#Supernatural fanfic
Text
Dream Warriors Chapter 9
Title: Dream Warriors Chapter 9
Summary: A plan is devised and set in motion to bring the reader back.
Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, other original characters
Word Count: 3,170
Warnings: Canon typical violence and peril
Author’s Note: The penultimate chapter!!
Read Chapter 8 here.
Dean leads Rowena up to Y/N’s room. He stops at the door and looks at her. The others weren’t going to be on board with this at all. He sighs and holds a hand up for her before going in by himself. Sam looks up and smiles at him, sadly.
“Hey. You made your decision?” He asks. Dean pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I want to try one more thing and if it doesn’t work then…” He trails off, unable to actually say it.
“Try what?” Cas asks. Dean sighs and reaches back, pulling the door open. Rowena smiles as she steps into the room.
“Hello, Boys,” she says. Sam shakes his head quickly.
“No. Hell no,” he says. Dean runs his hands over his face and looks back at his brother, pleading.
“Let’s just see what she knows. Hear her out. She says she owes Y/N and that’s why she’s here,” he tells him. Sam watches as Rowena walks over to your body and examines it. Dean looks over and frowns. “Don’t touch her.” Rowena rolls her eyes before walking over to the book on the table.
“What happened?” She asks, picking it up and opening it. Sam looks at Dean before sighing and looking at her.
“We were on a case. A witch. She put some spell on Y/N and disappeared,” he says. Rowena nods slightly.
“Did you hear the spell?” She asks. Dean shakes his head.
“No. There was too much happening,” he tells her. She nods as she flips through the pages casually.
“Did the witch disappear or run away?”
“Pretty sure she disappeared,” Dean says. Rowena closes the book and holds it close to her chest.
“Has she been inexplicably injured?” She asks. Dean looks at her and nods, crossing his arms.
“Yea. She got a burn randomly and then…a lot worse,” he says. She smiles and nods.
“Somnium clipeum. It’s the Dream Shield,” she says.
“Dream Shield?” He asks. She nods, setting the book back on the table.
“It’s very complicated but a perfect escape route,” she says. The others wait expectantly as she walks back over to you. “The victim falls into a very deep sleep and the caster takes refuge in their subconscious.” The three men all stare at her.
“You’re saying the witch is actually…inside Y/N?” Sam asks. Rowena nods once.
“That’s impossible,” Cas says. The witch snorts a laugh.
“Says the graceless angel,” she says. Dean shakes his head quickly.
“How does this work?” He asks. “What’s happening in her head?”
“Whatever the witch wants. If she’s smart, she’s just hiding in some fantasy world created to keep Y/N asleep,” she explains. “However, since she’s been injured, I’d guess she’s toying with her instead.”
“What’s the point though? What happens if Y/N dies?” Sam asks. Rowena shrugs her shoulder.
“Your witch can take control,” she says. Dean frowns quickly.
“She’s trying to take Y/N’s body?” He asks. Rowena nods and Dean runs his hands over his face. “What can we do?”
“Nothing. There’s no reversal spell. No true love’s kiss,” she teases, earning a glare from Dean. “Y/N has to kill the witch in order to regain control,” Dean frowns and looks over at your body.
“Y/N’s smart. She’ll figure it out,” Sam says. Dean shakes his head.
“So, we just sit and wait?” He asks. Sam frowns and Rowena glances between them.
“Smart as Y/N is, the witch gains more control every minute she’s there. Killing her will be incredibly difficult,” she tells them.
“Is there anything we can do? Anything at all to help her?” Dean asks. Rowena walks over to the window as she thinks.
“There may something but it’s incredibly risky,” she says.
“What?” Dean questions.
“I could try to send her a message,” she tells him. Dean nods and looks at Sam who shrugs.
“A message how?” The younger brother asks. She turns back to look at them.
“I change the spell a little and I can send someone else in,” she says. Dean nods.
“I’ll do it,” he says. Sam sighs and glances at him.
“What’s the catch? The risk?” He asks.
“If Y/N dies, Dean will be lost as well. If Dean dies in the dream, he dies in real life,” she says. Dean shrugs his shoulders.
“I’ll do it,” he says again. Sam shakes his head and turns to his older brother, but Dean cuts him off before he can speak. “You aren’t talking me out of this. I can’t lose her, Sam. I can’t. She’s…everything.” His voice breaks and Sam sighs. He knew how important you were to Dean. He’d known long before Dean did.
“What do we do?” He asks, looking back at Rowena.
“I’ll need to gather ingredients and I won’t be able to do it here,” she says. Dean frowns and looks over at your body.
“How do we get her out of here?” He asks.
“I can help with that,” Arnold says, raising his hand in his seat. They all look over, having forgotten he was even in the room. Dean smiles a little and nods.
“Alright. Arnold and I will get her to the bunker. You three go get the stuff for the spell,” he says, looking at Sam.
Rowena gets a list of ingredients together. Sam splits it between himself and Cas before the three leave to get everything. Dean looks over at Arnold.
“What’s the plan?” He asks. Arnold stands and straightens out his tie.
“Let me do the talking. You sit there and look heartbroken for your dying wife,” he tells him. Dean nods and falls into the seat next to your bed. Arnold presses the call button and a nurse answers over the speaker. He asks to speak with the doctor. A few minutes later, the doctor comes into the room.
“Is everything okay?” She asks Dean, glancing at Arnold. He nods slightly and Arnold clears his throat, pulling a business card from his suit pocket.
“Good evening, Doctor. My name is Arnold Freidman, attorney,” he says, handing her his card. She takes it and looks at it before looking back at him. “I represent the Winchesters.”
“Okay,” she says, nodding.
“Mrs. Winchester doesn’t have long left, correct?” He asks. The doctor frowns and nods.
“Off the ventilator, she’d probably only have two maybe three hours,” she tells him. Arnold nods and sticks his hands in his pockets.
“Mr. Winchester has made a decision. He’d like to take his wife home so she can be comfortable and surrounded by family,” he tells her. She looks down at Dean to find he’s grasping your hand in his.
“Very well. I’m sorry we couldn’t do more to help,” she apologizes. Dean nods slightly and she looks back at Arnold.
“The family has gone on to get things ready and make sure everyone has a chance to get there to say goodbye. We’ll need a few hours,” he says. She nods and leaves the room. Dean lets out a breath and looks at Arnold.
“That was easy,” he says. Arnold smiles a little and moves back to his seat. “Now we just wait for the word that they’re ready.”
The two stay at the hospital and Dean finishes up your paperwork with Arnold’s help. Sam eventually calls Dean and tells him they have all the ingredients and Rowena has begun to work. Arnold informs the doctor that they’re ready and she releases your body to them. Dean lays you in the back seat much to the doctor’s dismay and thanks Arnold for all his help.
Dean drives back as fast as he can, constantly glancing back at you in the back seat to make sure you’re still breathing. As he approaches the bunker, you begin to thrash around once again. He looks back to find your side is bleeding.
“Dammit,” he roars, punching the gas a little harder. He whips the car into the garage and jumps out as Sam comes in. “Something happened,” he calls to his brother. Sam runs back out the door as Dean pulls you from the backseat. He carries you all the way to your bedroom where the others are waiting before laying you on the bed. Ripping your shirt open, they all stare in horror at the wound in your side.
“That’s a gunshot wound,” Sam says. Dean rolls your shirt up and presses it against the wound as Cas rushes from the room. He comes back a minute later with some supplies, alcohol, a needle, and thread.
“We don’t have much time,” Rowena points out. Dean frowns and looks at Sam then back at the witch.
“Can he stitch her up while you do the spell? Will that work?” He asks. Rowena nods and Cas takes Dean’s place, pressing against the wound. “What do I need to do?”
“Drink this,” she tells him, holding up a glass. It’s filled with a thick, dark substance almost resembling cough syrup. Dean takes it and downs it quickly, no hesitation. “Lie down and close your eyes,” she instructs. Dean glances over at Sam who has just begun to clean your wound. He lies down next to you on the bed and takes your hand in his.
“Be careful,” Sam tells him, looking up from his work. Dean nods once before closing his eyes. Rowena holds her hands above his body as she begins to chant in Latin. Cas watches her as Sam works, stitching up your side. She drops her hands then sits in a nearby chair.
“Did it work?” Sam asks, rising to his feet as he wipes his hands off on a towel. She looks at him, insulted.
“Of course it worked,” she says. Sam nods and looks at the bodies of two of the people who mean the most to him.
“What do we do now?” He asks.
“We wait,” she tells him. He frowns and shakes his head.
“I need a drink,” he mumbles before leaving the bedroom.
***
Dean opens his eyes and sits up, looking around. He’s on the ground outside a bar that seems vaguely familiar. He rises to his feet and brushes himself off before pushing the door open. Music greets him instantly, your favorite song blaring from the jukebox. He looks around and only spots you sitting at the bar, a bottle of whiskey and a glass sat in front of you. You look over and frown.
“Great,” you mumble, looking back at your glass. You down it quickly and stand up. “So, who are you supposed to be this time?”
“What?” Dean asks. You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms.
“Best friend? Husband? Boyfriend? High school sweetheart who went away to the war?” You ask, mostly to yourself. Dean stares at you and shakes his head.
“It’s me, Y/N. You’re under a…”
“A spell. I know,” you tell him. He nods and starts to walk over.
“Okay. You remember the spell and the witch?” He asks. You roll your eyes and turn back to the bar.
“I don’t like this one. Can we hit fast forward?” You ask no one in particular. Dean reaches you and puts a hand on your shoulder.
“Y/N, I’m here. You’re dying out there. Rowena showed up, said she owes you for something. She sent me in to help,” he says. You turn on your barstool before downing another glass of whiskey. Looking him over, you start to laugh.
“This is the most convincing one yet. Although, you’ve never shown up here before. She only puts me here when she’s resting so I’m always alone,” you say, reaching up and touching his cheek. He turns into your hand and puts his own over yours.
“You have to believe me, Y/N. We’ve got to kill her or she’ll take over your body,” he tries to convince you. It almost works but you know it’s too good to be true. You shake your head and lean back against the bar behind you.
“You know I’ve tried to kill her. It never works. She knows what I’m thinking before I do,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. The music on the jukebox stops and you sigh, looking over. “Last call.”
“What?” Dean asks, glancing over at it.
“She’s got a new one ready to go. The music only plays when, ugh…I’m on hold,” you laugh. Dean looks at you and frowns.
“Y/N,” he says. You put a finger over his lips and look around.
“You remember this place?” You ask. He looks around the bar and shakes his head slightly.
“I recognize it but I can’t place it,” he says. Your arms wrap around his neck and he looks at you suddenly, taken aback at your affectionate gesture.
“This is where we celebrated my first successful hunt,” you tell him. He looks back around and nods, remembering.
“Right. We got so drunk that night,” he says. You laugh and nod before yawning.
“Here it comes,” you mumble, slumping against his chest. He frowns as he looks down at you.
“Y/N??” He calls trying to wake you up. The room grows dark and he feels your weight slip from his arms. “Y/N??”
Light begins to grow around him slowly and he realize he’s in a different room now. He’s standing just inside the front door of a house. Footsteps approach from the top of the stairs in front of him and he frowns, peeking up. You come down towards him, a big smile on your face and a hand resting on your suddenly very pregnant belly.
“You’re home early. Everything okay?” You ask stopping in front of him. He stares down at your stomach. “Dean? What’s wrong?” You ask, reaching up and touching his cheek. Dean meets your eyes now and you smile. “Babe, you okay?” You ask.
“You’re pregnant,” he says, voice shaky. You laugh and nod.
“Yea. Congrats, it’s yours,” you say before standing up and kissing him. His eyes widen quickly when your lips meet for the briefest of moments. “I’m gonna go start dinner.” He stares after you as you go into the kitchen before shaking his head.
“This isn’t real. Calm down,” he tells himself before following you quickly. “Y/N, we need to talk.” You glance over at him as you start to chop some green peppers.
“What is it?” You ask. He takes a deep breath.
“This is gonna sound crazy but…this isn’t real. You’re under a spell. It’s got you in a coma, dreaming like this. It’s gonna kill you if we don’t act fast,” he says. You stare at him for a moment, shocked, hands starting to shake.
“What?” You ask, your voice trembling. Dean walks over and takes the knife from your hands carefully.
“You have to believe me. We have to go kill this witch or you’re gonna die,” he says. Your eyes fill with tears as you look up at him.
“Are you…are you really here?” You asks. He nods quickly.
“I am. Rowena cast another spell so I could help you,” he explains. The tears slip over as a sob breaks through your chest.
“Oh my God,” You cry, throwing your arms around his neck. He sighs and wraps you up in a tight hug.
“You believe me?” He asks, rubbing your back soothingly. You nod your head as your cry.
“You’re either really here or this is more elaborate than her normal dreams,” you tell him, wiping at your eyes. He looks down at you and his eyes fall to your stomach again.
“This is weird,” he says. You look at him then down and run a hand across the significant bump.
“You’re telling me,” you say. “I usually play along with the dreams now. It’s the easiest way to get to her.” He nods and reaches a hand out, hesitating.
“So this…this is supposed to…supposed to be mine?” He asks. You laugh lightly and nod, allowing him to touch your stomach.
“Our little miracle baby apparently,” you tell him. He raises an eyebrow at you. “I have my own memories and the ones that she plants. Several miscarriages and years of fertility treatments led to this little guy. Any day now,” He nods, eyes still glued to his hand on your stomach.
“How, ugh…how do we find her?” He asks.
“She always makes herself known. She’s never not been in one of these. Bit of a drama queen,” you say. Dean nods slightly and you reach up, lifting his chin to meet his eyes. “You can stop panicking. This isn’t real.”
“I’m not panicking,” he says. You smile and shake your head.
“So, what’s been going on out there?” You ask him. He sighs and his hands come to rest on your waist.
“We got you to the hospital and they didn’t have a clue. It got even weirder when you started getting hurt randomly. Whatever happens here, happens to you for real. A burn, broken ribs…just before I got here, you ended up with a gunshot wound or something,” he says. You frown and nod.
“Yea, that was a weird one. Very…Bonnie and Clyde,” you tell him. He nods slightly.
“We don’t have a lot of time. She’s draining your body. You were on a ventilator, but we had to get you back to the bunker for the spell. We have an hour, maybe,” he says. You frown and shake your head, as you think.
“I don’t know what to do, Dean. I’ve tried to kill her, I have. But she…”
“Knows what you’re thinking before you do. Right,” he says, nodding. You sigh and runs your hands over your face.
“Okay. Best way to find her is to play her game. So, we just…go about our business,” you tell him, taking a step back. “Dinner.” You turn back to your cutting board and pick the knife up before a pain shoots through your side causing you to scream out. Dean rushes to your side and wraps an arm around your waist.
“What is it??” He asks. You shake your head, cradling your stomach.
“Something’s wrong,” you say, dropping to your knees. Dean goes down with you, holding you close.
“I’ll say so,” another voice says from the other side of the room. You both look up to find the witch standing in the entrance to the kitchen. “You aren’t the Dean I created.” You scream out again and grab at your stomach.
“Stop this!!” Dean tells her. The witch smirks and crosses her arms.
“It’s only a matter of time now,” she says.
***
Rowena’s sitting in the chair still, the spell book open in her lap. Sam and Cas are both standing in the room, waiting.
“This book,” Rowena starts, flipping pages delicately. “It’s…ancient.”
Your body begins to thrash in the bed and they exchange looks before rushing to your side. Cas tries to hold you steady as Sam checks your pulse.
“She’s fading fast,” he says, frowning up at Cas.
***
Forever Tags: @roseblue373
Jensen Tags: @call-me-mrs-winchester
Dream Warriors: @aylacavebear @winharry @djs8891 @suckitands33 @rickgrimeswifeu @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @foxyjwls007 @alisyacsa @lailawinchesterr @urinternetmom @justrealizedimmascifygurl @kr804573 @thej2report @just-levyy @snowayumi @deans-baby-momma @demons-eats-pie-too @brightlilith @kazsmr67 @onlyangel444
#fanfic#fanfiction#supernatural#spn#dean winchester#reader insert#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean x reader#dream warriors#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic
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Deadly Proposal: Part Five
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.5k
Warnings: angst, drug use (cocaine), heartbreak
Summary: Amber takes it a step too far when she throws a party at Dean's house. She crosses a line completely when she reverts back to her old self, and you are done breaking your back for her.
Deadly Proposal Masterlist
Square Filled: force feeding for @badthingshappenbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
The fight with your sister and Dean made it so you couldn’t sleep well last night. You slide out of bed, throw on something to wear that’s semi-appropriate, and head down to the kitchen. You’re not expecting to see anyone but Sonja, so you’re surprised when Amber is sitting at the kitchen island. She gives you a side glance but doesn’t say anything to you.
“I thought you were leaving.”
“I know you want me gone but my boyfriend didn't show.”
“I never said I wanted you gone,” you sigh. “I was frustrated yesterday, and I said something I didn’t mean. I’m sorry.”
“Whatever,” she shrugs. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”
You sit at the kitchen counter and turn to her.
“Why don’t you and I go into town today and look for jobs? You said you were going to try.”
“Yeah, maybe we can do that later.”
“You need to do it sooner rather than later. Dean only gave you a week here.”
“What are you, my mom?” she scoffs.
She leaves her untouched food on the counter and storms to her room. Your shoulders sag in defeat but you don’t dwell for long. Sonja takes her food away and sets a plate in front of you with a kind smile on her face.
“Thanks, Sonja.”
As you eat, you think about Dean and your fight. Was it a fight? You know you’re not supposed to feel anything for him since you’re just a blood bag for him but the more he drinks from you, the more you crave him. Not just him, but his time and attention as well. You want to know so much about him but he doesn’t give you much to work with. He’s so mysterious and it’s driving you insane.
The thing with Amara isn’t sitting well with you either. You hated how jealous you got when she came over. She’s so beautiful, and may or may not have been involved with Dean. You subconsciously touch the wounds on your neck that have mostly healed. What did she mean when she said your blood was special? She said that she’d never smell anything like it, but doesn’t she smell blood all the time? No, that was carnal behavior. Dean talked to her but you’re not sure what he said to her. Does he even care?
No, screw this. You’re not going to sit here and continue to wonder. You’re going to get answers now. After you’re done eating, you walk upstairs to where Dean’s office is. Your hand hovers over the doorknob as doubt begins to creep inside your mind. Would he give you the time of day? Would he send you to your room like a petulant child?
“I can hear you breathing, you know,” Dean says from inside.
It’s now or never. You open the door and walk inside. Dean is sitting at his desk typing quickly on his laptop.
“What are you doing?”
“Nosy much?” he smirks.
“I can’t help it.” You shrug. “I’m bored and you’re not paying attention to me.”
Dean chuckles and leans back in his chair to give you his undivided attention.
“If you must know, I’m working.”
“You have a job?” you gasp in a teasing tone.
Dean shakes his head with a smile he can’t resist. “Yes.”
“What is it you do?”
“Nothing you need to know about.”
You walk over to his desk, sit across from him, and cross your legs.
“Do you realize you’re always brooding or does it come naturally to you?” Dean rolls his eyes and continues typing. “So, where’s your brother? I’m assuming you have one, right?”
“Are we doing this right now?”
“Fine.” You pause. “Do you have any parents?” He doesn’t reply. “I’m going to keep asking you questions until you answer.”
“Fine.” Dean groans and pushes his laptop away to pay attention to you. “You have five minutes. Go.”
“How old are you?”
“Over half a millennium. Seven hundred and sixty-two years if you want to get specific.”
“How did you become a vampire?”
“I was working a hunt when I was human. Vampires. They got to me before I could get to them. I’ll spare you the bloody details.”
“What do you do for work?”
“I help women escape their abusers.”
You’re taken aback. You did not expect that to come from him. You want to know more but then you’d use up your five minutes and you need to more about him.
“You made it sound like you had a family. Any siblings?”
“Dead.”
“Parents?”
“Dead.”
“Are all your friends dead, too?” Dean cracks a smile and looks away to try and hide it. Your smile fades slowly. “Are you going to kill me when you’re done with me?”
“No.”
“Why me? Why take me out of everyone you could have taken?”
“I already told you.”
“Yeah, my ‘special blood’,” you scoff. “What does that mean? Amara said I had special blood, too. What makes me special?”
“You remind me of someone I used to know. She had the same blood you did. In fact, you two are more similar than I’d care to admit. Maybe I don’t want to be alone anymore. Maybe she was the best thing to have happened to me in a long time, and I want to have that again.” Your mouth goes agape as you try and process his words. He clears his throat and pulls his laptop closer to him. “Times up. Now get out and let me work.”
That’s more than you thought you’d get so you won’t complain. You get up as he continues typing, and you walk to the door slowly. You look back at him but he doesn’t spare you another glance. Since you don’t want to see Amber and Dean doesn’t want to hang with you, you decide to hang out in your room for the next few hours either reading, playing video games, or browsing Amazon for new stuff for your room.
It’s nearing dinner time so you get out of bed to see what Sonja has made. When you open the door, you hear music blasting from downstairs and commotion that sounds like chatter coming from a huge crowd. You take the stairs down two at a time to see people filing into Dean’s house. Strangers who are already inside hold red cups filled with God only knows what. This is a party. Dean would never throw a party and you didn’t, and there is only one person here that would.
You push past everyone to get to the living room where Amber is sitting on the couch with two nasty-looking men. Unkempt hair, dirty clothes, and yellow nails.
“Amber! What the hell are you doing?!”
“It’s a party!” she grins. “I was bored of staying in this house with nothing to do.”
“Fuck, Amber! This isn’t your house.”
“It’s not yours either. Plus, Dean is almost always gone. He won’t mind, I’m sure.”
How did you ever think you could change her? How did you ever think she would be willing to change? You’re about to respond to her when you feel a hand wrap around your arm. Dean pulls you away from Amber and to an empty room nearby. He shoves you inside the room and slams the door behind him with a deadly glare on his face.
“Dean, I am so sorry. I didn't know she was doing this. All these people just showed up,” you stutter. “God, she always does shit like this. I shouldn’t have brought her here.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Dean glares. “Get rid of them.”
“Yeah, you got it.”
“I mean it, Y/N. I am a vampire and this party is filled with blood bags. Get rid of them before I do.”
Your eyes widen when you realize the threat behind his words. You leave the room and push through the sea of people that seemed to get bigger from ten minutes ago. You grab a few cups from people but they pass you by without another thought.
“Party’s over! You need to leave!” you shout over the loud music. No one is listening to you so you push your way to the DJ who is spinning the record player. “Hey! You need to stop. The party is over!”
“Get lost,” he says and continues playing music.
The control is slowly leaving your body and you start to panic. People are doing body shots off of other people, some are in the pool half-naked, and some are playing beer pong and doing drugs, among them is Amber. From the DJ stand, you can see over everyone’s head and to the couch where you left Amber. There are white lines on the table, one of which she sniffs up her nose. You don’t think anyone can hear your heart break over the music.
You jump off the platform and push through the crowd to get to her. She sniffs up another line of drugs when you yank on her hair.
“What the fuck?”
“Are you serious right now?”
“Great, it’s the fun police,” she giggles with her friends. She grabs her alcohol bottle and takes a few swigs. “You need to lighten up, Y/N. Have fun. Get drunk. Get laid. Where’s Dean?”
Tears prick the back of your eyes. “This isn’t funny, Amber. This is my life. You come in and ruin everything! You’re poison and a parasite. I don’t even know why I helped you in the first place!”
Amber glares but she is too high to care enough to bite back.
“Let’s play Seven Minutes in Heaven!” she shouts. A few people cheer her on as she shugs the rest of her alcohol. Some drops fall from her mouth when she pulls the bottle away but she wipes it away with the back of her hand. “Y/N, you go first!”
“No, I’m not playing, Amber. Seriously, the party is over.”
Amber doesn’t listen and spins the bottle on the now drug-free table. The bottle spins and lands on a spot that’s right behind you, and she grins when she sees who is standing there.
“Dean, you gotta go in the closet with Y/N.”
You turn swiftly and see Dean standing there with an emotionless face. Shit, he looks pissed. Someone grabs your shoulder and pushes you and Dean into the nearest closet. The door closes before you can say anything.
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.
“I don’t care about the party, anymore.” Dean steps closer to you, puts a hand on the wall behind you, and leans in closer to you. “What are you doing to me?”
“What do you mean?” you whisper.
“I can’t get you out of my head. You’re so different from her.” You can only assume he’s talking about the woman before you. He’s so close that your heart is racing a million miles a second. He leans in so close that you think he is going to kiss you but he doesn’t. He’s stopping himself as if kissing you is the most horrible thing to do. You sigh in disappointment which Dean picks up on. “Fuck it.”
He turns back to you, grabs both sides of your head, and kisses you so deeply that your knees immediately go weak. He holds you close and takes complete control over the kiss. His lips mold to yours like they were always meant to be there. His tongue touching yours sends sparks flying down your body. Your head is swirling too quickly for you to keep up, and all you can smell is him.
He finally pulls away from you and you lean against the wall to steady yourself. Dean doesn’t say a word and leaves the closet since the seven minutes are up. You touch your lips with a shaky hand as you force yourself to calm your racing heart and mind. Amber is gone from the couch when you leave the closet but you don’t care about her. You storm over to the DJ who is taking a water break and snatch the microphone from the stand.
“Party is over. Get out. The police have been called and are on their way!”
That does it for most. They scatter like startled cats and the rest leave because everyone else is. Soon, the house is empty and covered with trash and empty bottles. You’ll clean this later but right now, there is one person on your mind who you need to deal with. It’s not hard to find your sister when she is vomiting her guts out in the downstairs bathroom. You don’t care if you get vomit on you. You yank her away from the toilet by her hair and pull her toward the door.
“Wait, Y/N, I’m sorry. Please don’t do this,” she cries.
“You’re done, Amber. You’re not living here anymore.”
“Please, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again,” she sobs.
You drag her to the front door and throw her out on her ass. She has tears running down her face and looks at you with a heartbroken look.
“Please, Y/N, don’t do this to me.”
“No, I am not doing this again. Go find somewhere else to sleep, and go find someone else who will give a shit about you because I am done.”
With that, you slam the door in her face. You start to clean the house from the partygoers but that doesn’t distract you from Amber’s cries on the front porch. You continue to ignore her until she stops which means she either fell asleep on the porch or she left. A quick check through the window tells you it’s the latter.
Amber stumbles from the house in tears and down the long driveway to the road. She has no idea where she is going to go but maybe there is a homeless shelter that might take her for the night. She pulls her thin jacket tighter against herself since it’s starting to get cold outside. She walks further down the road when she hears the rumble of a car behind her. Maybe she can hitch a ride to town.
She turns and puts her hand out to avoid being blinded by the headlights. The car slows down next to her, and the driver rolls down the passenger side window.
“Can I get a ride into town, please?”
“Hop in,” the man says.
Amber is quick to hop inside the car where the heater is gently blowing.
“Sorry if I seem like a mess. My sister just kicked me out of her life, basically. I know I’m a fuck up. I fuck up all the time. I understand why she would but she’s my sister. We’re supposed to stick together through thick and thin, you know? So I do a bit of drugs. So what?”
“You poor girl,” the man says. “I can help you.”
Amber looks up and sees he hasn’t moved the car since she got in. She glances over at him in confusion. He has a beer belly, hairy arms, a scraggly beard, and dark eyes.
“How?”
The man grins with sharp fangs where his canines should be. He grabs Amber and sinks his teeth into her neck. Amber screams for her life but no one is around to hear them. He’s right about one thing: poor girl.
x
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#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester angst#supernatural#supernatural fic#supernatural fanficition#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fluff#supernatural angst
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You're The Only Hell Your Mama Ever Raised | Dean Winchester x m!reader [NSFW/MDNI]
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ You're The Only Hell Your Mama Ever Raised, Warrant with dean Winchester please? ❞
: ̗̀➛ After ten years of living with Bobby, you decided to join the Winchester brothers with hunting; four years later, things between you and Dean start to get a little more complicated than just hunting partners.
trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ alcohol consumption, praise kink, swearing, blowjobs, cum swallowing
↳ word count: 1545
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
It was such a vivid memory that you could hear Bobby talking in the twilight hours of the night, hushed tone and grumbling with every other sentence, almost as if he had ever regretted taking you under his wing the same way that Rufus had; they were the closest thing that you had to parents, and with Rufus halfway across the country working on a case, it was down to Bobby to keep an eye on you.
But you couldn’t tell who he was talking to, you couldn’t hear who was on the other send of that fucking phone, but you figured that it was likely to be either Rufus or John Winchester - an old friend of his who had a little bit of trouble with his own boys, the youngest of which was the same age as you.
“It’s time that boy was shippin’ out,” Bobby grumbled, and you knew without seeing him that he was shaking his head and stressing himself out. “And I mean come hell or high water. He’s old enough now, he should be in his own home with a good damn job. Not still bouncing between my place and Rufus’ place… set him up with Dean and Sam? Are you stupid? He isn’t a hunter!”
You waited for the inevitable as you scratched the side of your neck and chewed at the inside of your lip, not really sure how to react to such a suggestion yourself; you had known Dean and Sam since you were kids, but it was different now you were all grown up.
You hadn’t seen them for years, and there was no doubt in your mind that they had changed a lot more than you ever did.
“He smokes and spits and drinks and fights, sure,” Bobby scoffed. “But that’s on me - I let him get away with it and don’t tell him off properly… yeah, no, no, his friends do all look like trouble - but I wouldn’t expect anythin’ less… no, he sleeps pretty much all day and he’s never around at night - you’d think he was a vamp til you saw his teeth… I just… where’s the boy I used to cuddle? He was so little, and such a nice kid… where’d I go wrong?”
You wanted to go down and reassure him that it wasn’t his fault how you turned out; Bobby and Rufus did everything for you, they never gave up on you no matter what you were like.
You could understand why he was so frustrated, but you didn’t want him to sit there blaming himself at all. So, you crept down to where he was in the kitchen, and waited for him to hang up before you hugged him tightly and shook your head.
“You didn’t go wrong with me anywhere, Bobby,” you murmured to him. “You and Rufus are the best dads a guy could ask for.”
Bobby sighed heavily, although he couldn’t help but to hug you back as he frowned. “Ten good years you’ve been with me, kid - and it’s like suddenly I don’t know you no more.”
You pulled away and cleared your throat, nodding slowly. “I’ll go find the Winchester boys. They’ll put me on the right track, don’t worry.”
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
Four years, you had been on the road with Sam and Dean, now; you checked in with Bobby and Rufus as often as you could and went to visit whenever you got the chance, but you were happy with the boys in all honesty.
But it was a slow night tonight, on the way to the next town hoping that there would be a case, you and Dean were forced to share a room, as there were only two left in the motel and Sam was… preoccupied with someone who worked at a local pub.
“You’re not the only hell Bobby ever raised, y’know,” Dean chuckled, shaknig his head as he took a long swig from his bottle of beer.
You shrugged as you hummed softly, nursing your glass of vodka as if it would last all night. “Yeah, Rufus tried to tell me that - but you know me, I only ever do things that my way… and to think, Bobby thought I was a good boy just goin’ through some phase.”
He grinned, doing his best not to laugh as he quirked a brow. “You? Good?”
“You can’t say much anyway,” you mused. “You’re the only hell your mama ever raised.”
He nodded, pursing his lips slightly as he struggled to hold back the laugh. “Maybe so, but at least I didn’t try and pretend to be good.”
You shook your head as you licked your lips, quirking a brow. “Remember when your dad used to dump you at Bobby’s and we’d sneak out all the time?”
“Yeah, ‘cause you were always doing it so I went along - it was only fair,” he pointed out. “But you know how it went down when Dad found out I snuck out… wouldn’t let me have no fun.”
“Don’t worry,” you told him. “Two more years to make it sixteen, then you’ll see - we’ll both have changed our ways.”
Dean put his beer bottle down, crossing the room as he raked his eyes over you, swallowing thickly before dropping to his knees between your legs. “Well, if we only got two more years to make some trouble… why don’t we raise a little hell ourselves?”
You started to chew at the inside of your lip, breath hitching in your throat as you looked down at him and noticed that sparkle in his green eyes; you nodded, which only earned you a playful smack to the side of the knee.
“C’mon, be a good boy and don’t act coy,” Dean told you softly. “Tell me.”
You nodded again, clearing your throat and almost gulping. “I’m sure we can raise a little hell.”
Slowly, he ran his hands up your legs, settling his fingers between them so that he could feel the outline of your cock; gently and carefully, he started to palm it through the dense and coarse fabric. “This okay?”
You stifled a moan as you nodded. “Y-yessir.”
He grinned. “I like that. You want me to keep goin’?”
You couldn’t even stifle your moan anymore, letting it out with a shuddering breath as you raised your hips a little and practically squeaked out for his touch; Dean helped you slowly, pulling your jeans and boxers down to your ankles before wrapping his hand around your cock and giving it a few firm pumps.
With great control, Dean slowly licked a stripe from the base to the tip and hummed softly.
“Don’t stop,” you groaned out softly, and when he finally took you into his mouth, you felt like that was it.
Fuck raising hell, you never wanted the sensation to end; his mouth was so warm and wet, his tongue worked you so expertly and when he used one hand to massage your balls and the other to wrap around your cock and stroke it - fuck.
You didn’t want anything else in the world. Your hand managed to find its way into his hair, tugging at the short brown strands softly as you tilted your head back and stared at the ceiling for a moment before closing your eyes tightly shut.
Letting yourself drown in the feeling of his mouth around you. The soft sounds of his mouth as he took every inch of you one bit at a time; his eyes closed as he focused on nothing but making sure that you felt as good as possible.
Even the soft little moans he made around your cock only spurred you on more and more as your breathing grew more ragged and harsh by the second, doing your best not to buck your hips and fuck his mouth as hard and fast as you could.
But fuck, when he started to twist his hand a little bit, you were nearly completely over the fucking edge.
Dean’s movements picked up as he realised how close you were getting, almost desperate to taste your cum in his mouth; his spit and your precum mixing so that his mouth squelched a little around you; you could already feel it coming, your toes beginning to curl in your shoes as you heard him gag and grunt around you.
Your grip on his hair grew tighter as you gently bucked your hips against him, needing nothing more than to know what it felt like to cum in that pretty and smart mouth of his. You buckled, thighs shaking as you yanked at his hair one last time and, without warning, finally came.
To his credit, Dean didn’t stop, still sucking and licking your cock until it was perfectly clean, a long trail of spit from his mouth when he pulled away at last, looking up at you with a massive fucking grin.
“Fuck,” you breathed out, wiping sweat from your forehead as you realised just how fucking weak you were from your own orgasm. “You weren’t kidding about raising hell, huh?”
Dean shook his head as he laughed softly. “Nope… but if you wanna, we can keep goin’, maybe see just how far we can get until the morning.”
if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare even if it's £1, then please consider making a donation to help Tahani to save her family. Please, every little contribution does genuinely help!
