Leigh70

Old enough to know better

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

When What We Had was Everything Master List

When Y/N really needs him, Jensen steps up, leaving all their past in the past. Can Y/N possibly do the same?

Pt. 1

Pt. 2

Pt. 3

[leigh70]

Such a beautiful, heartwarming story with some hurt included that will just make your heart sigh…if only…🥰🥰🥰

[impala-dreamer]

THROUGH HIS EYES - DEAN WINCHESTER WRITING CHALLENGE

The man, the myth, the legend - You know him, you love him. But do you really know him? How exactly would Dean react to Baby breaking down in the middle of nowhere and he can't fix 'er up? What is he actually thinking when he's sipping whiskey from the bottle and eyeing his girl? What is really going on behind those beautiful green eyes?

You know... So tell us!

I hereby challenge you to write a story entirely from Dean Winchester's point of view. It can be first or third person, but it must be Dean telling the story or showing us the way. It can be his internal monologue or our guide through the events.

Read on for rules and prompts. Please reblog to spread the word. And sign up- Open to anyone who writes or wants to!

Let's dive into our man's psyche and see what horrors we pull out!

Sign up until Friday, May 9 - Noon EST

Post whenever.

Deadline Friday, May 16 - Noon EST

THE RULES:

18+ only. regardless of story content.

All stories must be from Dean Winchester's POV. 1st Person or 3rd. Dean is telling the story/we see it through him.

One shots, Mini Series, Poetry, Whatever you feel like writing is cool.

Reader Inserts, OCs, Ships, Beka x Dean, all welcome 

No Weecest, Underage, or Weechesters in general. Let's start at Season 1, shall we?

Any genre is fine, but you must use the prompt somehow.

No crossovers.

No combining with another challenge.

No use of AI in anyway. You will be called out and shamed. Shammmmmedddd!

Post your fic on tumblr or AO3 anytime before the deadline.

Please mention the challenge name in the A/N and tag @impala-dreamer.

All warnings Must be Tagged in the opening. You can write whatever you want - I encourage your creativity - but you must tag. You No tag, Me No read.

I will comment and reblog every fic I receive. 

If you have any questions or anything, just dm me. I'm pretty chill.

Choose one prompt from the list below and send an ask saying you'd like to participate and tell me your desired prompt (and one backup just in case). Prompts will be used only once, first come first served. I'll answer the asks and update at the same time so you should be cool do get your desired prompt. Any issues, just let me know.

THE PROMPTS

QUOTES:

“I absolutely could not turn away.”

“I know why we have to say goodbye, I just don't want to.”

“You better hold on!”

“I don't want you to walk out on me.”

“Goddamn it, you need to hear me!”

“You know you can't hurt me.”

“I trust you.”

“It. Was. Amazing.”

“If I give it to you, you gotta shut up.”

“Just… stay.”

TITLES

The Aftermath

Drink You Away

Once In A Lifetime 

Always, Probably.

When It Refused To Rain

Come What May

Inside Of Me

Time Carries On

The Chain

Switched

SITUATIONS 

Friends to Lovers

Near Death Confession 

A Spell

Unrequited Love

First Kisses

Drunken Mistakes

Misunderstanding 

Hurt/Comfort

There Were Two Beds But They Only Wished For One

Keeping It Secret

OH NO!

Vampires

Djinn 

Lucifer

Leviathans

Chuck

Ghost

Werewolf

Jefferson Starships

Kahn Worm

Cursed Object

I REALLY HOPE YOU PARTICIPATE AND HAVE FUN CREATING!

[leigh70]

Unfortunately I do not have the gift of writing so reblog- ing so hopefully @impala-dreamer will get all the participation for this challenge. I’d LOVE to read all the stories!!❤️😍

[our-jensen-ackles-love]

Flashes; Jensen x Reader Series

Playboy Jensen Ackles is hurting his television show’s image. Every time he promised to get his act together, it’d last for about a week before pictures emerge of him half-drunk with some broad on his arm. Fed up and desperate, his agent decides their only hope to save some face is to write up a contract with a nobody girl who could use the money while getting to play the role of Jensen’s girlfriend.

It was only for a year and it was only for the photos. But feelings don’t always follow the rules, do they?

TAGS CLOSED.

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven  Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen  Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen  Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Epilogue 

[our-jensen-ackles-love]

If anyone wants to be reminded, it’s been SEVEN years since I created this.

[leigh70]

Only read the first two chapters and I am hooked! Adulting sucks because I can’t keep reading now so reblogging so I don’t lose this series!!!

[zepskies]

IF I STAY - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Yes, here’s another firefighter AU! Based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @redhoodieone. She requested pretty much all the major beats of this story, so hopefully I did her request justice! This is also partially inspired by Fools Rush In, a beautiful movie with Salma Hayek and Matthew Perry (Rest in Peace, King).

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis

Word Count: 8.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, thick thirty, hints of body insecurity, but also body appreciation, angst, and hurt/comfort.

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 1: Fools Rush In

Slowly, your eyes slide open into the waking world. Your head is resting on something warm, firm…and a little sweaty. You pick your head up, despite the disorienting, muddy feeling of a slight hangover.

A groan bubbles in your throat. Your gaze travels downward, and you realize that what you’re looking at is more of a who.

Your eyes widen. Oh…my…God…

Not only are you very naked, but your firm pillow is too. It happens to be your best friend’s brother.

Yes, holy fucking shit! You slept with your best friend’s brother.

Biting the inside of your lip, you can’t help but take him in, here in the raw light of day as he lays peacefully on his back. His head lolls to the side on your usual pillow. Your eyes roam over the bow of his lips, the dark eyebrows, lightish brown hair that's softer than it should be between your fingers.

He’s painfully handsome. There’s a slight hesitation in your touch, but you softly trace the cut of his jaw and the stubble spread across it. That roughness feels familiar, and not just under the pads of your fingers, though the thought makes you blush. You begin to remember the night before, almost like a movie reel through your mind… 

Ooooh, right. That’s what happened.

It starts at Sam Winchester’s joint bachelor-bachelorette party at a nice hotel downtown. He and Eileen aren't the "strippers and coke" kind of party couple. They're more the "wine and brie en croute with pickled olives" on the expensive crackers you can't afford—kind of couple.

They look perfectly in love, if a bit long-suffering while Dean gives a hilarious, somewhat inappropriate, but still ultimately heartwarming toast to their happiness. After lowering the glass of champagne from his lips, his gaze catches on yours in the crowd. You suck in a subtle breath. 

Technically you’ve met him already, being one of Eileen’s bridesmaids, but there’s something about his green eyes that pin you to the floor. When he hands over the mic to Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, his head turning away from you to offer her a smile breaks the spell. It allows you to breathe.

Dean later finds you by the bar. You’re drinking a rum and coke with your slice of cake, trying not to get a single crumb on your dress. You've put a lot of work into affording it, let alone fitting in it. He leans his elbows casually on the counter and looks over at you.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he nods at you with a smile, subtly taking you in first. Then, his eyes go to your plate. “Ooh, red velvet. Gotta get me some of that.”

You smile back at him. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, looks good in your hand,” he says, adding a teasing wink for good measure.

You don't know why that does it for you, but a half-flattered, half-nervous laugh tumbles out of your mouth. Sam has warned you before about Dean. Apparently his older brother is a bit of a flirt; a ladies’ man.

A man whore, are the words Eileen used.

You’re honestly surprised he’s talking to you when Eileen’s other bridesmaids, Lisa and Jo, are sipping martinis together down at the other end of the bar. Guess they didn’t want cake.

They look beautiful in their lithe, strapless little cocktail dresses. You’ve had to give up chocolate, bread, and cheese for three months straight to fit into this dress, something slinky and red that drapes over your thicker, curvy figure. But you’re proud of the fact that you’re letting yourself eat cake tonight, even though you’ve often felt like Mrs. Doubtfire while standing for pictures next to Lisa and Jo.

They’re Eileen’s friends, not so much your crowd. No matter how much you’ve tried to get to know them while helping the wedding planning in whatever way you can, you still get a high school clique vibe from the women, if with more “polite smiles.” Then they’ll typically go back to talking about crystal centerpieces—or whatever in-depth conversation they were having before you were there. 

But right now, Dean’s focus is on you. When he asks you more about yourself, you tell him about recently earning an elementary education degree.

“Ah, but you already knew that, because Sam told you we graduated college together,” you realize, with warmth tingeing your cheeks. That subject came up pretty quickly when he introduced you to his brother.

Dean’s smile confirms your suspicions, so you just keep filling the silence on reflex.

“Well, I actually just started teaching my first ever semester of second graders. They’re a bit of a handful, but overall, they’re really sweet.” Your smile falters. “Except for this one kid who likes to put little tacks on my chair. He’s kind of a menace, but I think if I bribe him with enough lollipops, he’ll give it a rest. I mean, it’s a behavioral issue and I should probably call his parents. But it's kind of hard to tell them their son is trying to make my ass into a pincushion."

Dean's laugh comes out in a sharp burst, like he wasn't expecting what just came out of your mouth. You didn't either, honestly. You giggle more out of embarrassment, ducking your head.

"He’s in second grade, you know?" you say, in between laughter. "I don't think that little footnote needs to end up on his permanent record. But then there's Micah. He's so friggin' smart. He can read at the fifth grade level already. Can you believe that? And I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but his grades on his spelling tests get him a spot in the comfy bean bag chair pretty much every Friday. Honestly, I think that's what I like about working with kids. I get to see that spark on their face when something just finally clicks for them. Their little faces get all bright and happy and…ugh. God, I'm sorry. I'm rambling, right?”

You stop yourself with a hand sliding over your mouth, not quite covering your smile of embarrassment.

Dean’s grin just widens, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

"It's okay. I kinda like it," he teases.

You duck your head, biting your lip against a groan. He chuckles and reaches out for your hand, earning your nervous glance. He quirks his head.

“Hey, you're passionate about what you do, helping kids. That's nothin' to be ashamed of,” he says, brushing his thumb over your hand. “But sweetheart, I gotta ask. Am I making you nervous or something?”

God, yes, you think, especially at that sweetheart thing. It’s making your heartbeat tick up a syncopated rhythm, but you shake your head, biting the straw of your rum and coke.

“No, not at all,” you say, in a hopefully “breezy” kind of way. You touch your fingers to his wrist. “Tell me about you though. Sam mentioned that you’re a firefighter?”

“Ah, yeah. Firefighter in training,” he says, with a more genuine smile.

He just started at the Fire Academy, and he tells you about all the drills he’s had to learn and all the training he’s had to do to be able to keep up with his classes. You subtly eye him while you sip at your drink, and you notice the crisp cut of his buttoned-down shirt and leather jacket, the definition of muscle across his thighs under the slacks, even while he casually sits.

Your gaze subtly travels down his long bowed legs, smart dress shoes. His cologne is woody and masculine, but not overpowering; maybe bergemot and sandalwood. It pleasantly wafts under your nose every time he gestures with his hands while he talks.

“Aw man, I can’t hold out anymore. I think I need to get me some of that cake before it’s gone,” he says, getting up from his chair.

You’re a bit disappointed that he’s leaving, until he stops short.

“You want another piece?” he offers, gesturing at your empty plate that’s been resting on the counter.

You blink in surprise, but you shake your head. “Oh, no. I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’s a party,” Dean reasons. His grin is too damn infectious. It has you smiling, and begrudgingly agreeing.

Not only does he bring you more cake, but you watch him eat three whole slices before he asks you to dance.

The rest of it flashes through your mind like strobe lights—the way he’d started small and respectful with his larger hand closed over yours and the other along the curve of your waist. He guided you closer and closer, until you were turned around into his arms, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

You felt his lips teasing your skin. Then those hands tantalizingly drifted down your every soft curve, as if showing you a preview of everything he could do to you, and every way he’d make you come apart. You believed him.

And when he whispered in your ear, asking if he could take you home, you let him.

You let him drive you in that big black piece of history he drives. Used to be my dad’s car, he said. A Chevy something. You couldn’t really remember much when his hand was drifting up and down your thigh like that.

His presence burned hot at your back when you two eventually got to the front door of your apartment, your hands just barely shaking as you got the key in. Twist and click—

He waited until you flipped the lights on. Then he turned you around slowly in his arms and pulled you in close, all the while asking you with his eyes and raised brows. This okay? You want this?

“Do I still make you nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching at a smile when yours do.

You nodded, uttering a small giggle. “In a good way.”

That was when he finally kissed you, hot and slow, like he meant to devour you whole. He moaned at the taste of you, at the feel of your ass squeezed in his hands. You clung onto him strong, breathing into his kiss and trying to meet every single demand of his lips.

It soon became a fiery tear to your bedroom, one lamp flicked on, hot breaths and nice clothes crumpled to the floor. You didn’t feel self-conscious even once when he guided you under him on the bed, because he wasted no time in taking you apart, inch by inch.

His lips kissed and licked and sucked a burning trail down your neck, over your collarbone and between your breasts. You felt his hardened length trapped between your bodies while his hands explored you, teasing your breasts and sensitive nipples, and he mapped his way down with his lips.

You explored every part of him you could—every dip of muscle, firm shoulders and the slopes of his back, and then back up to tangle in his hair. Your heated gasps and whimpers filled the room when his sinful mouth found what it was looking for between your legs.

It wasn’t often that you had a strong pair of shoulders to rest your thighs on, but Dean’s grip was hard enough to leave deep fingerprints of pressure on each thigh while he slipped his tongue through your folds and feasted on you.

“D-Dean, oh God,” you gasped. Every sound you made was a sensuous symphony in his ears, washing over his skin and making the well of his desire churn hot in his lower belly. He had to roll his hips into the mattress for some relief for his aching cock, even while he moved his mouth up to your clit, circling the swollen bud with his tongue. He had enough room to slip two fingers deep inside your sopping wet channel, exploring you deeply, stroking and twisting to find what you needed.

Your thighs trembled and squeezed tight on either side of his head. When he sucked your clit tight between his lips, you uttered as gasping moan as that coil snapped its release. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers. Yours clenched tightly in his hair, threatening to rip out a few strands.

Dean stroked you all through your first orgasm, giving slower licks to your clit. He seemed to sense when you couldn’t handle anymore though. You tugged more sharply on his hair, and he finally pulled away, moving back up your body to gauge your reaction.

You’d collapsed boneless against the bed, but you still managed to smile up at him as you caught your breath.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. But his self-satisfied grin almost made you laugh. You took his glistening face between your hands and pulled him down for a grateful kiss.

After a moment to savor your lips, he broke away for a second to catch his breath himself. You stroked his back all the while.

“You know, for a minute down there, I thought you might not let me come back up,” he teased.

You choked on a laugh, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Honestly wouldn’t have minded if you did suffocate me,” he chuckled, accompanied by a slap to your left ass cheek. You squealed, and blushed hotly at the way he was grinning down at you.

“Ready for more, baby? Or you want to call it a night?” he asked. His tone was playful, but it was actually a serious question. You blinked in surprise. You’d never had a guy be this, well…generous, and not expect anything in return, especially not for just a hookup.

But you shook your head and sat up, slipping a hand behind Dean’s neck. After a beat of hesitation, you guided him down to you for a slow, sensuous kiss.

“No, I don’t want to call it a night,” you whispered. Your hand drifted down his bare chest, and lower still. You showed him just how well you could return the favor.

And now, come the morning, you’re blushing down to your neck as each scene flashes through your mind. You feel the ghost of his hands all over your body, and how you’d never quite felt quite as bold and sexy and beautiful with a near stranger as you had with Dean effing Winchester. Your best friend’s brother.

You begin to worry your bottom lip with your teeth. How the hell are you going to tell Sam? Especially after he warned you about exactly this. Plus, there’s a reason you don’t typically do the one-night stand thing, and this has the potential to become something very complicated.

You know what, it’s fine! you think. We’re two consenting adults. We’re both single. And maybe…maybe it could be more than a hookup. Maybe we can see each other again, see where it goes.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Dean says, his voice croaking with sleep.

You look down at him in surprise. His eyes have cracked open and he has your hand captive, stopping you from continuing to idly trace patterns on his bare chest. You smile in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you say. Again, you bite your lower lip. “Um, good morning.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” he grins lazily. “You sure wore me out last night.”

Your smile becomes more genuine, even if you turn your face away somewhat shyly.

“Aw, don’t do that,” Dean says. He slides his hand up your arm and behind your neck, tangling into your already tangled hair when he guides you down to his lips for a kiss. “You were awesome.”

You giggle against his lips. “Really?”

“Hell, yeah,” he says, kissing you again.

You shake your head a little. “You were…”

Amazing. Unbelievable. Probably the best night I’ve ever had.

“Perfect,” you decide. Because it’s the truth. The word comes out of your mouth before you can filter yourself though, making you pause. Dean does too, but after a beat, he slowly smiles.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

You lick your lips, and you nod. “Definitely.”

“Well, then,” he says. His hand moves down to squeeze your hip. “You down for a repeat performance?”

You smile. “Only if I get a turn.”

Bracing your hands on his chest, you slide your thigh across his lap so you can straddle his hips. Dean grins and goes along with your idea. He gets a nice healthy handful of your thighs and helps settle you on top of him. But first, he reaches over into your nightstand drawer and finds another condom, ripping it open with his teeth.

Just like you did for him last night, you take the packet, as well as his generous length in your hands. You gently stroke him to full mast, smiling pleased at his groan of pleasure. Then you carefully fit the condom over him.

“You’re so gentle with me,” he teases. 

“Just returning the favor,” you quip, just before you position him at your wet entrance. Slowly, you sink down over his cock.

You both moan at the feeling of him stretching you again, warm and thick and fitting perfectly nestled deep inside. There had been moments last night where he wasn’t all that gentle, actually, but his passion had only spurred yours on more. You know you’ll probably find fingerprint marks on your thighs and ass, but it’s fucking worth it, you think, as you begin to bob a rocking rhythm that serves you both.

