KEIRA

Hey I’m Keira .ᐟ ✶ she/her ✶ 8teen

I ❤︎ Jesus, coffee, music, and fictional characters with all my heart! ✶ zero hate tolerated here! ✶ amateur writer?? ✶ non-explicit content (just personal preference! I don’t judge <3) ✶ anti-AI ✶ being a yearner + hopeless romantic is my full-time job ✶ mainly Supernatural related cuz I’m obsessed (since ‘24) ✶ both a Sam girl and Dean girl, depends on the day ✶ w*ncest DNI!!

my spotify ✶ my pinterest

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 disclaimer .ᐟ I’m a long time fanfic enjoyer but I am new to writing!! (just an AuDHD girly who grew up hating reading/writing then fell in love with it later) so I will not be consistent on this acc. I swear I’m not trying to be like one of the many amazing fanfic writers on here 😭 this is just a place for my fangirl brain to thought-vomit

synopsis ٠࣪⭑ storms tend to make your pulse quicken and your senses go haywire, especially ones as severe as this, but don’t worry your best friend (or more?) is here to comfort you.

contents ٠࣪⭑ Sam Winchester x reader (f), unestablished relationship, bsf!sam, line between friendship and more is blurred, soft reader implied, fluffy, r is scared of lightning/storms (self indulgent tbh), a dash of angst, 1.7k word count

notes ٠࣪⭑ wrote this in honor of the crazy storm that had me shaking in my boots the other day, if only Sam were real! Also I found zero storm related comfort fics for Sam or Dean so I wrote one myself lol

Thunder rolled loudly across the sky, rattling the motel room every so often, with lightning shooting across the sky and almost fooling you that it was day. You tried to ignore the rumbles outside, paying no mind to the raindrops pounding on the tin roof or the lights flickering on and off, that weren’t caused by the supernatural for once. And yet, it all made your stomach churn and your chest tight.

No matter how hard you focused on the book in your lap, no matter how much you tried to tough it out, your eyebrows furrowed and your hands ever so slightly started to shake.

It was tragic really. A professional killer who’s slain hundreds of monsters and spirits without batting an eye, is shaken up by weather. You knew it was silly and irrational, and you honestly love storms too, the rain made your soul feel cozy and the sounds were the perfect ambiance for reading and sipping cappuccinos. Still, the fear of being struck by lightning or getting caught up in horrible weather-related disasters prevailed, even when you tried to rationalize the situation.

You didn’t know it yet, but Sam could sense your distress. He saw the way you flinched a little when the thunder roared, the almost inaudible gasp that left your lips when the room was lit up by lighting, and the way you’ve been reading the same page of your book for about twenty minutes.

After he decides he’s watched you suffer enough, he abandons his own reading material and makes his way over to where you were curled up in the middle of your shared bed, your knees tucked up and your shoulders scrunched all the way up to your ears.

“you okay?” Sam murmured in that gentle way of his, the tone he used when he wanted to address something but he didn’t want to embarrass anyone, you knew that tone very well.

Your eyes flicked up to him, your stress-induced trance being broken by the sound of his voice.

“huh?— oh, yeah totally…” you murmured, trying your hardest to sound convincing, and failing. “why wouldn’t I be?”

Sam eyes flickered down to your lap, where your hands wouldn’t stop fiddling with themselves against the pages of your book, the skin around your cuticle becoming victim to your masochistic nails. You followed his gaze, your hands separating far too quickly when you realized. You looked away, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“is it the storm?” He asked, not condensing, not joking, not accusatory— just… curious, caring.

“I- pfft no, what? that’s silly—“ before you could continue your terrible attempt at lying to your best friend, the power shut off accompanied by a loud BOOM!

The little squeal of terror that you let out was embarrassing, to say the least. The darkness flooded the small motel room like a thick black goo, its chilling presence akin to the fear entering your bones. The rooms only luminance being the ominous cracks of lightning that flickered before disappearing and coming back again unannounced.

You closed your eyes and covered your ears, book flying off your lap and landing somewhere with a measly thud, but it was as if nothing had changed. You could still hear the thunder and the trees swaying fiercely in the wind, the lightning still glowing even behind your eyelids.

“hey— hey, it’s okay” Sam comforted, hands searching and finding you quickly even in the dark. He sat close next to you, his big hands holding your shoulders, speaking to you so closely that you could feel his breath fan over your nose.

He murmured your name, gently stealing your attention. You could barely see his face, only catching glimpses of the curves of his face with every strike running across the sky. 

“you’re okay, I promise, the storm should pass soon enough…”

You didn’t nod, just stared pathetically at where you thought his face was.

“the power going out is normal, especially for some place like this, I mean I don’t really expect a motel that hasn't changed their bedding since the early nineties to have a backup generator installed”

That pulled a soft huff that resembled a laugh out of you, bringing a slight smile to Sam’s empathetic expression. His hands moved to rest atop your knees, which they immediately paled small in comparison to his palms.

“stay right here, I'm gonna get some lights and candles, alright?” his voice came out smooth and achingly tender, if it were any other situation your cheeks would take on a reddish hue. You just nodded before realizing he can't see you.

“okay” you breathed, missing the warmth of his proximity the second he moved away.

It didn’t take long for Sam’s face to light up behind a flame, he was typically the most organized of you three, so naturally he knew exactly where to look for flashlights and mismatched sized candles in his duffle even in the dark. Plus it helped that always carried a lighter in his pocket, just in case he needed it alongside his lock picking kit and array of hidden pocket knives, of course.

Sam set up little candles by you first, grouping them together on the nightstand and lighting them before putting more in the bathroom and some on the table by the door. He came back to sit next to you, the storm still going strong outside, but now his face was softly lit by candlelight, highlighting his features in a way that made you feel just a little warmer and a little safer.

He handed you your flashlight, yes the one from your duffle, with that goofy and achingly gentle smile on his lips.

“I didn’t know you were afraid of storms” he murmured, no mocking locution in his voice.

