#dean os

[iridianuniverse-blog]

Hey can you do number 1 for dean Winchester?? :)

Request a drabble!

“Come over here and make me.”

“Come on, Dean, don’t be like this.” You exclaimed with all the emphasis you could manage. “I just went out on a date! It’s not a big deal!”

“It’s a big deal when it’s your fifth date within the last week, Y/N!” Dean’s eyes held a sort of anger and frustration to them that you hadn’t seen at such an intensity before. “You don’t even get to know these people before you’re having drinks with them! What if one of them ends up being a murderer? Or maybe a psychopath?” His hands are balled into fists by his sides and his knuckles are white from the tension held inside his skin.

“Do you not trust my ability to defend myself?” 

He sighs and makes sure to lower his voice this time. “Look, I’m confident that you can handle yourself, but this is all getting out of control.” 

“What? My dating is a problem for you?” You ask, enraged by the audacity. “If you want me to stop, you’re going to have to come over here and make me.”

He looks slightly taken aback by your boldness, but recovers pretty quickly. You’re absolutely livid, and what makes it worse is your considerable feelings for him. 

He stalks across the room toward you, feet making a heavy thumping sound that almost matches the heavy thumping of your heart.

“Dean--”

His lips crash into yours, fingers threading through your hair, holding you to him. Your heart somehow beats harder, faster inside your chest as adrenaline rushes through your veins. 

Disappointingly, the both of you need to replenish your lungs with oxygen. He exhales against your lips and breathes in again, repeating the process in quick intervals. You open your eyes to see his bright green irises staring at you in wonderment.

“I should have done that a long time ago.”

A grin spreads across your lips at his words. Before you know it, your lips are attached to each other’s once again.

[iridianuniverse-blog]

