your eyes dean

au where cas is colorblind and experiences pure color for the first time (‘with these cool glasses, cas, i saw them online’ 'im not sure about that dean’), and is fascinated by the blue sky, the red cars and berries, the golden sunlight but most of all he’s fascinated by green

his heart tightens as he sees all the colors the leaves can be, and he doesn’t understand how people can just step on grass so green and alive… he’s already tearing up until he turns around and sees a happy, beaming face and twinkling eyes with the most gorgeous array of green and gold he’ll ever see.

weak-kneed, cas takes a few steps forward, cupping dean’s face in his hands. dean looks surprised, blushes, and sam observes with a shocked smile once cas whispers a choked, shaking, “dean… your eyes.”

What if...
  • Cas: *smiles* Dean, close your eyes.
  • Dean: why???
  • Cas: Just do it.
  • Dean: No.
  • Cas: Come on.
  • Sam: *scoffs*
  • Dean: Fine *closes eyes*
  • Cas: What do you see?
  • Dean: Really? This joke, Cas?
  • Cas: What do you see Dean?
  • Dean: Blackness.
  • Cas: and?
  • Dean: uh... My eyelids.
  • Cas: Plz Dean. Just this once.
  • Dean: *sighs* fine. I see nothing.
  • Cas: *smiles really big* That's my world without you.
Don’t Flirt With Him

Word count: 2,241

Warning: smut, spanking, little bit of fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Y/N has to flirt with the most horrible and sexist man ever to get info for a case and Dean isn’t too happy about it so he shows her who she really belongs to.

The sound of Dean’s alarm woke you up and you reluctantly opened your eyes to see Dean and Sam already up and getting ready.

“Do you know what I think I like most about the bunker? Normal sleeping patterns.” Sam laughed, agreeing with you as he brushed his teeth.

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Close your eyes (Ch.2)




A/N: I could cry lol This son of a bitch took five hours to write and I don’t even know why. I am not entirely happy with it, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t bring myself to like it lol but I hope you guys enjoy. Again, this was originally a request by a lovely anon, who wanted Negan still being Negan but gentle with a first time reader.

Master List

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It would’ve been so awesome if Cas were also there and since Dean kept losing his memory he would continually hit on Cas as if he just met him I want death

Making Sure

Pairing: Dean x Reader 

Words: 1,279

A/N: Part five! I really hope you guys like it! I know the plot isn’t too “action-y” but I think the moments I’m writing about are finally ending up on the sweeter side, rather than their arguments. Also, this part is relatively longer than the other ones, so I hope that makes up for it being posted a day late! Let me know if you want a part six! 

Song: Moonlight; Ariana Grande

Part OnePart TwoPart Three - Part Four 

It was only around eight o’clock, but your eyes were falling shut. Dean watched you from the rear-view mirror as you drifted off.

“I knew the whole time, you know.” Sam said quietly, not to wake you.

“Huh?” Dean responded as he turned the wheel.

Sam smiled to himself, that small know-it-all smile, “That you liked her.”

Dean scrunched his nose; he didn’t want to push the topic but curiosity got the best of him.

“How?” He asked.

“Seriously?” Sam looked at his brother, then back at you once more to make sure you were asleep. “Let’s start with that besides you guys fighting nearly every waking moment, you always make her breakfast.”


“You get annoyed when I ask you to pass the bottle of juice.” Sam scoffed and Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh-” Sam began to add, “After every hunt, don’t think I don’t notice you checking her skin.”

“What?” Dean pressed on the gas pedal as the light turned green. Sam jerked forward at the sudden movement.

“You always check her for cuts!” He said louder than he intended, and Dean glanced at your sleeping figure quickly, “Don’t think I don’t notice you staring at her once we get back to the bunker. I mean, at first I thought you were just checking her out. But, then I realized you were looking at her arms more than her ass.” Sam said, remembering every time Dean eyed you from the other side of the room, just to be completely sure that you weren’t hurt.

“I don’t-”

“You do.” Sam said matter-of-factly.

“Whatever.” Dean huffed and finally parked back at the motel.

Sam shook his head at his brothers blatant ignorance to his own feelings. Part of him knew it was just Dean putting up a front, but another worried that he would never break down his walls.

With you being Sam’s best friend, he always worried. But he knew his brother, and his brother cared so deeply for you in a way he hadn’t seen him do in years.