You shied away a little in embarrassment. Your shoulders sagging with a breathy sigh leaving past your lips.

“I know it’s stupid and irrational… and ironic… but I just get so freaked out— and my mind starts spinning and thinking about all the horrible things that could happen,”

“It’s not stupid—“ he lightly interrupted you, “not at all,”

You smiled a little, chin resting on your knees, “thanks…”

“I honestly love storms and the rain, but just from afar I guess, they’re just so…” you paused searching for the words.

“uncontrollable?” 

“yes— exactly, they’re uncontrollable and unruly and terrifying because you can’t really do anything to prevent your house from being blown over or getting struck by lightning—“

“hey, hey,“ Sam interrupted again, trying to hide the small smile pulling at his lips because of your rambling.

“I won’t let you get struck by lightning”

You wanted to give him the stink eye, tell him how that’s literally impossible, but you also know that he knows that, and you can’t help but get a fuzzy feeling from his soft insistence.

“Big commitment there, Samuel”

“Well, I guess I’m feeling charitable” he shrugged, causing you to let out a breathy giggle and to gingerly kick (more like tap) his shoulder with your socked foot.

It didn’t take long for another loud crack to ring through the room, the walls trembling just as you were. Sam’s face softened at your sharp breath and the flinch of your body, the fear glazed over your face did something to him.

Before you could shake it off you felt him shift, sitting close enough that your hips touched. His arm made its way behind and around your shoulders, pulling you in. 

You didn’t have it in you to react much, rather you just melted into him. Your eyes squeezing shut and head ducking into him, you could feel the softness of his shirt on your face, his signature Sam smell— a warm, musky smell mixed with cheap bar soap and whatever light yet decadently masculine cologne he wears— filling your senses. You unashamedly tucked yourself into his side, your hand clutching itself more into his shirt with every flash of light that burst through the window.

You both sat there in silence, your body clung to his, his hand rubbing up and down your arm in an attempt to console you while his other rested on your leg, warm and grounding.

“d’you think Dean’s alright?” You asked just above a whisper, your voice muffled against his chest from not having moved from your spot one inch.

“definitely… he’s probably still in a food coma from all the junk he ate earlier” Sam murmured, a little smirk on his lips as he recalled seeing Dean’s arms full of gas station junk food when he went to go get ice for you, Dean mumbling something about how he can eat whatever he wants because he’s got his own motel room, then of course deflecting by telling Sam “don’t have too much fun, lovebirds” with a mocking smirk and wiggling his eyebrows.

“yeah…” you agreed absentmindedly.

“he’d come over here if something was wrong, right?”

Sam frowned a little, giving a gentle squeeze to your arm and muting your name.

“Deans alright, we’re alright, everything’s okay— you’ve got nothing to worry about, not as long as I’m here” he all but whispered the last part.

You opened your eyes, lifting your head a little to look at him.

“you mean that?”

He looked back at you, squeezing your arm again before continuing to rub it, his eyes glued in your softly lit features and wondering how you look even prettier in candlelight.

“yeah, I really do…” 

You smiled a little, grateful and flattered and shy all at once. Your heart did another pitter-patter in your chest. You tucked yourself back into him, forehead resting just below his clavicle.

“I feel safe with you, Sammy”

Your whispered words threw Sam for a loop, his whole body freezing like a deer in headlights. His heart skipped a beat and he’s pretty sure he almost choked on his own breath, but he played it off. Just held you closer, resting his cheek at the top of your head, eyes fluttering shut as he discreetly inhaled the wonderful smell of your girly shampoo.

He desperately and selfishly wished the storm wouldn’t pass anytime soon… just so he can hold you like this a little longer.

contents ٠࣪⭑ Sam Winchester x reader, established relationship, Sam’s in love, major fluff, 422 word count

notes ٠࣪⭑ here’s a little Sam drabble cuz I love him sm and have been dying to write for him, this was written in like 10 min after seeing Sam in a suit in s5 (rewatch) 🤭

“Stop messing with it” you chuckled under your breath, putting your quick makeup applying to an end, making your way over to your struggling boyfriend.

Sam grumbled something under his breath with a huff of slight frustration, his big hand fiddling with the tie around his neck, pulling at the collar in a feeble attempt to get more comfortable.

You called his name, like an owner does to get their puppy’s attention when it’s doing something it shouldn’t but still looks so cute. You wordlessly reached for his collar and flipped it up. Delicate hands undoing the tie completely before adjusting and tying it again, this time looser.

“You always do it too tight,” you murmured, flattening your hands over the tie going down his chest, and flipping the collar back down before doing some final adjustments.

He hasn’t looked away from you the entire time, a small fond smile on his lips and a lovesick look glazed over his eyes. His hand gently rested on your waist, his thumbs mindlessly caressing over your cheap dress-shirt.

“There— very handsome, agent” you smiled, tugging a little on said tie and lifting on your toes to bring him into a kiss.

He kissed you back, smiling into it just like you did— you always made him smile, more than he can remember anyone in his life being able to. His hands tightened just a little on your waist, pulling you closer ever so slightly, given your already close proximity.

Even though you were the one to initiate it, you melted into the kiss as you always did, a quiet contented sigh passing through your lips onto his. Like kissing him was some sort of medicine that you’ve been prescribed to take daily in order to survive.

The kiss didn’t deepen but the moment did, it was stretched out like molasses slowly pouring down into a thick puddle at your feet. You both pulled away just enough for your lips to separate, smile even wider than before. You stayed there just a little longer, foreheads touching, living in the puddle for a moment.

“We better get going” you whispered, pressing a sweet peck to his cheek and stepping back. Flattening his tie once more before throwing on your suit jacket.

“Let’s put those big, beautiful puppy dog eyes to use and milk some information out of people” You chimed, giving a quick playful tap on his behind as you passed, accompanied by a giggle.

Sam just smiled and shook his head, he’s so gone for you.