The Eleventh Door Down

Pairing: Dean x Reader Author: iridianuniverse Summary: You’re staying at a pet-friendly motel when your cat gets out of your room. You go searching for it and stumble upon Dean, a stranger you’ve never met before. Reader gender: Female Word count: 1419 Warnings: Fluff, use of swearing by the Reader Author note: This is the first oneshot I’ve posted to this blog, (or any social media, really) so please feel free to give me your feedback! Constructive criticism is more than welcome. I'd love to write a part 2 to this if it's requested! --- You call out for your missing cat in a whisper-tone, due to the late hour of the night. You’d rather not get a call about being too loud while most people are sleeping. You’ve already knocked on over ten doors with no luck of finding your cat. You had left the motel room to make sure you had locked your car. When you returned, it was to the door you had accidentally left open, and your cat was gone. Taking a deep breath and hoping this would be the room where you would find your cat, you raise your hand and knock on the next door down the line. The door opens partway to reveal a man with tired-looking green eyes and scruff. His eyes study you as if he’s wary of you, but you think you see something of a glint in his eyes as he looks at you, and you can’t deny that he’s definitely on the more handsome end of the spectrum. “Can I help you?” “I’m Y/N.” You introduce yourself, offering a smile to make yourself seem friendlier. “I’m looking for my cat.” “Oh.” He says, lifting his eyebrows and opening the door the rest of the way and gesturing for you to enter the room. “You’re in luck.” Curled up on one of two full size beds in the room is your cat. At the sight of it, relief floods through you. It stretches as you rush over to the bed and kneel in front of it to pet it. “Oh, thank God!” “I saw it outside, figured I should let it into my room in case someone came looking.” He told you as he shut the door to the motel room. “Thank you so much.” You told him gratefully, looking at him over your shoulder. “I’m sorry to be bothering you this late into the night.” He went to sit down on the bed opposite from you and your cat and shook his head with a slight smile. “It’s not a problem, I’m happy to help.” You smiled back and racked your brain for the name of this man who had practically saved the life of your cat. “I don’t think I ever got your name…” “Oh, it’s, uh, Dean.” He replied, reaching a hand out toward you. You took his hand and shook it with yours. “It’s nice to meet you, Dean.” Your attention was soon captured by the various books scattered around pretty much every open surface that wasn’t a bed. “Are you an insane bookworm or something?” You asked jokingly. He lets out a chuckle and glances around the room, as if taking in for the first time the amount of books he has out, and nods in understanding. “Nah,” he denies, sitting up straighter and flexing the muscles in his biceps. You can’t help but grin in amusement. “Then I assume there’s another explanation?” “They’re my brother Sammy’s books.” He explains. “He’s the scholar of the family.” You nod in understanding. “So he's staying here, too? Where is he at…” Your eyes catch the digital clock on the nightstand. “Two fourteen in the morning?” You ask in surprise. You knew it was late, but you didn't think it was that late. “He, uh, actually left to go to another motel.” Dean tells you, scratching at the back of his neck and glancing at the floor. “Obviously, he didn't want to take the books with him.” “Oh…” You want to ask if they had gotten into some sort of argument, but you don't really know Dean that well and you don't want to be invasive. Plus, it's pretty obvious that whatever happened to make Sammy leave wasn't of a friendly nature. “Well, I hope everything's okay.” “It will be.” He assures you with a nod. “Sometimes we need to spend some time away from each other, just like all siblings.” You find yourself drawn toward this man that you've just met. Although you don't know him very well, he's been perfectly friendly to you, unlike many of the other people who you spoke to tonight while searching for your cat. “Well, thank you for finding my cat and keeping it safe.” You stand up and gather your cat up in your arms. The small animal doesn't like this much, which is made obvious by the three long scratches it leaves on your forearm when it struggles to get away. “Ow, shit!” You exclaim before you can stop yourself. Seeing as you're not one to back down from a challenge, you go for the cat again. “Woah, hey,” Dean stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Let's get you cleaned up before you try to face the beast again, alright?” You are once again taken aback by Dean’s kindness toward you. When you first met him, only a couple minutes ago, he seemed a little rough around the edges, but he continued to show that there was more to him. “Fine.” You agree begrudgingly. Dean seems amused by this as he turns to grab some bandages and antiseptic. Your eyes catch your cat, who is sitting proudly in the corner of the room. “I'm gonna kick your ass.” You mutter toward it and sit down on the bed. “Easy there, Jackie Chan.” Dean comments playfully from the bathroom. He returns to you with a wet, soapy washcloth and a first aid kit. He sets the first aid kit on the nightstand and sits down next to you. He takes your forearm in one of his hands and inspects it. “Looks like he got you pretty good.” You glance down at your arm and find that each long scratch is actually a pretty deep cut that bleeds moderately. “Must sting like a bitch.” He comments as he brings the soapy cloth up to your wound and dabs at it gently. You hiss inwardly through your teeth at the sudden rise in pain, but you try to sit still as Dean treats the wound. “Sorry.” He apologizes, looking at you and waiting to continue. You give him a nod and he goes on treating the wound. You close your eyes in order to deal with the pain. “So, why are you staying in this motel?” He asks you. “I'm in the process of moving.” You tell him, opening your eyes again and looking at the books. Most of the titles are in foreign languages, so you guess that Sammy must be bilingual. “Oh, yeah? Going somewhere bigger and better than your last place?” You give a small smile and chuckle softly. “Exactly the opposite, as fate would have it. I tend to move around a lot, so I usually live in small places.” “Sammy and I move around a lot too.” He gets up and rinses out the washcloth in the sink. He comes back over to you and opens the first aid kit. “Any particular reason why?” He thinks about this and shrugs as he looks through the bandages. “We like to travel all over the country.” You have a feeling that there's more to it than that, but you decide not to pry. “Have you been to all the states?” “Most of them. Conveniently, we haven't visited the tropical states, and yet, I'm not opposed to piña coladas and getting caught in the rain.” He jokes, flashing a smile. He gently pats a large bandage down over the scratches on your arm. “Alright, you're all set.” He says and closes the first aid kit. “I can't thank you enough, Dean.” You stand up and lock eyes with your cat, giving him a warning glare. He meows in response to the look and lets you pick him up without a fight this time. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?” He thinks on this for a few seconds and a soft smirk pulls one corner of his mouth up. “You could go out for drinks with me on Thursday night.” “Oh?” You raise your eyebrows in pleasant surprise, fighting back a large grin. “I could pick you up, say…seven?” He offers. You nod slowly, pretending to think it over. “Alright.” You agree, heading toward the front door. “Oh, and when you do pick me up on Thursday, you'll want to go to room 304.” “Room 304, got it.” He opens the door for you and gives you one last smile. “Goodnight, Dean.” You step outside the motel room and turn to face him, returning his smile. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

[burdenedwithgloriousimagines]

Title: Places Author: Admin Winchester Word Count: 869 Character(s): Dean Sam (pairing) Reader’s Gender: Female Summary: Dean cheats on the reader, which ends in a slightly twisted way. Author’s Notes: Enjoyyyyy!!!!

Time seemed to linger longer than liked, seemingly frozen. Stomach knotting and curdling as the twisted scene in front of her played like an old cassette tape. The wretched sound of moans, groans, and skin against skin penetrated her ears and once loving mind. She stood there, witnessing the act of adultery, heart feeling as though it was shattering.

With an intake of air, she left from her position in the doorway unnoticed from the forsaken act of her lover and his mistress. She descended the stairs, each step breaking her soul even more. Her body trembled with hate, both for him and for herself for being so blind, with sorrow, and with pain.

Collapsing onto a chair in the study, she found herself weeping in anguish. She soon grew spent, eye fluttering closed, sending her into a black bliss of sleep.

(Y/N) arose in a bed not her own. A lifeless body next to her, arm cascaded around her side. A familiar yet foreign cologne filling her head. She turned, relieved to find it wasn’t Dean, but his younger brother asleep in the early morning hours. At the thought of the older Winchester, the burning memory of the wretched night before burned through her mind once more. With a heavy sigh, she carefully unglued herself from Sam.

His figure displaced momentarily, eyes fluttering open at the loss of another person’s body heat. He smiled sadly at the girl, feeling amiss for the anguish she felt. “Thank you…” She whispered, lump in her throat as a wave of tears built behind her eyes. He simply nodded, muttering back, “He left.”

The day carried on unhurriedly, each movement reminding her of the man she once would have taken a bullet for. The aching memory continued to play in her mind for the next week, no presence of the adulterer.

