it's like dean just kissed him and is waiting for sam to say something

Lazy

Summary: Pure porn without plot. You wake up and spend a morning with Sam and Dean.

Warnings: Smut, threesome (no Wincest), anal sex

Word Count: 2650ish

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy! XOXO

Too hot. Too bright. Everything feels heavy and suffocating, like you’re trapped or tied down. Leg muscles twitch, but you can’t move them as you force your brain to swim toward the surface, try to break your mind out of its haze.

And then you wake up.

For just a moment, you focus only on your breath. You wake up like this two or three times a week, have ever since you started hunting, and it will only take your body a few seconds to calm down.

Keep reading

Was I a good Sister?

Characters - Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester

Warning - Swearing, angst, character death

“Y/n! SHOOT NOW” I heard my father voice yell at me so I took my aim at the werewolf heart and tried to fire but I then realised that my gun was jammed! “oh no” I whispered

I saw the werewolf advance towards my elder brother and it threw him across , I watched in shock when his body slammed into the tree, the werewolf turned towards me but my gun was still jammed, I tried to shoot him but it wasn’t working just when then I heard a loud bang from behind me and I saw the werewolf fall to the ground, I turned around and saw my other elder brother Sam.

My father suddenly appeared in my view and ran towards Dean, me and Sam followed him, we dropped on our knees around where Dean lay unconscious. I tried to caress his forehead to inspect the damage when my father shoved my hand away.

“Don’t you dare touch him! ”,he snarled.

He then looked at Dean and tried to find if he had any serious injury on him. I looked at Sam but he was too focused on Dean. I then felt my cheek burn severely and loud resounding slap could be heard across the forest. I realised then that my father had hit me and he had me so hard that I was lying on the ground. I definitely had a bruise now.

“Dad, what the hell was that!? ” I heard Sam shout but my dad just glared at him and then at me, he shook his head in anger dropped down so he could swing dean’s arm around his shoulder.

Sam who was staring at his father in shock and anger immediately pushed his feelings aside and grabbed the other arm. They carried Dean this to the impala with me trailing behind him.

“y/n/n, go sit in the backseat and then we will lay him down” I nodded slowly and did as Sam said, the entire time I could feel my dad’s eye on me.

The ride to the isolated cabin was extremely quiet, I kept caressing Dean’s forehead and his hair and I kept on whispering “ I am sorry, I am so sorry ” and the tears trailed down my face.

Sam’s POV

I heard my little sister sniffling in the backseat and comforting my elder brother while saying sorry. It literally broke my heart to see her so upset. All I wanted to do was hug her tightly and tell her everything was going to be okay but if I say something now I know my father will be even more furious, I still cannot believe that he had hit her.

We reach the cabin and take Dean inside, we inspect him and wonder if any serious injury has taken place but he was just knocked out , I look over at my little sister and see that she was standing at door with an expression of fear plastered over her face. I smile at her but she doesn’t smile back.

After tending to Dean my father walks out of the room but not before he take Y/n’s arm in vicious grip, I spare my brother one look and walk out of the door.

Y/n’s POv

“what the hell were you doing?!
“I.. ”
“You could have gotten your brother killed you irresponsible idiot, why can’t you do anything properly?! ”
“Dad just listen to her”
“You stay out of this Sam, it does not concern you, we could have lost Dean because of her, you are the reason that your brother is in there….. Hurt”
“But dad.. ”
“JUST SHUT UP! I can’t even bare to look at you, my son is hurt because of you, you are an ungrateful, irresponsible and disgusting sister and I can’t even call you my daughter ”

That was it. This sentence did it for me, I was in pain ,not the physical kind the other one the one where your heart feels heavy and it hurts, I looked at my father with tears in my eyes but I would not let them drop.

“what the hell is wrong with you dad, why can’t you just listen to her, who says that to their own child?!”

My dad didn’t answer my brother he just walked out the door, Sam then removed his attention from John and then kneeled down so he could be of my height, he kept both his hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye.

“hey, listen to me sweetie don’t you dare even for a moment think that you are not a good sister, you are the most amazing, beautiful kind girl in the whole world and me and Dean love you so so so so much! ”

I looked him in the eye but I did not have the strength to reply so I just went back to the room where Dean was sleeping.

Sam’s POV

I watched my little sister walk back in the room, I was so shocked to hear my father say such horrible things to a 13 year old girl.
I went in the room and saw that she was covering Dean up with a blanket she then sat at the edge of the pushed his hair back and kissed him on the forehead.

My heart melted right there, how could my father say such horrible things to someone as sweet as her, I just couldn’t resist so I walked up behind her and put my arms around,she turn around and put her arms around my waist and her face towards me, I hugged her for a while but then I felt her shoulders shake I looked down and saw that she was sobbing her little heart out so I kneeled down again so I could be of her level and then hugged her tightly.

“I am sorry, I am so sorry”, she said this while hiccuping in between her sobs.

“I can’t lose you or Dean, I love you too much, I am sorry ” I knew I couldn’t say anything to comfort her so I picked her up and carried to my bed, we are used to sharing beds so I lay her down and I lay down beside her I put my arm around her and gently stroke her back soon she is fast asleep.

Y/n’s POV
I wake up the next morning to see that my Sam was sleeping beside me softly snoring , I looked on the other side and saw that Dean was also sleeping, so I got up and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. When I came back I saw that Dean was starting to wake up.

“Hey Dean, can you wake up? ”, he groaned but slowly opened his eyes
“hey, how are you feeling? ”
“Ummm…. Extremely sore”
“well you were thrown into a tree so that is to be expected I guess”

“Wait, what the hell happened? Are you okay? ”

“Yea bro, Everyone is good, you were the only one who was hurt”

I grabbed his medicine from the side table and then got him a glass of water.

“Here you go”
“Thanks sweetheart, you know you always take such good care of us”

My smile wavered a bit as I remembered last night’s events but I didn’t let the sadness or the immense guilt I was feeling come to my face. I then took both his hands pulled him in a sitting position.

“you can use the shower and have a good long bath”
“Thanks sweetie ” he said looking at me but then his smile turned into a frown and his hand went to touch my cheek.
“Did the werewolf get you or something? ”
“No why? ”
“You have bruise on your face”
I immediately felt extremely tense but then I just brushed it off and then walked to the living room. I saw John sitting over there with a pen and newspaper he looked towards me and said
“We are going on a hunt tonight.”
“What? What about Dean”
“Your will brother will not go obviously ”
“Dean is not going to agree to that ”
“Just be ready, there were not ONE but TWO werewolf but because of you we could not kill it last night so I suggest do as I ask”.

Later that night.
Dean had thrown a bitch fit and was here saying he was fine and will not be left at home. I had persuaded Sam to not tell Dean anything now, but we could do it after the hunt. I had rechecked my guns atleast 10 times to make sure it wasn’t jammed.

We walked through the jungle looking for the wolf, but it had seemed like hours had passes but we still had no clue where it was.

I still don’t know how I saw but I did, the werewolf was standing behind Dean, it had raised its claw to strike at my brother but I pushed my brother put of the way and felt it claws go deep in my stomach.

