#dean oneshot

[atwistoffate]

You're the one that I want

Dean x Reader Summary: Dean flirts with everyone… except you. Suddenly, the guy who’s usually so smooth can’t seem to string two words together, and Sam has to step in to keep things from getting completely out of hand. Genre: Fluff ♡ Word Count: 3.1K

Sam should really get out of the bunker more, maybe get an actual hobby that isn’t research or running laps before breakfast. Most importantly, he should probably spend less time around you and his brother before his last functioning brain cells decide to mutiny.

He’s blending a pile of vegetables in the kitchen when Dean walks in and… just stands there. Staring.

Sam can feel it, Dean’s gaze boring into the side of his head. He keeps blending. If he ignores it, maybe, just maybe, his brother will go away.

He does not.

There’s only so much liquefying you can do to a zucchini, so eventually Sam gives up and turns around. “What?”

Dean doesn’t miss a beat. “Do I look approachable to you?”

There it is.

Sam exhales through his nose. “What are you talking about?”

Dean isn’t even looking at him; his eyes are fixed somewhere over Sam’s shoulder. “I mean, I think I am. I guess. But maybe I’m not. Maybe I look… I dunno… standoffish.”

Sam blinks. “Standoffish.”

“I’m just saying, there’s a line, okay? Too friendly, and you look like some creepy guy offering free candy. Not friendly enough, and people think you’re gonna stab ‘em.”

Sam shuts off the blender, grabs his smoothie, and sits. Dean drops into the chair across from him, and he stares expectantly, eyebrows up.

“Dean, man... I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, if you were a girl and saw me at a bar—”

“Great. Can’t imagine a better start,” Sam mutters.

“—would you think I was approachable? Like… someone you’d walk up to?”

Sam looks down into his glass, searching for the strength to keep going. Nothing. No strength. Just spinach.

“Dean… where is this coming from?” 

Dean Winchester, the man who has picked up so many women he's lost count. And yet here he is, acting like he needs a pep talk.

Finally, Sam sighs, giving his brother at least the courtesy of an honest answer. “You’re approachable. You’re… you. People like you.”

Dean’s expression doesn’t ease at the reassurance. If anything, he looks more frustrated, brow furrowed, mouth in a pout that he’d absolutely deny making. “Then what the hell was she talking about?”

“…What? Who?”

Sam’s eyes widen. Oh. Oh.

You.

He lets out a long, exhausted sigh. Shakes his head. “Dean… dude. Just talk to her.”

“I talk to her,” his brother insists.

“Uh-huh. And that’s why you’re in here interrogating me about your ‘approachability,’ right?” Sam deadpans, leaning back with the weary authority of a brother who has lived through this many, many times.

“Whatever,” Dean grumbles, immediately hating where this is going. He pushes up from the table and heads for the coffee machine, chewing on his bottom lip like he’s trying to think a hole through it.

Two minutes later, you step into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge like you always do. And Sam sees it. God, he sees all of it. Front-row seats.

Dean cuts a glance at you from the corner of his eye, stands a little straighter, then his hand shoots up to flatten his hair. Sam just shakes his head. He swears he’s going to start avoiding the kitchen entirely when the two of you are in here together.

“Would you hand me a spoon, handsome?” you ask, completely unaware of what you just triggered.

Sam watches Dean freeze at the pet name. 

“Spoon. Yeah. We, uh… we have spoons,” he stammers, somehow producing one like it’s a rare artifact. He hands it to you with the confidence of a Victorian maiden having her first conversation with a man.

Then he retreats to the safety of the coffee machine.

Yogurt and spoon in hand, you head out of the kitchen. Dean’s eyes track you the whole way, drawn like a magnet. The instant you disappear down the hall, something in him lights up.

The man beams.

“Handsome,” he says to the empty air, chest puffing up. “She thinks I’m handsome.”

Then he spins on his heel and strides out of the kitchen, riding the high.

Sam shakes his head, muttering, “Unbelievable.”

Two seconds later, Dean reappears, deflating the dramatic exit. “Forgot my coffee,” he says, grabbing the mug with forced nonchalance. He doesn’t make eye contact.

Sam just snorts. 

—

It’s been around two hours when you spot Sam in the library, typing away on his computer.

You sit down across from him and wait.

When his eyes finally lift from the screen, one eyebrow raised, you say, “Can I run something by you real quick?”

“Sure,” he replies, tone calm. “What’s up?”

You hesitate. Usually, maybe you wouldn’t even ask. But it’s Sam, and you trust him. “How would you… rate me, on a scale from one to ten?”

“What?”

“Like, hypothetically… let’s say you walk into a bar and I’m sitting there. What’s your first impression of me?”

Sam, who doesn’t even like bars, has already been dragged into two bar hypotheticals today, and it’s barely ten in the morning. He resists the urge to sigh. “Just… talk to Dean,” he says. “Trust me.”

“How did you know I—”

“Really good intuition,” he interrupts.

You stare down at the table, lips pouting. “It’s just… He flirts with everyone, literally everyone – even the old lady at the market. He just… never flirts with me. So I try to be casual. But this morning... it sort of got out before I could stop myself, and I called him handsome. And he, uh – I don’t think he liked that.”

Sam lets out a quiet snort. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” he mutters quickly, eyes darting back to the computer. “Just… maybe ask him to grab a coffee sometime. Keep it casual. Start small, you know?"

You hum thoughtfully, weighing the advice. “Yeah… maybe I could do that.”

Sam smiles faintly, satisfied, and goes back to typing. He can survive this, probably. 

—

Dean is sweet.

Okay, maybe he doesn’t flirt with you. Not the way he does with everyone else.

But if you’re being even a little logical, you know he cares. A lot.

He worries about you no matter what you’re dealing with: hunt injuries, a headache, a papercut, a sneeze. One fragile little “achoo” and he’s glancing over all concerned. 

And he pays attention.

You mention things offhand like your favorite snacks, a brand of tea you like, or that one candle scent you can never find... and the next time he comes back from the store, they’re sitting on the table like they magically appeared.

He never says it was him.

Probably thinks it’s nothing.

But it isn’t nothing. Not to you.

And sure, old Joanne at the market gets called “sweetheart,” and you don’t. But Dean has never bought her chocolate before.

…Wait. Has he?

Doesn’t matter.

Because the point is: you’re going to follow Sam’s advice and ask him out for coffee.

Even if he doesn’t like you back, Dean is sweet, and he deserves good coffee.

And you’re brave enough to offer it.

With this thought in mind, you walk into the kitchen the next morning.

Sam is already blending something green. You hover in the doorway until he finally shows mercy and switches it off because you really don’t want the sound of zucchini being pulverized to mark the beginning of whatever is about to happen.

Only then do you cross the room and sit down right across from Dean, who still hasn’t noticed you’re there.

He’s cradling his coffee, eyelids heavy, hair sticking up in five different directions. But the moment you enter his line of sight, he nearly jumps. His back goes straight, and he immediately smooths a hand over his hair, one stubborn piece still popping right back up.

God, he’s adorable.

“Mornin’,” he says softly, still half-asleep, voice rough like gravel, and your brain just… fries. Completely. 

Not a thought up there for a good minute.

You had a speech planned, had summoned enough courage for it, and now there's just… nothing. 

Soon enough, Dean’s hands are on the table, pushing him to his feet. “All right, I’mma—head to the store,” he says, nodding vaguely toward the door.

Sure. Go flirt with Joanne, you think. Bet she likes that a lot. 

But then he turns those big, hopeful eyes on you. “Wanna come?”

“What?" 

“Yesterday,” he adds quickly, “you said you wanted to go…”

Your chest melts a little. You only said that to Sam, and Dean… still paid attention.

You manage to smile. “Yeah. I’ll come.”

Dean smiles back before he tries to cover it up with a half-suppressed nod. “Cool. Yeah. Uh—let’s go then.”

He nearly walks into the doorframe on the way out.

—

“Joanne, looking incredible this morning,” Dean practically whistles at the older lady at the counter the second you step through the door.

“Right back at you, gorgeous,” she beams.

Of course she’s beaming. You’d beam too if he said you looked incredible.

Then she leans in conspiratorially, glancing around like she’s sharing state secrets. “Placed an order for that pie you like. Should be here tomorrow.”

Dean grins. “Sweetheart, you sure you wanna keep your husband? Competition’s fierce… just sayin’.”

You glare at the mismatched floor tiles and make your way toward the fridge aisle, while Joanne giggles behind the counter. Again, who can blame her? 

