i saw the requests post and couldn't miss it 🤭 how about charlie pairing up her very single friend with a very emotionally constipated hunter? just dean flirting shamelessly because reader is a cutie and he has the full green light from charlie to lay it on thick ☝🏻🙂↕️
i love you and it's incredibly awesome to have you back 🩷
Just Give Me A Second
Summary: When your friend Charlie pulls you into the orbit of Dean Winchester, you have a choice to make: fall for his charm, or give him a run for his money.
Contents: Dean + Reader, strangers to friends, Charlie is an innocent wing woman just trying to help her friends out, teasing, flirting, drinking, awkward silences, and plotting revenge.
Note: This was written completely with you in mind, Liv. I hope you find all my little nuggets. It's funny to me that I had the first part written in about an hour, and then struggled for three days before a good idea came to me. But it is fun and cute and I hope you like it!
The first time you heard the name Dean Winchester, you weren’t quite sure what to think.
You didn’t know why Charlie brought him up in the first place. Both of you had been hanging out by the coffee pot, not willing to leave and risk losing claim to the first fresh cup that was currently brewing. Charlie asked about your weekend, which was completely uneventful, and when you inquired back, she got this weird look on her face and said it was interesting.
“Ok, but you can’t just say that and not give me details.” You demanded, trying to figure out why she looked both pleased and scared at the same time.
“I-I-…well, I, uh, kinda got roped into a side gig and helped possibly save some lives?” Charlie replied impishly, a smile spreading across her face.
You stared at her dumbfounded. The percolator hissed next to you, the red light dimming to indicate it was done. Neither of you moved.
“What are you talking about?” You hissed, eyeing the door to the break room to make sure no one was nearby.
“Well, you know that I had my Larping event this weekend, right?” Charlie waited for you to nod. “It kinda turned dark, and a couple people died, but then I freed a fairy from a curse, and…”
“Charlie,” you cut in, your eyes growing wider by the second, “people died? You sound insane, you know that?” You watched her ponder that while looking a bit embarrassed. “And a fairy! You mean someone larping as a fairy, right?”
“No…” Her voice squeaked a little as she trailed off.
“But there’s no such thing as fairies!”
“Well, that’s not true, you’ve just never seen one. Dean told me this fairy was totally different from the last one he fought off.”
“Who is Dean?” You racked your brain, but that definitely wasn’t someone she had mentioned before.
“Oh, Dean? Well, him and his brother, Sam, they, well…” Charlie twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “They, uh, save people from bad things.”
“Like fairies?” You asked incredulously.
“No, fairies are good! This one was just bound by a spell to hurt others.”
Your brain was about to explode. Charlie was smiling at you like she had taken a hit of acid, and you were about to ask her if that was actually the case, when your manager walked in and asked if the coffee was done. Figuring that it wasn’t smart to talk nonsense in front of others, you poured yourself a cup while Charlie chatted with the manager about the meeting later that afternoon.
Even though you were kitty corner from Charlie, you both got pulled into different projects and didn’t talk for the rest of the day. On your lunch break, you did a search for fairies that led you down a rabbit hole of conspiracy theories and people who had seen spirits in their basements. Half of it sounded batshit crazy. But you had known Charlie for almost 6 months now, and she wasn’t one to overexaggerate things. At least, you didn’t think so.
Waiting by the elevators for Charlie to finish her work and walk down with you, you debated whether to bring this all up again. It was too early in the friendship for you to consider calling a professional for a psych exam, but at the same time, you were concerned that something was really wrong.
Before you could decide what you wanted to do, Charlie snuck up next to you, bumped your hip, and grinned.
“I did something.” She teased. There was a glint in her eye that you had only seen once before. And that night had ended very badly.
“What?” You groaned, pressing the ‘down’ button to call the elevator.
“I sorta asked Sam and Dean if they could let me know the next time they were nearby. And then we can all get drinks.”
“You want me to get drinks with the people you claim hunt evil?” You leveled her with a look you usually gave your dog when he was getting into something he wasn’t supposed to.
“Well, it occurred to me at lunch, that you have been struggling to find someone, and Dean is very cute and very single…”
“Charlie!” You shrieked. Thankfully, you were alone in the elevator, so no one was going to come running at the sound of your panic. “You just said “next time he is in town”. Which means he doesn’t live here. Why would I want to go on a date with someone I can’t see regularly?”
“Trust me,” Charlie continued, like there was no room for argument. “You’re gonna love him.”
Begrudgingly, you had to admit that Charlie had been right.
Dean Winchester was, in fact, a lot more than just cute.
You were sitting down in a booth when the Winchesters arrived, which only emphasized their height. For a second, you thought they were strangers that had come to tell you they had just backed into your car. But when Charlie saw them, she squealed and jumped out of the booth. The taller one was smiling, his hair falling into his eyes as he leaned over to embrace her. When Charlie moved to hug the other one, you noticed he was a little stiffer, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He also whispered something into her ear. Charlie beamed and nodded.
Charlie introduced you, then grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him to the bar. Before you could call after her, Dean slid across from you and crossed his arms over the table.
“Hey.” This smile was different than the one he had given Charlie. You also didn’t miss his eyes grazing over your body.
“Hi.” You picked up your drink and tried not to shudder. Even though he was incredibly good looking, he was coming on way too strong.
“I’ve heard a lot about you from Charlie.” Dean’s tongue flicked over his lips like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.
“Like what?” You asked, trying to keep the smile off your face.
“Uh, well, she said that you guys worked together. So, you must be good with computers.”
“Well, it is a software company. I would hope that they hired competent staff.” You delivered sarcastically.
Dean blinked quickly, and then looked over at the bar and shifted in his seat. He glanced at you again.
“How long you guys known each other?”
“Since she started.”
With a sigh, Dean started drumming his fingers on the table. It was obvious that he didn’t usually get this much resistance and was mentally trying to figure out what to do next.
“You, uh, need a refill?” Dean offered, pointing at your glass.
“Nah, I’m good.” You sipped at your drink as Dean slid off the bench and made his way to the bar. He made a direct beeline for Charlie and Sam, and a smile tugged at your face. He might be cocky, but he folded like a cheap suit when he was challenged. And that was highly entertaining.
You pretended not to watch Dean converse with Charlie. He seemed a little irritated, especially when Charlie shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. They exchanged some more words while Sam sat between them looking miserable. Suddenly, all three of them glanced at you. Before you could choose whether to ignore them or stare back, Dean was crossing the room with a beer bottle in his hand.
“Everything alright?” You questioned sweetly.
“Oh, yeah.” Dean waved his hand and scoffed. “Just a little friendly teasing.”
“Ah, okay.”
Dean had apparently decided to take a different approach and seemed to be quietly waiting for you to show interest. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of striking up a conversation, so you let your eyes graze over the bar. Still, you could feel his blood pressure rising as the silence stretched on.
“You, uh, know how to play pool?”
“Nope.” You replied simply.
“I could teach you if you…”
“Nah,” you interjected. “Not interested.”
With tight knuckles, Dean brought his beer to his lips. He didn’t even try to be subtle about the glare he shot in Charlie’s direction. Pressure was building in the back of your throat and chest from holding down your laughter. You weren’t sure if you could keep it reined in much longer. From inside your purse, your phone trilled with a notification.
“Sorry.” You grabbed your phone and woke up the screen. It was from Charlie.
Stop toying with him! You’re being mean.
“Wait.” Dean said slowly as you tried to rearrange your face to hide the giggle that was bubbling. “I know that tune.”
Now it was your turn to look a little stunned.
“I doubt it.” You told him as your pulse began to quicken.
“No, no, it’s…it’s right there.” Dean furrowed his eyebrows. Your phone was long forgotten in your hand as you watched him think.
With a snap of his fingers, his eyes lit up, and he said the name of your favorite anime. One that you had been convinced was obscure enough that no one would ever link you to it. Your jaw went slack.
“You know about that show?” You blurted out.
“Know it? I was just watching it last night!”
Both of you stared at each other in awe. Now you felt a little bad about messing around with him. Maybe he wasn’t just the charming bad boy that you had painted him as.