Not knowing that you heard Dean confess to you the night before, he wished to himself that you knew exactly how his brother felt. He shook the thoughts out from his head as he exited the car and walked towards the motel door.

“Oh my god!” Sam heard your raspy voice shout from behind him.

“Dude!” He turned around and exclaimed at Dean, who opened the door without first tapping on the window to wake you up. With your palm pressed to the asphalt, and your head in Dean’s hands, you struggled to get back up and onto your feet.

“Nice catch.” You muttered. Little rocks from the gravel rolled off your skin as you wiped your hand against your pantsuit.

“Yeah, uh, I think this is yours.” He held up a bobby pin that must’ve fell out when he untangled his fingers from your hair.

You plucked it from his fingertips and dropped it into your pocket.

Once back in the room you asked: “Are we calling it an early night?”

In silent agreement, everyone reached for their duffels and began to sort through the mess of clothing for something to sleep in. You peeled off your suit jacket, just a thin black camisole remaining. You glanced towards the window and noticed how beautifully the moonlight poured itself through the glass.

Then, you shoved past your jeans and flannel before landing on the t-shirt you’d been wearing for what seemed like the last month. Come to think of it, all the clothing in the duffle was either worn out or completely covered in blood. “Guys?” You asked the dim room. “Is there a laundromat around here?”

Before answering, Sam furrowed his brows. “Uh… yeah. Around the corner actually.”

“Thanks.” You said quietly and slung your bag over your shoulder. Dean began to say something, but being not used to him giving you anything other than negative attention, you continued out of the door before processing that he even began to speak.

It was colder than you had anticipated; you wrapped your hands around yourself, feeling the wind wisp your hair around your shoulders as you walked.

Around which corner?, you wondered, somewhat surprised at yourself that you hadn’t asked for more detailed directions. Streetlights leaked their orange lights onto the pavement, where you watched your feet step one at a time. Eventually though, you reached the small building with the sign that read ‘Open 24/7’ and began to shove your clothes into the washing machine.

It shook your body as you leaned against it, slowly watching the seconds tick by on the clock.

“What are you doing?” A familiar voice pulled your attention towards the door.

“I should ask you,” You looked Dean up and down, “You’re in a laundromat with no clothes to wash.”

He shrugged, “Why the hell did you just leave like that?”

If that was a tone of anger you heard in his voice, you weren’t in the mood for it.

“Why do you care?” You asked, your mind wandering back to all the times he didn’t seem to give a shit about what you did and when you did it.

It was instinct to retaliate against anything he said.

He stood next to you, leaning with his ass pressed against the dryer. You pressed your chin to your shoulder, noticing the lack of space between your arm and his.

“What’s with the third degree?” He asked, a small smile playing on his face.

You sighed, “Don’t know.”

You turned to check how much time was left while Dean’s eyes trailed up and down your arm. The wound that you earned not forty-eight hours ago from the wendigo was painstakingly fresh. The stitches stuck out at odd angles, and he wondered why Sam hadn’t stitched you up. Questions raced through his mind:

Did you sew up your own skin after crying yourself dry that night?

How long was he sitting on that damn bench for?

What did your face look like, all wet and painted with pain as you pulled through stitch after stitch all by yourself?

“Dean!” You said forcefully, waving a hand in front of his face.

He snapped his head towards you, leaving whatever thoughts were encapsulating his mind.


“I said you could go back if you wanted.”

“Back?” He asked, not even thinking of leaving you.

“To the motel room.” You picked at a paint chip from the metal machine. “There’s still fourteen minutes left. Then the drying process,” You dragged out your sentence, “plus-”

“It’s fine.” He said matter-of-factly.

You tilted your head at him, trying to figure out what in hell’s name he was doing here with you. It was sobering, you slowly realized, having his presence there with nothing to argue about. 

Just him. Just, Dean.

His eyes met yours as you stood together in silence. You swore he was about to say something before his gaze dropped back down to the ground.

Seconds ticked by on the clock, and eventually you dropped your head onto his shoulder. He stiffened under the sudden movement, and you noticed. Nevertheless, you kept your head planted firmly against him. The back of his fingers grazed yours and somehow they ended up entangled.

“Could this work?” His voice was quiet, but strong.

It took you a few seconds to process what he said.

“Will you let it?” You asked, squeezing his hand unintentionally.

You felt his muscles relax underneath your head as he responded, “I’m in love with you.” He said it so simply, as if he was just discussing the weather.

You swallowed.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” You said slowly.

“It will.”