Then they start talking in hushed tones, leaning in toward each other. You’re pretty sure they’re talking about you because of the way she keeps sneaking glances your way. You strain to hear while pretending to examine the products, but you’re too far away to catch a word. By the time you edge closer, the conversation cuts off, and Dean doesn’t even glance in your direction.

When you finally reach the till, Joanne leans in and whispers, “Darling, you gotta snatch that before it’s too late.”

She nods toward Dean, who’s hovering near the snack aisle. “I mean, look at him,” she adds, shaking her head with exaggerated approval. Your eyes follow hers, taking in everything from head to toe. “Seriously. If he looked at me the way he looks at you, I wouldn’t just stand there doing nothing.”

“The way he looks at me?” you echo, because apparently that’s the only sentence your brain can manage.

Joanne stares at you. “Sweetheart… are your eyes just for decoration?”

“What?" 

Before she can say anything else, Dean returns with a bag of chips and puts it down gently on the conveyor belt. “Got the ones you like,” he murmurs, not quite meeting your eyes.

Aww, he's so cute. 

You glance at Dean.

Then at the chips.

Then back at Joanne, who lifts her eyebrows in a ‘see what I mean?’ kind of way.

Okay.

Yeah.

You do have to snatch that before it’s too late.

—

The way he looks at you.

You’ve been chewing on that the whole ride back, trying to decode what the hell Joanne meant.

Sure, Dean glances at you, checks if you’re okay, keeps track of you the way he keeps track of Sam, Cas, his car, everything he cares about. That’s just… Dean. Nothing special about it.

Right?

“What were you and Joanne talkin’ about?” he asks suddenly, low and careful. His eyes flick over to you, then right back to the road. “What’d she say?”

He sounds almost… worried. 

“Uh, nothing,” you lie, light as possible. “She might have a crush on you, though.”

That gets a small smile out of him, soft and relieved. Then he glances again. “That's all she said?”

“Why?”

He shrugs one shoulder, eyes fixed ahead. “Just… wonderin’.”

You do not bring up her actual comments, because dying from embarrassment in this car is not on your bucket list. “What about you?” you ask, as casual as possible. “What were you two whispering about?”

“Uh… she, uh… has this niece she wanted me to meet.”

“Oh.” It falls out of you flat and tiny.

“Yeah,” he adds, rubbing the back of his neck. “She thought I might be interested.”

“Really?”

“I’m not,” he says immediately, too immediately. “Interested, I mean. But Joanne kinda figured that out right away,” Dean finishes. “So it’s all good.”

The old lady wasn’t joking. Someone less insecure is going to snatch him up one of these days, and you’re going to regret all this waiting around doing nothing.

But the question is, how are you supposed to live in the bunker with him if you go all in on your feelings and he doesn’t feel the same? That’s just a recipe for disaster.

But then again… The way he looks at you. 

You make it your personal project to figure out just what the hell that means. 

Truthfully, it doesn't even take long to gather hints, one after the other. 

He does look at you, more than you’d realized. Not the teasing, smirking kind of glance he gives literally everyone else. Not even the playful, flirty looks. No, this is different. His eyes linger, soft, careful, like he’s making sure you’re okay, or memorizing something only he can see.

And maybe you’re reading too much into it. Maybe. But every time he flusters when you tease him, or he scratches the back of his neck when you hand him a simple compliment, your brain takes notes. You start keeping a mental tally, just to make sure you’re not imagining things.

You’re also pretty sure you’ve seen him blush around you a couple of times. Enough to make your heart skip.

Dean Winchester, master of casual charm and reckless confidence, gets… flustered. Around you. And it’s the smallest, most perfect kind of proof.

After weeks of quietly gathering evidence and comparing notes with Sam, Cas, and even Jack, your case feels airtight. And with it comes a little surge of courage.

And then, out of nowhere, you stumble onto the final piece.

The big one.

You weren’t even supposed to be in the bunker.

You were meant to be at Charlie’s for the weekend: movies, junk food, girl talk, a detox from the job, and the crises that come with it. But she comes down with a brutal flu and refuses to get you sick, so the whole plan gets pushed back.

You were going to text the boys and let them know you were still home, but you never got the chance. 

Because the second the front door slams, you hear Dean’s voice echo down the metal stairs: “That’s just stupid,” he grumbles. “I’m not doin’ that. I don’t even know if she likes me.”

You freeze mid-step.

Sam’s answer comes fast, like he’s run out of patience for the year. “Dean. Be serious. Are your eyes just for decoration?”

Sam and Joanne could be good friends, you think. They’re both full-time members of the Dean Appreciation Squad anyway.

Dean huffs loudly. “She lives here, Sam. What if you’re wrong? I don’t wanna make her uncomfortable.” His voice dips, softer, almost guilty. “God knows I probably already do.”

Your heart drops.

He actually thinks he might be making you uncomfortable.

Dean Winchester.

A man who apologizes when you bump into him.

A man who brings you your favorite snacks without a word.

A man who looks at you with care and devotion.

He thinks any of that is unwelcome.

You press back against the wall, breath catching in your throat, because the truth finally lands and it's undeniable. 

He likes you.

Really likes you.

And he’s holding himself back because he’s afraid his feelings might somehow upset you.

...Well.

You’re going to have to show him exactly how wrong he is.

—

You stroll into the garage one slow morning, no hunts, no plans – just a little time to make yourself feel… well, you. No flannel. No worn-out boots. Today, something that hugs your curves just right, a touch of makeup to bring out your best features. You even had time to make your hair cooperate.

Dean’s under the car, elbow-deep in something greasy, when you lean against the wall, arms crossed casually.

“Whatcha doin’, handsome?” you murmur, voice soft but teasing.

Metal clangs to the floor. “Son of a—” He scrambles out from under the car, rag in hand, eyes widening as they travel up and down you, and he almost freezes. “You… uh… you going out?”

“That depends,” you say, tilting your head. “Are you busy?”

“Huh? Me?” Dean stammers. “Why? You… you need a ride somewhere?”

"No, not really. Wanted to take you out.”

For a moment, he just blinks. The words don’t seem to register. “Take me out?”

“A date,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, though inside you’re practically combusting. 

“A date,” he repeats slowly. “You… and me?”

“Yeah. If you want to.”

A faint blush spreads across his cheeks, just enough to reveal his heart. "For real?"

"Yeah," you nod. "Do you want to?"

“God, yes,” he says, voice almost too fast. “I… uh… I’mma go change, real quick.”

Before you can even react, he’s already rushing to the garage door, as if he hesitates another second, you might change your mind. He pauses, hand on the handle, then spins back with a quick glance. “I don’t think I mentioned it, but you look... amazing. Just…” He shoots you an approving look, the kind that makes your chest tighten, before finally ducking out. 

—

Sam should really get out of the bunker more, maybe get an actual hobby that isn’t research or running laps before breakfast. Most importantly, he should probably spend less time around you and his brother before his last functioning brain cells decide to mutiny.

Actually… scratch that.

It might already be too late.

He did start looking at local classes: pottery, pilates, and even a book club. But he never registered for any of them. And now? Now he deeply regrets it.

Because the poor man walks into the kitchen, thinking only about making a smoothie, and instead walks into—

Yeah.

That.

There you are.

There Dean is.

And you’re kissing him like you’re both about to start something Sam definitely doesn’t want to picture.

Right in front of the blender.

And - oh no - your fingers slip beneath the waistband of Dean’s jeans, and his breath itches. And then he's all like, “Oh baby, if you keep this up, I’m gonna put you right on this counter and—”

Sam slams his ears shut and salutes the blender for its bravery. Then he bolts from the room, muttering something about bleach and possibly moving to another state.

The next day, the blender is quietly relocated to the war room, where it can recover from trauma in peace, and Sam doesn't venture back into the kitchen for at least two weeks. 

And you… Well, you’ll owe Sam a proper thank-you someday... Once he can glance at the two of you without immediately questioning every decision that has brought him here.

And, yeah… maybe a new blender wouldn’t hurt.

---

Forever Tags: @gallifreyansass @hobby27 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @adoptdontshoppets @foxyjwls007 @hotgirlsshareaccounts @katiejade

[stargazedwinchester]

so sorry to bother you if you aren’t able to do this req but this is more of a thought I had

dean winchester x reader but he’s like the ultimate yearner, I’m talking about hotel california type of yearning. reader isn’t exactly a hunter but she does investigate paranormal activity.

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `hotel california, dean winchester ༘♡

summary: you catch dean staring. again. playful banter ensues, and you can't help but feel something toward him. word count: 709 pairing: dean winchester x reader

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

The motel room remains quiet except for the sound of rustling paper and the faint hum of the overhead light.

