.
“Let me clean you up first.”
Nodding I layed back on the chair and poked Dean’s chest making him look down at me.
You could hear the hustle and bustle of the many bodies that took up the large conference room before you even made it to the door. So many people talking and laughing, and you knew that your fake smile and laugh would be joining them soon.
With a squeeze of his arm, Dean had you looking up at him. He shot you a wink and started pulling you into the room without you saying if you were ready or not. He knew you weren’t, and he knew you may never be, so he was jumping into the shark tank head first while pulling you along with him.
A lot of the people you could see right off the bat were just distant aunts, uncles and cousins. People you really didn’t talk to, even at these things. They kept to their own circle while you tried to avoid yours. Out of everyone in that room there were only a few that you knew you would see this week, because it was the same few that you see every time.
Of course, there was your mom. The queen of it all and the one you wished you could hide from the most. There was your step dad that you adored. He definitely related to you more than anyone else there and you actually looked forward to seeing him every time these things came around.
Then there was your cousin, Jackie. She was your best friend and the one you could turn to about anything, includingfamily. She never ratted you out and you two were like your own little circle within a circle.
But then that brought you to your aunt Tanya and her daughter Hannah. They were set on a peg just below your mom. They were rich bitches and they always gloated. It was sickening. You honestly didn’t know which was worse sometimes, your mom or those two. If you could just avoid all three, that’d be great.
The further the two of you moved into the room, the more you felt your heart rate rise. The quartz floors sparkled as you stepped across it and the noise from the rest of the family was making you feel so small because you already knew how they saw you. Then you imagined your mom walking up to the two of you, and that just made everything crumble.
“Dean, wait.” you locked your arm in place, bringing him to a stop.
“What?” he asks as you just stand there, your eyes scanning the full room. He can see the panic in your face, your cheeks flushing.
“I can’t do this.” you finally whisper, your body turning to face him as your eyes struggle to look away from the reunion of people.
“Y/N…”
“I can’t!” you quietly cry out so that no one else notices that you’re there yet. “They’ll see right through this. My mom will see right through this and it’ll be a disaster. They are so judgmental and I just…I can’t…” Before you can even register what’s going on, Dean has pulled you a little closer and attached his lips to yours. Then his free hand meets the side of your face before he pulls away and you can do nothing but just stare at him.
“Let them judge.” A shaky breath finally leaves you and yet you can still feel his lips on yours. Like an aftershock that just won’t quit. “I need you to trust me, Y/N. Because if you don’t, you’re right, it won’t work.”
“Y/N!?” You hear your name being called from across the room before you can even begin to pull yourself back from that kiss let alone tell Dean that you trust him. Or at least tell him that you’re trying to.
“Y/N! Oh my God!” You turn just as your cousin Jackie runs up to you, an empty glass in her hand as she goes to swing her arms around you. “I’m so glad you’re here!” she squeezes you tight before pulling away, her arms still wrapped around you. “I thought you said you weren’t coming this time?”
“No. I said I mightnot be coming.”
“Oh. Well, I’m so glad you did because I missed you so much!” she cried as she pulled you back into a bone crushing hug. It wasn’t until she pulled away again that she even glanced in Dean’s direction, but once she saw him, she was awestruck.
“And who is this?” she breathes as she finally lets you go and you can’t help but chuckle at her reaction. Her eyes are locked on Dean like he’s the only one in the room and she’s practically drooling over him.
“Jackie, this is Dean. Dean, my cousin, Jackie.” you introduced, your hand gesturing between them while they stepped forward and Dean took her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“Oh, trust me…the pleasure’s allmine.”
“Jackie!” you scolded quietly, but you didn’t miss the grin on Dean’s face.
“Sorry.” she breathed again; probably the only breathing she was able to do at the moment, then she stepped back, curling the hand that Dean just had in his. “I uh…I need to top off my drink so…I’ll just leave you two alone.” She had to rip her eyes away from your date and when she locked gazes with you, she winked.
“So, that’s Jackie.” Dean states as you both watch your cousin walk away.
“Yeah. She’s great. The only one here other than my dad that I can trust with anything and who doesn’t stab me in the back.”
“Good to know.”
“There’s my princess.” Dean watched your smile grow before you turned away from him again, this time to greet an older gentleman. But the only thing that tipped him off that he was older was the gray in his hair, otherwise he was aging very well.
“Dad.” you seem to sigh in relief as you fall into his embrace.
“How are you, sweet pea?”
“I’m good.” you whisper to him before pulling away, and that’s when the man locked eyes on Dean.
You had told Dean that your step dad was in the army and with his own dad having a similar background, he made sure to stand straight and make eye contact when he looked at him.
“You didn’t tell me that you’ve been seeing someone, Y/N.”
“I know. I’m sorry, dad, it’s just been…”
“Nice to meet you sir.” Dean greets as you struggle to finish your sentence. He leans forward and takes your dad’s hand, giving it a nice firm shake.
“Good to meet you…”
“Dean.”
“Dean.” your dad repeats softly, letting his eyes rake over your date. “Military man?”
“No, sir. But my dad was.”
“Oh yeah? Where was he?”
“Marine Corps. Corporal.”
“Nice.” You smile when you see that your dad’s impressed. Not that you thought he wouldn’t be, but he also wasn’t the one to please here. At least, not the only one. “So, how long have you two been together?”
“Just about two months now.” you answer, giving Dean a bit of a break.
“Not too long then.” he says, glancing at you before locking eyes with Dean again. “Very bold of you to show up to a reunion where you’re going to meet her entire family.”
“Yeah, well…” Dean slid his arm around your waist and smiled down at you. “I know she didn’t want to come alone and I just want to make sure she’s happy.” Your dad’s smile grew as he looked between the two of you.
“I’m liking you already.”
“There she is!” The tender moment is interrupted by a familiar high voice, and though you know who it is, you wait until your eyes confirm it.
“Oh god…” you breathe, turning into Dean a bit before your mom’s hands are on your cheeks and she’s placing rough kisses all over your face.
“Oh my girl!” her hands flatten against your cheeks, practically squishing your face. “Hmm.” and here it comes…
The way she tilts her head and looks you over, you know that she’s found something that she can pick fun at. You’re just waiting to hear it.
As her right hand slides down under your chin, she pats your jaw a few times before that infamous disappointed look in her eyes makes its appearance.
“Oh, honey. It looks like you’ve gained a little weight.” You try to hold in your irritation when she lets go of you, but that’s when she sees Dean. This is going to be terrible, is all that you had going through your head. You just wanted to grip onto Dean’s hand and run for the exit.
“Oh…” her eyes rake over your date and though this entire relationship is fake, you still feel this twist in your gut that makes you want to throw up. You couldn’t believe it. Your own mother was checking out your boyfriend. Not that it surprises you, but it still bothers you nonetheless. “And who are you?”
“Mom…” Turning into Dean’s left side and wrapping your arms around him, he follows your lead and holds you close, his hand visible on your waist. “This is my boyfriend. Dean.” It shouldn’t have surprised you, but it still hit deep when she started to laugh.
“You…no. There is no way that you are dating my daughter.” Dean can feel your hand shaking against his side and to calm you, he reaches his right hand over and holds yours firm against his body, keeping his smile as he looks away from you and up to your mother.
“Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I amdating your daughter.” Her eyes slide back and forth between the two of you for a moment before she has to add one more stab.
“Was it on a dare or something?”
“Okay. Honey, why don’t we leave these two alone, let them get some food, alright?”
“Okay.” your mom giggles as your dad pulls her away, but she plants her feet at one point to shoot out another bullet. “By the way…Dean. When this doesn’t work out, you know, the two of you…I want you to know that it was reallynice to meet you.” As she sends a wink in your direction, not only is your patience gone, but so is your dad’s.
“Let’s go!” Your dad pushes, kind of giving her a shove in the other direction. After she’s a few steps away, your dad takes a hold of your arm to get your attention.
“Don’t let her get to you.”
“I try.” He pulls on a smile and kisses your cheek before giving Dean a nod.
“I’ll see you two soon.” It didn’t register with you that you were still in Dean’s embrace. Not until his left hand slid up your back.
“Well ain’t she a gem.” When all you do is nod, Dean pulls away a bit and looks down at you. He could see you absorbing everything your mother had said and saw that it was taking you over.
“Hey.” Pulling on your waist, he turns you so that you’re facing only him now and he presses two of his fingers under your chin to get you to look up at him. “You look beautiful.” But his attempt was shot down. You scoffed and rolled your eyes a bit as you tried to look behind you.
“I’m serious.” he pushes, making you look back at him. “You should listen to your dad. Shedoesn’t know what she’s talking about.” You force your eyes to drop from his again, not caring that he wanted you to look at him. You felt stupid and naïve. How could you ever think you could walk into one of these and actually meet the standards of everyone else.
“Why don’t we go grab a drink, huh?” You lift your head a bit, but not enough that it satisfies him. He just knows he’s going to have to work even harder to keep you on his level throughout this week.
“Come on.”
There were a few greetings while Dean led you through the crowd, and like always, you plastered on a smile and squeezed in a few words, but you were dying for that drink. So you made it as short and sweet as you possibly could and kept moving.
Dean was quick to put in your order as you approached the long bar and it still surprised you on how fast he learned your drink.
“So, what happened to your dad?” he asks after the bartender sets your drinks in front of you.
You look away for a minute, spotting your dad across the room and you become slightly confused on what Dean means.
“Nothing?” When Dean notices you glancing at your step dad, he can’t help but chuckle a bit.
“No. I mean your actualdad.”
“Oh.” Taking the small black stir stick, you let it roam around your glass for a second before getting up the energy to answer. “He uh…he died. When I was two.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Died doing what he loved from what I hear.” you laugh a bit before taking a sip of your drink. “I honestly don’t even remember him. I have pictures and that’s it, really.” Cradling his beer, Dean gave you a sweet smile before looking around the room. There wasn’t an abundance of people, but it was a pretty full room considering.
“So. We have breakfast tomorrow morning and a big farewell dinner at the end of the week…any other scheduled occasions I should know about?” You smile into your drink, enjoying the strength of the alcohol before bringing it to rest on the bar’s counter.
“Uh…not really. It’s mostly a go about your own business type of thing. You get to go around and do what you want, with who you want and just let the gossip circle around on its own.”
“So, I’m guessing before now, you’ve just been…”
“Stuck with my mom.” you giggle as you take another drink. “Yeah. That and my aunt Tanya and her daughter.”
“I’m guessing they’re just as bad as your mom?”
“Sometimes worse.” you admit quickly. “Tanya…she just…” you scoff lightly as you struggle to find the right words to describe your aunt. “I swear she thinks she’s the queen of this whole room. Her and my mom are the ones who usually set this up and her daughter is just as big headed as her.”
“Are you sure you weren’t adopted? Or…maybe switched at birth or something?” he jokes, but there still seems to be a hint of seriousness in there.
“You seriously have no idea how many times I’ve asked myself that same question.”
“Look who decided to show up!” The familiar voice had you tensing up again, and Dean was definitely beginning to understand why you were so tense on the days leading up to this.
He sees a woman walk up behind you, blonde hair, long and slightly curled with blue eyes and an expensive cocktail dress hugging her body down to her thighs. She had money, there was no doubt about that.
“Hannah.” you greeted with a forced smile. “Looking beautiful as ever.”
“Yeah.” she giggles. One that actually makes Dean cringe a bit on the inside. “And look at you. Dressed up in…” she pauses for a moment and takes a step back, looking you up and down. “…you know…I think I saw that in the Walmart catalog when I was at the dentist office the other day.” she laughs and you fight back the urge to punch her in the face. “It’s cute.” You know she’s lying. Hell, the bartender knows she’s lying.
You can feel Dean step up behind you, pressing himself against your back as his free hand finds your waist and you know he’s trying to give you comfort. Reminding you that he’s right there and that you need to use him to block out the verbal abuse.
“Right.” you breathe, taking in a good breath as you tilt your head up. “Hannah, this is my boyfriend, Dean.” Her eyes do the same thing your moms did. There’s a shock, but then they’re instantly eating him up and you can practically see her brain working on ways to steal him from you.
“Wow. Well, aren’t you just a big piece of eye candy.”
“Here you go, pumpkin.” Dean’s eyes avert from your cousins as a man walks up behind her, handing her a drink.
“Thanks.” she whispers to him before turning back to you and Dean, a cocky smile on her face as she looks from Dean to you. “You remember Josh, right Y/N?” You meet Josh’s gaze for a moment before turning a bit in Dean’s body.
“Hey, Y/N.” Josh greets with an almost too stiff expression.
“Hey.” you greet back, letting Dean’s body stop you from running for the door.
“Josh used to be Y/N’s boyfriend way back when.” Hannah spits out with a large grin as she locks eyes with Dean. “Don’t worry. You’ll come to your senses too. Just give it time.”
Not taking another word, you set your glass down on the bar and slip out of Dean’s embrace. He looks over his shoulder as he watches you moving quickly through the crowd, heading for the wall of large floor to ceiling windows and glass doors.
“Hmm. Typical.” Dean hears your cousin scoff out and he sends her a bit of a glare before following your same path.
He hated to admit that you were right. He didn’t take you as seriously as he should have when you talked about your family, but he was here now and to be honest, he was grateful he was. No one deserved to be treated this way. He honestly wasn’t sure why you even made the trip every time it came up. But of course your mom would probably just come and hunt you down if you didn’t show. It was clear that everyone saw you in the same light. Everyone but your step dad and your cousin Jackie. Again, just like you said.
As he reached the doors and stepped out into the warm evening air, it didn’t take him long to look down the way and see you leaning against the metal railing. He weaved through a few rows of tables before coming up alongside you.
“You sure you’re not regretting coming with me?” He grinned a bit before leaning on the rail next to you.
“Meh. But it’d be kind of fucked up to leave you right now.” You huffed out a little laugh, but still hadn’t looked in his direction.
“I wouldn’t blame you though.”
It remained silent for a few minutes after that. Both of you just looked out to the ocean, listening to the waves rolling in and creeping up onto the shore. A light breeze brought you some comfort, but it didn’t take away the knowledge of everyone inside the building behind you.
“I thought you only had one long relationship.” Dean finally breaks the silence, feeling guilty for bringing up such a sensitive topic but was too curious to wipe it away.
“I did.” you reply fairly quickly, your voice as strained as he expected it to be. “It was with Josh.” you admit before going quiet for a few more beats. In that time, Dean felt the crushing pain just rolling off you.
“It was so weird. We were in high school so…I wasn’t sure if it would last or not. But I was happy, and there was always this little sliver of hope that maybe this could be it. Maybe after all those years of…ugh.” you stop to sniffle and wipe away some stray tears.
“I thought I had finally caught my break. But…at one of our family BBQ’s, I caught Hannah talking to him, and she was giggling and…touching him. It was clear she was flirting with him. But he seemed to always brush her off, you know? I thought that he was just being polite since she was family and all that.” He saw your jaw lock up a bit and another tear slide down the side of your face, but this one you just let go.