Dean’s PoV

I saw in astonishment as my little sister pushed me out of the way and the werewolf impaled her in stomach. I raised my gun and shot him straight in the heart, the werewolf fell down with a thud.

I looked down at my little sister who was bleeding from the stomach profusely, I picked her up and put her head in my lap, I then felt Sam and Dad running towards us.

“De it hurts a lot ” she cried
“Shhhh sweetheart, don’t worry everything is going to be okay you are going to live and we are going to talk about cutting Sammy’s hair in sleep and well pranking people and making them annoyed”

My sister shook her head and coughed and I saw the blood trickle out of her mouth so I wiped it away with my thumb
“ I am not going to make it, I know it” she croaked
“No y/n/n don’t you dare say that ”, Sam said in a crying voice “ you our baby sister we need to here, I love you so much”
“You heard Sam sweetheart, you can’t go we need you here:

But she ignored us and then asked in a croaked voice
“Was I a good sister? ”
And then both me and Sam just broke, both of us had tears running down our check so we each grabbed her hand I said

“oh yes sweetie, you are amazing sister and I love you so so so much” I then looked at my dad who was standing with an emotionless expression. Y/n looked at all of us “ I love you. ALL OF you I am going to miss you and I am glad I saved you dean”

Saying this my baby sister took her last breaths and then her head just fell sideways, he beautiful eyes were now not looking at anything.
So I put an arm around Sam and pulled him close and cradled my baby sister in my other arm. Oh god I will never see her smile, never kiss her while she was sleeping, never see her taking care of us, never take care of her she is just gone.

My father then came next to us and said “I am sorry baby girl please come back”

And at that time all we wanted was our little baby sister to come back but I knew she wouldn’t listen because she can’t, thinking about this we cried and screamed at the sky above us.

@winchesters-favorite-girl @u-snavi @dreamin-of-somewhere-else @blacktithe7

@straightasdeanwinchester @percussiongirl2017 @peachwizard @spnsisimagines @nickiwinchester97
a day in the life.

established dean/cas, hunter husbands, for @honorreid. thank you for donating to the Team Trash Brigade GISHWHES fundraiser! want to commission me for something of your own? click here for more info. 

Castiel sleeps like the dead. It’s an unfortunate truth.

Dean rolls over only half awake because someone has stolen all the blankets, and he blindly seeks out warmth and comfort too early in the morning. Castiel is all but a statue beside him in bed though: on his back, comforter curled over his mouth with just his nose uncovered. He sleeps soundly and doesn’t stir when Dean nudges him, tries to squeeze his way under an arm or against his chest. Dean snuffles – not quite a whine – and Castiel goes so far as to kick him under the blankets, closing his eyes defiantly tighter.

Dean sighs. Time to get up, then.

Keep reading

Dean is aging every day and Castiel can see it in the fine lines when he smiles, the way his eyes crinkle. Every day there’s another line forming and Castiel can see it. Every single one of them. He sees the first small gray hair that starts at the root of Dean’s hair. He doesn’t think Dean can see it, at first, but after a week Dean begins parting his hair differently. Castiel cannot see the single gray strand anymore, until there is a small bundle of them.

With each waking day, Dean’s hands begin to ache in the places that strains when he holds his gun. He pretends not to care, but Castiel knows. He can read Dean like a book he’s read a million times.

Castiel stays the same. Humanity caught up with his vessel in the short while he had no grace, yet now he seems to have stopped aging once again. He stays young while Dean’s knees ache. Small touches let Castiel ease the pain, and Dean catches on to what he is doing. He says thank you with his eyes, that still sparkle a beautiful sage color. The love Castiel has for Dean never dulls, but only deepens the more Dean let’s him heal.

It seems, eventually Dean wants to skip out on hunts. His bones throb too badly, or he’s catching yet another cold. Sam notices, too, but says nothing. It’s inevitable. Dean is much older than Sam is, and not as nimble anymore. Castiel always stays with Dean. Just in case.

Sometimes Dean will let Castiel sit with him while he watches the latest game on television. Usually Dean will fall asleep by halftime, never able to sleep well at night. His head always ends up on Castiel’s shoulder, beer slipping through his fingers that once held it tightly. Castiel puts the beer on the coffee table, and maneuvers to lean back enough for Dean’s head to rest comfortably on his chest. Castiel has no heartbeat for Dean to listen to, but placing a firm hand on Dean’s shoulder lets him pulse power through Dean’s veins, easing any ache or pain. Dean always sleeps better this way. It seems to give him a little bit more life that way.

Dean does not like it when Castiel heals him of his aches. “They let me know I’m still human, Cas. Just let me ache. That’s why they invented Advil.” Dean will say, giving Castiel a glare. But Dean always comes to Castiel at night, or comes to get him when the Advil won’t help his restless leg syndrome, or ease the throb of his nerves enough to get a few un-solid hours. Castiel is always more than willing to place that firm hand on Dean, watching him sleep peacefully like he deserves after a lifetime of restless nights.

“Let me heal you, Dean.” Castiel demands, watching the man he loves practically decay on the sofa. Dean had insisted on going to a hunt with Sam, and had sprained a few bones. They were not healing, and it had been over a week. “Please.” Castiel begs.

“No, Cas.” Dean repeats over and over. Castiel doesn’t care. Dean isn’t quick enough to dodge Castiel’s hand as if clamps around his ankle. It’s healed within seconds, and Dean is angry at him once more. “Damnit Cas!” Dean jerks his leg away, and glares red hot towards Castiel.

“I don’t understand, Dean!” Castiel barks back at him, “You can go on hunts all you want if you just let me heal you when you come back.”

“That’s not how life is supposed to work, Cas. I go on a hunt and I get hurt, if I die from it then that’s how it needs to be! No more loopholes, Cas. I’m gettin’ old, I know it, you know it, Sam knows it. Shit happens, and nature takes its course. It can’t do that if you keep interrupting it!”

“It sounds as though you want to die,” Castiel says dully, and blunt.

“Maybe I do.” Dean says quietly, hardly shocking Castiel. “I’ve lived a long life, saved a lot of people and then some. I’m alright with it.”

Castiel can’t cry, but if he could then he would be sobbing. He can feel it inside, how sad he is. “Dean, I’m not alright with it. My whole purpose of being is because of you. Every day before you, I simply waited for the day. And every day after, I was living for you and fighting for you. There was never a moment I was doing something that wasn’t for you in some way. If you’re gone, what am I supposed to live for?”

“Live for Sammy, Cas. He needs someone, too, you know.”

“Dean, as soon as you’re gone Sam is going to go back to a normal life. And you know that.”

Dean shakes his head, “I don’t want you to interfere anymore, Cas.”

Castiel nods a final nod, and says nothing the nights he still eases Dean’s pains when Dean calls for him. The days go by quickly, as do the seasons. He is worse in the winter, and soon he hardly moves from his worn spot on the sofa.

Castiel leaves Sam with him a single day, saying they need him briefly in Heaven. Dean smiles at him and says he’s happy Cas is off doing angelic things for once. Castiel smiles back and Sam nods. He knows Castiel’s plan.