#mlem writes#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x yn#dean winchester oneshot#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x male reader#dean winchester#supernatural x reader#supernatural x you#supernatural x y/n#supernatural x yn#supernatural oneshot#supernatural one shot#supernatural imagine#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fic#supernatural x male reader#supernatural#spn x reader#spn x you#spn x y/n#spn x yn#spn oneshot
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I did it. I started writing fanfiction again. It only took forever. It is Supernatural and Destiel centered so if it's your cup of tea, check it out.
"Make me a freakin' angel then!” The words tumbled out from between Dean's lips in rapid fire before he even realized what he was saying. When his brain finally caught up with his mouth, his jaw snapped shut and he bit down hard on his tongue
#spn#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#castiel#dean winchester#deancas#destiel#sam winchester#jack kline
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One Hell Of An Agent
Sam Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: After weird deaths start happening and your friend becomes a victim of it, two men appear at your door for questioning and your day turns into the weirdest you've ever lived.
Warnings: SMUT, size kink (if you squint), oral (f. recieving), big d sam (obviously), dean gets forgotten lmao, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), piv, tit sucking, sam is a sweetheart, pet names (doll, baby, beautiful), a bit of body insecurity but, as i said, sam is a gentleman, reader is shorter and overall smaller then sam, use of y/n, NOT PROOF READ, english isn't my first language (if i forgot anything TELL ME)
Read it on AO3
WC: 6.1k
You can learn how to change the "Y/N" for your actual name here
enjoy your meal babies, mwah mwah
It was supposed to be just another day where you went to work to get pennies in exchange for spending close to 12 hours in front of a computer screen, get back home to drink until you decided you should take a shower and sleep. Then repeat.
You, standing in your living room with a circle of kitchen salt around you and two men who were supposedly FBI agents holding shotguns and the ghost of an old woman trying to kill you, wasn't in your plans.
They both had arrived at your house in suits earlier that day, knocking on your door. You groaned and got up from the couch, leaving your beer bottle settled on the coffee table. Once you opened the door you widened your eyes at the two men standing there.
The taller one greeted himself first. He had a – almost – shoulder length brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes. To say you were shocked at how handsome he looked was an understatement. The shorter one had deep green eyes and short hair, he was pretty too but his partner…
“Hello, I'm Agent Page, this is my partner, Agent Plant” He said, showing you his badge and nodding to Plant, him copying what his partner did.
You furrowed your eyebrows, recognizing the names from the Led Zeppelin band.
“Plant and Page as in…the Led Zeppelin guys?” You questioned and they shared a look. The shorter one stepped foward, giving you a once over, clearly checking you out.
“Just a coincidence Ma'am” He said, smiling at you and you nodded, still a bit skeptical.
You opened the door wider for them both to get in.
“Come in, please. Have a seat” You said, gesturing to the couch and they sat besides each other. Page eyed the beer at the coffee table in front of him and you cringed.
“Sorry, I wasn't expecting the FBI at my door” You chuckled lightly and took the beer bottle to the kitchen in the other room. When you came back, both their eyes were on you and you felt a bit intimidated.
“Well…why are the feds at my house…?” You asked, sitting at the armchair and resting your hands on your lap, fidgeting nervously with your fingers.
Page put his elbows on his knees, his fingers crossing in front of him as he leaned forward to talk closer to you. You took notice of his big frame wondering how someone could be so…wide?
“Miss…”
“Y/N” You filled in the gap.
“Miss Y/N” He said, licking his lower lip with his tongue “We are here to ask about the recent murders around”
“Oh” You said. You knew well about one of the victims, a friend of yours. It had been a little over 2 weeks since her death but you always went with the mantra to keep going no matter what. At the memory of her you felt your throat restrict and you blinked back tears.
Page seemed to notice and put a gentle hand on your knee to comfort you. When you looked up he was smiling slightly and you calmed down.
“We know Beth was your friend and we are sorry for your loss” He said, squeezing your knee “But we'd like to ask you some questions, if you don't mind”
You nodded and looked between the both of them, taking a deep breath.
“Yeah…yeah of course” You said and he nodded, pulling his hand away from you, the warmth still lingering where he had placed it.
“Did you notice any weird behaviors before your friend passed? Like she was distant, cold…?” Plant asked and you made a face trying to remember anything. You recorded a night you two went out
“Five days or so before she died…” You started, turning your head down to stare at your fingers over your lap. “We went to a bar near my house and she kept glancing behind her, nervous, on edge, as if something would jump her at any moment. When I asked her what was wrong she looked at me, terrified, grabbed her things and bolted”
You sighed thinking you should've went with her now that she was gone.
“I tried calling, texting. Nothing. For those five days I didn't hear anything from her then…they called me announcing that she was gone” You started tearing up again and closed your eyes to hold them back.
“She didn't have anyone else, y'know, I should've been there for her, I–” You choked on an inevitable sob and covered your face with your hands. Then you felt the taller man's hand on your knee again, his thumb stroking your leg.
“We are truly sorry, it wasn't your fault” He said, a voice so comforting and calm you felt it in your heart.
You took your hands away from your face and sniffed, letting out a slight chuckle. You felt a bit embarrassed to be crying in front of them both.
“I'm sorry” You said and brushed your hair back with your hand “I think this was it. She was always a very quiet girl but sweet, caring, I couldn't think of anyone that would do this to her”
The men nodded and looked at each other, a silent conversation you weren't a part of. You looked down to see Page's hand still on your knee and you smiled to yourself. What a nice fed.
"Thanks for the information Ma'am" Page said. When they looked back at you, he patted your knee lightly and got up with his partner. You stood up as well to accompany them to the door, them both behind you.
You opened the door and looked at them both going out, your gaze lingering longer on the taller one, looking him up and down.
They turned to you with a tiny card in his hand and gave it to you, your finger brushing against his.
“If you remember anything, give us a call. Thank you for your time” He smiled warmly along with the green eyed Agent.
“Will do, thank you so much” You said, smiling back seeing them walk away to the Impala parked in front of your house.
You kept your gaze locked until they drove away, snapping you out of your daze getting back in your house and locked the door, smiling like an idiot at the image of the handsome guy you just met.
Inside the Impala, Dean kept glancing towards Sam, who had his face buried into the newpaper about the couple murders happening.
“Dude” Dean finally said, a grin on his face. Sam looked up at him and made a questioning face at his side profile.
“What?” He asked
Dean laughed lightly and looked at his brother.
“She was eating you with her eyes” Dean said and at that Sam's full attention was on him, lowering the paper with a confused face.
“Who? Y/N?” He asked and Dean nodded. Sam sighed and rolled his eyes at his brother. “Dean, c'mon” He said.
“I'm serious, the look she gave you when we left, staring you up and down like a feast” Dean laughed mischievously, looking for a couple seconds at Sam's shocked expression. “She's pretty, y'know, if you don't want it, I'll have it”
“Shut up Dean” He said but he couldn't help thinking about your looks towards him and the impulse he felt to comfort you with a hand on your leg when he realized you were upset.
Dean laughed and shook his head at the stubbornness of his brother, driving back to the cheap motel they were staying at.
Your day went by as usual, some couple more beers here, a whiskey there, some movie you had on the TV.
You ended up falling asleep on the couch for a couple hours until about 2AM when you heard a loud thud in your house and your entire body entered fight or flight mode.
You got up and kept your ears trained for any more sounds until you heard your stove, the gas being poured out in your house and the color drained from your face. What the hell?
You went into the kitchen and for sure the smell of the gas hit hard on your nose and you gagged.
Suddenly the door to the kitchen closed behind you and you jumped in shock. Your heart started ringing in your ears and your hands were trembling.
“Hello?! Is anybody there?!” You asked, your voice shaking as you went to the door. Locked. You started to panic, were you crazy? Was this a dream?
There was a noise behind you and you turned, seeing the knife cabinet open and you glued yourself to the door, trying to get the lock open when a kitchen knife started to float up and towards you.
You screamed and banged at the door.
“Help! Someone, please!” You screamed and the knife was plunged in the door, close to your head and your body fell back in the ground, tears rolling down your cheeks when everything stopped.
You slowly got up and tried to open the door. Success. You scrambled out of your kitchen and unlocked the front door, sprinting out of your house terrified.
You remembered the card the Agent gave you. You didn't know if it was okay to call him this late but you just almost died. You thought he could make an exception.
With trembling fingers, you dialed the number on your phone, putting it to your ear. Please pick up, please pick up.
“Hello? Agent Page speaking, who is this?” He said with a gruff voice, he was definitely sleeping and you felt a bit bad for waking him up.
“Agent?” You practically whispered, your voice shaky with fear.
“Y/N?” He recognized your voice and made a confused face, sitting up on the bed. “What's wrong?”
“I– I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have called I–” You spoke fast, nervous. He took notice of that “Something happened” You said simply.
“We are on our way” He said and slipped on his shoes, already on outside clothes. He nudged Dean to wake him up. “Hang in there”
“Okay” You said in a whisper as he turned the call off, biting your thumbnail in order to stay calm in the circumstances.
Dean woke up to see Sam getting his bag ready in a frenze, a worried look in his younger brother's face.
“Y/N called, something happened, she seemed stressed, let's go” He said, throwing Dean his bag, the oldest groaning as he grabbed the keys for the Impala.
As they drove there, Sam couldn't help but get even more stressed the long it took for them to arrive. He wondered if you were okay, if you had gotten hurt, or worse. When they arrived, you were sitting on your porch, legs tucked close to your body as you shivered.
When you heard the noise of the car you got up. The two came out and you were a bit weirded out to see them in normal clothes but relieved nonetheless.
When they got closer you breathed out in relief, the taller of the two coming closer then Plant, grabbing your shoulders and eyeing you up and down, looking for any visible damage.
“Are you hurt? What happened?” He asked and you shook your head at the first question.
“I don't know…If I explain it I'll sound crazy” You said
“Oh, sweetheart, believe me, we know crazy” The green eyed Agent said and you looked at him, the nickname foreign but you brushed it off.
“I was sleeping in my couch when I woke up with a loud bang” You began. “I got up to see that my stove started leaking gas and…when I wnt to the kitchen, the door…It shut behind me, locked” You said, shakily and Page brushed his hand on your shoulder, the same way he had done to your knee earlier “I couldn't get out and a knife started to fucking float, it charged at me, caught the door and then it all just…stopped”
“I was able to leave my house and…call you” She said and looked into his eyes, the comforting gaze seeping into her. “I'm sorry, I know it's late”
“Don't bother, it's fine. Let's try and see how we can help you, okay?” He said
You looked at him, puzzled, tilting your head at him
“You believe me?” You asked and he let out an aired laugh in amusement.
“What if I tell you we aren't truly FBI agents” He said.
“Oh” You widened your eyes and looked between the both of them, shameful smiles on their faces. “Right”
“Get in, we will explain everything we can to you” He said and you nodded getting inside your house.
After a couple minutes you learned that they were actually brothers, the tall one was named Sam and the shorter was Dean. They told you all about what they did, the family business, how real the supernatural was and tried to explain that you experienced something ghost-like.
You were absolutely dumbfounded as they said all that. It was hard to believe that, how is all of it real if you hadn't seen anything your whole life similar to what they explained to you? Just now?
“Okay so…you both are like…the Ghostbusters?” But hotter. You noted, mentally.
“Basically, yeah” Dean said.
You sat there with your hands over your face. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or cry at the situation.
The brothers walked around with the so called EMFs, machines you learned could sense the presence of ghosts.
You couldn't help but glance at Sam. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his hair falling around his face and from time to time he bit his lower lip.
You were entranced at how annoyingly handsome he was until loud beeping from Dean's EMF startled you.
Sam whooped his head towards him and they shared silent looks. Sam turned to his bag and got a shotgun out and you widened your eyes at him. He took notice of that.
“They are loaded with rock salt, don't worry” He said and you made a confused face. He smiled at you and your heart skipped a beat. “Let's say…ghosts don't like salt. Salt and iron are their weaknesses” He said and you hummed in acknowledgement getting up and going to your fireplace to get an iron rod.
Sam stared at you as you walked back to him and you shrugged.
“It's iron, you said it could keep them at bay” You said and he nodded.
A loud noise startled all of you, in the kitchen, where Dean was the closest to and he cooked his gun, Sam doing the same and protecting you with his body.
“Stay behind me” He murmured to you and you nodded, iron rod in your hand prepared for any attack.
“Come on you son of a bitch!” Dean said and, as if on cue, the ghost of an old lady appeared in your kitchen and you gasped, recognizing her immediately.
“Mrs. Greene?” You whispered and apparently she heard you because in a moment she was there and in the other she was behind you.
“Y/N, watch out!” Sam yelled in front of you and you turned around, swinging your weapon and making her vanish for a couple of moments.
You were breathing heavily, your ears ringing until Sam snapped you out of your daze, turning you around by grabbing at your arm.
“Are you okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice as he gave you a once over.
“Yeah, I think” You replied and Dean appeared as quick as possible making a circle of salt around you and Sam stepped out of it, letting your arm go.
“You need to stay there, she can't get you because of the salt” Dean said.
“You know her?” Sam asked and you looked at him, nodding.
“She was Beth's mother. Died in a car accident that…my father caused. Me and Beth bonded through their deaths but I guess her mom didn't really approve of that” You said, smiling sadly to yourself.
“Where is she buried?” Dean questioned.
“The cemetery near the only church in town. About 5 miles from here” You replied and Dean gave Sam a quick nod as he got his bag and gave his brother extra ammunition.
“I'll go do the dirty job, you, protect her, make sure that bitch doesn't kill her” Dean said as he went out the door, shutting it behind him.
You sat on the ground, in the middle of the salt circle, mindlessly playing with the iron rod in your hand. Sam looked down at you. You looked more than upset, understandably.
“Everything is going to be okay” He reassured you and you looked at him with a gentle smile. Until you weren't smiling anymore and instead was looking behind him.
“Sam, behind you!” You said, getting up again and he turned shooting the ghost and she reappeared behind you, outside of the circle.
You turned around, shaking and lifting your weapon at her. She looked down at the salt circle and the creepiest smile you've ever seen opens up in her face, sending shivers down your spine.
Suddenly the windows broke open and a strong gust of wind came in with full force. You covered your head to protect it from the glass until you looked down and the salt circle was broken around you.
Your heart dropped as she started approaching you and Sam shot her again from behind you.
To your dismay, she was behind him again, and before you could warn him about her she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and threw him against a wall.
“Sam!” You screamed and she turned to you again, slowly walking towards your frame and you backed away, the iron rod propped in front of you protectively.
She knocked the rod out of your hand and you looked desperately at it on the ground.
Your back pressed against the wall and you closed your eyes, preparing for your death when she started screaming and you opened your eyes.
She was quite literally burning right in front of you, with her hands reaching for your throat until she was just gone, no burn marks on your ground, weirdly, and her desperation echoed through the house.
You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, your heart beating in your ears. You heard a groan and remembered Sam was basically knocked out on the other side of the room.
You rushed to him and kneeled down besides him with a hand on his cheek and the other in one of his knee.
“Sam, are you okay?” You asked as he slowly opened his eyes. When he seemed to retrieve consciousness again he breathed in deeply and scrambled to get up but you held him down by putting a hand on his chest.
“Hey, hey, it's okay, she's…gone, I guess” You said and he focused his eyes on yours when you smiled. You felt your face heat up at the look he was giving you until Dean barged in through the front door, whistling at the mess.
He looked towards both of you on the ground and made a face, holding back a smirk.
“Burned her up…Am I interrupting something?” Dean asked playfully and you felt a tad of embarrassment, helping Sam get up with a grunt.
They started to gather their stuff and you wondered how the hell you were going to clean up your whole house. Glass and salt everywhere, a hole on the wall where Sam was thrown at.
When they were all done you got each a beer. They tried to deny it but you insisted, claiming it was a thank you treat for saving your life.
You finished all your drinks, throwing the bottles away and you walked them to the door, the Impala parked in front of your house. They got out and stood outside as you smiled at them.
“Thank you, again, really, you both saved my life” You said.
“It's nothing, really, we do this everyday” Dean said with a dismissive wave. “I'm going to load the car” Dean said, giving Sam a pat on the back and a look you didn't understand but apparently Sam did, since he gave a deep breath and a practically death glare at his brother, his chest going up and down.
“So…” He started, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
“So?” You nudged, smiling up at him and biting your lower lip. His eyes stared at your mouth and you felt small under his gaze.
“You were amazing back there, you know?” He said, crossing his arms in front of him and smiling. “You knew what to do, few people can do what you did”
He complimented and you looked down, smiling like an idiot. He’s so sweet.
“Oh I just…went by logic I guess, nothing much. You said iron and I reached for iron” You said, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked up again.
“Yeah…” He said, looking from your eyes to your mouth and back up again. You decided to be a bit brave and got into your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek, holding on his shoulder for support.
When you pulled back he didn't pull away and one of his hands cupped your cheek, looking between your eyes when he leaned into you, his lips against yours in a light kiss.
You responded almost immediately, your hand going to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss and he placed his hands on your waist. You reluctantly pulled away with a hum, dazed by the kiss with your eyes still closed.
When you opened them his eyes were on your face and you felt warm again. He pulled you back in your house and you giggled in surprise when he closed the door, his hand still holding you.
“What about your brother?” You said as he turned his attention back to you, a smirk on his face when he squeezed your waist. He leaned in closer and you held your breath.
“He can wait” He whispered against your lips before kissing you again, this time more intensely then before and you hummed, burying your hand on his hair while the other stroked his chest.
You started taking his jacket off when you stopped and pulled away.
“Is this okay? I mean I'm totally fin–” He cut you off with another mind blowing kiss and you gasped.
He shrugged off his jacket, dropping it to the ground and clasping your face in both his hands.
“Does this answer your question?” He smiled teasingly and you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss his lips again and his hands grabbed your hips in response.
He brushed his tongue against your lower lip and you opened your mouth to let him explore it, moaning lowly against his mouth.
He lowered his hands to the back of your thighs, not breaking the kiss, and lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and you yelped in his mouth.
You noted he was big, you just didn't know he was this strong, lifting you in his arms as if you weighed nothing.
He walked to the kitchen and placed you on the counter, his hands going under your shirt and experimenting with his touches on your bare skin.
You whimpered, shivers running through your whole body as his big hands roamed through your burning skin.
You pulled away, your forehead touching his, a whispered “Fuck” coming out of your lips. Your hands went to the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head, leaving your torso bare besides your bra.
Sam drank you in, his adam apple bobbing when he swallowed and you felt embarrassed under his strong gaze, your hands slowly coming to wrap themselves around your stomach.
He held your wrists gently, pulling them away from you and his hands went up and down your arms.
“Don't hide from me, you're beautiful” He whispered and started to leave kisses down your neck, nibbling and biting where he noticed you liked the best with the noises leaving your mouth.
Your hand wrapped in his hair to pull him back to your lips, his kisses addicting like a drug.
He pulled away again to pull his shirt over his head, revealing his defined torso and your jaw physically dropped at the sight. He had some scars, some pale, old, others a pink tone, more recent but it just made him look even better, showing how much he had lived through. He chuckled at your reaction and settled his hands on your hips again, gently squeezing.
“See something you like?” He teased and you closed your mouth, your hands reaching slowly to touch his bare chest. He gasped at your feather-like touch on his tanned skin and you looked at him again, his eyes dark with desire.
“You're…stunning, like– I knew you were…muscular…from the get go but you're…” You trailed off and he chuckled, a bit embarrassed and leaned down to crash his lips against yours again.
His hands went to your back and unclasped your bra, helping you take it off and toss it on the ground along with the rest of your clothes.
His hands came to the front and grabbed at both your breasts, squeezing them and making you moan into his mouth. His fingers teased at your hardened nipples and you arched into his touch.
His mouth started trailing down towards your neck, your collarbone, until he got to the valley of your breasts and looked up at you. Your mouth was open, eyes hazed and deep breaths were making your chest go up and down. What a sight.
He closed his mouth into one of your nipples and you whined, the warmth of his tongue circling around it making you grasp at his locks with a certain strength that made him groan around your skin. His fingers teased the other breast until he switched sides, feasting on your breasts.
“Sam…” You gasped his name and he hummed in acknowledgement of your plea, pulling away from your breast with a smile. “Please”
He gave your lips a peck and went down your body again, leaving open mouthed kisses down your stomach until he got to the waistband of your jeans and looked at you again, asking for permission and you nodded at him.
His fingers popped open the button of your pants and opened the zipper. You lifted your hips to help him pull the clothing off and he dragged it down your legs slowly, drinking you in.
You felt a shiver run down your spine at his hungry gaze on your frame when his eyes noticed your soaked underwear.
He discarded your pants and ran his hands up your legs, his look never leaving your covered pussy. His hands stopped at your thighs as squeezed the flesh and you closed your legs instinctively.
He looked up at you and pried your legs open with his hands.
“What did I say about hiding from me?” He said, his tone deep and dominant making you swallow a whine as you spread your legs wider and he settled between them with a smirk.
He kissed your covered sex and you let out a low moan, his mouth traveled to your inner thighs, biting and kissing at the flesh, driving you insane.
“Please…” You begged, grabbing at his hair and he hummed.
“So desperate” He said against your skin, grasping your panties and pulling them down. You gasped at the cold air hitting your dripping core and he groaned at the sight.
He cupped your whole cunt with his hand, making your hips buck up into his touch and a low moan left your throat.
“Beautiful” He whispered and gave your thigh one last kiss. “Tell me if it's too much, okay?” He said and your heart melted.
“Okay” You breathed out and he smiled up at you. He took his hand away and you almost frowned when his lips wrapped around your clit and you moaned, bucking your hips against his mouth.
He smirked against you and put one hand over your hips to hold you still as he did wonders against your cunt. His tongue eating you out as if you were his last meal, ripping loud moans from your throat.
“Oh, fuck” You moaned, pulling at his hair “Sam– God” He hummed and groaned against your pussy sending jolts of pleasure through you.
He teased your hole with his finger, slowly entering you and stretching you out, hooking up and rubbing right at that spot and you moaned loudly.
“Jesus, fuck, right there– Shit” A string of curses left your mouth and he grinned proudly, adding another finger to your torture, making you cry out, his name slipping out of your lips.
You felt the knot inside of you tighten, your pussy clenching around his fingers and Sam knew you were about to cum.
“Cum for me, doll” He said and quickened his movements against you and your moans got louder.
“Fuck!” You groaned loudly as you finally came against his lips, your orgasm hitting you like a truck, your eyes closing in bliss, your fingers tightening in Sam's hair.
He helped you ride your orgams until the stimulation got almost painful and you started to try and close your legs.
“T'much, Sam–” You moaned and he pulled away, your juices shining against his face as he got up from his knees and grasped your waist tightly, smashing his lips against you, the foreign taste of yourself lingering on his tongue as he attacked your mouth.
“Taste as sweet as you look” He praises and you smirked.
You glance down at his still covered legs and crotch, the tent in his pants looked almost painful and you bit your lip. He noticed that and took you in his arms again, wrapping your legs around his hips, making your sensitive core grind against his jeans and you whined.
“As much as I'd like to bend you over that table and fuck you senseless” He said, getting closer to your ear and whispering: “I want to fuck you on a bed to see your cockdrunk face when I make you cum”
You shivered, not expecting these words coming out of his mouth and you attacked his neck with kisses and bites.
“My bedroom is down the hall, on the right” You mumbled against his skin, breathless, and he carried you to the room, his hands squeezing and digging in your ass as you continued marking his skin.
He gently placed you on the bed, kissing your lips hungrily and you led one of your hands down to his crotch, palming him through his jeans and he pulled away from your lips to groan, his forehead against yours.
“Fuck me, Sam” You breathed out and he kissed you one last time before standing up and unbuckling his belt and opening his zipper, dropping his pants to the ground and taking off his shoes.
You were staring, eating him with your eyes as he took off his boxers teasingly slow, stepping out of them and looking at your face for a reaction.
Your mouth watered and your pussy clenched around nothing. He was big. You expected him to be large, he was tall after all but you still were very shocked and wondered if you'd be able to take it all.
Sam seemed to notice your worries and grasped your chin to give your lips a comforting kiss. He wasn't cocky but he was aware of his size and knew it could be intimidating.
“We'll go slow, baby, if you want to stop, just say” He assured you and you felt all fuzzy and warm on the inside. It was hard to find men that actually cared and it seemed like you hit the jackpot with Sam. You nodded and he crawled over you, smashing your lips against his again.
He rubbed his cock up and down a couple times and lined it up with your entrance making you whine in anticipation. He slowly pushed into you and you pulled away to let your mouth hang open in a soundless moan.
Sam made sure to distract you from the pain, rubbing your thighs up and down and kissing your neck and collarbones. It took everything inside him to not pound into you. You tightened around him deliciously and he pressed his forehead against your shoulder.
“You feel so fucking good Y/N, God” He whisper-moaned against your ear and you hummed, your nails digging into his shoulders, definetly leaving marks to remind him for a couple days of this encounter.
“I feel so full, it feels so good” You moaned breathy as he was almost all the way inside you, his kisses soothing your hot skin, his fingernails marking your hips as he held back to let you adjust to his size once he was all the way inside.
You felt him in your throat and it took you a couple of moments to let the pain turn into pleasure and Sam was willing to wait as long as you needed.
When you finally stopped feeling the pain of the stretch you wiggled your hips against his cock and grabbed his cheek to give him a messy kiss.
“You can move, please” You said and he pulled back and forth, both of you moaning at the feeling, his dick hitting deeper than you thought was possible.
“Y/N” Sam moans against your shoulder, his strokes inside you making his whole body tremble with the tightness. His hand roams down your body until it reaches your lower stomach. He presses his hand down against your skin and you moan loudly. He grins, his breathing heavy as his hair makes a curtain around his face.
“Oh– fucking God!” You practically scream, your eyes rolling back as your nails scratch at his shoulder. He felt impossibly deeper and he quickened his thrusts, your whole body going limp and your mouth letting out incoherent babbles and moans of his name.
He was panting as he held himself up in his elbows to look at your fucked out face, kissing your cheeks and your lower lip.
“You look so pretty like this” He said against your skin as he kept his thrusts steady and deep. "I told you I wanted to look at your pretty face...when you came undone under me."
You felt your skin tingle, your body trembling and that familiar feeling on the pit of your stomach like a fire lighting up.
"The looks you were giving me..." He groaned against your skin, his hips sttutering as his orgasm came closer "I wanted to make those beautiful eyes roll back the moment I saw you" He admitted, giving your neck a harsh bite, definetly leaving a mark.
“Sam!” You moaned out, your hand tangling itself into his hair. “I'm cumming” You warned and he quickened his pace and your head shot back, exposing your throat to him.
“Cum for me beautiful” He said, leaving a hickey just below your jaw.
You unraveled below him with a loud moan of his name, your heels digging into his ass. A few more thrusts and Sam pulled out, stroking his cock one, two, three times until he came over your stomach, groaning and panting your name.
You looked at his face, sweat sticking some hairs on his face, his eyes closed, mouth agape and his hair a mess thanks to your hands.
You smiled in a daze and traced your fingers over his face and he opened his eyes, catching you already looking back at him. He leaned down and kissed you passionately for a couple seconds until he pulled away and stood up to go to your bathroom.
He came back with a wet towel to clean you up, gentle in your sensitive sex then he left the towel on the bathroom sink and layed down on the bed beside you again, pulling you into his chest and kissing the crown of your head.
You hummed as he wrapped his arms around you, massaging your sore muscles.
“That was…” You said, not finishing. No words were able to describe what you felt.
“Yeah, it was” He confirmed, smiling.
You snuggled into his chest, your hand tracing mindless patterns against his skin. Then you started to chuckle and he looked down at you.
“What?” He said with a hint of a laugh behind his tone.
“Your brother must be pissed” You said between laughs and he started to laugh too, feeling his chest vibrating against your cheek as his hand stroked your upper arm.
“I don't care, this, you, was worth it” He said and you looked up at him with a shy smile, not knowing what else to say.
After a while of silence between the two of you you started to think a bit.
“You're leaving town soon, right?” You asked and he hummed an affirmation. You hid your frown from him. “You're welcome back anytime, you know that, right?"
You said but didn't look at his face when you felt him looking down at you and he squeezed your arm as if to say I know.
You started to fall asleep against his steady breathing, your eyes heavy.
As you were almost sleeping you felt him leave a kiss on your forehead.
“I will” He whispered and you smiled to yourself, letting yourself fall asleep in his embrace.
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A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing. Feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading. Xoxo
#sam winchester smut#sam winchester#supernatural#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fic#supernatural imagine#supernatural smut#supernatural x reader#sam winchester x female reader#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam x reader#sam x you#dean winchester#sam winchester fluff#smut
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Spell Bound
Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader
Summary: It's sex pollen...I couldn't help myself.
Warnings: cursing, use of pet names. An excessive amount of heavy SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, oral (F receiving), multiple cream pies
"I freaking hate witches," Dean mumbled as he picked the lock on the apartment door.
You chuckled softly, very used to hearing him grumble every time you were hunting a witch.
He slowly walked into the apartment and you followed in after him.
"So what exactly are we looking for?" you asked quietly.
"Big scary magic book. Sam said it's probably on or near some kind of altar."
"Big scary magic book," you muttered under your breath. "Makes perfect sense."
You sighed as you walked into the living room and noticed several bookcases lined with large books. "You've gotta be kidding me."
Dean shot you a weary smile. "Guess it might take a little longer than I thought."
"You think?"
You took one side of the room and Dean took the other. Sam had described the look of the book to the both of you, but there was really no way to be 100% certain if you found it.
About 15 minutes into your perusal, you spotted a large leather-bound book tucked under what appeared to be an altar cloth. You slowly removed the cloth, wary of what you might uncover. The book was almost exactly as Sam had described, so you had a feeling it was the right one.
"I think I found it," you said aloud.
At almost the same exact moment, a crash sounded from behind you and Dean let out a string of curses.
You spun around to see the hunter brushing off some sort of florescent pink dust from his face. "What the hell did you do?"
"I was moving some of the books and this box fell out and some powder just kinda...sprayed my face."
"Seriously?"
He looked sheepish. "I didn't even see it."
You sighed. "Great. God only knows what the hell that was."
He looked at the box carefully, but there was nothing written on it to identify the powdery substance he had inhaled. He gave you another sheepish look and shrugged. "Maybe it's not harmful."
You shot him a stony look. "Dean...it's a witch. It's not gonna be fairy dust."
He sighed, knowing you were right. He started shifting his shoulders a bit as if he was uncomfortable.
"Let's get out of here. I'll call Sam on the way back to the motel and see if he has any idea what it could be."
Dean nodded and followed you out the door. By the time you got outside the building and to the car, he was twitching like an addict in need of a fix.
"Dean?" you asked tentatively.
"My skin feels like it's on fire and--and it's like--itchy. And there's a weird feeling inside that I can't describe, but it doesn't feel nice."
"Okay...how 'bout I drive?"
He looked up at you with concerned eyes, but he handed you the keys and got into the passenger seat. You knew he must really be feeling terrible if he was letting you drive Baby.
You started the car up and pulled out of the parking spot while simultaneously calling Sam on your cell. He answered on the third ring.
"Dean got some sort of witchy powder on his face and now he's...itchy?" you said quickly in lieu of a greeting.
Sam sighed. "What are his symptoms?"
You put the phone on speaker. "Dean, what are your symptoms?"
Dean couldn't look at you and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "I feel like crawling out of my own skin, everything aches, and I'm having a hard time breathing right. Oh and I can literally smell (Y/N)'s skin, which is totally not normal!"
"You can smell my skin?"
He grumbled under his breath. "I can smell your skin and your shampoo and your goddamn body wash, and I want--fuck. What the hell is wrong with me, Sam?"
"Uh, I honestly don't know. Let me call Bobby and see if he has any ideas."
You set the phone down on the seat beside you. "Maybe you're turning into some kind of animal?"
"What?"
"Well, I mean...you can smell me...which is weird and kind of--animalistic."
"I don't think that's it," he said harshly. "My body is aching in a way I can't even begin to describe to you, but I don't think I'm morphing into anything."
You eyed him carefully, worry etched into your face. He was your closest friend and trusted hunting partner, and you hated seeing him like this. Witches scared the shit out of you...you knew what they were capable of.
"Maybe drive a little faster," he hissed.
You pressed harder on the gas and the Impala shot down the road. When your phone rang, you answered it immediately.
"So I think I might know what it is, but I have something I need to ask Dean first," Sam said.
"Okay." You looked at Dean. "Can you hold the phone? Sam wants to ask you something."
Dean took the phone from your hand, hissing as his skin made contact with yours. "What?" he grumbled.
"This is gonna be awkward, but I need to know, okay? Do you feel--umm--aroused at all?"
Dean was silent for a moment as he let his brother's question sink in. Ohhh fuuuuck, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his jeans and noticed the bulge straining against them. With the intense pain he was experiencing, he hadn't really noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Yeah."
"Okay, well the good news is, I know what it is. It's called sex pollen."
"It's called what?"
"Sex pollen. The name doesn't really matter, but you have all the symptoms. They're only going to get worse until--well until you die."
"Die? Is there a cure?"
You looked over at Dean in terror, your foot pressing down even further on the pedal. Dean's hand was shaking slightly as he put the phone on speaker so you could hear.
"You have to--uhh--well--shit. You have to umm...fuck it out."
"I have to what?"
"Dude, I know, okay? But you don't have a choice. If you don't you'll die a rather painful death."
"Son of a bitch," Dean said again. "Can I, umm, take care of it myself?"
"According to what Bobby read, the only option is actual intercourse with another person."
"How long do I have?"
You were acutely aware of Dean's close proximity to you, and now you understood the nature of his pain. Your own breathing was more labored, but you desperately tried to maintain control of yourself. Don't make it weird, (Y/N), you thought to yourself.
"30 minutes from the time of contact until...until death," Sam answered.
"30 minutes?" you gasped. You started doing the math in your head as Dean continued talking to his brother. "We have maybe 10 more minutes until we get back to the motel and that leaves about 10 until..."
Dean looked over at you, his normally green eyes dark with need. "I'm so fucked," he muttered.
"That doesn't really leave us time to find someone for you to--you know," you said worriedly.
"Shit."
"Might wanna make it fast," Sam said.
"Obviously," Dean snapped. "How long will it take to...get out of my system?"
"That depends," Sam began. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."
"Another story?"
"It could take a lot longer."
"Great," you mumbled.
"Sam, don't be there when we get there," Dean growled at his brother before hanging up the phone.
"Dean?" you questioned softly.
"Just drive, (Y/N)."
You continued driving, but your focus was most definitely not on the road. You could hear the heavy breathing and the soft pained sounds coming from the man beside you and it made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It certainly didn't help that you had wanted him for years and seeing him like this was making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't be feeling.