Hey y’all!! Just popping on here real quick to tell you that I’m not giving up on The Perfect Mistake series!! I’m so sorry it’s taking so long! I honestly didn’t expect it to get as much attention as it has, seeing as I’m new to this whole writing thing (and posting), and I’m honestly so flattered— I just haven’t had much motivation to finish the half-written pt.3 yet 😖 (I lowkey think I’m just scared to mess it up lol) but I hope promise it’ll be out soon enough!!

Also I have a bunch of half written works rn (and I really want to start writing more for Sam!!) so I may or may not be posting other things but don’t worry, I’m not forgetting about TPM!!

headcannons ٠࣪⭑ Dean Winchester x sensitive!reader (f), non-explicit, Deans smitten, lwk self indulgent, no major r look descriptions— I’m so sorry tpm pt3 is taking so long, here’s this while y’all wait and I try to gain more motivation to write!!

٠࣪⭑ The first time he saw your eyes well up out of nowhere made him panic, what had happened so fast to make you so upset? You were just watching a movie! That panic dwindled when he realized the sad emotional scene in said movie was the one that had moved you to tears, his panic was replaced by a soft yet deep fondness for your tender heart. Now, when he looks over at you during any remotely sad scene— from fictional, documentary, unrealistic, sitcom, even animated, whatever it is— he knows he’ll find tears in your eyes and a pout on your lips. He won’t dismiss you or tell you it’s just fake, or to toughen up, he’ll just pull you closer with a gentle smile on his lips, and kiss the top of your head and your tear-damp cheeks.

٠࣪⭑ You guys don’t fight much, which actually comes as quite a surprise to many (especially Sam), but when you do there’s been many a times where tears build in your eyes. Whether it’s from you being angry and upset, or because his voice is even slightly raised towards you, or even because you felt too mean. After you’d both gone your separate ways he’d find you with tear streaked cheeks and a blank expression on your face, often curled up and stewing in your own thoughts. If he were still fuming, even with good reason, it would disappear once he saw you. His heart would clench and his shoulders would drop. “Baby…” he’d practically whisper before making his way to you. Even if you shy away from him, hiding your face, he’d still reach out. Gently and kindly making you focus on him. “m’sorry for raising my voice… didn’t mean to… ‘was just worked up… wasn’t mad at you, sweetheart” his voice so soft and earnest, waiting for your stubbornness to subside before pulling you into him.

٠࣪⭑ (for my fellow girlies with PMDD) Your Luteal phase kicks your butt every time. As an already sensitive person it’s sometimes a little bit of a whirlwind for Dean, but he can’t imagine how much worse it is for you, he’s not the one who feels like the world is against him, times a million. Like if you two and Sam are out on a hunt, doing normal hunter things, like Dean trying to get information out of a lady. The lady is obviously infatuated with him, I mean who wouldn’t be? But your rational thinking exits the building when you need it most… because on the drive back to the motel, even with Dean's hand on your thigh, you can’t stop thinking about the woman’s hand on his bicep or the way he smiled a little as if he was flattered, you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to the thoughts of “I bet she’s not a soft emotional wreck” and “she looks like she can hold her own” or even “Dean doesn’t actually want someone like me…” Your extra quiet state made Dean ask what was wrong and you stubbornly tried to brush it off before you were back in your shared motel room and you just blew up. A sad, irritated, sensitive, blubbering mess. Dean was patient, then gave you the “I only want you” speech and meant every word, which only made you cry more because now you felt bad for making him feel bad by being too insecure. To which he just kissed you so gently and so all-consuming that you could only think about him, and to shut you up in the nicest way possible.

٠࣪⭑ Dean hates the way your bleeding heart can make you your own enemy, how it can twist things and make you feel so much. But he also adores how you feel so much, and the way your heart is too small to contain all the love you have. He adores the way you crouch down to pet stray kittens in alleys behind diners and beg him to help you take them somewhere warm and safe, he adores how sentimental you can be about things like certain shirts or cups, he adores how you always smile and say hi to little kids and babies as if you knew them personally. He loves how much you love, and he will never take it for granted, especially when it’s directed towards him.

Hey y’all! I promise perfect mistake pt.3 will be out very soon!!! Here’s a collage for the TPM AU in the meantime 💗

ps— thank you everyone for your support!! It’s kinda surreal to write silly fangirl stuff and for people to actually enjoy it, so thank you! And don’t worry, I’m just as excited to see where this story leads XD

taglist ٠࣪⭑ @diorgirl444 @ticklish-leafy-plant @moonz33 @stars-in-h3aven @hopelessbrain @iloveneilperry @jensensswthrt @pomegranateher @angelbysea @valinat @laughsandlivia @uglyinternetkitten @mari-1917 @velyssaraptor @maximuminfluencerstarlight @rafs127 @momentomoribitch

previous chapter ٠࣪⭑ pt.1

chapter contents ٠࣪⭑ baby daddy!Dean x single mom!reader, age gap implied (5yrs), non-explicit, soft Dean, soft/sensitive reader implied, oblivious baby daddy Dean, mentions of loneliness, no major reader appearance descriptions, s8 Dean (vibes/age, not plot), multi part series, 3.2k word count

notes ٠࣪⭑ this is kinda dialogue heavy but I think it fits the story, I didn’t really know the direction to take after part one so I hope you like it! (and dw we’ll get out of the park soon lol)

You felt the wooden bench creak under someone's weight right beside you and your things, already about to move to make more space for the stranger or come up with an excuse to take over the whole bench if they seem creepy.

You turned your face to the coffee cup held out in front of you, then to the person attached to it.

“never got the chance to get you that coffee yesterday” Dean's voice murmured, almost shy, but it was hidden well under that trademark smirk of his.

Your stomach felt weird— whether it was from butterflies or guilt you didn’t know— but your lips pulled into a soft smile anyway.

“I didn’t know the offer still stood, y’know with the whole being a mother thing” you’d quipped, tone soft but you weren’t joking all that much. You took the cup anyway.

“of course it still stood,” he said, his tone oddly gentle, now offering more of a smile than a smirk.

