#dean and reader

“Okay, but rebuttal, Dean is his entire world.” You counter, trying to argue your way out of this conversation. Sam being in your room was normal, but right now it was like he was suffocating you.

Sam groans and runs his hands down his face. He says your name slowly and sighs, “You’ve said, maybe, ten words total to him in the couple of years you’ve been around. You’re going to have to talk to him eventually.” 

“I just don’t understand why he had to pick such an attractive vessel. ‘Cuz, like, he picked it, right? He had to come down to earth and choose a body to inhabit?” You complain, hoping the angel will pick up on your thoughts one day so you don’t have to say them.

Sam smiles softly at you and says your name once more. “He heard Jimmy’s prayers for God, and he answered. Can’t help that he was an attractive man to begin with,” the brother laughs and pats your cheek. You roll your eyes and flop back onto your pillows. You sigh loudly and dramatically, entertaining the younger Winchester. Two sets of thunderous footsteps break your dramatics.

“Sam?” You hear Dean ask through your door, knocking. He says your name as well before slowly opening the door. “Just makin’ sure no funny business is goin’ on,” he looks between the two of you before stepping fully into the room. Before you can give a smart-ass response back, Castiel steps through the doorway.

“Dude! She’s like our sister!” Sam throws the pillow he’s been holding at his brother. He dodges it effortlessly, and it hits the angel in the face. You immediately cover your mouth with your hand to attempt to hold back your laugh. Castiel seems completely unfazed, which spurs your laughter more. Sam snorts at his lack of reaction and the way you’re trying to hold it together.

“You did not have to throw the pillow at me,” the angel deadpans, moving closer to the bed where you and Sam are still seated.

Sam laughs out loud, “To be fair, I was aiming for fuck-face over there.” At that, Dean crosses his arms and sits in the chair you have by your desk.

Working up the courage despite your pounding heart and pumping adrenaline, you blurt out: “You can sit on my bed as well, Castiel.”

His head practically whips to you, eyes searching for yours. This does nothing to quell your nerves. The angel nods silently and sits at the open end of your bed, beyond stiff. Studying him quietly, you smile to yourself. The Winchesters both take notice of this interaction, both silently conversing, Sam trying to signal to leave.

Dean clears his throat and makes an excuse to leave your room, Sam following suit. You try to protest, but Sam shoots you a look that says, “Do it; thank me later.” You sigh and turn to Castiel once the brothers leave. “So…” you start, fidgeting with your thumbs.

“You are nervous around me.” He doesn’t even phrase it as a question. He knows it’s true. Castiel shifts on the bed, managing to get closer to you. Closer to you! You repeat in your mind.

You nod, “Yeah, I am.”

“I do not understand, I help the Winchesters. Does this not soothe your nerves?” His voice is addictive, the cadence of his words lulling you closer to him. 

“I mean, yeah, it soothes me… but you’re,” you study him, being this close is intoxicating. Does he even know what he’s doing?

“I am what?” The response is immediate. He craves human validation, you remember Sam saying something along those lines a lifetime ago. 

“Intimidating,” you confess. You have no fucking idea why you’re admitting everything. His presence is domineering in your space, he is everywhere. This is the first time you’ve had a one-on-one conversation with him, and it’s like you’re vomiting every thought you’ve ever had about him out.

The angel sighs and tilts his head. “I have heard that before. Dean told me to work on being more” he rubs the back of his neck, signaling embarrassment– “welcoming.” You smile at his admission of guilt? Maybe it was something more. The mention of Dean from Castiel’s mouth stirs something within you. 

“I see…” You nod your head slowly and look down at your lap. You’ve imagined conversations with him, but this is something different. You never imagined being able to see each freckle on his face. Or his smile lines, carved so deeply in his face, although you’ve never seen him smile. Your mind races, what would he even smile at? The thought starts lingering, longer than you want it to. You’re hyperaware of the silence permeating through your room, unable to pinpoint the emotion behind it: Tense? Awkward? Comfortable? 

