A/N: Just a cute little scene that popped in my head.
Dean stood in the doorway to his room, his breath caught in his throat. His hands were shaking enough that it caused the dishes on the tray he was carrying to rattle.
He forced himself forward, gently nudging the door closed behind him with his foot. Making his way to the bed, Dean balanced the tray on the nightstand as best he could before sitting on the edge of the bed.
That’s when he took a moment to look at Y/N, asleep in his bed. She looked so peaceful, and beautiful. He couldn’t believe his luck to wake up beside her that morning. Or, well, near noon, but who was keeping track?
Last night was probably one of the best nights of his whole life. He finally manned up and told Y/N how deeply he’d fallen for her, how much he wanted her in his life. He had been so scared. Of rejection, of not being enough, of ruining their friendship. But when she lit up at his confession, echoing his sentiments back to him, none of it mattered.
He’d spent the night showing her how much he loved her, over and over again. She reciprocated, blowing his mind and swelling his heart.
But he knew her insecurities were eating at her. He knew her well enough to know that she’d wake, wondering what it all meant. And he wanted to be sure there was no room for misunderstanding.
“Y/N,” he whispered gently, his fingers brushing back the hair from her face and ticking over her skin, “Y/N, Baby, wake up.”
She stirred awake, his touch rousing her, his soft and deep timbre vibrating through her. She moaned, rolling to her back and stretching, expecting to find her beside her. When her hand found nothing, her eyes shot open.
They quickly landed on amused green eyes staring back at her from the other side of the bed.
“Morning,” she flushed bashfully, adjusting to sit up against the headboard.
“It’s almost noon,” Dean admitted.
She admired the broad smile on his face and crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He was happy, and it looked good on him.
He brought the tray to rest carefully across her lap, chuckling once more at her surprise.
“I could get used to this,” she teased as she sipped at the coffee.
“Yeah, me too,” Dean responded, tucking a stray hair behind her ear with a wistful smile.
As she had fallen asleep, she had wondered what would happen the next day. Even though they had both confessed things, and connected in a beautiful way, she still wasn’t sure if Dean would truly want her.
But the smile on his face, the breakfast before her, told her all she needed to know. It was the best wake-up, and she was excited for all the wake-ups next to Dean to come.
A/N: Turned out really fluffy, but it made my heart full.
Misha was grateful but nervous as he arrived home, fresh off a tour of duty. Eighteen months away from home seemed like a lifetime, especially after all he had seen and been through in that time. It would have felt impossible, if it hadn’t been for his best friend, Jensen.
When he enlisted, Jensen was excited and supportive, but Misha knew he was hurting. They grew up together, were always together. His enlistment was really the first long stretch of time they’d had apart. But Jensen wrote constantly, keeping Misha aprised of the things at home and reminding him that he was loved and missed.
The night before he left, Jensen threw him a party, enjoying one more night before they would have to bid farewell. So it wasn't that much of a surprise when he walked into his family’s home to a large crowd of happy people welcoming him home.
Of course, Jensen was center stage, a bright smile on his face to greet his best friend. Of course, Jensen was his first hug, the familiarity of it grounding him and releasing the nervous tension he was holding.
“Welcome home, man,” Jensen beamed, “We’ll catch up later when we have a minute, yeah?”
Misha nodded, knowing all the people around him would want his time and attention. All he wanted was to sit and drink a beer with Jensen, but that would have to wait.
What seemed like hours later, people finally started leaving the party, the house emptying out and quieting down quickly after. When Jensen handed him a beer and lead the way to the chairs out back, Misha was at peace.
“So glad you’re back, man,” Jensen spoke, “You have no idea how much you were missed around here.”
“Oh, well Mrs. Carter told me exactly how much I’ve been missed.”
The pair chuckled together, Jensen shaking his head, his smile unable to leave his face.
“Yeah, well, she’s not the only one,” Jensen added with a nervous chuckle.
He ran a hand on the back of his neck and Misha tilted his head in confusion. He knew those tells, but he didn’t understand why Jensen would have them now. Except, maybe he did because something had started to shift between them before he left. While he was away, Jensen was his rock, his go-to, his piece of home.
“You kept me going over there, you know?” Misha admitted, fidgeting with the bottle in his hands, “You kept in touch and no matter what was going on I knew you’d be there to listen and respond.”
Jensen’s constant contact meant more to him than he could really put into words.
“I was so worried,” Jensen admitted, his voice shaky, “I didn’t know if I’d see you again. If you’d even make it h-home.”
Seeing him so shaken broke something within Misha. Taking a chance, he reached over, squeezing Jensen’s hand in his own. When Jensen met his eyes, he squeezed once more to reassure him.
“Asshole,” Jensen affectionately grumbled, letting a tear drop as he lurched forward, hugging Misha tightly once more.
A part of him was afraid if he let go, Misha would disappear right before his eyes as if it were all a dream. So he held tighter and Misha reciprocated as they settled back into the familiarity that was them, and maybe something more.
Summary: Y/N gets distracted by her new professor.
Characters: Professor!Dean x Student!Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff
AU: PROFESSOR/TEACHER AU
DEAN: SCHOOL TEACHER AU
FLUFF: TEACHER AU
WC: 556
A/N: Couldn’t find a gif that really fit, so went with the above. Do love me a ‘nerdy’ Dean.