Castiel comes back over a day later, and Dean is asleep in his bed. When Castiel enters, Dean stirs and reaches for him. He must be hurting again. Castiel gets down to his briefs and slides in bed with Dean, the single brush of skin easing all of Dean’s pains. He relaxes entirely against Castiel. Dean feels very hot, and clammy.

“Are you sick again?” Castiel asks worriedly.

“Yeah,” Dean grunts. “I went out for a drive and got caught in the rain. I think it’s the flu,” Dean grumbles. Castiel brushes a soft hand over his forehead and dulls the fever. “Thanks,” Dean says softly. Castiel is thrown off by the acceptance but says nothing. Dean begins talking. He’s somewhere between sleep, stuck in a limbo. “I am gettin’ scared, every day.” He admits in the quiet air of the bedroom. “Once my light goes out, that’s it. No more chances like I’m used to.”

Castiel interrupts softly. “I could give you another, Dean. We can age together, this next time. If you let me.” There’s a pleading tone in Castiel’s voice that Dean can recognize.

“No, Cas. I need to be a man about this.” Dean grumbles, head rolling to rest on Castiel’s pale chest. “I’m just scared of where I’m going. I always thought death would be easy, that I’d die out on a hunt. It’d be quick, maybe not painless, but I thought it would happen so fast the fear wouldn’t set in. But dying of old age? Slow like this? Every day, man. I can feel it. I’m gettin’ closer. Every time I’m sick it’s like death is just looming, beggin’ me to go to sleep so it can take me. It gives me time to think about it, and the fear gets bad. I hate bein’ scared. I’m scared I’m goin’ to hell, or purgatory again. Or get stuck in the void like Kevin did. I wanna go to Heaven, and be with Bobby and Ellen and Jo.” Castiel faintly realizes Dean is crying silently, tears pooling beneath Dean’s cheek.

“In Heaven,” Castiel begins. “I talked to some of my superiors.” Dean ‘mm-hmms’, quietly. “They would not take my grace, so my age would catch up. But I reserved you a spot, right where you want to be. And I will escort you myself. Not a reaper, or a demon. Me, and I will hide nothing from you. I will hold your hand the whole way.” The love Castiel has for this man is swelling hugely in his vacant chest, and if Castiel could cry he would cry for love.

Dean’s fingers skim past Castiel’s chest to grab his hand. The hold is limp, and weak. Castiel’s worry is at its highest, and he feels the desperate need to go yell for Sam.

Somehow, Sam senses Castiel’s desperation. He barges into the room, eyes wide with worry. Castiel and Sam’s eyes meet and the words don’t need to be spoken.

“Dean?” Sam asks, walking to his brother. Dean let’s out a small moan of acknowledgement, and faintly tells Sam he loves him. The grip on Castiel’s hand is slightly stronger when Dean finds the energy to kiss Castiel’s chest, the words unspoken but there. Castiel wraps fingers through Dean’s damp hair and holds him close.

Sam is crying silent tears and holds back a sob by biting his fist.

Dean goes quietly, in his sleep. Castiel slips from underneath him and makes sure to tuck him in as he goes to console Sam, who has aged as well, but is still young and healthy. Death won’t take him as quickly if he begins to settle down. Castiel makes sure to tell him this.

Castiel explains his plan to Sam over once more. He’s going to lead Dean to Heaven himself. He’s going to be with Bobby and Ellen and Jo. Just like he wanted. Castiel will be there, too, and he will be down whenever Sam prays to him. And if Sam wants, Castiel will walk him through the veil, too.

Castiel’s conversation is interrupted by Dean. A Dean Sam cannot see, but yet the same Dean he knows. Dean has a worried look in his eye, watching Sam cry silent tears. Castiel tells Sam it’s time, and gives him a large hug goodbye. He pleads for Sam to go find a woman, and settle down and have kids. Go back to Stanford. It’s possible. Sam promises he will try, and that he will pray often.

Castiel takes Dean’s hand and vanishes. The veil is shadows and daylight mixing together, like oil and water. Mixing but never becoming one. Dean holds Castiel’s hand tightly, fingers laced. Castiel steps through a very certain strand of daylight. Dean covers his eyes when it becomes too bright.

They’re at Bobby’s. It takes Dean a single moment to blink and look around. Ellen comes from the kitchen, stirring something in a pot.

“Heya, boys. Just in time for supper.”

That night, Castiel holds Dean close. Dean let’s him. After all, they’re stuck in a piece of Heaven where no one dies, aches, or bleeds. Despite Dean’s healthy bones, Castiel still caresses Dean’s body just like before.

Nowhere Near Done | Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, NSFW gifs (not mine), Dirty Talk, Dom/Sub hints.

Words: 1262


“Alright, guys,” I exclaimed, walking into the library where the brothers are waiting for me, “do I look like a real, sophisticated FBI agent?” I twirled dramatically.

Dean and Sam both stood, eyes large and mouths hanging at the jaw. I felt my cheeks heat up at their reactions.

“Geez guys, you’re gonna catch flies! C’mon we got work to do!” I shouted over my shoulder as I pranced outside.

Sam and I managed to get seated without fighting over shotgun, as I had gotten to the seat first. This hunt is only supposed to take a few days, to my relief. Dean and I hadn’t had any time alone for weeks. It’s just been back to back to back hunt and now here we were with another.

It wasn’t like I needed sex to survive, I needed Dean to survive. His touch, his body, his heat. So, today I plan on playing a little game. How worked up can I get Dean?

“Okay,” Sam said from the backseat, nose shoved into his journal of notes, “so it says here that the victims had their hearts ripped out and ‘claw-like like marks’ on the rest of their bodies.”

“So a werewolf?” I asked, turning my head to face Sam, placing my hand on Dean’s upper thigh for support. I noted the way Dean stiffened as the car swerved softly. A smirk playing on my lips, I continued my conversation with Sam, tracing patterns on Dean’s slack-clad thigh.

“Yea, looks like this is going to be an easy one this time.” Sam said with a smile, settling back in the bench seat.

“Mmm, good.” I said softly as I turned around, leaning into Dean’s side, letting my hand run higher up his leg.

“Y’know, Dean,” I whispered softly, nipping at his earlobe, “I’ve been aching to get back to the bunker. Miss you baby.”

“You’re killing me, princess.” He muttered softly, shooting me a stern look, as if to tell me I need to stop teasing.

“You going to get hard for me, Dean? Right here in the front seat? Sam’s in the back, y’know? And he’s got no idea how hard your cock is going to get.” I slipped my hand between his legs, cupping his crotch softly as he twitched against my palm. He let out a growl under his breath, “You’re on thin ice, little girl.”

“Oh yea’? What are you going to do? Throw me over your knee right in front of Sam?” He stayed silent, eyes glaring down the road. I let out a breathy laugh, letting go of Dean’s leg.

When we arrived at the morgue, the town police filled us in on the gory details of the killings before we were escorted to the bodies. Just as Sam had said, the bodies looked almost like pulled pork. Absolutely shredded.