“But then the following year…I had lost him in the crowd somewhere. Was trying to find him to see if he wanted to help me get the dessert out and set it up.” your head dropped a bit as you and you sniffled a few more times. “I finally found him after about ten minutes. He was up in my room…with her.” Dean’s eyes fell shut as he could practically picture what you walked in on.
“That was one of the last times we had a BBQ at our house and my mom started doing these destination things. But, every year….there they are.”
“I’m so sorry.” Dean finally says, not sure what else he can say to that.
“They always win. I really don’t know why I keep trying sometimes. I mean…when I emailed you I was just so irritated about all the texts I was getting. I told my mom that I might not be able to make it because of work, and she had spread word so fast. My phone was blowing up with texts and emails…and I couldn’t take it. I was hoping that if I could bring someone, that maybe…just maybe they would look at me and for once not have anything to say but congratulations.” Dean’s jaw ticked as he felt the frustration seep into him.
“I’m such a fucking idiot to think that could be a thing.”
“No, you’re not.” he could hear you scoff. “You’re not. It’s not right how they treat you and it’s only normal to want that kind of acceptance from your family. You’re not an idiot, Y/N.” You could feel his hand meet your upper back and he began to lightly massage your neck. But as the two of you heard a faint, “There you are.” in the distance, his hand slid down your back. You both pulled away from the rail and looked over to see your stepdad heading your way with a soft smile on his face.
“I was just about to call it a night, but I had to say goodnight to my girl.” And just like that, Dean saw your sadness disappear and a smile spread across your face as you went in for a hug with the man. “That, and I wanted to see if you wanted to use me as your own escape decoy.”
“He knows me.” you say to Dean after a few moments of just smiling at your father.
The three of you then keep close as you make your way through the crowded room and out the other side. The halls were quiet as everyone was still chatting and drinking away in the large room.
“You two are on the third floor, right?”
“Yeah.” Your dad hit the silver button on the elevator and stood with you both until it arrived. “Thanks, dad.”
“Of course. I know that I’ve had my fair share, so I knew you had to be ready to run for the exit.” The three of you share a light laugh and that’s when the elevator doors open. “You two have a good night.”
“He really does get you.” Dean says after your dad heads down the hall and the two of you step into the elevator.
You never really considered yourself a very confident person, but you had to admit, getting a little dressed up and taking the time to pretty up your face was giving you a chance to smile at yourself.
The makeup was light, but you added a few more touches that you usually wouldn’t. You applied a little bit of foundation, just to give your face that little bit of glow, then you added a little lip gloss. Something to pop your lips a little more, some color and a little shimmer. Eyeliner and mascara were your go tos for everyday life, but they seemed to even brighten up your face more with the help of the others.
Smiling at yourself, you then reached for the earrings you had chosen for the night. Taking the back off one, you turn your head a bit and slip the hook in your ear lobe with ease. Something you don’t always get since you lack earrings on a day to day basis. Just another thing you only do for special occasions.
Preparing the second earring, you could hear large boots taking on the stairs out in the other room. You smile even more knowing that Dean was home and you couldn’t wait to see what he thought of your little get up.
“Hey! I’m just about done, I’ll be out in a sec!” you yell out to him as you slide in your second earring, this one of course giving you a little more fight than the last. But once you got it in, you grabbed the small back piece and slowly made your way out into the other room; your smile as big as ever as you turned the corner because you were overly excited to see him after such a long day.
“Hey! How was your…” your sentence and excitement were immediately cut off when you saw him. Instead of being met with his bright smile and amazing green eyes, you saw his beautiful lips in a frown, his head low and his lively eyes full of confusion and hurt.
“Hey…” Walking up to him, you place your hand along his arm as you try to get him to look up at you. “What is it? What happened?” His tongue poked out against his lips briefly before he was able to look up, and you swear that only hurt you more.
“I uh…I’m sorry, I hate to do this but, can…” he finally looks you in the eye, regret spilling from him as he shakes his head a bit. “…can we just stay in tonight?”
“Yeah.” There was no question, and never would be. Not when he looked like that. “Of course we can.” you say, calming him as you lift your hand to his chest and run your fingers over his white button up.
“I um…why don’t you go and get out of this.” you tug on the lapel of his jacket a bit. “And I um…I’ll head upstairs and order us something, okay?”
“Okay.” he agrees, his right hand coming up to your hip and holding you there for a moment as he dips down and kisses you on the cheek.
You watch him walk into the bedroom before you carefully make your way up stairs and go for the take out menus in the kitchen. Sam and Sarah went out on their own date, so it was just the two of you in the house now. You find one of your favorite places and call them up, putting in an order fairly quickly before heading back downstairs to change out of your dress and heels and into your pajamas.
Dean was in the bathroom at that time, so by the time he came out, you were just finishing up. You hung your dress back up and then went into the bathroom to remove the mask you had applied not too long ago. You were sad to see it go, but you also knew that Dean would definitely give you another chance to do it again.
When you left the bathroom for the second time that night, you smiled softly when you saw Dean sitting on the couch, the controller resting on his thigh while his hand lazily laid over it. He was looking in the direction of the TV, but you were sure by the blankness on his face that he wasn’t paying any attention to it. Moving around the back of the couch, he didn’t even look up at you, which confirmed your thoughts.
Resting your hands on his shoulders, you start to massage them a bit, finally getting his attention. He attempts to look over his shoulder at you, but you just barely get a view of the side of his face before he drops his head.
Carefully, you climb over the back of the couch, spreading your legs so that Dean’s body fits perfectly between them before continuing to work the stress out of his neck and shoulders.
“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but you know I’m here if you need to, right?” He remains silent, his head just dangling as he enjoys the feeling of your hands working their magic. But, then his right hand lifts and lands on yours, effectively stopping your movements.
At first you thought that maybe you hurt him. Maybe he got into a fight or he just got hurt on some job he was on and you hit an injured spot.
“Eddie lied to me.” You lean a bit to the left as you try to look at him, but his head is still low. Though at least he’s looking more in your direction now.
“About what?”
“About Cassies killer.” Your eyes widen a bit, but you don’t truly know how bad it is yet. “They don’t have him.”
“What!?” your shock came out more like a cry. “Why would he lie about that?” Dean shakes his head a bit, letting his hand fall from yours now.
You take that opportunity to climb over the rest of the couch and you slide into his lap, straddling him now as your hands meet the sides of his face.
“Dean…”
“Bobby said they had him. They had DNA evidence and they were so close to getting him.”
“So…what happened?” Now that he was talking again, you let your hands slip down his neck, your nails lightly scraping against his skin as you tried to continue with the comforting touches.
“They lost it.” he nods at your shock. “Someone stole it all. Everything they had…it’s gone.”
“Someone…wait, what?” As if it was like he was hearing it all for the first time, he lifts his head and looks away from you for a moment. “Someone stole it? Like…came into the station or the lab or whatever, and stole it.”
“Yeah.”
“But…how does…”
“I don’t know.” Feeling defeated yourself from this information, you let your hands fall from him, your mind racing as you stare down at his chest.
“But…why lie about it? Why not just…not tell you anything and just…”
“Cause they did get someone.” As you looked to him for answers, he took a deep breath and slid his hands along your waist. “Apparently there were two of them. They caught the guy who attacked her outside the bar. But the one who…”
“Is still out there.” you finished the sentence that neither of you wanted to complete. “Either that, or someone’s covering for the person who did.”
“Yeah.” Now that everything was out, the hurt hit you. It felt like a punch to the gut, and you didn’t even want to think about how he was feeling.
“I’m so sorry.” you whisper softly, your hands sliding back up his chest and up to the base of his neck. “I can’t even…” Dean sighs softly through his nose, his right hand sliding across your arm until he reaches your cheek.
“It’s okay.” his thumb drags along your skin, his eyes exhausted as he looks at you. “I just…I don’t even know how to feel right now.” Your hands slowly meet the sides of his face as you lean in, your lips lightly brushing against his.
“I’m sorry for canceling our date.” he whispers against your lips, his eyes closed as he grips the exposed skin on your waist.
“You didn’t cancel it. You just changed the plans.” you stole another kiss before he could apologize anymore.
“I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“You don’t have to make anything up to me.” With your forehead resting against his, you run your fingers along his neck and up into his hair where you start to lightly massage his scalp. He releases a quiet, satisfied moan and lets his head fall forward even more. You chuckle a little as you sit back a bit, letting his head rest on your chest now. He lets out a drawn out breath, clearly comfortable in his new position.
You keep running the tips of your fingers through his soft strands, even letting them travel down the back of his neck here and there. Dean didn’t seem to mind. He just continued to release quiet noises of agreement.
When his hands lightened their grip on your waist though, you let out a breathy chuckle as you tried to look at his hidden face.
“Don’t fall asleep before food gets here.” His groan this time was a little deeper. Obviously that’s exactly what was happening. “You need to eat something.” you giggle, still enjoying the feeling of his hair slipping between your fingers.
“Then you should probably stop doing that.”
“But I love your hair.” He smiles a little before lifting his head. Your hands slide back along his neck as he sits up; his sleepy, yet adorable eyes looking into yours. You think he’s going to say something, but instead he just leans in.
Dean only planned on a quick, sweet kiss, but the thing is, your lips were a drug to him. The way they moved with his just kept him wanting more. So the one turned into two, then into three. When he finally forces separation, he keeps close as he lets his fingers run along your side.
Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reporter!Reader
Series Summary: Dean and Y/N have been best friends and inseparable since they were kindergartners, leading somewhat boringly normal lives in Lawrence City, Kansas. Now all grown up, Dean is working as a firefighter and Y/N as a reporter until one fateful night changes not only their lives but also their friendship forever.
Warnings: +18, strong language, light to implied smut (it’s an appetizer), flangst, a break-up (YAY ), a mix of angst, hurt & jealousy
Word Count:4.4k
A/N:She’s pissed. He’s sorry. Let’s still call this progress? I honestly didn’t want her to forgive him that soon. Their last fight was sorta the last drop for her. She needs a Dean break – we all need a Dean break at this point…
Feedback is highly appreciated! ❤️
<<15 || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List
One starry night in the Dean Cave…
Y/N hears waves in the distance and wiggles her bare toes in the white sand, the linen hem of her ivory dress tickling her thighs. It’s humid and warm, the smell of salt, sea, and suncream flooding her nose at the next cool ocean breeze. She squints her eyes at the hot sun, and as she gazes around the palm trees scattered on the empty beach and looks down at the familiar dress she’s wearing, she remembers she’s been here before – several times, actually.
It’s one of her reoccurring dreams. She can recall this same beach from her coma days, but it’s the first time she’s having one of them since she’s woken up.
“Hey, there you are.”
She turns her head to the familiar baritone voice that’s always so velvety smooth. She immediately smiles when she sees his bright beam and the sparkling green eyes.
With a few strides, Dean’s by her side and cups her cheeks, pressing his lips to hers. Their kiss is blazing and passionate, his tongue snaking between her pink lips and exploring her mouth, and she melts into his touch like she’s fucking ice cream in the sun. The kiss lasts for a few minutes before he draws back with a grin and she instantly feels the loss of his pillowy lips, a needy whine leaving hers.
“You’re eager today,” he smirks and takes her hand in his, guiding her to the small tiki bar on the beach that reads Rocky’s.
Dean’s not in his usual attire, either. He’s wearing a subdued Hawaiian shirt and fucking shorts. It’s weird because he usually never wears pants that end above the knees.
“You’re just in time. Sunset’s about to begin, and Pamela’s almost got our Pina Coladas ready. Fair warning, though – they’re pretty coconutty today.”
She giggles a little but then becomes confused, her sense of reality blurring. Why is she here? What kind of dream is this? It somehow feels real and not like a dream at all. His hand encapsulating hers feels warm and tangible, like she’s actually touching him and the electricity coursing through her veins also feels pretty fucking authentic.
“De… what-, uh, what are we doing here?” she asks and he arches an eyebrow at her, chuckling slightly.
“What we always do. We drink outta coconuts… or pineapples, depending on Pamela’s mood. We talk, we watch the sunset together, and then there’s a lot of this,” he explains with a smirk and dips his head to her neck, his teeth nibbling down to her shoulder.
She leans into his touch instantly. It’s like muscle memory (which is weird, too). But God, his kisses feel amazing. Every touch of his ignites her whole body and she just wants more every single time he does this. His hands wander down her curves like it’s familiar territory, his thumb brushes her nipple over the thin linen material until it peaks, and he sniggers winningly as if it’s the trophy he’s been waiting for.
“De, stop. Pamela’s watching,” she giggles in embarrassment, her cheeks a rosy-red as she eyes the bartender in her peripheral.
“Pamela never cares,” Dean says casually and tilts his head in her direction. “Right?”
“Nope, I’ve already seen you two have sex on this beach many times before,” the bartender quips nonchalantly. “It’s nothing new.”
“See? Personally, I think Pamela just enjoys the show as much as I do,” he grins and wiggles his eyebrows, claiming her lips again.
Jesus fucking Christ, he feels heavenly, his plump lips like soft clouds, and Y/N just wants them to stay forever on hers. However, the gnawing feeling in her stomach won’t evaporate. Something doesn’t feel right. It’s supposed to be a dream, but it all feels a little too real for her taste.
“De, wait… we can’t do this,” she breaks the kiss and shakes her head, trying to rid the chaos in her mind.
But Dean rests his forehead on hers and locks gazes. “Why? We always do this. It’s our spot. Just you and me, baby girl,” he purrs and brushes a few strands of hair behind her ears. “It’s been a while since we came here together. I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”
“Dean, I-… I missed you too,” she smiles softly and bites her bottom lip, although the wrinkles on her brow haven’t disappeared. “But this feels wrong.”
His eyebrows draw together, worry and confusion decipherable in every crease around his emerald orbs. “Why?”
“I… It feels like we’re cheating,” she says with a thick swallow. “You’re with Lisa. And I’m with…” She doesn’t utter his name as Dean’s look already darkens.
“Right,” he gulps and bobs his head contemplatively for a heartbeat before a smile creeps back onto his face, his fingers caressing the apples of her cheeks. “It’s just a dream, sweetheart. There’s no rules. Just stop thinking.”
“I don’t know, De…,” she shakes her head insecurely, tugging her lower lip behind her teeth.
“I do,” he smiles and looks deeply into her eyes. “I love you. Only you. This is the only place where I can be with you. The only place where I’m happy. Please don’t take that away from me,” he begs, and there are tears brimming in his pine green eyes now. They’re faint, but they’re there, the warm sunlight perfectly reflecting in them.
“I-… okay,” she caves after a brief hesitation. He’s right – it’s silly. She’s being silly. It’s just a dream, nothing more. She’s allowed to have them, so she tiptoes up to press her lips against his. “I love you, too.”
Dean then claims her mouth and only leaves her lips to kiss along her jaw until he reaches her ear. “Good. ’Sides, I doubt good old Nate can make you cum with a snap of his fingers like I can, baby girl,” he coos smugly, his breath tickling her skin before he sucks her earlobe between his teeth and makes her shiver in delight. “You make me so fucking hard, Y/N.”