Days to week to a month, San and (Y/N)’s bond grew stronger, attraction turning on like a magnet. She refused to enter her shared room with the missing Dean, other than when her possessions were transferred from that room to the one she now shared with Sam. Sam; now the one who filled her heart with love and joy.

Curled up in each other’s embrace, television playing a movie, neither heard the click on the door lock signaling the arrival of the one and only Dean Winchester. She stood, excusing herself from the warmth of his arms. Walking out of the living room, she bumped into Dean, screeching as sudden realization that her and Sam weren’t the only ones here.

Sam rushed to her side, putting a protective arm around her. When he realized it was Dean, the grip became stronger. “Why are you hear?” Sam growled, eyes growing dark with protection.

“I came to apologize to (Y/N)…” Dean’s voice was weak with shame and guilt, voice trailing off as a realization hit him like a train on its tracks.

“Well, you’re too late. I’ve moved on.” (Y/N) stated hateful tars of pain welling in her eyes.

Dean nodded, swallowing hard, “I don’t want you to take me back… I just want to come back.”

A year later, (Y/N) found herself in a wedding dress, looking in the mirror for one last glance over before having to get in places. She smiled to herself, remembering all the laughs, love, and pain Sam and her have shared for the past year, and how she couldn’t imagine herself happier, only if.

Shaking her head she ridded her mind of the undesirable thoughts. Second guessing running through her mind over the past few months lead her to hope that by marrying Sam, she wouldn’t find herself wondering what if’s with Dean.

A rattle of knocking on the door brought her out of her thoughts, “Come in…” She called, pulling herself together before someone saw her exterior cracking.

It took every fiber in her bones to keep her face happy and uplifting when Dean walked in, decked in a suit and bow tie. Biting her lip, the thoughts she tried so hard to push away resurfaced. “Hey…” he said gruffly, still walking on egg shells around you.

She smiled genuinely at him, “Hey. You look good.” (Y/N) said these words partially meaning them and partially wanting to break the ice.

“You look better.” The words fell from his mouth before he could catch them and he burned a light crimson now. “I well…” He sighed, “I’m happy your happy now, (Y/N)… I just wish it was me making you happy. I’m sorry about what I did and I will be ‘til the day I die… I guess all I can do right now if just sit on the side and be grateful you don’t hate me anymore.”

Her eyes began to water, shaking her head in denial, “If you would of told me this 10 months ago, I would be walking down the aisle to you. “ She was just about to continue when her father knocked on the door and walked into,

“Places everyone.”

“I hope you know your place, Dean…” Was the last thing she said to him before walking down the aisle to the man she thought she was sure she loved.

[burdenedwithgloriousimagines]

Title: To The Moon and Back Author: Admin Winchester Word Count: 1063 Character(s): Dean (pairing) Sam (mentioned) Reader’s Gender: Female Summary: Some unintentional actions lead to some heartache. Author’s Notes: TW: Relationship Abuse It is a slap to the face and that is all. If that will trigger any trauma please do not read.

Glass shattered along the hallway floor; Vases broken, picture frames thrown. Dean and (Y/N) have been going at it for the last two hours. One mistake sent this once loving couple into a whirl of rage and hurt. Reality hitting them as they realized how much they were willing to sacrifice for each other.

The only sound that was heard in the abandoned box of a structure was the sound of a group of possessed woman speaking in Latin. The room dimly illuminated by the light of the candles surrounding them. A bowl filled with a fowl substance placed between the trios of women whom were doing the Devil’s handiwork against their will.

Sam was perched above ground in a shadowed corner of the factory room, scoping out the scene. Dean and (Y/N) in hide out until the right moment. Silence soon grew over the eerie setting, causing the once already ominous feeling to turn near sinister. “We now your there.” A demonic voice called in the couple’s direction.

Dean gripped at (Y/N)’s wrist, ready to diminish any being willing to harm his lover. “We know there  more than just one of you.” Another voice called. “We know one of you are a female. Just what we need for our sacrifice.” The last one called.

In a flash charcoal smog and maniacal laughter, the three hunters were now tied down to columns. Each witch possessed a spot in front of each hunter. “The perfect girl to use. She’s pure enough but still sinister in ways.” The witch before (Y/N) called to her fellow beings.

“Don’t you lay a hand on her you grimy pieces of shit!” Dean spat, earning a slap from the witch that stood before him. There was a groan from Dean’s end and (Y/N) looked at him worriedly. Sam was doing everything he could to draw as little attention to him, trying to outsmart the fiendish serpentine with a diabolical plan.

“Do whatever you want to me just leave her be.” Dean said, voice steady. The witches turn to one another and (Y/N) looked at Dean and shook her head. He simply nodded his. Her heart sunk and her mind became determined. She knew Dean was ready to sacrifice himself for her, but if she could sacrifice herself, she could turn on the witches before it was too late. The chances were slim are success, but her will to keep Sam and Dean alive was greater.

“You’ll do.” One witch turned to him, making his way to him. (Y/N) swallowed hard, looking at him forgivingly before yelling, “Just take me. I’m the one you want.”