Seeing my chance to be the smart alec I always was, I leaned up to Dean’s ear, “Looks like this one couldn’t wait to sink its claws into something…mmm…sounds like someone else I know.” I dragged my fingers lightly down his back, my nails snagging the fabric ever so slightly. Dean only twitched his nose in response.

The week seemed to move in slow motion. Every time we thought we had found a break in the case, signaling that we may get to leave early and go home, something managed to drag us knee deep back in paper trails and interviews. The receptionist at the police station got a little too close to Dean, leaving one-too-many buttons open on her blouse, wearing some slutty lipstick and attempting a sultry voice that I could see right through. Naturally I had to backhand the bitch, leading to me being escorted out of the station with a firm scolding an a threat to report me to my supervisor. Ha! I hope Bobby gets a call informing him that I pimp slapped a slut.

I spent the rest of the case (and the ride home, of course) winding Dean up, feather light touched and soft comments and moans in his ear. By the time we made it back to the bunker Dean all but dragged me to our bedroom. His firm grip on my upper arm had me grinning like a child getting candy for dinner.

“Go on,” He purred, shoving my towards the bed, “strip brat.” He locked and then proceeded to lean against his door, waiting and watching with trained eyes. Once I was bare I went to get on my hands and knee on the mattress, as I always did when Dean wes angry with me.

“No.” He commanded, “On your back, spread your legs.”

I did as I was told without question, I trusted my lover with my entire being.

He walked forward slowly, his shoulders squared, jaw clenched. He climbed between my legs, pulling my ankles roughly until I was close enough to him. He laced his fingers with mine with one hand, the other raised, coming down harshly on my clit.

I felt my back arch, a pleasured sound bubbling from my chest, Dean had never spanked me here. Never made me feel this way. I whimpered softly when he repeated his actions.

“You like your punishment, don’t you princess? You’re precious little pussy must just be aching to be touched. You’ve been a little brat all week, why should I even fuck you? I could just fuck your throat and leave you here, all hot and wet and desperate.”

“N-no Dean! Please! I-I’ll be a good girl I promise. No more teasing. I can’t go without your cock, Dean, please.” I squealed, his fingertips lingering on my clit after the following strike.

He dragged the tip of his nose up my neck and jaw, nipping at the sheen flesh as he went.

“Alright, baby girl. I suppose just this once I can let it slide,” Another slap to my pulsating clit, “but you ever try that again I won’t fuck you for a week.”

He pulled back, peeling his clothes off and situation himself between my legs, tossing them high on his hips.

He leaned down to press his lips to mine in a chaste kiss, “You ready, baby doll?” His voice barely above a whisper as he searched my face for a sign of consent. I nodded quickly, already curling my limbs against his, waiting for him.

He slammed into be without hesitation, no buildup, no warning, just honest, rough fucking. He groaned about me as his hips rolled over and over into my welcoming pussy. The room was filled with obscenities, the unfiltered cursed escaping our lips, the sound of flesh pounding against flesh, and of course the sound of my all too welcoming channel practically sucking Dean back inside me.

“Dean, baby please, wanna come so bad!” I whined, my lips trembling, he trailed his hand down my side, pressing three fingers firmly against my clit, moving in wide circles.

“Then do it baby. Gonna fill you up with come anyways. You want that, huh? My hot come filling this pretty, pink, little, tight pussy?”

“Y-yes, Dean!!!” I begged, my channel tightening as I released. Dean was soon to follow, filling and quickly overfilling my with his own climax. He slowed his pace as he softened, falling to my side, pulling my against his chest.

After a few minutes I went to get up and grab us some clean underwear only to be stopped my Dean’s arms curling around my waist,

“Oh, no, baby girl. We’re nowhere near done.”


Tagged: @blood-on-roses 

What’s Yours is Mine

Summary: Sam and Dean enjoy sharing each other’s clothes.

Warning: Smut, blow jobs, anal sex

Word Count: 3150

A/N: I enjoyed writing this request so much! Hope you all like it, too! XOXO


Sam’s been wearing Dean’s hand-me-down clothes since he was born. In every one of Dean’s childhood memories, he can see Sam wearing his old clothes, sleeves too long, waistbands too loose, stray threads sticking out at the seams.

But when Sam hits puberty, they start fitting almost perfectly. Sam’s a little skinnier than Dean, but it never really shows in the clothing. Proper fit didn’t stop Sam from hating them, though.

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I Dare You

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean and the Reader have a little game while working a case. 

Word Count: 997

Warnings: Fluff, Suggestive Content (only like a confetti amount)

Author’s Note: Heyy guys! This is my entry for @curliesallovertheplace‘s Celebration challenge! I got the prompt: “Plays Truth or Dare”. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is always welcomed!! *hides face*



“Truth or Dare?”

I rolled my eyes and folded my leg under me, waiting patiently for Principal Carter to come and speak to us. I looked over at Dean and sighed.

“We’re supposed to be working a case,” I stated coolly. “And besides, I’m not talking to you.”

Dean scoffed. “You’re talking to me right now.” When I didn’t say anything he sighed and leaned over his chair, pulling my chair toward him. “Are you seriously gonna be mad at me?”

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To The End of Time

SPN FanFic

~Dean picks up the pieces after a devastating accident~

Dean x Reader, Sam

2,600 Words

Warnings: Angst. Death. Blood. Implied Sexual Activity. Mostly just Dean Angst.

A/N: This is my entry for @butiaintgonnaloveem Baby’s Big 50 Writing Challenge! My song prompt was Meatloaf’s ‘Paradise By The Dashboard Light’. I went in a totally different direction than I had originally planned, I hope you like it… 

For the first two days he did nothing. Bruised and concussed, Dean sat on a stool in the garage staring at the wreckage.

Sam checked on him every few hours. He brought him food at mealtimes and cold beers now and then that sat at his feet untouched. He didn’t bother him; Dean was grieving. Sam had seen it before, but this time it was worse. He didn’t speak, refused to look up when Sam entered the room. Gone was the brave front, the placations that so often peppered the elder Winchester’s vocabulary. He wasn’t fine, so he didn’t say it. Sam kept a watchful eye, but he left Dean alone to do what he had to do.

On the evening of the second day, Dean got up; he legs protested with the sudden movement and his muscles twitched, reminding him with each step of the trauma. He ignored the pain and set to work, silently walking around his Baby, deciding where best to start. His hands passed over the hood, dipping into the fresh dents; his fingers catching on the mangled metal that stuck out at odd angles.

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Already Occupied

Request from anon for a Jax x Reader where reader is Chibs’ niece and she really likes Jax even though he’s with Tara. Includes Tig x Reader friendship too :)

Originally posted by nikitassoul

“Do you think he’ll ever see me as more than just a kid?” You sip your glass of whiskey as you sit cross legged on Tig’s bed, one of your late night chats taking place.

Tig was one, maybe the only one, who knew of your gigantic crush on Jax. You could tell your best friend anything, and he knew you too well to be able to miss your feelings for the blonde biker. But all you seemed to be to Jax was Chibs’ kid niece, young and childish.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” Tig says honestly as he leans against the head board, his legs outstretched as he nurses his own glass. “What I do know, though, is that you’ll never get your answer unless you tell him how you feel.”