Dean flirted with you regularly, but he flirted with almost every person he came into contact with. It's just a part of his personality, so you never read into it. While Dean quite obviously adored you (and you him), you were not his type. You were a good fighter, sure, but where you really excelled was research. You were brilliant--almost as knowledgable as Bobby, though you still had plenty to learn. You were also significantly more--voluptuous than the women Dean gravitated to. Soft, chubby, more to love--whatever you wanna call it. As such, you'd never made any sort of move to announce your feelings for him. You didn't want to face his rejection.
"Sweetheart, if you don't speed up, I'm liable to die before we make it there," Dean hissed.
You shot him a look. "We're less than two minutes away, so don't die on me yet, Winchester."
He exhaled sharply and nodded. "I'm not gonna make it either way, (Y/N). Like you said, we don't have enough time to find a, uh--partner."
You took a deep breath. "I can't let you die."
He looked over at you and you felt his gaze boring right into your soul. "I can't do that to you."
"I really don't see how we have much of a choice here."
You pulled into the motel parking lot before he could respond.
"Let's go," you said quickly as you got out of the car and made your way to your room.
Dean was right behind you, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. As soon as the door was unlocked, Dean was pushing you through it and locking it behind you.
"Shit," he muttered. "I don't wanna hurt you."
"It's okay, Dean," you said softly. "I'm not afraid."
His eyes widened and he grabbed your chin. "You should be...I'm going to lose control."
"It's alright...use me."
He let out a low growl and squeezed your chin tighter. "I--I won't be able to make this good for you."
You pressed yourself against his body, feeling the hard ridges against you. "It's not about me. You need this."
That was all it took for Dean to let go. His lips attacked yours with a hunger you were not expecting despite the intensity of the situation. He was not at all gentle as he tore your clothes from your body, ripping his own off with equal force.
He tossed you down on the bed with shocking ease. He had absolutely no difficulty manhandling you. You weren't sure if it was the sex pollen or just him.
His lips and hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your soft skin he could possibly reach. He needed to be inside of you so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. His skin burned with each touch and his instincts screamed at him to just break you.
He moves his way down your body and you're surprised as he stops just above your core. "Dean, what are you doing?" You knew he needed a release--and soon--or he wasn't gonna make it.
A voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him this was (Y/N), his (Y/N). Even in his current state, he wanted to avoid hurting you if he could. "Need to get you ready," he grunted.
The words were barely out of his mouth before he was devouring your pussy. The sounds he made were incredible, the feeling almost electrifying. He slid two fingers in and moved them in a scissoring motion to help loosen you up.
He was only down there for a 30 seconds before he came up and locked eyes with you. "I can't hold off anymore."
You nodded. "Just let go. I'll be okay."
He knew the moment he slid inside you, he'd be a goner. Whatever tiny amount of self control he'd managed to hang onto would disappear in an instant. But he could also feel the roaring agony inside him and he needed to feed it before it devoured him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear a split second before he sheathed himself fully inside you.
You cried out--pain mixing with pleasure as his large member stretched you in ways you'd never before experienced.
Dean couldn't give you time to adjust--he was too far gone. His hips began to move and his sole focus was on his own pleasure--his own release.
His thrusts were powerful and fast, so much so that your body started to scoot farther up the bed. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, pace never faltering. The sensations were almost painful given his size, but you wouldn't have stopped him even if you could have.
"Fuck, baby--you feel so good," he grunted.
You were more than a little surprised when he spoke--you hadn't pegged him as a dirty talker. Then again, it could very well have been the pollen. The same could be said of the sounds coming from his mouth. You'd never heard such sinful noises and you loved them.
"So tight--squeezing me so good. Feels like heaven."
You squeezed his cock purposefully, making him groan each time you clenched down. He needed his release and you were gonna make sure he got it. Your own enjoyment was far from your mind--this was essentially a transaction--a lifesaving measure. You had to view it that way to protect your heart...at least that's what you told yourself.
"Baby," he moaned. "Imma fill you up--so close."
Despite the voice in your head telling you this wasn't real--that you shouldn't have any emotional attachments--you reached up and touched his face, caressing it lovingly. "Cum for me, Dean," you whispered.
His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip--hearing you say his name in the heat of the moment was a bigger turn on than he'd ever imagined. It pushed him right over the edge and he spilled inside of you with a grunt.
You lay beneath him, panting despite the minimal exertion on your part. He'd had his orgasm, but he was still moving, much to your surprise. "You're not done--?"
He shook his head. "Need more."
He pulled out and quickly flipped you over with no warning. You instinctively lifted your hips to allow him access, which he took without hesitation. His cock was still throbbing and the need still burned in his veins. His mind remained singularly focused on his relief--his pleasure.
He slammed into your pussy and set a brutal pace, earning a cry of pain from your lips. This new angle allowed him better access, sending his cock deeper inside of you. His head brushed against your cervix with each thrust, a stinging pain accompanying the pleasure.
Dean's large palm came down on your ass with a hard smack, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as he landed another slap to your round cheek.
"Fuck baby, you like that don't you?" Smack. "You like it when I slap this sexy ass?" Smack. "Fuck--squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." Smack.
He was right though, you loved it. You always had, but there was something extra enjoyable about having your ass smacked by Dean Fucking Winchester. Even if you couldn't verbally express your pleasure to him, your pussy made it well-known.
Dean's right hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as he continued pumping. His left hand trailed up your back until he grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of your neck and pulled. Your head snapped back and you cried out, but you didn't fight him.
"Do you know how badly I've wanted to pull this hair, pretty girl? Fuck--I think about it all the time." His pace was relentless and his hand remained entangled in your hair.
You'd never really noticed him looking at your hair in any particular way, so you assumed once again the pollen was making him say such dirty little things.
After several more thrusts, Dean let go of your hair and pushed down on your upper back, forcing you to press your upper body into the mattress. Dean gripped your hips with both of his hands and slammed into you with an intensity that was unmatched by any of his previous actions.
You had a feeling he was close to another orgasm, at least if his grunts and curses were anything to go by. You clenched down around him again, intent on pushing him past the brink.
It worked like a charm. Dean came with a cry of your name, thrusts continuing as he emptied inside of you once again.
You were exhausted and you hadn't had a single orgasm. Part of you really hoped Dean had gotten it all out of his system, but another part of you didn't want this to end. Even if it wasn't real--even if he didn't actually want to be having sex with you, you liked pretending, if only for a little while.
Dean pulled out of you slowly and rolled you over with a surprising gentleness. You assumed that meant he was satiated and the pollen was out of his system.
When you met his eyes, you were surprised by how brilliantly green they were. You'd almost gotten used to the dark forest color that had taken over as a result of the pollen. He was looking at you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place, but for some reason it made you want to scurry away and hide.
"Better?" you whispered.
He cocked his head to the side and a small smirk played on his lips. "Not even close," he murmured.
His lips met yours in a fiery kiss before you had time to respond. Unlike the previous kisses, this one was more passionate, more intense. It made your body tingle all over and a warmth spread through your veins.
Dean's brain fog had finally cleared enough that he could actually slow down and focus on what was happening--on what he was doing, or rather who. He hated that he'd cum twice without even thinking about you, let alone making you orgasm. Dean prided himself on being an excellent lover and he wasn't about to let you leave this bed unsatisfied.
His cock brushed against your pussy as he shifted to hold you closer. You both inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation. Dean's lips began to travel down your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake. He nipped at your pulse point, earning an excited moan from you. He liked hearing that sound, so he sucked on that spot until you were panting heavily beneath him.
His hands traveled over your soft curves, touching and squeezing all the parts of your body you were self-conscious about. Dean didn't seem to give a damn that your stomach wasn't flat, that your hips weren't narrow and your thighs weren't skinny--in fact, he seemed to be reveling in the feeling of softness.
His lips were so gentle as he continued his downward movements. He kissed and licked and sucked on each of your breasts, spending several minutes focusing on each one. "You have such perfect breasts," he murmured.
You were too surprised, and perhaps too lost in pleasure, to formulate any kind of response to his words. Luckily, he didn't seem to need one, and he refocused his attention on you.
Once he was satisfied your breasts had received enough love, he continued moving down your stomach, stopping to place soft kisses to every mark and scar he saw.
When he reached your sweet pussy, he spread your legs as wide as he could and settled down between them. You were surprised at his actions, especially since you knew he was still hard--that he still needed another release.
Dean was now singularly focused on one thing--and that was you. Now that his damn brain was working properly, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this--even if it was a one time thing because you didn't want him to die, he wasn't about to walk away from this without making you scream his name at least once.
He breathed in deeply, smelling your arousal mixed with his own spend, and he smirked. His eyes flicked up to yours and his mouth latched onto your clit, unleashing an overwhelming assault on your swollen mound.
You gasped as the sudden pleasure washed over you. You couldn't take your eyes off the man between your legs--nor did he take his eyes off you. Every time your hips bucked or you tried to move, his strong arms held you in place so he could continue to watch you.
You were writhing against the sheets in what felt like seconds--it was probably longer, but either way you felt embarrassed at how quickly you fell apart under his touch. Your orgasm tore through you like a hurricane, broken moans dripping from your lips.
To your shock, and perhaps concern, Dean didn't stop his assault on your pussy. Even as you tried to squirm away, he held you in place, desperate to give you another orgasm. You whimpered that it was too much, begged him to give you a break, but all of those words quickly morphed into pleas to keep going--don't stop.
"Dean," you gasped as your fingers slipped into his hair, grabbing hold of the short locks by the roots. Your nails scrapped lightly against his scalp and he let out a soft groan.
His tongue seemed to dance across your clit, creating beautiful designs and languages only he seemed to know. He paid attention to what motions made you quiver, which ones made you moan, and which ones had you tugging on his hair with an iron grip.
"Dean, please--I--so close," you moaned.
He smiled, enjoying the immense pleasure he was giving you just as much as you seemed to enjoy it. A few moments later, you were once again coming apart against his mouth and he eagerly lapped up everything you had to give him.
This time as you tugged on his hair and squirmed away, he obliged, lifting himself up from between your thighs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your blissed out face.
"You taste like heaven, baby," he murmured. "Wanna taste?"
Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes widened and you nodded hesitantly. He smiled wolfishly as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly, allowing you to taste yourself.
You moaned into the kiss and he held you even more tightly, lips sealed to yours like he needed your air to breathe.
He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to control his urges long enough to coax two orgasms from you, but he could feel that control waning. "I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips. "I need you so badly."
You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You lifted your hips to brush against his cock and he groaned at the contact. You nipped at his jaw and pulled him back down to you. "Fuck me, Dean. Please."
He groaned. "Yes ma'am."
He didn't hesitate as he gripped his cock firmly and lined it up with your entrance. He slipped inside easily, having plenty of lubrication to assist him. Despite having been inside of you multiple times at this point, he was still taken aback by how fucking incredible you felt.
"God, I love this pussy," he murmured. "She was made for me."
You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of him inside you once again. As he started to move, he was much more gentle and you found yourself enjoying the sensations--perhaps more than you should.
"You're so good for me, (Y/N)," Dean mumbled, already lost in the feeling of you.
You would have given anything to hear him say that, but the words broke your heart a little. Had he had any other choice, he likely wouldn't be here right now--you wouldn't be the one he was fucking.
"Hey," he whispered, a rough, calloused hand running along your cheek as he looked at you. "Where's that pretty little head at?"
You smiled at him. "Right here, Dean."
Somewhere inside of him, he knew you were lying, but the damn pollen was still affecting his senses. He accepted your response and went back to his actions, focusing on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock like a vise.
He wanted to feel you cum one more time...wanted to feel the way you'd squeeze his cock as you came. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him, lost in pleasure he gave you.
He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your hips, sliding the pillow under them. This provided him a new, improved angle, allowing him to cage you beneath him and hit that sweet spot inside you.
"Dean!" you gasped as the first thrust hit your g-spot.
He grinned and picked up his pace, slamming into it repeatedly. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge of an orgasm you knew would ruin you. Dean Winchester already made you feel things no other man ever had and his ability in bed was no exception. Damn him.
His thrusts were firm and measured, each one sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body. The familiar tightening in your gut was so intense you thought you might actually explode.
Dean's strong arms were on either side of your head and he was looking down at you with that same strange expression from earlier. "You're so damn beautiful, baby. I wanna watch this pretty face as you cum for me."
You gasped, unprepared for the way his words made you feel. You felt emboldened, so you asked for what you needed. "I need more, Dean."
His hand slipped between your bodies, a single finger gently massaging your clit as he continued to fuck you. "That better, baby?"
You nodded rapidly, earning a soft chuckle from his sweet lips.
"You gonna cum for me beautiful?"
You nodded again.
"Yeah? I want you to keep those pretty eyes open when you cum, okay? Wanna see you fall apart."
"Dean..." you whispered.
"I know, sweet girl. I've got you."
Your brain seemed to short-circuit in that moment. All you could feel was a blinding hot pressure immediately followed by an intense euphoria. You heard someone scream "Dean!" and you belatedly realized it had been your voice.
The intensity of your orgasm sent Dean spiraling over the edge of his own. He hadn't even been prepared for it--the mixture of you screaming his name and the sensations of you squeezing him so tightly and the gorgeous way your face contorted as you came was all he needed.
He emptied into you a third and final time, his cock finally beginning to soften as he helped you ride out your high.
He pulled out and flopped down beside you on the bed, his body aching from what had to be some of the best sex of his life--sex pollen or not.
You were just as sore as Dean--probably more so given you literally couldn't move. The two of you laid there in silence, slowly coming down from the electrical highs you'd experienced, both trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours.
Dean was the first to recover. "Did I hurt you?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.
You turned your head to look at him and your heart clenched at the expression on his face. He was genuinely worried, brows furrowed in concern. You contemplated lying to him, but you knew he'd see right through you.
"A little," you said honestly.
He winced and his beautiful eyes closed. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)--I would never hurt you on purpose--ever."
You offered him a small smile he couldn't see, until your hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes again. "I know."
There were a thousand other things you wanted to say--a thousand words you wanted to string together into just the right sentences, but you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself through it.
"Shower?" he asked softly.
"I honestly don't think I can stand."
A smirk played on his lips. "That should not make me feel so damn good."
You laughed lightly, glad to hear the teasing tone in his voice that you loved so much.
He managed to pull himself into a sitting position. "It's not ideal, but there is a bathtub..." he trailed off.
"I wouldn't mind a bath," you admitted.
He nodded and got to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but managed to make his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running as he filled up the tub.
You laid there thinking about everything that had just happened. This was a position you'd never imagined you'd be in--with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.
You knew this wasn't something you were going to be able to forget about, but you hoped things would go back to normal between the two of you and eventually this would just be a funny story.
Suddenly, Sam's words from earlier snapped into your mind. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."
One and done...one and done. This most definitely had not been a 'one and done' scenario. But didn't that mean...? No. No way. Impossible. Dean Winchester does NOT have feelings for you.
You began to rationalize your thought process. Maybe "care about" included a friendly relationship. Yeah...yeah that made the most sense. Of course Dean cares about you. You're his best friend. There couldn't possibly be anything more to it...right?
As if on cue, Dean stepped back into the room. "Bath's ready."
"Okay." You tried to pull yourself up, but you immediately fell back against the mattress, body too worn out to sustain any kind of movement.
Dean chuckled lightly and came up to the side of the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under your hips and slipped his arms under your body, hoisting you up bridal style.
"Jesus!" you yelled. "Put me down! I'm too heavy--you'll throw out your back."
Dean laughed. "Calm down, (Y/N). I just threw you around this bed repeatedly with zero issues. I promise I can carry you to the bathroom without dying."
"But--"
He glared at you and tightened his grip on you as if to prove his point. "Ain't a damn thing wrong with your body, so shut it."
Your mouth closed immediately. His words sent a jolt directly to your core and you were almost annoyed by it. As if three orgasms wasn't enough...
Dean very gently set you on your feet in the bathroom and slowly helped you into the tub. As soon as he got you into a seated position, he got into the tub as well, slipping in behind you.
"Umm...whatcha doing?"
"Taking a bath."
"Isn't the tub a bit small for both of us?"
You could feel him shrug behind you. "I think it's perfect size. Now come here." He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you back so you were laying against his chest. "That's better," he muttered.
Your mind began to race once again as you laid there, body tense and uncomfortable.
"Okay, (Y/N), I know you better than anyone, so don't you dare lie to me. Where's your head at?"
"I--" you sighed. "I'm not really sure how to feel."
He nodded. "I know you didn't want this--I feel like I had to literally force myself onto you and I hate that. I know you only agreed so I wouldn't die, but--"
"Woah--stop." You sat up and turned your head to face him. "That's not true at all. You didn't force me to do anything."
"Okay, maybe 'force' is the wrong word...but you did have sex with me to save my life. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"
"I'm painfully aware," you muttered.
He ran his hand over his face. "I'm not saying any of this right."
"Then what are you trying to say?"
He bit his lip. "Remember what Sammy said? About...how long the effects would last?"
You nodded.
"Well in case you didn't notice, I had three orgasms."
"Both me and my very sore vagina noticed," you said lightly.
He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, (Y/N)?"
You turned a little more so you could see his face better. He had that same look he'd had when he was making you feel incredible. "I need to hear you say it..." you whispered.
He nodded and leaned forward so his face was mere inches from yours. "He didn't mean 'care' as in 'we're friends, so I care about you'...he meant 'care' as in 'love'."
Your lips parted and you inhaled sharply.
"So you see, I don't just care about you as a friend...and I don't just love you as a friend...I'm in love with you."
"You--you love me?"
"In love," he repeated. "For as long as I can remember."
"You're in love--with me?"
He chuckled softly. "Who else would I be talking to, baby? Yes, I'm in love with you."
"I--I don't know--" you stuttered.
"The only thing you need to know is how you feel. Do you know how you feel about me, (Y/N)?" he whispered.
You nodded slowly.
"And?"
"I'm in love with you too."
He grinned widely. "Yeah?"
You nodded, cheeks turning red.
He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. He looked down at you with that expression he'd been wearing and you suddenly realized what it was...it was love--real, true, beautiful, heart aching love.
He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to your lips, which you returned in kind. He held you tightly, loving the feeling of your body in his arms.
"We better get cleaned up before this water gets cold," he said softly, lips pressing to your hair.
"Mhmm," you hummed.
He chuckled. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, babe."
"But I'm comfortable," you whined.
He smiled against your cheek. "Give me five minutes to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?"
You looked over at him and smiled. "Deal."
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#supernatural#dean winchester x reader smut#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x plus size!reader#dean winchester x plus size!reader smut#dean winchester smut#supernatural fanfic#supernatural smut
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Too Many Beds
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
summary: you want nothing more than an excuse to sleep next to dean again
pairing: (pre-s1/s1) dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 2.1k
warnings: none really, language, bed sharing, kissing, mutual pining, idiots in love, brief mention of the death of reader’s dad
timeline: starts slightly before season one, ends near the beginning of season one
author’s note: a spin on the classic 'just one bed, what ever shall we do?' trope lol
You’d known Dean all your life, practically. You met him when you were six and he was eight; two lonely little kids stuck with absent (job-driven) fathers and baby brothers you felt responsible for. Over the course of the last eighteen-or-so years you ran into the Winchesters during hunts enough that you considered them family.
When Sam left for college you were there for Dean and when you lost your dad in a hunting accident Dean was there for you. He actually stayed with you, not wanting you to hunt alone since your brother was off at college too.
So, for the last six months you’d been hunting with Dean (who hadn’t spoken to Sam for over a year).
“One room, two queens,” Dean said to the woman behind the counter, placing “his” credit card on the space between them before sliding it toward her.
“We’re all booked up I’m afraid,” she said.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I was actually about to turn on the no vacancy sign.”
“This is the third motel we’ve been to,” you said, “every one of them has been full—you’ve gotta have something!”
“I mean, there’s technically one room left but the heater’s out and my boss said not to let anyone sleep there because of that.”
There was a silent pause; you and Dean shared a knowing look.
“We’ll pay in cash, your boss ‘ll never know,” you told the woman. She smiled and nodded as you paid her with cash.
“Room 209, my boss gets here at ten tomorrow morning so please leave before then.” She handed you the key and you nodded in thanks.
You had underestimated just how cold the room could be, but when you unlocked and opened the door you understood why the owner didn’t want anyone staying here.
“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled, following you into the room and feeling the cold air. “We’re gonna freeze our asses off in here!” he quickly closed the door behind him, hoping the icy air hadn’t swept any snow into the room.
“It’s either this or we sleep in the Impala,” you shrugged, “and, no offense to your car, but it’s fuckin’ uncomfortable to sleep in.”
“And there’s only one bed,” Dean sighed.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you told him, ignoring his complaints.
**
“Are you shivering or crying?” Dean asked.
You rolled over so you could meet his stare; “Shivering! It’s fuckin’ cold in here!”
“You wanna…cuddle up, maybe?” he asked hesitantly.
“Excuse me?” you laughed a little.
“Look, I’m not thrilled about it either, but it’s cold in here and unless we both wanna catch fucking pneumonia we better be smart and share body heat.”
You sighed, weighing your options; “Fine. But we never, and I mean never speak of this again, you hear me?”
“Understood.” He nodded.
You rolled back over as he scooted closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.
“This okay?” he asked quietly, his lips ghosting the back of your head.
“Yeah,” you mumbled back. “Thank you, Dean.”
**
You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring loudly. You were used to his snores, sure, but he’d never been this close. He was laying on his stomach and resting on your chest; his mouth open and his hair tickling your neck. Your first reaction was annoyance but then it quickly washed away as you realized you didn’t want to move a muscle, so Dean could continue sleeping.
And the more you laid there, listening to his snores, the more you realized how comfortable you were…even in such a physically uncomfortable situation.
As the time passed and the sun began to rise, you cursed the light that was slowly but surely peeking through the curtain and onto Dean’s face.
“Morning,” he mumbled to you as he lifted his head up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his right hand before wiping his mouth. “Sorry,” he chuckled, noticing the small spot on your gray sweater dampened with his drool.
“It’s okay,” you mumbled back. “I think it’s your sweater anyway.”
“I thought it looked familiar.”
He rolled off of you and out of bed.
You watched as he padded across the dirty carpet and over to the small kitchen. He turned on the coffee maker and the loud, off putting grinding noise made his face scrunch before he quickly shut off the (definitely broken) machine.
“So much for coffee,” he grumbled. “You gonna sit there all morning or you wanna get outta here? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”
“I’m getting up,” you replied. You would usually be annoyed at him for rushing you to wake up, but this time the annoyance was…different. Something about his bedhead, the way his lips were pouting over the lack of caffeine, and how he looked in his brown Henley and baggy sweats just made you wanna hold him again. All you wanted was to pull him back into bed with you and hold him in your arms forever.
**
You were beyond frustrated at this point. How many stupid fucking hotels had to have vacant rooms with two beds and a functional heating system!?
It had been nearly six months since you and Dean shared a bed and you had been looking for an excuse to sleep next to him ever since.
But the last couple weeks had been different—Sammy was back. Yes, you loved Sam like a brother, but you missed getting to be alone with Dean. You missed sitting shotgun in the Impala and watching him drive.
Sam definitely noticed the way you looked at Dean, but the younger Winchester didn’t say a word. Without being too obvious about it, he tried to do little things that would let you be close to his brother. He’d sit in a certain chair or part of the couch so that you and Dean had no choice but to sit together. Or he’d make some lame excuse so that he got his own room while you and Dean had to share. “I need to do some more research and I need the light, why don’t you two just sleep in the other room?” for example.
**
“Two rooms, please,” Dean said, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet.
“Unfortunately we’ve only got one room left,” the cashier replied.
You almost couldn’t believe your ears, fucking finally!
“Oh, that’s too bad,” you faked your best frustrated look, of course Sam saw right through that.
“Well, I am not sharing with either or you,” he said with a teasing smile.
“There’s actually a pullout couch in that room, as luck would have it,” the cashier informed the three of you.
God fucking damn it, you thought to yourself.
**
It was barely after two when you felt the bed behind you dip, and you shook yourself awake.
“The hell?” you asked, still half asleep.
“The pullout couch isn’t working,” Dean mumbled quietly. “You mind sharing with me?”
You smiled a little and scooted closer into his arms, indicating you were okay with him sleeping next to you.
“Of course I don’t mind sharing with you,” you whispered and his grip tightened.
**
“I’m gonna go get breakfast,” Sam announced. “I’m assuming you want your usual?”
Dean put his right pointer finger to his lips and furrowed his brows angrily. He gestured to you as you slept and Sam got the message.
“Usual is good,” Dean whispered before Sam left.
Dean stayed laying perfectly still as you slept on his chest, soft snores escaping your lips and to Dean they were the sweetest sound.
As you stirred awake slowly, he rubbed your back a little.
“Morning,” you mumbled, a small smile on your lips. “Where’s Sam?”
“He went to grab breakfast,” Dean told you.
You furrowed your brows as you sat up, looked across the room, and realized something; “The pullout bed looks fine? I thought you said it wasn’t working?” You turned back to Dean, who had a sheepish grin growing on his lips.
“So…maybe I’ve just been looking for an excuse to sleep next to you again. Like we did back in that motel when the heat was out.”
“Really?” You attempted to hide the smile trying to find its way onto your face.
“When we were checking in last night I noticed how your face lit up when they said there was only one room left,” Dean admitted. “And I saw that disappointed look you made when they said there was a pullout couch. So, am I wrong, or have you been wanting an excuse too?”
“I really liked sleeping next to you that night,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “And you’re right, I have been hoping for another ‘oh no just one bed, guess we’ll have to share’ situation but…”
“But what?” Dean asked when you trailed off. You looked down at him.
“Dean, you and Sam have been like my brothers for as long as I can remember. I mean, Bobby practically raised all three of us and my actual brother as siblings! Your dad and my dad knew each other basically forever and I guess…I guess I figured our lives are too entangled for anything to ever actually happen between us. We’re family.”
“Chosen family, Y/n.” Dean smiled softly. “Doesn’t mean you have to be my chosen sister, you could be my chosen…you know…”
You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his full lips.
“That,” Dean finished his previous statement.
“Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?” you suggested. “If Sam finds out, then your dad will find out, and he’ll immediately tell my brother, then before we know it Bobby—”
“I get the picture, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled before kissing you again. He put his hands on your cheeks as he sat up. He pulled you onto his lap, your legs now straddling his hips. His hands moved to your shoulders then trailed down to your lower back as yours went into his hair. You pulled away from him after a moment, huge smiles on both your faces.
You looked into his eyes, his truly beautiful eyes, and you bit your bottom lip ever so slightly. Your right hand rested on his left cheek, your thumb stroking his skin lovingly.
“You’re awesome, Dean Winchester,” you whispered.
“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he replied before he kissed you again. “And gorgeous, too,” he added. “You know how fuckin’ annoying it’s been, sleeping without you every night since that one time?”
“I do know, Dean, I’ve been just as annoyed about it.”
Dean kissed you one more time before he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, tucking his head into your neck. You wrapped your arms around him too, pressing your lips to his temple.
You pulled out of the hug so you could once again look at his face. Resting your forehead on his, you smiled before you kissed him again.
“Breakfast,” Sam called out as he opened the door, “is served!”
You and Dean froze for a split second before you hurried off of him.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, “did I interrupt you two?”
“What?” you scoffed. “Of course not!”
“Interrupt? There’s nothing to interrupt?” Dean added.
“Oh…wow you two are fast,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen before putting the food down. “Well, pancakes, eggs, and bacon from the continental breakfast.” He gestured to the food now on the table. “Hope you’re hungry.”
As Sam sat down to eat, you looked at Dean anxiously. Say something you begged him with your eyes.
“Sammy,” Dean started as he got out of bed, “would you mind uh…not telling dad? About me and Y/n…kissing just now? When we find him, I mean.”
“Dad’s never really been invested in your love life, but he’s not an idiot,” Sam laughed.
“So…you are gonna tell him?” Dean furrowed his brows in frustration.
“Dean, he knows you two are together, it’s not some big secret?” Sam replied, shoveling more food into his mouth. “Damn that’s good.”
“Okay, just hold on—what?” Dean asked. “What do you mean dad knows? There’s been nothing to know since like four minutes ago?”
“Wait,” Sam stopped eating and fully turned to face you and his brother, “are you trying to tell me this is the first time you two have kissed?” Sam furrowed his brows deeply as you and Dean both nodded. “So…never in high school?” You shook your heads again. “That prom we crashed?”
“Sam you were there the whole time? When would we have kissed?” you asked.
“Huh,” Sam let out a laugh. “I genuinely thought you two had been a thing since like… ‘98.”
“What!?” you and Dean exclaimed in unison.
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester comfort#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester#sam winchester#supernatural#spn#supernatural fic#supernatural fluff#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#dean x reader#by mind empty just fictional people#by jean
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The Ranger (Part 1)
Summary: The reader is trying to enjoy her vacation in the rainy forest in her cozy cabin when an unexpected heat comes on. But things turn dangerous fast and she needs the help of a local forest ranger to get out of it. But she wasn't expecting his help to include claiming her and being her true mate. Because something isn't right and her Alpha is keeping something from her...
Masterlist
Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader
Word Count: 5,300ish
Warnings: language, life threatening medical situation, angst
A/N: Please enjoy this first part!
_______
This was not an ideal situation. You’d finally done it and taken that solo vacation in the mountains. A cozy cabin in a retreat from the world. The trees had turned already and were bare but the damp, cloudy rainy day would have been perfect to curl up by the wood fireplace and get through that stack of books you’d been meaning to.
Except your heat, your heat that’d always been on schedule since you’d started having them, was three fucking weeks early. You didn’t have any medicine besides a few pain killers meant for headaches, not dangerous cramps, and the cabin only had basics meant for allergies or a cold. You needed heat suppressants soon if you didn’t want to go into a full heat.
Which again, wasn’t an ideal situation since you didn’t have a flippin’ mate.
You could have tried to trek back to civilization through the winding dirt road but it’d taken two hours on the way in. Two hours of intense cramps? No way were you making that drive.
“Shit,” you said, walking slowly to the service room on the lower floor of the cabin where a radio at a table sat. Because of course you wanted to vacation somewhere without people, that meant no cell service either.
A rumble of cramps passed through you, warmth flaring your insides. You gritted your teeth and grabbed the radio, turning the frequency to the ranger station listed on the sheet on the table for emergencies.
“Hello, uh, forest service? I need help,” you said, closing your eyes as pain radiated up your spine. You frowned for a moment, the radio crackling. “Hello? I-”
“This is station 327, Ranger Winchester. What’s the emergency?” asked a strong, serious voice. You bit your bottom lip as you imagined he was an Alpha, your core quivering at the idea of getting a knot. “Mam? Please respond.”
“M-My heat’s early. It’s real bad and I have no medication. I-I’m in the Vrbo cabin off route 37, Mount Dusk I think it was called. I-”
“This line is for true emergencies. Your heat being a few days early and you being an unprepared Omega is not-”
“Listen asshole,” you snarled, gasping when your stomach threatened to curl in on itself. “It’s three fucking weeks early which everyone knows isn’t normal. I need a fucking heat kit, a strong one, or a fucking knot now and since I’m out here alone, all I got is your ass. So get me my shit and-FUCK!”
You dropped the radio as you bent over, falling to your knees. Something was wrong. Heat’s didn’t come on this fast, not even when you scented your true mate.
You could hear noise through the radio but your head was thrumming, your body grateful for the cold wood floor below you. It wasn’t possible to die from a heat, was it? If you let the fever go you supposed but it took days and days for that to happen and you’d only felt crappy for an hour. Yeah, you’d be just fine. This guy would bring you medicine and you’d be fine.
Right?
You blinked open your eyes when you heard glass break. Crap, you’d passed out for who knew how long. The overwhelming scent of Alpha hit you and despite the pain, you shot upright, staring at the man in the wet raincoat as he reached his hand through the broken pane and undid the lock. He froze when he saw you, his own scent shifting subtly. A hint of fear under the surface.
“Jesus,” he mumbled, raking his eyes over your sweat drenched body. He took off his backpack, pulling out a white box and a bottle of water, cautiously setting them on the ground and sliding them over to you.
“I look that bad, huh?” you said, ripping open the box and finding the medicine you needed, knocking it back with a swig of water.
“You’re in heat and I don’t want to be accused of doing shit I didn’t,” he said. You narrowed your eyes, hand fisting in your own shirt over your stomach. That shouldn’t have been happening still. Heat medication worked instantly. “What’s-”
You fell over again, clutching your abdomen, head spinning, body going haywire at his scent.
“Please,” you whispered, finding his hard eyes. “I’ll give you whatever you want. I-I need you to-”
“I can’t.” A wracked sob slipped past your lips as something in your broke, pain flooding every single cell. You just needed a knot and it would be bearable. He muttered to himself and quickly you were in strong arms, your own wrapping around him shakily. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“I’ll pay you,” you whispered, hating how that sounded but he simply carried you out in the pouring rain, the cold air helping your skin not feel so hot.
“I’m on Novi-Alpha. If I knotted you,, you’d fucking die so I’m sorry but I can’t help you like that even if I wanted to.”
“I’m gonna die from this fucking fever anyways!” you shouted as he opened the backdoor of a rugged looking jeep.
“One’s a chance, one’s a guarantee,” he said, setting you down, your arms still clinging to him. He eyed you, forcibly grabbing your wrists and pulling them away. “You will not die, understand me? Now let me get you to a hospital.”
You reached for him but he moved away too quickly, closing the door. He ducked into the cabin to retrieve his bag before he was behind the wheel.
“Honey Dusk Hospital is aware you’re in a dangerous heat,” he said, turning the jeep around and driving down the dirt road, way faster than you had.
“Don’t kill me in a fucking car accident on the way,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut.
“This vehicle is meant for these roads, unlike your car. We’ll be on route 37 in thirty minutes, at the hospital in forty five.” You threw your head back, his musky scent filling the small space.
“Distract me,” you breathed out. “Fuck you smell so good. If you weren’t on Novi-Alpha, I’d climb you like a fucking tree.”
“Whoa lady. Calm down-”
“Don’t lady me. We’re like the same fucking age.”
“You say fucking a lot, you realize.”
“You have your insides tearing apart and tell me you wouldn’t be cursing-” You shouted, bracing yourself against the door panel, feeling him step on the gas harder. “What the fuck is happening to me?”
“...I have an idea,” he said quietly. You flashed open your eyes, looking at his incredible scruff covered jawline, his gaze focused on the bumpy, wet road ahead.
“What? Are you a doctor? Are-”
“No. I only know my basic medical training.” He frowned, rounding a tight corner. “It’s probably not a heat and you’re just sick.”
“I know what a heat feels like thank you very much.” You shivered violently, the ranger sighing. “What’s your name?”
“Dean Winchester. Try to rest. We’ll be there soon.”
The ranger’s suggestion to rest had, shockingly, not worked. By the time you were speeding down this small town’s streets, you were shaking so hard you literally couldn’t stop. Dean had reached back more than once as he drove with a handheld thermometer, muttering a few f-bombs to himself.