Pretty Girls

1,000 Followers Drabble

Prompt: “Please stop telling me I’m pretty.”

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Requested by: @marygracewinchester

“Stop, Dean.” You groan with your eyes closed.

“Stop what?” He chuckles.

It’s early Saturday morning and all you want to do is sleep late. Dean keeps watching you and its bugging the hell out of you.

You’re not a morning person.

“If I was awake enough I’d kick your ass, Winchester.”

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“Sweetheart, you can’t think like that.”

You shook your head, wiping your tears with your long sweater sleeves.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sniffed, pulling on your loose sweatpants to cover your thighs.

“I know how you look into a mirror, and hate what you see.”

Your eyes snapped to Dean’s, expecting to find judgement but instead seeing only understanding.

“I’m gonna do everything I can to help you out of that mindset, okay?” he said, softly, pulling you into a hug. “It might take a while, but I’m not leaving your side. We’ve got this, yeah?”

You sniffed, not yet believing yourself as you replied.

“We’ve got this.”

gif submitted by @lean-mean-dean

Submit a gif for a drabble!

Imagine exchanging Christmas gifts with your brothers.

Request: I have an idea for your Christmas fics, maybe they all exchange gifts. Like what the siblings would give each other for Christmas             

A/N: I made this into an imagine, hope you don’t mind. I also made it a young version of the Winchester family. I’ll do one when they’re older in a one-shot or something. The reader is the youngest Winchester.

25 Days of Holiday Tales Masterlist

Dean x Sister!Reader    Sam x Sister!Reader

You groggily opened your eyes as you head Dean telling Sam to wake up and felt the bed moving from Dean shaking Sam. “Whas going on Dean?” You asked as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

Dean looked over at you with a large smile on his face, “Dad came with presents for us.” He told you.

At the word ‘presents’ you sprang up, all traces of sleep gone. “Sammy! Sammy you gots ta get up! Daddy brought us Christmas!” You squealed as you shook Sam before leaping out of bed. “Oh my goodness.” You said as you placed your hands on the side of your face, “Did he bring us the tree too?”

“Yes he did!” Dean told you, joining you on the couch while Sam got out of bed. Sam looked excited as he sat down next to you on the couch.

“Dad came back? Why didn’t he wake me up?” Sam asked.

“He tried, but you were sleeping like a log. He had to get back to the hu-work.” Dean corrected himself as he eyed you to see if you had heard him, thankfully you were too entranced by the lights on the small tree to notice. Sam however had heard it and gave Dean a sad look. After sneaking into dad’s journal the night before Sam had learned the truth about everything and had so many questions for Dean, but didn’t want to ask them with you around. “So he set this all up and headed out.” Dean finished.

“What did he get me?” You asked.

“Find out for yourself.” Dean told you, handing you and Sam a present. You ripped open the paper and squealed at the sight of the streamers you pulled out. Sam opened his gift, reveling in the moment of feeling normal, however it didn’t last long because he pulled out a barbie. Giving Dean an unamused look Dean tried to save it but he knew he was found out by Sam, who kept quiet for his sister’s sake.

Sam was silent for a moment, lost in thought before his sister saying his name grabbed his attention. “I gots you something Sammy!” You said happily as you thrust a picture into his hand, “I drew it all by myself.” You stated proudly as Sam looked at the stick figure drawing of you, Dean, and Sam all standing next to the impala.

“Thanks Y/N.” Sam said sincerely as he gave her a hug.

“I gots you something too De! Gimme a second.” You told him as you went digging in your school bag.

“Here, I want you to have this.” Sam said as he reached over and grabbed the present he had wrapped the night before for his father. He handed it over to Dean who tried to refuse it but Sam insisted. Dean opened it up and was thankful for the amulet necklace that Sam had given him. After promising to never take it off you walked back over to him and thrust something into his hand.

“If you never take Sammy’s present off you have to promise to never take that outta your wallet, okay De? It’s only fair.” You informed him while sitting next to him on the couch.

Dean looked down at what you gave him and he nodded his head, “I promise kiddo. I know exactly where it’s going.”

Dean kept his promise. He never took the amulet Sam gave him that Christmas off until he threw it away after learning it was a failing device at finding God.

However still kept his promise of keeping what you gave him in his wallet. It was a picture of you, Sam, and Dean on your first day of school. The teacher had taken photos of all the students who were dropped off by their parents and she had insisted on taking the photo of your brothers dropping you off. The photo was faded and worn down from being unfolded so many times but that didn’t matter to Dean.