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Four more days have passed, and the tension between you and Castiel has not settled. Sam and Dean have picked up on it, although the angel has not noticed your unease. “How are your eggs?” he asks one day over breakfast. You nearly choke, not expecting him to speak to you. 

“Good,” your answer is short, trying to pretend that Castiel’s voice wasn’t sending shivers down your spine. The angel exhales and nods, deeming your answer sufficient. You study him quietly, poking at your eggs, scared to take another bite, just in case Castiel tries to talk to you again. 

Dean huffs your name, “Stop playing with your food.” Sam laughs softly at his brother’s attempt to fluster you. You raise your middle finger to him, rolling your eyes.

“‘m not playing with my food,” you grumble, still pushing your eggs around, “jus’ not hungry.” Castiel watches you closely, his gaze scrutinizing. Looking up, you lock eyes with him and he smiles softly. He looks at your food, then back to you, quirking his head as if he were asking a question. You furrow your brow, trying to hold a silent conversation with the angel while the Winchester brothers’ voices fill the air around you. Castiel reaches for your fork, still in your hand. 

“May I?” he essentially whispers, trying to keep the conversation between the two of you. You nod, watching his movements carefully. He gathers eggs onto the fork and lifts it to his mouth, taking a bite. What the fuck. Castiel chews slowly, eyebrows creasing.

“Good?” you ask quietly, examining his facial expressions intently. 

He shakes his head, swallowing, “Tastes like nothing,” he informs. You tilt your head, confused. What do you mean? Dean seasoned the eggs well. Your thoughts swirl around your brain. Castiel, reading your confusion, smiles and leans closer. Your breath stutters. He is so close that you can see all the different blues in his eyes. “I do not need to eat, therefore, it’s different for me,” the angel answers your unspoken question. 

Oh.

    You smiled before turning to spot Dean wheeling out a mop bucket. His eyes crinkled deeply as he returned your smile, brushing off his hands on his apron before stepping forward to grab you in a tight hug.

    “I didn’t know you were in town,” he exclaimed, rocking you back and forth before letting you go to hold you at arm’s length. “You look good. How’ve you been?”

    “Eh,” you answered honestly.

    He nodded and rounded the counter, stopping to wash his hands as you explained what brought you back to Kansas this time. He listened to your sanitized summary of the past month of hunts. You didn’t even notice as he started making the biggest banana split you’d ever seen.

    “Whoa,” you exclaimed, eyeing the dessert.

    “What?! It’s got fruit in it. It’s practically a salad. Even Sammy would have trouble arguing with me over this balanced of a lunch.”

    You giggled and rolled your eyes. “How’s he doing anyway?”

    “Sam? Fine, moving the kids back from the dorms this weekend,” Dean offered before shoving a spoon in his mouth and pointing you to the back booth.

    Once you had settled across from each other, he handed you the extra spoon and you dug in. It was even better than you’d hoped. You ate in comfortable silence, watching your old friend enjoy the fruits of his labor. It was a miracle he was still in such good shape in his retirement.

    He always did have a sweet tooth.

    “So when you gonna run off and join our little circus?” Dean teased with a wink. “Sam’s barely here now that he’s doing the pro bono thing. Cas, well, the farmer’s market is a much more lucrative day job than this place. So he’s always out in the yard. You gonna stop roaming and keep us company?”

    “I don’t know, I like staying warm in the winters, Dean,” you countered with little gusto.

    “You could just take a breather? There’s always another hunter out there, promise.”

    It warmed your heart to be invited with such sincerity, but hearing Dean Winchester, of all people, saying those words hit a nerve and you couldn’t help the trickle of joy that wet your eyes.

    You inhaled deeply and nodded. “Okay— maybe just a little vacay.”

    Dean clicked his tongue. “I don’t know, it might be so good you’ll stay.”

Thank you to @wingedcatninja​ for the prompt!

"Yes, I did, and you know why? Because I don't have to follow your orders, Y/N, you don't steer this boat. I do, and I will from here on out."