Your bed is covered in newspaper clippings and photocopies, a whole city of notes spread out in a careful chaos. Dean stands there longer than he should, leaning on the doorframe like he just happened to stop by, but the truth is that he’s been watching you for five minutes already.

You’re in your own world; pen in hand, eyes darting between articles and your lips move soundlessly as you piece together a theory. You look as if you belong here, wrapped up in words and patterns, chasing something most people would never bother to see.

Dean clears his throat, just to break the spell before he embarrasses himself.

“Looks like you’re either hunting a ghost, or auditioning for the role of Conspiracy Nut Weekly.”

“Funny,” you huff a small laugh, “and yet you think I haven’t noticed you hovering near me when I’m balls-deep in research.

His smirk sticks to his face. “Hover? No, sweetheart, I don’t hover. I observe.” He crosses the room before you can argue, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. You go back to highlighing a section of text. Dean pretends he’s reading along, but he’s really just memorising the shape of your handwriting.

The way your fingers grip the pen. How you circle the pen when you’re trying to think of what to write next.

“So,” he says after a moment of silence, “you always dive this deep? Or am I just catching you on a good day?”

“This is a good day,” you admit without looking up. “Sometimes the trail runs cold. But this one?” You tap the page with your finger, excitement bleeding into your voice. “This is a pattern. See? The deaths line up perfectly with these dates here. I think something bigger’s happening that everyone else has overlooked.”

Dean feels it like a punch in the chest—the way you light up when you talk about it, because you’re not burned out like him. There’s still hope in your voice, belief in what you’re doing. And for some reason, it makes him want to protect it. Protect you.

He swallows hard. “You ever think about leaving it to the professionals?”

You arch a brow, finally meeting his eyes. “Like you?”

“Yeah. Like me.” He shrugs, trying for cocky, but it comes out a little softer than he meant. “You keep digging into this stuff, you’re bound to attract trouble.”

You tilt your head, studying him. It’s subtle, but he feels it. The way your gaze lingers, like maybe you’re trying to read him as carefully as you read your notes. “Maybe I already did,” you murmur.

The air goes thick between you. Dean forces a laugh, breaking eye contact, rubbing the back of his neck like he can shrug off the heat crawling up it. “Guess that’s one way to put it.”

You let it go mercifully, and return to your papers. But when you reach across the bed for another folder, your knee brushes his. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t breathe.

You don’t either. For a heartbeat, you’re both frozen there, knees touching in the middle of all your scattered evidence.

There’s a part of him that wants to close the distance. To sit shoulder to shoulder with you on that messy bed and let his hand brush yours, let himself sink into the warmth you don’t even know you radiate. But Dean Winchester doesn’t get to have soft things. He doesn’t get to want. So he forces himself to stand back, watching, yearning, burning quietly in the corner of your light.

Dean finally stands, retreating a step like it costs him everything. “Don’t stay up too late,” he mutters, voice rough. “Gotta keep your strength up if you’re gonna keep playing Nancy Drew.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” you whisper. There’s something in your tone, something knowing, that makes his stomach flip.

He leaves before he can make a fool of himself, but later, lying awake in his own room, Dean swears he can still feel the ghost of your knee against his. And it keeps him up longer than any nightmare ever could.

[furiousdinosaurdestiny]

Title: Weird Girls Are Fun Dates

A/N: Just a fluff one shot

It was another slow day at the dive motel. Their weren’t many in town since over the years it’s been a off the map vacation spot to get away from life. The springs and the hiking spots really sold it for those getting away from the hustle and bustle of city life.

The owners were a adorable couple who didn’t need much out of life and lived off a steady income that was the motel. I took this job in high school all those years ago for some extra cash and never left. I was thankful they took a chance on the weird kid in high school. While working there over the years I took some business classes online after high school, so I could do the books for the owners at the motel and get a raise in the process.

I was going over the numbers making sure everything was correct before sending it to the owners to go over. They preferred to double check the work. Which use to drive the older book keeper bonkers while it never really bugged me. They were a little quirky but they were really great people to work for. I didn’t have many friends but I would listen to the few I had complain about their bosses and counted my blessings.

Hitting the send button on the computer the bell above the door rung announcing a customer. I look up seeing possibly the hottest guy ever in my entire life. He grinned seeing me behind the counter. “Welcome to the motel Last Resort. How may I help you?”

When he smile I got butterflies in my stomach unable to pull my gaze away from his greenish/hazel eyes. “For starters a name to the beauty before me.”

I felt my face flush. “Y/N.”

“Well Y/N I’m Dean and I need your finest room.”

Clicking away on the computer. “I don’t know about finest. We are one of the few cheaper places here.”

“I doubt any of them have someone as beautiful as you.”

I couldn’t hide my smile. I’m so use to being hit on by creepy older men with a beer gut that looks like they are stashing a bowling ball under their shirt. While they have a bad three strand combover and smelling of cigarettes and stale beer. The fact that someone who looked like him was hitting on me made my month.

Grabbing one of the keys hanging on the wall behind me I placed it on the counter. “Ok, you have the room at the very end. It’s not one of the finest rooms that’s around here. But it has a view of the mountains that is amazing to look at. If that’s your thing.”

“It takes second to your beauty.”

“I bet you say that to all the ladies.”

Picking up the keys off the counter. “Only to the pretty ones.” I watched him walk away knowing I was never going to see someone that fine in my life ever again.

It had been dark for a few hours before the night manager Matthew showed up. I let him know what rooms were occupied at the moment and caught up with him on how he was doing before leaving.

I was at my car about to climb in when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Letting out a scream I swung my hand feeling it connect seconds before realizing it was the hottie from earlier. “Shit! I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”

Rubbing his chin. “You surprisingly have a nice right hook.” He smiled.

“Thanks, I guess.” Seeing that he was ok. “Why are you out here? Do you need some more towels or something? I can get you some before going home.”

Shaking his head. “I was actually coming to see you.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I skeptically looked at him. “You were? Why?”

“Wanted to see if you wanted to get drinks.”

“You want to go get drinks with me?” I point to myself flabbergasted that someone as hot as him would want to go out with me. I always found myself pretty. But I wasn’t delusional that their were people way out of my league and the man before me was severely out of my league.

Dean nodded when spoke. “Yes I would like to do so.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Crossing my arms. “Why do you want to take me out? People who look like you don’t ask people that look like me out. The ones that do ask me out look like Jabba the Hut’s cousin in beer stained wife beaters and worn sweats that look like they haven’t been washed in weeks. Or ever seen daylight.”

When he laughed it sounded like music to my ears. “Nice visual. So drinks?”

“You are persistent.” I sighed part of me wanted to say yes because he was so cute and when am I going to ever have someone this hot ask me out. The other side was screaming that this was some guy breezing through town and he could be some murderer or something. “I’ll get drinks with you. But I’m going to go tell Matthew whats going on.”

“Who’s Matthew?”

“The front desk night manager. To let him know why I’m leaving my car in the parking lot and so someone knows whats going on. I just met you today, you could be some killer or something.”

My stomach was in knots the entire time as Dean drove to the bar I suggest after he asked where a good place was to go. I had to pinch myself a few times because I couldn’t believe this was happening.

I could feel the eyes on me when we walked through the door. It was inevitable no matter where we went that I was going to see people I knew. I’ve been living here my entire life. After Dean asked what I’d like, he suggested I get a table while he got the drinks after I answered him.

Dean approached the bar motioning for the bartender, one of the customers moved next to him. “You walked in here with Y/N?”

“I did.” He cautiously spoke.

“Be careful with that one.” He warned going back to his seat.

“Two El Sol’s please.” Pulling out some cash for the bartender when she returned with two open bottles.

I found a table in the corner not waiting long before he showed up. “Should I be worried I’m getting drinks with you?” He asked when he joined me at the table.

Confused by the question. “What?”

“I had some guy tell me to be careful with you.”

I looked over to towards the bar. “Was it the guy in the cowboys jersey and worn brown trucker hat?” I look back at Dean to see him nod a yes. “I wasn’t going to bring this up since you probably aren’t going to be here long. But that is Chester. Him and his white trash girlfriend who dated her cousin at one point don’t like me. Growing up I lived and breathed the show X-Files, huge fan. Still kind of am honestly. If I go into anymore detail you’re going to say you have to use the bathroom and ditch me here. So trust me when I say that my obsession with that show is what got me bullied and teased in school and why are being warned about me.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. Thats a good show, Scully is hot.” Clinking his beer with mine. “I bet you had the hots for Mulder.”