“Have you seen the whole thing?” You wondered hesitantly.
“I’m close, got a few more episodes before I finish it.” Dean’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and your stomach twisted in delight.
Abandoning your teasing, you and Dean talked for almost two hours. You had forgotten what it was like to discuss something you enjoyed and not try to hide your inner geek. Even after the conversation shifted away from the show, you could feel the connection between you strengthening. It almost felt like time stilled around you. When Charlie walked over and asked if you were ready to go, you stared at her because you had genuinely forgotten she was there.
Dean was quick to ask if you wanted to exchange numbers. There was no hesitation in grabbing his phone and typing in your info. Charlie stood over the table grinning. Part of you wanted to give her crap for whatever she had told Dean this was. The other part was hoping that one day you’d be thankful she introduced the two of you.
Both of you stood and Dean leaned in first to give you a hug. Cedarwood and leather filled your nose, making you want to pull him even closer so the smell would linger. Just as you were starting to pull away, Dean tightened his grip and put his cheek up against your ear.
“Next time I see you,” he whispered, “I’m getting back at you for tormenting me.”
Your stomach dropped out from under you. It took your limbs a little longer to return to your side once Dean had shifted to hug Charlie goodbye. Sam gave you a quizzical look before waving goodbye and heading towards the door with his brother.
“So, it went well?” Charlie asked excitedly. You were watching the boys leave, and Dean turned and threw a wink over his shoulder before the door closed.
Face flushed, you looked over at your friend. “I am in serious trouble.”
Please like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoy! Thank you for reading!
please let me know if this isn't specific enough!!
but i'd really like more of your sam angst, i am in love with the way you write him & i really loved the fic about him defending reader in the bar + when he was trying to find a demon who would make a deal with him after dean died 🥺
maybe an argument between him and reader, or placing them in a stressful situation thay causes an argument or something. literally i will be happy with whatever you come up with even if it's none of the above lol
literally just sam + angst = a v happy daisy ! xx
Even Then
Summary: You're convinced that Sam is never going to forgive you, until he explains things from his perspective.
Content: Sam x Reader, swearing, lying, mentions of reader being hurt and restrained on a hunt, angsty feelings, avoidance/silent treatment, uhhmmm idk if there are other warnings.
Note: Well, my dear @dontlistentodaisy, I hope this is angsty enough for you. I actually had a Sam x Reader fight that I've been struggling with for a couple months, and I thought I would make some edits and it would come out great. Instead, I went a whoooollleee different direction. I hope you like it. And thank you for saying you like how I write Sam, he doesn't come as easily to me as Dean does, but I love learning about his character and showing sides we might not have seen.
You were royally fucked.
It wasn’t just that you had taken on a hunt without backup, ended up being held hostage for four days because the spirit was a sadistic bastard, and then fractured your wrist in your haste to escape.
No, you were fucked because Sam Winchester had specifically told you not to go.
And now you had absolutely no idea if he would be pissed or relieved to see you.
To deepen the wound even more, you had called Dean when you finally got to a gas station with a phone. You could practically feel Sam simmering in the background as you asked the cashier where you were so that you could get picked up. Once Dean finally showed up (with no Sam riding shotgun), he waited a total of about ten minutes before asking why you had called him instead of Sam.
“Sam would have had to ask you to take the car.” You lied. “It was easier this way.” Dean hummed in acknowledgement, but you knew that he didn’t believe you. “Why…uh…why didn’t he come with?”
“He said he had something to finish up.” Dean offered, not taking his eyes off the road.
If you called him a liar, he would just throw it right back at you. So instead, neither of you talked the rest of the way home, which did nothing but build the dread in your gut. You debated delaying this further by having Dean take you to urgent care, but you knew the sooner you faced Sam, the sooner your anxiety would ease.
Once you got back to the bunker, Dean muttered something about being glad you were safe and then disappeared. Which left you to find Sam, because if you went straight to your room and hid from him, there was no chance in hell he was going to forgive you.
The public areas were empty, so he had to have gone into his room. Knowing Sam, it was to have as much privacy as possible. Waiting after you knocked on the door felt like hours instead of seconds. Your heart was hammering in your chest. Finally, you heard a response that you could enter.
Sam was sitting on the floor with his back against the foot of the bed, one leg stretched out and the other bent at the knee. Although he didn’t look up as you came in, you immediately noticed the layer of fuzz growing along his jaw. His torso was covered with a baggy sweatshirt and his hair looked limp and oily. You picked at the skin around your nails as you watched him, wincing with the movement of your bandaged wrist but continuing habitually. Did he want you to say something first? Or did he want to punish you by sitting in silence?
“Are you hurt?” Sam finally asked.
“Some scratches,” you replied quietly, “and I screwed up my wrist pretty bad. Probably gonna need a cast.”
“Dean can take you in the morning.”
If it wasn’t for the fact that you knew Sam better than anyone, you would have brushed off the comment and chalked it up to him being busy. But there was ice behind his tone; this was the slow wind up before the pitch.
“Sam, I didn’t…” Your words got stuck in your throat. Pushing down the emotion that flooded you took tremendous effort. “I called Dean because I was scared.”
“Scared of me?” He asked gruffly.
“No, scared that you wouldn’t come pick me up.”
Finally, Sam looked up at you. His normally bright eyes were rimmed with red like he had been rubbing them repeatedly. It was difficult to read the expression on his face because you had never seen it before. Sam clambered to his feet and faced you squarely.
“If that was your first instinct,” Sam growled, “you clearly don’t know me very well.”
Before you could process what was happening, Sam stepped forward and herded you back to the door. Once you were out in the hall, he closed the door sharply, leaving you standing there with your mouth agape.
After the clock read 2 am, you decided that sleep was never going to come. When you closed your eyes, you either saw glimpses of your time tied up in the basement, or the deadpan look on Sam’s face as he kicked you out of his room. All you had wanted to do was hide from Sam’s anger, and instead, somehow you had made it worse. Never in your life had you seen Sam that upset. And you didn’t even get a chance to say hi or hug him like you had desperately wanted to.
For the rest of the morning, your thoughts raced. What you should have said instead. How you could make this better. The way that Sam would respond if you explained your logic for how things went down. You spiraled your way into a plan, and once you were one hundred and ten percent sure it couldn’t go wrong, you put it into action.
Dean didn’t seem all that surprised to find you sitting in the kitchen when he stumbled in. He thanked you for making coffee, but you were on your third cup and hyper focused on the plan. It was time to fix this and make it right. Sam had to come in here eventually, and you were gonna get down on your hands and knees and beg for his forgiveness.
When Sam finally arrived, in a tank top and basketball shorts with fresh sweat dripping down his neck, he barely glanced at you on his way to the fridge.
“Sam,” you started after a deep breath, “I know that this hasn’t been an easy week. And I just wanted to…”
Your voice trailed after Sam, who had grabbed a protein shake and immediately walked back out. No acknowledgement, no pause to hear what you had to say, he had just straight up ignored you. You sat there buffering like an old computer, trying to make sense of it.
It happened two other times that day. When you found Sam in an old records room digging through boxes, he mumbled that he found what he needed and promptly left empty handed. After lunch, you followed Dean out to the garage, despite his mantra that he didn’t need help, because you were desperate to talk to someone. Instead, Dean studiously avoided all your questions and under-handed comments, and when Sam paused in the doorway and met your eyes, he turned away instead of entering.
Dean offered to order pizza for dinner. Even though you were starving, the thought of food was enough to stir the nausea in your gut. Still, you hoped it might bring the three of you around a table, so you agreed and demanded Dean order extra olives for Sam. Twenty minutes later, you realized your effort was futile. Sam grabbed an apple off the counter and said he was going for a walk and wasn’t interested in pizza.
Anger flared through you as Sam headed out into the hallway. How could one man be so stubborn and refuse to look you in the eye? It wasn’t even like you had been avoiding him, he was enacting all this on you! The least he could do was tell you that he didn’t feel like talking or promise to work through it later.