Dean arches his back underneath you, his knees coming up to press against your ass.

“Goddamn, baby. Givin’ me quite a show,” he says, in a panting voice that’s deep as sin.

You utter a breathy laugh.

Dean means it though. He’s enjoying the way you brush your hair out of your face, your beautiful tits in his face while you truly let loose for him. He guides you by the stronghold he has on your hips, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he ruts up into you, meeting your thrusts.

Your breath quickens, your nails digging into his chest on reflex, and your heart races as that delicious pleasure builds. But when Dean snakes a hand between you and further parts your folds to massage tight circles over your clit, your vision flashes white. You utter a scream of pleasure on his name, your inner walls choking him tight as you throb around his cock. His release hits him like a goddamn freight train.

“Aw, fuck,” he grunts.

He slams your hips down hard, making your thighs slap against his. A ragged groan escapes him in a rush. His hands move to your thighs just under your ass, where his fingers press into flesh hard enough to leave forensic ID, giving him leverage to bury himself deep into your pussy as he spills a hot release into the condom.

Goddamn…

He can almost imagine that he’s coming free inside you, that you’re milking his cock for every drop, until there’s nothing left for him to give.

The thought surprises him. It almost takes him out of the moment, honestly. That’s not a thought he’s ever had before—not with a woman he barely knows (which is most of his hookups, if he’s honest).

In that delicious, fractious moment just after it hits, it’s like those few seconds are suspended in zero gravity. Your arms are shaking, and your forced to collapse against his chest. Dean welcomes you there for a little while, letting you come down while he smooths a hand over your hair.

Though he can't help the urge to let his big hand drift down over your dewy skin, down the gentle slope of your back and over the curve of your generous ass. He gives one cheek a teasing slap. The sound echoes in the room.

"Goddamn perfect ass," he says roughly, smirking at your squeal. You end up grinning hard against his neck.

"'S that my new nickname?" you quip.

He chuckles deeply, moving you along with his chest. "Hell, sweetheart, if you want it to be."

Eventually, you lean back to give him a smile and one last kiss before you pull away from him. You slip off his lap to find your robe, at least. You definitely need a shower.

“So I’m thinking, after we get cleaned up, I could make us some breakfast,” you offer. “Or if you want, maybe we could go somewhere. I know a little diner down the block.”

“I like the sound of food,” Dean agrees with a smile. Ge reaches over for his phone on the nightstand, to check the time. His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

He has to get his ass over to the Fire Academy. He has class in barely twenty minutes.

He tears out of bed and nearly trips on the coiled sheets.

“Sorry. Gonna need to take a raincheck,” he says. He hurries to find his clothes strewn all over your bedside floor.

“What’s the matter?” you ask with wide eyes. You cross your arms under your breasts, but it’s more like you’re hugging yourself over your robe. You watch him tear through your bedroom in a tempest of movement.

Dean spares you a glance, but not much else as he yanks up his slacks and belt and dress shirt.

“Gotta get to class,” he confesses. Thank God he has his uniform in the trunk of his car for exactly these kinds of emergencies. He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys, and quickly kisses you on the cheek. He gazes down at you apologetically. “Sorry I gotta cut and run, sweetheart, but it’s been fun.”

Your smile barely reaches your eyes. He’s pressed for time, but he still notices.

He slows himself down and cups your cheek. “Hey.”

He gets your pretty eyes looking up at him, and he gives you a real kiss, nice and slow. He cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin.

“Thanks,” he says. His now familiar grin manages to make you smile. “And I mean that.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay go, Mr. Future Fireman. Be safe out there, okay?”

He gives you a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

You can’t help but laugh. This guy’s too much. But you don't think you've had this much fun having sex in...

All right, let's not put a timeframe on it.

You watch him leave your apartment, even though you have a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew this was just a hookup for him, for both of you. Part of you just couldn’t help hoping that it could’ve led to something more. 

Dean means to call you.

He really does.

After that truly awesome, you shook me all night long, kind of a night, he thinks about you more than he’d like to admit over the next few weeks. However, he finds himself locked into his training. He’s so close to finishing strong and earning his badge, he just can’t afford any more distractions.

Still, he should’ve known that Sam would find out—either through Eileen, or through you directly. He also should’ve expected the way his brother let him have it.

“And you didn’t even fucking call her. See? This is why I don’t set you up with any of my friends anymore,” Sam bitches at him from his side of the small two-seater dinner table. They still share an apartment, though in just a month and a half, Sam’s going to be moving out. He and Eileen already found a house that they’re moving into after the wedding.

“Look, I was going to call her, man. They’ve just been bustin’ my ass at the Academy!” Dean argues.

“Bullshit.” Sam levels him with the same finger that holds his beer.

Dean’s brows raise, high and annoyed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. Because if you really liked her, respected her, and respected me, you would’ve made the time,” Sam says.

That falls heavy between the brothers for a moment while they eat their pizza.

“Look, I know her. She doesn’t do hookups that often, which means…she probably liked you,” Sam adds. “And honestly, when are you going to give it a real try with someone? You can only visit that free clinic so many times.”

Dean shoots him a glare. He’s had a clean bill of health from said clinic for six months straight.

“Jesus Christ. Enough, all right?” he grouses. “What’re you, Mom?”

“I’m just saying,” Sam says, lowering his crust to the plate. He levels his brother with a more earnest look, lightening up from his anger. “Look, if it’s about what happened to Dad—”

“What, you mean the way he drank himself to death after Mom died?” Dean says. His voice cuts through whatever softball glove Sam is trying to handle him with. “You think that’s the kind of thing I should be looking for in my life?”

“Oh, and what, do you think I’m making a mistake marrying Eileen?” Sam counters.

Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Damn it, don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I’m saying, it’s just…I don’t know. Maybe that kind of life—the house, the wife, the 2.5 kids and the dog. Maybe that’s just not my life, okay?”

Sam gives him a long look. He lets go of a deep breath, and he shrugs.

“Okay,” he says. “If you think hooking up night after night for the rest of your life is going to make you happy, then fine.”

Dean nods, glad that they can put an end to this little After School Special.

“Okay.”

Still, he can’t finish his third slice of pizza. He keeps picturing your face when he left you that morning. No matter how you tried to hide it, he still saw the tinge of disappointment in your eyes. It brews something uncomfortable in his stomach, and a sting in his chest.

You’re eating lunch alone in your classroom, finally on your break, when an unfamiliar number flashes across your phone screen. You look down at it in confusion, but with all the caterers and florists and things you’ve helped Eileen with on the wedding, you figure it could be important. You pick up the call and greet whoever’s on the line.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

You drop your ham and cheese on your keyboard, gaping in surprise.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he chuckles slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s been a minute.”

You frown, because you’re confused more than anything.

“Yeah, like almost a month,” you reply. You put the call on speaker so you can grab up your sandwich and quickly brush off the crumbs from your keyboard. You struggle to say something cool, clever, sexy even. “I’m okay. Just, um…what’s up?”

Smooth, real smooth. You cover your eyes with your hand.

“Nothin’, I was just thinking of that night,” he says. “I had a good time.”

Your frown deepens, despite the beginning of a blush warming your cheeks. If he’s calling you just for another hookup…

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.”

And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

“I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

That part throws you though, you’re not going to lie. What, is this a Netflix and chill situation—with a side of fries?

You consider it. You weigh pros and cons at a frightening speed in your mind, almost like Sherlock Holmes contemplating the layout of a dead body and deducing within moments that his wife committed the murder, despite the man no longer wearing a ring.

You want to let yourself be bold and spontaneous and carefree...but it's just not who you are at your core. You're a planner, a cautious person who looks three ways before crossing the street. Letting Dean take you home that night was certainly one of the most spontaneous, wild things you've done since your friends took you out to a strip club after you aced your final round of exams back in college.

(Sam hadn't been there that night, but he did get an embarrassing drunken text from you at 3:00 a.m., along with a few shame-ridden pictures fueled by questionable substances. Yes, he still had the evidence.)

You just don't know if it's smart to let yourself hookup with Dean again. Mostly because you know your heart has the tendency to get attached, no matter how much you warn it not to.

“You know, Dean, I’m pretty busy with my job right now. I just started here a couple of months ago, and I think I just need to focus on that right now,” you say. Part of it isn’t a lie, even though your soft heart is stinging.

“Ah, okay. Yeah. I get that,” he says. You hear his disappointment too. “But I just need to say, I really am sorry for not calling you sooner.”

Your lips tug at a smile. “It’s okay, Dean. Look, you’re Sam’s brother. I just feel like, maybe it’s better if you and I stay friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Dean says wryly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have three rounds of steamy hot sex with any of my friends.”

Your blush comes swiftly again, burning in your cheeks.

“Be that as it may,” you say, “I just don’t want to do anything that will distract from Sam and Eileen’s wedding.”

“Oh, I’m a distraction, huh?” Dean says flirtatiously. 

You begin to smile in earnest. “I think you know damn well what you are, Dean Winchester.”

His deep chuckle practically resonates through the phone and into your chest, going straight down to your pussy. You clench on nothing just at the sound of his voice, making you cross your legs under your skirt. Dear God…

How are you supposed to be even remotely normal around this man now? 

But for Sam’s sake (and your own), you’ll have to try. 

Two months later, Dean has taken Sam’s dating advice to heart. A week or so after you turned him down, he ran into Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, while he was at the grocery store buying beer and Twizzlers. She was a smart, sharp, sexy brunette. A yoga instructor, he soon found out. So he took a chance on asking her out. They’ve been going slow and steady ever since. 

Dean hasn’t heard from you since the rehearsal dinner, but he sees you again at his brother’s wedding. All the bridesmaids are wearing long, royal blue dresses that drape off the shoulders and hug the bust and waist, flaring gently at the skirt. Lisa and Jo wear it beautifully, their hair perfectly smooth and coiled. 

But when you step out into the hall outside the church ballroom to join them, Dean actually pauses in what he’s saying to his brother. He nearly double takes when you enter his line of vision—mostly because he hasn’t seen you in a dress since that night. You were sexy as hell then, a lady in red. 

Today, you’re absolutely stunning. 

After greeting Sam with a warm hug, you turn to him with a nervous kind of smile. “H-Hey, Dean.”

With that, he snaps out of it. Dean smiles, eyes crinkling, and goes over to give you a hug as well.

“Good to see you,” he says, trying not to inhale too much of your nice perfume. It’s even in your hair.

“You too,” you reply. Your smile is a little brighter, more genuine. Though there’s something behind your eyes that he can’t quite place.

What he doesn’t notice is the way Lisa is watching you and her boyfriend, a hint of suspicion on her face.

You do though. You pull away from Dean and assemble into a line with Lisa at the helm. As the Best Man, Dean stands with her, followed by Jo and Brady, another one of Sam’s buddies. You and Benny bring up the rear. Benny’s dad used to work with John, Sam and Dean’s father, on the police force.

According to Sam, John Winchester worked a beat for twenty-six years before his liver finally gave out on him. Dean almost went to the Police Academy to follow in his dad’s footsteps, but Benny, already working his way up to Lieutenant, suggested Dean become a smoke eater instead. The suggestion stuck.

Benny Lafitte is slightly shorter than Dean, but just as broad-shouldered, his auburn beard neatly trimmed. Even though you might’ve thought he was rough around the edges at first, his kind blue eyes spoke the contrary. He offers you his arm like a gentleman.

“Well aren't I lucky, getting the prettiest girl on my arm,” he says, with a charming smile.

You smile, and even begin to blush at the way he subtly takes note of you from head to toe.

“Well, thank you. You’re very handsome yourself. Although, hold on.” You slip your arm out of his for a moment so that you can fix his tie. It’s slightly crooked. You make sure that it lays flat under his collar, smoothing down all the edges and picking off any small dust particles that landed on his collar. Benny watches you with an indulgent smile.

“Am I good?” he asks.

“Very,” you reply.

“I appreciate it, thank you,” he says. You don’t know if he means to sound flirtatious, but his voice is a deep drawl that washes over you pleasantly. You find yourself blushing down to your neck as you slip your arm back around his.

You also don’t notice how Dean glances at you and Benny over his shoulder.

As much as you love Sam and Eileen, it’s difficult for you to keep your mind from spinning into fractals as the ceremony goes on. You can’t help but glance at Dean. He stands there behind Sam dutifully, but you see brotherly pride in Dean’s eyes, in his smile. It makes you smile too. You too love Sam like a brother, and it brings a well of happy tears to your eyes to watch him have his moment with his new wife.

It just also reminds you of what you need to do.

After the ceremony ends and the bridal party files out behind the bride and groom, you excuse yourself from Benny apologetically. You wait until Lisa and Jo go off to take pictures with Sam and Eileen, and you grab Dean’s wrist, pulling him aside.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper.

Dean gives you a confused look. “They’re gonna need us for the pictures.”

“I know, but this is important,” you say. Your voice trembles with nerves, and so do your hands. Dean notices, frowning in concern. He grasps your arm to try and steady you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just come with me,” you implore him. You take his hand and lead him into the women’s dressing room attached to the church sanctuary you all just came out of.

Dean raises his brows at the mess you and the rest of the bridesmaids have made of the room—pantyhose and makeup and clothing litter the floor and most available surfaces, while leftover breakfast sandwiches, grapes, salami, and cheddar cheese cubes are splayed out across one of the vanity counters. Dean is tempted to steal a morsel, but he focuses on you first.

You close and lock the door, which makes his brows raise high again. You know he has a girlfriend now, right?

“Uhh, look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but—”

You heave a sigh. Again, you take his hand and guide him to sit with you at the vanity. The old stools squeak, the overhead lights a bit too bright. This is not where you want to do this, but you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Dean, I’m pregnant,” you confess.

He freezes. His breath stills in his lungs. His eyes slowly widen as the words click in his brain.

“What?” His head tilts, as if he didn’t hear you right.

You squeeze his hand; to ground him or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I’m about two months pregnant. I found out last week.”

Dean swipes his free hand over his mouth while he tries to compute. He squeezes your hand, tighter and tighter. He points to himself.

“It’s…it’s me? It’s mine?”

You give him a weary smile. “You’re the only one I’ve been with in the last few months. It could only be you.”

Oh fuck. The man’s face begins to pale as he descends into shock.

“But we…I used a condom,” he reasons. “All the—all the times!”

You bite your lip. If you weren’t freaking the fuck out yourself, you’d probably be laughing right now. Granted, you’ve had a bit more time to process this than Dean.

“I know, I was there,” you reply, releasing yet another sigh. “One of them probably broke. That’s all I can think of… Honestly, Dean, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just didn’t want to disrupt the ceremony or cause a scene before the wedding. But now you know.”

Dean falls silent then. He hasn’t let go of your hand, which you think is a decent sign. He’s likely forgotten that you’re still holding it as he stares off into the middle distance for several seconds.

Eventually, he shakes his head and returns his gaze to yours. He looks uncertain, his handsome face the true epitome of holy fucking shit.

You know the feeling.

But he asks the most important question.

“What do you want to do?”

Briefly you close your eyes as you take a breath. You squeeze his hand before you let go of him.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and…I’m keeping the baby,” you tell him, though you raise placating hands. “I don’t want money, or anything like that. I just wanted you to know that it’s yours. How much you want to be in his or—or her life, that’s up to you.”

Dean takes a beat before he answers, but you don’t have to wait so long holding your breath.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll help you. Don’t worry,” he says.

And just like that, all the time you spent giving yourself pep talks for this, telling yourself that you’ll need to be strong no matter what he says, all of it crumbles into relief. Your lower lip trembles, and your body shudders as you break into tears. You try covering your face to hide your shame, but Dean grasps your shoulders.

“Hey, hey. It’s all right,” he says. He tentatively pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You nod into his dress shirt, probably staining him with your running makeup.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a bit tighter in response.

You and Dean agree to keep this to yourselves for now, at least until Sam and Eileen get back from their honeymoon. It’s difficult to explain why your eyes are all red and your makeup is smudged, but you promise Sam that you’ll tell him later. You know it’s pointless to lie to him though. As a lawyer, his bullshit meter is far too high.

However, you also know that he’s half guessed it by the time you all make it to the reception. When you and Dean came out of that dressing room to join the bridal party for pictures, you're sure that you looked emotionally wrecked. Dean had looked pale as a sheet, his body coiled and tense, as willing himself to seem normal. Sam had clocked both of you with a raise of his brow, but he didn't say anything then, especially after you gave him a pleading look.

While Eileen greets her family without him for a moment, Sam pulls you aside. He notes your glass of diet coke, in a moderate sea of guests drinking champagne and cocktails.

“Are you okay?” he asks knowingly.

Tears well up in your eyes again. You don’t know if it’s your damn hormones going haywire, or just the way Sam asks you, with the love of a friend in his eyes. He squeezes your shoulder gently, prompting you with your name.

“Yeah, I think I will be,” you say.

"Is it the same reason you're not drinking?" he asks. "You and Dean earlier..."

You hesitantly confirm with a nod. Sam blows out a harsh sigh, raising folded hands to his mouth as he processes. You begin to look around on reflex, trying to see if anyone's watching you and Sam have this conversation in the middle of the reception. To your relief, everyone around you seems occupied with drinks, hours d'oeuvres and conversation.

“What did he say when you told him?” Sam asks. His gaze is firmer. You get the idea that if he doesn’t like what you tell him, then he’s about to go grab his brother by the ear himself.

You grab his wrist and give a placating squeeze. “He said he's going to help me, be there for me.”

“Damn right. So will I,” Sam nods, and glances back at Eileen, his new bride, with a smile. “We both will.”

“I know,” you nod as well. “I’ll be okay, Sam. You don’t have to worry so much. Just enjoy your wedding day. It’s the only one you’re gonna get. Well, you know…hopefully.”

You tease him with a wink.

Sam laughs, cupping your cheek. He kisses your other cheek.

“I love you, you know that right?” he says.

You give him a trembling smile through your tears.