I snort trying to hold back a laugh. “No, it was Langly from The Lone Gunman.”

His eyebrows shot up. “The skinny blonde dude with the glasses?”

“I had a thing for nerds growing up.” I could feel my face getting warm knowing my cheeks had to be pink.

Smirking Dean leaned on the table. “What about now?”

“I still have a thing for nerds but my taste has broadened.” I take a sip of my beer. “What about you? You have a thing for red heads?

“I have a thing for all pretty women.” Gulping down some of his beer. “I’m curious though to how obsessed were you with the show that has strangers telling me to be weary of you?”

“You’ll never know.”

I watched him move closer to me as I got a massive amount of butterflies that were making me feel like I might throw up. “Oh I want know.”

“Only if you share something equally embarrassing first.” I counter hoping that this will get him to change the subject.

“I don’t have anything that’s embarrassing.”

“Everyone has something that’s embarrassing.”

Shaking his head as he took a drink of his beer. “Nope not me.”

I lightly hit his arm in jest. “You are so full of shit.”

Dean sighed. “Fine if you must know. I enjoy Dr. Sexy M.D.”

“No way you watch that show?!” I gasped. Of everything I could he had that would be considered embarrassing, him watching that doctor/soap opera drama wasn’t on my list.

“Guilty as charged.”

Wetting my lips before I spoke. “You must really want the details to admit that. If it’s true.”

“For three episodes Dr. Sexy was hit by a car trying to save the love of his life that put him in a coma for a few days.” He grinned motioning the bartender for 2 more beers.

Finishing my beer hoping what was left in it would give me a little more courage to spill my guts. “My love of that show ran deep ever since I read someone’s post about being abducted by aliens on MySpace. And because I talked about abductions and wore x-files merch I became the weird kid that everyone warns the other about. All because I believe aliens are real and wasn’t shy to say something about it”

“That isn’t so embarrassing.” He said handing some money to the bartender that brought their new beers over.

“That’s easy coming from the attractive guy who’s never been made fun of in school. I was mocked and teased for loving a tv show.”

“Yet you are the one having beers with the attractive guy while others are dating their cousins. Though saying you believe in aliens would get ridiculed by any person. No one should make fun of someone for believing in something.”

I felt my face get warm glancing down at my lap. “Thanks for saying that.”

“Honestly I’m glad that I didn’t ask out someone who’s dated a relative.”

“Better be careful with what you say, we could be related. I read an article the other day that it’s been known to happen thanks to the fact people are taking more and more DNA tests. They than find out their are related on some aspect.” Catching the face he made for a split second made me want to throw up. I made it super weird and now he wants to bail. “I’m sorry. I made it weird. I’ll understand if you want to leave.”

“What makes you think I don’t like weird?”

I couldn’t hide the laugh that escaped my lips. “Come on! Someone who looks like you doesn’t like the weird chic like me.”

“Weird chic’s are hot.”

“Till we do weird chic things, then we are crazy.”

Dean was smirking when he spoke. “Crazy can be fun.”

“You know you don’t have to try so hard. I don’t sleep with someone on the first date despite how attractive I find you.” This may be a huge mistake on my part. But I’ve never been that kind of person who does random one night stands. I never begrudged those who like doing them. It just was never my kind of thing. “Sorry if I ruined this date if that was what you were expecting when you asked me out.”

“I had thought about it. I’m now actually intrigued about Chester and his cousin dating girlfriend.”

I laughed hard. “That barely scratches the tip of the iceberg that is this town of odd.”

“So the fact that this place is called Truth and Consequences isn’t the weirdest thing about this town?” I shook my head no as I went for my drink. “Do tell me more.” Dean asked.

A few hours later Dean had driven us back to the motel and was parked by my car. We hadn’t gotten out yet. “This was a lot of fun. Thanks for it.”

“I had fun. I’m going to be looking at every couple I see and wonder if they ever dated a family member before.”

“I’d be careful going down that road. It may lead you into thinking stuff you might want to wash you brain out with bleach afterwards.” I noticed Dean laughing as he was staring at me. “What? Did I finally make it to weird for you?”

The world melted away when Dean leaned in, his lips were so softy against mine. I felt like I was in a dream as his tongue darted in my mouth. If I wasn’t actually touching him I wouldn’t believe that I was making out with the finest person I had ever seen in my life. I felt like screaming in excitement. “I couldn’t end the night not doing at least that with you.” He smiled when he broke the kiss.

I knew my face was bright red and was so glad for the dim lighting so he couldn’t see that. “Goodnight Dean.”

“Goodnight Y/N.” He called as I climbed out of his car.

[onedaythreeautums]

Fem reader with dean. Kind of girl who jingles when she walks with bracelets and necklaces. People are rude, asking what's the need. But dean loves his jangly girl.

Idk this might be dumb

A/N: wowie sorry this took forever, i started this months ago and forgot. i personally love jewelry so i thought this was cute. sorry its short, hope you enjoy!

you happened to be working at a bar when Dean approached you. you were the only one who wore such an extensive amount of jewelry, and you would jingle every time you walked by. it caught his attention.

he showed genuine interest in your jewelry and asked about each necklace or bracelet, listening attentively to your stories behind each piece.

he kept returning to your bar, just for you, just to hear your jewelry clinking as you worked. eventually, he got the courage to ask you on a date, and specified that you wear your prettiest accessories for it.

when you finalized your relationship with him, he made it an effort to gift you things he thinks you would like. which ranges from jewelry, key chains, and hair clips. he loves supporting your accessory-filled life-style.

now, when you two are out together and people give you stares, he will glare back like a protective dog and wrap his arm around your waist. its clear that it angers him whenever people seem to be judgemental about you, he gets a little crease in his eyebrow that you call cute, and he pouts. he pulls you closer and when you mention it he denies it.

the first time someone asked you what was the need for all of the jewelry, he tells them to fuck off…

you kindly tell him its okay, that you can stand up for yourself. but hes so protective of his girl he cant help himself.

anytime after that when people ask, he explains that its just your style and it has meaning to you. you don't miss his jaw clenching or how his gaze darkens. you appreciate that hes polite to strangers out of respect for your wishes though.

it doesn't take long in your relationship before he, too, starts wearing jewelry. rings, a necklace you gifted, and a bracelet you used to wear all the time. whenever someone asks, its "my girl gave them to me."

[imaginesforfandom]

Heartbeat Symphony

AHHHH i love this man too much lmao. this is short and sweet so have fun my lovelies!

how have i not written for this man yet like-

Dean Winchester x Reader

No pronouns used

Summary: After a long day on the road, the couple finds solace in the comfort of the Impala. The story explores the quiet moments between hunts, emphasizing the deep connection and love they share. Back at the bunker, they unwind together, appreciating the simplicity of being a team both in and out of the field. The narrative highlights the strength of their bond and the sense of home they find in each other's company.

Heartbeat Symphony

Dean Winchester sat in the driver's seat of the Impala, one hand casually resting on the steering wheel as he glanced over at you. The rhythmic hum of the engine was the backdrop to the comfortable silence that filled the car. You had been on the road for hours, chasing down the latest lead on a case, and now the two of you were finally heading back to the bunker.

As Dean drove, he stole glances at you, appreciating the way the soft glow from the dashboard highlighted the contours of your face. The quiet moments between hunts were just as precious as the action-packed ones. He reached over, fingers brushing against yours, and a warm smile formed on his lips as he interlaced them.

"You doing okay, Y/N?" Dean asked, his voice a soothing melody that echoed through the Impala.

You nodded, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder. "Yeah, just tired. Ready to get back and hit the hay."

Dean chuckled, the sound vibrating through both of you. "Well, we make a damn good team, don't we?"

You smirked, lifting your head to meet his eyes. "The best. Team Winchester."

As the familiar sight of the bunker came into view, Dean couldn't help but feel a swell of contentment. The two of you had been through so much together, and yet, every moment felt like a new adventure with you by his side.

Once inside the bunker, you kicked off your boots and flopped down onto the worn-out couch in the library. Dean joined you, sitting close enough that your shoulders brushed against each other. He reached for the TV remote, flicking through the channels until he found an old black-and-white movie.

"You know," Dean said, his arm finding its way around your shoulders, "we make a pretty good team in and out of the field."

You laughed, snuggling closer. "Yeah, we do. I wouldn't want to hunt monsters with anyone else."

Dean turned his head, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. "Me neither, Y/N."

The movie played in the background, but you found yourself more captivated by the steady cadence of Dean's heartbeat. It was a comforting symphony, a reminder that you were home, safe in the arms of the person you loved.

