#deanwinchesterfluff

territorial!deanwinchester that would constantly keep an eye on you during hunts, protecting you without even realizing.

territorial!deanwinchester who always walks behind you in unknown territory. he insists on having his eyes on you at all times.

territorial!deanwinchester who instinctively reaches for you at the smallest sign of danger. a thud in the distance and he's already got his arm in front of you, ready to block anything that may harm you.

territorial!deanwinchester who'd constantly zone out while staring at you, then act confused when you or sam would call him out on it. "just tired" he'd shake his head and look around the room, suddenly he was very interested in the peeling wall paper of the diner.

territorial!deanwinchester who would never dream of outright admitting that the thought of losing you kept him up at night.

territorial!deanwinchester who insisted on sleeping in the same bed as you. always making a lame excuse of sam being too big to share a bed with. dean would always lay on top of the covers, so if anything were to happen he'd be ready to jump into action.

territorial!deanwinchester who'd unknowingly reach for you in his sleep, always keeping a hand on you so he knew you were still there. at night if you'd left the bed, and you managed to do so without waking him, you would always return to find him with his face pressed into your pillow. yearning to breathe in your scent subconsciously.

territorial!deanwinchester who unintentionally showed his possessiveness after the subject of you being with someone else arose...

݁ ˖𓂃.𖠰

it had all started on a night that was foreseen to be castiels' last. with the intention of killing raphael, castiel didn't think he would survive the encounter. to comfort him, dean began to conspire on a way to make his last night on earth a meaningful one.

"dude come on, anything? booze? women?" dean was shocked at how unnervingly calm castiel had been in what he thought to be his final hours. castiel avoided eyecontact with the both of you, appearing to be uncomfortable at the prospect of being with a woman. "you have been with a woman before, right?" deans eyebrows rose in near shock.

"or an angel at least?" dean moved his head to reach castiel's avoidant gaze. "come on dean, leave him alone" you couldn't help but pity the meek angel. dean leaned in to the back of castiel's head, as if he was interrogating the poor man. "you mean to tell me you've never been up there doing a little cloud seeding?"

castiel shuttered at his language. "dean if priests can't have sex what makes you think angels can?" you said trying to save cas from the pile of embarrassment he seemed to be melting into.

"look i've never had occasion, ok?" castiel muttered, looking down to his hands, anxiously fumbling with his thumbs.

"well alright! i know what we're doing tonight." dean reached for his jacket hanging off the back of your chair. "we are going to get you laid!" castiel whipped his head up to you, his eyes widened in fear as if he was pleading for you to help him.

"dean i don't think that's necessary" you looked up to him as he threw the jacket on.

"i agree. besides i do not know who i would have this encounter with." castiel had tried to reason to the man, but his mind was already made.

"easy! we'll find someone for you cas, don't worry" dean chirped, placing a hand on your shoulder as if this was something you had any interest in being a part of. you looked up at him confusedly. he grinned cockily, finding joy in both you and castiel's disinterest in his antics.

"no. if i were to partake in this game of yours it would have to be with someone i know." castiel was stern "intercourse is to be with someone you know and care for. like y/n for example. she is my frien-"

"no." dean spoke sternly, straightening up at the suggestion. "she's off limits" crossing his arms across his chest. that threw you off guard. off limits? what could he mean by that?

"i was merely using her as an examp-" dean cut him off again "not happening" castiel was taken aback by his defensiveness. "yes dean i am not suggesting that i am to have intercourse with y/n" castiel shook his head looking to you in sheer disbelief.

you scoffed. "off limits?" you were pleased at the slip in his words. raising an eyebrow, a smirk grew across your face. "what's that mean dean?" dean's gaze dragged across your face as he stuttered to find the words. "i just- i-" his eyebrows knitted together trying to explain himself after realizing what he'd just said.

"i meant- what i meant was- oh shut up" he shook his head as his face turned red before making his way to stomp up the stairs. you looked to castiel who was already side eyeing you with a mix of confusion and concern. "whatever that means" he said with a confused frown.

you couldn't help but let your mind wander about what he had meant. was he just being protective because he cared for you? you had been hunting with the boys for years now, of course he cared about you. but something told you there was more to it than that.

the rest of the night had been silent after dean went sulking upstairs. having fallen asleep on the couch downstairs, you didn't hear a peep from him. that was until you were woken up by his obnoxious snoring. you stirred, scanning the dark for the source of the noise you were all too familiar with.

you'd found him laying on the wooden floor beside you, mouth wide open. even when trying to be angry, he'd always find his way back to you. you couldn't help but feel bad as you heard the decaying floor boards creek when he stirred in his sleep.

he groaned as you hung an arm off of the couch, nudging his shoulder trying to wake him. his brows furrowed as he frowned sleepily, slowly he opened his eyes. "mmm y/n? what's wrong?" he sat up worriedly. his glossy eyes looked up at you as he scanned your face. god he was so pretty looking up at you like that.

"you're on the ground dean" your head leaned to the side. "your very observant y/n" the end of his lip curled up in a half smirk.