You could feel a warmth bloom on your cheeks— traitors.

“thank you,” you murmured, trying not to meet his eyes too much, the same eyes that you see everyday on your little girl.

To say you were surprised to see him again was an understatement. You thought he’d be out of here by now, or at the least avoiding you since you're obviously not in the usual hookup territory, especially not now. You had a daughter to worry about. Even though you wanted him to stay away for obvious reasons, your soul still craved that attention and rare adult male human interaction, but you wished it wasn’t coming from the accidental father to your child.

Dean sat next to you, your brown and pink floral “mommy bag” as you call it, settled between. The bag that contains anything and everything a child or mama could need while away from home, ranging anywhere from snacks to pain killers to emergency plushies.

You took a sip of the coffee, eyes still primarily on Delaney while she played with her toy horses with another little girl she somehow already made friends with, and you smiled at the taste. Recognizing it was from your favorite cafe, coincidentally it was the one you used to work at. Reckon, there weren’t many coffee shops to choose from, it is a small town after all.

“is it alright? I didn't really know what you liked so I took a guess-” there was that shyness in his voice again.

“no, you’re okay— it’s perfect, thank you.” you murmured with a soft smile, catching his eyes for just a second before turning your attention back to your daughter.

He’d smiled to himself, taking a sip of his own coffee. He watched your gaze, landing on Delaney. He’s not around kids often but her youthful wonder made his chest feel uncharacteristically warm and fuzzy. It was nice to see there were kids that actually got to enjoy their childhood. 

“how old is she?” He murmured, watching her pigtails bounce with every animated movement, “if you don’t mind me askin 'o course” he looked back at you.

A little wave of panic flared in you, but you ignored it. There’s no way he’d connect the dots… hopefully.

“she’ll be five in a few days,” you said with a little smile. This time of year was always so bittersweet. Delaney was growing (too fast in your opinion) and you’re always brought back to her first few days earth-side. Simultaneously, the most lonely and most beautiful days of your life. 

Dean smiled, seeing that little flicker in your eye. Any eldest sibling has gotten a taste of that feeling.

“bittersweet, huh?” He murmured warmly, still looking at you, breaking your train of thought.

“yeah” you replied just above a whisper, looking away again, taking a sip of your coffee and letting the warmth and taste of the drink conquer over your sudden emotions.

 A silence comfortable yet buzzing with tension fell over you two, the sounds of children’s laughter and the squeaky playground equipment filling the air. It was a nice early summer morning, not too hot or muggy, just enough cloud cover and shade that you didn’t need to lather Delaney in sunscreen.

“how’d you know where we were?” You’d inquired after a moment, head turning to look at Dean, now realizing he just might be a stalker.

He froze just a little, scratching the back of his neck with an almost sheepish look.

“I uh— well I saw you the day before yesterday, you were sitting here reading a-and when I’d gotten the guts to say hi yesterday you were here at the same time, so I figured you’d be here today too” he said with a shy grin,

“...I am now realizing how creepy that sounds”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, a chuckle bubbling up without your permission. You shook your head a little with a smile.

“I swear I’m not some stalker—” he said with a soft laugh alongside yours.

“It’s okay I believe you” you murmured with a smile, taking another sip of your coffee, your heart feeling lighter than it should.

“why did the offer still stand, anyway?” You’d asked gently after a moment, “The coffee I mean— I appreciate it of course, but I’m not really in the market for… spending nights with a guy, cause well—” your hand gestured to Delaney who was now galloping and skipping around as if she was riding a horse. You couldn’t help but blurt it out, a shyness in your words, you just needed to know why he’s still around.

Dean was almost caught off guard, not in a bad way but he didn't really know what the answer was himself. There was just something about you that drew him in, even more than years ago, like a moth to a flame. Sure, at first maybe he wanted to have a night like you’d shared before, after all he’s still Dean Winchester the man who can’t be tied down. But… he saw you and your little girl, and he knew he wanted to get to know you. He didn’t even know why he knew, this wasn’t something that happened often, or ever really; but he couldn’t help it or stop it even if he wanted to.

“no, yeah! O-of course— I uh I didn’t” a nervous chuckle left his lips, “I guess I just wanted to talk to you… I hope you don’t think I’m just some douche who just wants to get in your pants… again”

You couldn’t help but smile at his sudden nervousness, he almost sounded like you. Your hand inadvertently reached out and settled on his knee, giving a mindless squeeze for a sort of reassurance. You realized what you were doing and pulled your hand back.

“It’s okay Dean— sorry, I’m just not really used to the adult attention, I guess” you chuckled a little. Looking back at your daughter.

Dean kept looking at you though, a small (now less nervous) smile on his lips. He looked at the way the late morning sun illuminated your hair and made it look like you were almost glowing, his eyes trailed down the slope of your nose and over to the little crinkles by your eyes that appeared when you smiled at your daughter, his gaze lingering on your lips a little before starting all over again.

“I find that hard to believe” he murmured, softer than intended, no smirk or wink or cheesy pickup line attached either. 

Your neck practically snapped to look at him again, catching his eyes that were still glued to you. His intense stare made your stomach flutter and your cheeks pink like some teenager— you’re 28 get ahold of yourself!

“mommy, mommy!” and just like that your trances were broken by a distressed preschooler running towards you.

“what's wrong, baby?” You cooed, reaching for Delaney to sooth whatever caused the frown on her little face.

“my horsie is broken!” her pout worsened with every syllable, she held up the broken pieces. Her mini black plastic stallion and its two severed legs on display.

“aw hunny, I’m sorry, I’m sure we can fix it when we get home” your words only seemed to worsen her anguish.

“hey kiddo— I think I have some superglue in my car, you want me to see if I can fix it for ya?” Dean's voice soothed over Delaney's soft wines.

Her face lit up with hope despite her pout still being intact. She nodded her head with a little “yes, please” and a sniffle, to which he just smiled and made his way to his car, even at a little jog as if it was a real emergency. You watched him open his trunk and search for the little bottle. He still had that same impala, the kinda car that was so sexy and sleek it could even make non-car people jealous.