Meanwhile, Dean has a beautiful woman in his arms. He turns Lisa on the dancefloor, trying not to trip on his own dress shoes, all the while knowing that his brain isn’t here in his body. It’s across the ballroom, watching you talk to Sam. Dean can tell that he knows, just in his Big Bird body language. He’d also recognize that accompanying Bitch Face anywhere.

“Dean, what’s wrong,” Lisa asks him, and not for the first time. She’s getting annoyed, he can tell. She finally looks over to where he keeps glancing, and she notices you with a frown. It’s also not the first time she’s caught him staring at you tonight.

“What was that earlier in the dressing room? She didn’t really get food poisoning, did she?” she asks pointedly. “What, did you two used to date or something?”

He gives a wan smile. “Yeah, kinda. We…had a thing once.”

“What kind of thing?”

Dean closes his eyes and tries to keep himself calm. He’s pretty sure if he tells her the truth right now, she’s going to find the nearest cocktail and dump it over his head.

But shit, here it goes.

“Well…”

After a long day at school, you drive over to Dean’s apartment. You’d agreed to meet there and wait for him to get off his shift at Firehouse 83, where he just started as a full-fledged firefighter on probation. When he gets home, he’s supposed to go with you to an important appointment with your OB-GYN. 

You were hoping he’d already be done with work by the time you got to his place, but Lisa's there to open the door for you. Apparently, he’d already given her a key.

Moving kind of fast, but okay, you think. A second later, you could’ve rolled your eyes at yourself. Pot, kettle, me. Got it.

Lisa greets you with a “polite” smile at best, but she does offer you water at least. You really can’t blame her for not liking you though. She found out her boyfriend got another woman pregnant right before he started dating her. Really, she has more balls than you for staying with him. You wouldn't put it past Dean to somehow have smooth-talked her into giving him a chance.

Or she really loves him. The thought sobers you as you lower yourself down to the couch beside her. Both of you sit there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out something to talk about.

“So, you’re what, six months pregnant?” she asks.

You correct her in thinly veiled annoyance. “Three months, actually.”

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why I thought it was six.”

You have a feeling her awkward chuckle is fake, however. She knew good and damn well that you’re not six months pregnant. In her eyes, you must be the size of a parade float. 

“If you want, I can recommend a holistic diet to help you get your body back after the baby’s born,” Lisa offers. “No pills, no chemicals. Just good clean weight loss.”

You feign interest. Honestly, you’d like her to cram that offer right up her hooch.

“I can even give you a discount if you want to try out yoga,” she says. “It’s low impact, but you burn plenty of calories. I have a beginner’s class, not too strenuous. Even my least flexible clients manage to do the poses.”

Is that why Dean likes you? Because you’re bendy? Bet if I sat on you, you’d pop like a fucking balloon.

You hide all of these thoughts behind a “polite” smile of your own.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you reply. It’s non-committal enough, but hopefully it’ll get her off your back.

No such luck.

“You know, maintaining a healthy diet is really important for the baby’s health too,” Lisa adds. “It’s not just about avoided raw fish and dairy products. Oh, and processed food is obviously a no-go. Like, I’m sure you haven’t been hitting Taco Bell and all that stuff, right?”

As a matter of fact, you’ve been eating clean since long before you got pregnant. Not that it’s any business of hers whether you enjoy the occasional quesadilla or not.

Your temper snaps at its leash. You open your mouth to reply, when the front door unlocks and opens to Dean, stepping in through the threshold.

Thank God, you and Lisa both think. She gets up quicker from the couch than you, greeting her boyfriend with a kiss. You avert your gaze while you begin to get up yourself.

Dean reaches out to help you, grasping your arm in support. You shoot him a smile.

“I can still get up by myself,” you snip.

“Yeah, all right. Just in case,” he says with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s rock and roll,” you say, trying to hide your worsening mood. You’re exhausted, and irritated, and probably more than a little hangry. Except now, the idea of food just has you feeling guilty for even being hungry.

“Bye, hun. Hope you have a good appointment,” Lisa says, giving your shoulder a pat. You give her the most genuine smile you can muster as you thank her. It's possibly that she's one of those women who don't realize when they're being cunty, but you find it highly unlikely. She's too smart for that.

You follow Dean out the door and over to his car, big and black and sleek as you remember. You settle into the passenger seat with your arms crossed in silence. Dean switches the cassette to one of his favorite Led Zeppelin albums, though he notices your grumpy face.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

You give him some side-eye, but you’re reluctant to say anything. You just shake your head. As irritated as you are, you don’t want to be the friend who badmouths his girlfriend.

God, are we even friends? You wonder. Or am I just his knocked-up baby momma?

And again, you realize that this whole situation is probably hard for Lisa. You just don’t know if she’s jealous, or if she just…doesn’t like you.

“I’m okay,” you tell Dean.

He raises a skeptical brow. Looks like Sam isn’t the only one with a finely tuned bullshit meter.

“All right, how about this,” Dean says. “Let’s grab some burgers after this, huh? From your favorite spot. Shake Shack, right? Side of fries, frozen yogurt. I think I’ll get chocolate this time… Hmm, I doubt Lisa will want anything. She’s gone on an all-vegan kick or something.”

For one shining moment, you were happy and touched at his consideration. But now your body stills in your seat when you remember Lisa’s words. Tears well up in your eyes with a hot sting, and a sob escapes your throat.

Dean is cut off from thinking about getting extra bacon on his burger. He looks over at you in alarm. “H-Hey, what’s the matter?”

You scoff at him through your tears. “Are you kidding me? I can’t eat burgers anymore, Dean. I was already fucking fat. Now it’s just gonna get ridiculous.”

“What?” Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, along with his deepening frown. It gets worse as he tries to watch the road ahead, while at the same time, watching you continue to crumble.

“And after the birth, I’m just going to be an even fatter slob who can’t take care of her baby,” you sniffle and weep, trying in vain to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself.

Dean grits his teeth, his jaw twitching. Fuck it.

He turns the steering wheel sharp enough to startle a gasp out of you.

“Dean!”

He pulls the car over onto the side of the road, ignoring the honking SUV behind him. He shifts into Park and shuts off the radio—a big red flag, in your opinion. He’s upset too, and fucking serious, more so than you’ve ever seen him. You stare back at him with wide eyes.

“I’ve never once heard you say that you’re fat,” he says.

You blink at that, but eventually, you’re able to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth. You wipe the remnants of tears from your cheeks. Your face is already hot from your upset, now tinged with embarrassment.

“You haven’t known me very long,” you say quietly.

It doesn’t help. Dean’s jaw ticks again.

“Well, I’ve never thought it. Not even once,” he says. His jade green eyes are firmly set on yours, and he gestures between you and him with a pointed finger. “The reason you and I are here right now, is because the minute I saw you, I wanted you.”

One corner of his lips kicks upwards. “And that night, you didn’t disappoint.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. You don’t know how to respond, but you do know that a full blush is warming your face and neck. His words have power, and unbidden, they bloom a similar warmth between your legs. You swallow a bit nervously as you bite your bottom lip.

Dean glances down at your mouth when you do. He can remember what your pretty mouth did for him that night. Oh, he remembers all too well. He even had the shade of your lipstick streaked across his skin until he showered up at the firehouse.

He locks that all away when shifts the car back into Drive. If you’re going to make it to this appointment on time, he needs to get going.

And you both have to leave whatever that was right here by the side of the road.

AN: Woo! 😮‍💨 Yep, this is only Part 1, friends. Lisa is a bit different in this. My take was that without Ben in her life, she might be less mature and a bit more catty. As we get into Part 2 I'll leave it up to you to decide why she decides to stay with Dean, and perhaps more importantly, where the reader and Dean can go from here as co-parents. 🤔

If you enjoyed Part 1, please let me know!~

Next Time in Part 2:

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look, I…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours, and achingly familiar.

⋆˙⟡ Keep Reading: Part 2

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[cheynovak]

Buckle Bunny Blues

Part 1 introduction

Summary: Tess is a plus size girl who joined her friends to a rodeo. Here she meets Kayce, a washed up country singer who is back in town to support his little brother and father on the ranch.

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

Kayce Daniels leaned against the fence, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching as his younger brother, Colton, prepared for his next ride.

The energy of the rodeo pulsed around him—cheers, the stomp of restless hooves, and the twang of a country song playing over the speakers. It was familiar, almost nostalgic. Yet, Kayce felt like a spectator in his own world these days.

He had to come home since his old man was sick and Colton rather competed than taking care of the range. And unfortunately, his own career was failing too.

He had a tour cancelled and the last year was a bummer in record sales. It seemed like no one seemed to listen to country anymore, the only wanted the spectacle of the rodeo.

Beside him, his friends Jack and Brett were less interested in the competition and more focused on the buckle bunnies fluttering around the arena. Jack had his sights locked on Stephany, a blonde with a bright, flirtatious smile. Kayce rolled his eyes as Jack nudged Brett. “Man, look at her. Tell me she ain’t the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.”

“She’s somethin’,” Brett agreed with a chuckle. “You ever get tired of chasin’ bunnies?”

Jack grinned. “Hell no.”

Kayce exhaled, shaking his head. “When are y’all gonna grow up?”

Brett smirked and turned to him. “Oh, don’t even start, Daniels. You used to be worse than any of us. I remember when you could sweet-talk any woman in this arena.”

Jack laughed. “Yeah, but now? When’s the last time Kayce took a woman home?”

Kayce shrugged, tipping his beer back. “Ain’t about that anymore.”

“Please,” Brett scoffed. “You sayin’ you couldn’t if you wanted to?”

Kayce arched a brow. “I could take home any woman I wanted.”

Jack and Brett exchanged mischievous looks. “Alright then,” Jack said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Let’s make it a challenge.”

Kayce sighed. “What kind of challenge?”

Brett clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We pick the woman you have to ride for the night.” Kayce narrowed his eyes, but he wasn’t about to back down. “Fine. Who?”

Jack scanned the crowd, eyes flitting past the usual rodeo girls before landing on someone unexpected. She sat alone at a small, absentmindedly swirling a straw in her drink. She wasn’t like the buckle bunnies throwing themselves at cowboys. She was quiet, reserved, almost detached from the chaos around her.

But most of all, not the type Kayce would normally go for.

Jack smirked. “Her.”

Kayce turned his head just as she lifted her gaze. Their eyes met, and for a split second, the noise of the rodeo faded into the background. There was something different in her expression—not the usual wide-eyed admiration he was used to. She wasn’t looking at him like he was a star.

She was looking at him like a deer in head lights.

--

Tess had never been a rodeo girl. Unlike her best friends, who thrived in tight jeans and rhinestone tops, batting their lashes at cowboys, she preferred to keep to the sidelines. She wasn’t built like them—small and lean, with an effortless confidence. No, she was tall and very curvy. And though she owned her body in private moments, it was hard not to feel out of place when surrounded by women who looked like they’d stepped out of a country music video.

So when her friends dragged her to the rodeo that evening, she knew her role. She would watch. She would smile. She would sit alone, nursing a drink while they worked their magic on the nearest cowboy.

It didn’t take long before their attention fell on the group of men standing near the fence line, laughing and drinking beer. One, in particular, had their full focus—Kayce Daniels. Mid-thirties, country singer, broad-shouldered, with dark blond hair that curled just past his ears, a gruff beard that made him look rugged instead of untamed, and the kind of green eyes that made a woman forget her own name.

His younger brother, Colton, was the one actually competing today, but Kayce had stolen the spotlight without even trying.

Tess sighed, taking a sip of her soda as her friends giggled their way over to the group. It wasn’t that she was jealous—not exactly. She just knew how this would go. She’d be invisible while they did what they did best. She’d sit at the bar, swirl her straw in her drink, and keep herself entertained with whatever rodeo chaos unfolded around her.

But as the night went on, she felt something strange. A presence. Every now and then, she’d glance up and catch Kayce looking her way. Not in a passing, absentminded sort of way. No, his gaze lingered, thoughtful, like he was trying to piece her together. She’d quickly look away, unsure how to handle being the subject of his attention.

Eventually, when her friends disappeared into the crowd, she found herself alone at a small table outside. The cool air was a relief from the packed arena, and she exhaled, letting the tension slip from her shoulders.

“Mind if I sit?”

She jumped at the deep voice, looking up to find Kayce standing there, beer in hand, watching her with those damn green eyes.

“Uh—yeah, sure.”

He pulled out the chair across from her and settled in, drumming his fingers against the side of his bottle. “Not much for the crowd?”

She huffed a quiet laugh. “Not really my scene.”

He nodded like he understood, his gaze never straying. “Seems like your friends are havin’ a good time.”

“They usually do.” She glanced down at her hands, suddenly hyperaware of herself. “I’m more of a background kind of girl.”

Kayce tilted his head, studying her. “Funny. I’ve been watchin’ you all night, and you don’t seem like background to me.”

Her stomach flipped. She blinked, not sure if she’d heard him right. “What?”

He smirked, taking a slow sip of his beer. “I mean, they’re pretty and all, but I like the quiet ones. The ones who don’t need all the noise to be worth lookin’ at.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I—I don’t know what to say to that.”

He chuckled. “You don’t gotta say anything. Just let me sit here for a while.”

--

Taglist for this story is open.

[deans-baby-momma]

Oh, this is going to be soooo good! I can already tell. And, Kayce is going to have his work cut out for him. Can't wait to read more @cheynovak

[leigh70]

@cheynovak - can you please tag me?? This is an amazing start to what I just know if going to be a fantastic ride!!!!!

[princessmisery666]

Maverick's Annual Scavenger Hunt Master List (3 Part Mini Series)

Summary: You and Jake have been dancing around each other for a while. The Dagger Squad set it up so that the dancing stops, but a case of miscommunication could ruin it all. 

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: Fluff, flirting, teasing, smut, miscommunication, angst. 

W/C: 12k (3 parts)

Characters: Unnamed female reader (you/she/her), Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace, Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado. Small Parts/Mentioned: The rest of Dagger Squad, Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, Penny Benjamin. 

Pairing: Hangman x Female Reader. Phoenix x Coyote. Mentioned: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x Penny Benjamin.

Notes: Reader has a call sign. 

A/N: @deanwinchesterswitch sent me this ask a while ago to inspire the muses so here it is. @writercole helped kick the muses when they wanted to give up and gave me the idea for Coyote's car in Part 3.

Beta(s): @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes are mine.

Graphics: made by me on Canva.

Master Lists: Top Gun Maverick // Main

Series Complete.

Part 1 - Maverick's Annual Scavenger Hunt

Part 2 - The Full Seresin Service

Part 3 - Didn't Know Then What I Know Now

[leigh70]

Funny. Sweet, sarcastic and hot!!!! Fantastic read that will leave you wanting….with a smile!😏😉

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Sexy Baby?

(x)

Summary: Y/N is humiliated. Can meeting Jensen make things better? (P.S. Sometimes I hate writing summaries. 😩😄)

Pairing: Jensen x Plus-sized!eader (Y/N)

Warnings: None really. Embarrassed reader. Hurt reader. Body shaming asshole. Kissing. Fluff. Jensen being the ultimate, incredible man. 😁❤️

Word Count: 4,168

A/N: This fic was a request by a lovely anon. It turned out fluffier and less smutty than I was originally thinking, Nonny, so I hope it still works for you. ❤️

This fic also incorporates this gif request sent in by @suckitands33 for my 2K followers celebration. Here is the gif I reference in this fic:

(x)

This was meant to be a drabble request, and looking at the word count you can see that this is most decidedly NOT a drabble. 😄 But I hope you like what I've come up with anyway. ❤️

If you enjoy the fic, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment. It means a lot. ❤️

A/N 2: As always this fic is about a different, multiverse version of Jensen, who is single. This is a complete and utter work of fiction.

It was one of Y/N’s most humiliating experiences during what should have been one of her most exciting moments.

She'd waited years and years to get to a Supernatural convention. She'd been a fan of the show for a very long time, and she simply adored the whole cast. The camaraderie of the boys and the kindness of the whole SPN Family had helped her through some very dark times. 

So to finally be at a con, and standing in line, waiting for a photo op with her absolute favorite actor of all time, Jensen Ackles? It felt like a dream. 

But she was so nervous. She'd never met anyone famous, let alone the guy she'd had a crush on for nearly half her life. Jensen was beautiful beyond words, sexy and charming, and everyone seemed to fall in love with him. So meeting him was daunting to say the least. 

As she approached the front of the line she finally got a look at him as he posed with other fans. He wore a slightly distressed, light beige sweater and tight fitting black jeans. He was so unbelievably tall in person, so solid, and if possible, even more gorgeous than he was on film. That magnetism he had, the kind that lit up the screen so easily and quickly drew everyone into the characters he played, was on full display and almost too brilliant in real life. She felt her lower belly tighten as butterflies erupted inside her. 

Finally, when Y/N was second in line, Jensen looked over and caught her eye, giving her a little smile and a wave. She blushed beet red and waved back, feeling like a complete idiot, but beaming nonetheless.

The woman in front of her walked up to Jensen and made a suggestion for a pose. One of the handlers seemed like they weren’t sure about allowing it, but Jensen waved away their worries, smiling at the fan and nodding, saying something that made her giggle. Then he wrapped his arm around her back and under her legs, picking her up from the ground. The woman squealed slightly, but then they did the pose. The woman had her arms flung wide in celebration, smile shining, and Jensen had his mouth open in a comically huge smile. It looked like they’d both won the lottery or something.

It was adorable.

Then it was finished and it was Y/N’s turn. She tried to take deep, steadying breaths as the previous fan said goodbye quickly. Before she walked up though, a staff member approached Jensen. He looked like he worked for the venue and not Creation, because he wore a uniform with the hotel’s name emblazoned on the back. Jensen’s smile shrank as he walked up; he didn’t look particularly happy to see him. 

The guy said something about switching rooms for autographs and Jensen just nodded. Then, as he was leaving, he looked over at Y/N waiting to be next, and turned to Jensen with a mocking smile.