The witches snickered, “Even better.” They made their way to her, untying her and allowing her to walk ahead of them. Sam caught on to her actions, Dean’s mind fogged by the fact that he thought he was going to watch the woman he love die before him.

“Hey crazy hags! How about sacrificing all of us? Theirs three of you, you can each do one and get it done faster.” Sam called.

Dean’s eyes widened, pupils enlarging to the size of his iris. The witches stopped to debate for a moment, giving (Y/N) the opportunity to rum to Dean’s side, cutting the rope with the pocket knife she kept in her bra. Dean pulled himself up, glaring at (Y/N) before attacking the witches, allowing (Y/N) to free the reins on Sam’s wrists, allowing the hunters to fight.

Everything worked out fine in the end…

Or so Sam and (Y/N) thought.

Now, nearly two hours later, (Y/N) and Dean were going at each other’s throat, screaming at each other words that were starting to become incoherent. “Why is it such a big deal? Sam knew what I was doing and we made it out alive.” She persisted, voice louder than she anticipated.

Dean let out a low growl sound, “What if he didn’t though?” Was his only response.

She grunted in defeat, “I’m leaving.” (Y/N) attempted to walk past Dean, a ping of pain against her cheek immobilizing her in mid walk. Tears welted in her eyes as she looked in fear at the man she loved. He swallowed hard, tears building in his, eyes wide with regret and realization.

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t risk losing you and I didn’t know what to do and…”

“No excuses…” She croaked out, voice cracking. “You’re afraid of losing me yet you hit me…” She let out a shaky breath, “I am going to our room to sleep. You will not sleep in that bed with me. I swear to Hell Dean, if I find you in that bed when I wake I won’t even think about forgiving you.” With that, she sulked away, tears streaming down her face.

(Y/N) woke to an empty bed in the morning, heart ripping out of her chest at the memory. Standing, she looked in the mirror on the far side of her and Dean’s bedroom, glad to see no whelp or bruise left by his hand. She didn’t like the feeling of waking up alone, but she couldn’t bear the thought of waking up next to him after his actions.

She went to the adjourning bathroom, bathing, brushing her teeth and getting ready for the long day ahead. She opened the door, to exit her bedroom, only to find an unconscious Dean leaning against the wall adjacent to the door. An empty bottle of whiskey next to him accompanied the regret he felt that was given away by his tear stained face.

A sigh left the girls mouth. She knelt down, shaking him vigorously to wake him, “Dean, come on… Let’s get in bed…” She repeated herself a few times until he groggily said, “But you hate me.”

Her heart hurt more at his words, “I don’t hate you, you big oaf. Now come get in bed before I do start to hate you.” She stood first, then offering leisure and balance to him as he managed to get up and stumble over to the bed.

They laid in silence for some time before he began to wake from sleep once more, “I’m sorry…” He whispered into her hair. “I know it’s not easy but I hope you still love me.”

She was quiet at first, before biting her lip and saying, “For always to the moon and back… “

[doomedbrothers]

+ (Pt. 2)

(A/N: This is a continuation of a request. It had gotten too lengthy so I split it into two.)

Part 1: ✿

+ (Pt. 2)

“Uncle Sam?” you say quietly, breaking the fifteen minute silent streak.

He looks up at you, a questioning look on his face.

“I’m scared.” you admit. You were. You were still practically a kid yourself, how were you supposed to have one?

Sam stands up and takes a seat next to you. “We’ll figure this out, alright? All of us.”

You look up at him with wary eyes. You weren’t so sure. “What if he kicks me out?”

“What? Dean? You honestly think your dad would kick you out?” Sam asks, disbelief evident in his voice.

“My mom’s parents kicked her out.” you say quietly.

“Well that isn’t going to happen, I promise you that. You are not going anywhere. Neither am I, and neither is Dean. Okay?” he says sincerely, his eyes searching yours.

You nod despite not entirely believing him and return to staring at your hands.

Sam remains seated next to you and the two of you sit in silence until the Impala is heard outside.

“It’s going to be okay.” Sam assures you when he catches the panicked look on your face.

You nod, not fully believing him. There was nothing okay about this situation.

Dean walks in a few minutes later. As he walks down the stairs he furrows his eyebrows in confusion at what he finds. “What’s going on?” he asks, looking at both you and Sam oddly.

“Dean, Y/N has something she needs to tell you.” Sam says.

“And that would be?” Dean asks cautiously, walking over to stand in front of the couch.

“You might want to sit down.” Sam adds.

“Y/N?” your father asks, his tone growing more and more cautious by the minute.

You nod, hoping he would take Sam’s advice and sit down.

You hadn’t met his eyes yet, you couldn’t. Instead you were focusing on a loose thread in the carpet at your feet.

You hear your father inhale deeply and take a seat on the chair opposite the couch. “Okay, I’m sitting. What’s going on?”

While waiting for Dean to get home you’d been trying to prepare yourself to tell him, but now, with him sitting just a few feet away from you, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t manage to get your vocal chords to produce two simple words so you just shake your head instead.

Sam places his hand on your back and begins to rub small circles, saying, “It’s okay.”

“Would one of you please tell me what’s going on?” Dean asks, sounding extremely concerned and confused.