You’d had enough of the silent treatment. Dean was smart enough to keep his mouth shut as you stormed after Sam. He ignored you yelling his name, and when the front door slammed shut, you cursed and ran back to your room to put on shoes.
“Samuel!” You screamed over the wind.
Finally, Sam chose to acknowledge you and stopped walking. His face was neutral as you marched towards him, but you could see his jaw tightening.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” You gasped when you finally reached him. “I have to chase you down to get you to talk to me now?”
Sam shrugged his shoulders. It reminded you of a little kid who knew they had done something wrong but wouldn’t admit it. Part of you wanted to lecture him about his silence, but you also were ready for him to bolt, so you needed to be precise with your words.
“Fine, then just listen.” You exhaled and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you about going to Nebraska. It was stupid and reckless, and I got what I deserved by getting hurt and captured. And I should have called you first instead of Dean. But the entire time I was walking back to town, all I could think about was you saying “I told you so” and hanging up, and I couldn’t handle that. Not after everything that had already happened. So, I’m sorry.” Tears pricked at your eyes, your vision blurring. “And I really wish that you would just talk to me.”
Sam sighed heavily before closing the gap between you and placing his hands on your shoulders. You wanted to lean into him, but he was already opening his mouth to speak.
"I don't want an apology. I never did.” Sam shook his head. “I wanted you to understand what you did."
“I know what I did, Sam!” You exclaimed. “I screwed up!”
“That’s not what I mean.” Sam paused, his eyes flickering over your features. His hands slid down to your waist like he was trying to ground himself. “When you didn’t come back that night, I knew that you had gone to Nebraska. But I figured you would call me in the morning and either admit you shouldn’t have been alone or tell me how you kicked ass.” He smiled when you snorted through your nose. “Instead, you disappeared. If you hadn’t broken your phone, maybe you’d get it. I called you fifty times. I spent hours trying to trace your location. Dean was about to lock me in my room so that I didn’t just start driving aimlessly to find you.”
You watched Sam’s face twist with pain at the memory. He was right, maybe you would have realized how panicked he was if your phone hadn’t been smashed to bits.
“Then you call Dean and ask him to come get you? And waltz back in here like my whole world hadn’t been upside down for three days? I couldn’t…” Sam’s voice cracked. He swallowed and squeezed your hip. “I was angry. Because you clearly didn’t understand what I had just gone through. Here I am terrified I’ll never see you again, and you’re worried that I’m mad enough to leave you there? I would have gotten into a clown car if I had to. And yeah, the silent treatment probably wasn’t…”
Pushing up to your tip toes, you threw your arms around Sam’s neck, silencing him. He stilled briefly before wrapping you tightly in his hold. A tear slipped down your cheek. Sam’s breathing softened the longer you stood there in each other’s embrace.
“Sam,” you whispered into his neck, “the only thing that kept me functioning in that house was the thought of coming back here to you. I should have known that you would do anything you could to get me back. I never should have doubted you.”
“Don’t forget next time.” Sam replied, squeezing you around the middle.
“Next time!” You shrieked, pulling back and smacking his chest. Sam was desperately trying to hide his laughter. “Sam, I swear to…”
Sam grabbed the back of your neck before you could finish and kissed you feverishly. You melted against him, the anger already dissipating, because no matter what happened next, you knew that Sam would be there.
Please comment, like, and reblog if you enjoyed this!
“I don’t need you to coddle me.” “No, you don’t. But I need to protect you, you understand?”
pretty pretty please with dean 🥺🩷
Qualified
Summary: Dean tries to stop you from hunting after an injury
Content: Dean + Reader (friends), mention of previous injury, Dean being overprotective, Sam being sweet, Warning: mentions of fire and getting caught in a room filled with fire, some light fluff at the end
Note: I struggled with some writer's block, so thank you for your patience @notmeolive. I hope you enjoy :) Ily
Rolling your eyes, you ignored the hunter standing in your doorway and shoved another piece of clothing into your bag.
“Because if you want to sit this one out, I’m okay with that.”
“Dean?” You spoke firmly as you zipped your bag. “Shut up.”
“I’m just saying…”
“And if you do, you’re gonna get a shoe thrown at you.” With a sigh, you turned and looked at him. “I don’t need you to coddle me.”
“No, you don’t, but I need to make sure you’re protected, okay? Especially with a fractured ankle.”
“A fracture that has healed and been cleared by both a doctor and an angel of the lord.” Grabbing your bag, you shoved past Dean, who was opening his mouth to argue, and out into the hallway. “I’m all set, let’s roll.” You added over your shoulder.
“A powerless angel!” Dean barked as a rebuttal.
“Move your ass, Winchester,” you hollered down the hall, “or I’m gonna leave without you.”
If it wasn’t so infuriating, you would have found it sweet that Dean was worried about you. The break had been nasty. Holed up in bed for a week before the swelling went down enough to put a cast on it, and then chaotically moving around on crutches while Cas frowned and apologized for being human. Dean had been a good friend, checking on you, helping you maneuver around, and constantly yelling at you for not sitting still. Even though you tried to remind him about the time that he had hacked off his own cast for the sake of a case.
“Different circumstances,” he had explained as he walked you back to the Dean cave where you had been sitting for the last three days. “Sammy was in trouble.”
“I’m not even trying to go out on a hunt with you guys.” You whined. “I just want to go outside and get some fresh air.”
Dean had tried to entice you with the TV, saying that he would sit and watch a movie with you, but you pouted in hopes that he would stop playing prison guard. Finally, insisting that he carry you, he let you sit and watch him tune up Baby in the garage. Of course, he first made a makeshift cot where you could put your foot up, got you ice and a blanket (because the ice always made you cold), and told you that if you moved, he was sending you back to bed.
So, naturally, you were completely over Dean bossing you around and calling all the shots. You were ready to get back to work. Walking into the garage, you found Sam waiting next to the car.
“Did he try to talk you out of coming?” Sam smirked.
“Of course he did.” You tossed your bag into the trunk. “Do you have the keys? Can we leave without him?”
Sam groaned your name, tired of being stuck between you two. Dean appeared through the doorway, his own duffle strapped over his shoulder. Wordlessly he and Sam loaded up the rest of the supplies while you sat in the back seat. It wasn’t worth it to push and try to help, you knew it would just cause another argument.
While Dean drove, Sam filled you in on the case. There had been some fires in St Johns, Arizona that the police couldn’t explain. There was always one or two people killed in the blaze, and experts weren’t able to determine how the fire had started.
“It sounds like something supernatural is starting the fire.” You thought out loud.
“Or magic.” Dean added. “It sounds witchy to me.”
You all debated for a little while longer, and then conversation lulled and Dean turned up the radio. Sam groaned and asked if he could please play something that wasn’t from the 80s, but Dean reminded him of the house rule and increased the volume. You flipped open a novel and read for the rest of the drive.
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
Once everyone was settled, you all split up to check some of the previous sites. Dean insisted that someone stay with you in case your foot started to hurt, which caused a bit of tension. Sam interjected and offered to go with you, which made Dean happy, but you couldn’t hide your frustration.
“Why does he insist on treating me like a child?” You complained while scouring the half-burned house. Dean had dropped you both off twenty minutes ago and you couldn’t let go of your frustration.
“Are you asking me or just complaining?” Sam wondered.
“Both?”
“It’s Dean’s way of showing that he cares.” Sam offered. “And controlling the situation so that no one gets hurt. You get used to it after a while.”
“I don’t want to get used to it.” You aimed your flashlight at the charred wall of the room. “I want him to trust me.”
“It doesn’t mean he doesn’t trust you.” Sam put his hand on your shoulder. “It means that he’s going to do everything in his power to keep you safe.”
You both continued moving around the room in silence. Ruminating over what Sam had said, you tried to push down your annoyance. Being important enough that Dean wanted to protect you should be a positive feeling, not something you dreaded.
“Does it seem like the fire was almost blown in this direction?” You asked Sam, noting how there was a curved invisible line dividing where no there were no fire marks. Everything seemed to be contained to the back corner of the room.