"just shut up and get on the couch" you whispered. he wasn't one to argue when it came to being next to you. besides, you'd slept in closer quarters than this. as he laid on his back beside you, you got smooshed inbetween the cushions and his side. he laid his arms behind his head as you were forced into the nook of his neck.

the two of you laid like that in silence for a few minutes. with nothing but the sound of your breathing, you began to slowly drift off to sleep.

but you fought it. forcing yourself to stay awake, working up the courage to ask the question that was eating away at you. you'd gone long enough wondering what your relationship with dean really was. now that you had the opportunity to ask, you weren't gonna let it slip.

slowly he laid on his side to face you after realizing that he was essentially crushing you, not that you minded. he looked down as you were face to face with his chest, smiling softly. you perched your head up towards him. "hey" you whispered. "i have a question"

"oh god" his smile faded. "what is it?"

"what did you mean when you said i was off limits?" you faced your head down. now that you'd said it out loud you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. what if you had misinterpreted the whole thing?

"oh come on, you know what i meant" he whispered, trying to brush it off. being in the dark, you couldn't see his face turn bright red. you sat up, now annoyed with his disregard. how much longer was he going to keep this up? "no dean, i don't know what you meant." you spoke more harshly then you had meant to.

he sat up worriedly. the thought of him inadvertently hurting you killed him. he wanted you. of course he wanted you. it's just that he knew himself. knew he was incapable of anything real. knew he'd fuck it all up somehow, even if he wanted nothing more than to be with you. even if he knew he'd do everything in his power to keep that from happening. he couldn't. couldn't risk it.

"i just-" he stopped himself, sighing. "i don't know"

"off limits? why did you say that? do you own me dean?" you looked over to him. "am i yours?" your face grew hot as the words left your lips. you searched for an answer on his face but were only met with a blank stare.

"what? no i didn't mean it like that." dean was flustered again, returning to his usual method of avoiding eye contact. he had hoped if he stared at the wall long enough he'd disappear.

"what did you mean dean?" you leaned towards him, he turned to you. he looked worried, and honestly? pathetic. and suddenly your embarrassment flushed away as you watched the way his demeanor had changed. like he had been caught. you had him right where you wanted him, and he knew that.

"am i yours?" you whispered leaning closer, his breath hitched as you closed the distance. "do you want me to be?"

his heart sank into his stomach. was this really happening? or were you only getting back at him for all of his past teasings? he examined your face for any sign that you were messing with him, but he couldn't find one. he bit his bottom lip nervously, his doe eyes looking into yours. and then, he nodded.

god it was pitiful.

he couldn't even muster up the courage to say it out loud. like he was waiting for your permission. you smiled. "yes?" you were now inches from his face. he nodded again slowly, awe struck by how unreal this felt. he still wasn't sure that this was not a dream. "yes what dean?" your voice was soft. like a siren beckoning him, leading him to his answer.

"want you to be mine." he whispered, his mouth hung open as he watched you get closer and closer to his face. "yea?" you reached down to pull his hands onto your hips as you began to straddle him. you swore you could feel him shaking. he nodded. "mmhm" was the only noise he could get out.

you leaned in, pressing your lips against his softly. he let out a whimper before bringing his hands to hold your head before pulling you into him.

softly, you began pressing yourself into him. he groaned into the kiss, groaned at the feeling of himself growing against your warm body. he pulled you in deeper, his tongue in your mouth as his hands gripped on your hips so hard you were sure there'd be marks in the morning. "fuck" he groaned as you brought a hand down to his pleading cock.

"fuck you don't know how badly i wanted this" he groaned as you continued pressing into him. he tugged at the bottom of your shirt before gliding his hands to your center. he was so pitiful, so overwhelmed he couldn't figure out what he wanted to do first. see you? touch you? kiss you? he'd waited so long for this and now he didn't know what to do with himself.

you dragged his hand away from you, bringing it back to your hip. he sighed. "wanna make you feel good" he cried, the sensation of you touching him already going to his head, his breaths became faster as he seethed through his teeth.

"not yet baby, wanna watch you." he moaned at your words, his eyebrows knitting together. "is that ok?" you whispered. his eyes squeezed shut as he nodded. now he was sure he was dreaming.

you pressed your lips to his again, his right hand made it's way to your neck. you whimpered at the feeling as he moaned into the kiss, the pressure in his stomach building. he wasn't gonna make it much longer.

his left hand squeezed at your thigh as the strain on his cock became too much. "holy shit" he moaned breathily before pressing his head into your chest as his orgasm washed over him. he squeezed at your hips as he let out soft grunts, coming completely undone.

once it was over he looked up at you with pure awe in his eyes, catching his breath. you smiled softly, your pupils sure to be dilated at the sight of just how pathetic he had become under your touch. he pulled your lips to his, already missing the sensation. you steadied yourself, putting your hands on his shoulders as he dragged his mouth down to your neck.

you whimpered as he nipped at your neck fervently. he sucked at your skin desperately, determined to leave his mark. you whined at the sting of his teeth digging into your skin.

then, the creak of a floor board. you jolted off of him as he grabbed a pillow to cover his already returning erection.

"hello." castiel emerged from the darkness.

you half smiled as you sat on the couch next to a sweaty dean. "hi cas" deans voice cracked. the two of you sat with your hands in your laps. "what are you up to?" you tilted your head to the side.