At least he wasn’t the one with a hundred and five temperature. A hundred and five and a half to be exact. You were pretty sure your heat was about to boil the fuck out of you and kill you within the next hour.
Dean said something but you didn’t hear him over your screaming. The next thing you knew he was ripping open the door and running inside a hospital with you in his arms, nearly tripping into a stretcher where a team was waiting.
“She’s fucking dying,” he said as he set you down, the team of doctors and nurses rushing you into a side room.
“You said this heat came on suddenly?” he asked Dean, someone sticking a thermometer in your ear.
“106. She’s too hot,” called out the nurse, the doctor near Dean rushing over, the team suddenly pushing you out of the room and down the hall. You were shoved through a pair of double doors into a bathroom, a silver high walled tub in the corner.
“I got her,” said Dean, lifting you up and plunging you into an icy cold bath. You screamed as it burned your fiery skin, his hands on your shoulders forcing you to stay inside. “Look at me. Look at me.”
You couldn’t get the words out, taking in his green emerald eyes for the first time. His scent was still all around you, pine trees and vanilla beans, a cozy campfire and aged whiskey, fresh tobacco and soft linen. Your brain went fuzzy, blood pumping in your ears, thrumming in time with your heart. Was it getting slower? Your eyes were getting heavier, that was for sure.
But he smelled so pretty, so…homey. Rugged. Yours.
“We’re losing her!” someone shouted, just as one last image of his concerned face crossed your mind.
You felt strangely…blissed out when you woke. Satisfied, like you were after being on the receiving end of a knot but also relaxed and floaty, like when you finished a heat. It wasn’t exactly a problem your heat had passed but you remembered a whole lot of pain and a high fever which wasn’t normal.
So what the fuck had happened?
You stretched in bed and sat up, a doctor in a white coat stepping into the room with a smile.
“Y/N! Glad to see you awake. It’s been a few hours. How are you feeling?” he asked, gently taking your wrist and checking your pulse.
“Uh, pretty good actually. I take it my heat’s gone?” He hummed, raising your arm up, feeling under your armpit.
“Yes. There’s not many cases a year but some Omegas do unfortunately have a negative reaction.” The doctor put two fingers to your bonding gland on your neck, your eyes narrowing. Why would he be feeling that?
“What are you doing?” you asked as he pulled them back, glancing at a monitor.
“Just checking your bond is healing.” You stared at him, the doctor glancing down with a sigh. “You don’t remember, do you? What happened before you passed out in the tub?”
“I remember being dumped in ice cold water and a whole lot of people shouting but that’s it.”
“You didn’t pass out immediately. We determined while you were on the way here that your heat was triggered by the fact you came into contact with your true mate. Ordinarily, you would have picked up on this yourselves but your Alpha is on medication that has strong side effects. Namely, he was only vaguely aware of who you were through scent but there was no desire to mate as would be the norm. For you, unfortunately there is no recognition on a level that you’re aware of. You understandably would not know you went into heat early because of your true mate.”
You reached a hand up to your bonding gland, wide eyed when you felt…something. You flew out of bed, the doctor trying to stop you but you were quickly in the small bathroom, staring in the mirror.
“What the fuck is that!” you shouted. On your neck was a fresh, pink, bite mark. Someone had fucking claimed you. You angrily spun around, the doctor holding up his hands. “What kind of hospital is this! I’m suing the fuck out of you and this whole place!”
You caught a whiff of something…delectable, an Alpha’s scent somewhere close by. It calmed you, ever so briefly, the doctor sighing.
“The man that brought you in-”
“The ranger guy.”
“Yes he…well he…there’s no easy way to say this. He is your true mate. Ordinarily we would have used medication to mimic your true mate’s scent but seeing as he was there…when he was told he would be able to claim…” he said as you stalked out, eye twitching. “We were losing you and receiving a claim bite from your true mate was the fastest way to bring your fever down. In emergency situations, true mates are allowed to make medical choice for you if you’re unable-”
“He wasn’t my mate then,” you growled.
“Physically, no but on a metaphysical level, yes. Frankly, the health of my patient, you, is all I care about. We’d like to observe you a few more hours before discharging.” You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes.
“So my heat is magically gone and some random dude hanging out in the hall is now my Alpha?”
“That’s the more blunt way of putting it. We’ll send home medication to suppress your urges to mate physically. Your Alpha will be unable to knot you until he has completed his Novi-Alpha prescription.”
“And when will that be?” you asked, tilting your head. The doctor frowned. “When?”
“...You don’t know what Novi-Alpha is prescribed for, do you. That is a discussion for you and your Alpha.” You wanted to argue but he lifted his chin. “Please let me finish my examination and determine if your heat had any consequences.”
Three hours later they finally let you leave, a white baggie in hand that held a bottle of pills you were to take once a week for the foreseeable future. There were well over a hundred inside which made you more than queasy.
What the fuck was Novi-Alpha and why did a guy that looked more than healthy need to be on it?
You frowned when you stepped outside under the covered front entrance, the ranger standing from where he sat on a bench.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “How are you feeling?”
“I didn’t give you permission to claim me.” His scent shifted, an edge to it you didn’t like. He narrowed his eyes, a frown growing on his otherwise handsome face. “Oh, don’t you start on that we’re true mates shit. You didn’t ask for my consent.”
“Excuse me but you were the one begging for it,” he quipped back. He took a few steps away like he was heading for the sidewalk, suddenly turning on a dime and getting in your face. He breathed heavily, clenching his jaw. “You don’t feel…this and I get that it’s my fault. I barely feel it myself. And I frankly don’t care about your consent. My mate was five minutes away from death.”
“Oh, I did not sign up for some toxic asshole,” you said, shaking your head. You took a step, Dean grabbing your wrist. He looked ready to snarl, lip curling up.
“True mates are never, ever bad mates. Stop hating me for saving you.”
“I don’t even fucking know you. This whole situation is your damn fault in the first place.” He twitched his eye, yanking on your arm so you stepped forward. “Get off, ass-”
“I am your Alpha and I’m taking you home,” he said, tugging you along after him, your feet cold on the wet ground, socks already soaked through.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you growled. Dean whipped around and in a second, you were tossed over his shoulder. “Dean! Put me down!”
“You’ll wear yourself out if you don’t calm down.” You growled, punching his back twice. You raised your fist again but felt dizzy, your hands instead gripping him tightly. “Did you listen to the doctors at all? You need to take it easy.”
“Just take me to my cabin,” you grumbled. He didn’t speak again, only grunted once when he opened the passenger door of his truck to slide you inside. You were too tired to deal with this crap. You’d go back to the cabin, sleep for a solid twelve hours and figure out this mate crap tomorrow.
The roads were unfamiliar as Dean drove in silence, winding and twisting as he drove away from town and off a small road. It was a gravel road unlike the one to your cabin but you perked up when you saw a cabin in a small clearing after only a few minutes.
“Uh, that’s not my cabin,” you said. Dean put the truck in park, turning it off. “I was out on Mount-”
“This is my house…our house,” he mumbled the last part. You shook your head at him, Dean rolling his eyes. “You need rest, not to sit in a car for hours. I’ll get your shit from that rental and bring it here. We’ll figure out the rest of your crap from wherever you’re from later.”
“Excuse me? We’re mates, as much as that appalls me. We make decisions like where to live together. I have a job, a life-”
“We live here. End of discussion,” he growled. His scent was raw, twitchy. There was no room for arguing. You were ready to fight back but you forced yourself to calm down. He was your true mate and as much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. True mates were never bad to one another. He wouldn’t harm you but good god was this guy protective.
You frowned when he held up a finger to you and got out. He threw up his hood, rain coming down harder. In a flash he was at your door, picking you up bridal style and rushing you over to a covered porch. He set you down to unlock the door, flipping a light switch before he stepped back. You walked past him, surprised to find the cabin quite spacious and modern.
He disappeared behind you, returning with your white paper bag, now wet. His boots were removed and you peeled off your soaked through socks, following him slowly as he went to the open kitchen area on the right. The bag was set down, Dean moving to his fridge and taking a few things out.
It was open concept, kitchen on the right, living room on the left, a dining table in the front by the windows. There was a hallway in the back and one off the kitchen, probably leading to bedrooms and a garage. A large fireplace was nestled in the corner of the living room and you saw Dean cross into your vision, going to it to toss in a few logs.
Honestly, it was nicer than your rental had been.
Once he had a fire going, he turned back to where you stood on the front rug, water dripping off of you. His lips pressed into a thin line, looking you up and down not like an Alpha would his Omega. No, he was being very clear.
You were the stray that’d followed him home he hadn’t wanted.
“I don’t have to be here,” you said when he approached, staring up at his dark eyes. “This isn’t normal. We’re supposed to be all over each other and clearly we’re not. We-”
“There’s a stew going on the stove. It’ll be ready in an hour. Just leave it alone.” He put a hand on the small of your back, walking you down to the back hall, motioning you to the last door on the left. He flipped on a light, cascading you into a cozy bedroom with soft white bedding and a dark green flannel blanket on top.
He cleared his throat and went to a closet, pulling out a few pieces including a t shirt, hoodie, sweatpants and pair of boxer briefs.
“You should warm up in the shower. Bathroom is right there. The laundry room is on the other side of the house, near the kitchen and garage. It’s coming down harder so it’ll take me a few hours to get to the rental and back here. You should-”
“Take it easy. Yeah, I got that.” He nodded, pausing at the bedroom door with his back to you.
“If it’s any consolation, I’m sorry this happened to you. You don’t deserve it.” You quirked your eyebrow up.
“You’re my Alpha. We’re soulmates. I guess this is supposed to happen.” He was still, the air thick. “I…listen I know I was…I wish I’d been aware of what I’d been saying but…”
He smelled tense, his hand in a tight fist by his side. What the fuck was up with this guy?
“Whether we like it or not, we’re mates,” you said gently. “When you get off that medicine, it’ll feel different-”
“I can never get off it and I can never knot you. You’ll never feel a damn thing for me.” Then he was gone, tearing down the hall and out the front door before you could even move.
An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine that he was right.
Your feet moved on autopilot to the bathroom, stripping out of the wet clothes and standing in front of the nicely tiled shower. In seconds you were under hot water, cascading down your back, through your hair. Fingers reached up to your neck, rubbing over your bond.
There were no sparks or flurry in your veins. You were supposed to be able to feel Dean, feel your connection, feel his soul.
But there was nothing. All you felt was empty.
You couldn’t feel the other part of your soul and he blamed himself.
“Fuck that,” you said, quickly finishing and getting dressed in the clothes aside from the sweatpants that were too long.
You found his computer in one of the spare bedrooms, stealing it along with a notepad and pen. Out in the kitchen, you settled into a seat at the island and drew a line down the middle of the pad. One side for information about Dean, the other Novi-Alpha.
With a quick stretch, you cracked open the laptop and got to work.
Three Hours Later
It was dark by the time headlights flashed through the front windows. The computer said it was just after six thirty and you knew you were about thirty seconds away from an argument. Ah, what a wonderful way to spend your first night with your Alpha.
Out of view you heard the door leading from the garage to the house crack open, wet boots against the tile in the mudroom.
“I’m back!” he called from around the corner. “We’ll unpack your stuff tomorrow. How was…”
Your eyes darted over to the hallway he exited from, his socked feet padding his footfalls on the woode floors that covered the rest of the house. He stared at where you had his laptop, a charger plugged into the side of the island, a stack of papers next to you, your notepad, pen, three different highlighters and a cup of coffee.
“Are…are you working?” He asked, face souring. “You should be resting. I thought you were here on vacation anyways.”
“I am and this isn’t work related.” He narrowed his eyes, not saying anything as he went to the sink on the other side of the island to wash up.
“Did you eat yet?” You shook your head, typing some more. A heavy sigh left him. He went to a cabinet, pulling out two large bowls. “You really should have eaten something. You nearly died this morning. Your school project can wait.”
“I’m not in college,” you said, jotting down a few more notes before you saved what you’d been working on and signed out of your account. You closed the screen, watching water trail down from his wet hair and soaking his shirt collar. “Why are you wet?”
“Because there’s a thunderstorm outside. It rains here most days,” he said dryly, giving you a side glare as he walked the two bowls of stew over to the kitchen table. You cocked your head at him as you got up, Dean quickly retrieving utensils. “What?”
“You parked in the garage just now and my cabin was far enough away that you’d be dry. Where’d you stop on the way back?” He slammed the drawer shut, eye twitching. “Strike a nerve?”
“I asked you to do one thing. One thing. Rest. And y-you’re writing a research paper or some crap? Sit down and eat your damn dinner.” You would have told him off but truth be told, you were starving a bit. You took your bowl and moved it to the seat across from his, Dean angrily setting down a spoon. A few moments later, a large glass of water was in front of you and he had a bottle of beer on his placemat. Dean sat with a loud thud, shoveling a large spoonful of food into his mouth.
“Why are you wet?” you asked again, crossing your arms.
“Why does it matter? Fucking eat.” You leaned back, Dean dropping his spoon in the bowl. “Really? This is how it’s gonna be? I’ve been nothing but nice-”
“If this is you nice then I’d hate to see you mean.” You raised your chin, picking up the spoon. “I’ve always heard alpha’s protective instincts are unmatched. You can barely feel whatever this bond is and you’re so worked up-”
“I almost watched you die today.” You closed your eyes and sighed. A small noise made you open your eyes, Dean sliding a small white box over to you. You frowned, lips parting when you saw the newest iPhone inside. “I got you a phone on the account your other one was in your pocket when you took your artic dip. I rushed to the store before they closed. That is why I’m wet. I’d never want you to feel like you’re trapped here, especially when you can’t feel our ‘whatever bond.’”
“Thank you,” you said quietly. You ate in silence, the only sounds coming from the rain on the roof, the clanking of spoons and the quiet thrum of a soft rock station in the living room.
He seemed…stressed. Maybe you should wait for the morning to bring up what you’d found.
But you didn’t get the chance when he picked up and glanced at your notepad. Green eyes scanned over the pages before he gathered up everything you’d been working on.
And tossed it straight into the fireplace.
“Hey!” you shouted, rushing over as he stopped you in your tracks. He leered down, eyes dark. “That was-”
“You will delete everything you saved on that computer. Now.”
“You can’t-” He gripped your arm tight, so hard he was shaking it.
“Do it or I will make your life hell.” He released you, spinning you around towards the computer. You didn’t believe he’d hurt you. True mates were incapable of it. But you didn’t want to tempt him anymore than you already had.
Ten minutes later, your backup was gone and after a through examination by Dean, he took the computer and tossed it into the fireplace as well.
“I know you have questions,” he said quietly, back to you as the flames danced around the melting device. “I never should have gone hiking this morning. You caught my scent in the wind and-”
“Why would you go hiking in the pouring rain? It was raining this morning too. I had my coffee under the covered porch but it was coming down like bullets. No one would be out there willingly.” He turned and faced you, eyes roaming over your body, stuck on how his boxer briefs molded to your legs.
“In another life, we could have been happy. I would have given you everything you asked for. But not this one. I will keep you safe but that is all we are. We don’t get our happy ever after until we’re both dead.”
You swallowed, stepping into the living room, stopping a few feet away. “You hurt my arm just now.”
“I know,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again as long as you don’t do stupid things.”
You were getting angry again, Dean holding up his hands. “Stupid shit like try to know my new Alpha who just left me all alone? Sorry for trying to look up your damn social media. Asshole.”
Dean dropped his hands and went back to the fireplace, poking the computer with a poker, shaking his head.
“The more in the dark you are-”
“I’m a corporate forensic analyst, Dean,” you said, Dean’s shoulders stiffening. “Those notes on the computer? In that pad? Those articles? You can burn them all but it’s in my head. I don’t need the internet anymore to figure out what’s going on.”
“And what does your analysis tell you?” he grit out.
“Novi-Alpha is a cancer medication specifically for Alphas. But you don’t have it and never have. So why would an otherwise healthy Alpha take it? Well, it apparently has other uses that the public doesn’t know about…if you’re willing to live with the side effects. Side effects like knotting becoming a deadly activity to the person on the receiving end. The inability to feel your mate. Scent changes. And my personal favorite, if taken without the binding agent that’s given for cancer treatment, it changes your DNA coding without changing your DNA. Apparently law enforcement doesn’t want that news to get out there because it’s a bitch to catch people if they find out they can change their DNA on tests.”
You grabbed his arm and made him face you, a loud crack of thunder echoing in the room. Dean breathed calmly, eyes finding yours.
“Why are you taking medicine to change your DNA?”
“Because I did something bad, Y/N.” He got closer, pressing his chest to yours, forcing you to tilt your head. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Fingers brushed over your cheek, thumb swiping over the curve of it slowly. “Because your true mate is a monster. And once you know the truth, you’ll want to run away…and I don’t think I’m strong enough to let you go.”
The air was thick with his scent, dark yet pleasant. Painful even. You leaned into his touch, Dean’s green eyes widening ever so slightly.
“Novi-Alpha prevents Omegas from feeling their true mate. But I know you feel me.” You closed your eyes, breathing him in. “You have to tell me the truth eventually.”
“No I don’t,” he whispered.
“You’ll tell me,” you said, opening your eyes, Dean’s hand sliding down to your mark. “Because I’m in danger if you don’t.”
He shook his head, pulling away from you. “Don’t pull that crap, Y/N. You’re safer not knowing.”
“Right. That’s why you burned everything just now.” He looked up, like someone else would magically tell him what to do. “You need to protect me. It’s your job. So you have to tell me the truth, Alpha. You have to.”
He laughed quietly, running a hand through his damp hair. “Using my title to get what you want. Manipulative. Maybe you were meant for me.”
“Dean-”
“The Ranger.” You raised your eyebrows at him, Dean wandering to the dark window.
“Uh, what? This is because you’re a forest ranger?” He laughed again, crossing his arms.
“No. I do that because…it’s a pretty isolated job. Small town work.” He looked to his right, a sad smile on his face. “The Ranger. That was my name when I had a different job.”
“That’s not a name…” you said, Dean shrugging. “What’d you do when you were The Ranger?”
He smirked, meeting your curious gaze. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
He slowly stalked back to you, tilting his head. He leaned in close, glancing at your lips. “N-No, can’t say I have.”
“Ever kill an animal?”
“I hit a squirrel with my car once. I cried all night for that.” Dean rested his forehead against yours, his scent rolling off of him in powerful waves. “D-Do you hunt animals?”
“No.” He brushed his lips to the shell of your ear, his pulse strangely calm. “Now people, that’s a different story.”
_______
A/N: Read Part 2 here!
#dean x reader#spn#supernatural#dean winchester x reader#dean x#dean x you#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfic#dean winchester fanfic#abo#alpha!Dean x omega!reader
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In Another Life
Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Dean POV
Summary: When Dean wakes up in another life with you, he begins to question your friendship and realizes that he has loved you all along. But how can he change that? (I’m so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Pregnancy Fluff, Mutual Pining
Word Count: 5.5K (I have an addiction don't judge me)
Warnings: I don’t think there’s any. I’ll say mention of gore, but for one second. Maybe one allusion to sex, but not really. Some swearing (once or twice). Dean might be a little bit OOC.
Note: This is told from Dean’s perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. This is my first time writing for Supernatural, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics
Main Masterlist
*********************************************
Dean couldn’t remember what happened last night only that the bed beneath him felt like an old friend welcoming him home. The night before ghosted across his mind, hovering just out of reach, memories of a dream barely forming from a fog of uncertainty. He fades in and out of sleep in a mist that soothes his aching body.
“Dean?” A soft voice whispers.
Dean groans and squeezes his pillow tighter against his chest to avoid waking up. He didn’t care what time it was, all he knew was that he didn’t want to get out of bed.
“Leave me alone Sammy.” He grumbles into the pillow.
“Dean.” The voice says again, this time with a happy laugh that sounds nothing like Sam.
His eyes open, blinded by the sunlight that streams through the large windows on the other side of the bedroom.
Wait. Where am I?
“Dean we have to get up or we’ll be late for the party.”
Dean looks towards the voice and realizes that he’s not squeezing a pillow, it’s you. You’re facing him, hair fanning out over the pillow beneath your head, eyes wide and crinkled around the edges, smiling at him.
“Y/n?” Dean says it hesitantly, arms tightening around your waist.
“No no no. Don’t look at me like that. I will not be roped into staying in bed. We can’t be late for your mom’s birthday party and you promised you would come with me to pick up the cake.”
“But-“ Dean couldn’t remember how he got here, only that something feels wrong.
“No buts.” You giggle, before leaning forward and kissing him.
Dean freezes, confused, but the soft movement of your mouth against his erases any uncertainty. He eases his face forward nudging his nose into yours to deepen the kiss. Dean doesn’t know how he got here, but all he knows is how natural it feels to be here with you. Before he can stop himself he rolls you over your back, bringing a moan from you that vibrates though his skull. His fingertips blaze a trail along your hips.
“Easy there tiger.” You smile up at him. “You don’t want to crush Zeppelin.”
Dean’s confusion makes you laugh, before he finally looks down between you. “You’re pregnant.” He whispers, noting the protrusion of your abdomen.
“I mean I think so.” You laugh in a way that makes his heart jump and buckle.
Dean lays his hand down on the smooth skin where your shirt pushes up. Why can’t I remember this? He thinks to himself confused, searching for memories he can’t recall.
“I believe we’ve talked about it several times. And it was you who decided to stay up until 4 am painting the nursery.” Your hands gently brush his hair back out of his face. “You did such a good job baby.”
Dean reaches for the memory, but he can’t seem to
grasp it. “I did?”
“Mhmm. Look at you, you’re still covered in paint.” You smile wider picking up the hand that rests on your belly to show him the splashes of cream colored paint flecked along the back of his hand. And as you do he notices the ring on your left hand.
“Are we married?” Dean tries again to grasp for his memory but comes up empty handed. He strokes his thumb along the back of yours examining the ring.
I should remember that. How could I forget that we’re married?
“Feigning amnesia will not make me stay in bed with you. No matter how cute you are.” You gently lay your hand against his chest pushing him back so you can sit up in bed.
Dean can’t help but notice how beautiful and carefree you look. Hair catching fire in the light from the window, t-shirt brushing against the top of your thighs, and how you smile at him with so much love it makes something catch in his chest.
“Dean?” You suddenly look worried. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I’m just tired I guess.”
His cell phone rings where it sits on the nightstand, drawing his gaze to the alarm clock and car magazine that sit on top of the dark wood.
“You better answer that. It’s probably Sam asking us where we are.” You kiss him on the cheek, before standing up and walking into the closet on the edge of the bedroom.
Dean watches you go, his eyes tracing your familiar figure as you leave the room, before reaching for his phone.
“Hey where are you guys? Jessica’s freaking out because you haven’t brought the cake.” Sam’s voice triggers another memory for Dean, but this one remains allusive.
“Sam?”
“Dean.”
“Um.”
“Dean are you hungover or something?”
“No. Sorry, just running a little late-“ Dean apologizes looking around the bedroom. It’s small, filled with light from the open window that shows a quaint backyard. The dresser on the wall opposite the bed has photos of him and you, photos of Sam and Jessica, and a photo of Mary and John Winchester. Dean’s eyes stop on the photo as a memory triggers at the back of his mind, but Sam interrupts the thought.
“Well come on. Dad’s not going to like it if you guys miss mom’s birthday-“
“Dad?” Deans memory spikes again and he sees his father sitting in the drivers seat humming along to a song on the radio. Another memory flashes, Dean and his father standing behind the impala with Sam looking into the trunk.
“Yes dad. Your boss. Our father. Dean are you okay? Y/n said that you were painting the nursery last night all by yourself. You could have told me. I would have come over to help-“
“I’m alright Sammy.”
But he doesn’t feel alright, something is definitely wrong.
“Okay well hurry up. I’ll see you when you get here.”
Dean hangs up the phone and sits on the end of the bed with it in his hand.
You walk back into the room wearing a green sundress. Your hair is soft again, falling over your shoulders in a way that makes Dean’s breath catch, effortlessly beautiful.
A memory of you wearing jeans and a leather jacket washes across his mind of you standing with him at the back of the Impala reaching in for a shotgun while he knocks your hand away.
“Dean?” You walk towards him, this time standing between his legs. You place your hands on his shoulders and he can’t help but turn to look at the wedding ring. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because if you’re not feeling well we don’t have to go today. I can call your dad. But I just thought your really wanted to go. You hate missing your mother’s birthday. It’s usually you that drags me out of bed.” You trail your hand against the side of his face with a worried expression, to turn his gaze back on you.
Someone deep in the back of his mind the expression triggers something and he sees a memory of you. Except you’re holding a machete in your right hand that drips blood on the floor but, the look of worry in your eyes the same.
Where could that be from?
“I don’t know.”
“Hey.” You whisper, sitting down in his lap and his arms can’t help but secure you there, burying his head in your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’m scared too.”
“What?” Dean raises his head from your shoulder
“We’ve talked about this. You’re going to be a great dad. And honestly we probably won’t know what we’re doing, but that’s how everyone starts.” Your fingertips drag through his hair in a soothing motion.
Dean tries again to grasp at earlier memories of this life, early memories of you, but all he sees are motel rooms. Motel rooms where you sleep on a pullout couch in a corner and where Sam sits at a small table shuffling through endless books and papers.
Why?
Dean can’t understand, because that life seems so different than this one. This one where you look softer and happier, where you share a bed and are married. He thinks about the other memories, where your smile is not as bright, where there’s a hardness to your face, but still just as beautiful. Another memory of him and you sitting in a bar drinking beer, another of you laughing at something he said and hitting him, and finally one of you reading in bed while Dean sits at a motel table and watches you softly turn the pages.
Deep down Dean knows in his bones that in those memories you and him are just friends, but he allows himself to indulge in your touch, enjoying the comfort that comes with being with you.
“It’s not about the baby.” Dean sighs. “I just can’t remember how we got here.”
“Here?”
“Married.” His arms tighten around your waist not wanting to let go. You’re the only thing he recognizes in all of this.
“Um well, my car broke down and I brought it to a mechanic shop where I met a devilishly handsome man with green eyes.” You smile at him. “Who refused to let me leave until he bought me dinner.”
Dean stares at you.
“Practically kidnapped me. But you were so charming I couldn’t resist.” You lean closer to whisper in his ear. “Not to mention sexy covered in grease and wearing a meatloaf t-shirt.” You kiss him before he can respond, and he loses himself in you. The way you hold him close, the way your fingers work up into his hair to secure him right where he wants to be, and the way you feel in his arms wipes away any uncertainty. “As much as I’d like to go back to bed with you, we’re going to be late.” You whisper against his lips.
And Dean allows himself to be dragged away.
*********************************************
“Did you remember to order the parts for that ‘76 Camaro right?” John Winchester asks Dean, but Dean’s not focused, he can’t focus on anything.
The drive over to his parents house was different. Instead of sitting on the opposite side of the front seat of the impala, you had sat in the middle, holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder, humming softly.
It made driving for Dean especially difficult. The memories of you in his car that came across his mind while he drove distracted him.
You in the backseat shouting something at Dean while he completely ignored you rolling his eyes, you sitting in the front seat with a map trying to direct him while Sam slept in the back, you singing to “The Eye of the Tiger” with him while Sam tried to close his ears, and finally you asleep in the front seat with Dean’s jacket draped over you. That last one stayed in his mind. He liked how you looked wrapped up in his jacket, breath fogging the glass window, while Dean tried his best to drive smooth and slow so you wouldn't wake.
But you in the front seat holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder while humming along to the music blew all of those memories out of the water. All Dean wanted to do was exist there and then.
When you both arrived at his parents home Dean tried not to be disappointed. Now he was too distracted watching you talk and laugh with Jessica and his mother across the room to listen to anything his father said.
“Dean are you listening?” His dad tries again.
“Huh?” The cold beer in Dean’s hand drips condensation against his skin. He turns to look back at his father.
Another memory of him momentarily distracts Dean, this one of John leaving Dean and Sam in a motel room so he can go hunting.
Did we ever go hunting? Dean tries to think of a time where they went out into the woods to shoot some deer, but comes up empty handed. A few memories of him and Sam toting guns rise to the surface, but he can't remember why they had them.
"You'll have to excuse Dean, he's still mentally painting the nursery." Sam snorts into his beer.
"Shut up."
"Don't tease him Sam. I'm sure that Jessica will have you turn your office into a nursery before you know it." You appear on Dean's left, raising his arm around you so you can lean into his side. Dean automatically tightens his arm around your shoulders.
"Don't joke about that y/n."
"Uh-huh. You can't hide in that big fancy law firm forever. She'll find you." You smile up at Dean in a way that makes his heart feel like its stopped beating.
Why can't I remember any of this life?
"She's right." Jessica comes over to kiss Sam on the cheek.
"I do not hide at the firm-" Sam rolls his eyes.
"You do."
Mary Winchester comes over. "Are you fighting at my birthday party?"
Dean's father puts his arm around his mother, pulling her into his chest with a smile he hides by taking a swig of beer.
"No mom, we're not-"
"Sounded like a fight to me." You whisper to Dean, and he can't help but smile at you.
"It's not a fight y/n!"
"Don't yell at my wife Sammy." Dean says before he can stop himself. He thinks about how natural it sounded coming out of his mouth.
His wife. You're his wife. He thinks and presses a kiss to the top of your head that makes you sigh into his chest.
"I'm not yelling at y/n."
"Sam we're just teasing you." Jessica laughs, placing her hand against his chest. Dean notices the ring on her own finger, and a memory of Jessica rises in the back of his head. Jessica standing in the darkness of an apartment, while Dean holds on to the front of Sam's shirt, her eyes wide and confused.
But it vanishes when you wince in his arms. Dean's eyes are drawn back down to you, worry spiking in his chest.
"I'm okay." You whisper. "Just think Zeppelin is hitting his limit."
"You guys go on home. I think that John has grilled Dean about the garage enough." Mary smiles, before taking a step forward to hug you. Dean is disappointed when you leave his arms, but smiles despite, watching you with his mother.
"Let the little linebacker get some rest." John hugs you.
"Of course. Thank you so much for letting us come. I'm sorry we were late." Dean watches the subtle blush of your cheeks as you apologize.
"I'm sure it's my son's fault." Mary moves to hug Dean.
As soon as she does Dean is overwhelmed by a surge of sadness as another memory of his mother rises in the back of his mind that he can't quite bring into focus.
"Mom?" Dean whispers.
"Hmm?" She looks up at him confused. "We'll see you on Tuesday for dinner. Okay?"
"Okay."
"We love you."
"I love you too mom." But something sticks in his chest when he says it.
“Don’t forget to order the parts.” John says shaking Dean’s hand.
“Sure.”
“Bye Jessica. Let me know if you need us to bring anything for Tuesday.” Dean watches you hug her and just for a moment Dean sees Sam holding a bouquet of flowers at a gravesite.
What is happening?
*********************************************
When Dean pulls the Impala into the driveway of your home something still feels wrong. After saying goodbye to everyone he still can’t shake the feeling that he forgot something. The radio plays "Black Dog" filling the silence as the car idles in front of the house.
“Dean!”
“What?” He turns to look at where you sit beside him in the front seat.
“Feel.” You grab one of his hands from the wheel and place it against your abdomen an excited smile gracing your cheeks. “Little future drummer."
The kicking against the palm of his hand makes Dean smile, leaning forward into where you sit beside him. Happiness breaks in his chest like the crest of a wave. He can't remember a moment in his life where he felt this happy, this much love for someone.
"Y/n?"
"Mhmm."
"I love you." Dean refuses to believe that he has said it to anyone else ever in his life, can't remember wanting to say it to anyone else, can't believe that he will ever want to say it to anyone else.
"I love you too."
He leans down to kiss you, hand still against your stomach, drawing you further into him to breathe you in. Everything else vanishes, just the feel of your soft lips against his, the tickle of your hair against his cheeks, and the pulse of his son's kicks against the palm of his hand.
But then it's all gone.
*********************************************
"Dean!" Sam's voice jars him into reality, his eyes opening to see his brother standing over him, one hand on his shoulder. "Dean are you okay?"
"What happened?" Dean sits up with a groan, ignoring the headache that throbs behind his eyes.
His eyes adjust to the dim light. He's in a long room where wooden tables sit every few feet covered in dust and machinery blanketed with old sheets. The musty smell fills his nose, replacing the smell of your shampoo that lingers under his nose from when you were in the front seat with him.
"Djinn ambushed you. Y/n and I got here as soon as we could."
"Y/n?" The memories of the dream strike him in the chest all over again, merging with memories of reality. "Where is Y/n?"
You enter the room out of breath, blood flecked across your cheeks and holding a baseball bat that drips a dark liquid onto the concrete floor. “It’s dead.”
"You sure?" Sam asks raising an eyebrow.
"There's enough brain matter on the floor in there for a zombie buffet." You shoulder the baseball bat. "So yeah, it's dead."
Dean’s eyes trace your body taking in the leather jacket and dark t-shirt his memory flashing to the green sundress and beautiful smile. You’re half-smiling, but Dean can see the hardness in your face again and understands where it comes from.
She wasn’t a hunter. He thinks of the dream version of you, where your hair fell in soft curls, but now it’s tied back in a ponytail. His eyes drop to your abdomen expecting more, but disappointment flicks in his heart. It wasn’t real.
“Dean are you okay?” You step closer to him. The smile has dropped now, replaced with a worried expression.
He flashes back to when you asked him that in the dream, when you sat on his lap and tangled your hands in his hair, sighing into his mouth as he kissed you.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
He traces your face again but every time he does he only sees the other version of you, the version that’s in love with him, married to him. And he knows that here you are just his friend.
“Yeah.” He says again standing up. “Let’s get out of here.”
The ride back to the motel is silent. Dean doesn’t put on any music, too afraid that it’ll remind him of the memory of you and him in the front seat while his son kicked against his hand. Instead, all he can think of was how happy he was in the other life, how in love with you he was-
Dean knew that it wasn’t just a fantasy, that he really is in love with you, but now after seeing how everything could be, it weighed on his chest. Each time you looked at him he wanted to pull you close to him, hug you, kiss you, but he knew you would pull away. Because this version of you was not his.
“I’m going to go to that diner on the corner. You guys want something?” Sam looks around the room expectantly, but Dean doesn’t look up from the carpet.
“Sure.” Dean hears you respond. “Maybe just a burger and a piece of pie. Preferably apple but I'll take cherry if they have it."
“Okay. Dean?” Sam asks again.
Dean shakes his head. He can’t eat. Not now.
Sam hesitates at the door worried. “Are you sure?”
“I don’t want anything.” Dean snaps.
“Yeesh don’t bite my head off.” Sam throws you a shrug before leaving.
Dean is aware that it’s just the two of you now, the memory of the two of you in bed surfaces making him tighten his grip on the edge of the blanket beneath him.
“Dean?” You whisper.
“What?” His voice comes out harsher than he means it to.