All that mattered was that he had a picture of his little brother when he was 7 and his baby sister when she was 5, all three of you smiling and looking like the normal children you never got to be.

The Everything Tag

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25 Days of Christmas



       You sat on this hunt’s crappy motel bed, the itchy fleece blanket scratching at the parts of your legs your annoyingly tight skirt didn’t cover, and pulled on the professional looking heels you kept in the trunk of the Impala for situations just like this. You looked up and watched as Dean stared down at his light grey sweater, pulling on the collar and frowning.

     “I look like an idiot in this thing,” Dean complained.

     You ignored the pinch of your uncomfortable shoes and got up to walk towards him, a smile pulling at your lips. “I think you look good – sort of … domestic. And huggable.”

     Dean raised his eyebrows. “You think this looks good?” he asked, punctuating his question by pointing at himself.

     You grinned and raked your eyes over Dean appreciatively, then threw your arms around his neck. “I do. In fact,” you tightened your grip, sliding your hands across his soft, sweater-clad shoulders, “I like it a lot.”

     Dean smirked and wasted no time in sliding his hands around your waist, holding you flush against him. “Well then,” his fingers slipped under your skirt’s tight waistband, “maybe I should dress like this more often.”

     You moved close enough to share breath, the extra height the heels provided making him easier to reach, and said, “Maybe you should,” your lips brushing his as you spoke. Then you closed the gap between the two of you and kissed Dean passionately, letting him know just how much you loved him, adorably dorky sweater and all. Your bottom lip dragged against his once you finally found the will power to pull away.

     “Okay, we’ve gotta go,” you said breathlessly, your forehead resting against his as you did.

     Dean groaned in protest and buried his face in the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he could manage. “Can’t we just stay here?”

     You let out a breathy laugh and pushed on your boyfriend’s broad chest, separating yourself from him no matter how much you didn’t want to. “Come on, we have lives to save,” you said. Then you walked towards the motel door, letting your skirt-accentuated hips swing just a little extra as you did.

*I made the first gif (which is why it sucks so much :p), the other one is from Google Images and not mine.*

Tags are under the cut!

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More Than Words

Here’s one of my entries for @jessica-bones-winchester‘s Dating Dean Writing Challenge!

PROMPT: Making sure he knows how much you love him
CHARACTERS: Dean Winchester, female reader, Sam Winchester
WARNINGS: All the fluff!

TAGS: @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mrs-squirrel-chester, @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog, @deandoesthingstome, @deanwinchester-af, @winchesterenthusiast, @winchesterswoonathon, @aprofoundbondwithdean, @lovemydean-o-saur, @fandommaniacx, @for-the-love-of-dean, @kittenofdoomage

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

You woke up at the insistent brush of lips over the back of your neck, dipping down across your shoulders. You smiled, burrowing deeper into the bed, sighing as the plush lips continued their journey over your skin.

“I like this wake-up call.”

Dean let out a quiet laugh, getting his hands on you and rolling you over, until you were lying on your back, looking up at him.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

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According to Plan

Originally posted by frozen-delight

Pairing: Dean x plus sized!reader
Word count: 954
Warnings: Swearing

Part 6 of Fat and Beautiful

Rolling over, your hand met a cold sheet, making you open your eyes. “Dean?” You yawned, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Babe?” Looking around, you blinked. He was nowhere to be found. Normally you were the first one up, and he woke up not long after. Pushing the blankets back, you got out of bed and stretched.

You made your way out of your shared room and through the halls looking for him. As you moved towards the kitchen, you pulled your hair up into a ponytail. Something smelled amazing, and it was making your mouth water.

“There you are.” You said softly, making him turn to look at you. “I was surprised to wake up to your side of the bed empty.” Moving closer you saw his face fall just a bit. “What’s wrong?” You asked, worried.

Dean smiled sheepishly. “I, uh, was hoping to surprise you…” He told you. “Was gonna bring you breakfast in bed. Had a tray all set, have flowers in a vase and everything.” Dean motioned to the counter behind him. Your eyes flicked between him and the tray. “Surprise.” He chuckled slightly.

Smiling, you kissed him gently. “Thank you, babe.” You said against his lips. “It smells amazing.”

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Castiel Imagine

Imagine: Trying to comfort Castiel after he has a fight with Dean.