“Wouldn’t try that last pose with this one.” He said with a nod towards Y/N at the front of the line.

Y/N felt like someone had kicked her in the stomach. All the air left her lungs and her eyes welled up instantly, her chest was immediately on fire from the shame she was swallowing down in big gulps.

She’d been chubby her whole life; she couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t dieting and desperately trying to lose weight. It was her biggest insecurity that she couldn’t slip under 250 pounds no matter what she tried. She’d been that weight for a decade or more and no amount of dieting or exercising seemed to change that. 

She was also tall for a woman, and so she often felt like…how did Taylor put it?

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby And I'm a monster on the hill

And now here she was in front of the man she’d dreamt about and fantasized about for so long, and this was how he was going to see her now - the way this jackass saw her.

She felt sick to her stomach.

She let her glance skitter to Jensen, but he wasn’t looking at her, he was glaring at the guy who was starting to walk away. He followed him and in two long strides caught him, grabbing his arm and spinning the guy around to face him.

They were close enough now that Y/N could hear what they were saying, even though Jensen was speaking in an angry, whiphard, whisper.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

The guy flung his arms out. “Come on, man. It was just a joke.”

Jensen shook his head and his face was like stone. “No, it wasn’t. And you know how I know it wasn’t a joke? Cause it wasn’t fucking funny. You’re an asshole, and if I catch you saying shit like that again about anybody here, I’ll be talking to your boss, and letting them know that we'll be looking for another venue next year.” He gave him a humorless smile. “And I’ll be sure to tell him just who he has to thank for that.”

The guy mumbled something that must have been an apology because Jensen let go of his arm and the guy beat a swift retreat. Y/N watched Jensen take a deep breath and then he approached her at the front of the line. 

She knew the people around her had heard what the guy said because they were calling the guy a prick too and telling her to ignore his bullshit. The woman behind her, who she’d never met, was rubbing circles on her back, trying to soothe the pain the jackass had caused.

That kind gesture along with the way Jensen held out his hand towards her and smiled so warmly, made tears start to fall silently. She couldn’t help it. She took Jensen’s warm hand and allowed him to pull her over to stand in front of the camera, quickly brushing her tears away with her free hand.

She’d never wanted to be in a picture less, and as they approached the spot, she shook her head and tried to pull her hand free.

She cleared her throat and stared at the floor. “Maybe, I’ll just…could I just get the picture with just you in it? Any pose you want to do will be fine.” She said, her slightly stuffy nose muffling her words.

Jensen turned back to her and tilted his head to catch her eye. “I can, if you want, but I’d sure love a picture with you. Whaddya say?” He asked with a bright smile.

Y/N realized it would be physically impossible to say no to this man, so she shrugged and walked into position in front of the camera.

“What pose do you want, sweetheart?” 

Y/N swallowed hard and forced herself not to cry. “Would you just…I’d just like a hug, if that’s okay.”

Jensen nodded. “Absolutely.”

So he opened his arms and Y/N stepped into them. She wrapped her hands under his arms and around his ribcage. His left arm was closest to the camera and he wrapped that one around her shoulders. His right arm came up over her shoulders too, but he used that hand to press her cheek to his chest, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

She’d never felt so cocooned in safety in her whole life. His arms were strong around her, applying just the right pressure to make her feel completely protected. After the way her heart had just been pulverized, it felt healing. She wanted to stay right there forever.

She heard the click of the camera, though, and opened her eyes. Jensen kept her wrapped in his arms for a little longer, before giving her an extra squeeze and stepping back.

“Thank you.” Y/N said shyly.

“Thank you.” Jensen responded, cupping her shoulder briefly. “Take care. Hope to see you again this weekend.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for his kindness, but recognizing that he felt bad for her too which brought on more embarrassment. So she just nodded at Chris who was snapping the pictures, and took off out of the photo op area. 

She went to the bathroom immediately and locked herself in the stall, allowing herself to cry quietly at length. For more than half an hour she sat in the stall, covering her mouth to keep from making too much noise. But finally her tears slowed and then dried up, the crack in her heart receding into just another scar there. She stayed in the bathroom another twenty minutes, dabbing at her puffy eyes with cool paper towels.

When she felt she was presentable enough, she finally left the restroom and headed over to pick up her photo op package. As she stood by the table, waiting for hers to show up, one of the women she recognized as a handler approached her. 

She smiled kindly, though she seemed a little frazzled which Y/N could definitely understand. “Hi! We actually picked up your photo op. If you follow me, we can get it for you.”

Y/N thought that was a little odd. Was there something wrong with the picture? But she nodded and followed along quickly as the handler practically sprinted away.

They walked down a hallway in the hotel and then through a couple of doors until they emerged in a mostly empty hallway, just a few employees scurrying around busily. Finally the woman she was following stopped and knocked lightly on a door, waiting a moment and then opening it and showing Y/N into a beautifully appointed suite. The furniture was subtly luxurious and elegant, the floors and fixtures were cool and understated while still being sleek and trendy.

But by far the most beautiful part of the room was the man sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, with what looked like a script in his hand.

He looked up as they walked in and a smile broke out on his face as he dropped the script onto the table in front of him. “Hey! We found you! Thanks Amanda!”

Amanda nodded and shot him a smile. “No problem!” She said as she spun around and took off, closing the door behind her and suddenly leaving Y/N alone with Jensen.

As though he was reading her mind, Jensen pointed towards the door. “If you’d feel more comfortable, we can open it again.”

But Y/N couldn’t have felt less afraid or worried about her safety being alone with the man in front of her, so she just shook her head. She was bound to act like an idiot in front of him and the less prying eyes watching that the better. 

Jensen smiled. “Okay, well do you want a drink? Help yourself.” He said, pointing to a table with coffee, tea, and water bottles. “We could probably get you a coke or something, if you’d rather.”

She shook her head again, but forced herself to utter words this time. “No thank you, I’m fine.”

“Okay, well in that case you’re probably wondering what the hell I tracked you down for.” He said with a soft smile.

Y/N smiled back. “A little.”

Jensen waved at the spot beside him on the couch. “Wanna sit down?”

She took him up on that offer since her knees were a little wobbly and she didn’t really trust them. 

He reached over to the table beside the couch and pulled up a glossy 8x10 photo. “Well, to begin with, I do have your photo.”

He handed it over and Y/N felt herself blush. Despite the fact that she was in it, it was a beautiful picture. Her eyes were closed and so were Jensen’s as he held her protectively cuddled against him. The picture would always remind her of just how safe she’d felt in that moment, and she was grateful to take it home.

“Thank you.” She said quietly. “You were great.” 

“And you were beautiful.” He shook his head. “No, you ARE beautiful.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush an even deeper red. “It’s really okay, I’m fine. I mean the guy was a jerk, but you don’t have to try and make me feel better. It’s hardly the first time.” She shrugged. “I can take it.”

Jensen shifted slightly closer to her, turning on the couch so he was facing her. “I’m not trying to make you feel better.”

She shot him a disbelieving look and he chuckled. “Well, I guess I am, but that’s just a bonus of telling you the truth. And the truth is, Y/N, you're beautiful.” 

Y/N shot him a slightly wide-eyed look. “How do you know my name?”

He pointed to her picture and smiled. “I got it from the photo op package. Promise I’m not psychic. Or a stalker”

Y/N giggled and covered her mouth at the sound, apologizing. “Sorry.”

Jensen reached up and pulled her hand away from her smile. “Don’t do that. Don’t cover up your laugh and certainly don’t apologize for it.”

Y/N shrugged again and looked down at her lap and the hand that Jensen still held. He came slightly closer and tipped up her chin.

“I wanted to see you because the last thing I wanted was for you to walk away from this weekend thinking less of yourself because of some asshole with a big mouth and a mean streak. It was…”He took a deep breath. “It was bothering me a lot.”

Y/N was frustrated with herself that she couldn’t stop the tears that formed again at Jensen’s kind words. She dashed them away quickly with her free hand. 

“Sorry.” She apologized again. “I know I don’t owe some rude jackass my tears and hurt, but sometimes it’s hard to just shove them down, you know.”

Jensen cupped her cheek warmly and brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. “Don’t shove them down, sweetheart, throw them away. His words are bullshit. They’re just wrong. Wanna know how I know?”

Y/N nodded, completely mesmerized by his mossy green gaze as he answered, his voice vehement. “I know he’s wrong, because it’s obvious for anyone to see that you’re utterly beautiful.”

Y/N started to scoff, but he cut her off. “I wanted to kiss you. Still do.”

Y/N choked heartily on the words that sputtered out of her, forgetting how to breathe normally. Jensen looked slightly abashed and it was his turn to stare at his lap. “God, I hope you don’t think I’m some creepy weirdo. I’m not…I don’t expect anything from you…this isn’t…” 

He sighed. “Shit, I didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that. I just wanted to try and make you understand that I’m not lying to make you feel better, I’m not just trying to make a sweet girl feel better about herself, though I want you to. But I wanted you to know that I was and am genuinely, undeniably attracted to you. From the moment I looked over and saw you standing in that line.”

He shrugged and shifted back slightly. “But I totally get if I’ve creeped you out and you wanna go. I’m sorry.”

But Y/N just stared at him bug eyed. She spoke softly and slowly, still stammering slightly. “You wa-wanna kiss m-me.”

He gave her a lopsided smile and a shrug. “It’s the truth.”

“Since you saw me in line?” She said by way of clarification.

He nodded. “Yep.”

She blinked rapidly and then bit her lip. She caught the way Jensen’s eyes flickered down to her mouth and the way his gaze heated, setting her body on fire. 

“Oh my god.” She whispered in disbelief. Then she shook her head and grinned at him. “Well, I’ve wanted to kiss you for about a decade…so…” She trailed off and Jensen gave a surprised laugh that turned into a warm and mischievous smile. 

“Well, in that case,” he said slowly, “I think you should go first.” He tapped lightly on his cupid’s bow mouth, indicating that she should kiss him there and Y/N thought she might actually pass out. 

She leaned forward tentatively, her head cloudy and the world around her surreal, and pressed her lips to his very briefly and gently before pulling back.

Jensen opened his eyes and a slow sexy smile spread across his face. “That was sweet, darlin’. But I gotta say, ten years of thinking and that’s all you got? I’ve been thinking about you for barely two hours, and I can promise you, I imagined way more than that sweet little angel kiss.”

Y/N felt her lower belly clench with want. “Okay, then show me.” She said, hardly able to believe her daring. 

But it felt like she was being presented with a buffet of her favorite foods when she’d been starving and there was no way she was going to pass up the opportunity in front of her.

Jensen leaned forward and slid his big hand into her hair, holding her head in place as he pressed his mouth to hers gently, taking teasing sips from her lips and making her whimper slightly. She was embarrassed by the sound, but it made Jensen tighten his grip in her hair and growl slightly into her open mouth, finally sweeping his tongue inside and completely devouring her. 

Y/N grabbed onto Jensen’s soft sweater and fisted it in her hands over and over, reveling in the feel of hard muscle beneath her palms. Jensen kissed her long and lustfully. His left hand stayed bunched in her hair, but he let his right hand slide up and down her arm before he slid it around to push against her back, just between her shoulder blades. 

He pressed her tightly to his chest as he continued to rob her of air. Finally, he broke off the kiss, leaving them both panting as he pressed his lips just beneath her jaw and down her neck. 

Her mind felt like it was on fire, everything was spinning and the world was just going too fast. As though he really was the psychic he denied being, Jensen seemed to know she needed to catch her breath, figuratively and literally, and he pulled back to press his forehead to hers.

“Sorry, got a little carried away.”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, no…that was…you’re perfect.”

Jensen chuckled. “You stole the words right out of my mouth, sweetheart.”

When they’d regained their breath, Jensen kissed her chastely and then tucked her hair behind her ear.

“So, you going to the panel tomorrow?”

Y/N nodded and gave a soft smile. “Of course.”

“Do you have plans tonight?”

Y/N felt like her heart might actually burst. She shook her head. “None that aren’t breakable.”

The next day at the panel, Y/N sat in the third row, feeling as though the whole world was brand new.

She could still hardly believe it, but the night before she and Jensen had gone out to dinner at a very nice restaurant, and the conversation between them had been remarkably easy and laced with laughter and fun. 

After dinner they’d gone for a long walk and talked some more before finding a quiet park bench and making out like teenagers. Jensen’s mouth had branded her skin as his alone, and she knew he owned her now, body and soul. She was pretty sure he felt the same way, or at least something like it. He’d been very open about how much he wanted her, vocal in his desire and need for her. 

It was the first time in her life that she’d felt truly, unequivocally beautiful and it opened up the world around her; colors seemed brighter and she knew that she was glowing.

Barely twenty-four hours after standing heartbroken and humiliated in Jensen’s arms, she sat in the audience, watching him on stage, feeling alive and truly happy in a way that was a little scary, but wholly exhilarating too.

The panel was wonderful; the boys were hilarious and warm as always. As the music started for the last question, Y/N expected Jensen to go off and sing with Rob as he usually did. But instead he looked right at her in the audience, standing up quickly and crooking his finger at her, beckoning her forward. 

Amanda, the woman who’d brought her to the hotel suite yesterday, was standing at the end of the row, and gestured for her to leave her seat and follow her to the stage. Y/N was shaking from head to toe as she followed her up the stairs to where Jared was waiting for her, escorting her over to Jensen who took her hand and led her back to the chair sitting in the middle of the stage, helping her hop up onto it. 

She looked out across the huge audience and panicked a little at the size of the crowd, until she made herself actually look at everyone’s faces. They were all smiling and beaming at her, and she thought of the boys’ oft repeated phrase: “You’re surrounded by family.” She suddenly felt a sense of belonging that was almost unprecedented in her life.

The music ended and the audience’s cheering fell away as Jared looked out at the crowd. “Everyone, say hello to Y/N! Y/N say hello to your SPN family!” There was more clapping and cheering as Y/N waved shyly. It occurred to her then, that she hadn’t told Jared her name, which meant Jensen must have told him about her. At least, enough that Jared agreed to break the usual routine of the last question going to one of the people standing in line. 

Y/N felt a little guilty that she was taking their place, but when she looked at the women standing at the microphones she could see them smiling and clapping along.

Jensen put his arm around her shoulders and she shivered. Raising the microphone, he shot her a mischievous smile before speaking.

“So, Y/N, how was your evening last night? You enjoying yourself?”

Y/N blushed beet red, and just nodded. Jared punched Jensen lightly and took pity on her. “Do you have a question for us?”

She wasn’t prepared at all, having never expected to be in this position, but she gave it a go as both boys lowered their microphone so she could speak into it.

She took a deep breath. “I wasn’t expecting to be up here, so I don’t…I don’t have a question ready, but I’d like to take a moment to say thank you.”

She looked out at the audience. “Some of you were in the photo op line with me when I experienced something really embarrassing. Every one of you were kind about it and supportive, and I greatly appreciate it.”

She looked at Jared. “You promote so much love and support in your AKF campaigns and with all of us fans, and I’m so grateful for that because you encourage us all to be better people.”

Jared put his hand on his heart and looked down at the ground, humbly accepting her gratitude. Then she looked at Jensen and her eyes welled up a little.

“Jensen, you made me feel truly safe and beautiful at a time when I would have sworn that was impossible, and whatever happens in my future, I’ll hold on to that feeling for the rest of my life and keep thanking you, always.”

Jensen leaned down, and for a wild moment she thought he might kiss her right on stage, but he just kissed her cheek and gave her a hug. But his voice was low and seductive in her ear.

“You’re more than welcome, sweetheart, and thank you for yesterday, and hopefully, for later tonight too?”

He pulled back slightly and Y/N blushed at the look of hunger in his eye, but she nodded her head quickly. “God yes.”

His smile was wide as he squeezed her hand and helped her hop down from the chair, waving as she left the stage with Jared and tossing her a wink that made her right knee wobble slightly, so that Jared had to steady her.

He chuckled as he helped her down the stairs and then gave her a bear hug at the bottom. He whispered in Y/N’s ear as the band played loudly and Jensen sang joyfully with Rob.

“So you’re the one my boy wouldn’t shut up about last night. I know him pretty well, so I feel completely confident that I’ll see you again soon.” He shot her a grin and squeezed her shoulders.

Y/N moved off to the side, not bothering to go back to her seat, just looking up at the stage and knowing in heart of hearts that this weekend had changed her whole life.

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

@hobby27 @waywardcheshire @libby99hb @k-slla @leigh70

@whimsyfinny @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl

@eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

@fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe @lastcallatrockysbar

[leigh70]

Just want to say that as someone who has had the pleasure of locking eyes with Jensen for about six seconds (while in line to get his autograph) I can only say…gonna be rereading this one often!!!!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Masterlist

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Chapters linked under the cut:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

[leigh70]

If you are a fan of Bridgerton and a fan of Supernatural (and specifically a Dean girl), I cannot recommend this fic highly enough. Or even if you are just a fan of one but not the other, really won’t make a difference. it will make you laugh, cry, yearn. It will frustrate you and give you hope. You will feel ALL the feels and will adore every second you spend in this world!!!

[impala-dreamer]

Worn Out Leather

A Supernatural Story

~ It isn't easy, but you know when it's time to go.~

Dean Winchester x Reader

5,267 Words

Warnings: Super Relationship Angst. Sexual Scenes. Show-Level Action and Blood.

A/N: This stands for my "strained relationship" square for @jacklesversebingo Hope you enjoy! If you've ever had a breakup like this, you probably won't get through without tissues... just FYI.

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Things hadn’t been right in a long time. 

There were vicious fights that erupted out of nowhere. Fists found their way into walls, biting words struck their targets, eyes glared like daggers. 

It hadn’t felt like love in a long time, but neither wanted to admit it. 

There were good times too. Late nights spent passing a bottle back and forth, roaming kisses that sent tingles down their spines, hands reaching for each other in the dark. 

Once upon a time, it had been love. Whether true or imagined, passion-fueled or written in the stars, it had been there. 