You smile warmly in response, the gesture not meeting your eyes. Sighing deeply, you shake your head, taking a gulp of the amber liquid. “No point, Tiger. He’s loved Tara all his life.”

“Maybe, but the cracks are showing baby girl, and now is your time to shine if there was ever one.” You deliberate the statement in your mind as you’ve done many times before, even though deep down, you know you’ll never tell Jax how you feel.

The door to Tig’s room gets thrown open, the action catching you off guard as you jump. Your eyes widen as you see Tara standing there, the look on her face telling you she’s heard the whole conversation.

“I fucking knew it.” she seethes, you pushing yourself to stand up, ready just incase she tries to attack. She storms towards you, your empty glass dropping onto the bed. “I’ve been trying to warn him about you for months, but he just can’t see it.”

“Are you for real right now? If there’s anyone he needs to warned about its you.” You see Tig get up out of your peripheral vision, giving you space to stand up for yourself but also ready to stop the two of you from clawing each other to pieces.

Her anger turns to humour as she laughs in your face, the cocky smile on her lips something you’re just itching to scratch off. “I’m only gonna tell you once, so listen up. Jax is mine, he loves me. You’re just a desperate, worthless bitch.”

You don’t even realise you’ve slapped her until you feel the sting on your palm, her hand flying to her cheek to cradle her reddened skin. Your eyes flicker to Tig, a proud look on his face as he winks at you.

You can’t rest for long before Tara delivers a slap of her own, you swinging a punch in return as she falls to the floor. Before you know it, you’re both on the floor, the two of you shouting in anger as you fight.

You’re too busy seeing red to notice Tig come behind you, only realising he’s there when he drags you off of Tara, Jax pulling her roughly off the floor as you both try to escape from your captors. “What the fuck is going on?!”

You stop resisting Tig as Jax shouts, a stressed and confused expression on his face as he looks between you and your opponent. You place your hand on top of Tig’s as it rests on your waist, knowing you’re going to need his support before Tara even speaks.

“She’s fucking obsessed with you, that’s what!” Tara shouts, shoving Jax away from her. You feel like you might puke as you stand there, your big secret out in the open. “I questioned her about it and she attacked me!”

“I wouldn’t say calling me a worthless bitch is questioning me, but whatever floats your boat.” you spit sarcastically, ignoring Jax’s burning gaze. She lunges for you again, your clenching fist unneeded as Jax grabs her swiftly, yanking her backwards.

“Out, now!” he orders, leaving no room for refusal. Tara stares at him in shock, unable to comprehend that he’s talking to her. She scoffs, shrugging his grip on her away.

“Fuck you, Jax. I’m too good for this shit.” You look down at your feet at her words, feeling guilty for being partly to blame for their argument.

“Give us a minute, Tig.” You swallow nervously at Jax’s request, Tig removing himself from you. He looks at you for reassurance, not wanting to leave unless you’re okay with it. “I’m not mad, (Y/N).”

Relief floods you, your attention flickering to Jax’s pleading eyes before you nod at Tig, squeezing his arm as thanks before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Is it true?” Jax asks, breaking the tense silence. You stare at your feet as you nod in confirmation, a sigh leaving Jax’s lips. You watch as he sits on the edge of the bed, his hands running over his face as he tries to take in the new found information.

You shuffle on your feet awkwardly as he stares at the wall, brow furrowed as he thinks deeply. He shuffles over, tapping the space next to him, you complying as you shuffle over and sit down.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You roll your eyes, chuckling humourlessly as you pick a loose thread on your jeans.

“What would’ve been the point?” you ask quietly, not being able to look at Jax as he sits so closely, his eyes watching you as he waits for you to continue. “All I am to you is Chibs’ niece. Plus, you have Tara.”

“Had. I had Tara. I ended it just before you went all Jackie Chan.” he teases, nudging your body with his. You smile, shaking your head as you nudge him back, enjoying the closeness.

“I hope you’re not expecting me to say that I’m sorry to hear that. No offence but I kinda hate her.” Jax laughs at your honesty, his sparkling eyes meeting yours, your lungs feeling empty at the little distance between the two of you.

You force yourself to be realistic, smiling sadly at the biker. “Don’t worry, you can save the whole ‘I wanna be friends’ speech. I wasn’t expecting you to return my feelings.”

You stand up quickly, walking over to Tig’s chair and retrieving your jacket, tears prickling at your eyes as you try to resist breaking down. “I should be going anyway.”

You spin around, your eyes wide in shock as you see Jax lean down, his hands grabbing your face as he kisses you. You don’t respond at first, not sure whether you’re dreaming, until you realise this is real life and oh my god Jax Teller is kissing you.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you kiss him back, his lips feeling nothing short of incredible as they move against your own. Your jacket is forgotten as you drop it to the floor, your hands moving to grip his biceps as his tongue slips into your mouth, your core tingling at the feeling.

Only when you’re completely breathless do you pull away, Jax resting his forehead against yours as the two of you struggle to breathe. You grip his shirt between your fingers, not wanting him to move and ruin the moment.

“We should do that more often.” you say, Jax smirking before he places his lips to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you as he hugs you.

“Sorry it took me so long.”

A/N - Wasn’t sure how I wanted to go about this but I’m pretty happy with how it came out!!! Thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated ❤

Heat of The Moment

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean

Summary: It’s Sam’s birthday and you have a little surprise

Words: 1,657

Warnings: Smut, male receiving, female receiving, unprotected sex, whipped cream, aggressive!sam

Originally posted by bringmesomepie56

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Curse

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: Sam’s taking on the trials, despite you and Dean begging him not to. You’re there for him at his weakest, and you take it upon yourself to make a decision for the three of you.

Word Count: 1,416

Warnings: angst, trials!Sam, implied smut

A/N: Written for @impala-dreamer and @idreamofhazel‘s 1k/2k challenge! My prompt was “I’m just trying to take this - this curse… and make something good out of it. Because I have to.” It’s also bolded in the fic.


Originally posted by samwinchesterappreciation

Gunshots rang out through the hall of the bunker, making you jump and stub your toe on the leg of the table where you sat in the library.

“Damn it, Sam!” You clutched your foot and stood up, stomping toward the underground range. “Sam!” You called out, as another shot echoed from the door. “Sam?” A loud thud followed the metallic sound.

Throwing the door the rest of the way open, you scrambled toward Sam’s massive crumpled form, essentially just a heap of unwashed clothing on the floor. Your legs tucked under his head as you cradled his face in your hands.

“Sam… Sammy, c’mon. Wake up.” Tears slipped out of your eyes and fell onto his forehead, so you wiped them away quickly before leaning down and kissing the droplets from his skin. 

A soft groan escaped his lips as his eyelids fluttered open. Bloodshot, but still incredibly beautiful hazel irises peered up at you. 

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Heat and Lightning

Destiel + what about one where dean and cas have been crushing on each other for ages. One night, Sam has a party, where they both get invited without knowing the other is going to be there too, with pining and crushing and awkward blushing and all the good stuff | requested by @jimminovak

~1,700 words | College AU, fluff, getting together, awkward blushing

[AO3]


Sam had begged Dean to go with him to the party. He’d turned his nose up at going somewhere with a bunch of students who he wanted nothing to do with. Who even wants their big brother at a party with them?