He nuzzles his nose with hers before he reclaims her lips, but this time, he doesn’t let her go again. His hands trail up her body, his fingertips gently sliding the straps of her dress down her shoulders before the material lands in the sand. Y/N then decides to stop fighting and thinking, her defenses coming down with every layer of clothing. It’s so fucking good to feel him on every inch of her skin as Dean makes sure to leave his mark wherever he can, not daring to forget a single spot. Every urgent touch, every rough kiss, every delicious bite claims her as his until she’s moaning his name like a prayer, a promise of forever being his.
After a few hot-blooded hours of adult beach fun, the two lay intertwined on a little blanket in the sand, the sun setting behind the ocean, their surroundings engulfed in golden incandescence. She’s actually not sure how much time has passed. It’s dreamland and it’s just one forever-lasting sunset, apparently.
His fingers draw loving patterns on her back as she’s lying on her stomach. She giggles every time he finds a new ticklish spot before soothing it with a wet, sloppy kiss.
“Hey, De?”
“Hm?”
“Earlier, you said you’ve been waiting here for me. What does that mean?” she inquires curiously and gazes up at him, hand reaching out to caress his stubbled cheeks.
“Nothing,” he shrugs. “Just, uhm… sometimes I’m here alone and you don’t show up. It’s always nice when you show up. That’s all, I guess.”
Y/N can’t control nor understand it when tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She tries to avert her face, but he notices it, his thumb absorbing the wetness while worry shimmers in his eyes.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? Talk to me, sweetheart,” he lifts her chin softly.
“Nothing,” she smiles weakly and then feels his hand brush back her hair. It’s so soft and sweet and gentle that it makes her want to cry all over again. “It’s just… I wish the real you would love me like that, not just the dream version of you.”
His eyebrows knit together and she can tell he’s confused by her words. “But I-… I don’t get it. This is the real me.”
“No, it’s not,” she shakes her head. She honestly doesn’t know why she’s quarreling with her own mind, but maybe she needs to get this off her chest and can’t tell the real Dean, so his dream version will have to do. “You’re just a manifestation of my subconscious, trying to… God, I don’t even know why I’m torturing myself with this.”
“Yeah, I’m not following… What are you talking about?” He’s certainly not any less confused than before. Although, it’s somehow comforting to her that Dream-Dean is as oblivious as Real-Dean.
Y/N snatches her dispersed clothes and hurriedly slips back into her dress. She can’t be here with him any longer. She’s only putting herself through hell and doesn’t even have a good enough reason to. Why the fuck would she do this? She needs to let go and move on – like Real-Dean has, y’know?
“You’re not real, okay? ‘Cause, real-you doesn’t love me. Got it now?” She clarifies and then begins to aimlessly wander the beach, the fucking annoying sand only slowing down her flight. “Fuck. I gotta get outta here. Is there an exit somewhere?”
“Y/N, wait… just wait, okay? Hold on a moment!”
Dean rushes after her, stumbling through the sand as he hops back into his shorts and manages to catch her wrist, swirling her back into his arms. Her heart is hammering against his chest, and she knows he can feel it too. “Just calm down. Take a deep breath. It’s alright, okay?”
“No, it’s not alright,” she maintains and yanks out of his embrace. “I can’t do this to myself anymore. This needs to be goodbye, Dean,” she states firmly and yet makes the mistake of gazing directly into his irresistible eyes.
“Stop, okay? Just wait a minute, please,” he pleads, the desperation to make her stay swinging in every uttered word. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but, uhm… I know I love you, okay? Is that what you wanna hear? Because I can say it a million times if you want me to. It doesn’t matter if it’s a dream or reality, alright? There’s no version of me that doesn’t love you.”
Shit. His words move her to tears again, even though she wants to fight against it. His eyes looked so damn truthful when he said them, too. It’s all she fucking wants to hear, which is precisely why she can’t trust it. “No offense, De, but… if it were true, every version of you would be with me. If you really loved me, you would’ve told me so a long time ago.”
Dean pensively rubs his mouth, the desperation growing inside of him. “Y/N, look… you got it all wrong, sweetheart, okay? I do love you. I swear. The other me… the real me or whatever… he’s just a scared idiot. Just please don’t give up on me… or him. Please,” he begs and tears are pricking the corners of his eyes. “Please don’t leave me again. Give me a chance to prove it to you.”
“Dean-”
“No, just… please, alright? Please?” He’s insistent and it’s almost charming enough. The puppy look has always been her weakness, and she crumbles like she usually does when he gazes at her like that.
“Fine, I’ll try,” is all she can promise.
“Hey, uhm, can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” she nods with a bit of reluctance. Dream-Dean seems to really want to test her emotions tonight.
“If I-, uh… If I wasn’t with Lisa and you weren’t with, uhm… Nate,” he starts, his Adam’s apple bobbing from nervousness, and she can tell even dream-him hates saying her new boyfriend’s name. Although she’s not sure if the label is accurate yet. She still thinks it’s kind of funny that even Dream-Dean is jealous. Apparently, her subconscious is aiming for a very realistic portrayal tonight.
“If I, uh, showed up on your doorstep and told you I loved you… like the real you… would you pick me?” He scratches the nape of his neck and glances at her with a look so hopeful it reminds her a little too much of Real-Dean again. Her brain’s really working on overdrive.
She’s quiet for a moment and ponders his words, even though she knows there’s not a lot to think about. She’s known that answer since she was five.
Y/N steps closer, gently strokes his cheek, and pecks his lips with a soft smile, “Yes. I’ll always pick you, De.”
With a loud gasp, she startles up in bed and finds herself back in her apartment. Her skin glistens with sweat, her breathing comes out ragged, her heart pounds furiously against her ribcage, and yup, her pj’s are definitely damp.
Fuck.
It’s still in the middle of the night, the only light source coming from the city’s neon signs outside. The alarm clock shows 3:52am, and Nate’s peacefully sleeping next to her while the guilt starts to ruminate in her belly.
God, she’s a mess. Here, she has this great guy lying next to her and all she can dream about is fucking her best friend on a beach. And Jesus fucking Christ, it was goddamn glorious. It’s the best sex she’s never had. Now, she has an unbearable itch to scratch and she knows the guy next to her can’t satisfy that need, even though she supposes there’s no reason to feel guilty. It was only a dream, albeit a very weird and fucking vivid dream. A dream she wants to go back to but realizes she can’t. Some dreams are just not meant to come true.
She closes her eyes again, snuggles up to the new guy in her bed, and soon returns to dreamless slumber.
One sunny morning in the suburbs…
When Dean’s eyes flutter open, it’s early in the morning. He groans and stretches his aching limbs on the couch before noticing his dick is saying good morning, too. The appearance is not surprising after the dream he’s had.
He smiles at the thought of Y/N on that beach, standing in nothing but her white dress and watching the sunset. They sipped drinks from coconuts at Rocky’s tiki bar before he fucked her brains out in the sand. His member’s already twitching in his sweats when he recalls how her lips felt around his cock. God, he wants to feel this every goddamn day for the rest of his life.
The bliss, however, is fleeting once he remembers how majorly he fucked up last night, not to mention Lisa wasn’t happy with him either. She gave him the silent treatment before throwing a blanket and pillow in his face and closing the bedroom door on him. So naturally, he spent the night on the couch, giving the brunette some time to cool down and postponing the uncomfortable conversation to the morning.
His mind hasn’t changed, though. If anything, that dream only further cemented what he’s gotta do: break up with Lisa, apologize on his knees to Y/N, and hope she takes him back, even though he doesn’t deserve it. He practically drove her into Nate’s arms last night, and he supposes every punishment he’s getting now is, in fact, well deserved. It’s his fucking karma, alright?
But Dean’s fucking done with wasting time and playing games.
As Lisa stomps downstairs, he rises from the couch, his mind searching for the right words before he notices the duffel bag in the brunette’s hands – his duffel bag. It seems to be fully packed, judging by the heavy thud it makes when she drops it in front of his toes.
“Look, Lis… I-I’m sorry,” he starts and runs a hand over his face, still rubbing the remaining tiredness out of his green eyes. At least a sip of coffee would’ve been nice before doing this.
“Save it, alright?” Lisa snaps and bitterly crosses her arms over her chest. She then pauses for a moment, shakes her head a couple of times before a humorless chuckle leaves her lips, “You know, I think I’ve been nothing but patient. I knew you were grieving when we met. And I understood, alright? I just figured eventually, you know… you’d be okay… I tried to help you. I tried to ignore the signs, the red flags… like you only moving in with one single bag. In hindsight, I really should’ve seen that one. But you never said anything. You never did anything. And then, Y/N came back, and I knew… I knew when I saw how you looked at her that you’d never look at me like that. Last night was definitive proof of that. So… I’m letting you go, alright? Just take your shit and leave, Dean.”
He purses his lips and bobs his head in acknowledgment. What else is he supposed to add to that, huh? “Look, uhm, I-, I know. I’m sorry,” he states sincerely. He knows he has messed up. “I didn’t intend to hurt you. I guess I was just… really fucked up. I wasn’t thinking clearly, you know? But I never should’ve let it get this far. You deserve better. I’m sorry. I really am.”
She nods quietly and purses her lips, “Well, thanks at least for that.”
While some of the crushing weight lifts off his shoulders, he figures it probably wasn’t the last time he has to say sorry today.
Later…
Dean’s homeless.
Y/N’s residing in his old loft now, and the only other place left for him is his brother’s couch. But things between Sam and him haven’t been the same since their fight. Once a week, his little brother graciously grants him a goddamn hearing over a beer at Rocky’s. Sam hasn’t fully accepted his apology yet, and Dean knows he won’t until the older one comes completely clean. Dean, however, can’t tell him the truth. He doesn’t want pity, nor does he want to be seen as a monster, a freak. So, he supposes there’s only one place left for him to go:
The firehouse.
After clearing it with Bobby, the green-eyed firefighter stores his duffel bag in the shared bedroom and wards off the curious questions of his colleagues. He’s not ready to explain all of his fuck-ups to his friends yet. It’s probably his ego, but he doesn’t want to be seen as the loser who can’t get his fucking shit together. Maybe Benny and Cas wouldn’t even think that, but it’s certainly how Dean feels about himself.
It’s barely nine o’clock when he finally finds his way to the fifth floor and knocks on his old apartment door. Dean’s nervous when his knuckles tap on the door, holding a cup of coffee and a paper bag with a brownie in his hands – a peace offering – while his blood thumps in his ears.
However, as the door opens, his heart sinks to the ground floor. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He hasn’t expected that.
Nate yawns at him in nothing but a t-shirt and some boxers – Dean’s about to die. Seriously, it’s gotta be his fucking karma, right? It’s all the years he’s tortured Y/N with the same damn shit, bouncing back like a boomerang straight to his face.
“Y/N? I think this is for you,” Nate calls back inside and walks away without saying much else, leaving the door open before Y/N comes into view. Obviously, the detective thinks he’s too good to stoop to Dean’s level now. It just makes him hate the guy even more, the scoreboard going nuts in his head. The dude could at least pretend he feels threatened, you know?
Dean -1.000, Nate +∞.
Y/N expectantly gazes up at him as she leans against the doorframe, arms folded over her chest. She’s clearly not amused to find him on her doorstep, but all he can fucking focus on is that she’s wearing the shortest pajama shorts in the history of humanity and a lonely white tank top, no goddamn bra in sight. He can see the fucking outlines of her nipples poking through, and suffice it to say, it’s killing him. He’s swallowing thickly while his dick can’t stop whining.
“What do you want?” she prompts sternly with a clear of her throat. His head jerks up from her chest, ears burning in embarrassment.
“I-, uh, I came here to apologize. ‘M sorry about last night, okay? I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” he explains and scratches the nape of his neck, handing her his apology merch. His plan is to grovel. Really – that’s all he’s got. He hopes wearing his heart on his sleeve is convincing enough for her to forgive him.
“Oh, food. Why didn’t you say so sooner? Lemme just drop my panties,” she retorts in bitter sarcasm and sets the items down on the little sideboard in the foyer before taking a step into the hall and closing the door firmly behind her.
Shit.
“Y/N, look, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that, okay? You gotta believe me, sweetheart.”
She nods coldly, contemplatively chews on her lower lip, and stares at her bare feet for a moment before her eyes find his. There’s so much hurt and contempt shimmering in her irises it’s overwhelming. “Well, I still meant what I said last night. I have no fucking idea why we’re still friends. I mean, whoever this guy is in front of me right now is a stranger. You’re not my best friend. I don’t even recognize you most of the time these days. What the fuck happened to you, huh? Please just tell me what’s going on. Just tell me the truth, for God’s sake.”
“I just-…” Tell her.
Her tone then grows softer, her eyes more pleading as if she can feel his reluctance, and he can tell she’s trying so, so hard to get through to him. “De, c’mon… is there anything you wanna tell me? I know something’s on your mind.”
Thereis. A lot, actually. But he can’t tell her all the things he wants to while there’s a guy waiting for her behind that very door. A guy she spent the fucking night with. The thought makes his stomach churn and his heart twist.
Oh God, they did it in the fucking Dean Cave, didn’t they? Did they do it on his bed? Fuck, was it the couch?! It’s his goddamn couch. If anyone was to have sex with her on it, it should’ve been him. Son of a bitch…
Dean runs a hand over his face and cards it through his hair, his mind racing a mile a minute. “Can I just-… I mean… did you… and, uhm, him?” He swallows as their gazes lock, and God, he’s never dreaded an answer before more in his life.
“That’s none of your business,” she snaps. “And you’re the one who told me to make him wear a condom. He did pay for dinner, y’know? Figured you’d be happy.”
And there’s the knife to his heart…
“Right. Yeah, uhm, guess I deserve that one…” He presses his lips together and rubs his chin, trying to disregard the heartbreak in his chest. “Well, uh, I just wanted to say sorry, okay? That’s all.” The words come out in a mumble as he stares at the old wood flooring that creaks underneath his boots. “Can you please just forgive me?”
Her eyes wander to the ceiling like she’s desperately looking for the answer up there, and then an exasperated sigh makes it past her lips. “I-… no,” she shakes her head and looks him dead in the eyes. It’s painful because he can see it all – the disappointment, the hurt, the anger. It’s all for him.
“Y/N, please… I’ll be better, alright? I’ll behave. I’ll even apologize to, uhm…”
“Nate,” she offers glaringly.
“Yup, Nate,” he nods quickly. “I’ll apologize, okay? I’ll do everything you want me to do, alright? You gotta believe me. I didn’t mean those things last night. I was just-”
“Dean, you should go,” she cuts him off rather harshly, although her voice is drowning in sadness. Her fingers fumble for the doorknob behind her. He knows once she disappears behind that door, she’ll also disappear from his life. He can’t let her fucking go.
“Y/N, wait! Wait, wait, wait…” His fingers curl around the hand that’s holding the brass knob and stop it from twisting it. The movement forced him to stumble closer, her body now almost pressed flush against his. His heart skips eight beats as he looks down at her. She takes his fucking breath away, and his brain needs a second to find his vocabulary again. He still only manages a volume barely above a whisper, “Just wait, okay?”