It had been something altogether different for each of them. 

Now, Y/N sat on the bed, propped up by a stack of dying pillows. Her legs were crossed and her fingers gently turned the pages of an old book she’d found in the library. Something about it had struck her fancy hours ago, but the pale, handwritten words inside were now blurs on the yellowed pages. Her attention was gone; her mind was somewhere else. 

She stared off into nothingness, lost in the void between her eyes and the edge of the bed. If she was calm enough, she could see flecks of dust dance like snowflakes in the light, cast down like disobedient angels from heaven, floating on the warm air coming from the vents above. 

She didn’t notice when he walked in and didn’t bother to tear her gaze away from the dust. 

He did what he always did before coming to bed. 

First, he tugged off his flannel and tossed it onto the desk chair. Then, he sat on the foot of the bed and lifted his right leg. With a dramatic flourish, he tugged the frayed shoelace end and whipped it into the air, undoing the knot. 

She watched as he worked- one boot, and then the other. The thick muscles of his shoulders tensed then relaxed, and long the line of his spine bent then straightened. She used to love watching his body move. Loved his broad shoulders, and trim hips. She loved to stare at the nape of his neck, the soft spot where his hair stopped and his freckles started. Loved to think about running her lips across the velvet of his skin and feeling the short hairs tickle her cheek. 

Now, she stared with ice shards in her gaze, wondering if he would even speak to her before going to sleep or if another night lingering in heavy silence was their fate. 

His voice all but startled her, knocking her thoughts far away. 

“You still mad at me?” he asked. His chin was turned towards her over his shoulder, but his heavy eyes refused to lift to meet hers. 

Y/N clenched her jaw. “Yeah.” 

Dean exhaled loudly in a huff that hid a thousand harsh words. “Awesome.” 

‘Was it awesome?’ she thought. Had it ever been? What were they fighting so hard to keep? 

She turned the page with such annoyance that the force of it nearly ripped the fragile paper. With similar angst, Dean ripped the blanket back on his side of the bed giving it a tug. Y/N sighed curtly and closed her book. She moved slowly while he waited, knowing that he couldn’t move again until she placed her book on the nightstand and got up off of the blanket. He bit down hard on his bottom lip and curled his fist into the blanket corner. 

Finally, she moved and he pulled the blanket down for both of them to crawl beneath. 

The mattress didn’t move as they slid into their respective places. The foam remembered them, how they used to curl into each other’s sides; how Dean would rest his head on her shoulder while he slept, or how Y/N would twist herself inwards and hide in his left side after they made love. It remembered everything that was gone, and adjusted without judgment to their new positions. Dean hugged his pillow and turned towards the right, almost teetering on the edge. Y/N lay flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling until her eyes burned and she succumbed to the depths of sleep. No foot passed the invisible barrier between them, no hand roamed to caress a sore back, no body shifted closer seeking warmth. 

The line had been drawn and neither dared to cross it. 

Dean punched his pillow and settled into it, desperate to find a bit of comfort in the synthetic down. 

“Night.” 

His voice was soft to her ear but the tone was like knives on slate. 

Her stomach tightened. 

“You don’t even want to talk about it?” she asked, already sure of the answer. 

Dean sighed. “Not really.” He shifted, bending his left knee and turning farther away. “Not if you’re just gonna yell at me.”

Tears burned in her chest. She could feel them coming but she fought to keep them down. “Oh, right.” She sucked her teeth hard. “Because that’s all I do. I yell and you do nothing.” 

“Here we go.” Dean groaned and tossed back the blanket, sitting up. He leaned against the headboard and scrubbed a hand down his face. “So?” He turned to look at her and Y/N pursed her lips, finally looking at his face. 

He looked so done, so tired. 

‘Do I look like that?’ She pulled in a deep breath, struggling to keep the anger and stave off the tears. “So what?” 

Dimples popped above his lip. He closed his eyes. “So talk.” He threw his hands up in surrender. “You wanna talk, so talk.” 

How strange that months ago, the same words would be used to comfort her, to coax out whatever was hurting her and help find a solution. How did love curdle so easily? 

She dug her nails into her palm. “No.”

“No?” Dean rolled his eyes. “Now you don’t want to talk?”

Y/N shook her head. 

“Fine.” 

Giving up, he sank back down and pulled the blanket up over his shoulder. 

“Goodnight.” 

It was so final, so firm, that Y/N started to shake. 

“You such an asshole, Dean,” she spat. “You don’t even care what you’re doing to me, do you?”

It wasn’t fair, she knew. He wasn’t doing anything to her that she wasn’t doing to him, but still, she couldn’t let it go. Couldn’t stop fighting. When the fighting stopped, they were really done. 

Without a word, Dean rolled out of bed and reached for his robe. He shrugged it on and huffed loudly as he tied the sash around his waist. 

Y/N watched with teary eyes as he turned away and headed to the door. 

“Where are you going?” 

His jaw twitched and green eyes narrowed on her face. “I don’t want to sleep next to someone who hates me.” 

The words landed on her chest like an anvil and her breath fell away as he slammed the door. 

“Dean…”

Something was broken. Inside him, maybe, but between them most definitely. 

Dean traveled the hall, his bare feet sticking slightly to the tiled floor. For a moment, he thought to go back for his slippers, but he knew that was more trouble than it was worth. She’d be curled up on the bed crying, he’d be resentful of her tears, they’d yell at each other and neither would get any sleep. 

Cas’ bedroom door was open so he snuck inside and flipped on the light. In the back of the desk was a pint of whiskey that he’d stashed a million reasons ago, and he hoped there was something left. 

His prayers were answered and Dean pressed his lips to the cold glass bottle, closing his eyes as he took a long drink. 

Maybe he should just man up and end it already. Why was he hanging on to something that was too broken to mend? 

I still need her, he thought. But why? What was the magic power she had over him? Sure they had fun together. She was a hell of a hunter. She was clever. She was quick-witted and sassy. She was beautiful. But the constant arguments and bloody knuckles were wearing away at his soul. He was exhausted. 

Dean sat on the foot of the bed and took another drink. The bottle was only half full and he knew it wouldn’t be enough to push the pain away. Wouldn’t stop him from trying though. 

Her footsteps had been silent but the door creaked loudly. She stood in the doorway with wet cheeks and hurt in her eyes. 

Dean looked up and felt that familiar tug in his chest. He reached out a hand and she came to him, slowly crossing the threshold and meeting his touch. 

When her hand slid into his, he knew why he wouldn’t leave. He needed her. Needed a warm touch after a long day, needed some comfort after forty years of scars and trauma. 

He turned his wrist and bent to kiss her hand. He lingered there: chapped lips on warm, soft skin. She didn’t pull away, didn’t make a sound. 

He couldn’t break away, couldn’t let her go. Not yet. Not ever. 

Y/N took in a shaky breath and lay her right hand on his head. Lightly, she ran her fingertips over his scalp and Dean sighed, melting into her touch. 

When he tugged her closer, she didn’t protest. When he laid back and brought her with him, she went willingly. 

They kissed like it was the last time: long and slow, drawing out every movement, every breath. Her back arched under his groping palm; he hissed against her ear as she tugged down his shorts. 

Y/N spread her legs for him and Dean dove down, kissing the length of her body, hitting every spot he knew she loved, every inch that he had memorized over their time together. 

He brought her up fast with his mouth and broke the dam with the crook of two thick fingers. 

She clawed at his back, held on tight to his strong arms. Rolling her hips against him, she begged with sad eyes and desperate moans. 

Lightning passed between them, igniting every pleasure receptor, sparking something akin to love deep inside, but it faded too quickly. 

They lay naked and panting on Castiel’s abandoned creaky bed, each one afraid to speak and shatter the moment. 

At least there’s one thing that’s still good.

Three months earlier, Y/N had mistaken a stranger’s intense flirting for everyday kindness, and watching the scene unfold had driven Dean into such a jealous rage that they screwed in the back of the Impala for over an hour while he tapped into kinks she’d only ever peeked at. He called her a slut and she scratched lines down his back. He slapped her cunt and she cried out in ecstasy. He bruised her wrists, and she damned near drew his blood. They reclaimed each other in the dark misty night behind that club in Denville.

Now, he sat on the opposite end of the bar, forehead held up by one hand as the other toyed with the rim of his whiskey glass. 

Y/N’s voice carried over the crappy music to his ear but he didn’t bother turning her way. She was saddled up next to a tall blond man with giant arms and a shirt so tight she could trace every cut in his chest and abs with her eyes. He was spending a fortune on top-shelf vodka that she drank down like water, edging ever closer as the minutes ticked by. Keeping one eye on Dean, Y/N laughed wildly at the man’s unfunny jokes, smiled coyly, and bit her lip to entice him. He was smitten but she couldn’t care less. She just wanted Dean to give a shit. To show a hint of that animal who’d torn her panties to shreds and sucked her nipples so hard that they hurt for the next two days. She wanted him to rush over and push the hipster douchebag away, rightly claim his property, and dare anyone around to say anything about it as he escorted Y/N to her waiting punishment. 

She wanted him to notice. 

She wanted him to want her. 

He kept his attention on the amber solace of his drink and ignored her fake laughter. 

As her suitor leaned to whisper a proposal in her ear, Dean tapped his fingers on the bar, ordering another drink. 

Her stomach turned at the man’s disgusting premise, but her heart ached for the man she used to know.  

Dean knew what game she was playing, but it didn’t cut him any less. He drowned his feelings in the cheap stuff, ordering another while she ran her hands down the stranger’s chest. He clenched his jaw so tightly that his back molars hurt when he released the tension. He was boiling inside but refused to give in. 

The bartender was a curvy young woman with creamy dark skin and tight curly hair that bounced with every step she took. Every time Dean called her over, she would smile enticingly and lean over on her elbows to give him a good shot of her cleavage. Rich brown eyes slid over his face with carnal interest and by the fifth whisky, Dean was drunk enough to give her the time of day. 

Y/N peered over her date’s shoulder and saw Dean reach for the bartender’s hand, lightly resting his fingers on her delicate wrist. Her stomach burned and when he looked over at her, she dramatically slid her hand down the stranger’s arm and tugged him away from the bar. 

Dean watched her leave, blond man in tow, her hips swaying in a display that made every dick in the place twitch. He cleared his throat, pushing away the hurt, and set his eyes back on the bartender’s crimson-painted lips. 

He was still awake and drinking when she tugged her key from the motel room door and slammed it shut behind her. 

Silhouetted in yellow lamplight, he looked like a villain waiting to attack. 

Just as he’d done in the bar, she ignored him and dropped her stuff on the table, nearly knocking over the bottle of bourbon. 

She shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it onto the floor by his feet. She knew how much he hated it when she left her things all over the room. It was unsanitary and annoying. Digging in deeper, she kicked off her shoes one at a time, shooting them in opposite directions. 

He drew in a heavy breath. 

“Have fun?” 

Y/N looked at him and wiped a finger at the corner of her mouth. “Sure did.” 

The gesture made his stomach churn and he nodded slowly. “Good for you.” He took a drink, emptied the cheap plastic cup, and reached for the bottle. “Good… for… you.”

Y/N swallowed an angry growl and turned away. 

Alcohol burned away his sense and Dean went on. “So glad you’re out there whoring yourself out to anyone who buys you a drink.” 

She spun on her heel. “Excuse me?”

His eyes cut into her. “You heard me.” He downed a shot and reached for another. 

“You’re drunk.” 

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “That don’t change the fact that you just swallowed some other dude’s load.”

“Fuck you.” Her heart was racing, her muscles twitching for a bout.  

He laughed bitterly. “No thanks. I don’t need your sloppy seconds.” 

Y/N seethed. Her eyes narrowed. She took a step closer. “And what about you? I saw you drooling over that young thing behind the bar. Was she all you dreamed of? Did she squirm under you, Old Man? Did she scream your name?” 

Dean slammed the cup down. The thin plastic buckled beneath his fist and tore. Whiskey puddled on the table but he didn’t care. “I didn’t touch her,” he said, voice hard and righteous. 

“Sure you didn’t,” she laughed. “Probably wouldn’t let your drunk ass near her.” 

She turned and he sprung to his feet, knocking back the chair as he went. The wood crashed to the floor, thumping on the worn green carpet. He grabbed her arm as she spun away and Y/N gasped loudly when his fingers dug into her flesh. 

“Get off me!” 

He grimaced but held tighter. “The fuck is wrong with you? You go off and fuck some guy and then come back here like we’re all good and you can just crawl into bed with me? Who the fuck do you think you are!”

The anger in his voice shot through her and Y/N shuddered. Biting back tears, she wrenched her arm away and stared up at him defiantly. 

“You think you know everything, don’t you, Dean?” Somehow, she kept her voice calm and even. “You think you’re some fucking superhero and everything has to go a certain way for you. You’re the chosen one and the world has to bend to your whim. But I’ll tell you what you really are. You’re an oblivious, selfish asshole and you crush everything and everyone around you to dust. And one day, you’re gonna be left alone on this planet surrounded by nothing but the carnage you left behind and your own goddamned tears.” 

Dean balked. His spine straightened and his eyes went wide. He took a step backward.

She’d gone too far, she knew, but it felt good to hurt him just a little bit more than he hurt her. 

He blinked quickly to clear his vision and shove the waterworks back inside. He dropped his fists and ran his fingers across the hem of his flannel just to have something to do, some way to ground himself. 

Shit.

Y/N softened, hating herself. “Dean, I’m-” 

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “No. Don’t.” 

A tear escaped and slid down his left cheek. 

Fuck. 

Y/N watched it fall, wondering how he could leave it there, how the feeling of sadness trickling down his face didn’t annoy him into taking care of himself. 

“I didn’t mean that-” 

He chewed his bottom lip and she reached out, swiping the wetness away with her thumb before he could pull back. 

“I don’t know why I said that, I just-” 

He didn’t answer and it burned her more than if he’d yelled back. She pulled her hand back and held his tear in her fist. 

Once upon a time she would have hugged him close, cradled his head, and let him cry into her shoulder. She would have soothed his pain, been a tourniquet for his soul, but now she was the blade. 

Silence hung between them and Dean gathered himself up. 

“I didn’t fuck her,” he whispered, cementing his earlier confession. 

Y/N sighed and her shoulders fell. “Neither did I.” 

Dean’s gaze fell to the ugly carpet and he took her hand in his. “I need some sleep.” 

She squeezed his hand and nodded. “Yeah,” she sighed. “Me too.” 

There are many reasons a simple case can turn sour and become a clusterfuck of epic proportions. A lack of credible witnesses or an uncooperative police force could slow things down. The lore might be wrong, the map may have changed, and the moon might shift phases in the midst of the investigation. There were a million things that could go wrong and the worst of them seemed to align in Pittsburgh. 

The city was too big to sneak around in. The streets were packed with tourists converging downtown and stammering through the summer heat. Police Chief Warren had been overly dismissive of any reports of an odd nature and therefore threw out over a dozen eye-witness accounts, making things incredibly annoying and difficult when occult dealings started becoming more obvious. 

The pair of recently arrived feuding faux F.B.I. agents was icing on the shitty cake. Partners Dunne and Jones worked the case, rushing through the gorgeous city and beyond, hunting a murderous crew that was dropping bodies up and down the Allegheny River. 

Beyond case details, they barely spoke. If it didn’t need to be said, it wasn’t. If it had anything to do with their personal life, it was ignored. 

Dean slept on the sofa. 

Y/N stayed up most of the night staring at him. 

She couldn’t tell through the dark that he was staring back. 

They used to be a great team. She was fearless and he was protective. He didn’t know when to shut up, and she cleaned up his verbal spillage. They communicated with winks and nods; blinks spoke volumes. They were always in sync, always had each other’s back, and when things went to hell, they were there to patch each other up without judgment or placations. 

Now the rhythm was gone. He went left and she took three steps back. She forged on, he was already back at the car. 

It wasn’t easy, but the job needed to be done. 

By two in the morning, they had tracked a trio of shape-shifting maniacs to a rundown townhouse on the edge of the city. Without mapping out a plan, Dean kicked down the door and Y/N rushed inside. 

Bullets flew. 

Fists collided; bones cracked. 

Blood flowed from shallow gashes as the last shifter standing morphed into a tiger and slashed at Y/N’s shoulder. She screamed, tumbling down and rolling onto her back on the dusty floor. Dean heard her yell and raced to the scene, instantly taking aim. 

From the floor, Y/N cocked her knees and steadied herself. She dug her heels into the floor and closed one eye, ready to fire. 

As her finger hovered over the trigger, a shot rang out and the tiger fell. Blood sprayed across her face and she scrambled back as the animal collapsed at her feet. 

“Damnit, Dean! That was my shot!” 

Stashing his pistol, Dean shook his head. “Yeah, whatever. You’re welcome.” He leaned over and extended a helping hand, but Y/N shoved it away, refusing. 

“I got it.” 

“Let me help you,” he snapped. 

Despite the pain in her shoulder, Y/N pushed herself up and spat a mouthful of blood at his feet. “I said, I got it.” 

Annoyed, he threw his hands up and turned away. He jabbed at the corpse with a boot and sighed. “What the fuck are we supposed to do with this?” 

Y/N looked down at the monster and shrugged. “I don’t know. Pretty sure the zoo’s closed at this hour.” 

There was no way they could burn the bodies in town, so they piled them into the trunk and took off into the open pastures of Pennsylvania. 

Silence hung thicker than the stench of death and Y/N sat with her head nearly out of the window. Anytime she went to speak, Dean turned up the radio. One notch on the dial for every word she didn’t say. 

The blaze burned high and the tension between them matched its intensity. 

Dean refused to look at her. 

Y/N pretended it didn’t break her heart. 

When the embers cooled to ash and the sun began to rise, Y/N kicked some dirt onto what was left and watched the last wisps of smoke dissipate. 

“Shall we?” 