You could feel both of their eyes on you, waiting for you to speak. “I’m pregnant.” you say, your voice practically inaudible, your eyes glued to the floor.

“Come again?” Dean asks.

“I’m pregnant.” you repeat, slightly louder, your voice breaking a bit.

When you don’t hear anything, you lift your eyes enough to see Dean. He was pissed.

“Go to your room.” he says firmly, his voice oddly lacking in emotion.

“What? Dad-” you begin, only to have him cut you off.

“I said go to your room.” he repeats, his voice louder, firmer, angrier, this time.

Without making eye contact you stand up and walk towards your room, your head hung low. 

The two brothers wait until you’re out of earshot to speak.

“Dean-” Sam begins.

“You knew.” Dean says, his jaw clenched. He didn’t know what to do, how to process what his daughter had just told him, his teenage daughter.

“She just told me, Dean. But you can’t do this, you can’t just send her to her room.”

“She’s my daughter, yes I can.” Dean replies, anger still very evident in his voice.

“But you don’t want to.” Sam says, doing his best to figure out how to defuse the situation before it exploded.

“That’s not up to you, Sam.” Dean retorts tightly.

“No, it’s not but making sure that that girl is okay is.”

“She’s not your kid.”

“No, she’s my niece, not my kid, she’s yours and she’s scared, Dean.” Sam says.

“And I’m not? This is exactly what I never wanted to happen. It happened to her mother… it wasn’t supposed to happen to her.” Dean says, some of the anger in his voice giving way to fear.

“And when it happened to her mother, when it happened to Grace, her parents kicked her out. Y/N is scared you might do the same.”

“What?” Dean asks, looking at Sam with hurt in his eyes. How could you think he’d ever abandon you?

“That’s what she told me, Dean. That’s why you can’t just send her to her room. You have to talk to her, be there for her. This- this whole thing is messy, and it’s not going to be easy, but she needs you more than anything right now.”

Dean closes his eyes while what his brother had just said sinks in. Sam was right. Y/N needs him. He then nods and walks away, headed for his daughters room.

As he reaches the door, muffled sobs can be heard from the hallway. A pang of guilt hits him, knowing that he was at least part of the reason you were crying. Not bothering with a knock, he turns the doorknob and walks in, finding you face down on your bed, your pillow over your head. The sight before him makes him feel even worse. He hated seeing you so upset, so hurt, and he especially hated being part of the cause. Biting his bottom lip he moves forward, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Y/N…”

“Go away.” you mumble.

“No, I’m not going to go away. We need to talk.” Dean says firmly, authoritatively.

At the tone of his voice you remove the pillow from your head, turn yourself over, and slowly sit up. “Just do it already then.” you say, preparing yourself for the worst as you wipe away the remaining tears on your face.

“Do what?” Dean asks, not knowing what you meant.

“Yell, scream, kick me out.” you reply sadly, your eyes avoiding his. You hadn’t made eye contact with him since he’d gotten home.

“You think I’m going to kick you out?” your father asks, sounding like he’d just been kicked in the stomach.

You nod, your eyes focused on the chipping nail polish on your fingernails.

“Hey, look at me.” Dean begins, bringing his hand to your chin and firmly but gently lifting your gaze to him, forcing you to look him in the eye. “I could never do that to you, you hear me? Never.”

Looking into your father’s eyes, you could see your emotions mirrored almost perfectly. “That’s what grandma and grandpa did to mom.” you reply.

“I am not either of them. You are my daughter and I am never, ever, turning my back on you, ever.” Dean insists. 

You swallow hard, trying to will yourself not to burst into tears again, and say, “I’m scared.”

“I know. But you are not alone. You have me and you have Sammy. We are going to be here for you every step of the way. Whatever it is you decide to do, we’ll be behind you one hundred percent, okay?” Dean says, his eyes glossy from unshed tears.

You nod, barely composing yourself. You were seconds away from crumbling entirely.

Your father picks up on that and adjusts himself on the bed before pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

At that, you lose it. You’d prepared yourself for anger, hostility, complete abandonment, from your father, not this. More tears begin to cascade down your cheeks.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. It’s all going to be okay. I’m here.” Dean says soothingly, doing his best to comfort you.

You nod slightly, trying to believe what he was telling you. You weren’t sure it was going to be okay for a while, but at least you had both your dad and your uncle by your side. And that, well that made you feel like maybe someday everything would be okay again. 

[doomedbrothers]

+

(A/N: This got away from me a bit so I'll write a part two where they tell Dean. Everyone needs more protective daddy Dean in their lives.)

+

You were up all night, tossing and turning, replaying the last time you’d had sex over and over again in your head, trying to figure out what happened. Then you started to panic, thinking about telling your dad. He was going to be so mad, so disappointed. It was exactly what had happened to your mother, practically down to a T. Your dad, Dean, had been in town on a hunt and met your mom, who wasn’t much older than you at the time. Sure enough, nine months later, there you were. And now, seventeen years later, you’re in the same position. Except you’re the hunter, your mother wasn’t.