Sure enough he came back with the glue in hand, crouching down to Delaney's level to assess the situation.

“alright let’s see—“ he took the pieces in his hands, examining them, “don’t worry sweetheart, this is an easy fix, she’ll be back to galloping in no time”

Delaney smiled at that, her big sad eyes looking at him intently as he performed his surgical skills on the toy.

Your heart clenched watching the scene. Grateful Dean helped you avoid a breakdown, but watching the way Delaney looked up at him like he’s a hero just stung. Putting salt in wounds you’d thought had healed. What were the odds they’d ever meet? And what are the odds he’s actually turning out to be a good guy? This has to be a joke. It can’t be real— because if it is then you actually have a reason to mourn the father she could’ve had. It was a lot easier when you chalked him up to being some playboy with a girl in every area code, but he’s proven you wrong this morning alone—

No, stop it. Don’t do that to yourself.

“there ya go, princess, good as new” he said with a smile, handing the horse to Delaney. Her smile brightened, her pigtails bouncing along with her.

“thank youuuu!” She squealed, wrapping her little arms around Dean's neck before running off to resume her playing. Holding up the mended horse like it was a trophy. Dean chuckled a little as he watched her run off. His chest getting that warm feeling again.

You tried to ignore the sting, and it was almost easy because of how absolutely sweet their interaction was.

“thank you, Dean. You didn’t have to do that” you murmured, a grateful smile on your lips nonetheless.

“hey, can’t have a princess in distress now can we?”

You just looked at him, now that he was watching Delaney. He’s somehow even more handsome than the night you first saw him. The added ruggedness from time and experiences, his face covered with more stubble and freckles, his physique is more defined, his jaw stronger, less baby faced and more lines that added extra outside appeal. He’s a smoke show, no doubt about that. And the way he smiled at you daughter (technically his daughter too) warmed your heart to no end, but those fuzzy feelings were just the calm before the storm of guilt and longing clouded over, destroying everything in its wake.

Dean stayed with you the whole time you were sitting on that bench and watching your daughter. It’s a daily occurrence to visit the park, usually in the later morning after you and Delaney have had breakfast and gotten ready for the day, she always chooses to wear either her sparkly purple and brown cowgirl boots or her pink light up sneakers and always asks you to do her hair. Delaney loves the playground and it’s a good way for her to socialize and be rambunctious before your shift at the diner, that’s the main reason you go. You don’t want her to be too sheltered or lonely like you were are, and she makes friends so easily there’s just no way you could deprive her of that just for your own pity party.

 You’d started working at Hal’s Diner shortly after you gave birth, leaving the cafe was hard but the diner offered a better pay and they’d let Delaney hang around if you couldn’t catch a sitter. The staff became like family, they’ve always been so supportive of you and your situation— offering flexible shifts, better pay options, so much loyalty over the years, and Delaney was practically diner royalty, everyone adored her. It was on the higher end, as far as diners go at least, still homey and familiar with retro styles and pancakes bigger than your face, but it wasn’t all grease and truckers that smell like cheap cigarettes and bad decisions.

“Delaney! Time to go, babe” your voice called out, her little head perked up before she gathered her toys and started saying goodbyes to her new friends.

“thank you again for the coffee and the toy horse surgery” you smiled to yourself, braving Deans steady eye contact skills, still shaking off the array of emotions he caused.

“s’my pleasure” he murmured, mirroring your smile. The way he looked at you made you want to melt, you got flashbacks from that night every time his gaze lingered on yours. You think he might be the only man to ever look at you like that. Whether that’s a good or bad thing, you didn’t know, nor did you want to.

You stood up, starting to pack your things into your bag, “this was nice… but I’ve gotta get to work— it was good seeing you, Dean” the way said it had a sort of finality to it, like this was it. In all reality it makes sense, you’d probably never see him again, or who knows, maybe all it takes is another five years for him to pop out of nowhere.

“you too,” he said your name with a softness you didn’t hear often. He was still looking at you despite your busy hands stealing your attention.

“my brother and I are actually gonna be here longer than we thought— maybe I’ll run into you again” 

You looked at him again, but before you could say anything Delaney made her way to you.

“are you coming to my birthday party?” Delaney asked him, eyes bright and expecting, the kid lacks a filter and usually you admire her transparency but not at this moment.

“oh I don’t think so honey, Deans got a lot going on I’m sure, he was just saying hi today” you said with a little slightly embarrassed chuckle, flashing a ah kids look towards Dean.

Delaney's face fell, she looked defeated that her own personal toy doctor was missing out on a bounce castle and pink birthday cake. She reached up and tugged on his shirt to get his attention, 

“pretty pleaseeeeee” she pleaded, eyes big, brows furrowed, pout intact, hands folded together, she’s pulling out all the stops. You sighed mouthing “you can tell her no, it’s okay.”

“there’s going to be a big cake and a princess castle and all my preschool friends are coming! And mommy said she needed more grown up friends too—“

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at that, you just dropped your head with a sigh of defeat. 

“Delaney Josephine— what did I say about trying to bargain with people?”

Dean couldn’t hold in his laughter, his smile was so big that his cheeks started to ache. He shook his head with a little sigh, crouching down to her level.

“well princess— you’re lucky that I can never say no to cake, so you better tell your mom that another grown up will be there” he smiled

“Yayyyy!” She cheered hugging him for the second time today, Dean was still laughing under his breath. Rubbing his hand up and down her back a little in the embrace, who knew little kids hugs could feel so fulfilling?

“sorry— she’s a hugger” you sighed, “and you really don’t have to go, she can be very stubborn, and apparently overhears her mothers conversations”

Dean smiled, standing when Delaney unattached herself, going to your bag for her water bottle, bargaining must be tiring work for the almost five year old.

“It’s a small backyard party with a bunch of moms and preschoolers dressed up as princesses and knights— I’m sure you’d rather do just about anything else” you added, hiking your mommy bag on your shoulder after Laney put her water back.