(not my GIF)

You emerged from your room into an unusual sort of silence. You knew the boys were back from their latest adventure because Sam’s text announcing there was hot pizza in the kitchen had just woken you from a nap. Yet, somehow the bunker still seemed too quiet. Grabbing your fluffy robe from the door to stave off the chilly atmosphere, you ambled onward to the kitchen.

“Hey Y/N,” Sam greeted you with a grin over his laptop screen, “sorry I woke you.” He motioned at his hair with a wince, signaling you to check your own.

Feeling your hair, you discovered an epic case of bed head and smiled gratefully, “Don’t be, thanks.” Idly combing your fingers through your locks to tame the mess, your eyes fell upon Dean. He sat rigidly in the chair, arms crossed, brooding over half-eaten slice of pizza and bottle of beer. You glanced around the periphery of the small room – finding no sign of the blue-eyed angel you’d grown especially fond of this last year of calling the bunker home, innocently asking, “Where’s Cas?”

Sam grimaced at your words, bracing his shoulders as if for impact.

Dean’s green eyes narrowed darkly. He shrugged apathetically, voice edged in fresh anger, “Wherever the hell he wants to be, probably figuring out new ways to jam the letter I into team.”

A frown crept over your lips. A brief glance at Sam confirmed the situation – the angel and the elder Winchester were bickering, again. You now understood the strange feeling in the air. You pointed at the floor, mouthing the words to Sam, “Is Cas here?”

Sam nodded.

You exhaled a sigh of relief - the last time Cas had disappeared for weeks, failing to respond to your calls to check in. Only when you sent out a desperate prayer asking for help on a hunt, explaining Sam and Dean were otherwise indisposed and you were alone, did he make contact. He helped you with that case, and stayed by your side for a string of others. Afterward he tagged along back to the bunker with you, and things between he and Dean had been copacetic for a time.

Knowing exactly where you would find an angel seeking solitude in the bunker, you spun on your heel and marched down the hall. Descending into the storage room slash dungeon, you found him sitting on the floor, slumped against the wall, blue eyes sullen.

He didn’t stir at your presence.

You stepped closer, fuzzy-socked toes nudging the hem of his trench coat, “May I?”

His chin bobbed almost imperceptibly.

You dropped to the floor beside him, taking a deep breath and scooting nearer until your shoulder barely touched his. You sat in shared silence, knowing no words could fix what he was going through – it was between him and Dean. But you weren’t there to talk about it.

At first, the angel didn’t understand why you picked up his hand.

Slowly turning it over in yours, you delicately traced the rough-hewn lines of his palm, pausing to study the smallness of your own hand in comparison. Your heart ticked faster, emboldened by the sensation of his warm skin against your own.

He observed your actions with a casual indifference.

When he didn’t pull away, you interlaced your fingers through his, drawing his hand to your lap and clasping his palm tight. You stared hopefully at the line of his jaw, his expression remaining unreadable.

Bit by bit, his vessel responded to the comforting gesture, tenseness easing from his muscles, glimmering blue eyes flashing curiously over your intertwined hands. Gradually, his focus shifted to peer searchingly into your eyes.

You met his questioning gaze. Smiling reassuringly, you reached your free hand out to brush a dark curl behind his ear, your fingers curling to caress his stubbly cheek, “You are not alone, Castiel.”

His eyes welled at your simple sentiment, heart soaring with the novelty of a new emotion. He squeezed your hand back, a small smile stirring in his solemn features, the light returning to his eyes. For all the concepts which confounded the fallen angel, one notion blazed with sudden clarity – love.

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No Right

Originally posted by whatsupwinchester

Pairing: Winchesters x friend!Reader
Word count: 1,470
Warnings: Swearing, violence

Part 3 of Consequences

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Dean’s yelling made you both jump. Sam had been holding you, your back to his chest, his face buried in your hair as you both slept. “Really? Like a brother?!” He snapped.

You held the sheet to your chest. “Dean!” Your eyes locked with his.

Sam ran his hand through his hair. “We can explain.”

“You know what? I don’t want to fucking hear it. Both of you can go fuck yourselves.” He said before storming out.

The whole way back to the bunker, all that could be heard over the engine was Dean’s music. You silently cried, wiping your cheeks often. Wearing sweats and a hoodie, you had your knees to your chest. Your hood was up, your head back as your eyes stared out the window. Not that you even registered what was going by.

Very few words were said between the three of you after Dean stormed out. You felt sick to your stomach at your best friend hating you. How were you supposed to live with this? Hopefully he would calm down and he’d talk to you. If not, you’d have to think of your options.