As the night wore on, you both drifted off to sleep on the couch, tangled together in a mess of limbs and blankets. The bunker echoed with the quiet sounds of the TV and the distant hum of the machinery that kept the place running.

In the darkness, Dean whispered words of love, promises, and gratitude, knowing that every day with you was a gift. And as you slept, you couldn't help but smile, feeling the warmth of his love surround you like a protective embrace. Together, you faced the challenges that came your way, hand in hand, heart in heart, a team bound by something stronger than any supernatural force – love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i loved writing this OMG!! i can't believe i haven't written for Dean yet. i absolutely adore him so so much lmao

[mcubuckyxlokisbitch]

What If Theres No Next Time ? (part 1) Part 2 (coming soon)

DEAN WINCHESTER X EX HUNTER! READER oneshot !

Warnings: Angst, Attempts of SA!, MDNI, mentions of death, tell me if i miss anything darlings. also its not as accurate cuz I I'm still on season 4 so if theres other lores i missed I'm sorry :(

Also I haven't found the write flow to write my smut yet so theres not alot of it here but as I always say little smut is better than no smut at all.

A/n: I can't believe it took me this long to watch supernatural, I just joined the fandom and learned so much and without a doubt fell in love with Dean Winchester. So here we go tell me how it is babess.

You weren't surprised

Well actually you were but at the same time not really, its the same kind of surprised thats masking the disapointment.

There you were in your dress, recently bought siting every so nicely amongst your curves.

You tried so hard not to but by this time Dean had canceled 5 dates and ditched you during coffee 3 times for hunts. You prayed and I mean really prayed this time maybe just maybe, god would put the monsters to rest just for your 5th year anniversary. Just enough for a decent conversation, a real one.

You took another sip of your wine and your wrist broke free of your will to avoid it this entire time. 8 50 p.m

Almost 2 hours you thought.

Surely in 10 minutes he would burst through those doors with that godawful grin you fell for in the first place.

You checked your phone real quick and went to Deans contacts and saw your past texts

D: running a little late sweetheart but start drinks without me I'm on my way eta 15 min <3

Yeah that was 45 minutes ago. You always tried to understand, of course you had to you were one too. You left that life behind when one of the Vampires tried to get back at you by trying to get to Dean so you dropped it all the moment all your debts were paid. You never expected Dean to drop it for you, you knew how hard it was when you start there is no stopping. However you must admit it does get tiring trying to understand.

You dropped your phone of at the bar to charge it mostly cuz you just didn't want to be obsessed over the time or Dean anymore and just wanted to get something good out of tonight.

--------------------

"DAMMIT, SON OF A BITCH. CMON BABY PICK UP THE GODDAMN PHONE." Dean smacked the wheel of his impala

"Calm down Dean we'll get there in time." Sam said flipping through his book.

"I'm late to my own Anniversary and the demon we were hunting is going after my anniversary date Sam. I CAN'T CALM DOWN."

"Gimme your phone, I'll call her you drive. You're gonna get us killed if you do both."

"Cmon Baby, pick up." he prayed under his breath. Speeding through every yellow light.

Sam tried your cell again. But it led to voicemail again.

"Hi its Y/N, if I didn't pick up your call I'm either really busy or your just not relevant enough for me to call you back try again soon. If its Dean, Im probably mad at you. Kisses. " the beep was followed by

"Any luck?"

"Voice mail." Sam groaned trying again the moment he heard Hi its y/n.

"Crap I'm coming baby." he floored it going twice as fast as he was before.

--------------------

You smiled as the waitress, as she poured another glass of wine. Fidgeting with the charm bracelet Dean got you for your birthday.

You raised your hand and open your hand up as you would a book mouthing out menu. She smiled and gave a small nod. Looking around the tables next to you noticing all the amazing food. You could order your favourite burata salad Dean would laugh at if he was hear.

God stop. Focus.

You took another deep breathe, cmon you can order food without thinking about D-

Dammit.

You looked around at peoples plates, salmon, lobster, steak and soup. The soup actually smelled amazing, either that or your just really hungry and a pickle could also smell amazing you didn't know.

One did really caught you attention though, it was your favourite meal, you caught a wiff of it too. You stared it down considering wether to have your introverted self to ask the person what he ordered.

"Would you rather have mine or have me order a new one for you darling." the gentleman said.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to stare. I just hope its okay if I ask what is that, it smells amazing." you were practically drooling.

"The lamb." he cut up the corner side of the meat that he hasn't touch yet and offered the fork to you. "Have a taste test before ordering it the sauce was between the garlic aioli or the lemon butter sauce."

"Please tell me you chose the garlic aioli."

"Looks like you and I already have much in common." leaning the fork towards you.

You shyly take the fork and hesitated for a second, "You don't have hep or TBC right."

"No but I think I caught mono from my elementary long term crush Rachel Prance back in high school."

You pressed down a smile to the corny joke he just mentioned.

"I graduated high school 8 years ago by the way."

You bit your lip taking the meat in your mouth and it was perfect, soft, juicy and tender. Taking a deep breath as if you could smell each aroma put in the lamb.

"I don't wanna offend you but it kind looks like you haven't eaten in a year."

"Well if it makes you feel any better I haven't eaten anything since 9 am, maybe not 12 months but 12 hours."

"With all that wine to start with thats not smart and you seem like a smart girl." he started to flirt. He held his neck adjusting himself before groaning out, "Hey what you say if we stop pissing of the waitress by blocking the pathway, order you a nice lamb chop like this one for you to devour and sit across each other and enjoy rest of the night."

You smiled before leaning back and sitting upright in your seat again. "I'm sorry you're right but I'm waiting for someone." you fidgeted on your charm again. "I'm waiting for my boyfriend, I didn't mean to-" you sighed before getting the attention of the waitress to order the lamb. "I led you on I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to."

"Well you would be surprised, a lot of people can sit and have a conversation without to have mean anything." he grinned taking a sip of his own wine. "And don't worry I won't try anything however it seems like your boyfriend needs to work on his punctuality."

You scoffed "Thats not the only thing." you winced and pressed your lips regretting that reaction.

"Rough night?" he grinned.

"I'm going strong." you said tired of having yourself making excuses for him. "As you can clearly tell."

"Rant over lamb and wine." he offered, gesturing to his table.

It couldn't hurt right talking over wine and lamb in a velvet covered restaurant with soft jazz and candle-lit tables. "I shouldn't, enjoy your night sir." you smiled.

--------------------

"Sammy tell me something good."

"No luck"

"Crap we're not gonna make it in time."

"Why'd you even agree to the hunt if you had a date 57 miles away."

"I thought I could make it maybe being 1 hour late max."

"Thats low Dean especially to your girl." "Surprised she stayed this long."

"Yeah, well right now I'm praying she left so the demon don't get to her alright, call her again."

---------------------

You inhaled the lamb and downed it in 15 minutes. You were chewing the last bite before smiling to yourself.

"That was amazing." the voice next tot you sounded. "I have never met anyone that can eat that fast."

"Well thats 175 dollars down the toilet in the next hour." he laughed chewing on his dessert.

You let out a small laugh before letting out another sigh. You were screaming inside. Dean was late, you just inhaled 175 dollars and a cute guy next to you was flirting and you could do nothing but sit there and behave.

"If you wanna punish your boyfriend with the bill. You should order this chocolate soufflé."

"After tonight, he'd be lucky to even see any trace of me." you said, voice laced with anger. "I hope your offer of sitting across you still stands."

"It does not." he plainly stated. Then you heard his chair screech as he carried his plate and brought it to the seat across you, "I happen to be quite the gentleman. You want a taste." he grinned waving his spoon.

"Don't mind if I do." you hummed before taking the spoon in your mouth.

--------------------

"Dean, no luck."

"Sam I don't know what to do."

"Dean just pray she's safe."

"Yeah well right now I'm praying she's just mad at me. Not tortured or kidnapped by a demon."

"She's gonna be fine she was hunter Dean."

"So are we and we got schooled by a bloody demon."

--------------------

"Ma'am, your phone keeps ringing and it's disturbing the bartender we didn't pull until its full."

"Sorry sorry, thank you." the waitress handed you the phone before leaving.

"I'm pretty sure she just rolled her eyes." he husked out.

You giggled before shaking your head and checking your phone.

Crap. 110 miscalls in the past 1 hour 45 minutes, how pathetic.

"Your boyfriend ?"

"He can wait." you said with graceful simplicity.

"Thats my girl." he proudly said.

"I'm sorry we've been talking for hours, I didn't catch your name."

"Rogers."

"Well thank you for making my night a little more entertaining Rogers."