“I wonder if this thing or person can control fire with their hands.” Sam paused, and you could almost see his brain flipping through all of the possible options. “Or maybe it’s a dragon. Although they usually keep their prey, not burn them alive.”
“This definitely could be a pyrokinetic.” You mused. “I want to look at the case files, see what they all have in common. Maybe it’s some revenge plan.”
“That’s a good thought. Once we get back to the motel I’ll pull them up on my computer.”
Pulling your phone out of your back pocket, you texted Dean that you were ready to do some research.
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
After two days, you were pretty sure that this was in fact a witch. Many of the victims had been in the same circle as Violet Mitchell, who did not shy away from anything related to the occult on her social media. There were also hints that many of these people had done something to wrong Violet. Now, the trickiest part was to find her.
“Sam, you go check out Violet’s house.” Dean tapped the notebook on the table in front of him. “We’ll go check on this guy, Andrew DiNozzo, and see if he’s seen her.”
Since Sam had already found a car to borrow, you and Dean left the motel and crossed town.
“Why Andrew?” You asked, flipping closed the notebook you had brought along.
“I have a hunch he had a fling with Violet but wouldn’t leave his wife.” Dean said matter-of-factly. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”
“That’s some theory.” You murmured, and Dean bit back a chuckle.
“You feeling okay?” Dean glanced over at you from the driver’s seat.
“I can definitely tell I haven’t used it in a while, but its fine.” You shifted in your seat.
“You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not.” You retorted, trying to hide the warmth on your face.
“You get twitchy when you lie, it’s your tell.” Dean adjusted his hand on the wheel. He looked over at you, daring you to tell him he was wrong, before turning his eyes back to the road.
“Okay, it hurts, a lot. But we’re almost there, I can push through it.”
“I’m gonna make you stay in the car.”
“Dean,” you said sharply, “I appreciate you trying to keep me safe, but I don’t want to get benched. If you were in my shoes, you would be throwing a fit if Sam benched you.”
“Is this you throwing a fit?” Dean’s mouth turned up in a half smile.
“Yes, it is.”
Dean was quiet for a minute, pursing his lips as he thought. “Fine, but we stay together.”
“Got it.” You nodded.
Dean pulled up to the house. There was a shiny red sedan in the driveway and a beautiful, manicured lawn. Both of you climbed out of the car and approached the front stoop. After a couple knocks and no answer, you peeked into the window.
“There’s a body.” You reported as you eyed the bottom half of someone lying on the ground.
“Shit,” Dean hissed, moving to grab the lock kit out of his pocket. Crouching in front of the door, he utilized his tools to twist the lock and swung the door open. “Stay behind me.” He was already pulling his gun out of his waistband.
Copying his movement, you followed Dean into the room, checking the front room before maneuvering down the hallway into what ended up being the kitchen. A gory site welcomed you, a middle-aged woman with blood covering the front of her shirt. It was hard to determine whether the blood had come from her mouth or her neck.
“There’s someone else.” You pointed your gun behind the counter where another pair of legs was sticking out. Dean moved closer, grimacing when he saw the state of the other body.
“Andrew is dead.” He replied.
“So, this must be his wife.” You solemnly looked at her face, which was wide with surprise. “Why weren’t they burned, though?”
“Maybe she was getting nervous, didn’t want the attention of the media.” Dean surveyed the rest of the open living room from where he was standing. “Go grab our FBI badges while I call this in. We’ll tell them we came to question him and found them.”
Nodding, you walked back down the hallway. As you reached for the door, you heard something creak on the upper floor. Your head flew to the stairs and landing, and you swore that you saw a swath of fabric floating into a room. Slowly, you crept up the steps to inspect.
After clearing the first room, you moved around the corner to another. Just as you were opening the closet, the bedroom door slammed shut and Violet, who had been behind it, shrieked in rage. You tried to fire your gun, but she kicked it out of your hands and pushed you up against the wall, her hand closing around your throat.
“Hunter,” she whispered in your face, sneering. Clawing at her arm was doing nothing to bring air back into your lungs. “Looks like it will be three for the price of one in this inferno.”
Holding out her free hand, she threw a blast of fire into the room. It caught the curtains and created a wall of flames, smoke instantly filling the space. She loosened her grip and turned away as you slid to the floor, oxygen flooding your throat. Stepping through the wall of fire she disappeared, leaving you trapped.
“Dean!” You cried as you took in your situation. Panic overtook all logical thought as you backed into the far corner.
This was how you were going to die. And it was absolutely terrifying.
Watching the flames lick at the carpet, your hunter instincts finally kicked in, and you thought about how you could escape. The window was a no go, burning up in a cloud of black smoke. Pulling your coat off, you tried to smother a section of the fire, but it did nothing but send sparks onto your flannel.
Just as you were thinking that you were well and truly trapped, Dean called your name, and a second later the door burst open.
“Hang on!” Dean roared, holding out a fire extinguisher. He blasted at the fire wall, but there seemed to be too much heat and all it did was dim the flame. Trying a second time had the same effect.
“It’s too strong.” You called out. “Just get out of here.”
“Not without you!” He lowered his arms for a moment, looking at the scenario in front of him. “I’m gonna spray right here. You have to jump across.”
“Are you crazy?”
“It’s the only way to get you out.” His eyes were wide despite his clear instructions. “I’m gonna count down from five. Put your jacket back on.”
After waiting for you to do so, he pointed at the spot he wanted you to run through, then counted down and squeezed the handle. You squealed as you ran and launched yourself through the small window of smoke. The heat was overwhelming and as you landed a small blaze started up on your arm. Dean was on you immediately, hitting the spot with the extinguisher. He checked that it wouldn’t reignite, then tossed the extinguisher to the ground and grabbed your arm to pull you out of the room.
Freedom felt like cool, clean air. There were two cop cars outside that watched you and Dean trample down the grass lawn, coughing up the smoke you had inhaled. A siren blared in the distance. You wanted to hug Dean and thank him for saving you, but the officers were moving closer for your statement. It would have to wait.
Dean took the lead in sharing the story of how they had arrived to ask Andrew some questions and entered when they saw the body through the window. How Violet had been inside and attacked both of them before Dean shot her. He was obviously vague, at least to you, about how the fire had started. When the cop pushed him to answer, he said it must have been something Violet had set up to hide her crime.
By this point, the ambulance and fire truck were on the scene. When one of the officers walked you over to the EMTs, you noticed Sam standing behind the taped off area with a few other onlookers. You smiled to reassure him that you both were okay, and he nodded.
Dean joined you a couple minutes later, sitting close enough that your arms brushed. You were settled on the back end of the truck, a warming blanket around you and your arm exposed while a medic wrapped it in gauze. It looked worse than it felt, the small burn that danced up your arm, but you were thankful to be alive.
“You sure you don’t want this checked out further at the hospital?” The medic asked.
“I’ll follow up with my doctor tomorrow.” You lied. He shrugged and excused you, shifting his attention over to Dean. Over the shoulder of the EMT, you met Dean’s eye and gave him a small smile before you walked away.
Sam was waiting next to the Impala. You ducked under the yellow tape and stood with him, filling him in on what had really happened. The longer you stood there, the more your ankle and your arm started to throb. Dean approached and set his hand on the small of your back.
“Come on, let’s get you home.”
For now, home was the motel. You tried to convince Dean to just drive back to the bunker, but he said it was too long of a drive, and everyone needed to get rest. You didn’t argue with him. Sam, who had left with you and abandoned his car at the scene, suggested picking up food so that someone didn’t need to go back out later.
“You guys eat, I’m gonna shower.” Sam announced once all the bags were placed on the table.
Waiting for the door to shut, you watched Dean pull containers and place them out. The water started running.
“Thank you.” You said finally. “You saved my life.”
Dean let out a breath. His eyes roamed down your body like he thought you were going to disappear. “I told you, I have to protect you.”
“Why me?” Your voice felt quiet.
“Because it’s always been you.” Dean licked his lips absently. You stepped closer, smelling smoke mixed with his usual cologne. Instinctually, his hand went to your waist, but you could feel him hesitate like he wanted to take it back. Leaning in, you put your hand on his chest.