By the time your dad knocks on your door around 6:30 to tell you to get ready for school, you’d decided you were going to fake being sick. It wasn’t that hard to do, you were miserable and felt pretty sick anyway.

“Y/N? You up?” Dean says through the door.

You don’t reply, knowing he’d come in then.

The doorknob turns seconds later and the silhouette of your father comes into sight, his figure only illuminated by the hallway lights. He flips on the light and you flinch slightly at the unwelcomed light tugging you out of your blanket of darkness. “Come on, you’re going to be late.”

You shake your head and cough, not trusting your voice.

He furrows his eyebrows in concern and walks over to your bed, perching himself on the edge. Dean brings his hand to your forehead and frowns. “You’re a little warm. How do you feel?” he asks, looking at you with fatherly concern.

You cough again and manage to choke out, “Not good.”

“Hm.” he says softly, his head tilted slightly in thought. “What hurts?” he asks a minute later.

You cough again, gesturing to your throat and your head.

“I’ll be back.” he says, standing up.

Your dad returns shortly with a thermometer.

He takes your temperature and says, “99 on the dot. You’re not that warm. You sure you can’t go to school?”

He really did look worried and you felt awful about it. If that’s how he looked when you were sick, how was he going to look when he finds out what’s really wrong?

“Can I,” you begin, coughing again before continuing, “Can I just stay home?”

He bits his bottom lip, like he was trying to decide if he should let you stay home, and then says, “Fine. But you stay in bed, got it? I have to go out for a while but Sam will be here. Do you need me to get you anything?”

You were about to shake your head to tell him you didn’t, but you were a bit cold. “An extra blanket?” you ask softly.

Dean nods and turns on his heels, returning with a blanket two minutes later. He then walks out, shutting off the light, and closing the door behind him.

After mulling things over for another two hours, you decide to get up and head to the kitchen. Your stomach was practically screaming at you to eat, you couldn’t ignore it any longer.  You manage to slip into the kitchen unnoticed. Your father had left and your uncle was probably in the library. Despite it being only a quarter to nine in the morning, you had this odd craving for chocolate. So instead of reaching for cereal, you go into the freezer. Just as you were pulling out the chocolate ice cream there’s a noise at the doorway.

Sam clears his throat and you whirl around, nearly dropping the container of ice cream from your hands. “You scared me.”

He narrows his eyes slightly, looking you over with what seemed like suspicion. “What are you doing?”

“I, uh, I was hungry.” you say quietly, leaning against the now closed freezer door, having put the ice cream back.

“No, what are you doing? You’re not sick, Y/N, what’s going on?” your uncle says, leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed.

You open your mouth to protest but he stops you.

“Don’t even try. I know you and I know when you’re hiding something or hiding from something. What is it?”

Your face must have given you away because his face softens and he walks closer to you, stopping only a few steps away. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asks much more softly, his face now riddled with concern.

You shake your head, unable to speak. You couldn’t. What were you supposed to say? How could you tell him? He would be so disappointed.

“You can tell me.” he says gently.

You shake your head again, averting your eyes, and mumble, “You’d hate me.”

Your uncle brings his hand to your chin, gently raising your gaze back to him, and firmly says, “There isn’t a thing you could say that would make me hate you, you got that? Just tell me what’s going on.”

Looking into his eyes you could see how worried he was. You could also see he meant what he said. So you swallow hard, preparing yourself to finally say it out loud. “I’m… pregnant.” you say, your voice just above a whisper.

Sam drops his hands and closes his eyes, sighing heavily, and then brings one hand to his face. He was speechless.

“See? You hate me.”

His eyes snap open, locking on yours, and he says, “I do not hate you. I could never hate you.”

“Well I do.” you mumble.

“Hey, don’t say that. This… this isn’t good, Y/N, but we’ll figure it out, alright? Everything’s going to be fine.”

You shake your head as a tear escapes.

Sam pulls you over to him, wrapping his arms tightly around you and rubbing small circles against your back. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” he says soothingly.

You rest your head against his chest and let the tears you’d been holding back fall.

Sam continues to hold you for a few minutes just letting you cry. Once you’d stopped he pulls back, placing his hands on your shoulders. “We’re going to figure this out alright? When Dean gets home, you have to tell him. But we’re going to figure it out. You’re not alone, okay? You have me and you have your dad.”

“He’s going to hate me too.” you say quietly, choking back a sob, trying not to burst into tears again.

“He is not. Will he be disappointed? Probably. But your dad could never hate you, Y/N, you know that, right?” your uncle says.

You don’t say anything, you just slowly nod.

“Come on, let’s go wait for him in the living room. I’ll tell him with you if you want.”

You nod and allow your uncle to lead you out into the living room.

This was going to be a long day. And you didn’t even get your ice cream.

There is a part two for this that can be found here

[doomedbrothers]

Baking With Winchesters

So vodkasam won my fic giveaway and this was her request, the title pretty much says it all.

Baking With Winchesters

“When are you going to make pie again?” Dean asks you.

“If you want pie so bad, make it yourself.” you reply, growing tired of his constant requests for pie.

“And have him burn the kitchen down in the process? Dean baking isn’t a good idea, Y/N.” Sam adds in.

You let out a huff of breath before saying, “Both of you, kitchen now.”