Dean nodded without a word and fished the car keys from his pocket. The metal glinted in the virgin light and Y/N stared into the shine, praying that he’d say something, anything. 

God wasn’t listening. 

Dean drove the back highways like they were running from a nuclear attack. They headed west, away from the sunshine and into the boundless landscape of muted colors that transversed the country. 

Y/N was balled up against the door, as far away as she could possibly get. She closed her eyes to the whipping wind and longed for an answer. 

Dean watched her sighing into the breeze. There was a time when he was captivated by the small things like this. The way the wind lifted her hair and a gust stole her breath. The way her eyelashes graced the tops her her cheeks; the hint of a smile upon her lips. Now all he saw was another fight, a dense script of harsh words that neither could take back. 

He took the next exit. 

She sat up when the scenery changed and the long stretch of highway became a bumpy country road. 

Without turning her head, she looked at him from the corner of her eye. She used to love to watch him drive. Loved how his thick fingers curled around the wheel, calloused hands on worn-out leather. Loved how his bowed legs fell to either side and he kept his left hand draped on his thigh. So comfortable behind the wheel, it was like the Impala was made for him. As if the metal was forged with him in mind. She used to love to watch him drive, to cuddle up at his side, drop her head to his shoulder, and relax as the miles flew by. 

It was different now. 

It was strained. 

The magic was gone. 

“What happened to us, Dean?” she asked, voice crackling over the drone from the speakers.    

Hendrix played on and Dean shrugged. “Uh, we got our asses handed to us by a couple of shifters.” 

She snapped the radio off and turned in her seat, denim sliding over leather as she tried to face him. “That’s not what I mean.” 

“I know what you mean.” He leaned his elbow on the door and rubbed his forehead. 

“So,” she took a steadying breath, already feeling the tears brew again. “So what happened?” 

He bit his bottom lip and shook his head, too afraid to look at her lest he break down. This was it. 

“I don't know.”

Y/N looked away and let her eyes burn as the tears gathered. If she blinked, they’d fall. If she took a breath, she’d break. She stared at the road, at the faded white line and blue attraction signs, wishing she could go back in time, do it all over again, do it better.

Dean cleared his throat and pushed on. They were about a day from home and he longed for the safety of the bunker. He wanted to see Sam and have a beer. He wanted to call Jody and ask her how to fix this mess. He wanted to crash on his own goddamned pillow and pull on his giant headphones and listen to some fucking records before he lost what was left of his mind. 

Y/N was a million miles away and he had no idea how to reach her, how to fix what was broken between them. He still didn’t know which misstep had cracked the ice, but it was quickly shattering beneath his feet. 

He snuck a look across the bench seat, wondering if she knew the answer. 

She met his eye and something snapped inside her. 

“Pull over,” she whispered.  

His heart ached. “Are you OK?” 

“No.” She sighed and looked away. “Pull over.” 

She was done. All the nights lived in silence, all the chances he had to fight for them- it was too much. She was done. 

Dean pulled off onto the shoulder and hit the hazards. He twisted towards her with concern in his gaze and a plea on his tongue. 

She hesitated, hand hovering over the door handle, but when she gave him the chance, when she looked him in the eye, begging him to speak, there was only silence.

The door creaked open and her shoes hit the dirt. She grabbed her backpack from the backseat and slammed both doors shut. 

Confused and broken, Dean watched her set off. He knew he needed to follow her, but his body fought him. His legs were like lead, his arms were numb. 

She wouldn’t look back. She knew he wasn’t following her. The bag was heavy but she shifted it on her shoulders and took a deep breath. 

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t look back. 

He called her name and she stopped walking.

Boots hurried behind her. 

“Y/N-” 

She shook her head but he didn’t give up. 

“Where are you going? Come on-” 

She sighed heavily and hung her head. “I’m done, Dean.”  

“Done?” 

A laugh bubbled up and she turned. “Don’t act surprised, Winchester.” 

He licked his lips and shifted on his feet. “Look, I know things suck right now but-” 

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s not just now. We- we haven’t been right in a long time. You know we haven’t.” 

His stomach burned. “So that means you just walk away? You give up on us?” 

Anger swirled. “This is not me just walking away. This is me climbing over the hundred million little reasons we don’t work and leaving. It’s for the best.”

“It’s not. No part of this is for the best.” 

It almost broke her heart all over again. Almost. 

“Come on, Dean. You’re sick of me. I’m nothing but a bitch to you lately, and you’re… half the time you’re mentally checked out. We can’t stand each other.” 

He clenched his fists, his jaw, his resolve. “That’s not true!” 

“It is. You know it is.” 

“You can’t-” He swallowed hard. “You can’t leave.” 

“I have to. It’s the right thing to do. There’s nothing else here and it’s all just a distraction. One of us is gonna get killed. Or worse.” 

Heels spun in the dirt but Dean grabbed her arm. She looked down at it in shock and he retreated instantly. 

“Please, Y/N. You can’t end this.” 

If she’d ever seen him so hurt, so utterly heartbroken, she couldn’t remember. There was a darkness in his eyes that tugged at her soul. 

“One of us has to.” 

He closed his eyes and a tear trekked down his face. 

Fuck.

“Please…” 

She shivered. Her body was revolting against her plans, but her mind was set. 

“I’m leaving, Dean. Unless you’ve got a good fucking reason for me to stay.” 

His lip trembled. He searched for something to give her but there was nothing left. 

“Just one…”

His eyes closed again and Y/N’s shoulders shook. She couldn’t stop herself from crying, but she could keep herself from caving. 

“See- if you loved me at all, you could give me a reason. That would be enough.” She smiled sadly. “But you can’t say it. Because you don’t.” 

He held her gaze, sadder than she’d ever seen him. 

His voice cracked. “I do love you, but-”

Another laugh. Another pebble on the mountain. “You see? There shouldn't be a but. Love is love, Dean. Either you love me or you don’t.”

“It's not like that for me,” he said, barely breathing. “For us. This life, it-”

She cut him off with a hard shake of her head. “Do not blame the life.” She took a step closer and pressed her toes against his. “It's you and me right now. Either you love me or you don't.”

Kiss her. Grab her. Make her stay. You need her. 

Dean couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. 

The longer he stayed silent, the more sure she was. 

Midday peaked above their heads and their tears dampened the gravel below. 

Y/N placed her hand against his left cheek and pushed up on her toes to kiss the right. He closed his eyes and wrapped his hand loosely around her wrist. 

“Please…” 

She was all out of reasons. 

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)@alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lunaroserites @lyarr24 @nancymcl @nix-rose @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @rosecentury @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05   

[leigh70]

Remember when I said ALL of your writing lately has me DEEP in the feels? This one did not disappoint!!!! Pretty sure I held my breath through the majority of this one and had tears streaming halfway through. This shattered me😭 but is oh so good!!!

[enigmalynne]

War Is Over (and I wanna go home)

Title – War Is Over (And I Wanna Go Home) Pairings – Jensen Ackles & Y/N Ackles Word Count – 5,098 Warnings – injuries, sulking, sad!Jensen then Happy!Jensen JAcklesverse Bingo Square: Explosion

Y/N Ackles had been deployed to Iraq for almost one year and was due to come home soon. Jensen was counting down till he could finally hold his wife in his arms again. Her flight information said she was arriving on Saturday, flying to Vancouver after her debrief. He couldn’t wait to see his Marine Raider. 

However, she had other plans. With help from Robert Singer, the Marine had a surprise “guest role” on the show that Sam and Dean didn’t know about but were about to…

“It’s no charge, ma’am. Thank you for your service,” the young man said with a smile as she pulled her wallet out of the side pocket of her tactical pants. Y/N Ackles shook her head at the barista behind the Starbucks counter.

“No, please. Let me pay for my coffee. It’s the least I can do since you have to be here this early in the morning,” she practically begged. The others dressed in slouchy beanies, flannels, and green aprons – reminding her so much of Jared it was startling – simply shook their heads and went about making her Fall favorite drink: a pumpkin-spiced latte. 

“It’s the least we could do for you,” one of the baristas said. “My Dad and older brother were in the Marines.” Y/N smiled at that and nodded. Before she could say anything, someone a few people behind her shouted. 

“Come on! What’s taking so long? Some of us have places to be!”

The baristas looked chastised and started to move a little faster with their work, but Y/N straightened up, slipped on the mask she saved for the men and women in her ranks, turned around with narrowed eyes, and looked at the man who spoke out of line. When she noticed it was one of the Marines also on their way home, her temper flared. When she saw the stripes on his arm, Master Sergeant to her Captain, she saw red.

“I know you did not just show public disrespect, Master Sergeant, in full Marine uniform,” Y/N growled loudly at the boy from where she stood at the front of the line. When the boy realized who was in front of the line, he paled dramatically, dropped his things, and stood at attention as Y/N stalked to where he stood. The others in line started to watch them with interest, a few pulling out their phones to record the interaction. 

“No, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am, I didn’t realize it was you in front of the line,” he stuttered. This caused Y/N to look at him with a raised brow when she finally stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. 

“You’re saying if it was anyone else, it would have been okay to talk out of line like a petulant child throwing a temper tantrum then?” she snapped, causing him to blink rapidly, realizing his mistake. Whispers were starting around her, causing her eyes to narrow. She didn’t like making a scene, but she wasn’t about to let this go unpunished.

“No! No, of course not! I was being disrespectful and that is completely uncalled for, ma’am. It will never happen again,” he said sharply. 

“You’re damn right it won’t. You owe everyone in this line and behind the counter of Starbucks an apology for your misbehavior, and you will pay for your breakfast when you get to the front of the line which will be however long it takes, do I make myself clear Master Sergeant?” Y/N ordered in the sternest voice she could muster. 

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” the kid answered with a wobbly voice. Y/N stepped into the kid’s personal space.  

“If I so much as hear another peep out of you complaining whether it be the water being too tepid or the turbulence on the plane being too rough between now and the time we land in Washington, I will make sure you are back in Iraq so fast your head will spin, is that understood?” Y/N muttered lowly, making sure only the young man in front of her could hear her. The man’s eyes widened slightly, then he nodded jerkily. 

“Yes, ma’am. Understood.” 

“Mind your manners, Jackson,” she said, turning back to the front of the line where she set her things. She picked up her Marine-issued green bag and her old backpack and moved to pick up her latte. The barista who had spoken to her before was waiting for her with an entertained smile on her face. 

“I’m so sorry about that, some of these kids need more parenting than most,” she grouched, accepting her coffee with a smile. She took a sip and sighed in delight; eyes closed to savor the taste. “It’s been a year since I’ve had decent coffee, let alone a specialty one. This makes everything worth it.” 

“Welcome home, Marine,” the barista said, fondness in her voice. Y/N opened her eyes and smiled widely. 

“Thank you.” 

______________________________________________________________

“Hey!” Jared greeted Jensen as he walked into the makeup trailer. Jensen lifted his hand in greeting, taking a deep sip of his coffee with the other. Jared took a moment to study his friend as he waited for Ginger to get the prosthetics she needed to attach to his face for the scene they were shooting that morning. 

“Dude, you look like shit. What’s going on?” Jared said quietly, his worry showing through. Jensen sighed heavily as he fell into the makeup chair in front of Melody. 

“I was up late watching the reports on the latest explosion in Iraq. You know, the one where the Humvees were blown up?” Jensen said. Jared nodded his head solemnly. “I haven’t heard from Y/N in a while, and I was thinking… what if she was in that explosion? What if she’s hurt and I don’t know it? Am I about to get a visit? If so, are they gonna come here and tell me that I lost my wife in front of everyone?” 

“Jen,” Jared said, his voice showing his hurt for his friend. “You can’t keep thinking like that man. You said it yourself, she’s gonna be home soon. Isn’t she landing next Saturday?” He tilted his head back to let the makeup artist fiddle with the special effects wound above his eyebrow. He heard Jensen sigh heavily. 

“Yeah. She’s already been gone three hundred sixty-three. In her last email, she said she had to go debrief before she could come up here. I hate that I couldn’t be there when she got back like I usually am,” Jensen said, sitting with his head resting in his hand, sadness clear on his face.

“Wasn’t she the one who told you to stay here and finish up?” Jared asked. 

“Yeah, but…” Jensen started but was interrupted. 

“And wasn’t she the one who told you that she was going to finish her debrief and come straight up here to see you as soon as she was done?” 

“Yes, but…” 

“She understands that we are in a tough spot and need all hands on deck for this episode, then. She knew you were shooting the last three episodes back to back-to-back when she was supposed to be coming home,” Jared tried to placate his friend. 

“Doesn’t make me feel any less of an asshole, Jared” Jensen bit out. “I’ve always been there every time she returned from deployment since we first started dating back in the early days. I’ve never missed one.” Jared glanced over at his best friend. Jensen glanced at Melody who was wearing a sympathetic smile as she turned him to sit correctly in the chair. She started to add the makeup to his face carefully as if he were made of glass. 

“You can make it one more week. We’ll be so busy enough on this episode, you won’t even realize the time has passed,” Jared said. “Then, she’ll be back and it’ll be Bonnie and Clyde all over again.” 

“Yeah.”

______________________________________________________________

Two flights, 28 hours, a very long discussion with her chain of command, filling out a very large stack of paperwork, and a nap in an uncomfortable chair later, Y/N landed in Vancouver. She couldn’t help the giddiness that was filling her that had nothing to do with lack of sleep, painkillers, or a caffeine overdose. After almost a year in a war zone, she was finally coming home to see her husband, and this time, for good. 

It wasn’t easy trying to plan the surprise return to Jensen.

Between him being an actor, surrounded by security and other famous faces all the time, and the demands the Marines had of her, she was trying her darndest to make it happen. Thankfully, she had an in with a producer on Supernatural. 

She only met Robert Singer a handful of times, but once he realized who was on the phone trying to get in touch with him, he took her call without a bit of hesitation and talked to her as if she were an old friend. She explained how she was finally coming home from her final deployment, leaving military life behind, and how she wanted to surprise Jensen somehow with her homecoming since he was always there for her.

Not only was Robert excited for this next step in his friend and actor’s life, but he was eager to assist with the surprise and promised to do everything he could to make sure only the most necessary of people knew about what was happening. 

Of course, that was before she was caught by an improvised explosive device while out on patrol a week before the end of her deployment. The explosion flipped the Humvee she was driving twice before it finally landed on its roof. Three people died in the crash. She might have survived, but she didn’t walk away without injuries she was still recovering from, which included one surgery to fix her abdomen when part of the door embedded itself into her stomach when she flew home. 

She was very close to just giving up on the surprise. She was hurting both physically and emotionally, she was feeling lonely, and she just wanted to be in the arms of her husband feeling the comfort only he could give her. 

She knew, however, that many people were working on putting together an amazing surprise for her and Jensen, and yes - they would not bat an eye at her asking to cancel it given the circumstances, but she didn’t want to do that to them. 

Jensen deserved the surprise. He had put up with so much with her being gone on deployment. 

Getting to Vancouver was part one of the plan. When her plane landed, she felt a rush of contentment go through her aching body, knowing she was one step closer to her husband. 

Part two of the plan was getting her on set. Y/N made her way out to the pickup area with her pack flung over one shoulder and her military-issue duffle in the other hand. Surprise colored her expression when she saw it was Clif waiting for her next to a rather large, black SUV. When he spotted her, his wide smile dropped some of its original joy and was replaced with concern. Y/N Ackles looked… beaten up, exhausted, and hurt as she limped slightly, moving slowly over to him.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” Clif said, immediately taking her pack and duffle from her. Y/N sighed in relief, her shoulder sagging as the weight was lifted off her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she took a deep breath of Vancouver air and when she opened them, she smiled sadly at the big security guard.

“I’d say you should see the other guy, but the other guy was the car and it got destroyed,” she said quietly. There were signs of the accident visible now that she was up close to him. The black and purple bruises on her face left behind reminders of the explosion, as did the cuts that scattered across her face, and the stitches above her eyebrow. It had only been a few weeks since the surgery to her stomach and her knee was sore from being in one place for so long. 

She also had dropped weight being overseas, which would be a shock to those seeing her again in the States. She reached up to give Clif a hug, which he returned gently. 

“I can’t believe you were actually in that explosion,” he said quietly. Y/N let out a heavy breath, one filled with emotion and stories she didn’t want to talk about. “I’m so glad you’re okay. C’mon. I have an hour to sneak you onto the set before people start asking questions.”

______________________________________________________________

Twenty-five minutes and one short hide under a blanket later, she was inside the set and being escorted in through the back door of the offices. She was met by Sarah, executive assistant to Robert, the two shared conspirator giggles despite the heaviness that came with how she felt. Y/N felt like she was back in Iraq with how she was hiding from any voices they heard, but this time it was excitement that filled her instead of dread and concern. Once the two women got to Robert’s office, they closed the door a little louder than necessary and pressed their backs against the wood. They remained silent for a long moment, staring at each other, before falling into hushed laughter. Robert looked up from his desk in amusement. 

“I take it the ride over was a success?” he asked. Y/N nodded her head. 

“Yessir,” Y/N answered, pushing herself away from the door. “I don’t think anyone had a clue I was in the vehicle. It did help that Clif stopped at a taco place and was eating when he pulled in.” She stepped forward slowly, holding her hand out. Robert noticed her limp and stood, rushing to meet her halfway. The two shook hands before he helped the Marine to a chair to sit. Y/N took the seat gratefully. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked her as he eyed her slender frame. Of course, Robert had been filled in on the accident in case it prevented her from being able to make it home against her wishes. But at least it was kept from Jensen, so… small favors. 

“I’ll survive. Nothing six months of sleep and a month of hot showers with decent water pressure won’t fix. I’m going to try and meet with some doctors in a few weeks to get a physical and see what kind of damage we are looking at. I’ll have them send the documents to the V.A. and go from there, but for now, I just want to see Jen and go home for a while. I’ll settle for a long weekend if you’ll let me have him,” she explained, hope coloring her tone. Robert nodded. 