“Do you like me, Dean Winchester?” You teased gently.
Instead of answering, Dean bent down and captured your lips. It was soft and sweet, his hand coming up and cupping the side of your face. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours.
“Been wanting to do that for a long time.” Dean muttered.
“Well, I’d say we have ten more minutes before Sam comes out.” You smirked. “I think you’ve earned the chance to get in a couple more rounds.”
Could you right a dean x reader enemy’s to lovers comfort where both Dean and the reader are forced to work with each other on a hunt but they’re both scared shitless and comfort each other 🙈
Nemesis
Summary: Dean helps you hunt down whatever is killing people that look like they were scared to death.
Contents: Dean + Reader (enemy to more), swearing, grumpy banter, discussion about the following fears: car accidents, people dying, snakes, ends with fluff and comfort.
Notes: I hope you enjoy @fyodorsnumber1 thank you for requesting this!
There was a knock at your motel room. You blinked in surprise, staring at the door like it would answer itself. Finally, you got up to greet your visitor. Dean Winchester stood in the shadows, rain pattering on the pavement behind him.
You were going to murder Bobby Singer.
All you had done was mention you were on a case that was creeping you out and it would be nice to have some back-up. Did that mean you deserved to get paired up with Dean friggin’ Winchester? Bobby knew that you and Dean had never gotten along well, what could he possibly be thinking? And, to top it off, there hadn’t even been a warning that he was coming.
“You gonna let me in or make me stand here?” Dean grumbled, shifting the duffle bag on his shoulder. He was mostly under the awning, but you could tell that his back was getting soaked.
“You’re not staying here.” You blurted out, failing to filter your thoughts.
“Don’t really have a choice, there’s no other rooms available.” Dean glanced over his shoulder at the parking lot that was a lot fuller than when you had gotten here. “Unless you’re gonna make me sleep in the car.”
“I’m considering it,” you replied tersely, pushing down all the thoughts spinning through your head. “I only have an extra couch.”
“That’ll do just fine.” Dean, done with waiting, crossed the threshold and tossed his bag on said furniture.
“And what made you agree to take this case?” You closed yourself into the room and turned, crossing your arms over your chest. Dean was eyeing the notes on the table you’d been working on.
“No one else was nearby, and I owed Bobby.” He flipped one of the pages in your notebook. “Plus, couldn’t leave the damsel all by her lonesome.”
“I am not a damsel.” You ground out through your gritted teeth.
Dean finally glanced up at you. “You really that mad that I’m here helping you?”
“I would take a rock’s help over yours.” You desperately wanted to push Dean away from the table and manage this hunt yourself.
“Yeah, well, I just drove eight hours, so accept the help.” Dean pointed at something in your notes. “I think you’re wrong about this being an Oni demon.”
“Why?” You questioned.
“Everyone dying with a look of terror on their face? That’s not the Oni’s m.o. They’re associated with disasters, plus they usually consume their victims. Even though their real faces are terrifying, they don’t normally kill people with fear.”
“Well…” you tried to come up with a sarcastic retort, but you were thankful for the comment. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Dean grinned at you. “Five minutes and I’m already being helpful. You still want the rock to take my place?”
“Shut up.” You spat. This was why you never got along with Dean; he was always so smug and cocky. “Then what do you think it is?”
“Not sure, but you’ve got some solid starts here. I’ll look into if there’s some kind of demon that uses fear, you figure out what location they all have in common.”
And just like that, you were the lackey in your own case. When you had a chance to call Bobby, he was going to get an earful from you.
000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
After hours of research and no real leads, Dean decided it was time for a break and a drink. You didn’t really want to join him, but you were starving and had run out of snacks. So, you climbed into the Impala and made small talk about Sam spending the weekend with Eileen.
“This place looks like it could do the trick.” Dean said, looking down the road. He slowed and turned into the parking lot of P & D’s Bar.
“It looks expensive,” You muttered as you took in the exterior.
“Nah, it just looks new. Probably just opened.” Dean threw the car into park. “Come on.”
Inside it was bustling with customers, and like Dean had said, everything looked brand new. There wasn’t an ounce of dust to be seen. It didn’t seem like you’d be able to find anywhere to sit until Dean spotted a booth open in the very back. A waitress stopped by to welcome you and took your drink orders.
“You gonna get that stick out of your ass anytime soon?” Dean asked suddenly. He had been watching you simmer in frustration and hunger.
“I’m sorry?” You gasped.
“You’ve been on edge since I got here. What’s the deal?”
“You want the truth?” You met Dean’s eye. Dean nodded in response. “You were the last person I wanted to show up and help me.”
“We’ve established that. You prefer the rock. But why?”
“Because of that shapeshifter hunt in Wichita. I heard you telling Sam that you…” You paused as the waitress approached with your drinks. Dean ordered a burger, and you ordered a chicken sandwich. When the waitress left, Dean looked at you again expectantly. “You thought I was a naïve hunter. And then you come in here, taking over my whole investigation, like I haven’t done all the leg work.”
“But Bobby said…”
“I said I wanted back-up because there’s something eerie about this case. All of them dying of fear like that? I wanted someone who could watch my back, not boss me around.”
Dean was quiet for a minute while you sipped on your drink. You’d been harboring this anger for a long time, and now that it was out you weren’t sure what he would say. Before Dean could respond, a young attractive man stepped up to the end of your table.
“Welcome, I’m Phillip, one of the owners. How is everything so far?” He was smiling brightly, and it felt a little strange.
“It’s all fine.” Dean raised his drink. “Good whiskey,” he offered before taking a sip.
“Can’t complain,” you added.
“Great. Well, you’ve caught us at the end of our first month here at P & D’s, and we’re offering a promotion of buy one meal, get one free.” He held the coupon out to Dean, and once Dean had grabbed it Phillip covered his hand like he was thanking him. “We appreciate your business. If there are any issues, let me know.” Phillip turned and held out his hand to you, which you shook awkwardly.
“That was…” You started as Phillip turned and walked away.
“Weird.” Dean finished. He blinked slowly, like he was lost in a thought, before turning back to you. “I’m not gonna lie, I don’t remember much about that hunt in Wichita, but I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t good enough. You’ve done great with this hunt so far, and I’ll back off telling you what to do.” Dean held his hand over the table, smirking at the concept. “Partners?”
You hesitated. Dean had been bossy, but he’d also gotten you a lot farther than you had gotten yourself. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take advantage of his expertise. “Partners.” You confirmed, shaking his hand.
Dean blanched as soon as your skin touched. His lips turned to a frown and his breathing shallowed. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he shook his head like an old cartoon hero who had been hit with a boulder.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” Dean muttered, downing the rest of his alcohol. “It was nothing.”
The waitress brough your food. When she passed the plate to you, you suddenly worried about dropping it and pottery shattering and flying into your eye. You blinked, wondering why you had pictured that exact scenario when it had never happened to you even once. Shaking off the thought, you dug into your food.
Once both of you had finished (and Dean refused to let you pay for your drink), you headed back to the Impala. A text alert popped up on your phone telling you that there was police activity at the entrance to a forest preserve in town.
“We should drive by and see if it’s something related to the case.”
“Smart, to have police alerts sent to you.” Dean revved the engine and pulled out onto the highway.
At first, you were consumed with trying to see if there was any other info about the scene you were traveling towards. Once you put your phone down, you noticed that every time a car drove past you in the other lane, Dean would clench his knuckles on the steering wheel. After three in a row passed, a sports car came flying up behind you and zoomed around. Dean flinched, jerking the car to the right.
“Asshole,” you grumbled as the car raced down the road.
“Me?” Dean questioned.
“No, that guy. Although I’m surprised you didn’t hear him coming.”
“Was focused on something else.” Dean adjusted his grip on the wheel, running his other hand over his thigh.
“You alright?” You asked after a couple minutes. Dean was glancing in the rearview mirror a lot more than you’d ever notice before.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Dean swallowed, putting his eyes back on the road. “Is the turn up here?”