Dean enters the house, following Sam through the door, he can hear some music going but it’s not that loud and there’s not even that many people here. Dean narrows his eyes at his brothers back.

When they enter the lounge area, Dean realises that this isn’t even a party… it’s a fucking get together. Dean scans the people in the room, all of Sam’s friends. Why does he even need to be here, Sam’s not eight anymore.

Then his eyes land on a dark-haired head, sat with his back to Dean.

Oh. Oh no.

“Sam!” Dean hisses. Sam spins round and gives his brother a smile like he’s completely fucking innocent and Dean hates him so much right now.

“Yeah,”

“You said this was a party. Not some nerdy get together.”

“I wanted you to come okay.”

“But he’s here.” Dean looks pointedly over to the darker haired guy, who still (thankfully) hasn’t turned around to see who’s entered the room.

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Just Me, Coffee, & My Big Mouth

Originally posted by subcas

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

Characters- Sam x Reader, Mary
Summary- You can’t leave it alone, so you have to say your piece. All you can do is hope she’ll listen, and that Sam won’t be too upset.
Word Count- 1,620
Warnings- mild cursing? Also kind of calling Mary out a little on her bs about “needing space”.
A/N- This is for Hazel & Dreamer’s 1k/2k ‘Sammy Says’ Writing Challenge! My prompt was “I mean, what if there’s something…not natural?” I’m sorry it’s a little late, ladies but I hope you enjoy!


You know you shouldn’t be here, and yet you are. If Sam knew, you were sure he’d tell you to leave it be. He’d tell you that it ‘doesn’t matter’. Like hell it matters, you think. You knew it mattered to him. To Dean, too. They were your broken little family and if you could do anything to fix it, you would.

That’s why you were in Oregon. Tracking the phone hadn’t been that hard- the tricky part was setting up the meeting in the old diner to look like coincidence. You angled yourself just right, right at the bar where you knew she’d sit and waited. It wasn’t long until she showed, blonde hair curled nicely and clothes not too unlike what you were wearing. You watched her out of the corner of your eye, her eyes tripping over your own figure before she beelined toward you. You act nonchalant, pushing yourself to act natural.

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To Break An Omega [Pt. 1]

Summary: You were supposed to go home with Dean and have a movie marathon, but due to your boss, those plans will just have to wait.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Beta!Sam

A/N: So I’ve had this idea for a while now and I fall in love with it a little more each time I think about it, but be warned, your heart will hurt. Look at that beautiful man known as Dean Winchester… jesus.

Tags: @andtheraincamefalling

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, violence, angst, SPN swearing, verbal and physical abuse, mentions of blood, angst, Dean being a sweetheart towards the end, did I mention angst?


Hunting was a lifestyle, that was no contest, but there were moments between cases where you got to be a civilian. You didn’t pretend like you had a white picket fence - you knew damn well that was just a lie - but you could pretend, just for a few hours, that you didn’t hunt monsters; you didn’t have a trunkful of weapons; you didn’t have a bloody past.

And in those moments, if you weren’t with the boys, you were at the animal shelter. People were fine, but animals were better. They didn’t want to know your life story, they just wanted to be loved. And in some distant part of your brain, you truly believed if you couldn’t help people, help animals. In some ways, the thought helped you cope with a bad hunt.

You shake your head as you fill Max’s bowl with kibble. He wags his tail, happily shuffling between his front paws. You rub his ears. “Such a good boy, huh Max?”

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Baby

I wrote Sam smut. I needed to cleanse myself with some Dean.

Side note, congrats Michelle! I’ve been a big fan of yours for a while (fuck, just check my fic recs tag), and I’m so happy for you!

Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Challenge: @luci-in-trenchcoats 2k Follower Challenge x
Words: 630
Summary:
Dean’s really protective of his baby
Warnings: Some swearing, because I can’t control myself
Prompt: New rule. You steal my Baby, you get punched.

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Fragments - Part 10

Word Count: 1780

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff 

A/N: Hey look I kept it short.

Feedback and constructive criticism always welcome

Fragments Masterlist


“Cas? What’d you find?” Cas stormed into the bunker, looking grimmer than you’d seen in some time. He’d stormed into Heaven, checking out leads on your soul and if it could possibly be in the cage.

“Lucifer wasn’t lying.” Cas said. Dean was instantly by your side, lacing your fingers together. “The angel that grabbed you when you ran from them was one of Metatron’s followers.” Cas explained. “He had strict instructions from Metatron that if you acted out in anyway to throw you in the cage. Got the instruction manual on how to do it from a tablet.”

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Tape Hiss

Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector

Characters - Dean x Reader, Sam
Summary - He does what he thinks is for the best. What was best for her. But what he’s really doing is running away, and you can’t run forever.
Word Count - 1,383
Warnings - Language.
A/N - My apologies for the lateness! This is what happens when you think you’ve queued something for a specific day, and tumblr decides to mess with you.

This is part of @iwantthedean’s Two Prompt Oneshot Writing Challenge- I got the prompt: “I can’t sleep without you." I’ve combined it with a songfic request for ‘Redemption’ by Frank Turner by @ofloveandlonging. Hope you enjoy!


He didn’t look her in the eyes when he said it. The lie was bitter enough rolling off his tongue, and he was sure she’d see it in his eyes if he’d looked at her.

The night was cold, snow drifting to the ground all around him as his hands gripped the steering wheel hard. His knuckles were as white as the snow. As mile markers flew past, the deep dark pit in his stomach only grew. This was for the best. That’s what he kept telling himself as he drove, anyway. He wasn’t good enough for her anyway. He was beyond screwed up, and she deserves better. Better than some idiot with a GED, a few bucks to his name, and a short lifespan. She was in the life, sure, but those around the Winchesters never live long.

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Dean pushed the motel room door open to find you exactly where he left you. You had refused to participate in the hunt the boys were currently working because it hit too close to home. You also had no fucking desire to talk about it with either of the Winchesters but especially Dean.

“There are locks on motel room doors for a reason, asshats,” you grumbled, turning over in the bed and facing away from the brothers. You caught a glimpse of Sam’s face, and he looked guilty, like he actually felt bad for breaking into your room.

Dean on the other hand just looked angry. You didn’t owe him any kind of an explanation. If you wanted to sit out a hunt, it was your damn prerogative.

“Sammy, I got this,” Dean said through clenched teeth. You could briefly hear Sam protest, but you were sure Dean had given him a look that could kill because you heard the younger Winchester’s response.

“Fine,” he huffed stepping away and heading back to the room the boys were sharing.

Dean closed the door with a thud.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice low and irritated.

“I swear to god, Dean, I don’t want to talk about it. Especially not with you. You push this, and I might literally rip your nut sack off. Right off,” you motioned with your hand without turning to look at him. You felt a tear escape your eye, and you hurried to wipe it away.