As you pulled into the bunker, your chest ached, and a fresh round of tears started up. These were less silent. You said nothing as you slipped out of the car, shutting it gently behind you. You were the first one in the front door, going straight to your room to think. Him being angry with you was completely valid, and you didn’t hold it against him. Even if it hurt.

Sam watched you go and sighed. “Dean…”

“Fuck off, Sam.” He snapped, storming into the bunker, the door slamming behind him.

Shaking his head, Sam walked in behind Dean at a far more leisurely pace. He heard Dean’s door shut, the anger evident. Sam didn’t blame him one bit. He moved through the halls towards his own room. Walking in, he set his bag down and gently shut the door. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh as he heard the ‘click’.

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Fighting Tigers

Daddy Dean- Fighting Tigers

Pairings: Dean Winchester x daughter reader.

Request: From jiggysupernatural: 
“Heeey, I was wondering if I could have a daughter dean imagine?? Like, maybe they get into an argument and dean says something that upsets the reader so she goes into her room crying, then he apologises???xo And can you just make it really fluffy, I’m in great need of some daddy dean xo”

Word count: 2127

Y/N = Your Name

Y/E/C = Your eye colour

Summary: Your Dad (Dean) has been away longer then he promised whilst on a hunt. You worry about his safety but after a nightmare you overthink and believe that maybe he hasn’t come home because he doesn’t love you anymore. However, when you find your Dad being sewed up by Bobby after the nightmare you as run back to bed and away from him but he is following closely behind the to confront you on the issue. 

A/N: First of all, a big thank you to the beautiful user behind jiggysupernatural for the great request. I was unsure about doing a Daddy Dean but after help from ri-spn, (who was the one who introduced me to SPN and also happens to my best friend) we thought of a good plot and ran with that. Sorry it took a while to write out and hopefully this is fluffy enough for you. Every time I try to write something fluffy i feel like it just turns depressing somehow hahaha its surprisingly really hard. Also i might have had a bit to much fun getting gifs of Dean. As always please be patient with my rookie skills. Lots of love xxx Oh and this Gif seemed fitting but I didn’t know where to put so i’m just gonna leave it here:

Originally posted by stillsomewhatsane

Three days he promised. That was a week ago. No phone calls, no texts, no nothing. Your Dad was completely off the grid. This worried you. You stopped playing with your toys and watching the TV. Drawing wasn’t appealing, nor was exploring Uncle Bobby’s car yard. Nothing could distract you from the worry your young mind possessed for your absent father. You missed your Dad tremendously. Without his presence in your life, everything seemed duller.

You missed how he made you feel safe and loved, through constant hugs and kisses. How he would dedicate all his time and attention on you when he was home from work. He would do anything you wanted, take you out for ice cream or bowling, the beach or the movies, or the Zoo, that was your favourite. You walked among the enclosures hand in hand seeing the exotic animals. Occasionally getting lost because he couldn’t read the map but the two of you didn’t mind as you ran around the zoo chasing each other. When your feet got sore or you were too short to see over all the people, he would put you on his shoulders and carry your around. I just want him to be home, you thought. He shouldn’t be away for so long.

You knew your father’s job was dangerous, you had seen the scars he possessed. However, he never would tell you the details of what he did or where he went. However, you knew that the longer the job was, the more battered and bruised he was when he finally came home. He was never phased by the intricate pattern of raised scars on his tan and worn skin. When you asked where a new one came from he would brush it off and tell you he got it fighting a tiger. 

Originally posted by ohmysupernatural

You would fall for it and be awestruck with the fact your Dad actually fought tigers. But you weren’t surprised, your Dad was pretty tough. You copied his tough attitude yourself, when you got hurt you would try to be strong like him. When he would find you with a bee sting or grazed knees he would always make a fuss over you asking if you were okay. He would wipe your tears away and pull you in for a tight hug whilst planting a gentle kiss on the top of your head. He would inspect the wound and patch it up. He always managed to make you laugh somehow whilst attending to you. You would forget about the pain and laugh with him, which won you a wide smile on your father’s face.

Now it seems that image of his smile was slowly slipping from your memory. He had been away for longer then he said and it was all you could think about. Every time the phone rang you thought it was him. You anticipated hearing your Dad’s faint gruff voice over Bobby’s ancient phone, but it was never him. Bobby would just look at you with sad eyes and shake his head to confirm what you already knew.