Tears are shimmering in her eyes when she meets his gaze, “I’m done with the excuses. I’m done with waiting. I think you need to figure out some stuff on your own… without me, you know?”
Fuck.
“Y/N, what do you-… what do you think I’ve been doing for the past year, huh?”
Shit, has he lost her? Has he actually overstepped the mark this time and gone too far? Was last night the final straw that broke their friendship’s back?
She shrugs impassively, her voice detached from any emotion, cold and quiet like the winds of winter. “I don’t know… You never told me.” He feels her hand move underneath his, still tightly curled around the knob, and then the lock springs open. “Please just let me be happy, okay?”
His heart implodes, takes his lungs and dreams with it until there’s nothing left of him anymore. His hand drops, the connection of her touch lost, and his feet take a step back, fighting the gravitational forces that want to bind him there. Dean nods and swallows the lump of agony that’s impeding his air supply. “Yeah, uh, of course… I want you to be happy, Y/N. I really mean it, sweetheart. I’m sorry, okay?”
What else is he supposed to tell her? Dean wants to be in her life, but not as a barrier to her happiness.
“Okay,” she breathes, bobbing her head. “I’ll call you next week, alright?”
“Good… that’s good,” he feigns a smile and hopes to fend off the tears for as long as possible till she’s slipped back into the apartment. Only then does he allow his heart to break.
Part 17
Are you guys okay after Dean’s apology tour? Look, we’re women. We hold grudges. You can bet your ass she’ll make snarky comments every time he offers her food from now on Your emotions can go HERE! Feedback is highly appreciated! ❤️
The reader is terrified of thunderstorms and finds herself stuck home alone.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 718
Warnings: none ! mention of a knife but do you need a warning for that, dean is really just a thoughtful son of a bitch and i need someone like him in my life
A/N:I KNOW IVE BEEN GONE im sorry but im trying to get back on my writing bullshit and here i am pls enjoy this little tiny itty bitty drabble that i conjured out of thin air in the library instead of reading for my philosophy class <3
Lightning flashed, casting eerie shadows across your bedroom. You shuddered as thunder shook the house, pulling your covers closer to your trembling body.
“Calm down, Y/N. It’s just a storm,” you berated yourself. “You’ve killed demons and ghosts, but you can’t handle a little bit of thunder?” You wanted to laugh, but you couldn’t, because it was true. You were terrified.
You were sure it stemmed from some traumatic event from your childhood that your mind had oh-so-conveniently blocked out over the years, but unfortunately, that didn’t stop you from almost crying out in fear with every roar of thunder. Usually, this wasn’t a problem because you were with the Winchester brothers, but you had sprained your ankle running through the woods during the last hunt, and you were currently sidelined, patiently waiting for them to return from their simple salt and burn over in the next state.
Dean had called earlier, informing you that they had finished and were going to wait out the storm before returning. Too embarrassed to ask him to drive back immediately so you wouldn’t be alone with the thunder, you gave him a shaky, “Okay,” and wished them a good night. But that was over four hours ago, and now it was nearly two o’clock and you desperately wished for a strong, comforting Winchester to cuddle with— Sam or Dean, either would work just fine.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, humming Metallica— a coping mechanism Dean had taught you years before— with no avail. You longed for the night to pass quickly, but it was clear that you would spend the rest of the night anxiously waiting for the next lightning strike followed by rumbling thunder.
You squeezed your eyes shut the next time it happened, giving into the urge to dive fully under the thick blankets. Your heartbeat had just begun to slow when your stomach dropped when the corner of your bed dipped. You froze, slowly sliding your hand to grip the dagger underneath your pillow. When something clasped around your ankle, you popped out from under the blanket, slicing your blade through the air towards the direction of your attacker. You would’ve met your mark too, if it weren’t for the warm hand that grabbed your wrist, deflecting your attack.
“Woah there sweetheart. You could take someone’s eye out,” Dean exclaimed, and your body shook from the adrenaline, fear, and growing fury.
“Dean! You scared the shit out of me! What the hell were you doing?” You placed your knife on the table next to your bed, flicking the lamp on before harshly smacking the man with a pillow.
“A simple ‘thank you’ would’ve sufficed,” he grumbled.
“Thank you?” You asked, incredulously. “Thank you for what? Sneaking into my room in the middle of the night, or ominously grabbing my ankle?” He furrowed his eyebrows.
“I thought you would’ve been happy to have some company, but I didn’t know if you were sleeping or not,” he said, his eyes lowering, and you softened at his words.
“Thank you for being here, but you should’ve known I was going to come at you with a knife. Youwere the one who taught me how to do that in the first place,” you recalled, and he rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t drive all this way to be abused and lectured.” He gave you a look. You sighed, and then had a startling realization that he was here. Dean was here.
“Why are you here? I thought you guys were spending the night in Nebraska,” you questioned.
“I didn’t feel right,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that you knew signaled his nervousness. “You hate thunderstorms and we were just going to leave you here alone?” The back of your throat tightened and you rapidly blinked away tears that quickly formed.
“You drove all that way,” you swallowed thickly, “for me?” He nodded solemnly, and your heart burst at the thought of him being worried to the point where he drove back in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm. You threw your arms around him, pulling him tightly against you.
“Thank you,” you whispered into the crook of his neck, and he squeezed you.
Warnings: language, angst, violence, terror, pain, and overall, just a dark fic
Word count: 2664
Prompt: “No one can find you here, so you might as well stop screaming.”
A/N: This fic is for @thatfanficstuff ‘s 5k writing challenge with the prompt - “No one can find you here, so you might as well stop screaming.” Congratulations again darling! Such an amazing milestone! This is a dark fic y’all, so please read the warnings before proceeding. Without further ado, here it is!
Warnings:language.. an incredibly cheesy ending in my opinion aand that’s it
Word count: 1,309
A/N:idk if I should consider this a drabble or not but it’s just based on a writing prompt I found, so I hope you’ll enjoy (if you do please leave a like or a comment, I’d very much appreciate it)
*I do not own any Supernatural characters and/or gifs I may use*
“Why are you so mean?”
You had been living with the Winchesters for the past few months, and the moment you were all patched up was the exact moment Dean started treating you like shit. Commenting on the way you dressed, commenting on your cooking skills, calling you all sorts of annoying nicknames and the list just goes on and on. You had taken all of it all those months, not bothering to try and figure out why he hated you so much. You had tried that once, in the beginning, didn’t end too well. So you just moved on, happy to know Sam and Cas both had your back, and ignored him for most of the time. You had accepted you would never get a relationship with him like the one you shared with Sam and Cas.
However today you couldn’t take it anymore. It had been a rough hunt on all three of you. And yes, your judgement might’ve been slightly clouded. But it was no reason for him to go off like this. To tell you you had been screwing up their hunts the moment you decided to tag along.
“I dunno, I think it’s just my factory setting, sweetheart.” He responded, a smirk plastered on his face. And you hated it. Oh how you hated him for looking so good, his muscular arms crossed, shoulder pressed against the doorframe. For looking so good despite that sarcastic smirk. Even more, how you hated yourself for thinking about him like that.
You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, his smirk only growing bigger. “Am I now?”
“What did I ever do to you, huh? I came along and you thought ‘oh you know what? Fuck her, let’s just make her life as miserable as I possibly can, I don’t have anything better to do anyways’?”
“And what if I did?”
“What if I… What if I did?” You all but yelled. “You, Dean Winchester, are an asshole. A stupid,” you started walking closer to him, shortening the distance between you two, “arrogant,” only a few steps away from each other, “asshole.” Now merely a few inches away from him, you were stabbing your finger at him, looking up to face those green eyes of his. They were showing no emotion other than amusement. As if he was enjoying the show, waiting for what you were gonna say next.
“You sleep with whoever you want to, whenever you want to. You always just do whatever Dean wants. Shutting people out, not giving a shit about any of us! When are you going to start and give a shit!” You shouted at him, pressing your finger into his chest.
You saw the amusement disappear like a puff of smoke. One second it was there, the next his eyes were darkening as they filled up with pure rage. And he grabbed your wrist, getting your finger out of his chest but not letting go as he responded.
“I give a shit! When are you going to see that? I care a shitload about Sam and Cas. Do whatever I can to keep them save, no matter the consequences for me. I care for every damn person we saved and for every damn person we couldn’t save. And heaven forbid I care a shitload about you!”
“You don’t care about me.” You sneered, although insecurity started seeping through.
“Oh I don’t? Then tell me why I do my best not to hurt you when patching you up, why I always make sure there’s some pie left so you can secretly sneak it into your room, why I try not to drive too roughly when you’re in the car because I know you get carsick if I do so. Why the hell would I do any of that?”
“No. No.” You gulped, suddenly aware of how close your faces were. “You hate me.” You stated weakly. “You have since the moment I set foot in this place.”
“Have I really?”
“Yes! You called me all those names, commented on my cooking, my movies. Everything. And you know I could take all of that. But don’t you dare-“ Your words get lost in your throat as his lips crash against yours, catching you off guard and taking your breath away, your now released wrist falling to your side. His lips feel soft and warm against yours and his hands fit like puzzle pieces around your face.
“I-I didn’t. I mean, I,” he stuttered after pulling away, unsure of what to do next.
“You owe me an explanation, Winchester. A good one.” A whirlwind of emotions was raging inside of you. You were confused, shocked, pissed.. and as much as you hated to admit it happy? Relieved? You had felt something for the older Winchester you didn’t feel for Sam or Cas. It had been easy to write it off as annoyance, or hate even, as he was being such a dick to you. But deep inside you’d known it was something else. Although you sure as hell thought you would never admit that.
“People die around me. Mom, dad, Bobby… hell it’s a miracle Sam’s still here. I couldn’t… The moment I saw you laying there on our first hunt, your gut clawed open, clothes drenched in blood, I decided.. I promised myself, I wouldn’t let it happen again. I refused to let you die on me, even if that meant shutting you out.”
You swallowed. You had seen a lot of sides of Dean Winchester but this sure wasn’t one of them, because Dean Winchester didn’t show emotion. He didn’t let people in. And you certainly hadn’t expected seeing it.
“And it was easy at first, y’know,” he continued, “until you decided to walk around in one of my old t-shirts, made those amazing burgers. I tried to convince myself it was weird and gross but there was nothing I could do about the innocence woven around you. Your gentleness… your.. your light. And before I knew.. it got harder and harder to keep you out.”
“Dean..”
“Look, I have no illusions. I get it if you hate me..”
“Dean!” You tried again to interrupt him, but he didn’t seem to hear you, too caught up in his apology, toon caught up in the fear of what you were going to do now. What was going to happen to you now he was no longer shutting you out.
“Hell I would hate me too..”
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” You mumbled under your breath just before taking his face in your hands and pressing your lips against his, connecting for the second time that night. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” You whisper as you pull away, looking him directly in the eye.
“I- What?” Staring wordlessly at you, his eyebrows knitted together and his lips slightly parted. Needless to say the confusion was written all over his face and you could just see his brain struggling to keep up with the current events.
“Let’s just say you hating me made it easier to shut you out on my part as well.” You reply, a grin starting to show on your face.
You see how he slowly connects the dots before a boyish smile breaks through. “But how.. I mean I was-“
“Does it matter? We’ll just have to go from here. We’ll figure it out. We always do. Let’s just start with me figuring out what your real factory setting is.” You winked, suddenly failing to remember everything he had put you through the past few months as you finally embraced the feelings you had been burying.
“I’d be more than okay with that.” Dean wishpered against your lips, smiling, just before putting his hands on your waist and pulling you in again.
Warnings: mention of periods.. if you’re grossed out by that you better not read this lol. Also fluff
Word count:2.5k
A/N:just wanted to take a quick second to welcome all my new followers and thank you guys for all the love I got on my recent oneshot. It seriously means the world to me <3
Also it was that time of the month a couple days back (this took a little longer to write since somehow it’s harder for me to write fluff, apologies about that, but we’ll deal with it) and this came out of it. Hope you guys enjoy
*I do not own any Supernatural characters and/or gifs I may use*
As you sit down on the toilet first thing in the morning, before starting up your usual routine to get ready for work, suddenly your behaviour from the past few days makes sense to you. You’d been craving chocolate more than you normally were and you’d been a bit too emotional for your liking. Worrying about things that were long overdue, your anxiety heightened up to the point you almost had a panic attack, and those weren’t the only examples.
Now naturally you worried about things, you were one to stress about things and feel anxious a lot, but it was only once every month these feelings reached their peak. And unfortunately that peak had started today. Easier said; you got your period.
You sigh, annoyed that it had to be today of all days, although when was it ever convenient, before doing your thing and getting up, washing your hands afterwards.
Both the Winchesters are still sound asleep as you make your way to the kitchen to eat breakfast and pack your bag. The desire to go straight back to your room and crawl back into bed with Dean, have him unconsciously wrap his arm loosely around your waist and pull your body closer to his, almost too strong to fight.
But eventually you make it through your routine, having brushed your teeth, combed your hair, put on your clothes, et cetera, and you head over to the place you work at. Mentally preparing yourself for the workload you’re going to have to deal with and the cramps that are undoubtedly going to show up soon.
A couple of hours later and you decide that you actually made it through the day relatively well. I mean you bled through your pad twice, but aside from that.. relatively good. You’re still relieved when you glance at the digital clock and see your shift has ended, ready to go home and change.
As quick as you can, without making it look like you’re toodesperate to go home, you grab your stuff and say goodbye to your colleagues, saying you’ll see them tomorrow, and then you’re on your way. As you sit in your car, making the 20 minute drive back to the Bunker, you already feel the muscles in your shoulders relax. You briefly examine your nails, two of them having been ruined due to the work you had to do today, and you roll your eyes while an annoyed sigh leaves your lips. Add that to the list of things that suck today.
At least you manage to park your car in the Bunker’s garage without any further complications. You hop out with even less grace than usual, your cramps for the first time today really bothering you, and close the car door behind you. When entering the Bunker, you’re met with a delicious smell that makes its way up your nostrils and you frown. It’s not like you don’t enjoy the smell, but today was supposed to be your day to cook. A while ago Sam had insisted on making up a weekly schedule, the three of you taking turns at cooking, simply because up ‘till then Dean had made dinner almost every day and there rarely was a day you didn’t have burgers. It’s not like you were complaining about that but Sam, being the health freak that he is, insisted on eating salad and other ‘healthy food’ as well. The only way he’d get that done, is to cook it himself. That’s why you took up Tuesdays and Thursdays to make dinner, while Dean took Mondays and Fridays with Sam taking the remaining days. The three of you decided on ordering take-out at least once a week just for the sake of all cooking the same amount of days, that being when you were actually staying at the Bunker. As soon as the three of you were out on a hunt you’d spent your evening and the majority of the night at the café, if you weren’t out ganking monsters.
That’s why it’s not supposed to smell like delicious, home-made food right now. It’s supposed to smell like gun powder and old books. It’s supposed to smell just as it always does. Suspiciously, wanting to investigate the situation further, you follow your nose and make your way to the kitchen were you find Dean, oven gloves on just as he pulls the hotplate out of the oven.