Y/N settled into her seat in the small lecture hall. Being a new college student was hard enough. Starting more than a decade after people usually did was even harder. She hated that she stood out like a sore thumb, but she was determined.
A man closer to her age entered the room, the students quieting down as he settled at the desk at the front. She quickly realized he must be the professor. Then she wondered how in the hell she was supposed to focus in this class.
Mr. Winchester was gorgeous. He had the looks of an actor or model. But he was stood before the class, dressed in slacks and a sweater, his tie tucked beneath. She suddenly understood where all the teacher fantasies came from.
Her mind drifted to the most sinful thoughts. Perched on his desk, pulling him closer by his tie, begging for extra credit.
Suddenly people were shuffling about and she realized class must have ended. That certainly wasn’t going to bode well if she couldn’t focus on her class at all.
Packing up her bag, she made her way to the door.
“Y/N, can you stay for a minute please?”
She paused in her steps, her eyes closing and cursing under her breath. Plastering on a smile, she turned around, seeing they were now alone in the room.
“Yes, Mr. Winchester?”
A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. His plump, lucious-
“-try to focus more when in class.”
Damnit. She’s done it again. Stupefied, she nodded, promising to be more prepared next time. As soon as he was satisfied, she rushed from the room, eager to get home.
Y/N just finished making dinner when she heard the front door open and close. A few footsteps later and her husband stood in the kitchen, smiling warmly.
“Smells great,” he grinned, coming around the counter to kiss her sweetly, “How was your first day of school?” He smirked, helping her to set the table.
“Great,” she grinned, “Except I totally got caught ogling one of my teachers and he pulled me over after class and told me to focus more,” she added a little quieter.
“You really should focus,” he chuckled.
“Can’t help it, Dean,” she whined, playing with his tie, “You’re hotter than I realized up there. All those other girls probably ogling you too. They’re all young and I’m the older, odd one out,” she pouted, “Makes me wanna claim you on the desk so they know who you belong to.”
Dean growled, kissing her deeply, biting at her lips and sucking at her tongue.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” he said, helping her into her seat as they settled in for dinner, “You’re the only woman I ever want.”
“It is weird being so much older,” she sighed as they dug in, “And it just seems so much harder. Maybe that’s cause I’ve been out of school for a while.”
“Nah, you got this. It’ll take a minute to adjust, but I have faith in you. No one ever said life-changing decisions would be easy,” he added with a smirk.
Y/N was grateful Dean was so supportive and encouraging. It didn’t hurt that he now held the title of ’Hottest Teacher’ she’d ever had. But maybe she was biased.
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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Description: Dean tells Y/N something he quickly regrets, sending her away. The break-up has him searching high and low for her. Will he finally be able to make things right when he finds her?
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Square Filled: Break-up/Make-up
Word Count: 4887
Warnings: Angst, Smut, Fluff, a bit of crack, Language, Violence.
A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo. Also got another BINGO! This was also requested by Amanda back in February. Sorry for the long wait hun.
“No way, Y/N.” Sam said as he looked at her, “there is no way this thing is a witch. Dean and I looked everywhere for hex bags or coins,” he let out a sigh.
“Not all witches use hex bags or coins, Sam,” Y/N argued. “There is a lot of lore that points to a powerful group of witches that go beyond using hex bags and coins.”
“Y/N, I’m telling you this is not the case,” Sam countered. “all the signs point to a wolf.”
“A wolf?” Y/N scoffed. “You can’t be serious. How long have you been a hunter, Sam? Did you not see the markings on the chest where the heart was carvedout? Carved, not ripped.”
“So this one has more control. It’s probably an older wolf,” Sam retorted.
“Okay, so let’s just call Rowena and find out, hmm?” Y/N sassed.
“Yeah, I’m not bringing in a witch to prove myself right. Besides, I don’t want us owing her another favor. Not to mention Dean and I’ve been hunting longer than you, okay?”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Sam? You’re not right!” Y/N yelled. “Besides, I may not have been hunting since I was in diapers, but I fucking pay attention to the details of a case.”
“Alright, enough of the yelling. Y/N, Sam is right. The signs all point to a wolf,” Dean interrupted, tired of the yelling.
“Are you kidding me?” Y/N looked to her boyfriend, “You’re blindly standing up for what your brother is saying, but you’re not going to bother listening to me?” She placed her hands on her hips, shaking her head at what she heard. “ Who has more knowledge about witches? Forget the fact that we’re together; you know I’m right here. You just don’t want baby brother to be mad at you.”
“No, Y/N, you’re not,” Dean argued. “You are not right because we’ve seen everything and anything, and there is no way this isn’t a wolf. Besides, I’ve known Sam longer. He’s family.”
He regretted it the minute the words left his mouth, but it was too late. The slap stung and echoed in the room.
“Fuck you,” she growled. “We’re done. You can solve the fucking case yourselves.”
“Y/N,” Dean began.
“Stay the fuck away from me,” Y/N spat. “When I say we’re done, I mean it. Find a girl that will let you treat her like trash. Unfortunately, I’m not one of them.”