“What’s wrong? You can tell me.”
“Nothing is wrong.” But he can’t look at you, not when he knows he'll look up and you won't be pregnant and not when the other version of you still has a hold of his heart.
“Dean you’re my best friend I know when something’s wrong. Plus you haven’t been able to look at me since you woke up and you never say no to food.”
“I’m fine.”
“Dean-“
“Just leave me alone damnit!” He snaps at you, able to raise his gaze from the floor for one second. Dean immediately feels bad, watching the pain in your eyes as he pushes you away. But he lowers his eyes to the carpet once more to avoid your gaze.
You sigh, but don’t get angry with him. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine. I'll just leave you alone then.”
And as soon as you leave to take a shower he feels the loss of you beside him.
He listens to the sound of the shower, feels the passing of time, but he does not move. The memories of the dream rise and fall, replacing the darkness of the hotel room with brilliant light. The memory of the sun catching your hair on fire as you laid next to him in bed tracing your fingertips along his jaw, the memory of you in the front seat of the Impala leaning against him and humming while you hold his hand, the memory of the party where he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you tightly into his chest, and finally the memory of the last kiss you shared in the front seat of the Impala each dance across his mind. He acutely feels the loss of your body against his, the loss of your lips, and finally the sound of your voice telling him you love him while his son kicked against his hand.
“Dean?”
He looks up at you. You look softer than you did. The blood is gone from your cheeks, your hair falls over your shoulders still wet from the shower, effortlessly beautiful, he decides. You’re wearing one of his old t-shirts that he gave you and a pair of sweatpants. It does something to him, watching you stand there in his shirt. It hangs past your waist like a dress, making you look smaller than you are. The smell of your shampoo wafts out of the bathroom, something familiar that makes his throat tight.
“You know when that Djinn got me a few months ago it threw me for a loop too.” You say softly leaning against the doorway of the bathroom. “Everything felt so real. It was hard to tell what was real and what wasn’t.”
Dean remembers when that happened. When you vanished out of the blue while checking out a case alone and he and Sam tore apart the small town looking for you. Dean remembers how worried he was, how desperate he was to find you.
I loved her then too. Dean realizes looking at you. How did I not know?
Dean remembers the aftermath, when you woke up and wouldn’t look at him. How your gaze was almost haunted and how he had to carry you out of there because you couldn’t move. He remembers you laying in bed and turning away from him and Sam when they had asked you what was wrong and the following day when you acted like nothing happened.
“What did it make you see?” Dean whispers, noting the way you shift back and forth on your feet. He hadn't seen you nervous before, seen you face down demons and vampires without batting an eye, but now you looked vulnerable.
You look down at your feet. “If I say it you can’t laugh.”
“I won’t.”
“Dean, I’m serious.”
“I promise I won’t laugh.” He watches the tension in your shoulders.
Why would she be afraid to tell me? We talk about everything.
“It was us.”
“What?” Shock tugs at his heart and for a second he thinks that he heard you wrong.
“It was us. We were married. We had 2 kids. My brother was still alive and my parents were talking to me again. I was happy there. It was hard to come back. Not that I’m not happy, but just that it’s hard to think you’ve lived a life that doesn’t exist. Especially one so different than all of this.” Dean watches you take in a deep breath, tapping your finger against your bicep, avoiding his eyes. “That was when I realized I was in love with you.”
Dean’s heart stops beating. “What did you just say-“
You look up and smile tightly. “It’s when I realized I was in love with you. That’s why I was so messed up. I didn't know how to-“
Sam chooses that exact moment to walk in loaded with bags of food. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing much.” Dean watches you easily shift your expression to hide what just happened, smiling at Sam as if you hadn’t said the one thing that Dean had been trying to say to you since he woke up. “Just trying to convince Dean to let me work on Baby. I think I’m wearing him down.”
Dean had never realized how much of a good liar you were until this moment, sure he had seen you pretend to be a government agent, but this was different.
“Like that’ll happen.” Sam hands you a bag of food before turning to look at Dean. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Dean watches you pull out the burger, stunned by your confession.
You place the burger next to him on the bed. “Eat this. It’ll help.”
“But-“ He looks up at you, wanting to finish the conversation.
“I promise I’m not that hungry Dean. I’d rather have the pie. Unless you’re going to fight me for it?” You smile raising an eyebrow.
Dean doesn’t understand why you’re acting like you didn’t just say you were in love with him. He gazes at you, searching your face. For a second he sees the mask slip, but before he can comment it’s gone.
“No I won’t.” He whispers.
“Good.” You turn to the made-up pull out couch and fold your legs underneath you with the slice of pie balanced on your knee, before reaching into your bag for a worn paper back.
Dean sits there watching you turn the pages. She loves me. The memory of you in his dream in the front seat of the Impala whispering it to him doesn’t hold the same weight because now all he can hear is you saying it here, now.
Dean can’t move. He wished Sam would leave again. He wished Sam would leave so he could bring you into his chest and kiss you, so he could tell you the one thing he wished he said ages ago.
But he doesn't. All he does is sit there and watch you read.
*********************************************
A few hours after Sam and you have fallen asleep Dean lays in his bed and stares up at the ceiling. He can hear your soft breaths against the pillow, the crinkle of the sheets as you move in your sleep. Usually he allowed himself to fall asleep listening to you, but tonight all it did was keep him awake. Each time he shut his eyes he saw the memory of you in bed with him burning against his eyelids and each time he shut his eyes he heard the real you telling him that you loved him.
Finally, he can't take it anymore.
Dean gets up and makes his way over to the pull-out couch, pausing once to move the paperback book out from under your head. It wasn't the first time that you'd fallen asleep reading, and Dean thought it was cute.
He slides into the bed behind you, gently touching your shoulder to wake you as quietly as possible.
"Hmm." You inhale softly.
"Y/n." Dean whispers.
He watches you turn towards him, eyes blinking in the darkness to rouse yourself from sleep. You hair is flared out over the pillows, eyes hazy. “Dean what are you-“
Dean moves his arm to your waist before pulling you flush into his chest, lips finding yours. The memories of the kiss in his dream are everywhere, but none of them compare to this. You sigh into his mouth, bringing your hands into his hair. Dean breathes you in. You still taste like apple pie, body soft against his, lips smooth and welcoming.
“I love you too.” He whispers against your mouth, eyes finding yours in the darkness of the hotel room.
Your smile breaks him. “It made you see us didn’t it?”
“How did you know?”
“The way you looked when you came out. The way you looked at me. I think it’s the same way I looked at you when I woke up." You brush back his hair and Dean can't help but lean forward into your touch. "What did it make you see?"
“We were married. You were pregnant and I was working at a garage. My parents were alive. Jessica was alive-“
“Oh Dean.” You cup his cheeks with a sorrowful expression, before brushing your lips against his. “I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter now.” Dean brings you into his chest, laying on his back so you can rest your head on his heart. His hand slowly traces up and down your spine. You both lie there for a few moments. The subtle beat of your heart soothing the sadness that rises with the memory of his mother and father. Your hand gently rests against his shirt, fingers curling into the soft fabric.
“I missed you.” He hears you whisper into his chest.
“What?” Dean doesn't understand. "Where did I go?"
“Not like that. I know that it sounds stupid, but we were so happy in the dream. It made me miss you, miss this.” He feels you rub your face into the front of his shirt.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Dean you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose any of this.” You prop yourself up look him in the eye. “I’m happy here with you and Sam. Y’all are my family and I didn’t want to jeopardize that just because I’m in love with you.”
“Did you think I would have made you leave if you told me that?” Dean can’t help but feel hurt. Sure it would have been awkward for a little bit, but I’d never do that to y/n.
“Not made me leave, more phase me out. It would have made all of this awkward and-“ He watches the weight settle on your shoulders as you press your forehead into the space between his collar bone and neck. “I’ve lost so many things. I didn’t want to lose you.”
Dean squeezes you to him. “You’re not going to lose me sweetheart.” He traces a fingertip under your chin to raise your face to his. “I love you. And even if I didn’t, you’re my family too. I wouldn’t make you leave just because it was a little awkward. We’ve all been through too much together for that.” Dean’s thumb rubs soft circles against your cheek.
“I love you too.” You whisper, the soft smile gracing your lips mirrors the memory from the dream, but this time it fills him with warmth and comfort, because this time he knows it’s real. It's not some Djinn messing with his head, it's you. You lean upwards to kiss him gently, while Dean weaves his hand through you hair to secure you to him.
But then you pull away, your smile slipping into a smirk. “So when you say family, are you saying you see me as a sister or a cousin? Because, I don’t know how things are in Kansas, but where I'm from, that's kind of a red flag.“
Dean sighs loudly. Before he rolls you over and pins you to the bed, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.
“Oh. So as a sister-“ You joke.
“You are one of the most annoying people on the planet.”
“I know. It’s why you love me.” You trace his lips with your index finger, gazing up at him the same way the dream version of you did.
Dean feels warmth trail behind your touch. “One of the reasons at least.”
But just as he leans to kiss you again-
“If you guys don’t shut up I’m not going to get any sleep.” Sam grumbles from his bed. “I could have told you two idiots, that you loved one another and it would have taken five seconds.”
“You don’t have to eavesdrop-“ You say glaring over in the direction of Sam’s bed.
“Kinda hard not to when you guys are making out. LOUDLY. I might add.”
“Gonna have to get used to it Sammy.” Dean snorts, before pushing your hair back behind your ear and drawing your gaze back to his face.
“Next time you guys are getting your own room.” Sam continues. “That way I can get some sleep.”
“Doesn’t seem very economical.” You say, but you’re gazing up at Dean again with the smile that makes him feel like he’d swallowed the sun. “I love you.” Your voice is barely a whisper.
“I love you too.” Dean leans down once more to capture your lips against his, erasing all semblance of everything else, except the feel of your body beneath him and the warmth that surges with each breath as the dream of you becomes a reality.
*********************************************
Thank you so much for reading!
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester#supernatural#spn#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fluff#spn fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction#dean x reader#sam winchester
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Almost Like You Need Someone
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Song Inspo: Be Someone by Benson Boone
Summary:
You, Dean and Sam are fighting America's monsters together. Coming from a long line of hunters, you fit right in with the Winchester boys, with one exception: your character shines as bright as the sun, bringing light even into the darkest corners of every place you go. Dean's never seen anything like it. Before he knows it, he's become infatuated with you...
Word count: 2434 words
Warnings: mention of child death, other than that it's just fluff!
A/N: I came across the song that inspired this one shot yesterday and got to writing pretty much right away. I couldn't help but imagine what could have become of Dean if he'd had a constant source of happiness in his life and this one shot is what came out of that. Just pure fluff. I couldn't stop grinning while writing this 🤪 I integrated the song's lyrics here and there. I highly recommend listening to the song before/during reading. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 🤭
Bobby introduced you to the boys, one lonesome duckling getting paired with two other lonesome ducklings. Together, the three of you take on the world as a flock. You’ve hunted together with Dean and Sam for quite some time now. Just one and a half years older than Sam, you’ve grown quite comfortable sandwiched between the two Winchester boys.
The work isn’t easy. More often than not, you return from a hunt covered in gore from head to toe. Blood, intestines, slime - you’ve been doused in it all, and then some. Despite the gruesome nature of your job, you have a way of keeping a light heart around it all. It’s physically challenging - but it keeps you fit. You have no permanent home - but you get to travel the country. You don’t get paid in dollars, but in the gratitude of the people you’ve saved. Whatever happens - you’ll find a way of putting a positive spin on it.
And it’s not just for show either. You’re a good-natured spirit through and through, bringing light and smiles to every room you set a foot into.
It’s one of the many things that have Dean completely puzzled and amazed at the same time. He's never seen anything like it. How someone who grew up in the hunter’s business could be as lighthearted as you are is beyond him, even though he knows your story. Your family has been hunting what goes bumping in the night for generations. It’s this expertise that has brought about your family’s devotion to a happy life: to fight the dark, you need to carry light in your heart. With two parents who doted on you any second they were not wrapped up in a hunt, you got raised in a world where there were monsters under your bed, but also parents by your side to teach you how to deal them. For each terror you fought, your parents would go out of their way to show you not one, but two instances of the good and beautiful in the world. They kept your scale balanced and ignited the spark that grew into the light you now carry within you, spreading it towards anyone you meet. And it’s infectious.
It starts slow. At first, it’s an easy smile that appears on Dean’s face anytime you enter the room without him even being aware of it. It grows wider when you give him a smile of your own, and you do, every day, without fail. He finds himself making jokes just to hear your laugh. It hasn’t yet occurred to him that he wants to be the reason that the corners of your lips turn upwards, that he wants to be the one to put that spark in your eyes.
On long research nights at the library, he gets you coffee, making you giggle when he tells Sam to get his own with a wink at you. It’s disguised as silly banter between brother and brother, not clear favoritism for you.
You connect with victims and their families in your own, heartfelt way that reminds him of the way his mother used to tend to him when he was small. There’s kindness and softness in your voice and more often than not, you end up wiping tears of your face as you’re told about the people the families are grieving. He teases you about it but hopes you never stop.
A small voice appears in his head and questions him when he makes sure not to sit next to you every time you guys go out to eat a diner so as not to raise suspicion. ‘Suspicion of what?’ the small voice says, but he shoves it aside and tells it to shut it, the same way he tells Sammy to quit yapping when he’s going on his nerves.
He shares little about his past but answers honestly when you ask, just not in so many words. Part of him doesn’t like talking about it, even if it’s you. The other part of him wants you to do the talking. Doesn’t matter what it’s about. He wants to know it all. Sam can share one of his literature findings and it goes into one ear and out the other, unless it’s case-related. You, on the other hand, get started on a ramble about the cinematography of a French movie you saw last night, and he finds himself intrigued with your analysis, despite never having cared for any French movie of any kind. Sam is happy to join the conversation, having seen the movie himself, and it’s the first time he gives Dean a look of suspicion. “Since when do you care about this stuff?” Dean grunts. “I don’t. It’s just that she makes it sound a LOT more interesting than you do.” He slaps his baby brother on the back of the head and that’s the end of that. For a while.
You share your time equally with the brothers, naturally flowing from one to the other as the situation sees fit. Never having been one to shy away from body contact, you’re often sprawled out over the two of them on the couches that are slightly too big for two and awkwardly too small for three in your motel rooms. A head leaning on Sam’s shoulder, one leg stretched out over Dean’s lap. Sleeping arrangements usually turn out in your favor, although you never ask to be treated with privilege. The boys insist: you get one side of the bed, always. A quick game of rock, paper, scissors determines who gets the other side and who gets the couch. The longer you three travel together, the more Dean hopes to beat the game, although he loses to Sam more often than he likes. The small voice becomes louder in those nights on the couch, when he’s tossing and turning and telling himself that the only reason he wants to be on one side of that bed is not because you’re on the other side of it, but because the cushions of the sofa are all worn out and uncomfortable and he’ll wake up with a stiff neck. Still, the small sting he feels when he wakes in the morning and sees you sprawled across the bed, your head nestled against Sam’s arm, is undeniable. “Wake up, you two love-birds,” he tends to say and throws a pillow at Sam’s face, never at you. Without fail, Sam throws the pillow back, paired with a grouchy “shut up” and an eye-roll. It makes you laugh, the way the two sometimes bicker like an old married couple. Dean wonders if Sam truly feels as nonchalant about it as he appears or if he enjoys the way you cuddle up to him at night. On the rare occasions that Dean does share the bed with you, you try to keep on your side of the bed after you noticed him stiffen up when you rolled up against him. He often thinks about telling you that you don't have to do that, that you can cuddle up to him in bed the same way you do on the couch, but he doesn't know how without it sounding awkward.
One day, your trio gets a particularly rough case. This time, there's a child among the victims. He sees the family's grief rip into you and bury its claws deep, fueled by your empathy that he's come to see as a strength, rather than a weakness. It takes you longer to recover than it normally does. Despite killing the responsible monster and setting an end to its killing spree, the light that usually shines so bright within you remains dim. Both Sam and Dean feel the affect the child's death has had on you.
Sam, ever the more capable one when it comes to feelings, asks if you want to talk about it. And although it's not Dean's field of expertise, he listens intently. He wants to know about your pain, even if he doesn't know how to take it from you. He lets Sam do most the talking but keeps looking at you through the rearview mirror. That's when he sees it for the first time, the smallest look from behind your eyes when yours meet his - that this is a moment where you need someone to be the light. That night, he gets on Sam's laptop and does some research of his own.
The next day, him and Sam are arguing about the best possible route towards their next stop. On other days, you would intervene, but you remain silent and look out the window, leaving him and Sam to figure it out on their own. Sam is convinced the direction Dean wants to go is a detour, but Dean insists it's the correct way. Half an hour later, the three of you drive through a town's main street when you suddenly come to live in the backseat: you've spotted a pet shop, its window full with a litter of puppies climbing over themselves. You turn to Dean in the driver's seat and ask if you can make a quick stop here. Already, there's a stronger glow in your eyes than there was a moment ago. "Sure, why not," he replies. "I could use a bit of a stretch for my legs."
When you step out to go see the puppies, Sam looks at him with a knowing smile. "That was nice of you." - "I have no idea what you're talking about." Dean gets out of the care and stretches his legs, but Sam is quick to follow him. "Dude." He rests his arms Baby's roof and watches Dean stalk around the car. "You never take driving breaks except to take a piss. I've never once seen you 'stretch your legs' before." He puts his hands in the air, miming air-quotes. "So what? I'm sore from the hunt. Son of a bitch had me sprinting." Dean shrugs and leans against the hood of the car, apparently all done with his mini-workout. Sam just smiles that knowing smile again. "Sure. Whatever you say."
A couple of minutes later, you return to the car. Your light is not back to full capacity quite yet, but there's color in your cheeks and crinkles by your eyes, leftover from the smile that's still lingering on your lips. "How was it?" Sam asks when you sit down on the backseat. You lean forward and grip the edges of their seat. "So. Many. Puppies," you say in a breathy voice. "Cuteness overload. I think I died and went to heaven for a moment there." Both the brothers chuckle and you settle into your seat while Dean gets Baby back on the road. Sam glances in the rearview mirror and sees you have resumed your position at the window, but you seem more light-weighted than you did just a few minutes ago. Another glance at his big brother and he smiles to himself. Bringing the smile count in the car to three, Dean is wearing his satisfied smile proudly.
From there on, Sam subtly removes himself from your trio now and then. He suggests you and Dean talk to a victim's friend while he'll speak to the professor they think could help them. During another late night at yet another library, he purposely sits diagonally from you, leaving the chair opposite and next to you open. He offers to get dinner, leaving you and Dean at the motel room the three of you have booked for the night.
Dean doesn't notice. He's too busy finding the balance between what he wants and what he thinks is appropriate. What he wants is you, to be near you, all the time. The light in you is addicting. It's such a stark contrast to everything he's known for most of his life. When his mother passed, the darkness that took over John and consumed him also infected Dean. He did his best to shield his baby brother from it, and sometimes, when he looks at Sam, he can see that his efforts weren't in vain. The youngest Winchester has an optimism about him that Dean never found himself. He's happy for his brother. It's never crossed his mind than in the process of protecting Sam, he never took care of himself. His own twilight never seemed so troublesome, he got used to it after all and eventually knew his way around, the way you can walk through your own house in the pitch-black of night and not knock into anything because you know where everything is placed. He didn't need to light a match or even a candle, it was always just bright enough to make out the outline of the furniture. That is, until he met you, and you shone so bright that, for a brief moment, his insights got illuminated, like the headlights of a passing car briefly dancing across a room at night, and suddenly, the furniture turned from grey to color.
And now he needs more. He didn't know how intoxicating a person could be, until he met you. Suddenly, a lit match isn't enough, neither is a candle. He needs your floodlights, the way a ship needs a beacon. He's drawn to you like a moth to the flame.
And sure, he could live without you. He's lived in the semi-darkness for so long and it's familiar, but now he's seen color, and fuck, he wants it.
But more than that, he wants to be someone for you. He sees what you do for the world and wants to give it back to you, doubled, tripled, quadroupled. He wants to be your someone to have, someone to hold, your somewhere to go when nights get cold. He wants to be the one to sweep you off your feet.
However, wanting one thing and doing it can be two different things at opposite ends of the spectrum. The more he's drawn to you, the less he finds the words to tell you so. 'What if's cross his mind. What if you don't feel the same? What if, by admitting how he feels, he ruins what you guys have? It keeps him up at night while he wishes that he was the reason to keep you up.
It doesn't seem so hopeless, though. From time to time, you give him the smallest look from behind your eyes, and it's almost like you need someone. And every single time, without fail, he thinks that he could be that someone.
Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)
Find part 2 here! - Masterlist
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fluff#dean x reader#supernatural imagine#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfic#dean winchester one shot#supernatural one shot
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Just Don't Say You Love Me
Summary: Dean believes you have a good thing going. When you tell him your moving on, he realizes he needs to reassess the relationship and his life before it’s too late.
Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, miscommunication, unrequited love, friends with benefits, implied smut, Dean doesn’t get a happy ending.
W/C: 4,776.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Sam Winchester.
Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: Just Please Don’t Say You Love Me by Gabrielle Alpin.
A/N: I tried to fix the angst, but it’s not happening, so the unhappy ending will remain (for now). Special shoutout to @kazsrm67 and @pink-sparkly-witch for helping and offering words/comments of encouragement.
Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own.
Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89
Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
You knock on Jody’s door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, some residual adrenaline still playing havoc with your nerves. It’s been a long and insightful day.
Dean opens the door with a smile, but it quickly morphs into an appreciative grin as his eyes travel the length of your body. “Wow,” he says, “who knew all that was hiding under that uniform.”
You laugh, stepping through the door, not in the least bit phased by his comment. It's not the first time you’ve been told that. “Yeah, that uniform is like an invisibility cloak. I put it on, and no man sees me. Guess you're no exception,” you explain, turning to look at him again.
“Well, I see you now,” he says, quickly lifting his focus from your ass to your face. “Um, they’re through there,” he gestures for you to go ahead of him.
“There she is,” Jody says, embracing you with one arm while she places the huge bowl of salad on the table. “How’re you doing?”
“Guess I’m still a little shell-shocked, but I’m okay.”
“Well, we’re all here to help you…adjust,” Sam offers with a kind smile.
Discovering monsters are, in fact, very real and not just a Halloween marketing ploy is definitely going to be an adjustment. But what choice do you have? These people have given you an in. They’ve let you into their secret club, and honestly, you feel privileged that they trust you and think you are capable enough to help.
If you weren’t capable, neither Jody nor Dean would be here right now, a fact Sam keeps thanking you for over dinner.
“Thank you for being so cool about this,” he says again, lifting his beer bottle to clink it against yours.
“I’ll freak out later,” you joke, though you probably will.
“Seriously, you rushed in there, no hesitation, and you held your own,” Jody adds to Sam’s praise. “You certainly proved I picked the right woman for my team.”
“And I can’t thank you enough for that,” you say, genuinely grateful for the opportunity to work with her.
You’ve had some awful bosses and equally shitty jobs over the years, so it's nice to have found Sheriff Mills. Okay, so you’ll be fighting real-life monsters occasionally, but what’s a little compromise?
They answer all your questions, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little overwhelming. Dean keeps flashing a tight smile in your direction, and you’re not sure if it's meant to be reassuring or if he’s biting his tongue and trying not to be rude. Regardless of his intention, Jody and the boys’ promises to help you come to grips with it all make it seem manageable.
“Am I going to get to hear the story of how you met those two?” you ask Jody in the kitchen later.
“Definitely, but not tonight,” she explains, handing you a clean, soapy plate to rinse and dry.
Dean and Sam laugh in the other room, and Jody smiles wistfully. It’s so sweet and motherly it chokes you up a little.
“The years have not been kind to those boys,” she says, focusing back on the dishes. “They keep their circle small, and I’m grateful that they let me be a part of it, and now you get to join it, too.”
“It’s a damn good-looking circle,” you confess.
Jody chuckles, “Ah, so you noticed Dean as much as he noticed you.”
“Don’t go all matchmaker on me again,” you warn, “do I need to remind you of the disaster that was Paul?”
“No, you do not. I’m just making an observation. The circle is indeed good-looking, and Dean has been doing a lot of observing of his own.”
“Yeah, not sure that’s for the reasons you’re implying,” you say, “Dean doesn’t seem like he wants me to be helping out.”
Dean’s voice startles you, “You saved our asses.” You jump, twisting to look at him, “that’s enough.”
“But if I can do more…”
“The life of a hunter isn’t a life I'd recommend,” he explains, reaching for a beer from the fridge, “ it’s messy and painful and usually ends badly.”
“That’s life in general,” you counter, “and if something is happening and I don’t do anything to help, I’m part of the problem.”
“That’s fine,” he says, throwing his bottle top into the trash. “You’re a bigger part of the problem if you get into a situation you can’t get out of.”
“Dean,” Jody scolds, “take it easy. You said it yourself, she saved our asses today. She’s proven she’s capable.”
“All I’m saying is I’ll help where and if I can,” you explain. “I’m not going to go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer and start patrolling graveyards.”
It’s faint, but a slight quirk tugs his lips, breaking the building tension.
“Besides, I’m sure our uniform makes us invisible to monsters as well as men.”
He laughs properly at that, “Not invisible to me anymore,” his tongue sits behind his teeth, and you're suddenly jealous when he wraps his lips around the bottle.
“Good to know,” you say.
You hold each other’s gaze, perhaps a challenge to see who will shy away first.
“Cool it, you two,” Jody warns, flicking water off the tips of her fingers at you both.
“Sorry, boss,” you laugh. “And on that note, I’m gonna get going.”
“Need a ride?” Dean asks, a smug smirk in play.
“I would love one,” you wink, but follow up with, “but it’s a nice night. Think I’m gonna walk, work off some of that wine.”
“Why don’t you walk her home?” Jody suggests.
Dean nods, “lead the way.”
When you’d balked, telling Dean you didn’t need an escort, he’d countered, saying he needed the fresh air, but you think it’s more to check up on you and maybe flirt a little more without an audience if your instincts are correct. It’s been nothing but small talk since leaving Jody’s until you're standing on your porch facing one another.
“So how are you really taking all this?” he asks.
“I had a little freak out before I got to Jody’s,” you answer honestly, “but truthfully, it makes me feel a little better about the world.”
He huffs a laugh, and his confused frown is adorable. “Okay, that’s a first.”
“There’s so much evil in the world. It’s scary enough without knowing what I know now,” you explain, adding, “Maybe some of the unexplainable evil that’s all over the news is explainable. Maybe it’s not humans being horrible. Maybe it’s actually something evil.”
“Huh, I never thought of it like that.”
“I’m not saying I’ll remember that the next time a vamp is kicking my ass,” you laugh.
“Hey,” he scolds, “you agreed, no hunting.”
You hold your hands up, surrendering. “I won’t go looking for it, but if it comes to Sioux Falls, I’m all over it,” you promise, but your body has other ideas as an overall ache spreads through you as the day's events catch up with you. “Well, maybe in a few days when I’ve recovered from the last one.” Subconsciously, your tongue rolls over the cut on your bottom lip.
“That hurt?” he asks.
“I’ve had worse.” You shrug. The way he’s looking at you dulls the sting of the cut, and the tired ache in your bones shifts and reshapes into a simmering itch that needs scratching.
“You gonna be okay?” he asks, pointing over your shoulder toward your door. The implication of you being alone goes unsaid.
“I’ll be fine,” you say, trying not to roll your eyes. “But maybe you want to come in? Have a coffee or something, distract me a little longer so I don’t freak out too much?”
He smiles, wetting his lips. He knows that’s not what you're asking, and you wonder how often the offer of ‘coffee or something’ has been used successfully on him. He looks down at his shuffling feet, heaving a sigh. “I should get back.”
The hesitation is clear, yet he doesn’t move. A surge of adrenaline spreads through you, and your heart rate increases. When he looks up, catching your eyes, the intensity of the long, loaded pause is enough to make you wonder, if monsters exist, then maybe that electricity everyone talks about is real, too, because it feels like if you touch your hand to Dean’s face, sparks will fly.
“Thanks again for the save today,” he whispers.
“Anytime,” you smile.
You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you're as one, mouths connected, exploring the other’s, hands groping and gripping, and your lip stings for a split second, but then Dean has you pinned against your door, and you forget about it.
He pulls away and kisses your neck, “Maybe,” he says, scraping his teeth against your jaw, “we should take this inside.”
Your arrangement with Dean works. No pressure, no expectations. Summer comes, and winter fades, but your relationship remains mutually beneficial.
He rolls through Sioux Falls, that charming smile - that you’re not sure he knows quite how charming it is - “passing through,” but he stays a few days. He always claims it’s to catch up with Jody and the girls, but he spends most of his time at your place, and it’s too coincidental that you’re never on shift or scheduled for a few days when Baby pulls up outside.
Jody insists she has nothing to do with it. Yes, she's the sheriff, yes, she’s your boss, and makes the rotas, but “The only thing I swing is that I get to work with you,” she’d promised, winking. And you love her for that. Some of the men are still stuck in the past, and though they don’t say it, you can tell they don’t think women can do the job.
If only they knew. You’ve helped on a few hunts now. There’s no doubt in your mind that your relationship with Dean wouldn’t be what it is if you didn’t know about the real evils of the world. But each hunt ended the same: a dead monster and your body beneath Dean’s.
You're in your room lacing up your little white summer pumps when the Impala’s engine announces his arrival.
You jump to your feet, quickly check yourself in your mirror, smoothing down the already smooth summer dress, and call out, “It’s open,” when his knock echoes around the house.
“Wow, look at you,” he says, freezing partway over the threshold to admire you as you bounce down the stairs.
You deliver your usual greeting, a swift kiss to his lips, and the unmistakable aroma of leather and cheap motel soap assaults your senses - damn, you’ve missed him - but you won’t say it. Instead, you show it, making the kiss deeper.
He shuffles inside, uses your hips to steady himself as he kicks the door closed, and then wraps his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against him.
Your phone rings, and you fumble to find it on the table by the door, but as soon as you do, Dean releases you, kissing your neck and collarbone.
“Hey, hi,” you answer.
“Hey babe,” your best friend sings, and you know it's because she needs something. “Can you grab some ice on your way over?”
“Yeah, sure, okay.”
“You okay?”
No. Yes.
Dean is kneading your breasts, nibbling on the skin that spills out the top of your sundress. “Yeah, just rushing, I’m running late.”
“So late,” he mumbles into your skin.
“Well, hurry more,” she says before hanging up.
“Oh fuck, Dean, you gotta stop,” you whine.
He groans, dulling the sting of his bite with a sweet kiss, and pulls back to look at you. “This a bad time, isn’t it?”
You nod, feeling as disappointed as he looks. “It’s my friend's birthday. She’s having a barbeque.”
He sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder and mumbling into your neck. “Damn it.”
“I have to at least show my face,” you say, using your hands on his cheeks to pull his head up to look into his eyes. “But you can stay here, take a shower, watch a movie or something, and maybe in a couple of hours, I get a headache and need to come home.”
Wetting his lips, he smirks before delivering a brief kiss. “Or,” he draws out the syllable, mild hesitation clear in his eyes, “Maybe I can come with you?”
Since Chuck is no longer an issue, Dean has been making an effort to live in the moment, opening himself up, if only a little. So you try to quell the shock of his suggestion. It quickly evolves to a pleased grin when your mind flashes to your friends' faces when you walk in with the infamous Dean. They will lose their shit. You like spending time with Dean but don’t want to cross any lines or make assumptions. “I’d like that,” you smile, “but you really don’t have to.”
“I’m sure I can survive a couple hours with your friends, and you know I can always eat.”
“Okay,” you nod, smile widening. “If you’re sure.”
He kisses you again, a simple but effective peck on your lips. “But maybe we both get a headache in a couple of hours.”
“Deal,” you agree, sealing it with another casual kiss. “Maybe lose a few layers. It’s summer.”
He laughs, shrugging off his jacket. “I’m sure I have a clean Fed shirt in the trunk.”
“Perfect,” you say, grabbing your bag and keys. “Want me to drive?”
He rolls his eyes, jesting, “Did that kiss fry your brain?” as he follows you out the front door.
He opens the passenger door for you, and before you slip inside, you tell him, “Oh, and whatever my friends say I’ve said about you, it’s all lies.”
He grins smugly, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
The shower has done wonders for your developing hangover. Your friend's barbecue lasted longer than you had anticipated, but the day couldn’t have gone better.
Dean fit in well with everyone and crushed it at beer pong. It was a success all around, and when you’d quietly asked if he wanted to leave, he’d said no, that he was having too much fun.
The fun continued when you got home, and Dean is undoubtedly still feeling the effects as well. It’s almost midday, and he’s still sound asleep in your bed when you enter your bedroom in clean sweats and your bra while you towel dry your hair.
Dean is lying on his stomach, with his face smushed adorably against the pillow he’s hugging, taking advantage of all the space now that you’ve vacated.
You crawl across the bed, leaning over him, and he still doesn’t stir. You put your lips close to his ear and half whisper, “Morning.”
His brow instantly creases, and he squeezes his eyes tighter, groaning, “No, no, you have to go away.”
“You gotta get up. It’s almost midday.”
“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, eyes still squeezed shut. “You have to take your horrible talking, talky mouth away from me.”
“Okay, you asked for it.” You laugh, sitting back and wringing your hair out so the excess water drips on his naked back.
“Ah,” he groans, arching up off the mattress.
You jump off the bed, laughing as you walk to the mirror to start doing your hair. Turning over, he rubs a hand over his face and then both through his hair, causing it to stick up adorably. He catches you staring in the mirror, and you quickly avert your eyes.
“Damn, your friends can drink,” he says, sitting up against the headboard.
You laugh, that’s an understatement. “They definitely know how to have fun.”
“They seem like a good bunch.”
“They liked you too,” you smile at his reflection, and he grins back. “Laura told me to invite you to her and Chris’ wedding.”
His expression shifts, staring off into the distance for a singular moment as if he’s imagining how that would play out. But as quickly as it appears, it drops when he scrubs a hand down his face to put the mask back on. “That’s cool, but I can’t make that kind of commitment.” He swings his legs off the bed, putting his back to you. “I don’t know where I’ll be.”
You hadn’t expected a solid answer, but the double meaning behind his words settles thick disappointment in your stomach. You’ve never asked for any commitment nor discussed the arrangement between you, but hearing him say it aloud singes the hope you always try to contain.
Dean quickly gets to his feet, swaying at the abruptness. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” He mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he heads to the bathroom.
It’s been less than ten minutes, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone, when he finds the courage to face you again. He’s talking to Sam on his phone, obnoxiously loud, as he descends the stairs, trying to make a point of his hasty need to depart.
He appears in the kitchen doorway, jacket in hand, hair dripping onto the shoulders of his henley. You guess you should be grateful he wasn’t cowardly enough to have just shouted goodbye from the door.