“Hey,” you say, announcing your presence, as you lean against the doorframe with your arms crossed in front of your chest. A fond smile on your lips as you see the man you love handling his way around the kitchen so effortlessly. “Watcha doin’?” you ask.
“Hi,” he affectionately replies after putting down the plate, revealing a perfectly shaped and baked home-made pizza with all your favourite toppings. “Just making us dinner,” he shrugs, taking off the gloves and making his way over to where you’re standing to press a soft kiss against your lips.
“But it’s my day to cook,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulls away and you look up at him, once again unable to repress a smile from gracing your lips.
“I know,” Dean answers. “I just felt like making pizza, thought you deserved it after working all day. Speaking of, how was work?” he asks just like he does every day, never growing tired of hearing you talk about it. Whether it was just you complaining about whatever it was your boss made you do, telling him about the things that went well or the hardships you faced, or just sharing something that happened to or with colleagues. He knew you loved your work. And he loved hearing you talk about the things you loved. He loved the smile and the twinkle in your eyes that would always break through and light up your entire face.
“It was okay,” you assure. “Just fixing up some loose ends for the boss, you know how it goes over there, glad I’m home now though,” you state, not wanting to go into too much details about how your day was.
Dean smiles. “Sounds okay.. How ‘bout this,” he continues. “You get out of those work clothes and change into something more comfortable and I’ll grab us some drinks and call Sam so we can eat?”
You simply nod, pushing yourself up on your toes to press another quick kiss against his lips before letting go and walking towards your bedroom to change into your favourite pair of sweatpants and a hoodie you’d stolen from Dean ages ago. You don’t bother fixing your hair or taking off your make up, telling yourself you’ll do that later tonight. Though in all honesty, knowing yourself, you probably won’t.
When returning you find Sam and Dean already waiting for you, gathered around the table with a couple of slices of pizza and a drink, the same thing waiting for you in front of your chair. You sit down, mumbling a ‘bon appetite’ before diving in, enjoying the perfect flavour of Dean’s cooking skills.
Later that night you’re snuggled up with Dean in your bed. He’s resting his head against the headboard while you have your head positioned against his chest. His arm is wrapped around your shoulder, while yours is wrapped around his waist. Dean has his laptop resting on his legs, the device playing a movie you let him pick. You’re not entirely sure which movie it is you’re watching, aside from the fact that it’s no horror movie. Despite the fact that it’s Dean’s favourite genre of movies, and the fact that half of the time your life literally is a horror movie, you’re not that big of a fan. You’re pretty sure it’s A Few Good Man though, since you’ve seen Tom Cruise pop up on the screen a couple of times. The dude has been in probably a million of movies so that doesn’t say all too much but it does narrow the window down a little, so your pretty sure of yourself on this one.
As comfortable as you are just laying there, Dean’s fingertips rubbing soft circles on your arm while you listen to the sound of his heart rhythmically beating against his chest, you have to go to the bathroom and do your business. You gave up on following the movie anyways. That’s why you push yourself off of the bed, immediately missing the warmth Dean provided you with, as you mutter “I’ll be right back.”
A few moments later and you’ve made it to the bathroom without any incidents. As you shut the door behind your back you instantly notice the new box with pads you always use. That box hadn’t been there this morning. It was the reason you’d planned to go on a supply run tomorrow, after making sure you had enough to make it through today of course. But seeing that there was now a new box that wouldn’t be necessary anymore. Partially you were glad about that. At least you were good for the next couple of days and you wouldn’t have to go to the store in your work clothes. At the same time you are also a little disappointed. Having to buy pads had also given you an excuse to walk by the sweet shop section and buy yourself a bunch of your favourite chocolate and candy. Now you didn’t really have that excuse anymore.
But this meant Dean had to have bought it for you when he went out to buy everything he needed for his pizza today.
“Dean?” you ask after entering the bedroom again.
“Hmm?” he responds without tearing his gaze off of the screen, too invested in what’s going on on there. You can make out a lot of grunts and the sound of people getting either hit or shot so he’s probably in the middle of a fight scene.
“Did you buy pads for me today? Because I swear this morning I was running out so I made a mental note to go buy some tomorrow,” you ramble, Dean looking up, having paused the movie, at the mention of your period.
“I-uh, yeah,” he replies, scratching the back of his neck. You and Dean had been dating for a couple of months now, but your period hadn’t really come up until now. It’s not like it was really necessary or like you felt like giving him all the details. Partly because you weren’t sure where Dean stood on the subject. Guys could be horribly, and, mind you, unnecessarily, grossed out by the monthly occurrence and you didn’t want him to feel awkward. Of course as a loving boyfriend he’d warmed up your heating pad for you when your stomach or back was aching or got you some medicine a couple of times before, but that was really as far as it went. “I noticed we had a Code Red this morning and that you were running out so since I was going to the store anyways I figured I could just.. get you some. I made sure I bought the right ones, I even asked an employee,” he explains, only mildly nervous. “Hope that’s okay.”
You know you should be grateful and awestruck at the fact that your boyfriend noticed all this and went out of his way to get you what you needed, and even without you having to ask for it, but you can’t help but chuckle as his term for you period sinks in. Over the years you’d given it several names, you’d heard different women calling it different ways. But ‘Code Red’ definitely was a new one.
The dumbstruck expression that overtakes his face instantly makes you feel guilty about that though. “It’s okay. It’s more than okay,” you say as you sit down on the bed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “So.. you’re not grossed out by this or anything? I-I don’t want you to feel like you have to do things you don’t want to do,” you ask, making sure to monitor his face and his expressions just so you can make sure he isn’t lying. He was a damn good liar but over the past couple of months you’d picked up on a few little quirks, or rather ‘defects’ as he called them. It’s not like you didn’t trust him, sometimes he just tended to.. bend the truth a little bit, all on your behalf of course. And right now you just needed to know what he was really thinking.
“No,” he firmly says, his tone and expression deadly serious as he looks at you. “There’s nothing to be grossed out about. There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s merely a monthly occurrence of the female body. Yeah you might get a little bit moody or emotional, your back might hurt or your stomach or your head. But that’s what I’m here for. I got you, and I got you every day of the month,” he states as he reaches for your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. You’d watched his face as he answered your question and you were sure he hadn’t lied for one second. Being completely genuine and meaning everything he had just told you. And as you make that realization your entire body goes warm inside, the love you feel for him right at that instant warming you up entirely. And you feel incredibly lucky to have him as your boyfriend.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug, and you can’t help yourself but having to blink away a few tears. Blame that on your period. “Thank you,” you whisper, nuzzling your nose against his neck before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.
“I also got you this,” Dean says, pulling away from you carefully as he reaches for something besides the bed. You hear the rustling of the plastic bag he pulls up before he hands it to you. Inside you notice all your favourite kinds of chocolate and candy and a couple of cans of your favourite drink. “There’s also a tub of ice cream in the freezer,” he adds.
“Dean..” you say thickly, tears once again welling up in your eyes as you breathe out another thank you. “I love you,” you tell him, giving him another hug.
“’Course sweetheart,” he smiles. “No problem, I got you, remember? Is there anything else I can do? Do you have pain anywhere?” he asks, looking you over probably to check if you’re clutching your stomach or back, looking for any sign that you’re in pain. As he looks up again, not having found any, he sees you shaking your head and he relaxes glad that at least for now you’re feeling okay.
“Just wanna lay down with you,” you acknowledge, to which Dean immediately sits back against the headboard again and opens up his arms for you to crawl into. He wraps both his arms around you as you lean down against his chest, getting comfortable, and presses a soft kiss against your temple.
You sit just like that for a while, neither of you starting the movie again. Instead the two of you just enjoy the comfortable silence and the feeling of your bodies touching, fitting perfectly together.
“So Code Red, hm?” you speak up after a while, again unable to hold back a chuckle. “Is that what we’re calling it from now on?”
This time Dean can’t help himself but chuckle too. “’Got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
*I do not own any Supernatural characters or gifs I may use*
Putting down the book you’re reading you listen, suddenly realizing it’s been awfully quiet in the bunker for a while now. Sure, Sam never was one to make a lot of noise, but Dean on the other hand.. he tended to turn on his music too loudly, sometimes unconsciously other times just to annoy you and Sam. Tended to drop things or talk along with certain horror movies he was watching for the millionth time. Things like that.
Normally you wouldn’t think too much of it, figuring het might just be in the garage working on Baby that he’s fallen asleep. But the conversation between the two of you make the silence seem all the more suspicious
He’d barged into your room, grinning from ear to ear and his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Pie,” is all he says at first, making you chuckle. Of course that’s the only thing that would get him to smile like that. That man’s love for pie was insane.
“Yeah,” you answer, reciprocating his smile. “I bought you some when I went out this morning.”
Instead of the usual thank you he shakes his head. “No, no,” he says before explaining. “Pie. I found a recipe for a gigantic pie,” he says while gesturing. Now, it’s not like you didn’t know Dean could cook. Because he could. You were well aware of how he had to take care of Sammy when the both of them were younger and even now he cooked dinner for the three of you a lot. It’s just that being able to cook didn’t necessarily equal being able to bake. Aside from the fact you didn’t have the right oven to bake an enormous pie, let alone the right place to store it.
“Dean,” you start, trying not to sound too harsh. “You can’t, we don’t have the right stuff and we already have pie,” you say, hating how much it makes you sound like your mother, remembering how she’d always tell you she had food at home when you asked her if she would stop by McDonalds.
He had left then, disappointed you didn’t seem to be on board with the plan, and you hadn’t heard from him since.
You stop by Dean’s room first, silently opening his door, careful not to wake him in case he is sleeping. But you find nothing but an empty bed and some laundry you’re going to have to ask him to put in the hamper later.
After that you figure the kitchen is probably your best bet to find him now, so that’s where you go next.
Upon entering you can barely hold back a shriek. The kitchen is a complete mess, the counter is scattered with several apple cores, the floor and table are almost equally white, both covered in flour. You’re pretty sure you see a broken egg on the floor also. And then there’s Dean standing in the middle of it all. His flannel and face are covered in white streaks, pieces of whatever clinging to his front hairs while he attempts to pour batter from one baking tray into another, spilling half of it in the process.
“What on earth are you doing?” you ask, announcing your presence as Dean hadn’t noticed it yet, startling him and causing him to spill even more of the batter.
“I’m baking an enormous pie,” he says when looking up, smiling at you sheepishly.
“I believe that was the very thing I told you not to do,” trying to dodge as many of everything that’s laying on the ground as you step closer towards him.
He grins wider now. “Did you really think I’d listen?” he counters, cocking one eyebrow at you.
Shaking your head you can’t supress a smile either. Of course you didn’t think he would listen, you’d hoped that for once he would have though. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you chuckle.
“You bet I am,” Dean says. He tries to pull you closer to him, but you refuse, not wanting to get your clothes all messy too. But as you focus on getting his hands of your hips he quickly leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and causing your hands to fall to your sides. No matter how many times he did something like that, he could still make you feel like a lovesick teenager. Your stomach exploding with butterflies or blushing just as badly.
When he pulls away again he wipes a finger over your face before you’re even able to react, leaving a white streak straight over your cheek. “Dean!” you exclaim, laughing as he continues. Wiping flour over the top of your nose and your other cheek too. “I’m gonna have to take a shower now,” you say, sighing.
“Well how about,” he answers breathlessly, tracing his finger down your face and putting it under your chin, making you look up. “We take one together?”
Your heart is beating rapidly in your chest, your lips slightly parted as you search for a response. Your brain doesn’t seem to be able to cooperate anymore. “Let’s do it,” is all you manage to bring out, Dean’s eyes going a shade darker before he pulls you along with him, leaving the kitchen be to clean the both of you up.
A/N:bc I think we could all use a Dean to take care of us when we’ve had a little too much to drink :’)
*I do not own any Supernatural characters or gifs I may use*
You didn’t consider yourself to be a bad drinker. Just as Dean, you were able to drink a lot before actually getting drunk. That’s one of the reasons the two of you loved going to bars together so much. You’d always try to get the other drunk first, the alcohol flowing through your veins loosening you both up and making it easier to talk about whatever it was that came up. Sometimes the two of you would make bets with random people, betting on who could down the most shots or chug a glass of beer the quickest, barely ever losing one of them. Other times you’d just drink and talk, enjoying each other’s company.
In other words, you and Dean going to a bar together always ended in a good night. You enjoyed making bets and drinking people, especially the ones who underestimated you, under the table. You enjoyed challenging Dean and, even though soberly you would never admit it, you liked having deep conversations with him. The kind of conversations you could only have after having consumed just the right amount of alcohol.
But tonight you might’ve overestimated yourself a little.
You and the Winchesters just wrapped up a case earlier today. Said case being a nasty witch with anger issues a few towns over. Luckily neither of you got hurt, but it was a case that, in all your opinions, took way too long to figure out. After returning to the bunker and unpacking most of your stuff it, it takes one shared look between you and Dean to make a silent agreement on your next stop: the nearest bar.
You ask Sam to tag along, but he insists on wanting to catch up on sleep, maybe do some reading, so you simply wish him a good night and let him be. He didn’t usually go to bars with you and Dean, but you always asked.
Not soon after you’ve changed into a new and fresher pair of clothes. You don’t spend too much time on your outfit, not caring how it looks as long as it isn’t ripped or smells weird, and before you know it you and Dean are walking side to side towards the nearest bar you know to find, sharing an occasional thought about the case or other random things.
Right when entering the bar both of you do a quick scan of the crowd, making sure there don’t happen to be any suspicious characters hanging around to cause a fuss or take advantage of you once the alcohol kicks in and lowers your guard, before sitting down at the bar, Dean ordering drinks for the both of you.
You make more small talk as you drink your first glass, taking a sip of it every now and then and enjoying the slight burn in your throat the drink leaves in its wake.
It isn’t long before Dean hands you your second glass, grinning. “Dare you to drink it in seven seconds,” he says, challenging you as he takes a sip of his drink himself, knowing full well you won’t be able to refuse. That’s all part of the game, refusing is losing. And you both were just too damn stubborn to lose.
You chuckle, rolling your eyes, knowing just as well this was just a warm-up and a challenge you could easily fulfil. You don’t even bother asking what it gets you. You don’t care. You have nowhere to be tomorrow, except for Dean you’re surrounded by people you don’t know and you’re ready to get wasted. “You’re on, Winchester,” you answer, smiling right back at him. You take the glass and chug its content down effortlessly, looking Dean straight in the eye as you do so. He doesn’t even bother counting either.
You are in for an interesting night.
As soon as you slam your empty glass down on the bar, Dean motions for the barman, telling him to keep ‘em coming before sliding him some bills in advance. Almost instantly your glasses get replaced with new ones.
You take a sip, still grinning to yourself, when a voice speaks up besides you. Looking over you notice two men sitting on the seats next you. They don’t look like they mean any trouble so you just flash them a smile and hum in response.