"Your boyfriend coming anytime soon."

"Don't worry he wouldn't dare try anything with you before I get at least a few punches in."

"Never had a shitty boyfriend but I had a pretty crappy girlfriend."

"Oh gossip tell me about it."

"Over wine like a bunch of old ladies ?"

"Your right." You waved over the waitress as she walks over to you and you ordered, "Do you have a johnny walker blue."

"Yes we do ma'am."

"Can we have the bottle."

"Right away ma'am." she turned around but turned back "Would you like to move to our bar."

"Were fine here thanks." Alaister said.

Your phone buzzed again and you say Deans name on the screen, before letting out a sigh putting it on silent. You led your eyes to the the mirror beside your table and adjusted your hair, then you swear to god you saw it his eyes turn black for just a millisecond as he whispered to the waitress.

"I got your bill by the way."

"You didn't have to I brought my boyfriends credit card."

"No offence but I don't trust the credit card of a dude who's 3 hours late to his 5 year anniversary."

You froze, you maybe retired but you can still spot a demon a mile away. The smell, eyes, the random knowledge, only one last test. You left your phone out and excused yourself to the bathroom.

You brought out your pack of cigarettes and prepped out the can of salt our of its hidden compartment of your bag. You took your knife from your bag and latched it on to your holster on your thigh.

Crap, crap, crap. You looked at the mirror in front of you. This was supposed to be your night, this wasn't supposed to be a blast from the past.

Breathe girl you've been doing this with your mom since you were 16. That dagger on your thigh sweet 16 birthday present. Sweet. You combed through your hair and push yourself off the sink.

Pushing the door open walking over to your table where he sat grinning.

"I know you have a boyfriend but is it appropriate to say you really are a fresh breathe of air."

"Well thats a first." you pulled out a pack from your purse "Hey... do you smoke."

"Only every other day."

"Good because I got a pack, our bottle and alleyway with our names on it." you grinned shaking your pack of cigarettes in front of him.

"Colour me stoked." he smirked while grabbing the bottle.

--------------------

You walked out of the restaurant while putting on your coat and walking down the street to the alley way you parked your bike.

Leaning against the wall you pulled out one for yourself. Hitching up your heel against the wall for better access to your knife.

Here we go.

You saw the man walk up to you and lean against the wall next to you smiling looking up to the sky.

You opened a bottle of holy water you had for safe keeping, heart thumping in your ear. He beamed at you.

"Im guessing from your invitation, Dean left you for dead in that restaurant."

You laughed out a little before sighing reaching into your purse for the holy water.

"Whats so funny."

"I never told you his name." You threw the water right at him, sizzling noises followed giving you enough time to get the knife from your thigh. "The smell of sulfur, the random knowledge about Dean, and you should really be very careful where you show your true colours."

Trying to strike him but he grabbed your arms and slammed you hard against the wall hard.

Then you saw its eyes. Pitch black while the body you sprayed was still sizzling.

"I'm a retired hunter not stupid." before you could continue he grabbed your throat and had you pushed higher against the ceiling.

"Sorry baby doll but I need that little meat sack of yours." he tapped onto your chest. His finger leading down from your collar bone to your chest lower and lower. "You are divine."

"Don't fucking touch me." you squirmed but a demons grip was strong. The grip on your neck went from holding you to place to choking you.

"I'd treat your body so good if you let my darling posses you and carry your body. This-" he led his hand down to your curves and felt your ass. "I could get use to so well."

A tear escaped your eye from the disgust you felt and the lack of oxygen.

"Aww poor girl, don't let tears go to waste for a man. Who can't even be on time." he used his thumb and wiped the tear off your cheek. He leaned down and grinned his grin placed itself on top of your lips. Making you squirm even more. "Delicious."

You spat in his face which earned you a strong backhand. Enough to draw blood from your lips.

Latching his tongue from your collar bone to your jaw. You looked away as much as possible as more tears fall hotter with each drop.

He took you by the ribs and slammed you hard agains the wall, knocking the wind out your lungs. "Try that again and I rip out your heart, pull you out of hell then skin alive just to send you back."

From the corner of your eye you could see, the waitress that was serving you all night came out into the alley way and walked over to you. A thick black smoke escaped her body and tried to enter yours but the smoke got caught up on itself and got itself backed in the waitresses body.

"Sorry baby doll." you pulled down the v cut on your dress to reveal the anti - demon possession charm Dean got on you, "I'm demon proof egg breath, find another meat sack."

"You are of no use to me then." before he could grab you kicked him off you.

The waitress tried to pounce at you but you grabbed your leftover holywater from your purse and threw it at her. The can of salt you had you lined it in a circle around you. You grabbed your gun and pointed it at them.

"You think thats going to do anything. To us."

They were right, all you could do was wait.

"Winds a little strong tonight how long do you think that pathetic little circle is gonna-" You took a shot at waitress that got her to tumble and groan. Salt laced.

"Long enough." you grinned.

"You bitch."

"Here I thought you were a gentleman Rogers, what happened. Truth a little too salty."

"Wait till the second wind blows and I break your neck. You're never gonna out run a demon." he seethed at you walking up to you but still not crossing the salt line.

You saw two figures coming up from behind them and knew exactly what to do. Keep them distracted.

"Today must be the shittiest day for Dean to leave you dead."

Sam took a bucket of holy water and threw it to them causing them to get caught off guard.

You grabbed your knife and pounced at the waitress. She punched you hard, you reciprocated quick. You grabbed her neck and pull her up which lead to her head butting you. You roundhouse kicked her then and threw another left hook.

You pushed her against a wall, well slammed her against the wall and elbowed her knocking her out. You grabbed her by the collar and turned to your boys.

While Dean was being pinned down and Sam was trying get his balance again gripping his jaw. Rogers kneeled on Dean and about to thrown down one on him.

But you quick thinker, threw the waitresses body towards Rogers throwing him off Dean.

Dean got up quick to pin him down, "You son of a bitch, what did you do to my girl."

"From the way I was touching her tonight. You might wanna reconsider calling her your girl." he smiled creepily.

Dean took a strong swing at him Dean on the other hand grabbed the knife he got from Ruby and placed it against his neck. "NOW SAM."

Sam murmured the latin language, "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas-"

Before you know it two strong black smokes pushed out of their bodies.

Your there catching your breathe while Dean gets off the man and looks back at you sitting huffing and puffing.

Dean jolts to you and checks you looking around at your body, "Sam make sure they're ok."

"You okay baby what did they do to you."

"Get off me."

"Whoah took a pretty hard punch there, let me fix that for you baby."

"Don't touch me please." you pulled yourself away from his hands.

You tried to get up and walk to your bike, while Dean looked confused at Sam who raised his arms in surrender, "She's your girl man go apologise." before walking away.

You put your purse below the seat of your bike and grabbed your coat from the ground switching it out for the leather jacket.

"You look beautiful." he checked out your ass and tried gently placed his hand on your shoulder. You lounge your hand out and hit him in the nose. While he tumbles back covering his nose. Groaning out "What the hell."

"Your dead meat to me Winchester if you ever come near me. I'll skin you alive." you got on your bike and grabbed your helmet. Tossing yourself on before turning it on.

"Cmon baby it's part of the job."

"Yeah it's always be right back Sam got a lead, sorry can't make it theres another hunt. It's part of the job, I know Dean I was doing the job. Then you got hurt so I dropped it."

"Yeah well next time I will be more on time then."

"Dean it's still not getting into your head is it. You keep talking about these next times. What if I didn't spot the demon in time next time, what if I didn't have the holy water or the salt or the dagger on me next time. What if they caught me off guard or I get hurt. What happens then next time."

"I will never let that happen to you. There won't be a next time"

"Yeah because today is a very great example."

"We can't stop you know that."

"I know, I know, I don't expect you to." you leaned against your bike the tears clouding yours vision"I'm sorry love you-I- I just need to get away."

"What ok then I'll get you a motel right next to mine."

"No from this from all of this."

"You know all of this includes me too."

"Maybe thats it." you scoffed, pressing down a smile before looking up to him "Maybe we're not meant to work out, maybe you need someone who is a hunter. I wanna go back to normal. I don't want to heavy my purse with salt and and go to the church and lie in there just to keep my dose of holy water."

"The mark of cain can protect you."

"The mark of cain protects me from possessions Deans not the actual killings, the punches, the knockouts." you throat closed up as you felt Rogers fingerprints haunt your body again "not their words, not their touch." you kept yourself away from Dean as he gave a concerned look.

"What did he do to you sweetheart."