Every time you heard a car travelling down the motor way, you would run to the porch and sit and wait on the steps. Only to see the car you heard, continue to drive past. In recent days, you spent hours just sitting on the porch steps and staring at that road waiting for the familiar sleek black shiny car to pull in. When the sun was finally going down and the mosquitoes were emerging, Bobby would come and get you for dinner. Then you would go to sleep where you were flooded with dreams of your father being hurt and you being only just out of reach of helping him.

You woke up with a cold sweat coating the top of your lip and droplets falling down your brow. It was just a dream you told yourself, over and over as you sat up. You dreamt that you stayed at Uncle Bobby’s forever and your father never came home. Not because he was hurt but because he didn’t love you anymore. You remembered the sad dream and started to overthink the situation; that’s probably what he’s doing now, he has never left you for this long before you thought. You were crying again and became hot with anger with the idea your dream was true. This wasn’t fair you thought why didn’t he come home when he promised? Why didn’t he tell you what his job really was? Why couldn’t you just live in one place and stop moving around all the time? Why was he always leaving you? You sniffed away the last of your tears and got up to go downstairs. You pulled on your one of your Dad’s shirts for warmth. It brushed against the floor when you walked and you had to push up the sleeves so you could use your hands, but you loved it because it smelt of him. It smelt of home. You padded down the familiar stairs rubbing your weary eyes shut. When you got to the bottom of the stair case you turned to walk into the kitchen. You opened your eyes to be greeted with the sight of your father swigging on a clear bottle filled with a brown liquid. Your uncle Bobby was beside him dabbing his right shoulder and then putting down scissors in which he used to cut the string, that sewed up a large gash. Your eyes bulged with the surprise of your father sitting so casually in the kitchen after being away for so long. You were going to run to him but you remembered the dream and how he didn’t keep his word. You were angry at him because he didn’t even give you a phone call to say he was alright, instead he had left you in the dark. So, you planted your feet at the bottom of the stairs instead of running to him, now all you wanted to do was run back to your bed. But then your soft Y/E/C were caught in his forest green ones. When he first saw you he smiled but after reading your body language, he could see something was wrong. His smile fell and he looked older. 

Originally posted by sweetpea9873

He didn’t like you acting out of character, usually you would scream out his name and run into his arms. He was looking forward to this and was smiling the whole way home thinking about seeing your eyes sparkle once more when you would see him. So much so, he didn’t feel the pain of the wounds when he drove a little faster so he could see you sooner. He did feel bad for leaving you for so long, he didn’t mean to but he was captured and had escaped only today from the monster he was hunting. 

“Bug?” He questioned, “Where’s my hug sweetheart?” he half smiled. You were battling an internal conflict of wanting to be in your father’s warm embrace but you were so angry at the same time. You already had one foot on the first step when you looked back to your father with glassy eyes and a wobbling lip belonging to a small pout. You then quickly ran up the stairs crying, still furious with your father.

Dean was shocked and quickly put the liquor bottle down and gingerly stood up. He grabbed a tea towel and held it to where Bobby had finished sewing him up and followed you up the stairs. “Y/N” he called, but you didn’t respond. You had crawled under the covers and were crying, still wearing your father’s shirt. Dean walked into your room and switched on the light to see you hiding under the covers with small sniffles escaping from it. He knew something was terribly wrong, the last time you did this was when you found out your Mum wasn’t ever coming home again. You heard the door squeak as it was closed and saw your father’s shadow growing and growing as he came closer to you. You felt your mattress dip as a warming hand was placed on your blanket, patting your back, “Shush sweetheart, you alright…Y/N, what’s wrong baby” he soothed. Your sobs started to slow with your father’s encouragement until you could finally reply, “Y-You were away for so-o long Dad-dy…you sa-id you-‘d be three d-days and you didn’t come h-home for another w-week. I was so s-scared”. You then started to bawl again and Dean felt a wave of guilt crash on him, “Baby I’m so sorry-” he began, but you snapped at him, “You should have c-called. I thought you-u didn’t l-love me anymore” you sobbed. Dean was shocked and he couldn’t take it anymore. He peeled away the covers you were holding and scooped you up. He sat you down on his knee and he looked straight into you red puffy eyes, “Listen to me Y/N there is no way I’d ever stop loving you. You are my whole world sweetheart. I’m so lucky to have you. I don’t know what I do without you in my life. You’re all I think about and I do everything for you, including my job. It’s hard for me too when I leave you behind. I hate it! But I have too sometimes because I can’t take you with me, it’s too dangerous. Do you understand darling? I’ll always love you” 