“We overheard your little bet over there,” he continues. “Are the two of you in for a game?” he asks, his companion nodding along to his words.
You look back at Dean, interest obviously sparked, with raised eyebrows. Silently questioning if he’s in. As soon as a mischievous grin appears on his face you know: it’s on. “What do you have in mind?” you reply, smirking as well.
“Ever heard of a game called Medusa?” he asks, and when the both of you shake your head he begins explaining. “It’s actually quite simple. The four of us shut our eyes, one of us alternatively counting down from three to zero. On the count of zero everyone opens their eyes and stares directly at someone else. As soon as you lock eyes with someone you yell ‘Medusa’ and the person who says it last has to drink. You’re in the clear if you don’t lock eyes but, just a heads up, that doesn’t happen very often,” he says. “Get it?”
You nod, Dean mimicking you, and begin the first round. Even though you’d never heard of the game before, you get the gist of it pretty quickly and discover that you absolutely suck at it. You’d figured that with you being a hunter and all you’d be able to react faster but it turns out you were wrong. It seems to be working for Dean though, he’s barely lost a round so far.
After a couple of rounds the two men call it quits, assuring you that if they ever meet you again they’ll challenge you for a rematch. You laugh and thank them, letting them know that of course you’d never back down from a challenge like that, before they pay for their drinks and leave.
“That was interesting,” Dean says, looking down at all the empty glasses the barman has yet to clear up.
“Yeah you were pretty good,” you remark.
He chuckles, now looking up and gazing over at you. You’ve taken off your flannel, showing off more skin than you usually do, and your cheeks are burning red. He’s lost count of how much the two of you’ve had so far, but he figures you must’ve had one hell of a lot more than him. “Well I had to balance us out somehow,” he deadpans, making you laugh.
“Yeah.. I sure sucked.”
You stay silent for a while then. Both listening to the music on the radio as you silently enjoy each other’s company. You’ve lost count of the amount of drinks too. But you know you’ve had too many to really care about it anymore. Your eyes lazily scan the crowd once more. The room doesn’t look as full as when you entered, but it’s still pretty crowded. There’s all sorts of people sitting together, laughing, drinking. For a moment you wonder how many of them are here just to forget something they’re running from for one night.
But Dean doesn’t give you to much time to wonder. “Okay, truth or dare.” He asks, interrupting your train of thought.
You roll your eyes, not entirely sure if he’s being serious or just messing with you. “Really? We’re doing this?” you respond, but you know you love these kind of things and you’ve already got your answer prepared.
“Truth or dare?” he simply repeats.
“Fine,” you say, rotating on your stool to face him and make it easier to play. “Dare.”
He smiles, the lines around his eyes crinkling, probably already knowing that’s what you were going to go for anyways. Yet he doesn’t seem to have a dare prepared because it takes him some time to come up with one. “I dare you.. to do three shots of Devil’s Spring Vodka.”
“That’s the best you can come up with?” you scoff, almost disappointed that’s all you have to do. Sure, it’s a drink that contains a lot of alcohol, but vodka just happens to be one of your specialities. And Dean’s well aware of it too. You order the shots anyways, waving a few bills in the air before you get someone’s attention, and knock them back easily, not even making a face. It’s a slight bluff though, the vodka is burning like a bitch, but you’d be damned if you let Dean notice. “Done,” you say, keeping your voice as normal as possible while trying not to cough. “Your turn.”
“Dare.”
“I dare you,” you start, wiggling your eyebrows as you let the suspense build a little. “To take five.”
Dean shakes his head in disapproval. “How creative,” he remarks, but ordering and drinking nonetheless.
The two of you continue your little game of truth or dare for a while, the hours slowly ticking by. As the bar gets emptier, you just get more drunk. Without even noticing you start slurring your words, the world appearing to be a whole lot funnier compared to when you entered the bar.
As you reach for yet another glass, the barman stops you. “I think you’ve had enough,” he states, taking the glass out of your hand and putting it behind the bar. “And if you keep on going like that it won’t be long before you’ll have to,” he tells Dean. “You’re done.”
“Aww you’re no fun,” you whine, pouting, but he’s already moved on to another customer.
Dean chuckles besides you, pulling some more bills out of his wallet to cover for both your drinks and throwing them on the bar before he pushes himself of his stool. “He’s right, let’s go,” he orders you.
You cross your arms in front of your chest, frowning. “I don’t wanna go,” you exaggerate, shaking your head and pouting as a little child would when he doesn’t get what he wants. You quickly stop shaking though because it’s making you nauseous.
“I know sweetheart,” he smiles, holding his hand out for you. “But we’re gonna. C’mon gimme your hand.”
Ultimately you give in, groaning once more to display your dismay about the situation before taking Dean’s hand and sliding off the stool. “Woah, world’s spinning,” you mumble as you stand up straight and your vision goes blurry.
“Yeah okay, we’re definitely going,” Dean states, voice clearer now he’s aware of just how far you’ve taken it. Thinking of it, he’s pretty sure he hasn’t seen you this far gone many times before. Especially not when you’re out in public. He’s still not sure just how much you’ve had, but it must be more than he’s had. As he guides you outside, one of his hands still holding yours while the other one is resting on your back to guide and support you, he makes a mental note not to let you play Medusaor anything even remotely like it again anytime soon.
The walk home takes longer than the way there, but Dean manages to get the two of you home safely, much to his relief. He’s had to catch you a couple times because you stumbled over your own feet, but aside from that you’d done okay. Physically at least. Your filter was long gone and you were talking about things he was sure you wouldn’t have had you been sober.
“Dean?” you ask as the both of you stand in the middle of the poorly lit library, Sam having let only a few lights on, still holding his hand.
“Yes sweetheart?” he answers, hardly able to repress a smile about your current state now you were home safely. He decides he actually kind of likes this look on you. Your hair falling loosely over your shoulders, shoulders that, for once, don’t seem tense but relaxed. He likes how you’re not worrying about everything, as he knows you usually do.
“I love you,” you say.
“Sure sweetheart,” he chuckles. “I know.” He plays it off, doubting you’ll even remember this in the morning, but he’d be lying if he said this didn’t make him feel some type of way. He’d been denying it to Sam every time Sam asked or made a comment about it, but he’d had a crush on you for months now. He was just too nervous to make a move on you, unsure you felt the same and not wanting to mess anything up between the two of you. Even though you’re drunk and he doubts you really mean it, hearing you say it was making his stomach go crazy.
“I mean it!” you pout, stomping your foot down.
“Okay, how about you tell me that again in the morning,” he says while walking towards your bedroom, softly pulling you along with him, making sure not to hurt you in the process.
“I will,” you say with such determination Dean almost lets himself believe it.
Upon entering your room you immediately let your body fall facedown onto your bed with a groan, causing Dean to chuckle.
“Sweetheart you can’t sleep in your clothes like that. At least put on your sweatpants,” he bargains, still smiling.
“I don’t wanna,” you whine, turning around so you’re laying on your back. “You do it.”
He hesitates for a second, wondering what would happen if Sam would walk in right when he’s pulling down your pants, seeing as your not exactly being quiet that wouldn’t be a surprise, or if you start asking questions about it tomorrow. But as you add a soft please he feels himself reaching for your sweatpants almost automatically, knowing exactly where you always put them, unable resist and wanting to help you.
So he changes your pants, covers you with a blanket and quickly runs out to get you a glass of water and some aspirin and puts it down on your nightstand. When he’s done you seem to have fallen asleep already, so he presses a featherlight kiss to your temple, careful not to wake you, and moves towards the door. Glancing over at you one more time, ready to turn off the lights and go to sleep as well, but the sound of your voice stops him.
“Please stay with me?” you ask in a whisper. “Please?”
He knows maybe he shouldn’t, not sure whether you’d regret asking it in the morning, but he can’t stop himself. Can’t stop himself from shutting your door, turning of the lights and walking back towards your bed to lay down besides you, quickly kicking off his shoes before he does so. “Of course sweetheart,” he whispers back, getting comfortable enough before shutting his eyes and letting himself drift off.
After you find out you’re pregnant, your relationship with Dean grows cold and distant, causing you to leave to prioritise your growing family. When that drives you into unimaginable damage, Dean has to rethink if he is going to keep putting his pride before his love for you, or be honest with himself for once and all.
Summary: After you find out you’re pregnant, your relationship with Dean grows cold and distant, causing you to leave to prioritise your growing family. When that drives you into unimaginable damage, Dean has to rethink if he is going to keep putting his pride before his love for you, or be honest with himself for once and all. Pairing: Dean x F!Reader WC: 1k Warnings: Fluff. Pregnancy. Nude people.
You groaned into your pillow, reaching out to the other side of your bed and cracking a single eye open when you realised it was empty and cold.
“Dean?” you called, sleepily.
There was no answer, and you pouted at the empty room.
Dean was your boyfriend. Damn, more than just your boyfriend, he was your partner. You two had been together for a lot of time, since you were relatively young, and while it was something that had started as a casual romance, it had evolved into something more.
Now, you were living in the bunker with him and Sam, who had left to give you two space and privacy to celebrate for a few days. So for the rest of the week, you and Dean were all alone.
Your relationship with Dean was something you quite enjoyed. Just like your boyfriend and his brother, you had been pushed into the world of hunting when you were just a young child. While they were a family, however, and close as brothers - which kind of compensated for their shitty father, who was never present - you were alone with an uncle who had taken you under his wing after both your parents had died in a hunt.
Your uncle Gabriel was well-intentioned, and you knew he had done his best, but he wasn’t ready to raise a five-year-old girl on his own, and along with his paranoia, you were always left alone while he was out hunting.
One day, when you were 15 and staying over at Bobby in his place, Gabriel disappeared while hunting a werewolf, and John Winchester found him dead not long after. He was the one who found you and told you about it.
You had met Dean that night, and he was the only one that you remembered treating you normally, and not like a porcelain doll that would break at any touch. You were all in Bobby’s place, and when you had sneaked out of the bedroom that you were occupying there into his yard when you first spent time alone with Dean.
He had carried a six-pack of beers and another one with sodas to your side and sat there, keeping you company while you cried to yourself, feeling a little less alone for the first time in your life.
You had left Bobby’s place that night and spent years living and hunting on your own after that, but your relationship only grew after that.
Since losing your parents - so early that you didn’t even remember their faces or voices - you always felt alone and like you had no place in the world. With Sam and Dean, you had found a family; it wasn’t conventional, but it was a loving family, and it was full of extended members, with Jody and Donna and their girls, Castiel and other hunters.
“Dean?” you called again, pulling the sheets to cover your naked chest.
You heard steps by the door and raised your head, watching as Dean pushed the door out, and smiled when your boyfriend stepped into your room with a tray of food, with bacon, waffles, eggs and many other foods, filling up your room with a bunch of smells.
That was the point that made you frown.
The foods smelt amazing. However, instead of making you hungry, it had a different effect on your stomach.
The moment you sat up completely, your stomach just turned upside down.
In one moment, you were feeling lazily happy.
One second later, not so much.
“Oh no,” you groaned.
Dean started you in confusion when you shot up to your feet, running out of the room stark naked, rushing to the bathroom without ever carrying to cover up. It wasn’t like Sam was even home.
You reached the bathroom quickly enough to not dirty up the floor, and you jumped in surprise when you felt a hand on your shoulder, and Dean pulled your hair out of your face gently.
“Someone had too much to drink,” he joked gently.
You squeezed your eyes in a grimace, moving away from the toilet and flushing it before sitting on your feet, not comfortable with the idea of your naked bits touching the floor.
“I don’t think so,” you mumbled, pushing your hair behind your ears when he let it go. “I haven’t had a drink in weeks.”
Your boyfriend’s smirk turned into a puzzled look.
“Really?” he asked.
You nodded, pushing yourself to stand up.
“We got that bad hangover that time,” you reminded him. “And then the werewolf. And I got that infection.”
Dean grimaced. You had gotten a pretty bad cut, and while Sam was able to patch you up, it didn’t stop it from infecting, forcing you into the doctor’s office to make sure you were alright. Of course, everyone was okay in the end, and you only had to take some meds for a bit of time.
“Spoiled food?” he suggested.
You thought with yourself a little bit.
“Maybe?”
You two had eaten shrimp two days ago.
Maybe it was spoiled shrimp?
“Are you feeling feeling anything?” you asked.
Dean spent a few moments in silence, and threw a look at you.
“Perhaps it is your period?”
Your eyes widened.
Oh, no.
You had skipped a period.
It was supposed to be over two weeks ago, and it didn’t even arrive.
“Dean,” you spoke slowly. “I think I need a pregnancy test.”
Half an hour later, you were walking back and forth in front of the bathroom door while Dean waited inside, leaving you alone to process the answer he was waiting for inside.
Pregnant.
A baby.
Well, maybe you weren’t pregnant.
It was best not to build up your hopes.
But it would be so good, right? To have a baby and add someone new to your little family.
To have a kid?
“Dean?” you called.
Your boyfriend opened the door, stepping back out of the room and looking at your face.
“It’s positive,” he answered, with a look you couldn’t quite read on his face. “You’re pregnant.”
Summary: After you find out you’re pregnant, your relationship with Dean grows cold and distant, causing you to leave to prioritise your growing family. When that drives you into unimaginable damage, Dean has to rethink if he is going to keep putting his pride before his love for you, or be honest with himself for once and all. Pairing: Dean x F!Reader Other Characters: Sam Winchester, Crowley, OC Demons. Warnings: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Pregnancy, Canon Typical violence. Established relationship (and a lot of drama about it,)
Summary:Y/N was never a big fan of sailors, so when a ship full of them dock at the harbor in her town, she’s anything but happy. However, there is one in particular that is determined to prove to her that not all men of the sea are the same, and dedicates each day of his shore leave to the task of changing her mind. Will the green eyed sailor prove his point, or hers?
Rating:15+
Warnings: Fluff, just fluff. .
A/N: *sings* and now…the end is here. This is it guys, the last instalment of Hello, Sailor! Can you believe it? Thank you all so so much for reading it. It honestly means the absolute world. Could there be a sequel? Maybe. We’ll see how that goes. I have idea’s rattling in my head but nothing concrete as of yet. It all depends of if it’s something you want too! But honestly, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart. Love you guys! Hope you enjoy!
I also want to say a massive thank you to my bestie; @deanwanddamons for being my wonderful beta, and for kicking my ass where needed. __________________________
A gentle breeze blew over the diner patio as Y/N wiped down a table that had just been vacated after the breakfast rush. As she leaned forward, sliding the cloth over the surface, the angel wing shell swung back and forth against her chest. The delicate object brushed against her skin and as she stood straight, her fingers came to hold on to it. A smile pulled at her lips as she stood underneath the sunshine, basking in the warmth the golden rays were providing as her mind wandered to the thought of Dean.
Her sailor.