"still awaiting my demise" he nodded, shifting back and forth with his hands held behind his back. "you two seem to be enjoying yourselves."

"what are you-" dean scoffed "what do you mean?" a terrible actor.

"you two are aware that i do not sleep." castiel squinted his eyes, genuinely confused at why dean seemed puzzled. you felt your face turn hot. "you heard all that?" you whispered, your face scrunching.

"felt rude to interrupt. however, it would appear that i may have miscalculated how long this endeavor would last. my apologies." castiel spoke sincerely, you and dean couldn't help but laugh.

"it's ok cas." you grinned. dean whipped his head towards you, 'it most certainly was not ok' he had screamed in his head. castiel displayed a sheepish grin.

"ok. i'm just going to go back to my chair now." he looked around the room before slowly entering the darkness.

you turned your head to dean, who was already smiling awkwardly at you. "there's always next time." you said, grabbing a blanket. the two of you laid down, your head resting on his chest. "oh so there's gonna be a next time?" he whispered. you smacked his side with the back of your hand.

you didn't have to look at him to know how quickly that cocky grin had spread across his face. "goodnight dean" you hummed, closing your eyes. "goodnight y/n"

“And?”

“And it’s gonna break. And then I’m gonna have to hear you whine about how that was your favorite.”

You straightened, a slow smile spreading across your face. “You broke it, you owe me a new one.”

“It hasn’t broken yet!”

“Because I have excellent placement skills!”

“Placement skills?” he echoed, laughing under his breath. “What are you, some kind of mug whisperer?”

You smirked, backing away from the dishwasher like you were defending a fortress. “Don’t be jealous because I’ve evolved beyond caveman dish stacking.”

Dean took a step closer, eyes glinting. “Caveman, huh?”

Your smirk widened. “You’re just mad I do it better than you.”

“I’m mad,” he said, cracking his neck, “that you clearly want a grappling match and are using dishes as a warm-up.”

You raised a brow, hands on your hips. “What, you think I can’t take you?”

Dean grinned, slow and dangerous. “I know you can’t.”

That was it.

Challenge accepted.

You lunged before he could finish the thought, catching him off guard and grabbing the collar of his flannel shirt. He laughed, twisting with you as the two of you stumbled into the center of the room. You knew you couldn’t take him down with strength, but leverage? Leverage and pure spite? That was your wheelhouse.

Dean managed to flip you once, half a second where you were suspended in air before he caught you and set you down with a smug, “Need a nap, sweetheart?”

You responded with a growl and swept his leg. It didn’t take him down, but it threw him off balance enough that he stumbled into the couch, and you used the opening to pounce again.

It devolved quickly into full-blown wrestling.

Hands slipping, limbs tangling, breath coming short with adrenaline and poorly disguised laughter.

You rolled across the rug, flipping him onto his back and straddling his hips. He smirked, grabbing your wrist and twisting with just enough force to flip you again.

“Oh, that’s how it is,” you muttered, breathless.

“That’s exactly how it is.”

The grin on his face was pure smugness and so stupidly pretty that for one second, you almost forgot what you were doing.

He went for your wrist again. You dodged, shoved, and turned, too fast, too sharp. His elbow came up at the exact wrong angle as you twisted to gain leverage.

You heard the thud before you felt it.

Deans elbow connected with your face.

His elbow didn’t give.

Your face did.

You cried out, stumbling back and clutching your eye, pain flaring behind your eyelid like a camera flash gone nuclear.

Dean’s whole body stilled.

“Oh, shit. Shit. Y/N…”

You waved him off with one hand while the other clutched your face. “I’m fine. I’m—ow. No. I lied. That hurts.”

“Let me see,” he said immediately, reaching for your hand.

You swatted him away. “Give me a second. I think I just saw God for a minute.”

Dean hovered, helpless and wide-eyed, hands twitching at his sides. “You’re bleeding.”

You groaned. “Wonderful. How bad is it?”

Before he could answer, footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Hey, did someone—”

Sam stopped in the doorway.

The scene in front of him must have been a lot to take in. You, on the floor, half-laughing and half-crying, holding your face. Dean kneeling beside you, shirt rumpled, looking guilty as sin and slightly terrified.

Sam blinked.

Dean opened his mouth.

“It’s not what it looks like!” you and Dean both blurted at the same time.

Sam raised a brow. “Okay, well it looks like Dean punched you in the face during foreplay.”

You barked out a laugh despite the pain. “You’re not completely wrong.”

“I didn’t punch her,” Dean said, horrified. “She ran into my elbow like a damn linebacker.”

Sam crossed his arms, trying not to smile. “So just a romantic injury, then.”

Dean shot him a glare. “She tackled me over a mug.”

“I was winning,” you added helpfully from the floor.

Dean looked down at you, eyes narrowing. “You were not winning.”

“I was on top, jackass.”

“You were distracted.”

You grinned through the swelling pain, and he caught it. Something in his expression flickered. Concern still hung in the air, but it softened with that twist of affection he had never been able to hide when it came to you.

Sam moved toward you, tilting your chin gently so he could get a look at the forming bruise.

“Gonna swell,” he muttered. “You’ll look like you lost a bar fight.”