“I’ve already made plans to have everyone take a break once we tell them you’re here. Everyone has been working so hard lately to get the last few episodes done, working back-to-back with no break… The least I can do is offer a long, four-day weekend to the team and allow you two a chance to spend some time together,” he said with a gentle smile. He purposefully didn’t acknowledge any of the medical talks, knowing how private both Y/N and Jensen were about their personal lives. 

“God, that sounds…” Suddenly, someone knocked on the door before twisting the doorknob. Panic rose in Y/N’s eyes as she looked around the room for a place to hide. 

“Don’t come in here!” Robert shouted, halting the person entering. 

“Why not?” he heard a confused voice say. 

“Because… I’m… busy, I am… having… I’m having an affair!” he shouted. Both Sarah and Y/N looked at him scandalized. 

“Seriously? That’s what you come up with?” Sarah asked, causing Robert to look at her pleadingly.

“You’re what? No, you’re not; give me the real reason. Are you naked? What’s going on?” the voice said, opening the door and walking in. 

“He said don’t come in!” Y/N barked out in her Marine voice, causing whoever was on the other side of the door to slam it shut. Y/N then turned her narrowed eyes to the other two people in the room. 

“I don’t know what made you think this was going to be kept a secret for long,” he said with a snicker. With an exasperated sigh, Y/N sat back carefully in the chair she was in. 

“Oh, fine. You can come in,” she grumbled loudly. Stacey walked into the office with wide, frightened eyes and stared at the back of Y/N’s head uncomprehendingly. Sarah looked over at Stacey with a manic grin on her face, excitement radiating off her. 

“Who are you meeting with?” Stacey asked, closing the door behind her. “I knew you weren’t having an affair, you idiot.” She walked over to the desk and dropped the fabric samples she was carrying in front of him before looking at the person sitting in the chair and freezing. Once she realized it was Y/N, a wide grin spread across her face, and she screamed excitedly.

“No!” Y/N barked, pointing at Stacey with narrowed, furious eyes. Stacey covered her mouth with her hand, then pulled it away and started to bounce on her toes while waving her hands around. “No one knows I’m here yet, and I’ll be damned if you ruin this for me.” 

“Oh my God, you’re home!! How long have you been here? We’ve got to go tell Jensen, he’s been an absolute nightmare all week,” Stacey started to ramble. Y/N’s face dropped when she heard that, moving her eyes back to Robert. 

“Has he been really upset?” Y/N asked. Robert looked at her sympathetically. 

“He’s missed you. We all have. It’s been a long year, and you being MARSOC hasn’t helped. It was easier when you two were able to Facetime occasionally, but when you went Special Ops and couldn’t speak to him for months at a time, and he didn’t know if you were alive or dead…” Robert said, trailing off. Y/N nodded her head in understanding, her eyes looking distant. 

“He’d see a story on the news and wonder if you were okay,” Sarah said quietly. “He always seemed to be waiting for a visit from someone, and he was terrified that it was going to happen here on set. We’d catch him watching the gates from time to time.” 

“So, he probably knows about the accident but has no idea I was in it,” Y/N deduced, causing Robert to frown.

“I think he’s suspicious. I think he knows you might have been in the accident,” Robert explained. “He hasn’t been himself since he saw the news about the explosion but we probably got word of it days after it actually happened. By then, you had already…” he had trailed off, glancing at the two women in the room who didn’t know about the consequences of the explosion.  

Y/N’s heart broke. So much happened in Iraq this tour, so much she hadn’t had the chance to tell anyone about. She wrapped an arm around herself protectively, her hand rubbing up and down the scars that were hidden behind the green t-shirt… near the wound that was still healing after the latest explosion she had been in. The movement didn’t go unnoticed, causing Robert and Sarah to share a glance. Slowly, the room started to disappear around her.

Stacey was talking a mile a minute, but Y/N wasn’t paying any attention to what was being said. Instead, she was getting lost in the memories of the explosion… the smell of the fire, the unseeing eyes that were frozen in terror, the tears she cried as she tried to get out of the vehicle…

“Y/N?” she heard her name and blinked a few times, looking over to Stacey. She was looking at the Marine with concern in her eyes. Y/N looked at Sarah and Robert, then back to Stacey. 

“Did I zone out? I’m sorry. It’s been a long trip home. I’m exhausted and I’ve got a lot on my mind,” she said, rubbing her eyes. Stacey shared a look with Sarah before plastering a smile on her face. 

“Well, I was saying we need to surprise Jensen now that you are here!”

“We’re already ahead of you on that one. Here’s our plan,” Robert said, filling them in. 

______________________________________________________________

“I hate the idea of bringing them pizza. Can’t I just walk up to Jen in a bar when he’s Dean and hit on him? They’re doing that scene today too, right?” Y/N asked Stacey in the wardrobe area, who shrugged. 

“Yeah, I think so. Lemme text Robert and see what he says,” she replied, grabbing her phone. Y/N nodded, leaning against the wall in thought. 

“Stace – don’t kill me but I tore a seam on this shirt, and they are making me come…” 

When the two women heard Jared’s voice enter the small room, their eyes went wide in fear but with nowhere to hide except racks of clothes in the moments it would take for him to round the corner, there was nothing they could do but wait. As soon as Jared laid eyes on his best friend’s wife, he froze in shock. Y/N looked over at Jared with a small wave. 

“Y/N?”

“Hey, Jay…” Jared’s eyes started to water instantly. 

“Holy shit, Y/N…” Jared quickly came over to her and wrapped her up in one of his notorious bear hugs, squeezing the life out of her before she could stop him. Y/N cried out in pain, patting his arms quickly, causing Jared to let go quickly. She leaned her head on his chest, whimpering and breathing heavily. Her eyes scrunched up as she breathed through the pain. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. What’s wrong? What did I do?” Jared panicked, unsure of where to put his hands. Stacey stared at the two in a panic, wanting to help but unsure how. 

“Just… just give me a second…” 

Jared rubbed his hands up and down her arms, hoping to calm her, all while murmuring his apologies. It took a few minutes but soon she was able to pull away and look up at Jared with a smile. 

“Hi, Jay…” Y/N said, her voice strained. Jared took the time to look at Y/N and realized not only had she lost weight, but there was some significant bruising on her face… not to mention stitches where an incision had been sewn shut. That’s when it dawned on him that she must be seriously injured behind the brown shirt and military fatigue pants she was still wearing. 

“You were in the explosion, weren’t you?” he asked gently, remorse coloring his tone. “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I should have waited and not rushed up. Did I hurt you badly? I’m so sorry. What do you need?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N explained with a nod. “I promise. I just need some rest, a good meal, and my man.” Jared nodded. If she wasn’t going to talk about it, he wasn’t going to push. 

“Um, Y/N… You’re bleeding…” Stacey said meekly, pointing to a spot on her side. Y/N looked at her, then at where she was pointing. Sure enough, a small bit of blood had seeped through her brown shirt on her side high up on her ribs. A sigh escaped her as she looked away, avoiding the two pairs of eyes now staring at her in concern. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I can go get the set nurse and she can fix you…” Jared started, but Y/N shook her head. 

“No,” she said firmly. “No, I don’t want anyone looking at this. They don’t need to see any of this. Just get me some medical tape and some gauze and I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s just a couple of busted stitches. They are supposed to come out in a few days anyway.” 

“Are you sure?” Jared asked. Y/N forced a smile, looking up at him. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. But thank you. I forgot what it’s like to have people fret over me like this,” she said with a chuckle. Jared forced a crooked smile and shook his head. 

“I thought you weren’t coming in till next week sometime… Jensen has this whole thing planned to surprise you and everything.” 

“That’s the thing, I’m here to surprise him,” Y/N smiled.

“God, you’re so tan…” he muttered, not realizing he said it out loud. Y/N’s smile softened. 

“A year in the desert will do that to you. I’ve got some wicked sock lines though,” she said with a laugh. The other two laughed as well, but she could tell it was forced. “How is he? I know this has been awful, being away for a year, and he says he’s been okay… but how is he?” Jared shook his head, not responding. Y/N nodded her head in understanding. It’s been as hard for Jensen as it was for her. She almost said screw the surprise and went to go find him. 

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Yeah…” 

“He’s been doing his best to stay positive, but it’s been killing him. It’s pretty obvious to those of us he’s close to,” Jared said with a shake of the head. Stacey looked up from her phone with a small smile. 

“Robert said he’s cool with the change if you want to do the bar scene instead,” she replied. Y/N smiled at her, nodding. 

“You’re going to be in the episode?” Jared questioned, his voice showing his excitement. 

“I don’t know if they are going to keep it, but that’s how I’m going to surprise him with me being back,” Y/N said with a smirk. Jared hugged her again, this time more gently than before. 

“That’s perfect,” he said. Stacey clapped her hands at them.

“Okay, be sappy later, we have to go and get you beautified! It’s off to hair and make-up for you!”

______________________________________________________________

“Here’s what’s gonna happen…. he’s gonna go to the bar, order a whiskey. When it’s set in front of him, you walk over, pick it up, throw it back, and set the glass down. He’s gonna scoff and turn to look at you and… we’ll just keep rolling. You ready?” Robert said to her with a wide smile. Y/N nodded her head, butterflies and a simmering heat filling her stomach. She was more than ready. She had been watching her husband for part of the day from a distance and she wanted to get her hands on him now. 

The crew went out of their way to make her feel beautiful with their little mini-spa day. The crew did wonders with her hair and make-up, doing what they could to give her military cut some sexiness. The subtle but glamorous make-up made her newly tan skin shimmer which would be perfect in the low bar light. They asked if she wanted to change clothes, but Y/N declined. She wasn’t ready to be in civilian clothing yet and wearing something that could expose the injuries she was trying to hide made her nervous. Instead, she stuck with her t-shirt and BDU pants. Paired with the wavy hair and makeup, she almost felt glamorous. 

Spotting Jensen off to the side and talking to a PA had her heart racing. She was so ready to be in his arms again.  

“Jensen, you good on what’s about to happen?” Jensen simply nodded and waved a hand from where he stood. “Okay then. Lights…. Camera…. ACTION!”

Jensen stood from the booth he was sitting in and stomped over to the bar, waving down the bartender. He ordered the whiskey before sliding on the stool to sit. Y/N started to slowly walk up to him when he sat. Once the drink was set in front of him and he started to reach for it, she lifted it from the bar top, threw it back with ease (oh, it’s just watered-down Coke…), and set the glass down with a loud thunk in front of him. She then turned to the side to face Jensen and waited, holding her breath. 

Jensen faked an exasperated scoff, waving a hand at the glass, turned, looked at the woman to his side… and froze. His eyes slowly widened as he took in her face, moving to a standing position as his hand reached up to cup her cheek. Y/N’s eyes started to water as she smiled, watching her husband try to decide if what he saw was real. When his warm, calloused hand touched her cheek a tear broke free and ran down her face. His thumb gently brushed it away as he stood. 

“Y/N…?” he whispered; his voice so full of hope it hurt to hear it. Y/N gave a jerky nod. 

“Surprise…?” she whimpered, more tears spilling from her eyes. He looked down at her, as he was almost half a foot taller than she was, and he raised his other hand to the other side of her face.

“Oh, my God,” he breathed before crashing his mouth onto hers, kissing her with so much passion and desire. There was no tenderness in the kiss, just desperation, want, I missed you, and welcome home and don’t leave. They were so caught up in each other, that they didn’t even hear the cheers happening around them. When they finally broke for air, they rested their foreheads against each other as more tears fell from Y/N’s eyes. Jensen pressed a chaste kiss against her mouth once more then moved to pull her into a tight embrace. Y/N stopped him before he could do any damage. 

“Gently,” she said quietly. Concern flooded him, his eyes dropping to look over her body. It was then he noticed just how small she had gotten. His eyes widened and he started to ask a question, but Y/N shook her head. “Later. Just be gentle.” 

Jensen nodded slightly, and pulled her into his arms, holding her as close to him as possible. She also wrapped her arms around him, turning and hiding her head into his neck. One of his hands slipped up into her hair, cradling the back of her head.  

“I missed you so much,” he whispered brokenly. It wasn’t until she felt his fine tremors that she realized he was crying too. 

“I’m not going anywhere ever again,” she whispered back. 

[leigh70]

Amazing, beautiful and heartwarming story!! I have never read anything quite like this, and I just adore!🥰🥰 Highly recommend reading this one! You won’t regret it!!❤️❤️

[reigningqueenofwords]

Pinky Promise

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 1,409

Read on AO3

“I have to go to my aunt’s wedding this weekend. So I won’t be able to play with you alllll weekend. I’m gonna be so bored.” You sighed, lying on the floor of the tree house your father built you a couple years prior. At 10, it was still your favorite place in the world. 

Dean made a face. “That sucks!” He was your best friend in the whole world, and you spent every weekend playing together. “What am I supposed to do? Play with Sammy?” 

You giggled at that. “Guess so.” You smiled at him. “What’re we gonna do when we grow up and get married?” You pouted. “We won’t be able to play every weekend together.” 

“Well, I just won’t get married if I can’t play with you.” He said easily. 

Sitting up, you had the look on your face that told him you had an idea. “What if we make a pinky swear?” You started. “If when we’re 25, we’re not married to other people… we get married.” Why wouldn’t you want to marry your best friend? 

He thought for a minute and held up his pinky. “Alright.” He grinned when you looped your pinky finger with his. 

It had been almost 15 years since that day. You hadn’t thought of that day in ages. Dean was still your best friend, too. That never changed, and neither of you let anyone get between the pair of you. Sure, there had been girls over the years that tried to get between you, but he swiftly dumped them. Chewing on your lip, you pulled up a text to Dean. Do you remember the pinky promise we made when we were 10? You sent. You and Dean shared a birthday, meaning both of you would be turning 25 in just over a month. 

After a few minutes, he replied. Sure do! 😉 He sent, making you chuckle and roll your eyes. Why, what’s up? Meet someone and need to back out? 

Your eyebrows shot up at that. Actually, I was just asking if you remembered. I mean, our birthdays are in a month. Don’t you think you should start looking at rings, mr? 😛 You sent, sitting up and looking around your room. It was December 20th, and you’d be driving home to your parents in a few days. You’d see Dean then, too. His parents lived a block over from yours. 

Who says I haven’t been doing that already? Hmmmm? He countered. 

You highly doubted that was the case. Are you trying to tell me that you, Dean Winchester, man who has never dated anyone for more than a year…has been looking at engagement rings and actually plans to make good on this 15 year old pinky promise? Getting up, you made your way to your kitchen. It was almost dinner time, but you didn’t know if you were actually hungry. Your mind was on overdrive. As you got older, you felt Dean would laugh off your pinky promise. He’d say you were just a couple of dumb kids. 

I take pinky promises extremely seriously. Especially ones with my best friend. He sent, making you smile softly at that. 

Please just don’t propose at Christmas in front of everyone lol That’s too much attention for my liking. You knew he’d understand. Small bits of attention were fine, but you liked blending into the background. He was the more outgoing of the two of you. 

I promise 😀 He assured you. What day are you getting here, anyway? 

The idea of dinner forgotten, you leaned against the counter. On the 23rd. You?  

You watched the little bubbles pop up on your phone, hoping he would get there early, too. Guess I’m getting there on the 23rd, too. Meet me in the tree house? I’ll bring the beer, you bring the pizza? 

Grinning, you giggled. Deal. Meet me there at about 4? 

It’s a date! 

The afternoon of the 23rd, you stepped into your parents house. “Dad!” You called out, dropping your bags. It was 2pm, so you had two hours before Dean showed up. 

“There’s my girl!” He grinned, pulling you into a hug. “How was your drive?”

“Good.” You told him. “We want to hang out in the tree house, but it’s cold. Help me hang up some blankets or something so we won’t freeze?” You asked, keeping your arms around him. 

He chuckled. “I did that yesterday. Dean called and tried to offer to pay for anything I need to make it a bit warmer out there. You could sleep out there. I made it so warm.” He said proudly. 

“Oh wow!” You chuckled. “Thank you! Where’s mom?” Although you’d seen them for Thanksgiving, you missed them a lot. 

“Getting ready for our date. I’m taking her out while you and Dean act like kids in the tree house again.” He kissed the top of your head. 

You laughed, looking forward to this time with your parents, and your best friend. As far as you knew, no one but the pair of you knew of your pact. You never mentioned it to your parents, or other friends. Dean never told you he’d told anyone, and he wasn’t one to be very open with many people. However, you also knew all parents involved would be excited. Your parents loved Dean, and his parents loved you. 

Dean hadn’t been lying. He had been looking at rings for you. He’d snuck into your childhood bedroom and borrowed a ring from your jewelry box when he was there for Thanksgiving. This way, he knew what size ring to get. He didn’t want to risk getting the wrong size. 

What you didn’t know was that part of the reason he never dated anyone for too long was because he kept this pact in mind. It had always been you. He crossed his fingers that you’d both reach 25, unmarried, and not in a serious relationship. 

He pulled into your parent’s driveway, grabbing the beer from the passenger’s seat. Part of him felt like he was coming home every time he got there. Smiling to himself, he made his way to the backyard. He could see some light from inside the tree house, and got excited. You were already in there. “Honey! I’m home!” He called, making his way up. It was a bit awkward with the bag with beer, but he managed. 

“Dean!” You beamed when you saw him. As soon as he was completely in the tree house, you all but tackled him. “I’ve missed you.” You pouted as you pulled away. 

He chuckled. “Well, here I am.” He swallowed. “I have something for you.” 

“Dean, Christmas is in two days. You can’t wait two days to give me my Christmas present?” You teased. 

“This isn’t your Christmas present. That’s in my trunk.” He told you, pulling out the small ring box. “I know we were just a couple silly kids when we made that pinky promise, but you’ve remained my best friend for all these years. You know just what to say on the days where everything has gone wrong. There’s no one else I could ever picture myself being with for the rest of my life. Will you make good on that pinky promise and marry me?” 