Baby pulled into the lot where three cop cars and an ambulance were already parked. There was yellow tape to the left of the entrance into the forest, a body lying in the middle of the squared off area. Both of you exited the car.
“Can I help you?” A female officer asked as you approached.
“Agents Styles and O’Neil.” Dean answered. “We were in the area when we heard the call over the wire. Thought it might relate to a case we’re working on.” The female raised her eyebrow, glancing at your form.
She doesn’t believe us; we’re not dressed and don’t have our badges. You fretted internally.
“You got some ID?”
“Left it with the suit at the hotel.” Dean replied. “We just got into town after being sent here from DC. If you want to talk to my supervisor, you’re more than welcome to.”
“It is protocol since you don’t have identification.”
Oh, gosh, please let Bobby pick up and settle this. You prayed while Dean pulled out his phone and searched his contacts for “headquarters”.
After handing over the phone, Dean wiped his hands on his pants and shifted his weight. You looked closely and saw beads of sweat on the back of his neck.
“Are you sweating?” You hissed.
“Shut up.” Dean muttered back.
Something wasn’t right. You had both done this at least a hundred times, and you had never felt so nervous. Dean wasn’t one to literally sweat at the idea of lying to a cop. Racking your brain, you tried to think of what had changed, but the cop was walking back towards you.
She let you look over the body and explained how the call had come in. The man’s face was frozen in terror, just like all the others. You took a few pictures on your phone when no one was looking. After a couple more questions, you thanked the cop for her time and went back to the car.
“Is it just me, or is something off?” You asked once the doors had shut.
“I was just thinking the same thing. Let’s head back to the motel.”
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
It didn’t take long once you both dug back into research to figure out what had happened. You had both accidentally become clues in your own investigation. And clearly, Phillip the owner of the bar was a god.
“Phobos,” Dean reiterated. “He has a brother, Deimos, which is probably why it’s called P & D’s.” Dean paused his scrolling. “Do you think he knew we were hunters?”
“Obviously, Dean, now focus.” You tried to read over Dean’s shoulder but you both were reading at different speeds. A word jumped out at you. “Stop! There!” You pointed to the screen.
“‘Those touched have 48 hours before their fear consumes them.’ Great.” Dean sighed, running his hand over his face.
“And it’s probably going to just get worse.” You started pacing around the room. “Ok, what are your biggest fears?”
“I-I-I don’t know!”
“Come on, Winchester, what scares you?”
“Why do you need to know that?” Dean had stopped looking at the screen and was watching you.
“Because I need to know how to help you.” You ran your hand through your hair. “Clearly, you’re afraid of a car accident or the Impala getting totaled. You were driving like a Grandpa on the way back. So maybe I should drive.”
“Nu-uh.” Dean responded immediately. “How do I know that you’re a good driver?”
You really wanted to ask if that was the fear or Dean just being himself, but you figured there wasn’t time to delve into that. “Now, I’m afraid of snakes and drowning. Does it say that we’re going to have this literally happen, or it will be a hallucination?”
“It looks like it is all in the person’s head.” Dean told you after reading through the article.
“Ok, well that helps.” You returned to Dean’s side. “Have you found anything about how to kill Phobos?”
“Gold knife dipped in the blood of the infected.” Dean sat back in his chair. “I don’t think I have a gold knife.”
“I do, don’t worry.” You clapped Dean on the shoulder before turning to rummage through your bag. When you stood up holding the item in your hand, you saw that Dean was staring into space and breathing heavily. “Dean?”
“No, no, no.” Dean whispered in a pained voice. “You can’t…”
“Dean!” You called, snapping your fingers in front of his face, but he wasn’t paying attention.
“Please, don’t die on me.” Dean whined, his voice cracking.
“Hey.” You tossed the knife onto the table and cupped Dean’s face with your hands, standing directly in front of him. “No one is dead, it’s okay, you need to snap out of it.”
After a minute, Dean’s eyes focused on you, and he raised a hand to cover yours. He blinked slowly. “You’re okay.” He breathed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
“Yes, I am.” You smiled, pushing down the shock that Dean had seen you over Sam. Telling yourself that Dean needed reassurance, you stayed put, letting Dean touch you. “Afraid of losing people?” You asked softly.
“Doesn’t surprise me.” Dean huffed, lowering his hand. You straightened. “Alright, we have the knife, let’s head back to the bar and end this. And,” he added, looking at you, “I’m driving.”
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
Waiting in the parking lot until the last customer left was not Dean’s favorite idea. He wanted to go in and get his taken care of. You reminded him that there was still time, and anyone else that got infected would be fixed once you killed Phillip. Plus, it wasn’t worth it to involve innocents.
Finally, the coast was clear, and you both snuck in through the kitchen door and out onto the main floor. Now that the bar was closed, the space seemed much bigger. Before you could conduct a surprise attack, Phillip appeared with a man identical to him from behind the bar.
“Wondered when you would be back.” Phillip said as a greeting. “I told Damien it wouldn’t take long for the hunters to realize they’d been infected.”
“You smell ripe with fear.” Damien grinned.
“Don’t let them touch you,” Dean reminded you under his breath. You nodded.
Hand-to-hand combat was a lot harder when you were trying to avoid skin contact. Mostly you tried to aim kicks so that your boots were the one getting touched. Dean and Damien wrestled together while you took on Phillip. It was a melee of grunts and groans. Just as Dean was getting the upper hand, Phillip kicked you in the face, sending you to the ground. Dean called your name as Phillip descended.
“What will make this hunter’s heart stop beating?” You were scurrying backwards, but the bar stopped your progress. Phillip crouched over you, his hand touching your cheek. “Let’s find out.”
As Philip stood up, three giant vipers slithered up behind him. You shrieked, pulling your knees up to your chest. You desperately wanted to jump up and run away, but an invisible weight was holding you down and you couldn’t move. The snakes got closer, their tongues vibrating as they took in your scent. Finally, they surrounded you, raising their heads and staring at you with their beady eyes. You thought you heard your name from a distance, but you were too absorbed in the sight of the vipers to think clearly. One of them struck, biting at your thigh, and you cried out in pain.
“Dean,” you whimpered. Why wasn’t he here helping you?
“I’m right here,” his voice echoed through your head like he was inside of you.
The second snake lashed out, attacking your face. You turned your head, shutting your eyes tight. This was it, this was how you were going to die.
“Don’t give up.” Dean’s voice spoke, sounding close and far away at the same time. “Keep fighting.”
“Keep fighting,” you repeated softly. You opened your eyes, turning back to the snakes. One of them hissed, another thumped its tail against the floor. When the next snake lunged, you braced your foot and kicked it in the face.
The image dissolved in front of you. There were no more snakes. Dean was kneeling over you, his thighs bracketing yours, and his hands were on your shoulders.
“You okay?” Dean asked when you met his eyes.
“Uh, yeah.” You looked around. Damien was on the ground and Phillip was gone. “Why didn’t you go after Phillip?”
“Had to make sure my partner was okay.” Dean ran his hand over your cheek, right where you had felt the snake bite. But instead of coming away with blood, his thumb was wet with your tears. “Come on, let’s finish this.”
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
After a stifling hot shower, you stepped out into the motel room feeling a million times better. Dean was laying on the couch, his phone held over his chest. There hadn’t been much talking after killing Phillip or on the drive home. But you wanted to show not only that you appreciated Dean but that you weren’t mad at him anymore.
“Thank you,” you announced into the quiet room. Dean looked up at you. “For, uh, helping with this hunt. I don’t know if I could have done it without you.”
Dean opened his mouth, like he was preparing a pre-loaded sarcastic comment, but something seemed to stop him. “You’re welcome.” He said simply.
“If you’re wondering, yes, you were more useful than a rock.” You smiled at him. He chuckled quietly before turning back to his phone.
You settled into bed after shutting off the lights, but no matter what you did, your brain couldn’t stop visualizing the snakes attacking you. Dean must have noticed you were tossing and turning because after about thirty minutes he spoke.
“You, uh, okay?”