“I’ll be there—“ he urged with a gentle finality, shrugging his shoulders “sounds fun,”

You couldn’t help but smile, this gruff and grown man is more than willing to attend a turning-five year olds princess themed birthday party and it warmed your mama heart. You decided you’ll freak out about the fact your oblivious baby daddy is going to his daughter's birthday, later.

“okay” you breathed. Hands now digging in your bag for your phone.

“uhm I guess I’ll give you my number, to send you details and whatnot, or if you decide not to come which is perfectly okay—“

He smiled at your rambling, still thought it was so cute, he could hear you ramble on about anything and everything all day long.

Dean took your phone and put his information in while you tried not to freak out about the whole situation. You still felt like people with cameras were going to jump out of the bushes at any moment and yell “gotcha!” like you’re in a new episode of Punk’d.

“well, I guess I’ll see you Saturday then” he smiled, handing your phone back, his fingertips brushing yours. You tried to ignore the slight shiver it sent down your spine.

“yeah, I’ll see you then” you murmured hoping your voice didn’t sound as brittle as it felt coming out.

“wait— you’re not one of those moms that makes people get your kid books instead of toys for their birthday, right?” 

You huffed a laugh under your breath shanking your head, “no, toys are fine— she’s got enough books” you smiled, “but gifts aren’t mand-“

“before you tell me I don’t have to get her anything— what’s she like? Other than princesses…” he added, politely cutting you off.

You sighed with a smile, why can’t I stop smiling?!

“she actually really like cars, more classics than anything, uhm she loves little stuffed animals and puzzles, and her favorite shows are Strawberry Shortcake and Scooby-Doo— though I’m pretty sure they’re her favorite because they’re my favorites growing up and I indoctrinated her into liking them from day one”

Dean chuckled again, “hey, kids got taste, doesn’t matter how she got it—“ he shrugged making you laugh more under your breath, “cars and Scooby I can definitely do”

You both said your goodbyes before packing Delaney in the car and heading to the diner. You let out a deep breath, closing your eyes, silently praying for the strength and finesse to get through this whole situation, and that neither you or Delaney will get too attached to this man. So it won’t hurt as bad when he leaves, again.

synopsis ٠࣪⭑ the first time you decide to have fun, for once, lead to a night you’ll never forget with a man who you’ll always carry a peace of, despite his absence in your life—in the form of your daughter— surely you’ll never see him again, right?

contents ٠࣪⭑ baby daddy!Dean x single mom!reader, age gap implied (5yrs), non-explicit, one night stand, accidental pregnancy, soft Dean, introverted/soft reader implied, mentions of loneliness, no major look descriptions, s3/s8 Dean (vibes/age, not plot), multi part series, 2.3k word count

notes ٠࣪⭑ this is my first series!! Well, hopefully y’all like it enough to continue, but I’m already writing more for this AU! I really love this concept and it also breaks my heart— so don’t be deceived by the cute vibe, it’ll tug on your heartstrings.

You think about that night more often than you’d like to admit. Not only because if that night didn’t happen you wouldn’t have your sweet angel of a daughter, but it was a night where you decided to let loose for the first time in your life and it was the biggest mistake and best blessing all wrapped in one.

“c’mon, girl” your best friend dragged out over the phone, “you can’t sit in your bed on a Friday night watching romcoms and eating takeout— you’re young! You should have some fun”

You rolled your eyes but even though she couldn’t see it, she still seemed to feel it over the line, “don’t sass me, woman.”

“what? I’m not-“ you paused, letting out a little sigh, “this is fun… and I just got home from a double shift at the cafe, I just want to unwind—“

“watching A Walk to Remember and sobbing into your gas station soda isn’t fun, it’s a cry for help” she retorted.

Your jaw fell a little before closing again, muttering a half-assed shut up, taking another sip of said soda. She’s always trying to get you out of your shell, it never sticks but she’s relentless nonetheless; perks of having an extrovert for a best friend I guess.

“pretty please” she dragged out your name, “with a cherry on top— just come out with me and if you absolutely hate it, we can rot in your bed together next week, hm?” She reasoned, pulling another soft yet exasperated sigh out of you.

“Fine.”

The bar was loud, the only lights being the neon signs plastered all over the walls and the lamps that could barely be classified as illuminating. It smelt like beer, faint cigarette smoke, sweat, and peanuts. There was a jukebox that looked like it was on its last leg stationed in the corner, drunkards having the time of their lives dancing to the classic rock tunes flowing from the crappy speakers. There were mismatched booths and seating scattered around and a couple pool tables in the back.

You tugged your straps up again and adjusted the waistband of your jeans, the tight and slightly revealing clothes your bff insisted on (including the jeans with bedazzled pockets that she said made your ass look fantastic) were definitely not as comfortable as your matching striped cotton pajama set. You yearned for your bed even more than before now.

But some small, teeny, part of you agreed with her. You were a twenty three year old young woman who deserved to do normal 23-year-old things. It didn’t matter if you didn’t normally drink or hook up or expose yourself to second hand smoke, you were going to let loose and have fun.

The night was a blur until you saw him.

You were standing at the bar, the bartender looking at you as if you had two heads just for asking if they had espresso martinis, trying to explain that you’re not much of a drinker and prefer coffee in one too many rambling words before you were gently interrupted by a tall leather-clad stranger.

“just get the pretty woman something she’ll like— on me” the stranger said, a small smirk on his lips.

You turned to look at the stranger, already gearing up to save yourself from a creep hitting on you, but then you saw him.

The most gorgeous emerald green eyes with equally as beautiful lashes, freckles that dusted over his nose and perfect cheekbones, a chiseled jaw with just a little stubble that made him look rugged but still clean. He was muscular too, and smelt like motor oil, musky wood, and the beer that he was getting another of.

Wait— did he just call me pretty?!

“I’m Dean” the stranger introduced himself, a hand outstretched towards you, not having to go far given how close he was standing.