"What?"

"It's as I told Sam. We are not a team, this is a dictatorship--"

"Emphasis on dick," she said, cutting him off, her fist clenching at her side, clenching her jaw, then turned to walk away. "Do what you want, Dean, you're going to no matter what we say." Dean took her arm and turned her towards him. "I said stop walking away from me," he said through clenched teeth. "The blade is the only thing that can stop Metatron, and I am the only one who can use it." 

Y/N jerked her arm out of his grasp and shoved him away from her. "We weren't facing Metatron tonight, Dean, we were trying to find a mole in Castiel's angel army. Now he has no army, because of you. Because you killed Tessa," Y/N snapped, shaking her head. "No, I didn't, she killed herself."

"Dean, the point is, you told us you'd only use the first blade for the big fish. You lied to both of us, and you won't even apologize for that."

"No, I'm not going to apologize, Y/N. Like I said, I steer this boat. I'm calling the shots from here, whether you like it or not, I don't really care. In fact, if you don't like it, you can go." He turned and headed back to the library, not giving her the chance to reply. Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she watched him walk away, before turning and going the opposite direction. She swallowed hard and went into her room, slamming the door as hard as she could behind her. With shaky hands, she grabbed her duffel and set it on her bed and moved to clean her things out of the room. Hot and angry tears fell silently down her cheeks as she laid eyes on a picture of her and Dean on the nightstand. She swallowed hard as she picked it up and moved her fingers over Dean's smiling face. Laying it face down in her bag, she zipped it up and walked out of the room, leaving her burner phone behind so he couldn't track her. She set down with a piece of paper and pen and wrote a letter to Sam, then moved down to Sam's room, hoping he wouldn't be in there. Right now, he was the only one that could convince her to stay. Laying the letter on Sam's bed, she quickly left and avoided the library, able to hear Dean and Cas talking. She took a deep breath and went to the garage, and soon, she was leaving the bunker behind in her rearview mirror.

Nine months later...

"You know you can't avoid them forever, Y/N." The girl nodded as she looked up at Jody, wiping her tears away. "You can't avoid him. You have to talk to him eventually. He's been calling here every day for two weeks," the sheriff told her. "I know, I just...Jody, I abandoned him. I always told him, no matter what happened, I'd never leave. I checked out the first time things got a bit too hard. I don't deserve him." "Y/N, Dean loves you. And he wouldn't call here every day for two weeks if he didn't want to work it out." Jody laid her hand over Y/N's and gently squeezed before giving her her cell. "Call him, talk to him." A knock at the door caused both women to look up. "I'll get it," she said and left Y/N alone with her thoughts. Y/N scrolled through Jody's phone and pulled up Dean's number, her finger hovering over his number. Sighing, she bit her bottom lip and put the phone down on the counter before sliding off the chair and turning to see Dean standing behind her, gasping softly.

  "Yea, I wouldn't call the douchebag back either," he said, his tone gentle, a crooked smile on his face. Y/N smiled slightly and loosely crossed her arms over her chest before taking a couple steps closer. "Hi," she said.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said back, and licked his lips. "How are you?" he asked. Y/N shook her head and shrugged.

"I've been better. You?"

"Same." Clearing his throat, Dean stepped forward and opened his hands to her, relieved when she set hers inside. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I was a dick. I know I hurt you. You meant everything to me and I..." he shook his head, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth. "And then, when I was a demon," he moved his finger over the scar on her neck.

"Dean, that wasn't you--"

"It was enough of me." He swallowed thickly and gently tilted her chin up. "Look, Y/N, I understand if you want nothing more to do with me after everything that's happened. It's probably the smartest thing you could do, actually. If that's what you want, then I'll walk away and I won't ask you for anything. Just know, I love you, Y/N, and I always will. I just want you to be happy, sweetheart. Safe."   Y/N glanced up at him and swallowed hard, then took another step towards him, cupping his face in her hand.