“Listen, I’m sorry about before.” He moves closer to the table, eyeing you as he raps his knuckles on the polished wood. “It’s just that, even with Chuck out of the picture, I’m not sure how things are going to play out. I can’t make any, uh, long-term commitments. Sam and-“
“I get it, Dean.” The last thing you want is any tension between you, so you nip the growing uncomfortableness. “We don’t need to have any awkward conversations.”
He bobs his head, hope swimming in his eyes. “So, we’re good?”
You take your mug to the sink, and once your back is to him, you say, “Yeah, we’re good.”
“You sure?” You didn’t hear him move, but the air shifts behind you, bringing his warmth along with it.
Plastering on a smile, you turn to face him and nod. “Take care of yourself.”
The corner of his mouth curls upward, and he kisses your forehead before heading to the door, “Talk to you soon,” he calls before the door clicks shut.
Fools rush in. Dean is no fool. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel like being one sometimes. Usually, it’s when he’s on the road, heading home from a hunt or supply run, he daydreams about how things could be with you.
The daydream isn’t much different from how things already are. The sex would just be coupled with more official dates – dinner, movies, watching him, which for some reason turns you on, ‘do his thing’ as you call it when he’s hustling suckers at pool. Hell, even grocery shopping. He’d sneak unhealthy snacks into the cart because you promised Sam you’d take care of him, and you would. Dean knows you’d be good to him, that you are good for him. But he’s lived that life. He doesn’t need a wake-up call to know how it ends.
It’s a nice daydream. It gives him a much-needed boost of serotonin when he’s in short supply. But like the gas that fuels Baby, the thought has vaporized by the time he shuts off the engine.
Chuck isn’t calling the shots anymore, but that doesn’t mean the big bads aren’t still gunning for the Winchester's demise. Sam has it all figured out with Eileen, and Dean wishes he could be as sure about what he wants life to look like now. But he can’t be sure of anything, at least not yet. He’s still working on adjusting to a life not consumed by hunting. Trying to come to terms with the fact that there isn’t something lurking around every corner, that the choices he makes – good and bad – are truly his and not fueled by some life-ending curveball Chuck tosses at them.
The doubts bore deeper, and as always, when he’s drowning in his own head, he thinks of you.
He remembers how you busted down the door with borrowed equipment from Sioux Falls. You’d looked frantic but still in control. Your mere presence had calmed him, and not because you were there to rescue him. You didn’t waste a breath with a witty comment like he would have. You let off two shots, dropped the ghoul about to take a chunk out of him, and then untied him.
You’d been cool and calm, checked him for injuries, but didn’t believe he was truly okay till he kissed you breathless. That adrenaline-filled, kiss-swollen lips, slightly frantic edge to your eyes, is the picture he conjures whenever he thinks of you.
It’s been a while since he’s seen you. You’ve exchanged a few calls, but now that his mind is stuck on that picture of you, he has to see you.
He shoots Sam a text, telling him he’ll be in Sioux Falls if Sam needs anything, and then pulls an illegal u-turn to put himself in your direction.
Dean’s not phased that you aren’t home when he shows up. It’s not like he called ahead. He never does. But now that he’s here, he doesn’t want to waste time tracking you down, so he calls.
“Hey,” you greet brightly.
The smile in your voice brings out his. “Hey, yourself. I’m at your door.”
“Shit, sorry, I’m not there.”
He chuckles, “Are you around, or does my timing suck again?”
“No, no, it’s kinda perfect, actually,” you say. “I was gonna call you later anyway. But I need a half hour or so.”
“I can wait.”
“Greasy Sal’s?” you offer.
He smiles, already salivating at the thought of a Greasy Sal’s cheeseburger. “Throw in some curly fries,” he requests.
“Okay, got it,” You laugh.
Dean sits on the Impala’s hood while he waits, head tilted toward the sun, eyes closed while he catches the day’s last rays. The sound of your car’s engine isn’t as distinct as Baby’s, but he knows it well enough that as soon as he hears it, he opens his eyes and watches you turn onto the street. It’s not until that moment that he realizes how eager he is to see you. Maybe Greasy Sal’s can wait; he has another hunger he needs to sate.
He waits till you shut off the engine to open your door, “such a gentleman,” you quip, taking his offered hand to step onto the sidewalk. “Or are you clambering for food?”
“Not what I’m hungry for,” he says, guiding you against your car. He presses himself against you, feeling the coolness of the air conditioning on your clothes. He circles the tip of your nose with his own, whispering, “Hey,” against your lips before claiming them as his own.
Frustratingly, you push a hand into his chest after the first brush of his tongue, and he pulls back to look at you. You're looking up at him from under hooded eyes, and he feels like his heart skips a beat, or maybe he’s just a little out of breath. But he knows that with you gazing up at him like he’s a beautiful sunset, he really has missed you.
“Maybe we should take this inside.”
“Absolutely,” he says, slightly impatient that he can’t get you naked then and there.
He walks to the trunk to get your shopping bags and follows you up the path. He has a bag packed with his essentials but never brings it inside until the next morning. Something about bringing it in before you’ve had sex seems presumptuous, which is crazy because, as per the arrangement, that’s exactly what he’s here for.
“It’s good to see you,” you say, entering your kitchen with him close on your tail.
“Yeah, you too.” He genuinely means it. It’s like things fall into place when he’s around you.
“How’s Sam?”
“He’s good,” Dean explains, placing the grocery bags on the countertop. “He’s taken Eileen away for a couple days.”
“Good for them.”
You unpack the groceries and take a beer from the fridge; as always, it's his favorite brand. Though he never warns you of his pending arrival there is always a supply cooling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks in the cupboards.
He takes the open bottle from you, leaning in to deliver another kiss, but you turn to grab more groceries, and he realizes it's a not-so-stealthy way to give him your cheek.
It seems to be the day of revelations because he’s super aware of how easily you flow around each other in the small kitchen. Dean plates up the burgers, grabbing another beer for you from the fridge, and he’s surprised to see that it’s the only one left. That, coupled with the kiss avoidance, gives him pause. Something’s wrong.
You sit at the table and take a large gulp of the beer. “You okay?” he asks once you’ve swallowed the beer and the nervousness you're exuding. “You seem a little…off.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, then inhale deeply before adding, “Actually, no, I’m not. We need to talk. And I hate how cliche that sounds, but I don’t know how else to bring it up, and I don’t want to get all emotional on you, but I need to tell you something.”
He feels the panic fizz in his gut. You can’t be pregnant. He's seen you take birth control, and he uses protection every time. So it can only be one thing …you're about to ruin everything.
You're going to utter those three words, and it's going to be the death blow to all the good stuff between you.
He takes a swig of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Please don’t,” he begs, looking you dead square in the eyes. “What we’ve got going on is good, we’re good…”
“Dean, I …” you try, but he holds a hand up to cut you off.
“Don’t say it.” he pushes his chair back and rubs his hands on his thighs, palms suddenly sweaty. “I like what we have. It works, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to it or that I don’t miss you. But I just got back a little peace of mind and…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “caring about someone…” he shakes his head, reaching to wrap his hand around his beer bottle. “...Loving me, even with Chuck gone, it doesn’t make it any less of a death sentence. So please don’t say it.”
You reach across the table for his hand, clenched around his beer, but he’s quick to pull back. “Dean,” you choke out, the remorse you feel slipping from your eyes in a single tear. “I’ve met someone.”
He stares at you, mouth agape, not sure that he heard you correctly.
“It’s still new,” you continue, rushing to explain as your tears spill. “But it’s going somewhere. Somewhere great, and I don’t want to mess it up.”
Of course, you haven’t been sitting at home waiting for his sporadic visits. You’ve been out living your life as you should be. The possibility of meeting someone else, someone you could say those three words to, and it be a life sentence and not a death sentence, had occurred to him more than once. It poked at him like a swarming gnat, knowing you deserved to find someone better than him, but selfishly, he swatted at it until it went away.
He’s holding his breath and will get light-headed soon if he doesn’t find the ability to breathe again.
“Dean,” you coax, “say something.”
He feels as if you’d blindsided him, come out of the left field, and taken his legs out from under him. Now he’s on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and waiting for the feeling in his limbs to return.
Abruptly he stands. He sees the panic in your eyes and knows what’s coming. As you plead, “Don’t leave,” he says, “I gotta go.”
He strides quickly toward the door. You call his name as he goes, but he doesn’t stop.
He rushes out your front door, leaves it open, and as he reaches Baby, he has a singular moment of wondering what will hurt the least - holding on or letting go.
“Dean, please,” you call from the door.
He slides behind the wheel, deciding to let go.
Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.
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/ @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373
Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
#jacklesversebingo23#dean winchester#spn#supernatural#dean winchester x reader#reader insert#female reader#dean winchester angst#spn fanfic#angst#spn fanfiction#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fandom#dean winchester x you#you x dean winchester
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Across Every Universe
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: fluff
Request by anon: Hey Jordan, can i request something where Dean Winchester always have a crush on the reader but never said something to her until one day Sam and Dean are transported (based on the episode French Mistake) and Dean actor Jensen and is married to the reader of the universe and she pass the whole day giving Dean hug and kisses because for everyone is Jensen. When Dean and Sam came back to their universe him and the reader start dating? Fluff
Summary: Sam and Dean are taken back to the same place where Dean is known as Jensen Ackles and Sam as Jared Padalecki. This little trip makes Dean realize his feelings for you.
Square Filled: "god, if only you knew what you did to me" (2023) for @spnaubingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
No matter the position you’re in, you’re not comfortable. It doesn’t matter if you lie down on your side, your back, or your stomach. Not to mention the heater isn’t working in the Bunker so it’s very cold. You have three blankets over you while wearing long sleeves and pajama pants. The broken heater doesn’t help your running cold either. You’re not sure where you caught it from but you’ve been trying to stay away from the brothers to not get them sick.
That doesn’t keep Dean away, though.
He’s a complete sweetheart to you since he always brings you soup, makes sure you’re comfortable, and spends time with you even if you tell him not to go near you. You don’t know what you’d do without Dean in your life.
Speaking of, he knocks on your door and enters wearing his usual hunting attire.
“Going on a hunt?” you ask and sit up slightly.
“Yeah. I wish I could stay here and take care of you.”
“Other people need you,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to stay in bed, watch movies, and make some soup later. Did you fix the heater, yet?”
“I have someone coming in a few days. He’s also on a hunt.”
“Right, no non-hunters here,” you chuckle.
“I’ll call you later and check up on you, okay?”
“My hero.”
You cuddle with your blankets more and Dean leaves your room with a slight blush on his cheeks. Before he closes the door, he looks back at you in thought. God, if only you knew what you did to me.
He closes your door and meets his brother in the library. As soon as they are packed and ready to go, they start the long drive to the next state over. When Dean gets onto the highway, Sam turns to Dean with a knowing smile.
“So, did you tell her how you feel?”
“Stay out of it, Sammy,” Dean rolls his eyes.
“How long have you had a thing for her? Years? When are you going to tell her how you feel?”
“I mean it, Sam. Stay out of it. I can handle it on my own.”
“Apparently not, or else she’d be yours.”
Dean punches his brother not gently in the arm and Sam laughs. Dean kept the music high so he could avoid talking about his feelings for you. They get to the town that has its residents sacrificing themselves in the name of God. If anything, it warrants some kind of visit from the Winchesters.
The town looks like a normal town with normal people just trying to live their normal lives. They have no suspicions that something is happening but they only just arrived. They get there late at night so they will have to do their work tomorrow morning. Dean takes out his phone when his brother goes into the bathroom to shower and calls you.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“I’m doing alright but not any better.”
“Did you take your medicine?”
“Yes, I did.” He can hear the smile in your voice and that makes him smile. “And I ate my soup and drank water.”
“Don’t forget to tell her goodnight,” Sam says loudly from the bathroom.
Dean grabs a pillow and chucks it at his brother. “Go take a shower. You stink.”
“Goodnight, Dean,” you chuckle, having heard Sam.
“Night sweetheart.” He hangs up and turns to his brother with a scowl. “I hate you.”
Sam and Dean actually get more than four hours of sleep that night but when Dean wakes up, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. The motel is gone, the shutty beds and blankets are gone, and the peeling wallpaper is gone. What replaces it is a nice trailer, a comfortable bed, a big aquarium, and other nice shit that Dean has never had.
“Sammy?” he calls out. He gets up and leaves the small trailer only to run into Sam. “What the hell is going on? Where are we?”
“I don’t know.” Sam looks around and spots a name on the side of the trailer that’s behind Dean. “Oh, no. Look.”
Dean turns and sees the name ‘Jensen Ackles’ on the side. He turns back around and sees ‘Jared Padalecki’ on the trailer opposite his.
“You’ve got to be kidding me? We’re back in actor land? What happened last time?”
“Gabriel sent us here to avoid Raphael and his minions. I have no idea how we ended up here.”
“I bet it has something to do with the fact that people were sacrificing themselves in the name of God. My guess is that angels are involved.”
“There you two are.” Sam and Dean turn to see Castiel--Misha--walking toward them. “They’re looking for you two.”
“Yeah, we’re coming.”
If Sam and Dean didn’t do a good job trying to act last time, then they certainly aren’t going to do a good job now. It’s funny in hindsight but it makes for a very long day of filming. After the twentieth time messing up, Dean is ready to get the hell out of there to figure out how to get back to his world.
He looks to the right and sees you at the snack bar. He immediately calls for a time-out and leaves the set.
“Time out?” the director frowns and looks at him. “Everyone, take ten!”
“Y/N?”
“Come here, you have to try this. Gen made it,” you grin at Dean. You take a scoopful of food and present it to him. He opens his mouth and accepts the food, pleasantly surprised by the taste. “Oh, you have something on your mouth.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb and lick the food off. Dean is so confused about your behavior but doesn’t have time to figure it out. Your phone rings and you check who is messaging you. “I gotta go. Gen is here.”
You lean up and kiss him quickly before walking off. Dean can’t move after that quick kiss. You did it so casually like you’ve done it a thousand times. He is forced to go back to acting but he can’t do a good job because all he’s thinking about is your lips on his.
They aren’t getting enough filming done so the director calls it for the rest of the day. Sam and Dean convene outside to make it look like they’re busy so no one else talks to them.
“She kissed me, dude.”
“What?”
“Y/N or the woman who she’s supposed to be. She kissed me like we’re together or something.”
“Look, I’m glad you’re going through the five stages of teenage excitement but can we focus here? How are we going to get out of here?”
Dean looks around and spots you entering his trailer.
“Eh, you’ll figure it out. I’ll be back.”
Dean leaves to his trailer and Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance.
“Dean!” he hisses but receives no answer.
Dean enters his counterpart’s trailer and sees you where the bed is. You’re grabbing some night clothes out of the drawers since you’re not going to be leaving the trailer for the rest of the night.
“Hey, I talked to Gen about the cabin and she got it all set up for us this weekend. I’m so excited to spend some time away from all this for two days.”
“Are we dating?” The comment makes you laugh. “What?”
“Are you okay?” He looks kind of nervous so you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but I do know how to make you feel better.”
“How?” he whispers.
You run your hands down his chest and take his hands. You take him to the bed and toss your night clothes onto a nearby chair. You fall onto the bed while pulling him so he lands on top of you but he stops himself with his hands so he doesn’t completely crush you.
You pull him down to kiss you and that’s enough to bring Dean into the delusion that you’re Y/N and you’re his. Your lips are softer than what he thought and your body fits so perfectly against his. He slips his tongue into your mouth to get familiar with you. You tug on his hair to get some traction so he pulls away from your mouth and kisses down your neck.
Your neck has always been a sensitive spot for you and he really knows how to work you up. He licks up and down your neck before latching onto the side of it. You gasp, tilt your head back, and moan something that brings Dean back down to reality.
“Jensen.” You’re not his. You’re not you. You’re Jensen’s. You’re not supposed to be with him. He pulls away and pants above you. “What’s wrong?”
“Can we just lay here instead?”
“Yeah, of course. Let me get changed.”
You slip out from underneath him and grab the pajamas you set aside earlier. You strip down naked and Dean has a hard time not looking at you. He can’t help but think you’re a complete stranger. The pajamas you’re wearing are revealing but he feels better at looking at you with clothes on. You climb into bed with him and cuddle into his side, and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your head.
“How did I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“Tell me the story of how we met.” You look at him in confusion. “I want to hear it from you.”
“Okay, I got tickets to a red carpet event that my ex-friend invited me to. We were going to see the movie My Bloody Valentine because we thought it was going to be the next big movie. The entire cast was there, including you, meeting fans and taking pictures with them. When we locked eyes, it was like something was pulling you to me.
“You came over to me, complimented me on my dress, signed my poster with your number on it which I still have, and the rest is history. I never got together with you because you were a big celebrity. You were genuine, kind, funny, charming, and very sexy. It was hard not to fall in love with you.”
Dean notices the big ring on your finger and puts the pieces together.
“We’re married?”
“Yes, we are,” you laugh. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just… really happy.”
You lean over and kiss him. The next morning, Dean leaves his trailer before you get up. He doesn’t want to wake you even though he wants to. He finds Sam outside his own trailer with a book in his hands.
“Hey,” Dean sighs.
“I might have found a way out of here, no thanks to you.”
“What if we didn’t leave?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“The love of my life is my wife here.”
“That’s not your wife, Dean. She’s Jensen’s wife. She thinks you’re him. Why would you take that away from him? You have a girl waiting for you at home, a girl with whom you’re too scared to do anything about. Don’t take her away from him because you want what they have.”
Dean knows he’s right. He can’t stay here. He’s using this world as an escape from his own.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighs. “What do you have?”
“I found this book in the prop section. This might be a TV show but it does have some useful books to make it look real. There’s a ritual we can do.”
And a ritual it is. Once they get the stuff needed and perform it, they are brought back to the town they arrived in a couple of days ago. In order to properly tackle this town, they’re going to need some angelic help. Maybe Castiel can meet them back at the Bunker and figure something out then.
The first thing Dean does when he gets home is go looking for you. You’re still stuck in bed watching your favorite movies on Disney+. You pause your movie when your bedroom door opens.
“Hey, how was the hunt?” Dean doesn’t say anything as he kicks off his shoes. He climbs into bed with you and pulls you close to him. “Dean?”
“I love you,” he blurts. “I should have told you this years ago but I can’t seem to think straight when I’m with you. You make everything better for me, and you’re a better hunter than I ever was. God, I love you so much.”
“I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick,” you smile.
“I don’t care,” he whispers and kisses you.
This is where he belongs. Right next to you.
x
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#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchesterfluff#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fiction#dean winchester fan fiction#dean winchester fan fic#supernatural#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fluff#spn#spn fic#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#spn fluff
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An American Nightmare | Dean Winchester x gn!reader
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ 12. "I don't know who he is, but he's burned and he wears a weird hat and a red and green sweater, really dirty. And he uses these knives, like giant fingernails..."
And
6. "Burn this place to the ground
With dean please ❞
: ̗̀➛ Dean gets a call from someone he wants to keep safe, but what he finds is a nothing short of pure fear and the knowledge that sometimes, he can't keep everybody safe - even those he cares about most.
trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ child death mention, burning alive, murder, swearing
↳ word count: 1000
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
Dean didn’t want Sam or Castiel to know about a particular case, so instead of letting them know where he was or who he was with, he left without a trace; he only took his usual supplies, and didn’t dare to use his phone or any of the cards that were in his wallet.
It was too sensitive, nobody could know.
In a sleepy little suburban town, there was a particular street; the air seemed to be as still as the aftermath of a scream, and everything seemed to hold a thick stench of singed flesh and the firm taste of metal. It was all too quiet; usually in a neighbourhood like that, Dean would’ve expected to see people walking their dogs or hanging around the local park - but no one was around.
The street was empty and dull and… and eerie.
Even when he rapped on the door that he had seen a thousand times before, something was deeply wrong.
Deeply, deeply fucking wrong.
Time seemed almost too slowed down, and it seemed as if something was blocking all good memories and all signs of anything normal going on.
He tensed up, immediately picking up on the constant chill throughout the street; even when you answered the door and allowed him in, he still felt the sharp chill, and frowned.
“Everything alright?”
You shook your head, gesturing for him to sit down at the breakfast bar as you cleared your throat. “Shit has officially hit the fan, and I - I didn’t know who the fuck else to turn to.”
Dean reached out his hand, letting you hold onto it tightly as he ran his thumb across your knuckles gently. “Well, I’m here, so you can talk - and before you ask, no one else knows I’m here.”
You nodded, clearly shaken up judging by the shake of your hands and your jitteriness. The sudden switch between flinching and heavy breathing; constantly looking around as if something was going to jump out at you at any moment.
“It all started a few weeks ago,” you explained, stuttering your way through each word as if it was terrifying to even speak of, “a few of the parents around town… they… they found out about a guy who worked at the school…”
“Shit.”
“A few kids, they, they went missing,” hot tears were already streaming down your face. “And we… we found out he’d… he’d… Dean, I’ve seen death before but never… never like that, and, and then he got- he got let off on a, some stupid technicality…”
Dean’s face fell, rage starting to boil in his eyes. “Where is he?”
“Dead,” you whispered. “The parents and I, we… we hunted him down… and we went to the boiler room and we… we all agreed we’d burn this place to the ground so we… we did and, and, and he was inside and-”
“Slow down,” Dean said gently, squeezing your hand a little to let you know that you didn’t have to worry so much. “It’s okay.”
You sucked in a harsh breath, hardly even able to breathe as you cleared your throat. “Dean we killed him but he… he came back, and I don’t know how…”
He sat back a little, thinking about what it could have been; from the sounds of it, it was a vengeful ghost, although he couldn’t be certain without making sure that there were no objects tied to the spirit first.
“Did anyone take anything from the scene?” He asked eventually.
You shrugged, shaking your head. “I, I don’t think so I, I mean - who could’ve? Who, who would want something like that fucking lying around?”
Dean pursed his lips for a second. “You’d be surprised… do you think you could talk to the parents of the kids for me? See if you can find anything? They’d be more willing to talk to you than they would me.”
You nodded, still shaking and trembling. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, no, erm… erm, yeah… but…”
“But?”
“But he came to see me last night,” you whispered, voice almost hoarse. “I, I was fast sleep, but, but… fuck… I don’t know who he is, but he’s burned and he wears a weird hat and a red and green sweater, really dirty. And he uses these knives, like giant fingernails…”
“You killed a guy you don’t even know?” Dean questioned.
You nodded. “When people tell you this guy’s killing kids… and you’re asked to help… you don’t ask questions…”
He nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll do some digging, see if I can find out who he was.”
“Not now!” You all but yelped, fear ablaze in your eyes as you frantically shook your head. “Please… please, I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be alone if he comes back…”
Dean nodded slowly. “Sure. First thing tomorrow, then.”
“Thank you,” you breathed out. “Really, Dean, I, I don’t know how to-”
“So far, I’ve managed to keep you safe,” he started, “and well the fuck away from hunting. You don’t need to thank me - it’s my job. Saving people, hunting things… just a bonus I get to sleep in the same bed as you for once.”
You wanted to laugh along with him, you really did, but you couldn’t find it in yourself; still getting flashes of that… that monster in your head. His sickly smile as he taunted you about the children, the fucking nursery rhyme stuck in your head.
One two, Freddy’s coming for you.
Three four, better lock your door.
Five six, grab your crucifix.
Seven eight, gonna stay up late.
Nine ten, never sleep again.
You shuddered, gripping Dean’s hand a little tighter as you swallowed thickly. “I love you.”
“I know,” he said softly. “I won’t leave until I know you’re safe again, don’t worry. I promise. I’ll get to the bottom of it, and I’ll make sure he never fucking comes back - not for you, for anybody. I’ll make sure of it, I promise. I promise you, okay?”
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#mlem writes#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x yn#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester oneshot#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fic#dean winchester#supernatural x reader#supernatural x you#supernatural x y/n#supernatural x yn#supernatural imagine#supernatural oneshot#supernatural one shot#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fic#supernatural#spn x reader#spn x you#spn x y/n#spn x yn#spn oneshot#spn one shot#spn imagine
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Cute As A Button (Supernatural One-Shot)
Dean Winchester x AFAB!GN!Reader 18+ / requests are open
Summary: smut prompt based on the word "button."
Fic type: smut
SPN: @wereallbrokenangels (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"Look atcha, gorgeous. Cute as a button, you are," Dean says, giving your clit a little tap as his eyes flicked up to meet with your own from between your legs.
You broke the connection, the intimacy making you just a touch flushed. Dean tutted, those ever-smirking lips of his curling up at the sides. Warm hands trailed up your thighs, thumbs hooking under your ass so he can spread your cunt wide for his viewing pleasure.
"Yep," Dean groaned, practically salivating at the sight of you. "Criminal. Absolutely criminal to have a pussy this pretty."
Your cheeks flushed darker, your thighs fighting the urge to close around his hands. You know if you did that that he'd end up punishing you by not letting you cum or slapping your pussy condescendingly.
"You gonna arrest me, officer?" You asked, trailing your fingers down your ribs sensually. If Dean's answering tortured moan was anything to go by, he wasn't opposed to that idea.
"Don't tempt me," he replied, chewing on the corner of his lip as filthy thoughts and images plagued his mind. "My little criminal. God, that's hot."
"You're not so bad yourself, you know," you replied cheekily, trying to shift some of the attention from yourself. Dean gave you a wink and at the same time brushed his tongue over your clit. You fought the urge to grind up against his face.
"Naw, darlin', are you getting sweet on me, huh?" He asked, eyes raking down your form with so much heat they practically scorched your flesh with liquid sin from collarbone to naval. One charmed smile and you were a puddle on the floor.
"You idiot, I've always been sweet on you," you replied breathily as his right hand slid from your outer thighs down to play at your labia. The teasing touches kept you hovering on that edge, knowing there would be pleasure if he only moved his fingers a little ways above or a little ways left. "Stop teasing me, Dean."
"Me? Sorry sweetheart, never-" he said, though he also sunk two fingers inside you and curved them just a little to hook right into that spot that made you turn to mush for him, so, technically you still got what you wanted.
"Y-yeah," you replied, muscles in your thighs twitching. "Sounds about right. My mistake."
Dean snorted with laughter, curling his fingers to rub against your insides. You squirmed a little which earned you another tut and the sight of Dean crawling just a little further up so he could plant his lips over your clit and lave his tongue over it.
Your head dropped back onto the pillows behind you, legs widening to fit as much of Dean's lithe body between them as you could. There really was nothing quite like the feel of someone's body heat rubbing up against you while they worshipped at the altar of your body.
Dean's fingers started to move in tandem with his tongue, slowly at first, building in pace to create a heady fog of ecstasy that expanded from your pelvis and slowly started creeping up your spine, causing it to bow and bend as the pleasure rolled over you.
"O-oh, fuck, Dean- right there-" you mumbled incoherently as his fingers massaged into one of those spots that made you lose your mind when it was stimulated just right.
Then he was sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking back and forth over it as his fingers shot like pistons inside your cunt. You hadn't thought your back could bow any further, and yet here you were, afraid that your spine might snap if he prays at your altar any harder.
The onslaught of stimulation proves too much, and all it takes is for those molten eyes to make contact with yours once and you're coming undone for him.
Mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm rips through your body, you reach blindly for something to hold onto- coming to rest on Dean's hair. He groans against your cunt but doesn't let up, and your legs start to quiver uncontrollably.
Your voice returns and your breathless, silent scream turns into a wild groan. You leave him where he is for just another few moments, lapping up the last few rolls of pleasure that you can handle before you use your grip on his hair to pull his mouth off your clit.
"Hey," he protested somewhat breathlessly, lips puffy and chin soaked. "I wasn't done."
His fingers slow, letting you ride out the pleasure and slowly come to a stop. You can feel your cunt twitching around his fingers, spasming as your body releases those endorphins that make you feel so goddamn good after a hard fuck.
"Yeah, I think you were," you panted, loosening your grip on his hair. Dean withdrew his fingers, twisting them so he could see your slick painting them.
Wiping them on his boxers, he crawled up your body. He sunk down on top you, the warmth of his skin spreading across your own. Dean leaned up, muscled arms caging you in.
"Yeah," he said, a fine sheen of sweat covering his forehead. "Definitely cute as a button."
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester#sam winchester#supernatural#spn#supernatural fic#supernatural fluff#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#dean x reader#jensen ackles#supernatural smut#dean winchester smut#supernatural x reader
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Celebrating
Dean Winchester x F!Reader
hi, heres what i promised to the dean girls! i don't know what to say, this is long and i don't know if the smut is good enough, might edit later, also, dean in this red jacket is my favorite
Summary: It had been a while since you got some and at night of celebrating a successful hunt you expected to finally, after a long time, get laid
Warnings: SMUT, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up), finger sucking, jealousy (? if you squint), oral f. recieving, fingering, dean is so in love ohmygod, english is not my first language, not proof read (if i forgot anything let me know)
Read it on AO3
WC: 4.7k
You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here
enjoy!
It was difficult for you to find anyone willing to spend the night with you in the current settings of your life, having to lie about what you do, who you are…Basically create a whole new personality just to be able to bring someone to your motel room. In that sense, it was frustrating, both sexually and mentally to be put in this scenery but, either way, saving lives was more important than getting laid, even if you were thoroughly stressed beyond comparison by your inability to find a guy (or girl).
You, Sam and Dean had gone to California for what you discovered, after great questioning and piles of research, was a simple salt ‘n burn of a poor ghost of a roadkill and was haunting that particular highway and crashing trucks of drivers who were mildly intoxicated behind the wheel.
After finding out where the bones were buried you went to the cemetery and started digging up the grave. Shovel after shovel of dirt fell behind you while you panted in exhaustion until you hit something hard at the bottom of the hole you dug up.
You harshly broke the wooden casket, revealing the remains of the ghost and a putrid smell hit your nose like everytime it happened when you had a salt ‘n burn. You scrunched up your nose and threw the shovel on the ground beside you, reaching with a hand towards Dean for him to help you get out of the hole.
“There it is.” You say proudly as you stare down at the decomposed body being covered with salt by Sam while Dean reaches for the alcohol in the bag and the lighter in his pocket.
You three watch as the bones light up in an orange fire, burning away what’s tying the poor soul to this world, the heat radiating in your skin. After some time you bump your shoulder with Dean’s, making him look at you.
“Let’s go, I need a shower so we can go out and celebrate” You say with a grin as you turn back to walk towards the Impala and Dean follows suit along with Sam, the fire slowly extinguishing itself behind you.
You opened the door to the backseat, the creaking of the hinges echoing through the night, getting inside and closing the door with a thud. Dean and Sam sat in their designed seats at the driver and shotgun, respectively, and you drove into the night towards the motel.
“I saw a bar not far from where we are staying” Dean said and you hummed and Sam nodded. “You two might have to come back alone, you know” He suggested with a smirk and Sam scrunched his nose and let out an amused huff and you chuckled dryly, a weird nausea bubbling in your stomach.
Deep down you wished Dean could see you the way he sees the bartenders and strippers in bars or clubs you three often go to. You didn’t know if he thought you were too rough, too scarred, both mentally and physically. You usually dressed up nice, using makeup from time to time when you noticed your eyebags were getting darker or when your lips looked too pale. You also tried your best with clothing, well, the best someone could do when you were a hunter. Either way, you never looked like those girls, they were absolutely stunning, even for you, and you couldn’t compete with them.
You shook your head. You were probably thinking these things because it had been some time since you last got laid. Tonight was your night, you were feeling it, you were taking someone to your room.
Dean turned the car off after parking and you got out, going to the trunk to get your bag.
“You guys meet me in my room? I’ll most likely take longer to get ready” You said with a grin and the boys nodded. You took out the keys to your room and got in, throwing your bag over your bed and going to another bag you had in your room, where you kept your “fancy” clothes and makeup.
You took out a beautiful black dress with long sleeves that ended in your mid thighs. It was a dress you thrifted when you went on a hunt alone a while ago and never had the opportunity to use it. When you tried it on, though, it hugged your curves in all the right places, made your body look amazing and you felt as confident as one could feel.
You left the dress over the bed and rushed to the bathroom to take a shower, smiling to yourself. You took your time, washed your hair thoroughly and finished it off in the usual way. In the hunting life you often get your hair very dirty almost everyday with blood, dirt, ectoplasm…you name it. So, keeping it lucious and healthy was a process that you grew fond of doing to recollect some of that normalcy that hunting didn’t give you.
You came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your body and picked up an underwear set that was, well, sensual to say the least and dropped the towel to the ground to put it on, the dress going over it, careful not to mess up your hair in the process.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and whistled in surprise at your own appearance, you looked good. Time for makeup.
You didn’t do much, a simple concealer, contour and blush with mascara and a smokey eye was enough to drop any man to the ground.
You decided to put shoes on because, first, if you really had to walk back, heels weren’t helpful, second, you didn’t have your heels with you at the moment.
While you were finishing up you heard a knock on your door. You opened it and there they were, Sam and Dean, practically on the same looks, just cleaner, waiting for you.
They both eyed you up and down, drinking your appearance in, Dean dropping his jaw slightly as he stared at your exposed thighs. Sam let out an impressed sigh and cleared his throat.
“Wow Y/N you look…amazing” He said and you smiled, looking down, feeling a tad bit embarrassed.
“Yeah…” Dean agrees, half on earth, half in his head trying to get rid of the thoughts of those beautiful legs wrapped around his neck while his nose deep into your–
“Well, thank you, I hope it isn’t too much.” You said.
“No, n–no, ha, it’s not, at all,” Dean said to quickly, finally grasping the courage to look into your eyes, the beautiful colors drowning him and your shy smile making him want to smash his lips to yours that moment. He cleared his throat. “Shall we go?” He offered.
“Yes, let me just get my phone” You said and went inside for a couple seconds, coming out with it and your wallet. “C’mon!”
You passed through them and went towards the car. Sam elbowed Dean to make him turn to him.
“You are staring at her like she’s a cheeseburger and you haven’t eaten in days, man” Sam teased and Dean frowned at him “You were practically drooling”
“I–I was not, okay? She just looks…pretty, that's all” Dean said, ignoring Sam’s ‘Yeah, right’ and going to the driver's seat in the Impala, you already sat down in the backseat. After Sam got in you all went to the bar and you felt particularly excited this time.
“Okay, every single one who tried to flirt with me was a disaster” You said, coming back to the table with a sigh, Sam and Dean almost laughing at you as you handed them their beers. “Seriously, who do I have to kill to get laid in this shit”
You took a swig of your beer and looked around once more, trying to find a decent man for you to take back tonight when you eyed a handsome black haired guy a few feet away. You smiled to yourself and got up from your seat.
When you walked up to him you didn’t see it but Dean was fuming with jealousy, this feeling bubbling up inside him that made his fists unconsciously clench over the table. He tried flirting with other women that night, chatting them up like he usually did but it all went down the drain the moment his eyes darted to you again, a guy practically snuggling up to you while you gently pushed him away and refused his advances, either not finding him attractive or just not feeling a spark.