"DEAN IT'S NOT HIM OR HER ITS WAS YOU, YOU WERE LATE, THE GRUDGE OF THAT DEMON WAS AGAINST YOU NOT ME, YOU MISSED OUR ANNIVERSARY, YOU HAVEN'T COME HOME IN WEEKS. THE ONE NIGHT I GET YOU TO MYSELF."

"WHAT AND YOU WANT TO JUST LEAVE THE LIFE AND LET SAMMY DIE."

"STOP USING THAT AGAINST ME." you pushed him back into the ground.

"Crap, cmon."

You turn the handle and sped out the alley and drove fast away.

"One hell of a fight." Sam whistled hands in pocket.

"You heard?" he mumbled face in his hands.

"I think the whole town heard, Dean." he retorted.

Dean was huffing and puffing and fell to his knees.

But you were right, there might not even be a next time.

------------------------------------------------------------

hey so yeah its my first dean one -shot go easy on me yeah SPN fans <3 i hope its good.

[reigningqueenofwords]

That Family

Parings: Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader Word count: 1,205 Request: Anonymous. If requests are open can I request a fluffy (maybe smutty) poly Sam x reader x dean (maybe au like no hunting)? I love your poly fics

Read on AO3

Standing at the airport, you had your 11 month old on your hip- every bit her father’s daughter. Her dirty blonde hair left loose, as you loved how naturally wavy it was. Her green eyes currently couldn’t be seen as she was napping on your shoulder, her small hand gripping your shirt. Your hand was being held by your son- his father’s clone. He left his hair shaggy, just like his, which only enhanced his hazel eyes. At 5, he was trying to be as much like his role model as possible. Not that you would argue.

“Mommy?” Came your son’s sweet voice. “Are they gonna be here soon?” He was getting impatient, and you knew exactly how he felt.

You smiled at him. “Soon, Danny.” You assured him, wanting to get away from the strangers taking pictures of you and your kids.

Seeing your husband’s head above the rest, you grinned. Soon, you saw his face and he had a huge grin on it when he saw the three of you. Seconds later, you spotted your other husband, his eyes locked on the sleeping infant on your shoulder. They’d been away for the past two months, so he was eager to hold his baby girl. “Daddy!” Your son yelled, running to him.

Sam laughed, crouching down to scoop him up. “Wow. You got so big!” He said as he moved towards you. “There’s our gorgeous wife.” His eyes were full of love as he kissed you softly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Danny scrunched his nose. “Ew.” Sam chuckled as he pulled away. “Gross.”

Dean instantly took Levi from your shoulder, putting her on his chest. “I missed my girls.” He kissed her cheek, and then you.

You smiled. “Well, your girls missed you.”

“Come on, let’s get home before those jerks start stampeding.” Dean groaned, putting his hand on your lower back, his bag over his shoulder.

“Yeah, the pictures started as soon as we got out of the car.” You sighed.

Dean shook his head. “We’ve been together 8 years, married 6, you’d think by now it wouldn’t be front page news.” He rolled his eyes.

Sitting at the breakfast table in one of Sam’s shirts, you sipped your coffee and started to browse the internet. Dean was still sleeping, and Sam was out swimming laps. So, you figured you’d might as well catch up on some world news.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.” You groaned, sitting back.

Your old friend, the head chef, heard you and peaked around the corner. “What’s wrong, doll?” The older male asked.

You sighed. “Since we went public, people are ridiculous! I mean, I was expecting pictures and all that…but really?” You motioned to the laptop. “What does my old job have to do with anything?” You’d been a cook for them before you started dating 6 months prior. Now you helped out everyone in the house. You didn’t ‘work’ for them anymore, but you did live there.

“You managed to snag not one, but two, of Hollywood’s hottest men. Both Winchesters.” He pointed out. “It’ll die down soon enough.”

“I hope so.” Looking over,  you licked your lips. “Need any help, Tony?” You smiled.

He laughed. “Bored?”

Laughing, you shook your head. “I miss our kitchen talks.” He’d always been a kind head chef, but firm.

“How about you help with lunch. I’m making your favorite.” He grinned when you looked excited. 

Both kids were bathed, and tucked in. Now, it was time for the three of you to just relax. During a normal week, you spent three nights with Dean, three with Sam, alternating. Then, the last night, alternated bi weekly. So, the first week of the month the 7th day might be Sam, so the next would be Dean, going on and on. It worked well since you’d figured that out. It had taken trial and error.

Tonight, however, was a special night. Nights they got back from filming, the three of you curled up into bed together, and cuddled. Understandably, you never had sex with both at the same time. It would have been weird all around in your opinion. That didn’t stop the press from writing about the insane orgies you apparently hosted.

Your head was on Sam’s shoulder, his arm around you, and his hand on your stomach. Your legs were across Dean, one of his hands massaging your foot, the other on your thigh. Just having them home made your world feel more complete. “So, I wanted to talk to you guys.” You smiled.

Sam chuckled, shaking you slightly. “Okay, doesn’t sound bad.” He teased you.

“What’s up, babe?” Dean asked.

“I want to have our last two kids soon.” You told them. Dean’s eyebrows went out. “Hear me out.” This was something you’d thought through, after all. “Not only would it put them close to age, it means that we’d wait less time for us to be able to travel with you. If we wait years before each? That’ll mean longer times with us away from you.”

Dean nodded. “You do have a point there.” You refused to fly when trying, especially once you’d had Danny and were trying with Dean. Flying while pregnant didn’t sound comfortable, and neither did flying with a newborn. “I can agree with that if Sammy can.”

He thought about it. “Well, we will have that press thing for the movie in about 7-8 months. Would you be okay for that time by yourself? After that we’re free for a bit.” Sam added.

Smiling, you looked up at him. “How about we plan to start trying in a couple months? There’s no telling if it would happen right away, and the baby would be due hopefully when you’re done, or close to done.” Of course, they’d fly home to get to you, but they didn’t want to risk missing the birth of any of their kids.

“I think that’s perfect.” Sam agreed, nodding.

“How old do you want them to be when we try for ours?” Dean asked. This was how things went. Things were discussed with all three of you, and planned the three of you.

You thought. “I’d like the same time frame as this one, filming permitting.” Which was always something to consider. “We’ll see what it looks like after we have baby number three.”

Sam leaned down, kissing the top of your head. “I can’t wait.” He grinned. “I love watching you with the kids.”

Hearing Levi crying, you chuckled. “I got it.” Dean grinned, getting up. “I’ll admit. I missed this.” He jogged up the stairs.

Shifting, your head was in his lap. “So, four kids.” You grinned, running your fingers over his scruff. “Life will be insane.”

“In the best way.” He added, looking towards the stairs as Dean came down holding Levi. “What’s up?”

Dean chuckled. “She just wanted to be held.” Levi giggled, looking cute as she leaned on Dean. “I have a feeling this one will pose for the paparazzi.” You and Sam nodded. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s go play.” He moved to lay on his back on the floor with her, the movie simply background noise now.

[chrisparagon]

Dean Winchester One Shot - Nightmares

Dean Winchester One Shot – Nightmares

Summary: Dean has nightmares and is comforted by the reader.

Warnings: recalling/feeling physical pain

WC: 2,215

I really like this one. 😊 I hope you do too. I like to call this angsty fluff.

It’s not uncommon for you to go into Dean’s room when he’s sleeping – well, when he’s having nightmares. You just thought it was something you should do. Dean isn’t that loud when he has nightmares, but the muffled noises and sounds often wake you through the thin walls on the other side of the hall. Usually, you’ll go in and sit on his bed and place a hand on his shoulder, while you doze off, still half asleep. If the nightmares are particularly bad, you’ll chant an incantation, of course, as silently as possible so as not to wake him. You know the nightmares won’t hurt him, and your presence has always seemed to help calm him down. You’ve never brought it up with Dean. When the nightmares first started happening - or at least, when you caught on that they were happening – you would wake up Dean and see if he was ok. But more than anything he would be frustrated that you woke him and just roll over and go back to sleep. So, you tried other methods and they seemed to work. Dean stayed asleep and your peace of mind was restored.

You were quiet about it tonight. You had heard Dean’s silent pleas through the walls again. You cracked open his door and saw his restless body. He was turning more than usual tonight. His face was contorted as he silently pleaded “no” to whatever it was in his dream. You rubbed your face, wishing to be less tired these days. You put one arm out into the dark room, familiar where the restless sleeper was. You stumbled as you tripped on some clothes but approached the bed silently.

“Dean?” You whispered.

“No.” He mumbled in response. You grimaced. Pain had followed Dean his whole life, and now it haunted him in his sleep.