The time they had spent apart had gone agonisingly slow, each day feeling like a week, each month feeling like a year as she waited for the day he would return. As promised though, he had been writing to her. A letter would land on her doormat nearly every day; his scruffy yet readable penmanship the instant indicator that it was from him. There were times when she felt low, her heart yearning for his love like a starving animal craved for a meal, so she would tear open the envelope and read it straight away. Others she waited, the paper burning a hole in her purse as she walked to the end of the docks, and leaned against the mooring post before she allowed herself to get lost in his adventures.
He would tell her tales of where he had been, what his days looked like upon the ship, and when she received the news that he had made the rank of Commander, her chest was fit to burst with pride. She knew she had made the right choice in encouraging him to follow his dream, even though she missed him more than she could possibly describe. Dean would also tell her how his crewmates constantly asked questions about his girl back on dry land. Although, he would never give them the full story as that was something private between the couple, but he would tell them how lucky he was that a woman like Y/N was his. It made her smile to know that he was proud of her, that she was someone who he held in such high regard even after months of being apart. It made her stomach swoop to know that she was in his thoughts everyday, that she was the soul he had chosen to give his heart to.
There had still been no news of when he would return, but the small flame of hope that flickered inside of her never waivered. She still trusted that he would come back, because for the past ten months he had kept his promise. Initially she had the fear that after a few weeks, he would stop writing to her and their journey together would have become a distant memory, a beautiful stamp in time that she could cherish. But that wasn’t to be as he hadn’t forgotten her, and he made sure to remind her of that as often as he could. At the end of every letter, he would always sign off in the exact same way. And no matter how many times she read the words, they alwaysbrought tears to her eyes.
Everyday I miss you more, and everyday I love you more.
Y/N couldn’t wait for when she would receive the news that he was coming back to her little town, that his ship would be docking in the harbor in front of The Daisy Chain. She had been saving up her vacation time for that exact moment, an agreement she had put in place with Donna and Jody. They were more than happy to agree to it, wanting the waitress to finally enjoy her life with a man who she loved. She was so grateful; it was just a waiting game to see when that would be.
The day was warm, and she had opted to wear a loose black and white polka dot sundress, its cotton light upon her body but still, she felt the heat. So, taking a deep breath, she picked up her wash bowl and cloth before she walked back into the diner, grateful for the air conditioning that cooled her skin. She smiled at the patrons that sat in their booths, greeting them with a cheery ‘good afternoon’ as she passed. Once she got to the counter, she lifted up the serving hatch before taking the dirty dishes into the kitchen. She was about to fill the dishwasher, when the sound of her boss caused her to stop.
“Hey sweetie?” It was Jody, and she came to stand by her side with a clipboard in hand. “Could you come and help me in the back? We’ve had a delivery and I just need to count everything before we move it into here.”
“Of course,” Y/N agreed without hesitation, leaving the job she was doing to follow in her friend’s footsteps as she led her towards the rear of the establishment. It didn’t take long to get there and as she walked into the room, the metal shutter open due to the truck that brought the stock was parked, her eyes grew wide. “That is a lot of potatoes.”
At first she thought her eyes were deceiving her, but everywhere she looked there were sacks and sacks of the root vegetable. Carrots, green beans and things such as bread rolls were also mixed in but they were few and far between. Slowly her hands came to rest upon her hips as she took in the whole scene in front of her.
Jody just slowly nodded at her reaction, a little chuckle passing her lips as she looked down at the order form and then back to what surrounded them. “I think Rufus went a bit overboard, hence me needing your help.”
“You’re not kidding,” Y/N laughed before moving across the floor to start sorting, but her boss stopped her in her tracks, handing off the clipboard and pen.
“Can you make the notes?” Jody asked her kindly, “I only have one pair of protective gloves so would prefer to do the heavy lifting myself.”
“That’s fine,” she agreed, although she felt bad that her friend was going to be doing all the work.
It took a couple of hours for them to sort through everything that had been delivered, with Y/N offering a few times to swap roles so she could do her fair share, but Jody constantly refused. As they neared the end, her boss heaving a sack of potatoes back onto the truck, the door that led back into the diner opened to reveal Donna, a bright and infectious smile on her face.
Without explanation, she nodded towards Jody before she traversed the stock to get to Y/N’s side, her fingers combing through the waitress’s hair. The blonde moved a few wayward strands, tucked the rest behind one ear before cupping her cheeks, all while ignoring the confused expression that Y/N was wearing.
“Beautiful,” Donna gushed, before she grabbed the clipboard out of the grasp of the bewildered help and passed it to Jody.
“Thank you?” Y/N replied, her brows furrowed as she tried to work out the behaviour of her bosses.
But before she could question it, the blonde grabbed her by the hand and began to pull her back into the main area of the diner while muttering, “Come with me.”
Of course she did as she was told, and tried her hardest to keep in step with the woman whose grip was tight on her fingers. Their heels echoed loudly over the wooden floors, causing all the customers of The Daisy Chain to focus on the pair as they weaved their way through the tables. Her dress was floating behind her due to the speed she was currently walking. She had tried to ask just what the rush was, but she was met with Donna’s hushing before she bundled her out of the front doors and onto the harbor.
Before Y/N could react, the blonde’s hands had grabbed tightly onto the tops of her arms and twisted her attention towards the bay. That was when she saw it. The large ship that had docked on the bay, the vessel that struck a perfect resemblance to the one that Dean was stationed on. Her stomach churned, her heart pounding hard against her ribs, her palms growing sweaty as her fingers came to clasp the angel wing that hung around her neck.
“Is that…” she breathed softly, her trembling legs carrying her a few steps further out onto the docks so she could get a clearer view.
She didn’t want to get her hopes up, didn’t want to experience the excitement of being able to see her Dean again only to be let down if it wasn’t. She felt like she was holding her breath, her grip tight on the shell he had bought her as her eyes frantically scanned through the growing crowd for the name of the ship. It was almost as if everything was happening in slow motion and she couldn’t get time to move as quickly as she would like. But soon, there was a clear break in the sea of people and her gaze landed on bold black letters. USS Anzio.
“But he didn’t-” Y/N started, her voice starting to tremble with the overflowing wave of emotion that was flooding her. He hadn’t told her he was coming, and had said that it could be another month before he arrived back in her town. It was then that her eyebrows began to knit together, and she turned to Donna who was still standing behind her, “How did you–”
Her query was interrupted by the blonde passing over a letter, and immediately the waitress identified the penmanship as Dean’s, “He wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Oh my god,” she whispered, a tear falling onto her cheek as she read the words her sailor had written. They were full of nothing but love and adoration for her, and he wanted his return to be a secret so she wouldn’t worry about his voyage back home into her arms.
“Go get him, sugar,” Donna encouraged her, taking the letter from her hands before giving her a gentle nudge forward.
Y/N didn’t have to be told twice, so she ran as fast as her legs would allow, praying that her feet wouldn’t fail her while she weaved through waiting families. From what she could see, the ramp had already been lowered meaning sailors must have started to come ashore. It was then that she saw the uniforms, men embracing their lovers, their children, their friends. Her heart was still pounding, her chest still heaving with each anxious breath she took as she desperately searched for her man, for the soul that made her complete.
The seconds felt like minutes, and the anxious pit in her stomach was bubbling as she had yet to find Dean. She was having a hard time locating him, deception lurking at every turn due to the clothes the men of the sea were wearing. But he was a Commander now, he should be easily identifiable so why could she not spot him in this ever growing crowd?
She was just about to panic, about to open the door to her fear that maybe something could have happened to him on his way here, when two large palms rested on her hips from behind. Just like that, she was no longer frightened that he hadn’t returned. No longer scared that he was in harm’s way, because two deep and husky words were spoken as soon as she felt that contact, blanketing her in the comfort she sought.
“Hey Sparky.”
Immediately, she turned around in his hold, her heart ready to burst out of her chest as she saw the familiar emerald orbs looking straight at her. The corner of Dean’s eyes crinkled as he smiled wide and bright. He looked a little more tanned from his time at sea causing his freckles to stand out a little more than she remembered. It was his fingers stroking her cheek that brought her out of her trance, his touch delicate, his thumb tenderly caressing her skin as if he was testing that this moment was as real as he hoped.
She couldn’t wait any longer, it had already been ten months without him. So without hesitation, Y/N rolled onto her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, throwing herself against his body in excitement and wanting. Automatically he tightened his hold on her before he lifted his girl from the floor, their noses tenderly nudging against each other as they both wore their happiness with pride. That was when her lips found his, kissing him with all the love she could muster. Dean Winchester was home, he was safe and he had returned to her just like he had promised.
With reluctance, she pulled back from him to look into his eyes once more, her hands now cupping his slightly stubbled cheeks as he gently lowered her back to the ground. They didn’t part though, their foreheads remained connected as he pulled her body tight against his. That was the moment she finally found the courage to speak, that she was able to trust that her words would not fail her in a breath of overwhelming emotion, to greet her man that had been away for so long.
“Hello, Sailor.”
——————————————– THE END ——————————————– A/N: And so it’s done. Did you like it? Please, please,let me know what you think if and when you have time.
Much love to you all!
Also…keep those peepers peeled for a new series announcement!
Characters: Firefighter!Dean x Doctor!Reader, Garth, other minor characters
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, SMUT (Oral - f. receiving, fingering, P-in-V, unprotected sex - 18+ only!)
A/N: I know, I know, it’s been months, and I’m so sorry! But chapter 11 is finally here, yay! I hope this makes up for the ridiculously long hiatus but I finally had the chance to sit down, go over it and get things to piece together how I wanted, and hopefully how you’ll like. Thank y’all so much for reading! Sitting my ass down right-fucking-now to get the next chapter out as soon as possible!
Here’s my full Masterlist if you’d like to read more!
Your voice caught in your throat, you feel all blood drain from your cheeks and a sudden chill settle in your bones.
Dean. He is here, standing but a few feet from you, expectant eyes staring deep into your soul, waiting on bated breath for your response. It’s only been a few seconds, yet you feel as though you’ve been standing in place for eons – watching him, admiring his breathtaking beauty that somehow seems to have doubled in the few months you’ve spent apart from each other.
He makes a small movement towards you, and you curse yourself silently when your feet shuffle backwards instinctively. You want to respond, are yelling at yourself to say something, anything at all, but words fail as if the connection between your brain and your mouth is severed. The door to your side opens and you jump in place as Annabel steps into the room. The breeze accompanying her entrance courses around you, serves to shock you off your frozen state and you can hear Annabel introducing herself to Dean. She turns to you and you hand her the chart you’d been clutching in your arms, your own movements robotic and stiff. The lock to the en suite clicks and you see a thin man exit, he has a kind smile for you as Annabel explains to him who you are. Forcefully, you return the smile and continue looking at the strange man as Annabel talks to him about next steps, but you’re painfully aware of the green eyes burning holes in the side of your face. You chance a look to where Dean still stands next to the patient bed and could almost see the exact second where his expression turns from one of shock to one you can’t quite place, but are fairly certain is anger.
“What do you think, Dr. Y/L/N?”
Your head sharply turns again at the sound of your name being said and you see Annabel looking at you questioningly, “I’m so sorry, what was that, again?”
Annabel repeats her approach and you take the chance to step further from Dean and closer to the patient, Garth, who you now vaguely remember having a short conversation with Dean about. Settling on a plan with Annabel quickly, she continues talking to Garth and you take the chance to excuse yourself for a moment. You head for the door and the moment you set foot in the hallway, you feel a wave of nausea run through you. A nurse passes by and you ask to be directed to the nearest bathroom, he points you in the direction and you quickly make your way over.
What the hell is he doing here? You must be cursed, this kind of thing doesn’t happen to normal people, does it? Of all people to run into, of all places to run into someone, it had to be Dean and it had to be here.
The nausea subsides as you lean over one of the sinks of the restroom you entered and you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You can see the fear in your eyes, the anxiety creeping up your spine as you remember the look in Dean’s eyes once he’d gotten over the shock of running into you. God, he must hate me…
Someone walks into the bathroom and you realize you’ve been standing there for too long. You need to go back and give Annabel some sort of explanation for your odd behavior, as well as excuse yourself for the rest of the day, and hopefully manage to avoid Dean in the process of it all.
Sure, ditch him again. It’s not like you haven’t been so horrible to him before.
You curse under your breath, knowing that your plan is cowardly, again. You want to be brave, be able to walk up to Dean and apologize. You want to let him say his piece, show his anger and chastise you for your behavior, but in truth you don’t know if you can take it. Not from him, at least.
Though you hate what you did to Dean by leaving so suddenly, you still treasure the memory of that last night by his side. The way he cared for you, treated you like a queen, touched you like you’ve never been touched before… How you ended it will always be one of the worst things you’ve ever done, yes, but that memory is your happy place. It’s sweet, precious, untarnished.
If you go to him now, it won’t be. If you let him say his truth and tell you how much he wishes he’d never met you, that last memory of your last night together will be taken from you. Instead of a loving embrace, your final memory of Dean Winchester will be him walking away from you after breaking your heart. Something you deserve, you know that… but not something you’re brave enough to take.
Taking a deep breath, having made up your mind to avoid Dean at all costs, you head back out to the hallway and warily make your way to Annabel’s office. You turn the corner and are about to reach the elevator when you see Garth being taken down the hallway in a gurney. And that’s when you realize… Dean is in Chicago to take care of a friend.
Who does that? What kind of person drops everything and gets on a plane to fly to another state to take care of a friend that they rarely even see anymore?
The good kind. And Dean Winchester is the best kind of person there is. He’s caring, loyal, the most selfless man you’ve ever met. He deserves better than to be ditched and avoided. He deserves at least a better explanation than some hurriedly written note, and definitely deserves the chance to get his thoughts and feelings off his chest.
Suddenly feeling braver than you have in a long time, you turn on your heel and make your way back to the room in which Garth was placed. Hopefully it’s not too late and he hasn’t left quite yet, though the chances of him still being in the room are slim. You finally arrive at the room and place a hand on the door handle. Taking a deep breath, you brace yourself for whatever you’re about to face and open the door carefully. You enter the room, a knot in the back of your throat as you look up from the floor and you can feel panic rise within as you see Dean still in the room, gathering what seem to be some of Garth’s personal belongings.
He looks up from the duffel bag he’s packing on the bed and once again, the air gets knocked out of your lungs as his eyes meet yours. What little courage you had earlier begins to slowly seep out of you and you’re having a hard time not running away.
Dean sighs and looks back down to the duffel on the bed, “come to ignore me some more, or did you just forget something?”
His voice is harsh and you can hear the anger and pain behind his words. Forcing some air back into your body, you clear your throat, “I - erm, I was hoping to talk, um, if that would be okay with you…”
He doesn’t respond but you close the door to the room to ensure some sort of privacy. Taking small, measured steps, you walk closer to him but stop in your tracks when you notice him stiffening as you draw closer. He doesn’t look up from his packing, but says, “talk about what? I think you made it very clear that you wanted nothing to do with me.”
“Dean, I - “
“If you’re here to apologize, apology accepted. Otherwise, don’t worry, I’m not stalking you or anythin’. You can go back to avoiding me.”