Originally posted by padaleckijen

You continued to rub your eyes and nodded before another sob racked your body. You weren’t crying because you were angry now, you were crying because you were so scarred of losing your Dad and you had missed him so much. “Oh hunny sh-shhush… I got you now, Daddy’s home, I’m so sorry sweetheart” He comforted you once more as he pulled you in for a warming hug. The kind you had missed so much. The kind that you arranged your pillows at night to be like, but it wasn’t the same. Even wearing his shirt, the smell was off as it mixed with Bobby’s musty house. You let your sobs slow once more as you held onto your Dad’s shirt whilst his strong arms wrapped around you. In between soothing your sobs, he kissed the top of your head, pulling you in closer. He hated seeing you in pain, it broke his heart even more knowing it was his fault. “Silly Daddy’s phone ran out of battery, that’s why he couldn’t call you. I forgot to pack the charger” he chuckled through his lie, in hope of raising your spirits. “That was very silly Daddy” you croaked into your dad’s chest, which brought a large smile to your father’s face as it reached his eyes. You sat in his arms until you were feeling drowsy and warm again,

“Hey Daddy” you yawned,

“Yeah Bug”

“What happened to your arm?”, Dean had forgotten about the pain in his arm now that he was with you.

“Oh um…you know fighting tigers as usual baby” he lied

“He got you pretty good” you admitted

“Huh, I guess he did. But you should see the tiger.”

This brought a giggle out of you as you leaned back and sat up on your father’s knee. You started playing with the zipper of his jacket as the sniffles slowed. Dean pushed away the hair falling in your eyes and just stared at you with deep love. He was so proud of you. He never thought he would ever be this lucky or happy in his life and it was all due to you.

“Can we go to the zoo again soon?” You asked, still staring at your Dad’s zipper as you pulled it up and down.

“Of course sweetheart anything you want.”

“Good. I need to tell off the tiger that you fought again. No one messes with my Daddy”

Dean chuckled again, you were truly a Winchester girl. You fell back into your Dad’s chest and he automatically enclosed you again in his arms. You fell asleep soon afterwards. Dean gently picked you up and laid you down on your bed, tucking you in whilst you cuddled with your teddy. He planted a soft kiss on the top of your forehead, closing his eyes. He then crept towards the door and turned off the lights before pulling the door shut. You were already dreaming peacefully. This time no nightmares filled your slumber. You instead were dreaming about fighting tigers with your Dad. 

Happy Birthday, Dean

Originally posted by frozen-delight

Characters: Dean x Reader, Cas

Summary:  You spend Dean’s Birthday wishing you knew where he was.  Drabble set after the Mid-season Finale. 

Warnings: Angst

You found yourself staring into space often these days, your eyes lingering places Dean had often occupied: a stone column he liked to lean against, the chair he lounged in while looking for cases.  All these places were saturated with him, his echo imprinted on them.

But he wasn’t there.  

You didn’t know where he was.  

Cas’ heavy footsteps woke you from your thoughts and aimless staring.  He stepped into the library, eyes immediately finding yous.  He shook his head slightly, almost imperceptive and what little hope you were surprised you still had crumbled.  

“Nothing new today,” he said, sitting across from you.  You nodded, closing your laptop.  “You haven’t slept,” he remarked.  

“I can sleep when they’re home.”  You rubbed your red, blood shot eyes and tried to remember the last time you’d slept for more than an hour.

“Burning out won’t help us find them any faster,” Cas commented, taking in your appearance warily.  You must have looked a sight to see.

“Nothing is helping us find them, so what’s the point in sleeping,” you snapped.  Cas leaned back and you cringed.  “I’m sorry Cas, I’m just-,”

“Sleep deprived.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded.  

You let silence creep into the room, staining the air with mingled worry and longing. 

“Today is his birthday,” you commented, tracing a grain in the wood with your fingernail.  “I don’t want him to be-,” you trailed off.  Alone?  In pain?  Dead?

Cas leaned over and clasped your hand.

“We will get them back,” he vowed, the promise burning in his blue eyes.  “We’ll get Dean back.”  You nodded, the aching, hollowness of your worry written on your face.

“If he-,” you paused, “-when he comes home. I’ll make sure he knows.  Every day.  I’ll make sure he knows how much I love him.”  

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