“I’ll just say it was a demon,” you replied.

Dean groaned. “Do not tell people that.”

“I’ll say it looked like a demon. Talks like one. Smells like beer and leather.

“Alright,” Dean huffed, standing. “That’s it. I’m making you an ice pack before you start composing ballads.”

He stomped off to the kitchen.

Sam handed you a dish towel and lowered himself beside you. “You okay?”

You nodded, gently pressing the towel to your eye. “Yeah. I think I just forgot how to duck.”

Sam smirked. “Or maybe you forgot that Dean never knows when to quit.”

You let out a tired laugh. “That part, I remember.”

Dean returned with a lumpy bag of frozen peas wrapped in another towel and handed it to you with exaggerated care.

“For the record,” he muttered, “you fight dirty.”

“You had it coming,” you said, settling the ice against your face and sighing.

Dean crouched in front of you again, eyes flicking over your face like he was counting all the damage.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said quietly.

You softened, just a little. “I know.”

You chuckled, winced, and leaned your head back against the couch. Dean hesitated, then reached out and brushed his thumb just under your good eye. His gentle touch, more of an apology than words ever could express.

Sam returned your smile, before he quickly grabbed your bag taking it into his hand. “I’ll take this, thank you very much.”

His comment earning a soft giggle from you.

“Hey.” Dean greeted. “We ready to go?” He questioned, his voice breathy, as he placed his hands on his hips.

Sam nodded, before making his way towards the garage, leaving you and Dean alone. The tension between you, had been growing at a rapid rate lately. It had begun making anyone around you, uncomfortable. Sam was the only one who knew of your feelings for him. 

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He questioned, his mossy eyes sparkling.

You hummed in response, beginning to trudge down the corridor.

                                              ❋ ❋ ❋

Sighing for what felt like the thousandth time, you gazed out of the window, only to be met with cornstalks. The same that you’ve seen on the road, for the past few hours.

“Where did you say we were going?” You questioned, tugged one of your headphones out, gazing to the front seat between Dean and Sam.

“Do you not pay attention?” Dean snapped, glaring at you in the review mirror.

Frowning slightly, you dropped your gaze back to your lap. 

“Dean!” Sam hissed, his tone filled with annoyance. “She’s just asking a question.”

Dean scoffed, before rolling his eyes. “She should’ve been paying attention the first ten times we’ve said it.”

All of you had been stuck in the impala for the past Five hours. It was starting to get to everyone. 

Sam shot Dean a Bitch face, before scoffing. “We’re going to, Y/H/T.”

Ice began coursing through your veins. A squeak fell from your lips in response. Neither one of the boys, knew where you were from. Panic, quickly overwhelmed you at the thought of seeing your family again. It had been a few years since you had been back. 

“Y/N?” Sam asked turning around to face you slightly. “Everything alright?”

With widened eyes, you brought your gaze to meet Sam’s. You could only hum in response. 

“What’s wrong?” Sam continued to press.

“That’s...That’s my hometown.” You muttered, as your voice sounded hoarse.

Silence fell upon the three of you, as they registered what you had said.

                                          ❋ ❋ ❋

Dean, pulled the Impala into the motel parking lot. The rest of the ride there, was filled with silence. Neither one of them, attempted to have a conversation with you since.

“What’re you doing?” You questioned as Dean and Sam opened their car doors.

“Uh, what’s it look like I’m doing? Getting us a room.”

“No.” You spat. “Get back in the car.” You snapped.

“What?” Both boys, turned to each other in confusion. 

Closing their doors, Dean started the impala. 

“Where do you suggest we go then, princess.” His voice laced with venom, causing you to flinch.

“I’ll give you the directions.” You muttered, shaking your head before you resumed your gaze back out of the window.

                                       ❋ ❋ ❋

As Dean, pulled down the long dirt drive way, you didn’t miss the confused expression he exchanged with Sam.

“Uh-” Sam cleared his throat. 

“It’s my grandparents house.” You spoke. “After my family found out I was hunting, they were the only ones that didn’t disown me.” You breathed out, leaning back against the seat, crossing your arms along your chest.

“They-”

“Yeah.” You sighed cutting Sam off. “They know that I hunt.” 

Once the Dean pulled up to the farm house, the roar of the Impala was quieted. Stepping out of the car, you made your way to the trunk. 

“Y/N!” Your grandma and Grandpa greeted from the porch. “We’re so happy to see you!”

Chuckling, you couldn’t stop the toothy grin that made it’s way to your lips. “Grandmama!” You greeted, running up the stairs, dropping your bag. 

Both of your grandparents, pulled you in for a bone crushing hug.

Sam, and Dean stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs. 

“You’re not allowed to go that long without talking or seeing us again.” Your grandma spoke, pulling away from the hug gripping your biceps. 

Nodding your head, you agreed.

“Who are these lovely men?” She questioned, turning you towards them.

“This is Sam and Dean...Winchester.” You spoke hesitantly. Glancing up to gaze at the boys, they both shot you a confused expression.

“Winchester?” Your grandpa questioned in a stern voice. “As in John Winchester’s boys?” 

Gulping, you nodded. 

“Well, I’ll be damned.” 

Not giving your grandpa a chance to say anything else, your grandma spoke up.