He should be the one you looked at, he knew everything about you, how you liked your coffee, your favorite drinks, the faint lines that would appear around your lips when you smiled, the way your eyes lit up when you were talking about something you enjoyed. He knows you.
Sam noticed his brother’s demeanor and called out to him to snap him out of his jealous haze. Dean turned his eyes to Sam and he had this stupid smirk on his face, sipping the beer once again to hide his amused smile.
“What?” Dean snapped, his hand wrapping around the bottle, the cool glass doing nothing to ease his temper down, his knee going up and down under the table with nervousness.
“Nothin’” Sam answered and finished his beer, getting up and leaving a couple dollars, enough to pay for the beers he drank. “I’m going back, y’know, tired. Tell Y/N”
Dean nodded, he didn’t know if Sam meant for him to tell you that Sam went back or that you’ve been in his dreams for months now, not all of them cute and fluffy, some made him wake up with a hard-on, sweating and longing for you.
He looked in your direction and you were coming back with an annoyed face, arms crossed in front of you, feet stomping the ground. Dean made a confused face and when you got back to the table you sat down on the chair with a scoff, his eyes never leaving you.
“He has a girlfriend” You murmured and then realized you were one man short “Where’s Sam?”
“He called in, tired” Dean said and you hummed. He had a weird look on his face, something you couldn’t make out what was. You sighed and looked down.
“I think we should go too, this night was disappointing to me” You breathed out a laugh “I’m impressed you didn’t find anyone, I saw some girls eyeing you”
“Nah, I’m fine,” He said and finished his beer. You widened your eyes at him but didn’t say anything, just nodding hesitantly in shock. “Let 's go?”
He said getting up and you mirrored him, pulling your dress down a bit, Dean’s eyes on you all the time. He bit his lower lip and mentally told himself to cool it.
As you two walked towards the car you couldn’t help but look at him up and down, silently appreciating his figure. His strong jawline, his green eyes now dark thanks to the night, his slightly crooked nose that made him look unique.
When you got into the car, in silence, you drove back to the motel and you felt an unmistakable tension in the air and you were worried you might’ve done something to upset the man. You started to fidget with your fingers over your lap, the street lights going past the car through the window as Dean sped up through the pavement.
His hands gripped the wheel, holding back the urge to pounce on you right there and then. When he parked the car and reached for the door handle you held his wrist.
“Wait! Dean, is something the matter?” You asked, big eyes looking into his as he looked at you, noticing the trouble behind those beautiful orbs. He wanted to punch himself in the gut for making you feel bad. “What happened?”
“Nothing it’s just…” He trailed off and looked at your hand wrapping his wrist. His other hand enveloped over it and your skin flared up with goosebumps. He felt warm, rough, his strong grip comforting. You took your hand away from his wrist, allowing his hand to wrap over your and pull you into him.
You yelped and was about to question him when you felt his plump lips against yours, his other hand hesitantly holding your cheek and you melted. It took you a while to process what was happening. Dean Winchester is kissing you. Though, when you did, your free hand went to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss.
Everything felt like a fever dream and you were afraid that if you pulled away you’d wake up and Dean would be gone. His lips had a taste of beer lingering from the night out, they were full and smooth. You felt like you were drowning in this feeling until Dean pulled away, seeking a breath of air.
You looked between his eyes, your breaths molding into each other from the closeness. You moved the hand he was holding up his chest, to his shoulder, up to his cheek, his eyes closing and his head snuggling against your hand, his fingers fidgeting around your wrist.
He opened his eyes, a thousand feelings swimming behind his green orbs as you both communicate in silence, an agreement, a revelation. You smiled and pulled him in again, this time with no hesitation. His hand went down your arm slowly, your skin warming up where his hand passed by, and settled by your waist, pulling you closer. His tongue teased your bottom lip and you eagerly opened your mouth with a low moan.
At that, he smirked into the kiss and pulled you over his lap, the steering wheel digging into your back, his hands both placed at your hips as you unconsciously rocked against him. He let go of your mouth again and you stared down at him.
“I wanted to do this so bad” He whispered and you smiled, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck mindlessly. He placed a loving kiss at your jaw and pulled away again while you hummed, content.
When you looked at his face again there was a frown and he was avoiding your eyes. You grabbed both his cheeks and made him look at you.
“What was that thought, hm?” You ask lightly as to not push him away. You didn’t want this to end, not ever. He seemed nervous.
“What does this mean to you?” He asked and you furrowed your eyebrows. “To me, Y/N,” he continued, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs “you’re everything, I mean, you– you’re perfect. You’ve seen everything I’ve done and never let me down, you’re beautiful and so much more. If to you I’m just a way to get off then–”
You cut him off with a peck on his lips.
“Stop. Right there.” You started, looking deep into his eyes. “Dean I– you are everything I’ve ever wanted, needed. You mean more to me than words can describe, you’re not just a one night stand, you’re my dream”
When you finished, he didn’t waste a second to wrap a hand behind your neck and steal your lips again, his mouth addicting. There was so much passion, feeling and desire pumping through your veins.
Your dress was high on your thighs and one of his hands squeezed the flesh hungrily, making you groan in his mouth. He went further with his hand, his thumb caressing over your covered sex and you opened your mouth in a whimper.
Dean attacked your neck with kisses and hickeys, his teeth leaving a pattern over your skin as his hand ghosts over where you need him the most.
“Dean…” You say, a beg behind your words and he pulls away, both his hand and his mouth, making you shiver from the lack of contact and the cool feeling his saliva left behind over your neck.
“Sweetheart, as much as I’d like to have you in the car,” He said, his voice rough and deeper with lust, his pupils wide as he opened the door, a cool breeze coming in that did little to nothing to cool your skin off. “you deserve a bed, another time” He finished, leaving an open mouthed kiss under your ear.
Another time. You nodded, words failing you as you stepped out of the car, adjusting your dress and hair the best you could to seem decent. Dean stood up behind you and let a hand linger on your waist, eager to touch you at all times and all ways.
You both walked towards the door of your room, Dean’s fingers tightening on your skin the longer it took for you to get the door open. The moment you were able to open it, he pushed both of you in, turning you around and pinning you to the door inside, closing it with a loud noise behind your back and his lips were on your again, his hands roaming over every inch of your skin.
You yelped in shock but soon reciprocated the touches and kisses, your fingers wrapping around his jacket and pulling it off, his hands momentarily leaving you to drop it to the ground. When his hands came back he grabbed both your legs and lifted you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips for support, his fingers digging into your skin yet again.
Your hands pulled on his hair, your tongues battling in a messy kiss when you feel your body move to the bed, your body being gently placed over it.
Dean pulled away, standing up fully and you took him in with a bite of your lip. He unbuttoned his flannel, slowly and you lifted your dress over your hips, lifting them off the bed to help, revealing your panties and over your head to take it off completely and throwing the fabric away.
Dean’s breathing got heavier, the confine of his pants bothering him as he finally discards the flannel, torso naked to you. You drink his defined physique with hooded eyes and he smirks down at you, his head going close to the waistband of your panties, eyes never leaving yours as he leaves kisses from your hips to your stomach to the valley of your breasts until he came face to face with you again, a smile lingering in his lips making one of your own appear on yours.
Your hands grab at his cheeks and pull him in again as he holds you by your waist, pulling your near naked torso into his. His fingers ghost over every inch of new exposed skin as if he was memorizing every atom of your being like you were going to disappear.
Your hands start to explore over his chest, the strong muscles flexing against your palms, your nails scratching at his wide back and shoulders.
His hands travel behind your back to unclasp your bra and you let him, letting the undergarment go loose against your breasts and Dean takes it off. He drinks the view in, staring and you start to feel self-conscious and take your hands to cover yourself up. Dean catches onto that and kisses you again, one big hand grabbing at your right breast and you whimper in his mouth.
“I always knew you were beautiful” He whispers against your lips and pulls back to look at you again “But you are the most perfect thing I’ve ever laid eyes on”
This time you turned away from him with a stupid smile on your face.
“Says you” You say and turn to him again, your hands over his shoulders and moving towards his back “Your back is a perfect place for my nails to dig in” You whisper seductively on his ear and leave a hickey on his neck. He groans and lowers his head to wrap his mouth around one of your nipples, the warm feeling against the sensitive nub making you arch your back into him and your fingers to tangle in his hair.
“Dean, fuck–” You moan as he gently bites your nipple and moves to the other breast, his eyes looking at you from below and drinking in your noises.
One of his hands sneaked up your inner thigh and teased your clit over your panties and you shivered, a smirk on his lips against your breast. He slowly took your panties off, discarding them on the ground and now you were completely bare below him, vulnerable.
His middle finger pressed over your clit and you arched again.
“Dean, please…” You beg, your best attempt at puppy dog eyes looking down at him and he adds his ring finger, starting to do slow circles over the sensitive nub as he kisses up your neck, your noises of pleasure egging him on.
He lowers his fingers to your entrance and he slips both in with no restraint given your wetness, the feeling making you let out a moan and grab onto his shoulders as he hooks his fingers inside you, touching that special spot.
He smirks smugly and continues his ministrations, your pussy clenching and tightening around his fingers making him groan.
“You’re so wet” He mumbles “I wonder how you taste like” He gives your nose a peck, your mind too drowned in pleasure to respond to his words. He kisses down your body, his fingers never leaving you, until he's facing your cunt. He places both your legs over his shoulders, your thighs resting around his cheeks, the light stubble leaving a tingly feeling behind.
He leaves a lingering kiss over your clit and you buck your hips, looking for more friction. He teases a bit more, biting and sucking at your inner thighs, everywhere but where you needed his mouth to be. You took charge and grabbed at his hair, pulling his face closer and he complied.
“Oh, fuck!” You groan.
His tongue licked at your sex and your loud moans echoed through the walls, the warm muscle doing wonders against you and the mix of his fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge, your eyes fluttering close in bliss.
“Dean, God” You moan as he squeezes your thigh. All the ministrations send shivers down your spine, your core tightening inside you, that familiar rush of warmth spreading through you. Your thighs try to close, forgetting Dean’s in between and he hums against your cunt, the vibrations making you feel like you were in heaven. “I’m cumming”
“Cum for me princess” He mumbles and you let go with a chant of his name. The feeling washes over you, making you feel lighter for a couple seconds, Dean helping you ride out your orgasm. When the stimulation becomes too much and you whine and squirm away, he gets up from his knees, chin glistening in your juices. He took his fingers out, a grunt scaping your throat at the emptiness. It was a sinful sight.
He crawled over you again, his middle and index finger teasing at your bottom lip.
“Open up” He said, voice deep and demanding and you obeyed, opening your mouth and letting his fingers in. You lick your juices clean off his fingers, never breaking eye contact, humming and moaning against his digits as Dean bites his lips with force. Your hand travels down to unbuckle his belt and he takes his fingers away from your mouth to kiss you.
Once you got the belt open, Dean backed away, taking his shoes off and unzipping his pants. Meanwhile, you drank in his appearance. His hair was a mess, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin, his arms flexing as he lowered his pants along with his boxers. He was divine.
When he dropped the jeans his eyes drifted back to you, catching you staring and he smirks.
“See something you like?” He asks, closing the gap between you again, smashing your lips to his in yet another breathtaking kiss.
He completely lies you down on the mattress, his elbows supporting his weight over you as his cock bumps against your sensitive sex and you gasp, hand gripping the back of his neck.
“Fuck me” You say, bluntly and whiny but he gets the hint and aligns his member to your hole.
“Yes Ma’am” He says and starts to insert himself inside you, an immediate groan coming out of both your throats, his forehead dropping to the nape of your neck as his fingers dug into your hips, holding himself back to not slam into you at full force. You felt amazing around him, the warmth of your walls made him never want to go away.
“Oh my God” You moan as he slowly goes deeper, his cock throbbing inside you. Once he bottomed out you were breathing heavier than ever, pupils blown and nails teasing at his back. “Dean”
“I’m right here sweetheart” He reassured you and left kisses over your shoulder to distract you. You grinned at his sweetness and rolled your hips against his, a sign that he could move.
“Move, please, I want to feel you” You mumbled and he obliged, instant pleasure going through your body.
“God, Y/N” He moaned close to your ear as he went faster, your moans getting louder.
He smashed his hips against yours, eyeing the way it went in and out, being deliciously consumed by your cunt, glistening with your slick and cum. He stared at you, your fucked out state, the way you were a moaning, whimpering mess beneath him and he felt proud to be the reason you were like this.
You felt every inch ripping your insides, Dean’s hands roaming through your body as his lips left bite marks and kisses around your skin. His lips wrapped around your nipple and everything just added more to the pleasure when his tongue circled around your nipple.
“You’re so pretty” He groaned after pulling away from your breasts and felt that familiar feeling go through him as your pussy clenched tighter around his cock. He was close and he knew you were too. His hands traveled both down to your lower body, one pressed over the skin under your belly button and the other circled your clit messly.
When he pressed down over your lower belly you felt him impossibly deeper and grabbed at the sheets underneath you to ground yourself to reality.
“Jesus– Fuck Dean, please!” You moaned incoherently as that bubble inside you was about to pop “I’m gonna cum, baby, please” You moaned again and you knew he was close to, his hips stuttering and losing rhythm.
“Cum with me Y/N” He said and not even seconds later you unraveled beneath him, your high hitting you like a bus, a loud moan rippling through your throat and Dean pulled out, cumming over your stomach, his chest heaving with his breaths.
Dean forced himself to get up and get a wet towel to clean you up in the bathroom, coming back and gently wiping away the fluids. You were spent and at the same time as happy as you could ever be.
You adjusted yourself in the bed while you waited for Dean to come back from the bathroom after discarding the towel, his naked shadow visible thanks to the light inside. When he walked out he smiled at you and snuggled beside you, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping an arm around your waist.
You were both silent for a while until he spoke up.
“I love you so much” He said “And no, this is not post sex haze, I’ve loved you for so long” He admitted quietly above you and you felt your heart beating ten times faster at his words. You looked up at him and placed a gentle hand over his cheek to make him look down at you.
“I love you too, dumbass” You say with a chuckle and kiss him deeply again, pouring all the love you knew you felt towards him into the kiss.
A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo.
#supernatural#dean winchester#jensen ackles#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fic#dean winchester smut#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean x you#spn#supernatural fandom#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural imagine#supernatural smut#supernatural x reader#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x y/n
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What I'd Give
Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader
Summary: When Dean is gravely injured on a hunt, (Y/N) makes a deal to save him--a deal that might just cost her everything.
Warnings: canon violence, swearing, mentions of death/dying. SMUT, dom/sub vibes, choking kink, overstimulation, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)
You screamed helplessly as you watched your best friend and fellow hunter be thrown from the window across the room. You'd just managed to stab the demon you were fighting a mere second before you heard the breaking of glass.
You yanked the angel blade out of the demon's chest and ran straight towards the demon who'd just tossed your friend out the window. You stabbed the demon in the back, bringing an end to the fight.
You looked out the window and saw the horrific scene three stories down. Your heart clenched in your chest as you raced to the stairs, making it outside in record time.
"Dean!" you cried as you reached his broken body. "No, no, no, no..."
You were almost afraid to touch him--afraid to search for a pulse and not find one. You exhaled sharply and pulled yourself together, placing a firm hand against his neck. You could feel a very weak pulse beneath your fingertips and you knew he was in trouble.
The fall had certainly broken some bones and he likely had internal injuries of some kind. The glass from the window had sliced his skin in a million places, and you were worried he would have severe head trauma as well.
Normally, you would call out to Castiel and he would come running to save Dean, but this wasn't a normal day. Cas had been missing in action for weeks, and neither you nor the Winchesters knew where he was.
Dean's safety--his survival--depended solely on you. The two of you had been hunting alone, while Sam was out helping Garth on a different hunt. You'd hunted together countless times, but neither of you had ever been this seriously injured.
You knew he was dying--as surely as if there was a neon sign screaming "death!" above his head. You couldn't stand the thought of losing him, so you made a decision that would change your life.
"Anyone who's listening, I need your help," you called out. "Please...I will do anything...just save him."
You waited in silence for a few moments, hoping against hope someone would hear your call and take pity on you. You weren't exactly on good terms with most angels, but you couldn't help but hope at least one of them would care.
You heard the soft flap of wings that always signaled the arrival of an angel and you looked up hopefully. You inhaled sharply when your eyes met the glowing red eyes of the man who had come to rescue you--or should you say, archangel.
"Well hello, (Y/N). It's nice to see you again."
"Lucifer," you hissed lowly.
"In the flesh!"
"What are you doing here?"
"I heard your call," he said simply. "And well, let's be honest, no one else is coming to help you."
"Did you come here to gloat?"
"Of course not. Even I'm not cruel enough to find joy in the death of Dean Winchester."
"Then why did you come?"
"To save him, obviously."
Surprise lit up your face. Out of all the responses you'd expected, that hadn't been on the list. "Pardon?"
Lucifer smiled darkly. "For a small fee, of course."
"Ahh," you acknowledged. "That sounds more like it. What do you want?"
"Nothing too extravagant."
"Lucifer..." you growled.
"As you can see, this vessel isn't doing so well." He gestured to himself and you had to admit, he looked like absolute shit. "In fact, it's dying...which means I'm in need of a new one."
"Absolutely not," you said instantly. "He would never say yes to you."
Lucifer smirked. "I wasn't referring to him."
Your eyes widened. "I'm not an archangel vessel," you whispered.
"No, but you are a vessel. And I think you're strong enough to contain me long enough to find me a better one."
You swallowed thickly. There was no way you were going to agree to this...you knew what being an archangel's vessel would do to you and you weren't exactly interested in being strapped to a nuclear bomb.
"No," you said firmly.
"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "But just remember, Dean's death will be on your hands now."
You exhaled in defeat as you looked down at the man in your arms. You knew he was close to death--no hospital would be able to save him. Lucifer was your only option.
"Save him first," you whispered.
Lucifer smirked, knowing he'd won. "I would, (Y/N), but this vessel is simply too weak. I would need your body in order to save him."
You looked up into his dark eyes and considered his words. "I don't trust you."
"You would be a fool to trust me after all we've been through. However, I need you...and I need Dean alive and well to help me find an archangel vessel. Possessing you is a good motivator for him."
You clenched your jaw as you thought about your options. It took you mere moments to realize you didn't have any. You would rather die than allow Dean to...so your decision was made in an instant.
"Fine," you murmured softly. You looked up at the monster standing before you and exhaled slowly. "Yes," you breathed.
Lucifer wasted no time--immediately exiting his vessel and entering your body, taking over in an instant.
It was painful, feeling his energy within you, and you knew with absolute certainty you wouldn't be surviving this--no way in hell.
To your surprise, you were fully aware of everything happening around you. You could still see and hear--but you had no control over your body in any way.
Lucifer--you--reached out to Dean and touched him. Your palms began to glow and you watched the various wounds on his body heal quickly. His bright green eyes slowly blinked open and he looked up at you in surprise and confusion.
"What happened?" he groaned.
"You got tossed out a window," your voice said, though it was not you speaking.
Dean sat up and rubbed at his head. He looked down at himself, clearly surprised by his lack of serious injuries. "I fell three stories down..."
You nodded.
"How am I not dead?"
You felt your lips curl into a smile--a slightly cruel smile you knew was not your own. "You're welcome."
Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"
Unbeknownst to you, your eyes began to glow red, alerting Dean to the presence of someone else in your body--and there was only one creature you knew whose eyes glowed red.
"Lucifer?" Dean yelled angrily.
"The one and only," he replied.
"How the hell...why are you...where's (Y/N)?"
"Oh she's right here," he said with a smile, tapping the side of your head. "Watching and listening like a little creep."
"Well it is my head, you asshole," you mumbled.
"Doesn't mean it's not creepy," Lucifer's voice hissed inside your mind.
You didn't like the idea that Lucifer could hear your thoughts and speak to you like that...and it made you wonder what else he could see within your mind.
"Everything," he teased darkly.
"Fuck."
"Get the hell out of her body," Dean growled.
"Not a chance, buck-o. (Y/N) was kind enough to invite me in, so I think I'll stay a while."
Dean pulled an angel blade out of his back pocket and pointed it at you. You knew he would never use it if it meant killing you too. It was an idle threat and Lucifer knew it.
Lucifer simply laughed. "You're not going to use that, so put it away."
"Get out of her and I won't have to."
"Oh please, you won't kill her."
Dean's expression remained impassive, but you could see his resolve waning. You knew him too well to miss the small tells. Unfortunately, that meant Lucifer knew him just as well.
"Let's make this easy on ourselves," he began. "Everything (Y/N) knows, I know. Every memory, every thought, every feeling, everything. So put the damn blade down before I have to break your arm."
You could see the anger on Dean's face, but he lowered the blade and slipped it back inside his jacket. "Why the hell did she invite you in?"
"You were about 5 minutes from death and she couldn't save you."
"So what, she called out to you?" Dean asked in disbelief.
"She called out to everyone...I'm just the only one who responded." You felt your eyes glance around in slight concern. "Speaking of, we should probably get out of here, just in case."
Dean nodded and lead the way to the Impala, which was parked a short distance away. You got into the passenger seat like usual and you saw Dean tense up at your proximity. He clearly didn't like the idea of the Devil riding shotgun.
"So why did you heal me?"
"I need your help," Lucifer admitted.
"What makes you think I'd ever help you?"
"I knew you wouldn't, which is why I convinced (Y/N) to let me have her body for a little while."
"Convinced?"
"I may have told her a little white lie--that my old vessel was too weak for me to save you. She didn't exactly offer herself up, but she didn't fight very hard when she realized I was her only option."
"You slimy son of a bitch," you growled.
"I'm the devil, (Y/N). What did you expect?"
"You son of a bitch," Dean mumbled, echoing your sentiments. "What exactly do you want from me?"
"I need to find an actual archangel vessel. I'm getting tired of jumping from vessel to vessel...they keep burning out. It's rather tiresome."
"Well you're not touching Sam, or me for that matter."
"I wouldn't dream of it," he insisted. "I know there are others out there, but I need someone with your connections to help me locate one."
Dean raised his eyebrows. "My connections?"
"Well, Bobby Singer's connections, really...but the best way to him is through you, and the best way to you is through her."
Dean exhaled angrily. You knew he was mad at you just as much as he was mad at Lucifer. You were surprised he hadn't given you an earful yet, even with Lucifer listening in.
"Fine," Dean grumbled. "But the moment we find you a vessel, I want you out of her body. Do you understand me?"
"Perfectly," Lucifer answered.
"Now just sit there quietly until we get to Bobby's, understand? I want absolute silence."
"Well that's boring--"
"I can't stand hearing you speak with her voice, okay? So shut up."
Lucifer smirked, but fell silent, deciding instead to annoy you.
"He's mad at you, isn't he?"
"I said yes to you...of course he's mad."
"Does he know?"
"Know what?"
"How you feel about him?"
"I would really like you to shut the hell up now, Lucifer," you hissed.
"But I'm so bored," he whined.
"I don't give a damn and neither does Dean. It's about 2 hours to Bobby's place...can you be silent for 2 hours?"
"Fine," he grumbled. "It'll give me more time to dig around in your brain anyway..."
"Shit--no!"
You tried to shut him out of your mind as best as you could, but you could still feel him rooting around in your head...making himself at home and digging into memories and thoughts and feelings that were never meant to be shared with another soul.
**********
"What an unsightly place," Lucifer grumbled as he--you--followed Dean up the stairs to Bobby's door.
Dean shot an annoyed glare in your direction, but didn't comment.
"Bobby!" he called as he entered the house.
Bobby came into view and offered you both a tired smile. "Hey you two. What brings you to Sioux Falls?"
"We were close by on a hunt and now we need your help," Dean answered.
"Sure. Come on in."
Neither you, nor Lucifer, had said a word of greeting to Bobby, which struck the older man as odd.
"You alright, (Y/N)?"
"Oh I'm just peachy," your voice answered.
Bobby's eyes narrowed at you, immediately noticing your voice was off. Besides, you didn't tend to talk to Bobby like that.
Before Bobby could question you, Dean spoke up. "We need to find an archangel vessel...as fast as possible."
Bobby stared at him for a moment. "Dean, you are an archangel vessel."
"Yeah, well I need one to house the devil--and it ain't gonna be me or Sam."
"Why the hell do you need a vessel for Lucifer?"
Your hand reached out and tapped Bobby on the shoulder. Judging by Bobby's shocked expression, you assumed your eyes were once again glowing red. Bobby quickly took a step back, looking between you and Dean in confusion.
"It's a long story," Dean muttered. "But I don't want him riding shotgun in (Y/N)'s head any longer than necessary, so we need to find him another vessel."
"Preferably before this current one starts to rot from the inside out," Lucifer added.
"Seriously, Lucifer?"
"Well that is essentially what happens, you know. I wouldn't want to damage such a pretty face."
"Oh fuck off," you grumbled.
"Why in god's name would she say yes to you?" Bobby asked angrily.
"To save my life, okay?" Dean snapped. "Look--we don't have time for this. I need your help to find another vessel. Please."
Bobby sighed and crossed the room to his desk, which was covered in books and papers--an organizational system only Bobby understood. He eyed you warily, but he didn't comment on the situation further.
"I assume you know how to find an archangel vessel," Lucifer commented.
"Perhaps you could enlighten me," Bobby responded.
Lucifer sighed and began to tell Bobby what he needed to look for. You ignored the words coming from our own mouth, instead focusing on Dean. You could see how upset he was and it made you feel incredibly foolish. You hated seeing him like this, but you didn't regret your decision. The mere fact he was alive to be angry made this whole thing worth it.
"How long do you think it'll take?" Dean asked, interrupting your thoughts.
"A week or two--maybe a little more," Bobby answered.
Dean looked in your direction, eyeing you with concern. "Will (Y/N) last that long?"
"Might wanna keep it closer to two weeks," Lucifer replied.
"You're lying, aren't you?" you asked quietly.
"Do you want me to tell them the truth?"
You sighed internally. "I think Dean deserves to know."
"A week would be even better," Lucifer said aloud.
Dean stared at you, worry deepening the lines on his face. His gaze traced your face, searching for any signs of deception--or maybe signs of damage.
"Well then," Bobby muttered. "Better get started."
**********
You sat in the corner, feet up on another chair as you watched Dean and Bobby. You could tell both of them were extremely worried, but their focus was on finding another vessel. They didn't have time to dive into their fears for your life.
Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to think he had all the time in the world. He was quite happy to torture you instead of providing the two hunters with any assistance.
"Why haven't you told Dean?" he asked for what had to be the 1,000th time.
"There's nothing to tell, Lucifer. Would you just back off?"
"You're really no fun, you know that?"
"Good. This isn't supposed to be fun for you."
"I can make it fun."
"I'd really rather you not."
"Too late!" he said gleefully.
You could feel him poking around inside your head again, searching for something he could use to hurt you with--or hurt Dean with. You tried to keep him away from your darkest secrets, from the things you'd never shared with another soul, not even Dean. But you noticed it was getting harder and harder to resist him. You weren't sure if it was because he was so strong or if you were becoming weaker. Either way, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer found something he shouldn't.
Unfortunately for you, that moment came much sooner than you'd anticipated.
"(Y/N)--fuck, I mean Lucifer...can I talk to you outside for a moment?" Dean asked suddenly, rising from his chair and heading outside without waiting for a reply.
"Well this should be fun," you mumbled internally.
"I assure you," Lucifer mocked. "It will be."
You felt your body moving, feet heading after Dean whether you wanted to or not.
Once outside, Dean turned to face you, eyes filled with a multitude of emotions you couldn't stand to see. "I want to talk to (Y/N)."
"Oh come now," Lucifer said. "You know that's not how it works."
"I know you can shut up and take a backseat. So that's what I want."
"Hmm..." Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. "You know, I'd rather not. Besides, (Y/N) doesn't really feel like talking to you right now."
"Fuck you, Lucifer. Let me talk to him!"
"Sorry, sweetheart. Ain't happening."
"Somehow I doubt that," Dean grumbled angrily.
"You can doubt it all you want, but I'm the one physically inside her head. I know what she's thinking and let me tell you, it's not very complimentary of you."
"What?" Dean asked in surprised confusion.
"You have no idea what she really thinks of you, do you?"
"Lucifer, what the hell are you doing?" you growled.
He ignored you, instead focusing on his conversation with Dean.
"She's my best friend," Dean responded. "What more do I need to know?"
Lucifer laughed cruelly. "I'm sorry, that's just too funny. You think she's your best friend?"
You could see the look of hurt cross Dean's face for a moment, but he quickly covered it up.
"Sorry," Lucifer said, laughter subsiding. "It's just hilarious that you think she cares about you that much."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"She's tired of you, Dean. She's tired of your stubbornness, your self-loathing, your reckless behavior. She's tired of everything to do with you. She doesn't care about you--not really, anyway. You annoy the shit out of her, but she puts up with you because she feels like she has to."
You fought with everything you had to overpower Lucifer and take control of your mind and body. Not a single word Lucifer was uttering was true and you desperately wanted to tell Dean the truth.
"Stop fighting, (Y/N). You can't win," Lucifer whispered.
"Stop lying to him and I'll stop fighting," you insisted.
"No. I'm simply having too much fun."
Dean's face was impassive to the average person, but you saw through the mask on his face, and so did Lucifer. "I don't believe you," Dean said softly.
"You don't have to believe me. They're not my words. I'm simply relaying (Y/N)'s thoughts," Lucifer said with a shrug. "Haven't you ever wondered how she puts up with all your shit? You're not exactly walking sunshine, Dean. You're one of the most damaged humans I've ever met."
Dean inhaled deeply. "If she hates me so much, why does she stay?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
Neither you nor Dean knew what Lucifer was going to say next...and his words cut deeper than you'd expected them to.
"She's in love with your brother," Lucifer sneered.
"Lucifer, no!" you screamed.
Dean's eyes widened and shock settled onto his face. He turned around, his back to you in an attempt to collect himself.
You fought even harder...you needed to get this son of a bitch out of your body. It felt like you were locked inside your own mind with no way out. Lucifer was too strong and the harder you fought, the weaker you became. You quickly realized the more energy you expended, the stronger he became...there was no use in fighting him.
"You're a monster," you whispered.
"They call me the devil for a reason.'"
You didn't bother responding to him. Your heart was aching for Dean and all you wanted was to comfort him. You knew exactly where his head would be at right now and it was killing you.
He'd always compared himself to Sam--at least as long as you'd known him. He seemed to think Sam was better than him in a lot of ways and certainly more lovable. The mere idea that you agreed with that sentiment...that you loved Sam...it would break him and you knew it.
"Sam is better than you in every way," Lucifer added, stoking the fire. "Why would anyone love you when they could have Sam? He's everything you're not...sure of himself, confident, open and honest. Sam is better for (Y/N) than you could ever be."
Dean turned back around, face a mask of impassiveness once again. "Let's find you a vessel so you can get the hell out of our lives," he said in a low voice. "Besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way of Sam and (Y/N)'s love."
If you'd been capable of crying, you knew the tears would be streaming down your face in that moment. Your heart ached in a way you were unfamiliar with and you hoped Lucifer could feel the pain the same way you did.
"Why?" you whispered.
"Why what?"
"Why'd you say that to him?"
Lucifer laughed. "Simple...I knew it would hurt both of you. You're in love with him and if his reaction was anything to go by, it looks like he feels the same."
"We're both helping you right now. Why can't you just be grateful for 10 fucking minutes?" you hissed.
"Where's the fun in that?"
You knew the question was rhetorical, so you didn't bother responding. Instead, you quietly watched Dean walk away and you knew he was going to lose his shit. You could feel it as clearly as your own emotions.
"Let's follow him," Lucifer said happily.
"Let him take his anger out without an audience," you snapped.
Lucifer ignored you and quietly followed after Dean, keeping a distance to avoid being noticed.
Once Dean was farther away from the house and seemingly alone, he grabbed a crowbar from a nearby bench and began to beat the ever-loving-shit out of a junker car.
If you'd wondered about Dean's feelings for you before (and you had), you didn't wonder anymore. It was clear he cared about you in the same way you cared about him and you hated seeing him in such pain.
You wanted nothing more than to go to him, but Lucifer was much happier standing to the side and watching Dean suffer alone.
"Please," you whispered.
"You can tell him I'm a lying bastard if you manage to survive this."
"You and I both know that's not likely," you sighed quietly. "I don't want him to suffer and I don't want to die with him thinking I hate him."
"Pity. Guess you should have told him sooner..."
"Oh fuck off, Lucifer," you growled.
Lucifer's laughter echoed in your head and you hated him in that moment more than you could even begin to express.
**********
"You alright kid?" Bobby asked Dean when he returned to the house an hour or so later.
Lucifer, and therefore you, had returned shortly after watching Dean fall apart. When he'd dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face, Lucifer had gotten bored and left.
"I'm fine," Dean lied. "Do you have any leads?"
"I've put out my feelers to every person I could think of. I'm sure someone will have something for me soon."
"Did you call Sam?"
Bobby shook his head. "I assumed you did."
"Call him and let him know what's going on. I'm going out."
"Where are you going?"
"Yeah, Dean," Lucifer chimed in, "where are you going?"
"The nearest bar. Don't wait up."
You tried to say his name, but your mouth refused to form the word.
As soon as Dean was out of earshot, Bobby turned his attention to you. "What the hell did you say to him?"
"Me?" Lucifer asked, feigning innocence. "Why would you think I did something?"
"Maybe because you're the devil?" Bobby answered sarcastically.
Lucifer smirked darkly. "I may have poked at all of his insecurities."
Bobby groaned. "You're a son of a bitch, you know that?"
"That's not a nice thing to say about my Father."
Bobby just glared at you and rolled his eyes. He got up and left the room and you assumed he was going to call Sam.
"I second Bobby's comment."
"I wear it like a badge of honor."
You knew exactly what Dean was going to do and it was killing you. He was going to drink until he couldn't feel a thing, pick up some random girl, and fuck her senseless--anything to feel something other than the ache in his chest. You knew him better than he knew himself...but in this moment, you desperately wished you didn't. You would give anything to not know what he was going to do.
**********
Three days later, one of Bobby's sources had a lead on a potential archangel vessel.
Dean hadn't spoken to you or Lucifer unless he absolutely had to. It was too hard to even look at your face and hearing your voice was a thousand times worse.
Sam was still out on a hunt with Garth, but he promised to be there to help as soon as he could.
"Do you want me to come with you?" Bobby asked Dean as the two of you were preparing to leave.
"The less people involved, the better. Stay here in case we need more intel," Dean responded.
"I don't like the idea of you traveling alone with Lucifer."
"I'll be fine."
Bobby didn't believe him anymore than you did, but neither of you commented on it--not that you could have if you'd wanted to.
As you/Lucifer and Dean climbed into the Impala, Dean didn't spare a glance in your direction.
"Isn't this fun?" Lucifer asked. "I've always wanted to go on a roadtrip."