"How could I be happy or safe without the man that gives me both?" she asked, her voice wavering. Dean smiled softly and wrapped both arms tightly around her waist, lifting her off the ground as he held her in his arms, burying his face in her shoulder. Y/N held onto him tightly, closing her eyes as she threaded her fingers into his hair, breathing in the smell of whiskey and leather and cologne. "I love you so damn much, Y/N Y/L/N," he whispered in her ear. "I love you too, Dean, and I wanna come home," she told him, pressing her forehead against his, peering up into his hazel eyes. The man smiled softly and leaned down slowly, giving her a chance to pull away. Y/N leaned up and kissed him, finally feeling at home in the arms of the man she loved.

You turned over onto your other side, then lifted yourself up, straddling the handsome man beside you. You leaned in and pressed soft kisses up his bare shoulder, to the light scruff on his neck, up his sharp jaw, then onto his mouth. Morning breath wasn’t a concern for him, and something you very quickly learned to ignore.

“Hey there, tiger,” he grumbled as he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist. His hands slid down to your pantie-clad ass, grinding you down against his half-hard cock. He groaned and captured your lips with his.

“Mmm, good morning birthday boy,” you cooed against his plump lips. You rolled your hips once more against his now rock-hard member, earning yourself a low moan from deep within Dean’s throat. His head leaned back against his pillow as you continued the assault on his neck. Your skin heated as you watched his Adam’s apple bob with each strangled moan.

“Y/N,” Dean groaned, his grip on you tightening. You just smiled, sitting up just enough to slowly peel your tank top from your body, revealing the bare skin beneath. Dean’s hands shot up from your ass, skating their way up your sides to the mounds of your breasts. He squeezed them, rolling his thumbs over your nipples, coaxing a breathing whimper from you.

Dean hands traveled back down to the waistline of your panties. His fingers dipped under the fragile fabric and tugged down. You lifted yourself up so he could slip the thin garment from your body.

While you lifted yourself from Dean, you stripped him of his boxers, watching his swollen member smack against his lower stomach. Small beads of pre-cum leaked onto his tanned skin, making your mouth water.

Keeping your eyes locked, you lowered yourself between his muscular legs, hovering your mouth over your prize. Low groans echoed around you as your tongue made contact with his cock. You licked a thick stripe up from the base to the leaking head, before encompassing the tip with your swollen lips. The tip of your tongue flicked against the slit, forcing a hiss from the birthday boy.

His hands reached down and gripped your hair at the back of your head. His fingers mercilessly curled into your locks, guiding your head as you devoured his cock. You moaned against his flesh, sending a vibration up his body.

His rough hand guided you as he rolled his hips, thrusting his length deep into your throat. Soft whimpers and gags only fuel Dean as he whispered filthy words of praise.

Suddenly, he halted you, holding your head still. You peered up and watched as his short breaths slowed, his eyes squeezed shut. He was trying to hold his composure, and it was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen.

Dean’s grip loosened and he peered down at you. “That mouth is fucking sinful, Y/N, but I want to be inside you,” he rasped. “Ride me,” he requested with a growl. You were only happy to oblige.

You straddled him again, grinding your soaking wet heat over his shaft. Dean threw his head back and moaned, his back arching up from the mattress. God, you loved how he reacted to your touch.

Lifting yourself up, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his chest, before lining him up with your entrance, and lowering yourself slowly onto him. Your walls ached as they stretched around his length. When he bottomed out, he stilled for a moment, then grabbed your sides as he rolled his hips.

He guided the swirl of your hips and bounced you up and down above him. He grinned up at you as heavy breaths and moans escaped your lips. His tongue peeked out from between his puffy lips as he grinned.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praised as you rode his length. “So tight around my cock, so wet for me—” His last word came out strained as you flexed your walls around him. Dean huffed out a breath, then expelled a long, low groan. His fingers reached down, quickly finding your throbbing clit. His thumb spun brutal circles around your sensitive nub, awakening a familiar burn in your core.