“Can’t sleep,” you groaned, throwing your arm over your face. “I hate snakes.”
At first, Dean was quiet, and you thought that maybe he regretted having asked. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you and Sam on the floor as corpses.” His voice was soft but full of emotion.
“I’m sorry,” you replied automatically.
“Not your fault.”
“Why me, though?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. The couch creaked, and in the shadows you could see Dean looking at you from across the room. “I mean, Sam I get. But me?”
“Probably just because you’re here on this hunt.” Dean swallowed. “Do you, uh, want to talk about the snakes?”
“God, no.”
It was quiet again. You figured Dean had finally managed to fall asleep, which you were envious of. Your brain was spinning and it was taking all of your willpower not to think about the snakes.
“I could lay on the bed with you,” Dean said suddenly. “If you want. So you’re not alone.”
You bit your lip, thinking about the offer. It might be nice to share a bed, and it was a king after all, so it wasn’t like you were going to be touching.
“Yeah, okay.” You answered quietly.
Dean rolled off the couch and padded across the room. The bed dipped from his weight as he settled under the covers. Something about him being next to you soothed you enough that you could feel your consciousness starting to slip. Just as you were starting to fall asleep, you pictured the snake lunging at your face, and you gasped loudly.
“Shhh,” Dean hushed comfortingly, turning on his side and pulling you into his arms.
You didn’t fight him as he enveloped you. He ran his hand over the back of your head and tucked you into his chest. Without thinking, you sighed, like he was taking a weight off your chest. Dean’s hand moved up and down your spine, but it was the rhythmic beat of his heart that finally lulled you to sleep. You wouldn’t admit it for a long time, but you slept better than you had in months.
Summary: Even in the midst of hardship, relationships can still grow and change
Content: Jack Kline x reader, set during 14x7, a little angst, fluff, soft smut (pre-coital)
Request by @sammywinchesterxo: i was just thinking like it being jack first time and he knew a lot more then you thought and after yall are done you asked how he knew some of the stuff and he said because of dean and you can do whatever writing type you want
Author Notes: My first time writing for Jack, and my first attempt in a while at describing what leads up to sex, so I hope its okay because smut isn't my forte. It got a little longer than i expected cuz I gotta have my plot, and I thought of some cute Jack moments. Enjoy!
“…an angel will be immune to the regular oddities of the world around them.”
Your brain barely processes the words on the page in front of you while also trying to come to terms with the situation at hand: Jack is dying. You hear Rowena sighing as she flicks through the Book of the Damned for the second time. Sam shuffles near the bookshelf, keeping an eye on his phone in case Cas calls about his meeting with the shaman, Sergei. Cas has warned you that he’d already checked this book, but you are determined to find something he might have missed.
The knot that has been building within your stomach twists. Jack is special to you; what exactly you are to him, you aren’t sure. You have found yourself wanting to wait for the room to empty so you can sit quietly with him, ask about his day, maybe even say something that will pull that grin from his face. You have been there almost since the beginning, so you know how kind and sensitive Jack is, the opposite of what was expected of Lucifer’s son.
Above your head the door to the bunker creaks. Dean and Jack parade down the stairs, their footsteps a little lighter than when they left.
“I drove a car!” Jack announces as way of a greeting. His face is bright with pride.
“You-” Sam looks between his brother and Jack in disbelief. “You drove the Impala?”
“Hey, it was high time the kid learned.” Dean answers, pulling off his coat. “He’s family.”
You share an incredulous look with Sam. Rowena simply rolls her eyes, hardly looking up from what she is reading. Sensing that there is more to be said, you turn back to your book and hope that you can lose yourself in it. Before you get too far, you feel a presence next to you.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Jack asks quietly, leaning over your shoulder. You suspect that Rowena might have heard him, but you nod anyway and let him lead you down the hallway to his room.
“What’s up?” You try not to feel nervous as Jack closes the door behind him. He turns and looks at you in that way that is so Jack, so thoughtful and so naïve all at the same time.
“I like you,” he says simply.
You feel heat rush to your cheeks. You knew that Jack wasn’t one to beat around the bush when it came to his words, but you hadn’t been expecting that.
“Jack,” You chuckle, unsure of what to say.
“I think we should have sex.”
Your jaw goes slack. Jack watches you carefully, his eyebrows starting to come together as the silence draws out longer.
“Wait, hold on. Jack, you don’t just say that to someone!”
“Why? Dean says that women like it when guys are up front.”
“Dean.” You rub your hand over your forehead. “Oh boy. Ok.”
“Am I doing this wrong?” Jack quizzically scrunches his nose. You huff out a laugh and step closer to him, taking his hand. Jack looks down at it momentarily before returning his eyes to you.
“Yes and no.” You smile, trying to reassure him. “I really like you too. I think we have something special, Jack. I like talking to you, and I’m so worried about you dying. But I don’t want to do this just because we don’t know how to fix you.” You squeeze his hand. “The key to asking a girl out is a little bit of romance.”
“That isn’t what Dean…”
“I’m sure that’s not what Dean said,” you force out through gritted teeth. You mentally make a note to give the older Winchester a piece of your mind later. “But take it from a girl, blunt is not always appealing.”
“So, you don’t want to have sex?” Jack cocks his head. If he wasn’t honestly asking, you would have busted out laughing at his imitation of a dog. With a smile you lean in, pressing a kiss softly on Jack’s lips.
“I never said that.” You whisper.
Jack cracks a grin. The door flies open before anything more can happen. Sam looks between the two of you, momentary shock flittering across his face, but it passes quickly.
“Cas is back from the shaman. He thinks he has something to fix Jack.”
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
After five chaotic days, things seem to have settled back into a sense of normalcy. You had been utterly floored when the solution from this “expert” shaman had been unsuccessful. Sam actually had to hold you back when Rowena told everyone all that was left to do was make Jack comfortable. And then the next day you’d had to sit there and watch Jack die, his hand going limp within yours.
You lift the beer bottle to your lips, taking a page out of the Winchester playbook and using it to help process your emotions. Sure, you are relieved that Jack is relatively ok. There’s the whole thing with him burning out his soul, but you don’t want to unpack that just yet. You also feel like Jack has been avoiding you and you can’t stop from taking that a little personally.
Deciding that a third beer is just going to give you a bad hangover, you toss your finished one and make your way back to your room. Sitting atop of your bed is a single rose with a note and an old-fashioned key. You recognize it as one for the bedrooms in the bunker dormitory, having been given one yourself. The number 15 etched into the top. You glance at the letter.
Come find me.
Arching your eyebrow at the cryptic message, you wonder who this is from. But your curiosity is piqued, and you know that room 15 is not one that anyone currently occupies. With a smile, you turn on your heel and make your way to find out what is going on.
The key unlocks room 15, and inside you are met with at least thirty candles flickering in the dark. Soft piano music is playing in the background. Jack stands in the middle of the room, looking handsome in a nice button-down shirt. He smiles at you when you meet his eyes.
“What is this?” You ask, even though your body is a mixture of happiness and anticipation.
“You said you wanted romance.” Jack answered simply. For a moment you become aware of the fact that you’re in leggings and a sweatshirt, your hair haphazardly swept up in a ponytail.
“Forewarning might have been nice too,” You mumble to yourself, looking down and swiping at some crumbs. “I’m not dressed for this.”
“I think you look great.” Jack grins, and a warmth begins to spread through you. You step closer to him and run a hand through his hair.
“You really want to do this?” You whisper quietly. Jack brings his hand up to your waist and nods. His adam’s apple bobs as he leans in, pressing his lips to yours.
Now that you aren’t overwhelmed with the thought of him dying, you take the time to notice the feel of his lips. They’re softer than you expected. His next kiss he presses into you more, his hand on your waist tightening, and you respond immediately by opening your mouth wider to him. Soon his tongue is gently swirling with yours and you feel your core begin to dampen.
You hesitantly wonder what experience Jack has in this department considering he’s spent all of his time with hunters. But he soon proves you wrong as his hand slips under your waistband and caresses the front of your panties. Your hips twitch, craving more contact, and then in one fluid motion he pushes his finger into you. You gasp into his mouth.