“Let me show you to your rooms.” She spoke, motioning for everyone to follow her.

“Here is the guest rooms.”

“Thank you, Grandmama.” You spoke, smiling at her.

“Dinner will be ready in an hour. Hopefully that’s enough time for everyone to get settled in.” She spoke in a sweet tone. 

You and Sam began moving past her, ready to get changed and relaxed.

Gripping Dean’s elbow, she halted his movements. “A little birdy told me you like Pie.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” His husky voice responded, causing you to stop your actions, and gaze at the interaction going on before you.

“Good.” She patted him on the back. “Finally, I have someone to make apple pie for.” She pinched his cheek, before making her way towards the kitchen.

Chuckling, he sent her a grin before turning his attention back down the hall.

“I like her.” He muttered as he stood before you. 

Rolling your eyes, you giggled. “That’s because she’s going to make you homemade pie.”

Both of you shared a chuckle in the hallway.

“Uh, guys.” Sam’s voice spoke, pulling your attention towards him. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s only two rooms. I’m not sharing.” He spoke, before shutting his door. 

Silence fell between you and Dean once again. It was quickly replaced by the sound of Sam locking his door. Smirking, you shook your head.

“Come on, Winchester.” You spoke nodding towards the room. “Let’s get to it.” 

                                              ❋ ❋ ❋

Getting out of the shower, you wrapped your towel around your body tightly. Opening the door, you stepped out into the room you were sharing with Dean. 

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone. Once he heard the door open, he quickly glanced up before dropping his gaze to his phone. 

“Shower’s all yours.” You spoke, making your way to your side of the bed.

Not only would you have to be sharing a room, but you would have to be sharing a bed as well. 

Clearing his throat, he tore his lingering gaze from you. Nodding he muttered a quick, ‘Thanks.’ 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, knowing that you had his attention in that moment. Once you were dressed, you laid on the bed attempting to relax. When Dean exited the bathroom, he sent you another confused expression.

“What?” You asked, lifting your graze from your phone, to follow him.

“Is...Is that my shirt?” He questioned, tilting his head slightly, as he crawled next to you.

Furrowing your eyebrows together, you frowned. “I...” Glancing down, he was right. You had stolen the shirt awhile ago. It was something that you had become an expert at. As the realization dawned on you, it was then his scent filled your nose as it rose from the shirt. 

“Sorry.” You whispered. “I can take it off.” You offered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

“No!” He quickly responded. Clearing his throat, he scratched the back of his neck. “No. It...It looks good on you.”

Grinning you nodded. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

As you laid on the bed, both of you were on your phones laying in a comfortable silence. 

Locking his phone, he turned to lay on his side, allowing him to face you.

Glancing at him, you did the same. Both of you facing each other. You couldn’t help your eyes from wondering around his face, counting each freckle he hand that danced along his cheeks, along his nose.

Your heart was beating faster, like it usually did when you and Dean were in close proximity. A comfortable sigh escaped your lips. 

Before you knew it, you were placing your leg on Dean’s hip, as you chest to chest. Bringing your hand up to his face, you began running your fingers through his light stubble. Your close proximity causing your noses to lightly brush against each other.

“Sweetheart...” His husky voice breaking the silence. 

Furrowing your eyebrows together, you gazed at him with a saddened expression. “So..Sorry.” You stuttered. 

Unwrapping yourself from him, you began moving away from him. Much to your surprise, he threw his arm around your waist before tugging you back into your previous position. 

“Don’t.” He whispered, gazing into your eyes.

“I...I thought you saw me as a sister.” You frowned, closing your eyes allowing yourself to rest your forehead against his. Your hand resting on his jaw where it previously was.

“Why would you think that?” His voice soft.

“I...I...”

“I don’t want to hold myself back from you anymore.” His voice sounding deeper than before.

Leaning the small distance, his lips lightly pressed against yours.

Once you pulled away, you giggled causing Dean to frown. 

“I know you can do better than that, Winchester.” 

Taking you by surprise, a squeal left your lips as your back was met with the mattress. Dean, rested on his forearms that were on either side of your head. His lips captured yours hungrily. Biting your bottom lip, he gently pulled back before letting it snap back into place. Licking the seam of your lips, he silently gained entrance in your mouth. He began tracing every nook and cranny until he was satisfied. 

Pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours, as your breath intermingled. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do that, sweetheart.” He spoke, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

Grinning, you nodded. “I think I do.”

A firm knock echoed through the room. “Guys, dinner’s ready. You two can make out later!” Sam teased. “Hurry up! I’m starving!”

-----

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It wasn’t planned. Nothing about Dean ever feels planned, really. He’s a mess of contradictions—cocky and self-assured one minute, guarded and vulnerable the next. You’ve been riding shotgun with him for weeks now, chasing down leads, salt-and-burning restless spirits, and fighting things most people wouldn’t dare to believe existed. Somewhere along the way, you became more than just hunting partners. You don’t know what to call it yet, but there’s a connection between you, an unspoken pull that you’ve both been too stubborn—or scared—to acknowledge.

Until now.

It starts with an argument. Of course it does. Dean has this way of pushing your buttons, and tonight he’s doing it with the precision of a master.