“Dean,” you huffed as your pace faltered, your nails digging into his chest as you struggled to support yourself.

Dean sat himself up, wrapping his other arm around your waist, steadying you as your climax threatened.

He rolled his thumb faster and latched his lips to yours. He kissed you slowly and deeply as he led you to your orgasm. Your lips separated as your head fell back, the small thread inside you finally snapping. You shook as a loud moan left you. Heat surged down your legs and up your abdomen as you chanted Dean’s name, barely able to catch your breath.

As you came down from your high, Dean quickened his pace. He bucked his hips in a spastic rhythm, before his cock began to pulse, spilling deep inside you. Your name left his lips in a growl as his body relaxed.

Dean held you against him, his breaths just as labored as yours. His body was warm, drenched in sweat, and fully encompassing you. You rested your forehead against his, sporting a soft smile across your swollen lips.

“Happy birthday, babe,” you whispered between breaths. Dean chuckled, his chest vibrating against your heated skin. Dean leaned back against, bringing you down against him and holding you against his chest. You sat there like, wrapped in each other, that for what felt like an hour.

“Mmm,” Dean hummed. “Maybe it’s time for a birthday shower,” he teased before taking your earlobe between his teeth.

“Dean, I think we should try adding a third person,” you offered, crossing your arms.

Dean’s head shot up from his book. He was finally paying attention. You cocked an eyebrow, studying his stunned expression.

“A what?” His gaze was locked on you. What the hell was wrong with him? You hadn’t seen him this startled in a long time.

“Uh, a third person. Like Sam. Where is he, anyway?” Dean’s eyes were like saucers.

“Bring Sam in?” By the tone of his voice, you could tell he was completely stunned. But why? Sam always helped with research.

“Um, yeah. I’ve been thinking about it for a little while now—”

“You’ve been thinking about bringing Sam in for a while?” He sounded mad, which made absolutely no sense. Why would he be mad about help? The two of you were completely lost in lure, not to mention exhausted.

“Yeah, I mean, we need some help. I think bringing Sam in would help bring our minds together, and maybe he can find whatever we’re missing—”

“What we’re missing? Y/N, where the hell is this all coming from?” Dean stood from his chair, very obviously tense. His hands gripped the side of the table with a white-knuckle grip as he glared at you.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is. Dean, we’re struggling here. We need to figure this out.” Dean huffed and rolled his eyes, almost in disbelief.

“Oh, and you think bringing Sam into our relationship will help us figure things out? I don’t even know what we need to figure out! I mean, I thought you were happy!”

You stiffened. What the actual fucking hell was he talking about?

Oh.

“Wait, what? No. No! Dean, I never said anything about bringing Sam into our relationship.” You glanced around the room, hideously confused. “I meant we should bring him in to help us research.” You leaned away from Dean and watched his every move. His shoulders relaxed slightly.

“You weren’t taking about our relationship?” You had never seen Dean so confused in your life.

“Uh, no. I was talking about the case. I have been this whole time, babe.” You shook your head. “I knew you weren’t listening to me.”

Dean huffed a laugh as his lips curled into an emotionless smirk. “Oh, apparently not.” He took a minute to calm himself, then laughed sincerely.

“I don’t even want to think about my brother being involved in this relationship.” He cringed and shook his head.

Your eyes quickly lifted to a figure behind Dean. Oh, great. Your gaze fixed on a very startled looking Sam, who stopped in his tracks.

Sam approached one of the chairs and lowered himself into it. “I’m not going to ask, and I don’t want to know. The answer is no.” He didn’t make eye contact with either of you. “Have you found anything about this thing?” You shook your head.

You shared a smile with Dean, before he gathered his book and rounded the table, taking a seat beside you. He opened his book and scanned it, wrapping his arm around the top of your chair.

Dean leaned in closer to you. “We don’t need him anyway. I think I’m all you can handle,” Dean whispered before pressing a light kiss just below your ear. You giggled and turned, catching his lips with yours.