Both brothers tilt their heads at you, silently asking, ‘What?’ 

“You heard me.” you state, giving them a hard stare.

The brothers share a glance before heading for the kitchen.

“What are we doing?” Dean asks after all three of you are standing in the kitchen of the bunker.

“We are baking. I am not your personal baker. I am your friend. And as your friend, I am going to teach you how to bake so you can bake what you want instead of bugging me about it.” you say.

They both look at you for a minute, like they didn’t think you were being serious, but when they realize you are, Sam asks, “What are we baking?”

“Cookies. That’s probably the safest thing to start with. Now get out the ingredients you think we need for chocolate chip cookies.” you say. This was going to be interesting.

The brothers share another glance before splitting up and moving around the kitchen.

After ten minutes, they have everything on the counter. “There.” Dean states.

You look the ingredients over, mentally going over your checklist in your head. The recipe for chocolate chip cookies was one that was permanently engraved in your brain. They’d gotten the butter, flour, eggs, chocolate chips, and vanilla out.

“Not quite.” you say.

“What? What are we missing?” Sam asks. He seemed sure that they had everything.

“Four things.”

Sam and Dean look at each other yet again, clearly not seeing what they were missing. Great. They can’t even figure out that they’re missing sugar. You can’t make cookies without sugar, at least not good ones, you think to yourself.

“How do you plan on making cookies without sugar?” you say finally, seeing that they weren’t going to figure it out on their own.

“Oh.” they both say quietly.

“What kind? Brown or white?” Sam asks.

“You mean brown or granulated? What do you think?” you say. It was kind of fun for you, watching them sweat it. They were two big, scary, tough, badass hunters and here they were in the kitchen looking entirely lost and almost a little scared when faced with baking cookies.

“Brown?” Sam says.

“Granulated?” Dean guesses at the same time.

They share another confused glance before looking back at you and hesitantly saying, “Both?” 

You nod and watch as the two scramble about in search of the sugars.

Dean surfaces with the brown sugar and Sam finds the granulated. Knowing they wouldn’t think of the last two ingredients, you walk over and pull the baking soda out of one of the cabinets along with a box of instant vanilla pudding mix.

Dean’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as he asks, “Pudding?”

“It’s my little known secret ingredient.” you reply with a slight smirk.

Now that all the ingredients were out, you instruct them on how to start. Everything was going okay, the dough was coming together and there had been no major disasters. That is until it came time to add the chocolate chips.

“Okay, now chocolate chips are last. Measure out two cups and stir them in.” you say.

Since Sam had mixed the dry ingredients in, it was Dean’s turn to mix. “Stir? With a spoon? Isn’t this faster?” Dean says, pointing to the blender.

“If you say so, you two are the bakers today.” you say, concealing a smirk. You knew exactly what was going to happen when Dean turned the electric mixer on and tried to mix the chocolate chips in. They were going to fly everywhere. But it would be fun to watch, so you remain silent.

“Mixer it is then.” Dean states as Sam pours in the two cups of chocolate chips.

Dean turns the mixer on, on high of course, and within seconds chocolate chips are flying everywhere, a chunk of them pelting Sam right in the chest.

You bring a hand to your mouth, trying to stifle your laughter. Dean was scrambling to turn the mixer off and Sam looked entirely unamused.

Dean narrows his eyes at you and says, “You knew this would happen.”

“I said stir. You’re the one who chose the mixer despite that.” you respond, maintaining the most composure you could muster.

The Winchesters share an evil glance before setting their sights on you. “Let’s get her, Sammy.” Dean states.

Oh no. I’m screwed. You grab the bag of chocolate chips before darting to the other side of the kitchen. While dodging them, you begin pelting chocolate chips at them.

Eventually they corner you and Sam lifts you up over his shoulder, forcing you to drop the bag of chocolate chips. “Got her.” Sam says. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was smirking at his success.

“I think you know what we have to do.” Dean states.

“Guys, no, we can talk about this.” you say, the tone in Dean’s voice telling you exactly what they had planned to do.

“Oh I don’t think so.” Dean says.

Sam takes a few steps and sets you down in the corner, leaving you nowhere to escape to. Both of them were staring at you, ready to pounce. You knew what was coming and you couldn’t escape it.

Dean takes a step towards you and begins to tickle you, Sam joining in shortly. They knew just how ticklish you were and how much you hated it, providing them with the perfect torture.

“Guys! Stop!” you manage to shout in between shrieks of laughter.

You try to get them back, but they weren’t nearly as ticklish and therefore it wasn’t as effective. After a few minutes you manage to slip out from in between them and dart over to the bowl cookie dough before they could catch you again.

They move to continue tickling you but you put a hand up and say, “One more step and there will be no cookies.”

The brothers glance between the cookie dough and you before raising their hands in surrender.

“Smart move.” you say, grabbing a spoon. “Now, where were we?”

“You’re evil.” Dean says.

“I’m evil? You two are the ones who just attacked me!”

“You were practically asking for it.” Sam adds.

You just shake your head and hand Dean the spoon. “Why do I still put up with you two?”