“First off all, rude. Second of all, I know you,” he growled low in his throat. “Hunts don’t bother you. Even the awful ones that remind you of how you lost your family. You’re tough as nails. You push everything down and power on. You’re a pro. I’d almost say you’re better at pushing away emotions than I am, and we both know that’s saying something.”

“You got that fucking right,” you huffed as you turned away from him again, tears steadily streaming down your face now. “Did you at least finish off the fucker?” you asked, hoping this hunt was over so that you could move on and get back to yourself without having to talk about it.

He sat down on the bed next to yours and watched you carefully.

“The Djinn is dead,” he stated. “Now are you gonna talk about this or what? You never refuse to go on a hunt. Ever. What the hell is going on?”

You sat up then, throwing your legs over the bed, the tear stains on your face evident. Dean was clearly taken aback. He rubbed his neck and looked away briefly before locking eyes with yours and pushing forward.

“Let’s talk about it. Clearly you need to, sweetheart,” he said, his voice suddenly softer now.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Don’t placate me Dean. And don’t call me sweetheart,” you growled, finally meeting his eyes.

“What’s going on?” he pleaded, leaning forward, his forearms on his knees. “Is this about when you were captured by a Djinn, and we couldn’t find you for a few days? You never talked about that, but I had never seen you so scared,” Dean commented. “But you never let a monster getting a hold of you phase you. Ever,” Dean said dismissively.

You swallowed thickly and locked eyes with him. “When that monster takes away the person you love over and over again, you aren’t too keen on facing one of its kind again.” The words stumbled out of your mouth.

“Djinn don’t work like that. I remember. You get your wildest dreams,” Dean stated, confused.

“Not the one that had me. Fear. It fed on fear. And apparently my biggest fear is losing you. I watched you die over and over again those few days I was alone, waiting,” tears fell down your cheeks in earnest.

“Wait. What?” Dean asked, confused. “I don’t understand,” he mumbled, fidgeting with his pants because he didn’t know what else to do.

“I fucking love you, Dean, but don’t figure it out from the context clues or anything,” you huffed, pulling your knees up to your chest and sobbing. “I couldn’t risk getting taken again. Fears or the best dream ever, it would have involved you,” you admitted, looking into his eyes. “I couldn’t lose you over and over again,” you powered on. “And I couldn’t have you in the best way possible only to have it ripped away when you came to my rescue,” you sobbed.

Dean’s legs moved quickly, and he sat down beside you. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, and you fell into him. You cried. You cried for what felt like hours while Dean ran his fingers through your hair and rubbed your back soothingly.

“I didn’t know,” he mumbled. It was then that you realized Dean had been crying too. “I had no fucking clue,” he whispered as you pulled away to look into his eyes. Your eyes met for a brief second before his lips crashed to yours. You clung to him, the kiss desperate and deep, your tears mixing with his. He pulled away finally and whispered, “I’m so, so sorry.”

His hand cupped your face and you didn’t jerk away from his touch.

“I’ve always loved you, but you deserve better than me,” he said.

You laughed as you sobbed. “I may ‘deserve’ better, Dean, but you’re what I want. Obviously. Dreams and fears don’t lie,” you whispered as you looked into his eyes.

His eyes darted back and forth as he searched yours. His lips found yours again, this kiss tender and full of promise. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips. “And I’m going to my best to make sure your dreams aren’t torn away from you again and that your fears are never realized,” he promised, his forehead falling against yours.

“Dean, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you answered, your hand moving to his neck and pulling him into a kiss. You felt him start to protest, but he melted into your touch.

You didn’t doubt he could make your dreams come true, but staying alive wasn’t exactly Dean Winchester’s forte.

And he had the Mark of Cain.

You knew that couldn’t end well for either of you.

Invisible, Chapter Twenty One

Summary: Cursed as a child, you have lived your entire life invisible and alone. When deaths start happening in your town, the Winchesters come rolling in to investigate. What will happen when Dean is the first one who has been able to see you since you were a kid? Will Sam believe that you’re real? Will Dean believe you when you tell him you haven’t killed anyone? And why, after all of this time, is Dean Winchester the only one who can see you?

Invisible Masterlist - Previous Chapter

word count: ~2000

warnings: SMUT! WOOHOO! first time, fingering, unprotected sex

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Say I Love You...

Fandom: Supernatural.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Y/N finds herself stricken with grief over Dean’s self-loathing; meanwhile, the elder Winchester is trying to come to terms with a newfound revelation of his feelings and how he can voice them out.

Warnings: Dean finding it hard to voice out his feelings, fluff, maybe a bit of angst?? Not entirely.

A/N: Will probably be making this into a series because I’m a sucker for Dean.

The idea was born out of me watching a few fanvids with our favorite hunter which show just how much he has been through. I mean, both Winchester’s have had to deal with a lot of crap, but my soft spot for Dean is what drove me to writing this.

Enjoy!

~*~*~*~

The room is dead silent.


Save for the sound of hush snores and breaths and the whisper of window through vents and into the motel. Outside the sky spread across the city of Atlanta in a blanket of onyx, clusters of stars dotting it. Y/N lies still in her bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, trying to tame the inner turmoil in her chest. Beside her the sheets shift. Dean says something, something about going to wash up before Sam wakes up, but she doesn’t quite catch him.


“Y/N!” he calls, snapping her from her reverie.


The young girl turns to him, head lolling against the pillow. “Yeah?”


“I said you should probably, too, since we still have some time.” She can’t see his face hidden in the pitch dark; she can’t see anything but the silhouette of the elder Winchester sitting up, his hair a disheveled mess atop his head.


“I should probably what?”


“Wash up?” He says it like its obvious. But Y/n doesn’t reply. Only continues staring at him, wide eyes, the light from the moon cast down on her face through the window—and the elder Winchester obviously notices this. Y/N spots a shift in his demeanor: attentive. Concerned. Even if she can’t see them, she guesses the elder Winchester’s eyes soften as he reaches out, touching her bare shoulder.


“Y/N,” Dean speaks. “You okay?”


“You’re an amazing person, you know that?” She blurts out.


The room silences once more.


Between them hangs a surprised quiet. Y/N is still on her back, still hazy-minded and emotional and fighting a hurricane raging in her chest. She can feel it bubble up her throat, spreading through her lungs, suffocating her. Soon she won’t be able to breathe. Soon, in this dim-lit and quiet room perfumed with her emotions, she will turn blue-faced and asphyxiated, because it’s too much.


He’s too much.


He is selfish, and yet altruistic; he is stern and authoritative, as disciplined as a soldier, but kind; Dean is self-sacrificial and generous and swollen with love and yet such despondent and negative emotions picked up as souvenirs from the life he has had to live . He is human, and a paradox in itself and Dean is good and Dean has always been good…


And it hurts Y/N to know that he doesn’t see this…


A moment ago, as she’d lay in his embrace,  having to listen to him tear himself down; berate his image, hate himself because of a hunt gone bad. Two teenagers whose parents were vampires. They hadn’t managed to stop them and the kids died, and Dean was mourning his failure and the loss of two innocents. Y/N listened attentively to him as he’d spoke, and felt a wound in her heart coming undone. She feels tears brimming at her eyes just looking at him, at this man who doesn’t feel the way she does about him. This man who sees himself as a completely polar opposite of the reality. Y/N has known Dean for a long time, and she knows what he thinks of himself, what he wrongly assumes he is, and it hurts her.