You snapped out of gawking at the gorgeous man, returning his introduction with your own. His hand was warm and rough but gentle somehow. You just hoped yours weren’t sweaty.

“I hope you don’t mind me jumping in there—“

“No!” you clear your throat a little, mentally telling yourself to cool it, “no, that’s perfectly fine, a-and thank you” you replied with a smile.

It felt like hours had passed, yet also only minutes. It was like you've already known him forever. Maybe that’s why you trusted him so fast. You almost felt bad for forgetting about your friend, but when you finally remembered the girl you call your bff, she looked back at you with the most shocked and supportive expression and two huge thumbs up, mouthing “he’s hot!”

There was just something so charming about Dean. He was certainly charming enough to keep you talking, smiling more than you have in a long time, and blushing from all the flirty touches and compliments he dished out.

He’s so charming that you don’t even flinch when he says he’s just passing through town— or when he’s pulling you closer, or when his hand is brushing your hair behind your ear and luring your lips to his, or even when you followed him to his gorgeous car and drove off together back to your apartment.

“I never do anything like this…” you’d murmured, putting a gentle halt to Dean's sweet lips pressed on your neck, moving to look in your eyes.

“I want to… so bad… I just- figured I should let you know”

He just smiled, flashing that pretty grin of his. His hand caressing your cheek again. Opening his mouth and muttering,

“I got you, sweetheart”

He was gone the next morning. Leaving nothing but the memory of the most passionate night of your life and unknowingly a piece of him with you.

“Mommy!” A little voice echoed from across the park.

Your head snapped up from your book, watching your daughter who’s shin-deep in the sandbox showing off her sandcastle in the most vivacious manner a five year old can muster up.

“Oh hunny, it’s beautiful! A princess’ dream” you praise her, a genuine smile on your face.

Delaney's face broke out in a proud and sweet grin, her green eyes shining so bright. Her little hands already moving to create another lopsided masterpiece out of sand.

It was a wonder how this bright, lively, loving little girl came from someone with so much hardship and loneliness. She was the best thing in your life, the best thing to happen to you.

After you’d found out you were pregnant (and after the many freak outs and mental breakdowns) you’d owned it. You’d always wanted a baby of your own— sure, in very different circumstances, but there was a little miracle growing in your womb whether you liked it or not.

There were many nights you spent isolated and sobbing because you couldn’t do it alone, many times you cried for your baby and wished she didn't have just you, the times you had to drive yourself to the hospital when there were false alarms; and then there were moments you knew you didn’t need anyone else, you didn’t need the man, to give your baby the best life you could provide.

Nowadays, you still bounced back and forth between extremes, but mostly you lived in the middle. The part where you’re grateful and love your life and little family duo, but sometimes you'd wish you had someone to help carry the load, or to just be there with you two.

You’d gone back to your book, eyes flickering away from the pages every so often to check on Laney, a reflux you gained with motherhood.

The beam of summer sun that was lighting up the words you were reading somehow disappeared. Replaced by a shadow. You looked up, startled, to see a figure who stole your sunlight.

“Can I help you?” You’d murmured casually before catching the person's face, a sunray stuck in your eyeline, making it difficult to see clearly.

But then you heard your name fall from the figure's lips, you guarded the light from your eyes with your hand, now being able to see clearly.

You’d like to say it took you a second to recognize him, but it was instantaneous. As if you saw him every day. You’d only paused because you needed to internally scrape your jaw up off the floor.

“Dean?” Your voice came out more breathy than you’d hope it would. But he smiles anyway.

“You remember me?” He sounded surprised, even though he’d obviously remembered you.

“Of course…” you murmured, still in a mild state of shock.

His smile widened, and just as he was about to finish asking you to join him for coffee, little footsteps ran over to where you sat on the bench.

“Mama, mama! Can you pleaseeee push me on the swings?!” Delaney had asked, polite as a five year old could be. Her little hands resting on your bent knees.

Dean's eyebrows shot up, clearly perplexed as to why this little girl with wild hair and sparkly cowgirl boots is calling you mama.

Your trance is somewhat broken by your daughter barging in. Hand automatically brushing her hair back.

“In a minute, baby, why don’t you sit and have your snack— mommy’s talking to a friend,” the words tasted weird in your mouth. He wasn’t a friend, he was a man that made you feel like the prettiest girl in the world for a night and then left you with a baby, five years ago.

Laney nodded and eagerly took the pre-packed snacks you handed her, an adorable thank you, mommy leaving her lips, her little feet swinging back and forth where they hung off the bench.

“She yours?” Dean asked, stupidly. Trying to play off his surprise, shifting his weight slightly on his feet.

Of course that’s your kid, what am I thinking?

“Y-yeah, yeah, um this is my daughter— Delaney” you’d rushed out, still wondering if this was the effects of a sun sickness, because you had to be hallucinating or something.

Delaney waved a little, still sipping the juice box clutched in her other hand. Deans lips turning into a smile, waving back.

“Cute kid” he murmured, severely out of his element here.

“Thanks,” you’d awkwardly retorted.

This cannot be happening right now.

“Uhm- what uh brings you here” you decided on, trying to be polite but really you just wanted to get this over with and for him to leave your lives again, no harm no foul.

“My brother and I were just passing through, and I uh- remembered a pretty girl I’d met here a little while back, figured it was worth a shot to look her up” he said, looking almost shy, most likely turned off by the whole mom thing now though.

Pretty girl, your heart fluttered a little without your permission. You ignored it.

“But uh, sorry, your husband is probably— yeah, uhm well it was nice seeing you again—“

“I don’t have a husband” the words fell out before you could stop them. Dean seemed confused again. You silently berated yourself, you never really got ahold of that rambling problem.

“I uh—I mean it’s just us girls” you said, clearing things up a little, awkwardly. You didn’t have to explain yourself to him, if you did he’d know he was technically a father. Your hand went to your daughter's head, attention going to her instead, to somewhat avoid this unfortunate interaction.