“Because you love us.” Dean says, taking the spoon from you and beginning to mix in the chocolate chips that had managed to stay in the bowl.

“Yeah, sure, that. Now make me some cookies.” you respond, taking a seat at the counter.

“Patience.” Dean scolds, pointing the spoon at you in a reprimanding manner.

“Oh how the tables have turned.” you quietly muse to yourself as you sit back and watch the Winchesters finish the cookies.

[doomedbrothers]

In Case (Part 3)

(A/N: After a good 15 or more requests for a part three, I sat down and wrote one. In case you missed it, I did start a fic based off of this idea. The first chapter is basically part one and two fused into one with an ofc named Lia instead of reader insert. If you want to check it out, you can here.)

Part 1: ✿ Part 2: ✿

In Case (Part 3)

“Alright, I managed to find an old pair of sweatpants that shrunk and the smallest shirt of mine I had and set them in there. There’s soap, shampoo, and towels too. Just shout for me when you’re done, okay?” Dean says just outside the bathroom door. 

Finally, after a good thirty minute shower, you’re satisfied with your cleanliness and step out of the shower, quickly wrapping a towel around your body and one around your hair.  After drying off, you change into the clothes Dean had left you and then towel dry your hair the best you could.

You open the door and step out into the hallway, deciding to walk around and find Dean on your own instead of shouting. You make your way back to the living room and find both brothers watching TV. They hadn’t heard you walk up so you clear your throat. Both of them jump slightly and whip their heads around to face you.

“Jesus, Y/N, I didn’t even hear you.” Dean says, now standing up and walking towards.

“Sorry.” you respond.

“Come on, let’s get you some food.”

He heads down a hallway and you trail after him, following him into the kitchen.

“Alright, sit. What do you want?” he says, pointing to one of the chairs. 

“Dean I can-”

“Nope. Sit. I’ll get you something.” Dean says, cutting you off.

“Fine.” you mumble and take a seat. “Just whatever is fine. Not a burger though, not a fan.”

“You don’t like burgers?” he asks in complete disbelief. It was as if you’d said you thought unicorns were real. 

“Nope. A sandwich is good.”

Dean just shakes his head and goes to the fridge.

A few minutes later he plops a plate down in front of you and a can of pop. He’d made a turkey sandwich with lettuce and tomato and put some chips on the plate. “Eat.”

You wanted to say you could take care of yourself, tell him he didn’t need to baby you, but you knew it would get you nowhere. You’d just gotten out of Purgatory, there was no way he was going to let you convince him you were fine. 

“So.” Dean states, taking a seat across from you.

“So.” you reply, popping a chip into your mouth.

“What happened? I mean, what took you so long? Cas… well Cas said he’d lost you down there. Said you’d seemed to have given up.” Dean says.

“Cas is okay?” you ask. 

“He’s alive, back to being an angel, but don’t change the subject.”

“I did. I did pretty much give up. I mean, I fell back, Dean. Not because of you, not because of me, but I did. So I took that as a sign that I wasn’t meant to get out. So I stayed. I walked everywhere, eventually losing Cas. That’s why it took so long.” you explain, taking a bite of the sandwich. 

“Y/N… How could you think you deserved to be there?” Dean says, looking at you with heavy eyes.

“Because I did. Can we not talk about it? Please?” you say, hoping he would leave it be.

He hesitates for a minute, studying your face before answering, “Fine.” 

You finish eating in silence.

“Now you should get some sleep.” Dean states, tossing your plate in the garbage.

“Dean, you don’t have to take care of me.”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to.” he responds.

You sigh and follow him into the hallway.

“Alright, now I know what it’s like to come back from Purgatory. It’s not easy to adjust, and it’s certainly not easy to sleep. So do you want to sleep in one of the other rooms or do you want to sleep with me?” Dean says, turning to face you.

“What?” 

“Do you want to sleep alone or stay with me?” he repeats.

“You don’t have to do that.” you say. You felt like you were a burden on him already, weighing him down. All he’d been doing since the bus station was worrying about you or taking care of you.

“Again, maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to. I just need you to tell me what you want.” 

You glance down the hall to one of the empty rooms and then back towards Dean’s room. He was right. It wasn’t easy to sleep. And maybe you didn’t want to be alone. “I think um, I think I’ll stay with you if you uh, if you don’t mind.”

“Come on.” Dean says, extending his hand to you.

You reach out and lace your fingers between his, allowing him to lead you into his room. 

“Just try and get some sleep, alright? I’ll be right here if you wake up.” Dean says. He then pulls off his shirt and gets in on one side of the bed, patting the other side to indicate for you to get in too.

You do so, lying down so that you were facing him. You let out a deep breath, trying to allow yourself to finally relax. Being in Purgatory, you were always on edge, every second of every minute of every day.

Dean hesitantly wraps an arm around you, making sure you were comfortable with it. When you don’t reject it, he pulls you closer to him. You adjust your head so that it was against his chest. He was warm and he felt safe. And he was, you knew that Dean wouldn’t let anything happen to you. So with him, you were safe. Safe was something you hadn’t been in a long time. That thought alone puts your mind at ease and you close your eyes, letting the sound of Dean’s heartbeat lull you to sleep.