Sam slid and grabbed the table. “Shit! What the hell did I just step on?” he shouted. He leaned over and picked up the item in question. “It’s… a foam bullet?”

“Wait, is that from a NERF gun?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. Cas stared at the small, bright orange foam, obviously confused.

“Oh, shit I think it is.” Sam chuckled, then tossed the piece onto the table then sighed. “I think I see what’s going on here—”

“You can’t hide forever, angel boy!” You screamed as you slid into the library from the main hall. You kept yourself low to the ground, clutching your NERF gun close while pressing yourself against the wall. “I’m the master, young Jedi. I will find you!”

Dean stared over at you, his eyes wide with concern and confusion. “Babe, what the fu—”

“Dean, get down! You’re like a sitting duck! He’s a sneaky one,” you warned with a slur. “He could be anywhere.” You stared between the three men. “Get down!”

Dean stared over at Cas, then Sam, and slowly lowered himself into a squat. Sam copied, followed by Cas.

“Y/N, what the actual fuck is going on?” Dean whispered as he slowly inched closer to you.

You peered around for a moment, then glanced his way. “I’m hunting the enemy, babe. He’s a quick learner, and a decent shot. But, he isn’t as nimble as I am.” You suddenly snapped your gaze towards a noise from down the hall. You were instantly on your feet, heading for the kitchen. “I can’t let him find me! Fend for yourselves!” you screamed before disappearing from sight.

Dean let out a long sigh as he attempted to process what was going on. “What the actual fuck?”

Sam led Dean down the hall just outside of your bedroom. It took the two of them less than five minutes to find Jack, hiding out in his room of all places. Cas kept a close eye on him while backing the brothers up with their search for you.

“How far could she have gone? I mean, it’s not like she can fly or anything. There are only so many rooms.” Dean slammed his hand on the wall in frustration.

Just a moment later, a loud bang erupted from the vent pipe above them. They all slowly raised their gaze to the ceiling.

“No way,” Sam muttered in a mix of shock and awe. “She isn’t—”

Another bang reverberated through the hall, making Jack jump beside Castiel. Then, he took a step forward. “Hey! That’s cheating!”

“There’s no cheating in war, only advantage!” your voice echoed through the ceiling.

“Y/N, please get the hell out of the ceiling. You’ve won.” He turned to Jack, then rolled his eyes. “We have the, uh, enemy in our custody,” he groaned, hoping to lure you down by playing along.

The grate covering the vent slowly lifted, revealing your grease and dirt-stained face. “Ha! You would have never found me in here, Jackie boy!” you taunted.

Jack frowned. “I want a rematch!”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Dean shouted, glaring at Jack. “No one’s having a rematch. This ends here.” He peered up at you and sighed. “Y/N, please come down from there. Let’s get you cleaned up and get you to bed.” He turned back to Jack, his face stern. “Jack, go with Cas and clean up the mess you made. Sam, get me a damn ladder please. I’m going to stay here and make sure she doesn’t fall.” He peered back up at you and shook his head.

Jack pouted, folding his arms. “Hey! Y/N made the mess to. It was her idea—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Dean growled. “I’m too tired for this shit.”

Sam gently held your waist as you carefully made your way down the ladder, and into Dean’s arms. The moment he reached out for you, you melted against his chest.

“Undefeated NERF champion. Aren’t you proud?” you giggled against his flannel shirt.

“I never doubted you, sweetheart. But, I think you went a little overboard. There are three glasses shattered all over the floor out there, and you could have hurt yourself in that air vent. I don’t even want to know how you got in there.” He rubbed your back, kissing your dirt-dusted forehead. “Maybe you should start on beginner mode next time, then level up from there. And, maybe try it sober next time. Jack is still learning how to handle is liquor, and I know you can get a little overly enthusiastic.” The last few words came out as a giggle.

“Fine,” you whined. “Beginner mode next time. But, if he wants a rematch, then bring it on!” You screamed against Dean’s chest.

“Alright, Rambo. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He gently turned you towards the bathroom, and you finally surrendered.