You visibly flinch at the sting of his words, a detail that doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he never really forgave you like he told his friends, and himself, all those times. Whatever the case may be, he knows he didn’t mean to snap like he did, “sorry. I didn’t mean -”
“It’s okay,” you interrupt, “y-you’re right. I’ve been avoiding you when in reality it should be you avoiding me. What I did was… reprehensible.”
Dean, who has stopped packing the duffel completely and is now sitting on the bed, sighs, “that’s one way to put it.”
“Listen, Dean, I know I’m in no place to ask for anything from you – frankly, the fact that I’m even trying is too much – but, is there any chance you’d be able to meet me later tonight? I just, I feel like I owe you an explanation and I’d really like it if you could spare me a few minutes, maybe somewhere a little more private?” You hold your breath, expecting to be rejected but are surprised when Dean agrees to give you a chance.
You thank him and go to leave, having made plans to meet at the restaurant in your hotel for dinner. After apologizing to Annabel, you head straight to the hotel and hope that the nagging feeling in your gut is just nerves about your impending talk with Dean and not a preamble to a horrible night.
The few hours that have passed have been more than enough to put you on edge. By the time Dean texts you to tell you he’s on the way to your hotel, your nerves are fried and you fidget with your outfit and makeup for the thousandth time.
You look in the mirror, a small smile on your face as you give your appearance one last check before heading down to the lobby. You opted for something simple, dark jeans and a blouse with light makeup. Still, a big part of you wants to look your best for Dean.
“Table for two?” says the hostess when she sees you and Dean arrive. You nod and follow her to a table in the corner of the small restaurant, really it’s more of a lounge but it’s quiet and private enough for the conversation you’re about to have with Dean. When he arrived, you immediately felt faint and breathless. Though you saw him earlier, seeing him and being so close to him again made your chest tighten and the butterflies in your stomach go berserk. Ever the gentleman, he asked about your day and guided you to where the signs in the lobby indicated the restaurant was situated.
Now, sitting across from one another, you still find it hard to breathe and come up with anything other than one word responses and meek smiles. Finally, as the drinks are placed in front of you, whiskey for Dean and wine for you, he leans forward and asks, “so, what did you want to talk about?”
There it is. The million dollar question.
You look down and find your fingers anxiously wrapped around the stem of your wine glass. You know what you want to say, at least you did a couple hours ago, but have no idea how to begin. Instead, you go to take a sip of your wine and end up downing the whole thing in one go. Putting the glass down, you look at Dean and for a moment you swear you could see the corner of his mouth twitch the tiniest visible bit.
“Okay,” you breathe out. “First things first - “
“Are we ready to order?” the waitress interrupts to ask you, though you suspect her question is more directed at Dean as her eyes are glued to his face and her smile screams for attention.
Dean barely glances at her as he orders and, feeling bad for the girl, you try to be nicer though she glares at you as you place your order. Once she’s gone, you look back to Dean, who is still staring expectantly at you.
“Um, right.” Here we go, “like I was saying, first of all, I need you to know that leaving you… it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done and I am so sorry. What I did was just, well, unacceptable for one, and so unfair to you. You know, you opened your home and your heart to me and I-”
You stop for a moment as tears begin to fall down your cheeks. Dean is silent, listening to every word yet remaining unreactive to any of it. Clearing your throat, you continue, “It’s not lost on me, Dean - the fact that I left you in such a cowardly manner. But that was all me, my fears took over and I just felt that I needed to leave, I needed to do something to prove that I can make choices for myself. And I knew that if I even let myself thinkof having an actual relationship with you, I would stay… for you. I don’t expect you to forgive me or even accept it, but if you could find it within you to understand, I couldn’t be that girl that changed her life for someone else. I did that once and I just couldn’t do it again.”
Looking down, you sniffle as you search for your napkin to wipe the tears from your face but find yourself frozen as Dean has left his seat and is now crouched down next to you, his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist. You lift your gaze and close your eyes as he takes the napkin and wipes your tears for you. He places the soft cloth down and his hand reaches up to touch the side of your face. The second you feel his touch, you feel as though a great weight is lifted off your chest and you let a shuddering breath out as his thumb gently caresses your cheek.
“Sweetheart,” Dean starts and you open your eyes to find yourself staring into deep emerald pools. “I would never hold that against you. If anything, I was prepared to let you go. The decision was always yours, and whatever it was, you always had my full support.
“Now, do I wish things had been handled differently? Of course,” he continues. “ And, sure, maybe I do still resent you a little for the way you left things between us but, trust me, I never even thought about making you change your entire life for me. That just wouldn’t be fair to you, and I… I love you too much to hurt you like that.”
You gasp softly as Dean says those three little words. During your stay in California, it became apparent just how much you love him, too. The pain you felt in your chest every single day was the biggest indicator. Before you can respond, Dean closes the short gap between you and you close your eyes.
His kiss is gentle, at first, tentative as he brushes his lips against yours with featherlight touch. The second you feel him against you, you sigh into his mouth, feeling as though you were finally complete again. Slowly, he begins to kiss you more urgently, his hand traveling to the back of your head as his tongue asks for entrance. You gladly give in, excitement coursing through your veins until the sound of someone nearby clearing their throat brings you both back to reality and Dean pulls back. You feel your cheeks warm as the waitress stares at you with a raised eyebrow and a forced smile, apologizing and announcing the arrival of your food. If Dean feels any embarrassment, he’s extremely good at hiding it because he simply returns to his seat and smiles politely as the food is set in front of you.
After asking if you need anything else, and throwing you a death glare, the waitress leaves and you look up to find Dean smirking as he watches your reaction, which he finds adorable and, quite honestly, hilarious. Especially the way your cheeks become visibly red and you avoid eye contact while your voice turns a couple octaves higher. In that moment, he realizes he’d almost forgotten just how beautiful you are and his chest tightens as pure joy overtakes his senses. He’s missed you for so long, never feeling quite right, a part of him always somewhat empty. And now that emptiness is finally gone, replaced by your mere presence. Admittedly, when he agreed to meet with you, he had prepared to at least make a clean break. But from the moment he saw you, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to do that, it would hurt too much, and when you began to cry, all his resolve went out the window and all he knew was that he needed to make you feel better, whatever it took. Now, seeing your reaction after his kiss, a kiss which had brought life back to him, he couldn’t help but smile.
For a few moments, you both sit there fiddling with your food, neither hungry anymore. At least, not hungry for the dishes in front of you, but rather hungry for each other. You don’t know how, but part of you can see in Dean’s eyes the same desire that you feel.
“Room 1107,” you whisper.
“Read my mind, sweetheart.” Dean stands and takes his wallet out, throwing a couple bills on the table as you gather your purse and jacket. You both hurry out of the lounge, Dean holding your hand as you head to the elevators. The doors open and you rush inside, barely pressing the button to your floor when Dean pushes you up against the side of the lift, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss. The air becomes hot and heavy, his hands are everywhere; on your hips, your waist, his fingers digging deep into the flesh beneath your blouse. You hold on to him for support and are about to wrap your legs around his waist when the elevator dings, signaling arrival to your floor. Everything is a haze as you rush out and fumble through your purse contents for your roomkey as Dean continues holding on to you, your back against his chest, his lips lightly sucking on the tender skin on the side of your neck. Shaky fingers wrap around the keycard and before you know it, you’re turned around, kissing Dean once more as he walks you backwards into the hotel room. Clothes are flying everywhere, the both of you a mere blur as you make your way to the bed, and the only thing you can focus on is the wonderful sensation of Dean’s skin against your own.
You giggle as you fall backwards onto the soft surface of the mattress, Dean standing above you, admiring your form as you do his. He’s so beautiful, so perfectly carved to your every desire, and underneath it all is the man you’ve come to love more than any before.
You lean up on your elbows as Dean kneels before you, his gaze full of love and admiration, you feel as though you may cry. No one before had ever looked at you with quite such… reverence. You smile as Dean leans down and gently presses his lips to your inner calf, slowly making his way up your leg, the stubble now adorning his cheek tickling you along the way. You lean back as his lips explore the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh. A soft moan escapes as he comes closer still to your now-soaked core, begging to be touched by those plump, full lips of his. Suddenly, his warm breath fans over your mound and you whine in protest and buck your hips upwards impatiently. He chuckles at your eagerness and wants to give in to the sweet sounds you make as he comes even closer, yet he knows he doesn’t want to rush it, not this. Slowly, agonizingly slow, his tongue traces a single line up your center, causing goosebumps to cover your whole body. Dean smiles and grabs your legs, placing them on his shoulders, before suddenly diving in once more, only this time he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks lightly which makes your legs tighten. Your hands are tangled in the sheets of the bed and you’ve forgotten how to breathe as Dean continues licking and sucking, his tongue taking you places you’ve only dreamed of. He continues feasting on you, delighted by your moans and whimpers, coming up every now and then to admire his work, how your body glistens and writhes at his touch.
Soon, you feel the coil in your belly tighten and Dean can tell you’re close. He slips a single finger into your sweet, dripping wet opening and groans as he feels your walls tighten. He adds another finger and begins fucking you as he continues sucking on your bundle of nerves. Gradually, his fingers go faster and faster, the pace matched by his lips and tongue until it all becomes too much and your orgasm hits like a freight train. You scream out in pleasure, your legs closing in around Dean, back arched and hands nearly pulling the sheets right off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure drown you in pure, complete bliss.
Before you can fully recover, you find yourself enveloped by warmth as Dean crawls up on the bed and catches your lips in a sweet kiss. His lips taste of you and you simply cannot get enough. Without breaking the kiss, you both move up the bed and Dean lines himself up with your entrance. He pulls back and stares deep into your eyes as his throbbing cock enters you slowly, inch by inch stretching your cunt. You gasp, your body on fire as he begins to move his hips. In and out, his eyes never leave yours as he makes love to you. His hands caress the side of your body and you trace your nails across his back, the pads of your fingers feeling the way his back muscles contract and extend as he continues his perfect movements.
He’s always been attractive, to the point of perfection to you but at this moment, he is simply beautiful. His lips are slightly parted, cheeks flushed, his sweat-soaked hair touching his forehead. And his eyes, those mesmerizing windows to the most wonderful soul, they see right through you with such fervor and love.
As the connection between you grows, so does the tension in the pit of your stomach. Dean knows exactly what to do when it comes to your body and you find yourself climbing closer and closer to that marvelous precipice, that moment of release you so desperately crave. He can tell how close you are and he struggles to hold back, too. The expression on your face, the sounds slipping past your lips, your walls contracting around him in sweet and delicious anticipation, it’s all he’s dreamed of for months. He wants to take you there, wants to see you become undone before him.
His movements speed up and become erratic, nearly sloppy. You close your eyes as you feel your orgasm loom around the corner, you’re so close, so tantalizingly, ridiculously close. Dean’s lips latch on to the tender skin on your neck, sucking at the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, the pulse point he knows will drive you absolutely insane. His teeth nip at your skin as his hips continue ramming into you. Your moans turn to screams and your vision turns white as the coil in your belly snaps and you’re suddenly hit with the most unimaginable pleasure. Electricity courses through your body, spreading from your core to the tips of your curling toes, blazing through your nerves like the most devastatingly sublime wildfire. As your body seizes, Dean can’t hold back anymore, groaning as he lets go, his seed filling you up. He collapses on top of you and rolls off, pulling you along to lay your head on his chest.
It’s a couple moments before either of you can catch your breath, you look up at Dean who places a kiss on your forehead before looking up at the ceiling. You smile as you continue to look at him - finally feeling complete after so many months of loneliness - when the words leave your mouth.
Warnings: Angst, show-level violence (TW: Torture), some fluff
A/N: Back again from another Hiatus, tbh things have been bleak creatively-speaking. This just sort of happened, I’m sorry in advance but I hope you enjoy reading. Thank you to everyone for your patience and support, you’re all amazing! Special thanks to my lovely @downanddirtydean for being the absolute best!
Here’s my full Masterlist if you’d like to read more! ☺️
Heavy rain beat down on the desolate road upon which Dean drove in the middle of the night. The rhythmic tapping of rainwater pounding against the frame of his 1967 Chevy Impala was drowned out by the riffs of a guitar coming from the speakers inside the cabin. Despite the dangers posed by the deluge currently surrounding him, Dean did not stop.
Instead, he stepped further down on the gas, forcing the engine to work overtime against the environment. The cacophony of noises was more than enough to ensure that Dean could hear nothing but random sound, not even his own thoughts.
It had been a week since he last had any contact with anyone, including his brother, Sam. A week since he lost his best friend, a week since he took the lives of an entire family in a blind rage that scared even him.
Warnings: SMUT (this is R-rated so please please do not read if you are under 18) - light bondage, unprotected sex, fingering. Some fluff, some angst. Jealousy.
A/N: Every now and then I find some extra time, and thankfully inspiration, to write so yeah this happened… enjoy!
Warnings: Angst, show-level violence (TW: Torture), some fluff
A/N: Back again from another Hiatus, tbh things have been bleak creatively-speaking. This just sort of happened, I’m sorry in advance but I hope you enjoy reading. Thank you to everyone for your patience and support, you’re all amazing! Special thanks to my lovely @downanddirtydean for being the absolute best!
Here’s my full Masterlist if you’d like to read more! ☺️
Heavy rain beat down on the desolate road upon which Dean drove in the middle of the night. The rhythmic tapping of rainwater pounding against the frame of his 1967 Chevy Impala was drowned out by the riffs of a guitar coming from the speakers inside the cabin. Despite the dangers posed by the deluge currently surrounding him, Dean did not stop.
Instead, he stepped further down on the gas, forcing the engine to work overtime against the environment. The cacophony of noises was more than enough to ensure that Dean could hear nothing but random sound, not even his own thoughts.
It had been a week since he last had any contact with anyone, including his brother, Sam. A week since he lost his best friend, a week since he took the lives of an entire family in a blind rage that scared even him.
Warnings: Angst, show-level violence (TW: Torture), some fluff
A/N: Back again from another Hiatus, tbh things have been bleak creatively-speaking. This just sort of happened, I’m sorry in advance but I hope you enjoy reading. Thank you to everyone for your patience and support, you’re all amazing! Special thanks to my lovely @downanddirtydean for being the absolute best!
Here’s my full Masterlist if you’d like to read more! ☺️
Heavy rain beat down on the desolate road upon which Dean drove in the middle of the night. The rhythmic tapping of rainwater pounding against the frame of his 1967 Chevy Impala was drowned out by the riffs of a guitar coming from the speakers inside the cabin. Despite the dangers posed by the deluge currently surrounding him, Dean did not stop.
Instead, he stepped further down on the gas, forcing the engine to work overtime against the environment. The cacophony of noises was more than enough to ensure that Dean could hear nothing but random sound, not even his own thoughts.
It had been a week since he last had any contact with anyone, including his brother, Sam. A week since he lost his best friend, a week since he took the lives of an entire family in a blind rage that scared even him.
Warnings: SMUT (this is R-rated so please please do not read if you are under 18) - light bondage, unprotected sex, fingering. Some fluff, some angst. Jealousy.
A/N: Every now and then I find some extra time, and thankfully inspiration, to write so yeah this happened… enjoy!