What you didn’t see is the way Dean examined you both. He felt like a bit of a douche for just popping in out of nowhere because you hooked up one time ,years ago, and now you clearly have a life of your own. But hearing there was no guy surprised him, if he’s being honest.

He may not have known you for long but in those twelve-ish hours he’d got to spend with you years ago, he’d known you were special. You were sweet and adorably awkward, and rambled too much even when you wanted to stop, you were gentle and honestly rocked his world that night— you were different, he may or may not have realized it at the moment but he definitely realized when he spent a million nights with other women after, and none were like you— maybe that’s why he stopped in his tracks when he saw you the same time yesterday, just reading on your bench, not then realizing one of those kiddos was actually yours.

Not to mention he thought you were gorgeous, in a way that again he never saw after you, the way your hair fell and that shy smile on your face, your pretty eyes and even prettier voice threw him for a loop, you weren’t fake or painted on, you were real. Still are… but now you’ve got a mini you, and whatever circumstance it was, the fact there was no guy settled weird in his chest.

Your gaze shifted from your daughter to the watch on your wrist, secretly grateful that you actually had a reason to escape this hellish encounter.

“Oh gosh,” you turned back to him, “I’m sorry I actually have to go, I’m gonna run late for my shift—” you started packing things up despite Delaney's soft protests.

“Uhm it was nice seeing you again Dean, I uh- hope you have a good stay while you’re here”

Dean was a little surprised by the abruptness but he understood, even though he secretly wished you didn’t have to go.

“It was nice seeing you too,” he smiled a little and you offered an awkward wave before walking away, Delaney in hand.

“Bye-bye mister!” Your daughter's voice called back with a wave and that childish toothy grin.

contents ٠࣪⭑ Dean Winchester x reader, unestablished relationship, Dean’s in love, oblivious idiots in love, fluffy with just a teeny smidge of angst, 885 word count

notes ٠࣪⭑ hey y’all .ᐟ here’s a little something for Dean while I figure out my AU chapter!! I wanted this to be a full fledged fic but I didn’t know how to continue it so now it’s this :)

Dean's been feeling it for a while now, this creeping unfamiliar feeling, one he can’t help but to have noticed over the past few… well— however damn long it’s been— he just can’t get you out of his head.

It’s freaking him out really. Like how he automatically smiles when the smell of your perfume sticks to the impala's backseat, or the way his nervous system exhales when he sees you smile, and he hates how bad his heart stutters in his chest whenever you touch him, even so much as a graze of your fingertips over his leather-clad shoulder sends him into a frenzy.

Dean Winchester isn’t a crush guy, hell— he doesn’t even know if he’s truly ever had real feelings for someone before you, at least not to this degree. And of course it had to be you, one of the best friends he’s ever really had, the one person (besides his brother) who’s stuck around and wasn’t scared off by his mess. It’s yet another cruel joke his life has to offer.

But he pushes it down, like he always does, because that’s all he can do. He’d rather suffer in silence and let you plague his soul, than to lose you in some sorry attempt of admitting feelings he doesn’t even think you reciprocate.

Sam, Dean, and yourself wind up at a dive bar in some nowhere town, typical post-hunt activities. You somehow roped up Dean into dancing with you, yes dancing, he didn’t think even you had that kind of power. But there was zero chance he could look into your pretty eyes while you flash that shy smile and tell you “no”— it just wasn’t physically possible.

So there you two were, dancing (terribly) to some classic rock song by the half-broken jukebox, joined by the other bar occupants. Dean didn’t care if anyone was looking, he didn’t care about anything but the girl in front of him, it felt like it was just the two of you even in a crowded room. Everything and everyone else quieted to a low murmur, all he could see was you, all he could hear was your soft laughter over the speakers, all he could feel was the brushes of your touch in the confined space— what was happening to him?

He didn’t think he cared about his façade anymore, but even in his trance-like state, he pushed the thought aside. Until you took one wrong step and lost balance, falling straight into him like some cheap cliche, but he was pulled out of his thoughts in time to catch you anyway.

“Sorry—“ you gushed over a fit of giggles, not sounding sorry in the slightest. He didn’t move right away, not even after murmuring some lighthearted joke in a pitiful attempt to deflect the way he’s affected by your close proximity. But he didn’t let go, he didn’t make a move to help you up right just yet, and you didn’t either.

After what felt like an eternity you straightened, still giggling like an embarrassed schoolgirl, and he couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips even if he tried.

As if the universe hadn’t enjoyed his pain enough, a slow song started playing. One he knew you loved because you always quietly sang along whenever it came on the radio, one that people danced to together, like close and touching and looking in each other's eyes—

“oh! I love this song” your soft exclamation interrupted his thoughts, and before he could even think of a way to get you back to the table, you looked up at him with those big pretty eyes just pleading for him to join you.

“c’mon Winchester— I never get to do crap like this, humor me?” you urged, his heart did a weird thing in his chest like it always does when you’re around, your tone came off as playful and teasing but he knew that look in your eyes was anything but. You didn’t ask for much, that was true, and he knew you never did things like this, that look in your eyes was as if you’d already accepted defeat but still asked anyway.

So without a word he took your hands and draped them over his shoulders, he pretended he didn’t see the little smile you tried to hide, he acted as if his pulse wasn’t pounding in his ears. You just came closer, his hands hovering over your waist as you both fell into step with the music.

“Promise I won’t bite” you murmured with a gentle smile, that same smile that could get him to go to war for you, so he lowered his hands— fighting the urge to pull you closer until there’s no space left between you.

Your eyes close a little like you’re taking in the music, which you are— but you’re also bathing in his touch— you and Dean don’t get many chances to be this close, you can’t help the warmth that covers your whole body just from something as simple as slow dancing in a bar. You let the feeling live there, you don’t cast it far away the second it’s presence is known as you usually do, just until the song’s over, you tell yourself.

no pressure! | really love both ideas and both will be released eventually, but I thought I'd ask the people what they want first