“Does that feel okay?” Jack asks, pulling back so he can look at you.
You nod quickly, clenching down on his finger and grinding your hips against his hand. Jack inserts a second finger and begins stretching you. You press your lips against Jack’s neck, nibbling at the skin under his jaw while you try to hold back the moan at the base of your throat. When Jack pushes in farther, finding a sensitive spot, it erupts from your mouth louder than you intended.
“I like when you make that sound,” Jack tells you as his fingers continue their ministrations.
When Jack hits that spot again, you press your mouth against his ear and moan softly. You feel Jack harden against your leg. Feeling the springs of the coil starting to tighten, you place your hands on either side of Jack’s face and press a firm kiss on his lips. When you pull away you look him full on in the eyes.
“I’m ready when you are.”
At first, Jack just stares at you. You begin to undo the buttons of his shirt and take a half step forward, trying to push him back towards the bed. This seems to engage Jack in your intentions, and he swiftly removes his hand and pushes down at the edge of your leggings. You both quickly remove the rest of your clothing, leaving it in a heap on the floor, and then you crawl onto the bed first. Jack comes around to the end table, where a silver wrapper is sitting and waiting. Once the condom is applied, Jack lays down next to you. You lean in close, kissing him again softly, and smile.
Your first time with Jack isn’t a fireworks explosion, but it’s safety and warmth. Jack constantly checks in to make sure you’re okay. You even teach him a couple things that are your turn ons, which he picks up rather quickly. And when Jack rolls off you, his face tired and blissful, you know that yours looks the same way.
You wrap your arms around Jack’s waist as you come down from your high, letting your breathing even out. Jack wipes a piece of hair away from your face. He suddenly begins to chuckle to himself.
“That was fun,” He says out loud.
“Yes, it was,” You look up at him and smile. Jack’s eyes are roaming over your body, taking everything in. The question sits in your mind for another moment before you finally can’t bear not knowing the answer. “I gotta ask, did you instinctually know what to do? Like did your human side take over?”
“I think so. At some point I felt like my body knew what it was doing. I also asked Dean last week what sex was like. He gave me the rundown.”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Up Front.” You sigh. You were still annoyed, but you also weren’t about to go thanking Dean for teaching Jack how to have sex.
“He was really helpful. He told me that girls need to be…”
“No!” You holler, throwing your hand out into the air. “Don’t finish that sentence. I don’t need to know what he told you.” You glance up at Jack. “I’m quite content with what just happened. And I’m sure it will only get better.”
“So, we can do it again?” Jack asks eagerly.
“Well, I hope you’re not gonna “one and done” me,” you retort, your eyes crinkling together. Jack stares at you wistfully and you bite back a laugh, getting the hint. “Give me twenty minutes, and we can start round two.”
Summary: request by @saltnburnbaby, Your parents are fighting and Sam does what he does best.
Content: teen!Sam x teen!female reader, mentions of fighting (nothing specific but slightly descriptive), Sam being protective and supportive, talk about college.
Note: I think this is my first teen ficlet. I hope this is okay and what you were looking for!
They always talk about the explosions of a fight. Dishes cracking, doors slamming, voices screaming, even on rare occasions the smack of skin against skin. But hardly anyone talks about what leads up to it. If you’re lucky, you can see it coming. But sometimes, it’s as quiet as a breath.
That’s how it starts tonight. You hadn’t noticed the furrowed glances behind the others’ back, or the sighs of frustration that dissipate into the air. It seemed like a decent night. Then, one comment gets launched past you at the dinner table, and you realize that the fuse has been lit. A bomb is about to go off.
Hurriedly, you part from your mostly eaten dinner as their voices grow louder. You hear your name intermixed in their shouts, trying to use you as leverage. Stuffing a blanket against the bottom of the door barely does anything to quell the noise. Just as you start to think about how you can sneak outside, your phone rings.
“Hello?”
“So, I’m thinking that I might be able to convince Dean to let me take the car tonight.” Sam breezes right past a greeting, his voice warm with excitement.
“Huh?” Your mind is still following the argument downstairs, despite telling yourself to stop.
“Take the car. Come see you.” Sam pauses when you don’t respond. “Are you listening?”
“Yeah, I am. I just…it’s not a good night, Sam.”
As if he didn’t already know what that meant, there was a loud bang from downstairs. Maybe someone had slammed their hand into the table. Or, more likely, someone had gone into the bathroom and closed the door too hard.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Sam tries to keep his voice neutral. There’s shuffling in the speaker.
“It started so fast, I just got upstairs.” Your chest tightens as a shriek of anger resonates through the silence. Tears creep into the corner of your eyes. “This sounds like a bad one, Sam.” Your voice is small and weak.
“Don’t listen to them.” Sam orders. “Tell me something you’ve never told me before.”
You laugh quietly as you curl into a ball on top of your comforter. It may have only been eight months since you’ve known Sam, but you’ve probably told him everything there is to tell. Between talking every night and spending passing periods together at school, there hasn’t been a conversation topic left untouched.
“I’m thinking about something different for a college major.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and bring your knees tighter to your chest. “I might want to be a therapist.” Your words are met with silence. Biting your lip, you wait a second. “Sam?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” His voice crashes through the speaker, heavy and rushed. “I think you would be good at that. Do you have an idea where you want to go?”
“I’ll go anywhere that will take me at this point.” You sigh.
“Just one more year and then we’ll graduate.” Sam tells you like you weren’t already counting down the days. “I started looking into Stanford, because they have a great law program, and because Dad never goes to California.”
“Well, maybe I’ll start doing some research there too. See if they have a good counseling program.” You feel Sam still on the phone like you knew he would.
“I thought we weren’t gonna do the same school thing.” Because you had in fact told Sam just last week that you didn’t want to be one of those couples.
“Maybe I’m thinking differently now.” You smile into the phone.
“You’re cute when you smile, did you know that?”
Now it’s your turn to freeze. After replaying what he had just said, you look up and see Sam’s face in your window grinning at you.
“How did you get up here?!” You gasp, trying to keep your voice down.
“I might’ve shimmied up the gutter.” Sam’s foot slips slightly against the shingles. You’re not sure how he’s standing on such a steep slant. “You gonna let me in?”
Hanging up the phone, you cross the room and slide open the window. You hold out a hand for Sam to anchor himself on, but he seems scarily at ease crawling into your room. Despite your shock, you throw your arms around Sam’s torso and squeeze him tightly. Another thump echoes in the quiet.
“I can’t believe you came.” You mutter against Sam’s shirt.
“I was already down the street; I wanted to surprise you.” Sam’s hand runs up and down your back soothingly. When the yelling starts up again, he feels you tense up and tucks you under his chin. “I’m glad I was nearby so that I can be here for you.”
“Sam,” You lean back, looking up at him. “You can’t stay. If they find you up here, I’m gonna be in so much trouble.”
“I’m not leaving you alone.” Sam says icily, clenching his jaw.
You swallow. A tear wells in the corner of your eye that Sam brushes away with his thumb. As much as you want to argue, it already feels safer up here with Sam next to you. Slowly you nod, and go up on your toes to press a kiss against Sam’s lips. Sitting on the floor with Sam’s arm around your waist, you turn on your TV and let everything downstairs fade into the background.
Hi first of all I wanted to say that I love your work. I was wondering if you could write a fic where y/n is dean's daughter and she also has a brother and during a hunt where everyone is at Ellen's bar (bobby , Elle, cas , dean ,Sam and anyone else you want) as well as other hunters and the two come in and someone calls them Winchesters and that's when Dean finds out they're his children and it could be family fluff and all thank you <33
Hiii I know I’m new here but I love your work and was hoping I could request a some what long fic? Not a series but not a blurb. Idk what to call it lol sorry I’m on and off tumblr.
Anyway I was wondering if you could write something along the lines of a fem reader who is kinda on and off with Dean. Like one min he’s all up on you and the next he’s cold asf. Like realllll angsty but happy ending like they fully get together or something. (Like they live in the bunker)