“You can’t just run in there without a plan!” you snap, your arms crossed over your chest.

“And what was your plan, huh?” he shoots back, his voice rising. “To stand around and wait until the ghost decides to play nice? That’s not how this works.”

“It’s called strategy, Dean. Maybe you should try it sometime instead of going full kamikaze every damn hunt!”

He scoffs, dragging a hand down his face in frustration. “You know what your problem is? You think too much. Sometimes you just gotta act.”

“And you think too little!” you retort, your eyes narrowing. “One of these days, your impulsiveness is going to get you killed.”

The words hang in the air, sharper than you intended, and for a moment, Dean just stares at you. His jaw tightens, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—hurt, maybe, or regret—but it’s gone before you can be sure.

“Fine,” he says, his voice quieter now. “If you’ve got it all figured out, why the hell do you even need me?”

It’s not the first time you’ve fought, but there’s something different about this one. The air between you feels charged, like the storm rolling in above. You don’t answer right away, and Dean takes a step closer, his boots crunching against the gravel.

“Why, huh?” he presses, his tone softer but no less intense. “Why do you keep sticking around if I’m such a screw-up?”

Your heart pounds against your ribs, a wild, erratic rhythm that matches the storm clouds overhead. You open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat. Because it’s not that simple. Because you don’t stick around in spite of his flaws—you stick around because of them. Because Dean Winchester, for all his faults, is the kind of person who will throw himself in harm’s way without a second thought to save someone else. Because he’s loyal to a fault, fiercely protective, and has a smile that could light up the darkest corners of the world, even when he doesn’t believe it himself.

“Dean…” you start, but his name barely makes it past your lips before he moves.

It’s not hesitant or tentative—it’s sudden, like he’s been holding himself back for too long and finally snapped. His hands cup your face, rough and calloused but somehow gentle, and then his lips are on yours.

The kiss is everything you didn’t know you needed. It’s not perfect—Dean’s lips are a little chapped, and the angle is slightly awkward at first—but it’s real. There’s an urgency to it, a raw, unfiltered emotion that leaves you breathless. His hands are warm against your skin, grounding you even as the world seems to tilt on its axis.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly your hands are fisting in his jacket, pulling him closer as if the space between you is unbearable. He responds in kind, deepening the kiss with a low, almost involuntary sound that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s like the dam you’ve both been holding back has finally burst, and there’s no going back now.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing hard, your foreheads pressed together. The storm is closer now, the first drops of rain starting to fall, but neither of you seems to notice.

“Wow,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dean chuckles, a low, self-deprecating sound. “Yeah, uh… sorry about that. I probably should’ve—”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, your fingers still gripping his jacket. “Don’t apologize.”

His eyes meet yours, and for once, there’s no wall, no mask, no bravado. Just Dean.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admits, his voice soft and almost vulnerable.

You smile, your heart swelling in your chest. “Took you long enough.”

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine, and the tension between you finally seems to ease. The rain starts to pick up, but neither of you moves. For once, the hunt can wait. For once, the only thing that matters is this moment—messy, imperfect, and absolutely perfect all at once.

the way you had gotten yourself into this situation was stupid really. it had all started when dean had gotten a call about bobby being in some sort of sleep state he couldn't wake up from. further investigation had lead you to a man named jeremy frost.

you and dean had gone to inquire about the seemingly harmless student. he'd been a test subject for a sleep experiment conducted by a recently deceased doctor at the local college. frost had offered dean a beer, and of course dean accepted. unaware that his dna along with a tea made of something called "african dreamroot" was all frost needed to infiltrate his mind and well. kill him.

this eventually lead to your current predicament.

dean was acting crazy. he hadn't slept in two days in an attempt to avoid being killed by jeremy. but the caffeine could only do so much, and his patience was wearing thin.

you had been asleep in the back of the impala when dean whipped the car into a patch of woods off the highway. "all right. that's it i'm done"

"what are you doing?" sam became flustered. the two of you had already been on edge these past 48 hours. you genuinely thought dean was gonna kill the waitress earlier when he learned they were fresh out of fries.

"taking myself a long-overdue nap" dean layed his head dramatically on the head rest.

"what?" you sat up groggily in the back. rubbing your eyes to look around, you saw nothing but trees.

"dean, jeremy can come after you!" sam looked back to you, sharing a look of awe at dean's sheer stupidity.

"that's the idea" dean's eyes were already shut. you shook your head.

"excuse me?" sam's concern only grew.

"dean quit acting stupid" you were already annoyed at his indifference.

"come on man. we can't find him, so let him come to me." sam scoffed, shaking his head. "on his own turf? where he's basically a god?"

"i can handle it"

"not alone you can't'" sam ripped a piece of dean's hair out of his head, dean winced sitting up. "what are you doing?" he yelled.

"coming in with you" sam spoke sternly. "no you're no- OW!" you had ripped a piece of his hair out as well.

"oh no you are definitely not!" dean turned to point at you.

"yea right i'm not gonna sit here and watch you two sleep"

"i don't want the two of you digging around in my head!"

"too bad" sam said, before the two of you reached for the african dreamroot.

moments later you were being shaken awake by dean.