For he has done so much for her, he has proven his own assumptions wrong and been her light in the dark of their lives, and all she wants is to do the same for the man she loves.


“What?” Dean asks in a hushed tone. She sniffles. There are tears beginning to roll down her face and she’s pretty sure he can see them from the way the light shines through the window.


“I said…” Y/N starts. “That you are an amazing human being, Dean Winchester. You—you are…good, and genuine, and you are my best friend. It hurts me to know that you don’t see this in yourself.”


“Y/N….” Dean tries to speak, but she cuts him off.


“No, okay? …”


“I didn’t save them.” He says sternly. “I could have, but I didn’t and now they’re dead. Don’t try and make me feel better for not doing my job.”


“But you tried—dammit, Dean, you tried. You did your best and your heart was in the right place.” She sniffles, rubbing her palm across her burning eyes. God, she hates this—hates herself for letting it come to the point where she’s in tears, but that’s just how strongly she feels about this matter. “Dean, I’m telling you now—you are a good man. Stop beating yourself up over this, over everything. I’ve known you for what—five? Six years? I know that me telling you this might be useless, but…..”


Y/N bites her lip, trying to level her voice. Between them hangs a deafening silence, ominous, painful. Dean is crying, she soon realizes. Quiet, pained tears that she only knows about when she hears his breath wobble as inhales.


Sitting up, she shifts and moves closer to the elder Winchester, pulling him in. His head rests in the crook of her neck, and she feels him shudder—vulnerable. Dean never lets anyone see him vulnerable, but maybe he should, because the weight he carries on his shoulders is too much not to.


The elder Winchester gulps thickly. “Y/n…”


“It’s okay….”She whispers, cradling his head to her chest, tears running down her cheeks, and the green-eyed hunter sniffles, and his tears touch her skin and it takes all of Y/n’s strength to not shatter.


Dean.


Always good.


Leaning back against the headboard, she brings the elder Winchester’s head to rest on her shoulder and he lets her in the quiet. The night drawls on—they stay like that. Together; quiet; feeling. Y/N cards her fingers through his hair as he sleeps, and when he stirs a bit  she stops. Her hand floats from his head and rests beside the pillow.


                                                     ~*~*~*~


Morning breaks with a burst of light beaming into the motel room and onto the two hunters. Y/N is awake, still holding Dean as she had been through the entire night, still drunk off his kisses and her emotions.


Tilting her head, she peers down at him. His eyes are shut and his breath fans against her bare skin, tickling it. “Dean?” She whispers, tentative and hush and desperate to not shatter the intimacy around them. “Are you awake?”


She waits for a response that doesn’t come, until the elder Winchester lets out an incoherent mumble, and then lolls his head to the side lazily.


His eyes flutter open as Y/N’s face splits into smile, and she continues her strokes on his hair. “Morning.”


“Did you stay up all night?” Dean asks, and she nods. “Why? I could have managed without you watching over me while I slept.”


“I wanted to.” Y/N shrugs, smoothing out stubborn strands of sandy-hair that stick up in all directions. She says it so easy, like she’s telling him her hobby, like it’s his hobby too. Like the previous night they hadn’t made love and she hadn’t pulled him out of the pit of his melancholy.


And Dean looks at her, right here, right now—really looks at her.


At her eyes and the rim of y/e/c embellished with flecks of gold, at hers lips and her ears and the wrinkles and creases drawn out in her tired skin, telling her story. Their story. They’ve been together for so long, now. Have been through so much, and the scars and blemishes and cuts and bruises painting Y/N’s skin matching Dean’s is enough of an alibi.


They’ve spent years together. It feels like a lifetime. And Dean loves that, and he loves her, and he wouldn’t trade anything for it because….He…loves her.


He has loved Y/N for years and he will continue to love her.


The realization is sudden and daunting. Out of nowhere, the green-eyed hunter’s heart begins to race, and his palms begin to sweat and he’s panicking, God, he’s panicking because Dean loves her.


And she loves him.


They leave the motel within the next hour once Sam arrives. Y/N runs a quick shower then brushes her teeth and Sam tells them about the vampire nest he took out. Dean pretends to listen even though he isn’t. He can’t. He’s ruminating over this new earth-shattering realization.


They’ve been dating for months; they’ve been sleeping in the same bed. They’ve been touching—God, they’ve been touching—but it is only now that his heart has chosen to drop this bombshell on his. This feeling; this plague.


Love.


What is to him? What can it be for the two them? All this time being with Y/N, Dean has avoided the thought. But the truth is the truth—it’s been lurking in the back of his mind, nudging at his conscience, asking his what if; what if it’s possible, what if he’s the one, and now all these questions are answered.


They sit in the car and begin to drive. The entire journey is spent with their fingers intertwined as Dean drives and his heart a mangled mess hammering in his chest. Y/N and Sam are laughing and talking about the hunt and Cas. He’s waiting for them at home, apparently, but Dean can’t bring himself to care about anything right now, because God, this is torture.


“Feeling okay?” Y/N asks him. The elder Winchester casts  a brief glance at her, taking his eyes off the road.


“Just tired.” He answers, nodding. Lying.


But Y/n doesn’t push. Instead, she gives him a sad smile, squeezes his hand in hers, and Dean has to resist from swerving off the road.


Disintegrated.


His entire body feels electric and like its buzzing when they get home. He kills the engine and Sam and Y/N hoist their things onto their backs and clamber out, making their way into the house.  Dean follows suit.


In the library, Castiel sits in waiting, and then rises once he hears the sound of footsteps. They say their hellos. Dean gives him a hug—he’s truly happy to see him—, they exchange pleasantries, and then he retreats into his room, his alibi being that he’s not feeling good.


When he’s alone, finally, the elder Winchester shuts the door behind him and then leans against it, dropping his bags onto the floor. His head tips back and his eyes shut.


Finally.


Finally alone. Finally able to gather his thoughts. The hammering in his chest has slowed, and Dean immediately strips himself of his jacket and tosses it on the bed, left in nothing but his undershirt as he goes to sit at the edge. With his head bowed, he cards his fingers through his hair.


He needs to tell her.


Soon, as soon as possible. Dean has been a hunter all his life—he knows just how fleeting life is. He knows how one minute you’re there and the next you’re not, and thinking about Y/N never getting to hear him utter those three words to her makes his heart wrench. Not only once, either.


Dean wants to say it over and over.


To chant it, to sing it—his heart feels swollen with love and a craving and a peace that comes with knowing, and he wants to proclaim that, but how? He wonders.


That’s all he can do, for now. Wonder. Think. And that’s all he does for the rest of the evening, and that’s he does when he goes to sleep, and Dean wracks his mind over and over for the confidence he needs to utter those three words to Y/N, but it seems impossible.


He wonders how she does it so easily.
~*~*~*~

This is just a reminder to all of you: Dean is an absolutely complex and imperfectly perfect and sweet human being who is just trying to work through his emotions and get through this hell of a life; please don’t forget.

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