Your eyes were wide, and you felt a tear fall down your cheek. “Yes!” You grinned, watching him slip on the ring. “How long have you been planning this?” You giggled. 

“I borrowed an old ring of yours at Thanksgiving.” He admitted. “It’s on my nightstand. Kinda didn’t wanna give it back yet. And we spent a lot of time in this tree house, where else would I propose to you?” 

You couldn’t stop smiling. “Guess we should talk about moving closer together, huh? Or moving in together?”

“Actually…” 

Furrowing your brows, you weren’t sure what he was going to say. “What?” 

He looked proud. “I put a down payment on a house. Just a couple streets over.” He told you. “Your dad already has plans to buy a treehouse in that backyard.” 

“My dad knew about all this?” 

Dean shook his head. “He knows I’m buying that house, and that I’d like a treehouse like this one, but I didn’t tell him I was proposing.” While he knew your dad would approve, your dad might have let something slip. “So, looks like we have a wedding to plan, sweetheart.” 

“Damn right we do!” 

[leigh70]

Such a sweet, adorable story!!! Makes my heart happy!!🥰❤️🥰

[rizlowwritessortof]

Take a Shot

Written for @artyandink 's Jensen-a-thon event!

Let's face it, his henley looks good on both of you...

Pairing: Dean x F. Reader

Word Count: 935

Warnings: Nothing but a little good old-fashioned sexual tension, no smut, but Dean being Dean is a warning in itself 🔥🔥🔥 (Dividers by the absolutely lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics )

The tile floor is cool on your bare feet as you walk down the hall, your mind focused on the banana pudding left in the fridge from earlier tonight. If you can’t fall asleep, you might as well eat, right?

It’s kind of nice in the bunker when everyone else is in bed, only the dim light from the night lights that are always on in all the common rooms, the quiet hum of some mysterious machinery in the background, whatever it is that keeps the power on in this place. You shiver a little, the air cool on your legs. Why bother with pants when nobody else is around, anyway?

You’re halfway through the library on your way to the kitchen when Dean’s voice makes you nearly jump out of your skin, your heart pounding hard as you whirl around to face him. He’s standing across the room, a crystal tumbler of amber liquid in hand, his eyes shadowed in the half-dark. “Is that my shirt?”

“Damn it, Dean, you scared the living shit out of me!” you scold, your hand on your chest, trying to keep your heart from pounding its way free. “Why are you up? I thought you went to bed a couple of hours ago!”

An amused smile curves his lips. “Backatcha, sweetheart.”

“Well – I – I couldn’t go to sleep. So I wanted a snack.”

“Yeah, well, same here, and I wanted a drink. Mystery solved.” It’s slowly dawning on you that you’re half-dressed, and you feel the blush move up your neck, your cheeks warming as he stares you down. “You never answered me. Is that my shirt?”

You’re wearing a cream-colored henley that you may or may not have stolen – borrowed – when you were doing laundry last weekend. It’s so soft, and so big (because it’s his) and comfy, and yes, if you were being honest, you like wearing it because it belongs to him. It’s been against his skin. And you would deny that even under threat of torture.

“Yes, okay, I borrowed your shirt. And just for your information, I wouldn’t have come out here like this if I knew you were lurking around.”

“I’m not lurking. And just for your information, I don’t mind you coming out here like that.” In fact, he’s thoroughly enjoying the way his shirt looks on you. It’s soft, and it’s clinging just right to show every detail of the curves beneath – not to mention your perky nipples. No, he doesn’t really mind at all.

You can see his eyes sparkle even in the poor lighting, and you hope he can’t see your blush from where he’s standing. “Well, stop staring.” You turn your back and flounce from the room, heading to the kitchen and hoping with everything in you that the henley is covering your ass. You brush your hand back there, relieved that it is – barely – and walk resolutely to the fridge. Seriously, what the hell is he doing up, anyway?

You take the container and toss the lid into the sink, grabbing a spoon from the nearby drawer, and lean against the counter, taking a spoonful of the creamy treat and closing your eyes as it hits your tongue. So good. Totally worth a little embarrassment.

“So, you gonna share, or what?” You jump, startled again glaring up at him as he approaches.

“For fuck’s sake, Dean, could you wear a bell or something?” A thoroughly devilish grin flashes for a second, but he manages to rein it in quickly. You scoop another spoonful of the pudding, but he takes your hand in his and steers it up towards his mouth. You watch as he takes it in, those sinful lips closing around it and his eyes blinking slowly as he savors it with a soft hum. You feel your legs wobble a little, and things are clenching that should not be clenching just from watching someone eat banana pudding.

“That’s good.” He lets go of your hand, and after a couple of seconds you actually remember to take it back. You force your eyes down, but now the view is his shoulders and chest underneath another henley from his collection, this one a midnight blue, and he’s wearing sweats and his feet are bare. And you are hopelessly screwed. “Thought you were hungry,” he teases as you stand there with the empty spoon in the air, trying to remember how to breathe.

“I am – I was,” you stammer.

“Then why aren’t you eating?” He laughs softly at your defiant frown.

“Because you’re distracting me.”

“You started it.” You stare up at him, your eyes wide.

“Since when do you get distracted by me? You barely even notice me.”

“Shows how much you know.” You still stare at him skeptically, and he gnaws a bit at that plush lower lip before he continues. “Every night I walk by your door and I picture in my head what you might be wearing to bed. Some nights… well, let’s just say I really wanna open that door.”

You set the container of pudding and the spoon on the counter beside you, never taking your eyes off him. “Then why haven’t you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m afraid you’ll tell me to get lost.”

You’re starting to smile now. “You know what they say, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

Dean steps up close, his hand moving to stroke over your shoulder and down, curling his fingers around your arm as he leans in, his voice rumbling in your ear. “Oh, sweetheart – I don’t miss.”

Tags for my lovelies: 

 @saenalife    @deanscarlett    @jensensgotyoudean    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog 

   @geeklibrarian    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid      @mrswhozeewhatsis    @littlegreenplasticsoldier    @sleep-silent-angel  

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  @melanie451        @spectaculacular-sammy     @bookchic20    @jodyri    @selma-jean-blog   

        @savingapplepie-eatingthings    @kittenofdoomage    @masked-maiden42    @lean-mean-deanwinchester    @ericuhlorain  

  @undecided-garden    @ceeceewinchester    @typicalweirdbookworm          @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit    @youtoldalie 

   @tanithlowisabamf-blog    @deandoesthingstome    @jxackles    @nerdwholikesword    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic  

  @kreweofimp  @gabavaldman    @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog    @darkx143    @disassociativedogma   

 @ioanashalala    @jencharlan    @deansthirstblog     @dorky-and-i-know-it    @mischief-maker1   

 @winchestersandwordprocessors    @percussiongirl2017    @bringmesomepie56   @akshi8278    @torn-and-frayed  

  @sandlee44   @wingedcatninja  @evansrogerskitten   @emoryhemsworth  @peaceinourtime82 

 @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior  @sarcasmqueen74   @maliburenee     @mrsjenniferwinchester   @yeehawbitchs  

 @emily-winchester  @hobby27    spnbaby-67   @zepskies

[leigh70]

So steamy and sexy without the sex!!! So fun and flirty! And I can 100% hear that last line in Dean’s voice!!❤️❤️

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Happiness Continues Masterlist

A Sequel to Happiness Begins

Summary: Jensen and Y/n are about to embark on their most important journey of all time. How will life, family, and fans disrupt their plans? (Complete)

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Plus Size Reader

Series Warnings: Language, angst, unprotected sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), pregnancy and pregnancy-related issues, descriptions of labor and delivery, stalker and related situations (warnings subject to change as the story evolves, individual chapters will be marked accordingly)

Keep reading

[leigh70]

And there is a second part to the Happiness series!!! If you enjoyed the first, you’ll love this one!!! ❤️❤️❤️

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Happiness Begins Masterlist

Summary: Jared’s younger sister agreed to help out for a few months when one of Supernatural’s makeup artists takes her maternity leave. Trying to juggle her new job and her burgeoning brand, she turns to Jensen for comfort. Can their relationships survive Jared finding out that his best friend slept with his baby sister? (Complete)

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Plus Sized!Reader

Series Warnings: Language, angst, smut, age gap, self-image issues, mental health issues, exhaustion, excessive alcohol consumption, family and socital pressures, marijuana use, brief discussion of emotional abuse, spn canon typical violence, verbal altercations, (individual chapters will contain relevant warnings)

Note, this series underwent an overhaul which included a change in name. Previously known as Et Cetera

Keep reading

[leigh70]

Didn’t get very much sleep last night because of THIS story. I couldn’t stop reading it. Every time I tried to put it down I was drawn back to it. It has everything you could possibly want…from the silly to the sultry; from heartwarming to heartbreaking. It’s fantastic and totally worth losing sleep over!!!!❤️

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

One Shots Masterlist

Grouped Together:

First Time “Series”

This is a series of one shots that all go together.

Even though he’s a lot older than she is, and more experienced in every possible sense, Y/N finds herself incredibly attracted to Dean Winchester. Amazingly, one day she starts to think that maybe the attraction isn’t all one-sided.

This isn’t a series in the traditional sense, because each story can sort of be read separately, but they’re definitely better if they’re read together/in order. So, have fun and binge read ‘em! I plan to keep adding stories to this little anthology, so check back regularly!

The Masterlist is linked above, or you can read them separately below. The stories are listed in the order they should be read:

First Time For Everything

An Introduction to Heroes and Monsters

A Deeper Kind of Kiss

The Evils of Liquor

When You’re Ready

Love; for the First Time

An Unreliable Reflection

Show and Tell

Natural Woman

The Hero, The Myth, The Legend

She’s heard a lot of stories about Dean Winchester.  Can she believe them?  She’s determined to find out the truth for herself.

Walk Away From Me

It’s been almost three months since Y/N has seen Dean. She hasn’t been able to forget their night together, has he?

If You Could Only See Me Now

Dean is in control and that’s just how Y/N likes it.

You Read My Mind

Y/N can’t tell Dean how much she wants him, but maybe he’ll hear her anyway.

Dance With Me?

Y/N is shy and not sure why she agreed to come to a strip club. Can the very hot, green-eyed dancer pull her out of her shell, and out of her clothes?

In No Mood For Games

Y/N has wanted him for weeks, but he’s ignored her. But her timing might be right tonight.

No Regrets

Jo immediately regrets saying no to Dean’s proposal. Is there a chance to change her answer?

It’s All For You

After a hunt gone wrong, all Y/N wants is to make Dean feel better. Will he let her.

A Carnal Kind of Heaven

They both want to worship at the shrine of the other’s body.

The Bearer of Good News

Dean has some good news to share with Ellie. How will they celebrate?

An Unreliable Reflection

Y/N overhears two women having a cruel conversation about her one night, and is very hurt. She refuses to tell Dean what happened. Can Dean get it out of her somehow?

Show and Tell: An Unreliable Reflection Timestamp

The morning after Dean tells Y/N that he loves her and desires her, Y/N still wonders why. Dean decides to provide some show and tell to explain.

Go Before You Say Goodbye

Dean tells Y/N to go. Sam tells Y/N Dean wants her to stay. Who will she listen to, or should she just listen to her heart?

First Time For Everything

Y/N has waited a long time for her first kiss, has she just been waiting for Dean all this time?

Safe When Darkness Falls

Dean vows to never let anything hurt Sammy again.

Movie Date Do-Over

After Y/N returns from a disappointing date, Dean is determined to cheer her up.

An Introduction to Heroes and Monsters

Y/N is about to learn what goes bump in the night, and just who bumps them back. (Prequel to “First Time For Everything.”

A Deeper Kind of Kiss

Y/N is ready to explore a new first with Dean, but will her harsh upbringing get in the way?

Making Out For Lost Time

Dean has plans for Date Night, and Y/N doesn’t!

Be My Cherry Pie

Dean’s wanted Y/N for so long, but she seems completely uninterested, making him resort to less than grown up tactics to get her attention.

Reckless and Raging

Y/N knows she made a mistake, but Dean’s fury at her isn’t making it easy to admit to. But why is he so completely furious?

The Evils of Liquor

Y/N wants to experience being drunk for the first time, but what’s making Dean discourage her from doing it?

Welcome Home, Dean

Dean’s been gone too long, and Y/N’s more than happy to welcome him home.

Breaking

Y/N and Dean play some pool; who’s the winner?

The Mission (Non-Destiel)

Castiel is intrigued by his mission; rescuing a human from hell has never been attempted. He’s even more intrigued when he finds him.

Huh, Not That Complicated After All

Dean figures out how to make shower sex not so complicated.

Write Love on My Skin

Y/N’s bored and wants to play a game with Dean. Who will win?

Natural Woman

Dean catches Y/N dancing and singing in their bedroom, and loves the show.

Prettiest One

Dean’s leg is broken and they’ve given him lots of morphine for the pain. What secrets will he reveal to Y/N?

Make it Better

Y/N is at the end of her rope. Can Dean help her hold on?

When You’re Ready

Y/N’s distracted by the events of the night before, but she’s also ready to go even farther today.

Love; for the First Time

Y/N’s first time with Dean may reveal other firsts for both of them.

Saints are Sinners Too

Y/N has some confessing to do.

Still Love Me?

Y/N wants to help Dean deal with the mark - in whatever way he needs.

A Healing Kiss

Y/N causes Dean a bit of damage. Can she fix it with a…kiss?

Three is NOT a Crowd

Y/N might be ready to try something new.

The Right Time and Place

There’s no time like the present.

[leigh70]

Did I whet your appetite yesterday with the drabbles? If do, fear not. There is more where those came from!! if you have a bit more time, here are @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior one-shots! Pick one or read them all (or read-read). You won’t be disappointed!!!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Drabbles Masterlist

Champagne Dreams

Can Y/N change Dean’s opinion of champagne?

The Darkness Warms Me

She knows what she wants. Can Dean help her find it?

Promises

How much can Dean really promise her?

My First Day

Officer Lang is fresh out of the academy. Her first traffic stop is a 67 Chevy Impala.

Going For a Ride

Abaddon has always wanted to take Dean Winchester for a ride. What kind of ride will it be.

It’s Now or Never

Y/N has been in love with Dean for a year. Will she make a move, or let the moment slip by?

Never Say Goodbye

Nightmares are hard to banish, even when the light returns.

Down the Rabbit Hole

Couples costumes are always fun, right?

All I Need is You

A terrible day has stolen Y/N’s joy, can Dean bring it back?

You Give Me Fever

Dean’s been gone so long and Y/N is determined to enjoy his return, fever be damned.

Dean: New and Improved

It’s been two years since Y/N has seen Dean, two years since he walked out of her life. Now he’s back and Y/N may be surprised to learn why.

In the Impala

Y/N remembers Dean and the Impala through the years.

Best. Gift. Ever

Dean comes by to celebrate Mother’s Day.

How To Annihilate Your To-Do List

Y/N has a very long to-do list, can Dean convince her to let it get longer, and stay in bed with him instead?

I’m the Monster Now

Dean knows he’s a monster but Y/N will not believe him.

The Sacrifice

I swear, if you could see him, you’d get it.

Finish What You Started

Dean coming from the shower, need I say more.

The Savior

Y/N tries to make Dean believe he was her savior, but he knows it’s the other way around.

All of That and More

Dean comes home looking for the softness Y/N has to offer.

Safe from Something

How do you fight against things you can’t even describe?

The Scrappy Huntress

The Winchesters might end up with a new member of Team Free Will.

You Really Tickle Me

Dean discovers Y/N’s ticklish side and shows no mercy!

To Soothe the Savage Beast

Dean is in a very grumpy mood. Can Y/N tease him out of it?

In Living Color

Y/N never knew how much color existed in the world till a green-eyed hunter stumbled into her path.

Madness

Dean wants EVERYONE to know that you belong to him.

Use Me

You’ll do anything to make Dean’s nightmares go away.

Even Better Than Pie

Y/N knows just how to make Dean smile.

Show Me What You’re Hiding

Y/N gets a glimpse of Dean, and is desperate to see even more.

I Still Hear You

Y/N can still hear Dean’s voice echo around her. She doesn’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse.

Distracted Driving

Y/N is out to prove she’s a better driver than Dean, and Dean’s very determined to distract her from that.

Love Misunderstood

The moment came and went so fast, but Y/N has regretted it ever since.

Believe Me When I Tell You

Dean will always keep his promises.

I See You

His eyes won’t leave her body, he needs to see her pleasure.

All In or All Out

Dean needs an answer.

When the Stars Love You

Dean belongs in the starlight.

Home

Dean comes home.

The Haircut

Y/N is trying to Dean a favor. How can he repay her?

Lend a Helping Hand

Dean wants to lend a helping hand.

Always

When Y/N storms out in anger, Dean is afraid he’s lost her.

Flash Fiction Drabbles

Dance Like a Fool

Dean doesn’t dance…or does he?

I’ve Got You

Dean won’t let go.

Saying Nothing At All

How does Dean say I love you?

The Lie in the Lyric

Y/N is gone, leaving Dean alone with only her memory.

In His Arms

There’s nothing more beautiful than feeling safe.

The Monsters in Disguise

Dean Winchester slays all monsters.

Stolen Moments: A Flash Fic Series - Masterlist

Fleeting moments in Dean and Y/N’s relationship tell whether or not they’ll get a happily-ever-after.

[leigh70]

Calling all Dean girls or Dean-curious girls!!if you haven’t read @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior, you are seriously missing out! If you only have a few minutes, check out the drabbles. Short and chocked full of emotion that will leave you pining for more!!

[impala-dreamer]

~You woke up in a trashed motel room covered in someone else’s blood and no memories of the past week.~

Series Warnings: Language and Visuals, Memory Loss, Hurt/Comfort, Anger, Violence, Injury in later chapters, Murder, etc. A few tears along the way.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

[leigh70]

This is one of the most well written, intense, mind blowing series I have ever read. I highly recommend reading! ❤️