"Y/N!" he yelled. "i'm up i'm up" you rubbed your eyes. "did it work?" you looked around to find yourselves still in that same patch of grass. the moonlight shined through the branches of the trees.

"i have no idea" sam spoke softly, looking around in search of anything out of place. the three of you sat in silence before you heard it.

a gunshot in the distance.

slowly you guys made your way out of the car, walking in the direction of the noise.

"do you think it could be jeremy?" you walked between the two of them in the dark. "could be anything" sam scanned the night around him. dean began to walk in front of the two of you. "come on let's find this son of a bitch so i can rest peacefully"

suddenly you heard a branch snap somewhere in the gloomy forest. you turned around to study your surroundings. "dean?" a women spoke from behind you. sam scoffed.

"dean i missed you" the voice was familiar. too familiar.

"baby where you been?" nothing could have prepared you for what you saw when you turned around.

there stood you. well, a version of you. a version that wore a skin tight black dress that barely covered your ass, accompanied with sheer black tights. you wore black thigh high boots, and a knife in a holster on your thigh.

you raised your eyebrows as your mouth fell open, watching as you walked towards dean. the boys looked her up and down, "was going crazy without you baby" the clone smiled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

dean smiled like an idiot. "i don't know what this is about" he stood in awe as she cradled his face with her hand. you looked to sam who was incredibly amused, covering his mouth to hide his laughter. you shook your head. "follow me" she spoke slowly, biting her lip before grabbing his hand and leading him further into the night.

"i don't know if i wanna" you followed behind, watching as your hips swayed dramatically.

in dean's dream the three of you had been separated, finding jeremy before he inevitably attacked. before you knew it the three of you woke up in the impala again.

"damn it!" dean yelled, frustrated with frost being able to escape yet again.

"we'll get him, we will" sam reassured him. you looked between the two of them. "so we gonna talk about it?" you asked.

"no" dean spoke stiffly, looking at you in the rear view mirror for a millisecond before quickly starting the impala to drive to the nearest motel.

you and sam sat on the edge of the bed, heads moving left to right as the two of you watched dean pace around fervently.

"dean it's really not a big deal" you said, sensing his self-consciousness in the way he hadn't looked you in the eyes since you'd gotten here.

"it's embarrassing!" he shot you a look, before scaring away from the eye contact.

"no it's not! i'm sure i've had dreams about you in" you paused. "weird outfits" you were trying your best to comfort him. he looked up to you with a stupid smirk. "have you?"

"well, not that i can remember" you frowned. he closed his eyes shaking his head in defeat.

"it's fine dean it's really nothing to be embarrassed about" sam said, dean looked at him with an unnerving fierceness in his eyes. "oh yeah sam?" dean walked closer. "nothing to be embarrassed about?" dean quickly ripped a piece of hair out of sam's head. sam winced, rubbing his head and frowned. "ow"

dean took your hand, placing one of the strands he'd retrieved into your palm. "oh come on man-"

"go to sleep! both of you!" dean shouted, sitting on the bed beside the two of you.

"come on is this really necessa-" he cut you off "sleep!" you gave up on protesting, getting up to grab what was left of the dreamroot.

you woke up to the sounds of birds chirping. you covered your eyes blinded by the sun shining in your eyes. looking around you found sam and dean slowly coming to. you were surrounded by green pastures, little white flowers growing from the ground.

"really man? this is your dream?" dean stood up, wiping dirt off of his pants. "don't judge me!" sam said offendedly.

"better than the wet forest" you stood up watching as a blue bird flew from one tree to another.

"freaking fairytale land" dean scoffed.

"sam! sam is that you?"

sam shut his eyes and froze. dean belted out laughing, holding his stomach. "oh my god!"

"shut up" sam muttered.

you watched as a glowing figure dropped down from a horse, approaching the three of you.

"sam?" you squinted at the gleaming figure. when your eyes finally adjusted to the light you couldn't help but smile. there stood yet another version of yourself. only this time you wore a flowing white dress with dainty sleeves longer than your arms, delicate lace details sewn throughout. in your right hand a silver sword.

"well! answer the woman!" dean's whole face was lit up, already forgetting his embarrassment.

sam looked at you, flushing red. "i'm so sorry" you smiled.

"sammy! oh it's really you!" you walked towards him, looking up to him and placing your hand on his cheek. you watched as he tried to fight the urge of melting into her touch. your touch.

he snapped out of it, looking over to dean. "are we done here?"

"I don't know..." dean smirked, before raising his brows to look at you "think we should go into y/n's dreams next"

"hell no"

By the time the last werewolf was dead, Dean was running on fumes. Sam had taken a nasty hit but was still standing, while you—you’d fought like hell, never backing down, even when things looked bad. Dean had seen you take a few hard knocks, and it had worried him, but he knew better than to try and tell you to sit out. You were too stubborn for that, and he respected you for it, even if it made him want to wrap you in bubble wrap sometimes.

After the fight, they’d made their way back to the motel, dragging their tired bodies inside and collapsing onto the worn-out furniture. Sam had headed straight for the shower, leaving Dean alone with you in the small, dimly lit room. The adrenaline was still wearing off, leaving him shaky and wired, his mind replaying the close calls over and over.