“You’re okay.” You whispered gently.

Dean clutched at the sheets, trying to remove something around him. His panting was obvious. You sat on the edge of his bed and place your hand gently on his shoulder, he was hot. You could feel moisture through his shirt. It made you think he had been like this for a while. Dean tried to shake off your hand, but his body motions soon slowed. He tossed his head back and forth, fear still evident on his face. His breathing was hard, and he had a death grip on the blankets still.

”Shh, shh, shh.” You hushed. You placed your hand over his, taking a deep breath. You reasoned that maybe people could feel others’ emotions, so if you were calm, it would calm him down. It seemed to help his movements. His body stilled and his breathing became more even, with only short burst of silent moans here and there.

You spoke one of the incantations Pamela had taught you years ago. You whispered it barley loud enough to hear, but it worked. Dean’s rough hands relaxed against the blankets and the tension in his shoulders left. He was quiet. You gave another sigh and adjusted yourself on his bed, so that your back was to him. You continued to leave a hand on his shoulder but sat there in the comfort of the silence.

You weren’t sure how long you had been there, but you figured it was enough that Dean would sleep peacefully the rest of the night. You rose to leave his room.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice broke the silence of the night.

His voice startled you, causing you to jump and spin. You sighed, forcing your heart to slow. Through the dim light you could see Dean leaning on an arm, head cocked in curiosity. You weren’t sure how to respond and stood there in silence. Dean caught on.

“What are you doing here?” He asked a little to forceful.

Blush forced its way into your cheeks and embarrassment filled you as you remembered the don’t-go-into-each-others-room’s policy. You tried to defend yourself, but it came out weak.

“You were having a nightmare.” You squeaked. Silence filled the room, and you didn’t want to tell him the truth. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok.” You said. No response. You looked down, trying to avoid what your surely thought would be Dean’s burning gaze. Even in the dark you didn’t want to see it. You turned to leave.

“Wait, Y/N.” He said gently. He shifted in his bed, pulling himself upright. You took a deep breath, remembering who you were. You’ve faced countless monsters and faced your fears. This was Dean, someone who defended you and fought beside you, were weren’t ashamed to break the rules to defend him.

You found your footing and sat on in the same spot on the bed as before. Dean flicked on his lamp, making you both squint. He was a lot closer than you anticipated, and it took you a moment to gather yourself to meet his gaze. Dean looked slightly abashed when you did look at him, it made you ease. He was frowning, confused probably about more than anything.

“What were you chanting?” He asked as he met your gaze. There was no accusation in his eyes or his voice, just curiosity. Under normal conditions he would have been very annoyed. You blinked, trying to process the information. You ran a hand through your hair.

“Um, an incantation.” You said. “I learned it from Pamela.” You stated simply, looking back at Dean. He held the same expression as before, but his brows grew a deeper furrow as he connected the dots.

“How many times have you done this?” His voice again was soft, but his gaze demanded an answer.

You turned away, shocked. What should you say? You’re in there almost every night.

“A few times.” You stated, looking at your hands. Dean was silent and you turned back to him. His eyes pressed for a better answer and you shifted in your seat. He was so good at seeing a lie.

“Almost every night.” You said quietly. Dean nodded and leaned against the bedframe, realization crossing his face. Dean would do one of two things now – he would either be mad and in denial and close off his emotions, or he would accept the kind gesture. He wasn’t very good at the latter.

You were uncomfortable. You wanted to defend yourself and tell him not to be mad, that you tried to ignore it. You contemplated, but told yourself again that this is your friend, that you do what you can for each other and not be ashamed of it. You sighed again and straightened your back, fixing a confident gaze at the wall, and then at Dean. He was studying his hands in his lap, fidgeting uncomfortably. You softened at the sight. He was caught needing help, and he knew it.

“Do I say much?” He asked quietly, not looking up. Your heart clenched at his question. You couldn’t imagine what he thought. Night after night you coming in here, you could’ve heard anything.

“Not really.” You said. And that was true. “Occasional pleas.” You explained simply. But you knew his pain associated with those few words were far greater than anything you could imagine. Dean sighed and stared at the opposite wall, quieting his hands. Oh, the thoughts that were running through is head. You placed a hand over his, reassuring him silently.

“Sammy doesn’t know I still have them.” He confessed. A pause ensued. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand. Dean opened his hands, passively taking yours in his. It surprized you.

“Do you remember them?” You asked. Dean shook his head.

“Only fragments.” He said quietly. You nodded in response. It was his turn to play with your hand. You wondered at the gesture. Should you ask to stay with him tonight? It wouldn’t bother you. But would it bother him in the morning? He was vulnerable enough now, but that wouldn’t last forever, and you didn’t want to be there when the walls went back up. You took your hand from his and moved it to his face. He looked at you at from the unexpected gesture. You avoided his gaze as you stroked his cheekbone.

You hand and gaze dropped into your lap.

“I’m across the hall if you need anything.” You said. You gave a glance and a small smile at him before you left the room.

You closed the two doors. You almost wished he had said “I need you right now” and just allowed someone to be there for him. You sighed at his stubbornness. The darkness of your room filled your vision again as you crawled under your covers. If you slept again that night, it would be a miracle.

* * *

A few weeks passed with the same custom. Dean would have a nightmare and you would help moderate his fear. He didn’t wake up again. But one night Dean woke up with a panic. He had thrown off his covers and sweat was rolling down his face and soaked his shirt. He ditch his shirt on the ground. He grimaced and rubbed his hands over his face. He flopped down on the bed and took deep breaths, trying to stop the fiery claws that raked over his body. His heart slowed, but the images were so real. They flashed over his vision and stung his body like a venomous knife. The images returned fragments of the nightmare and it was difficult not to dwell on the blood and screams. His hands flopped onto his bed, he was wide awake now. He rose and went to the bathroom, standing over the edge of the sink. Dean shut his eyes and shook his head, splashing water on his face. The water was cool on his face and he relaxed a bit and looked at himself in the mirror. He jumped at the flash of dissolving flesh on his face, and quickly turned his back to the mirror. He ran a delicate hand over his face, confirming it was in fact all there. He sighed as a fresh wave of adrenaline ran through him. He crossed his arms in a hug as tears brimmed his eyes and he chewed his cheek. He was so frustrated and so tired. After a long day of fighting monsters while awake, he just wanted to sleep. He was sick of the memories and the nightmares, and he had no way to stop them.

Or did he? The offer you gave Dean a few weeks ago flashed back in his mind. No, no he couldn’t. He didn’t need anybody’s help; he could figure this out on his own. But he was sick of doing things on his own and the hauntings of those memories was so real tonight. And he recalled how easy it was for you to be there. Surely you wouldn’t mind?

Dean stood in his bathroom contemplating his options. For a while he shoved down his tears and wiped away the stray one’s. He tried to calm himself, calm his mind, but he couldn’t. Dean arrived at a conclusion as he flicked off the lights in his quarters and exited his room.

* * *

You heard a door creak through your dream. Then the bed dip, then an arm wrap around your waist. The physical touch was enough to wake you from your dream and you frowned at the movement. Dean pulled his arm back as you went stiff. You turned around, looking for a face in the dark. That was useless.

“Dean?” You asked. His sigh confirmed it was him.

“What’re you doing here?” You followed. His silence made you realize he hadn’t thought out and answer, and you could guess well enough why he was here.

“Nightmares?” you asked softly.

“Ya.” He responded. You didn’t need any more. You hummed, shuffled over, and flipped back into the position you were in. A paused ensued, you turned your head back.

“You coming?” You asked. Although you couldn’t see it, Dean’s movements stuttered as he took a moment to collect himself. He slowly took up position behind you, his scent washing over you. You deeply silently inhaled at his familiarity. Dean fixed himself in the crook of your neck and slid an arm over around your waist. You couldn’t help catching your breath and reflecting at your reaction and Dean’s unveiling.

Dean noticed your presence immediately calm him. His heart rate slowed, and he relaxed against your body. Sweet relief. He wondered how many times you had been in his room for you to have this sudden affect on him. He nuzzled against the back of your neck and sighed. Suddenly a thought occurred to him.

“If you mention any of this to Sam, you’re dead.” His voice was hard, but it was difficult to be intimidated when his voice was muffled against your skin. You smiled at the remark, noting the older Winchester could have a balance of vulnerability and toughness at the same time. “Fine by me.” You confirmed. You wrapped your hand protectively around Dean’s arm, hand over hand. Dean’s own hand moved in response, relaxing into your own fingers. Perhaps you both had something to learn about each other.

@deanswaywardgirl