Dean groaned. "What are the chances you'll be quiet during this drive?"
"Slim to none," Lucifer said with a smirk.
The response almost made Dean smile. It sounded like something you would say and technically it was your voice. He had to remind himself you weren't really talking to him--every word out of your mouth was Lucifer.
Dean took off without another word and you silently prayed this lead would pan out. You were extremely tired and it had only been about four days since Lucifer had possessed you.
By this point, you were having a hard time focusing on what was happening in the real world. You were in pain and you could feel your body weakening...you were dying and you knew it. You just hoped Dean didn't notice.
**********
By the time the three of you arrived at your destination, you were feeling terrible. You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you'd left Bobby's. In fact, you were pretty sure you'd fallen asleep very early on.
"It's been about 12 hours," Lucifer told you.
"I slept for 12 hours?"
"You're dying," he said nonchalantly. "So you're going to have a harder time staying awake."
"Great," you whispered sarcastically.
"Lucifer!" Dean growled. "You coming?"
"Of course."
Lucifer followed Dean into a building you assumed was an apartment complex. Sometime during the elevator ride, you must have fallen unconscious again, because when you opened your eyes again, you found yourself standing in a nice apartment.
Dean was talking calmly to a young man who looked moderately terrified.
"Is he the vessel?" you mumbled.
"Yes. I can feel it," Lucifer responded.
"Thank god..."
"I'm sorry, you want me to allow the literal devil to possess me?" the young man practically yelled at Dean. "That's assuming I even believe in the devil."
"Look man," Dean said with surprising calmness. "I know I sound insane, but it's all real. We need an archangel vessel and like it or not, that's you."
"What if I don't want to say yes?"
Dean grabbed him by his collar. "Then the woman he's currently wearing will die...and I will do anything to prevent that." His voice was low, barely above a growl.
The young man looked terrified, eyes wide with fear. "Are you threatening me?" he whispered.
Dean straightened out the guy's shirt and gave him a dark smile. "Of course not."
"So I have a choice?"
Lucifer chuckled. "Don't think for a moment he'll give you an option, kid."
The guy looked at you and you felt terrible for him. You understood his fear and apprehension...and it felt wrong to force Lucifer onto him. This kid didn't deserve it.
"We shouldn't be doing this," you mumbled.
"Too late, (Y/N). Dean knows he's an archangel vessel. There's no way he's going to leave without getting him to say yes."
You wanted to respond--to fight, but you couldn't. You were too weak...too tired. Everything hurt too much.
"What's it like?" the guy asked softly.
"Like being strapped to a rocket," Lucifer said snidely.
Dean shot him an annoyed glance. "You'll be fine. You were meant for this."
The guy's gaze remained fixated on you. "She looks like shit...am I going to look like that?"
Dean finally focused his gaze on your face and you saw the fear flash in his eyes. He could see you were dying. Your skin was pale, your eyes bloodshot, dark circles adorning them...your lips were cracked and there were slight lacerations appearing around your forehead and jawline.
"She wasn't meant to house the power of an archangel," Lucifer responded. "She's dying, but the same won't happen to you."
"Will she be okay if I say yes?"
"Yes," Lucifer lied smoothly.
The guy looked like he was contemplating what to do, so Dean spoke up again.
"Look, kid. She's important to me...more important to me than pretty much anyone else in this fucked up world. I would do anything to save her...she's--she's my brother's girl."
You wanted to tell him that wasn't true, but you knew it was fruitless to even try. Even still, your heart ached at his words.
"How long?" the guy asked, directing his question at Lucifer.
"As long as I want. You'll never age, never die, as long as I'm with you."
The guy nodded. "Alright. I'll do it." He stood up. "What do I need to do?"
"Just say 'yes'," Lucifer answered.
"Yes."
A bright white light filled the room and Dean had to shield his eyes. When the light faded, you were lying on the floor and Lucifer was now clearly possessing the young man they'd come to find.
"(Y/N)!" Dean yelled as he raced to your side.
Your pulse was faint and you looked even worse than you had moments before.
"Heal her," Dean demanded.
Lucifer's lips curled up in a cruel smile. "No."
"Excuse me?"
"I said no," he repeated. "I'm not interested in saving her."
"You wouldn't have a vessel without us. You owe her!"
"I'm the devil, Dean. What makes you think I give a damn about debts?"
Dean stared at him, anger and terror fighting for control in equal measure. He stood up and went to lunge at Lucifer, but the archangel simply disappeared, leaving you and Dean completely helpless and alone.
**********
Dean had rushed you to the hospital and was currently sitting in the waiting room, hoping to hear something about your condition.
Sam rushed into the room, eyes scanning for his brother. When he saw him, Sam crossed the distance and wrapped Dean in a tight hug.
"How is she?" Sam asked.
"I don't know," Dean said quietly. "But it doesn't look good."
"She's strong, Dean."
"I don't think that matters...her body was never meant to house an archangel and she managed to do it for almost a week. She's dying, Sammy."
Sam's eyes filled with tears, but he blinked rapidly to keep them from falling.
Dean's heart ached, seeing his brother look so upset. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a broken emptiness in his soul--a space you used to occupy. But he needed to push past his own pain for his brother's sake. After all...you weren't his.
"For (Y/N)?" a doctor called into the waiting room.
Dean and Sam practically ran in her direction. Dean's heart clenched in his chest as he took in the doctor's sad expression.
"Are you (Y/N)'s family?"
Both men nodded.
"Come with me, please," the doctor said quietly.
They followed her to a private waiting area and Dean's dread increased significantly. "What's going on?" he asked worriedly.
"Please have a seat," the doctor asked, gesturing toward the chairs against the wall. She closed the door before taking her seat across from them.
"My name's Dr. Murphy. I'm (Y/N)'s treating physician."
"I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."
"There's no easy way to say this," Dr. Murphy said gently. "(Y/N)'s injuries are quite severe and she's in critical condition."
"But she's going to be okay, right?" Dean asked hopefully.
Dr. Murphy frowned and shook her head. "Her organs have begun to shut down...it's only a matter of time now. The best I can do is try to keep her comfortable."
"No," Dean whispered. "No, she can't--"
Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, trying to comfort his brother.
"I'm very sorry," Dr. Murphy murmured.
Dean suddenly stood up. "I can't do this. I need--I need air."
He practically ran from the room and Sam got up to follow him, but Dr. Murphy placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I think it's best to give him a moment."
Sam nodded as he desperately tried to push his own emotions away. He adored you, but he knew exactly how much Dean loved you...so he knew how much pain his brother was in right now. It hurt him almost as much as losing you.
***********
Once Dean was outside, he ran around to the side of the building, desperate to be alone for a moment. He collapsed onto the ground, back against the hard stone of the hospital exterior. All of the tears he'd been pushing back for days finally poured out.
He found himself falling apart in public--something he couldn't recall doing before. He couldn't bring himself to care. You were dying and it was killing him. It was all his fault. If he hadn't been so careless, he wouldn't have gotten injured and you never would have had to beg Lucifer to save him.
He knew it wasn't a rational way of thinking, but in that moment, it didn't matter. You were about to become just another name on a never ending list of people who died because of him. He couldn't take it--it was too much.
"I know I'm not exactly on good terms with any of you and I probably don't deserve your help, but I'm not asking for myself. (Y/N) is dying and I can't save her. I'm not normally the kind of man to beg, but I'm on my knees right now...begging for just one of you to find it in yourself to give a damn. She doesn't deserve this. She's the best person I've ever known...so please. Please someone answer me. Please..." His voice was broken by the end of his short speech.
He was desperate and there was nothing he wouldn't do to save her. If no angel would help him...he wasn't above making a deal with a demon. He'd been to hell once before, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you could live.
"Hello, Dean Winchester," a soft female voice said from beside him.
He jumped up quickly, ready to fight if need be. He hadn't even heard the woman arrive, which meant she likely wasn't human.
"Don't worry," she said gently. "I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Aliraphael."
"Aliraphael?" Dean repeated. "I've never heard of you."
She smiled. "You don't need to know my name to know what I am."
Dean swallowed thickly. "Why did you come?"
"You prayed for help. I answered."
"But why? We don't know you...what would make you wanna help us?"
Aliraphael smiled. "You, your brother, and (Y/N) have sacrificed much for this world and all of the people in it. I think you deserve a miracle."
Normally Dean wouldn't believe her, but there was something in her eyes that made him feel safe. He was inclined to trust her, but he had to be sure. "What do you want in return?"
"Nothing. This is my gift to you."
"Nothing is free."
"I understand why you may be jaded, but sometimes a gift is simply a gift. This is one of those times."
Dean nodded. "I'm choosing to trust you, but just know if you betray me, I will kill you."
She smiled. "I would expect nothing less of the great Dean Winchester."
Dean led Aliraphael into the hospital and his eyes scanned the waiting area for Sam. He wasn't there, so Dean assumed he'd gone to your room.
"Excuse me. Can you tell me what room (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is in?" Dean asked the receptionist.
The woman typed on her computer without looking up and muttered, "Room 212."
"Thanks," Dean replied. He tried to walk slowly--normally--to room 212, but every instinct in his body was screaming for him to get to you as quickly as possible.
When Dean entered the room, he saw Sam standing beside your bed, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. He was speaking softly to you and Dean felt that ache in his chest intensify.
"Sam," Dean said softly.
Sam turned towards the door, eyes red from his tears. He looked between Dean and Aliraphael in confusion. "Who's she?"
"I am Aliraphael," the angel responded. "I am here to heal (Y/N)."
Sam cut Dean a look. "What did you do?"
Dean shrugged. "I prayed. She came."
"Okay, but what did you promise her in exchange?"
"Your brother has promised me nothing. I am doing this because I wish to. I have no ulterior motive."
Sam still looked worried, but he stepped back to allow Aliraphael access to your bed. Aliraphael gently placed her hand against your forehead and closed her eyes. A soft white glow began to envelop your body and your skin began to return to normal.
After several moments, Aliraphael dropped her hand from your head and turned to Sam and Dean. "It is finished."
You started to stir in the bed and Dean's heart beat faster.
"She will awaken in a moment," Aliraphael assured them.
"Thank you," Dean whispered, unable to take his eyes off your face.
Sam echoed his brother's statement and Aliraphael smiled.
"You are all very welcome." With that, the angel disappeared as if she had never been there.
You groaned softly and your eyes slowly opened. You blinked rapidly trying to clear them and focus on the room around you.
"I have to go," Dean muttered.
"What?" Sam asked in surprise, but Dean had already exited the room.
"Sam?" you asked softly, hearing the younger Winchester's voice.
"Hey, (Y/N/N)," he murmured. "I'm here."
Your bright (y/e/c) eyes focused on his face. "What happened?"
"What do you remember?"
You thought about it for a moment and the memories of the past few days came flooding back. "Lucifer..." you whispered.
Sam sighed and nodded. "Yeah."
"I was dying, Sam--I felt it. Why am I not dead?"
"Dean prayed...and some angel we'd never met before came to save you."
Your eyes widened. "Dean...where is he? I need to talk to him."
"He was just here, but when you started to wake up, he bolted."
"Shit," you murmured. "We need to go after him."
You started to sit up and tug at the IV in your arm, but Sam stopped you.
"Woah! Woah! Slow down, (Y/N). You were almost dead not even five minutes ago."
"And now I'm not, so we need to get the hell out of here Sam," you insisted.
Sam sighed. He knew better than to fight you, so he simply helped you remove your IV and untangle you from the web of other tubes and wires. He handed you your clothes and turned around so you could get dressed in privacy.
"Alright, let's go," you said as soon as you were dressed.
*********
When Dean left the hospital, he'd taken the Impala and started the long drive back to Lawrence. He just wanted to get home before you and figure out what his next move was. If you and Sam were going to be together...he didn't want to be there to witness it. He couldn't.
Dean's phone had rang several times, but he hadn't answered. Most of the calls were from you and a few were from Sam, but he couldn't handle hearing your voice right now. Especially if you were going to tell him everything Lucifer had said was true.
"He's still not answering his damn phone," you muttered, throwing the phone onto the dash angrily.
"I just don't get why he'd leave like that," Sam said for the fifth time.
You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. "Lucifer said some things to him, Sam...things that hurt him deeply. None of it was true, but Dean doesn't know that."
"What kind of things?"
"Things about me...about how I feel. And about you," you admitted quietly.
"(Y/N), just tell me."
"Lucifer told Dean I couldn't stand him and the only reason I hung around was because I'm in love with you."
Sam scoffed. "And Dean believed him?"
"You didn't see his face, Sam...he believed every word. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't overpower Lucifer."
"Shit," Sam mumbled. "He's a goddamn idiot if he thinks you love me more than him."
You laughed dryly. "Lucifer played on Dean's insecurities and unfortunately, it worked."
Sam sighed. "Where do you think he'd go?"
"I have to hope he went home."
"Then let's get there before he does." Sam sped up, flooring the stolen car like he'd--well, like he'd stolen it.
You were about five hours from Lawrence and Dean had a head start. You knew it was unlikely you'd get there first, but you had to hope you could get there before he left.
**********
When Sam pulled into the Bunker's garage four and a half hours later, you were relieved to see the Impala parked where it should be. Dean would never leave without his beloved car, which meant he was still there.
Both you and Sam practically ran into the Bunker, calling Dean's name.
The green eyed hunter heard your voices, but he ignored both you and Sam. He couldn't face you...he just couldn't.
"Dean? Where are you?" you called again.
"Come on, Dean. We know you're here," Sam said in annoyance.
You headed into the kitchen and Sam went down towards Dean's bedroom. Both of you hoped to find him before he managed to sneak his way out.
Sam entered his brother's room without knocking and sighed in relief. "Dean. There you are."
"Sam," he said curtly.
"Why the hell did you leave? And why didn't you answer our calls?"
"I just needed to get out of there."
"What, before (Y/N) woke up?" Sam's tone made it clear exactly how stupid he thought his brother's actions were.
"Look man, I'm glad she's okay, but I can't face her. I don't want to have that conversation."
Sam decided to play dumb. "What conversation, Dean? The one where she thanks you for saving her life? Or where you yell at her for saying yes to Lucifer in the first place? Cuz trust me, we had that conversation already."
"That's not what I'm talking about, Sam," Dean said quietly as he started to pack his duffle. "But it doesn't matter. I'm leaving."
"Why the hell are you leaving?"
"I can't stay here. I can't--I can't see the two of you together," he whispered.
"Together?" Sam asked incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"It's fine, Sam. I know."
"There's nothing to know!"
Dean glared at his brother and shook his head. "I saw you at the hospital...you clearly feel the same as she does."
"Yeah I do!" Sam yelled. "She's my friend--she's family!"
Dean was about to snap back another retort, but Sam cut him off.
"Just talk to (Y/N), Dean. Let her explain...you owe her that much."
"I don't want to talk to her."
"I'm not going to give you a choice," you said from the bedroom doorway.
Both men turned to look at you in surprise. You crossed your arms and stood firm.
"I don't want to talk," Dean said quietly.
"Good. I don't want you to talk, Dean. I want you to listen." You turned your gaze to Sam and gestured with your head for him to leave the room.
He gladly exited, not wanting to be a part of this particular conversation.
You closed the door behind him and continued to stand in front of it, afraid Dean would try to leave if you moved.
"Lucifer is a liar, Dean. I shouldn't even have to say that. He's the devil, for crying out loud. He's kinda known for his lies."
"But he's also been honest with us before," Dean countered.
"Only when it benefited him. Just like he lies when it benefits him. Hurting you? Hurting me? That shit brought him joy."
"Really? Did it hurt you to hear him tell me how you really feel about me?"
"No," you said angrily. "It hurt me to hear him lie to you about how I feel! The things he said were cruel and terrible, but more importantly, they weren't true!"
Dean stared at you silently, clearly not believing a word you said.
"Do you really think I'm capable of lying to you for years? Think of every moment we've spent together, Dean...do you really think I pretended to care about you? Pretended to enjoy spending time with you? Think about all the times we've laughed together, the times we've had each other's backs, the small glances, the whispers in the dark when one of us had a nightmare. Think about all of those moments and then look me in the eye and tell me it was all a lie."
Tears filled his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same expression was reflected in your own. You took a step towards him, desperately wanting to touch him, but afraid it be unwelcome.
"You're my favorite person in the world, Dean Winchester. You. Not Sam, not Bobby, not Jodi...you. You hold my whole heart in your hands...you always have. If you don't want it, then I understand, but don't for a second think I love anyone but you."
His lips parted in surprise. "But what about Sam?" he whispered.
You sighed loudly. "Weren't you listening? Sam is my friend, Dean, but nothing more than that. I love him like a brother." You took another step towards him. "He doesn't compare to you--he couldn't compare to you. I love you, Dean...and I don't mean like a brother."
Dean inhaled deeply. "I want to believe you, (Y/N/N)..."
"Then believe me," you begged him. "I love you."
Dean thought about what Lucifer had said and he realized why he'd believed it so easily. They were all things Dean was afraid of...he knew he wasn't good enough for you and he was terrified you knew it too.
"Talk to me, Dean," you whispered, taking a final step towards him.
He looked deep into your eyes and found nothing but love there. The same love he held in his soul for you. "I've always been afraid to tell you how I feel because I know I'm not good enough for you," he admitted. "That's why it was so easy for me to believe Lucifer's lies...it was almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I couldn't believe you'd ever want me, so it was easier to believe you wanted Sam. He's better for you in every way."
"Stop," you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. "I decide who is best for me and I choose you. I will always choose you."
"(Y/N)," he whispered.
You pressed your lips against his, trying to infuse it with all of the love in your soul. Dean's arms wrapped around your thick waist, pulling you closer to him. He deepened the kiss, lips hungrily devouring yours.
You stayed locked in each other's embrace for what felt like an eternity. Your tongues fought for dominance and your hands caressed any part of each other they could reach.
When the kiss inevitably broke so the two of you could breathe, Dean laid his forehead against yours. "This might go without saying, but I love you too, (Y/N). So goddamn much."
You chuckled breathlessly. "After a kiss like that, I'd sure as hell hope so."
He grinned and tugged you even closer to him. His lips pressed against yours again and he found himself wanting to feel every part of your soft body. He needed it, just as much as needed air to breathe.
"Let me show you how much, baby," he whispered against your lips.
"Please," you moaned softly.
“Strip for me, pretty girl,” he commanded.
You gently pushed against his chest, forcing him back against the bed. He dropped down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving your body.
You slowly began to remove your clothing, taking much longer than you needed to. You were teasing him and he was eating it up.
You finally got down to just your bra and panties, nothing fancy as you obviously weren’t planning on this happening, but Dean didn’t seem to care. In fact, you were about to be very glad you didn’t wear anything nice.
“You are so damn beautiful, baby,” he whispered.
You offered him a warm smile, appreciative of the affection in his gaze. He thought you were a goddess among humans, a treasure to behold.
“I think you’re a bit overdressed, Dean,” you teased softly.
“You know, babe, I think you’re right.” He stood up and shed his layers significantly faster than you had. He was extremely impatient, as he was dying to get his hands on you.
You admired his broad chest, thick arms, and sculpted form. He looked incredible, scars and all. You felt the strong urge to kiss every single one of them, if he would allow you.
He now stood before you in nothing but his boxers, his large erection straining against the thin fabric.
“Let’s get this off you,” he muttered, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra.
The moment your breasts were exposed to his gaze, he let out a low groan. “Fuck, baby. These are even better than I’d imagined.”
“You imagined my—“ your question was cut off by the feeling of his lips wrapped around your nipple and his hands caressing your breasts gently.
The gentle movements quickly turned more intense, and he began to truly knead and nip at your flesh. You moaned softly and gently ran your fingers through his soft hair.
You pressed yourself even closer to him, feeling his bulge press against your abdomen. He lifted his head with a small smirk.
“Impatient, are we?”
You nodded quickly.
“Oh come on now, sweetheart. Use those words for me. Tell me what you want.”
“You,” you whimpered. “I want you.”
His smirk widened. “I figured that much out on my own, darlin'. I want you to tell me what you need.”
You weren’t exactly accustomed to expressing yourself verbally in the bedroom. To be honest, a lot of your past experiences weren’t that great anyway. A lot of one night stands with men who only cared about their own pleasure.
You found yourself feeling kind of excited at the prospect of a man listening to you and what you wanted…even more so because that man was Dean.
“I want you on your knees, handsome,” you said firmly.
Dean’s eyes widened slightly, but he dropped to his knees obediently. His normally bright green eyes were dark with lust as he locked eyes with you.
You loved the powerful feeling you had as you stood over him. The great Dean Winchester, on his knees for you.
You touched his face sweetly and he leaned into your palm, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Do you wanna eat my pussy, Dean?” you whispered.
His eyes shot back open, a hungry expression on his face. “Yes,” he breathed lowly.
“Then get to work,” you commanded softly.
Dean was used to being in charge in the bedroom and it wasn’t often he found himself submitting to a woman. You were different than any woman he’d ever been with before—after all, he loved you. If you told him to do a damn handstand naked, lick your feet, and call you “your majesty”, he would have done it in a heartbeat.
His calloused hands slowly slid up your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh. His mouth followed, leaving sloppy kisses as he worked his way closer to your core.
“Baby?” he asked softly, glancing up at you.
“Hmm?”
“Do you have any particular attachment to these panties?”
“No, why—Dean!” you gasped as he ripped your underwear in half, tossing the remains to the floor.
He grinned and made a happy little noise deep in his throat before kissing your mound. He grabbed your right leg and tugged it up over his shoulder, giving him better access to you.
“Lean on me for support, beautiful. I got you.”
The moment you laid a hand on his shoulder and he was sure you were stable, he dove into your pussy with a deep growl.
Your head fell back in ecstasy and a series of moans left your lips. The hand not holding onto his shoulder immediately wound itself in his hair, holding on for dear life.
“Dean—feels so good,” you moaned.
His hands dug into your ass cheeks in response, tugging you even closer to him. He never wanted to stop—hearing those sweet sounds you made mixed with the heady taste of your sweetness was more intoxicating than any drink he’d ever had.
Your legs had begun to tremble and Dean’s grip on you tightened. He wasn’t willing to stop his ministrations, but he wouldn’t let you fall either.
Your nails scraped against his scalp and his shoulder as you clung to him. The pleasure was almost too much and not enough all at once, and you felt your orgasm approaching.
“Dean,” you gasped. “I’m so close.”
He smiled against your core and shifted his focus more heavily to your clit. You cried out and cursed softly, and he knew he’d made the right move.
“I—oh god,” you cried as your orgasm washed over you.
Dean lapped up everything you had to offer, his grip on your body never loosening. As you began to come down from your high, he slipped his hands up to your hips to ensure he didn’t drop you.
He gave your pussy one last lick before allowing you to pull him up by his hair. To his surprise, you mashed your lips against his hungrily, not giving a damn that he tasted like you.
One hand tangled into your hair and the other held you tightly. “What do you want me to do now, sweetheart?” He murmured against your skin.
“Take control, Dean,” you begged. “Make my legs shake. Make me scream. I don’t wanna be able to move for hours.”
“Holy fuck,” he groaned. “Who taught you to talk like that, baby?”
You smirked. “It comes naturally with you.”
"Well it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard," he murmured.
His strong arms wrapped around your waist and gripped you tightly. He spun you both around so your back was to the bed. He pulled you up into his arms and tossed you onto the bed.
You gasped in surprise, not used to being manhandled in such a manner. You sat up slightly, resting on your elbows as you looked at the gorgeous man in front of you. You curled one finger and beckoned him towards you with a smirk.
He quickly discarded his boxers and dropped onto the bed, crawling slowly up your body. He dropped kisses onto your skin as he moved, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
When he reached your mouth, you reached up and grabbed the hair at the base of his neck, tugging him down to you. Your kiss was hungry and needy, leaving no question as to what you wanted.
As the kiss deepened, Dean shifted his body to touch your soft curves. In doing so, the tip of his cock brushed against your pussy, eliciting soft moans from both of you.
Dean's hands traced softly up and down your sides, relishing the feeling of your skin against his. "I love touching you," he murmured in your ear. "You're so damn soft."
You smiled and turned your head to nip at his jaw. He groaned and turned his attention back to your soft lips, sucking the bottom one between his teeth and biting down gently.
Much like Dean, you loved touching his body, but you reveled in the firmness of his body beneath your hands. Every time he moved, you could feel his muscles tense and shift. His body was powerful and beautiful--a vessel carrying the most incredible soul you'd ever known.
Dean shifted again, nudging your head to the side so he could suck at your neck, leaving love marks on the sensitive skin. You lifted your hips up slightly, seeking some kind of friction to relieve the ache between your legs. Once again, his cock brushed against your core and you gasped lightly. Dean, on the other hand, bit gently into your neck to suppress a loud moan.
"I can't wait any longer, baby," he groaned.
"Take me. I'm yours," you whispered.
He sighed softly, kissing you sweetly before pulling away. "Roll over for me, sweetness. Hands and knees."
Your eyes widened in surprise, but you rolled over immediately. You lowered your upper body to lay flat against the mattress, ass high in the air.
"Holy shit," Dean murmured as his hands grasped your large, round ass. "Who said you could have an ass this incredible? I can't wait to watch it jiggle while I fuck you senseless."
Before you could respond, he smacked your ass with an open palm, causing you to gasp slightly.
He seemed to realize belatedly that he should have asked if you were okay with that before doing it, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined smacking your ass for years. "Is that okay, baby?"
"More, please," you begged softly.
He smacked your ass again with a grin. "You like that?"
"Harder, Dean," you moaned. "Like you mean it."
"Fuck," he groaned, hand coming down against your cheek again.
Each time you moaned loudly, reaffirming your enjoyment of the action. Your pussy clenched around nothing and you were beyond desperate for him to just fuck you already.
"Dean, I need you--please," you cried desperately.
"Where do you need me, baby?"
"Inside me," you whimpered.
Without warning, you felt one of Dean's thick fingers enter your pussy. "Like this?"
You shook your head rapidly.
"Words, babe," he said firmly.
"I want your cock, Dean."
"Yeah? Tell me where."
You turned your head to look at him as best as you could from your current position. "I want you to fuck my pussy with your big, thick cock...please," you pleaded softly.
Dean blinked rapidly and licked his lips. He pulled his finger out from inside of you and sucked your juices from it. "Yes ma'am," he murmured.
He leaned forward and kissed your cheek where he'd left a red mark from his slaps. You turned your head back around, forehead against the mattress, preparing yourself for what would come next.
Dean gripped his cock tightly, stroking it a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He started to enter you and you gasped at the stretch. It was painful given his larger than average size.
"I've got you, baby," he whispered, running his hands up and down your back in a soothing manner. "Just relax for me."
You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body as much as you could. When he felt the tension leave you, he continued to push forward.
You'd never felt so full before and the pain had begun to subside into pleasure. "You're so big," you mumbled.
Dean smirked and chuckled softly. "I'm not all the way in yet, sweetheart."
"What?!" you gasped in surprise.
He pushed the rest of the way in, bottoming out so deep inside you, you swore you could feel him against your cervix. "Fuck!" you yelped.
Dean continued his soothing hand motions on your hips as he allowed you the time you needed to adjust to his size.
While you appreciated his gentleness, you desperately needed him to fuck you. Instead of telling him what you wanted, you moved your hips forward slightly before slamming back against him so your ass pressed firmly against his lower abdomen.
Dean's blunt nails dug into your hips and he growled lowly. "Fuck, baby."
His hips snapped forward and he held you in place by your hips. He set a brutal pace, unable to move slowly--it felt way too damn good.
Dean was completely mesmerized by your ass, watching it jiggle as he fucked into you forcefully. He slapped the opposite cheek from the one he'd hit earlier and you cried out in pleasure, pussy clenching around him.
"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetness," he moaned. "Tightest pussy I've ever had."
You couldn't formulate a good response to his words as you were already too far gone. His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, making your legs shake and your head fog up.
"Made for me, weren't you baby?"
"Mhmm," you hummed.
Dean smiled, knowing you were overwhelmed with pleasure and unable to respond properly. He leaned forward and grabbed a handful of your hair at the base of your neck. He tugged back slightly--just enough to cause a little pain without truly hurting you.
His thrusts were almost violent, they were so fast and hard. He wanted to feel you come apart on his cock and he knew you were close.
"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he whispered.
You simply whined desperately.
"What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."
"More," you begged.
"Hmm," Dean hummed. He slipped an arm around your waist and tugged you back against him so you were sitting up as he continued to thrust into you.
One hand slid up to your neck, wrapping around your throat and applying just a tiny bit of pressure to gauge your reaction. His other hand moved slowly towards your core, seeking your clit for added stimulation.
"Dean!" you cried.
He bit into your shoulder. "I'm here, baby. I want you to fall apart for me."
He rubbed at your clit quickly, thrusts slower due to the new position, but nevertheless pleasurable.
You needed just a little more to push yourself over the edge, so you gripped his hand around your neck and put more pressure on it, indicating what you needed.
Dean got the hint and tightened his grip on your throat, just enough to push you over the edge. He didn't want to hurt you--he would never hurt you.
"Cum for me, sweet girl," he murmured in your ear.
You cried out as your second orgasm crashed against you and your pussy tightened almost painfully around Dean's cock. He helped you ride out your high before lowering you back to the bed and rolling you over onto your back.
He was immediately on top of you, thrusting into you more slowly. He put one arm on either side of your head to support himself, effectively trapping you beneath him.
He rolled his hips against you, the motion pressing his pelvis against your clit, causing you to whimper in pained pleasure. Your hands found purchase in his upper back, nails digging in as he repeated the action.
"I love your body, baby," he whispered. "So fucking perfect."
You smiled up at him, pulling him down for a heated kiss. "I like it too," you mumbled. "Yours isn't bad either."
He chuckled lightly, kissing you lovingly. "I wanna see you come apart for me, (Y/N). Can you give me one more?"
Your eyes widened. "I don't think I can..."
"I bet you can, sweetness." He grabbed your hips and pulled your legs up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. He began to thrust in earnest again and your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips.
Dean closed his eyes, focusing on pulling at least one more orgasm from you and keeping his own at bay. The way you were squeezing him made it a hell of a lot harder than he would like.
The harder his thrusts, the tighter you seemed to grip him, and the deeper your nails dug into his back. He knew he was going to have some serious gashes on his back, but he intended to wear them with pride.
"Come apart for me, baby. Let me feel you soak my cock," he begged.
"Dean," you groaned.
"Come on, my love--let go."
Your eyes fluttered closed and your body began to shake as waves of pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. You came for the third time that night, cries of pleasure mixing with Dean's moans of encouragement.
You started to come down from your high, body overly sensitive from the onslaught of pleasure that continued. "Dean, too much!" you gasped.
"Just one more," he begged.
"I can't!" you whimpered.
"Please baby--one more. Need it," he continued to beg.
You didn't think it was possible for you to cum again, but you began to feel a new sensation in your abdomen. It felt similar to the familiar tightening coil that signified an oncoming orgasm, but it was infinitely more intense. You weren't even sure if it was pleasure or pain--the feeling was simply too overwhelming to comprehend.
"Dean--I can't--" you gasped in confusion.
His hand slid between your bodies to gently massage your clit and you suddenly couldn't breathe. You began to writhe beneath him, hands gripping at the sheets to try and ground yourself.
Dean knew you were about to come undone again, so he didn't slow any of his motions. "Look at me, baby."
Your eyes met his for no more than a moment before your vision became blurry. You screamed his name as you came for a fourth and final time. The feeling was so incredible, you couldn't even begin to describe it.
Your vision began to return to normal as you desperately tried to catch your breath. You were practically limp beneath him as Dean began to chase his own orgasm.
He tucked his head into the crook of your neck and murmured soft words of praise against your skin. "Feels so good--squeezing me perfectly."
He kissed your neck as his thrusts became more erratic. "I'm gonna fill up this pretty little pussy, sweetness. Gonna cum for you."
You managed to press a kiss into his shoulder and wrap your arms around him, hands clutching his back. "Fill me up, Dean," you whispered encouragingly.
Dean groaned lowly. "This pussy is mine, baby. You hear me? Mine."
"Yours, Dean. Only yours."
"Oh--fuck--" he groaned. "(Y/N)!"
His hips began to stutter, thrusts faltering as he filled you up with his seed. He whispered your name like a prayer as his movements began to slow to a halt. You clung to him tightly as he came down from his high.
He finally collapsed on top of you, completely spent and breathless.
You rubbed his back soothingly, lips pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder and neck. As the two of you laid there quietly, you began to notice the bedding beneath you was particularly wet--more so than you had expected it to be.
"I love you so much," Dean whispered, lips pressed softly against your jaw.
"I love you too, baby," you said sweetly.
Dean began to lift himself up, each movement making you gasp--body too overstimulated to handle any motion.
"Sorry, sweetheart," he murmured softly.
"I'm not complaining," you assured him.
He grinned slightly as he pulled himself up completely, softened member sliding out of your excessively wet pussy.
He looked down at the bed and his grin widened. "We made quite the mess, baby."
"Yeah, it feels a little...wetter than normal."
He chuckled softly. "That's probably because you squirted, (Y/N/N)."
You gasped, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. You realized that must have been the result of the most intense orgasm of your life. "I did?!"
Dean noticed your discomfort and immediately reassured you. "Yeah, sweetness--and it was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."
You bit your lip and looked up at him. "Really?"
He grinned. "Really."
"I've--uh--well...I've never squirted before," you admitted.
His chest puffed up with pride. "I'm honored to have been the first--and the last." He added a wink for emphasis.
You smiled softly. "Maybe don't make it a regular thing...I literally can't move."
Dean laughed. "Don't worry, babe. I'll take care of you."
You watched the handsome man cross the room and go into the bathroom, emerging several minutes later with two washcloths. He gently picked you up, moving you to the other side of the bed where it was dry. From there, he very gently began to clean you up with the warm washcloths.
You were moved by the loving way he took care of you, making sure you were clean and comfortable before leaving the room in search of another set of sheets.
When he returned, you found you still couldn't move, but Dean didn't seem to mind. "I can change the sheets with you in them, (Y/N)."
"But--"
"Hush," he insisted as he pressed a kiss to your lips.
He made quick work of removing the sheets on the other half of the bed and putting the clean sheets on that side. He then scooped you up again and moved you to the clean, crisp sheets. He removed the rest of the soiled sheets and finished making the bed.
As soon as he was finished, he crawled into the bed beside you. He reached out to grab your soft body and tugged you against his warm chest.
You nuzzled into him and sighed softly. "I could get used to this."
He smiled and kissed the top of your head. "I'll always take care of you, baby...so you might as well get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."
You smiled and pressed a soft kiss onto his chest. "I love you, Dean."
Dean tightened his grip on you and smiled. "I love you more, (Y/N/N). Always."
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x reader smut#dean winchester x plus size!reader smut#dean winchester x plus size reader#supernatural smut#supernatural fanfic#dean winchester smut#jensen ackles smut
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