Dean glanced over at you, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. You looked as tired as he felt, your shoulders slumped, your face smeared with dirt and blood. But there was something else there, too—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the way you were holding yourself, like you were carrying a weight too heavy for your small frame. Or maybe it was the way your eyes had that faraway look, like you were somewhere else entirely.

He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words got stuck in his throat. What could he say that would make a difference? That they’d survived? That they’d made it through another day? It felt hollow, like an empty victory. But as he stood there, searching for the right words, you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his.

And then you were moving, crossing the small space between you in just a few steps. Before Dean could process what was happening, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

For a split second, Dean froze, his brain trying to catch up with his body. He wasn’t used to this—physical affection, comfort, whatever you wanted to call it. Sure, he’d hugged people before, but it was always brief, a quick, reassuring squeeze before moving on. This was different. This was you, holding onto him like he was something solid, something real.

And that was when it hit him. The full weight of everything they’d been through, everything he’d been holding inside. The fear, the anger, the guilt—it all came rushing to the surface, nearly knocking the breath out of him. But instead of pushing it down, instead of brushing it off like he usually did, Dean let himself feel it. Just for a moment, he let himself lean into you, his arms coming up to wrap around you in return.

You were warm, solid, grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected. He could feel the steady beat of your heart against his chest, the rise and fall of your breath. It was comforting, more comforting than he’d ever admit out loud. Dean closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the embrace, letting himself forget, if only for a moment, about everything outside that small, dimly lit room.

The hug lasted longer than it probably should have, but neither of you seemed in any hurry to pull away. And honestly, Dean didn’t want to. There was something about being in your arms that made him feel… safe. It was a strange feeling, one he wasn’t used to, but it wasn’t unwelcome. It was like for the first time in a long time, he could just be Dean—not the hunter, not the protector, just Dean.

When you finally did pull away, it was slow, reluctant, like neither of you really wanted to break the connection. But eventually, you did, taking a small step back, your eyes searching his for… something. Dean wasn’t sure what, but he could see the question there, the unspoken need for reassurance.

He offered you a small, crooked smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes but was real all the same. “We’re okay,” he said softly, the words feeling inadequate but true nonetheless.

You nodded, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other. There was something different between you now, something that hadn’t been there before. The air felt charged, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid. Dean could feel it in his chest, a strange, fluttering sensation that he wasn’t sure how to deal with.

But instead of overthinking it, instead of trying to analyze what it all meant, Dean did what he always did. He pushed it down, locked it away in that little box in his mind where he kept all the things he didn’t know how to handle. But even as he did, he knew this was different. This wasn’t something he could just ignore and hope it went away. This was you, and that changed everything.

Dean cleared his throat, glancing away as if breaking eye contact would somehow break the spell. “You should get cleaned up,” he said, his voice gruffer than he intended. “Get some rest.”

You nodded again, but before you turned away, you reached out, squeezing his arm. It was a brief touch, but it was enough to send that strange, fluttering sensation racing through him again. And then you were gone, heading toward the bathroom, leaving Dean standing there, alone with his thoughts.

As the sound of the shower filled the small motel room, Dean sank down onto the bed, running a hand through his hair. He let out a long breath, the events of the night finally catching up to him. But even as the exhaustion pulled at him, all he could think about was you—how it had felt to hold you, to be held by you.

It left him with a feeling he couldn’t quite shake, something warm and unsettling all at once. Dean wasn’t sure what it meant, wasn’t sure he was ready to figure it out. But he knew one thing for certain: that hug had changed something inside him. It had cracked open a part of him he’d kept locked away for so long, a part he hadn’t even realized was there anymore.

And now, as he sat there in the quiet room, he couldn’t help but wonder what came next. Because if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he couldn’t go back to the way things were before. Not after that. Not after you.

“Dean?” you murmur, your voice thick with sleep and surprise. He doesn’t answer immediately, just settles beside you, closer than he’s ever been. His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you against his chest. The weight of his body, the solid warmth of him, is comforting in a way that’s both familiar and strange at the same time.

“Sorry,” he finally mutters, his voice a rough whisper in the stillness. “I just… I couldn’t sleep.”

You can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles are coiled tight as if he’s waiting for you to push him away, to tell him to leave. But you don’t. Instead, you reach up and gently run your fingers through his hair, soothing and calming. It’s a small gesture, but it seems to be exactly what he needs.

Dean exhales, a long, shaky breath that you didn’t realize he was holding. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel the faint tremble in his shoulders. It’s then that you realize just how much he’s been holding in, all the stress and fear he never lets anyone see. The weight of the world on his shoulders is too much for him tonight, and he’s turned to you for comfort, something he’s never done before.

“I’m here,” you whisper back, your hand moving in slow, calming strokes through his hair and across his back. “You’re not alone.”

He doesn’t say anything more, just holds you tighter, as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. You can feel his breath against your skin, warm and steady now, and you know he’s starting to relax. Slowly, his tension melts away, and you feel him begin to drift off, his grip on you loosening slightly but never fully letting go.

You close your eyes again, your heart beating a little faster, a little steadier, knowing that for tonight, you’re the one thing keeping Dean Winchester from falling apart. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough to help you both find a little peace in the darkness.

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