#tales89writes

“Really? Oh, that’s too bad, but… Does Batman wanna come trick or treating with mommy then?” You called back with a small smile. One that only grew from the happy squeal leaving your little vigilante as he bounced into view. Before carefully taking the stairs the moment you reminded him not to run down the carpeted staircase. 

“Yes! Batman wants candy!” His young voice was still high pitched and innocent. But Lucas still tried to mimic the deep, whispered voice of Batman as he hurried down the stairs. His Batman mask was slightly crooked on his freckled nose as he came to a full stop in front of you with green eyes looking up at you in anticipation. 

“Alright then Batman. It’s just you and me today then. We’ll have to bring some candy back for Lucas too,” You said with a soft laugh as you kneeled down to fix his crooked mask and smooth his slightly tousled nest of hair. 

“It’s me mommy!” Your little guy whispered as he lifted the mask, showing you his best conspiratory look as he gently placed the mask back on, just as crooked as it had been before you initially fixed it. 

“It’s a secret, hussssh” He continued as he let you fix his mask for him once more. 

“Mommy won’t tell anyone. Promise. Now, are you ready to go trick or treating pumpkin? Remember, we have to be back before it gets dark,” You asked your little superhero as you reached out for his Batman windbreaker and helped him put it on. 

“Yes! Trick or Treat!” He called out loudly and cheerfully, just like you’d practiced. Giving him a warm smile, you grabbed his little bucket in one hand, before reaching out to put his small hand in your free one. Ready to go door to door in search of treats, and hopefully no tricks. 

--- 

Halloween had never been your favorite time of year. Which was understandable, given how you’d grown up. But Lucas had given you a newfound appreciation for the day. And though you were still slightly on edge as you scanned the busy crowds out in your little, safe, cul de sac, you were much more at ease than you’d been when you first left the hunting life behind you. 

Which was probably how you missed the two men mingling with the crowds dressed in suits, stopping parents to show off fake FBI badges as you focused on getting your son from one house to the next. Along with a few of the other neighborhood moms. 

Hell, you even missed the clearly lustful looks thrown their way by Sharon, your neighbor three houses down from yours. Even though she was barely watching her own little monsters as they tried to steal an extra chocolate bar from the bowl, choosing instead to oogle the two agents as they quietly questioned parents a bit further down the road, making their way up towards you. 

Honestly, even if you had noticed him before Tara had leaned over to you to whisper some not so child friendly words into your ear, you weren’t sure what you would’ve done. Would you have ran away? Maybe… Frozen in place? Probably. 

Considering that was exactly what you ended up doing. Your hand squeezed Lucas’ a little as you gently pulled your little superhero behind you and let your eyes follow Tara’s down the street, just a little past the next house your route would take you to. Where a face you thought you’d never see again was looking back at you, green eyes wide and FBI badge lowered from where he’d just raised it to interrogate yet another thirsty soccer mom. 

“Dean,” The name that once had tasted sweeter than pie on your lips came out as a broken whisper as you tried, and failed, to tear your eyes off of the devastatingly handsome man. 

“Wait, you know him? When did you meet an FBI agent (Y/N)? And can you introduce me to his partner?” Tara asked, a little too loudly for your liking, next to you as her excited eyes went from you and over to Dean before coming right back to you again. 

“I… Yeah, I know him. Look, Tara. Could you take Lucas to the next house? I should… Say hi?” You managed to push the words out as you fought against the nearly nostalgic cotton mouthed feeling Dean Winchester always left you with. Though you were still not sure you had what it took to speak to him after… What had happened. You really had no choice. Not only because he’d spotted you. But because he was there. On your street. 

And when a Winchester came to your street, it was usually not just for a friendly visit. 

But still, you couldn’t bring Lucas with you. Not when the bright green eyes and dusting of freckles over a button nose easily betrayed whose son he was. A son Dean had no clue you’d been raising for the last five years ever since he pushed you away. 

“Only if you get me the number of that tall drink of water over there,” She shot back, already undressing Sam with her best bedroom eyes as you rolled your eyes at her. 

“Tara, you’re married. Happily at that,” You reminded your best ‘mom friend’ as she grinned back at you. 

“A girl can dream (Y/N),” She laughed, before shooting you a small cheeky wink, and dropping down to speak to Lucas instead. 

“Lucas…” She started, before your little guy shook his head quickly, still hidden from Dean’s view behind you. 

“Batman,” Lucas corrected as he clutched his bucket of sweets. As if he was afraid his aunty Tara was planning to steal his hard earned loot. 

“Alright Batman. Do you wanna come with aunty and Robbie to the next house? Your mommy needs to go talk to someone,” Tara said as she reached out her free hand, patiently pretending she couldn’t feel her own one year younger kid pulling at her other hand for her to hurry. As if the little ninja turtle next to her thought the houses would run out of candy if they didn’t hurry. 

“Can I mommy?” Lucas looked up at you through his little Batman mask. Puppy eyes fully engaged as he looked from his bucket of treats and back up at you, as if to stay he still didn’t have enough sugar to last him till next Halloween. 

Even though he already had plenty. 

“Go ahead, pumpkin. Mommy will be right there,” You nodded as you let go of his little hand and let Tara grab it instead. Somewhat reluctantly, as your hunting instincts always worried when the apple pie of your eye was out of reach. 

Giving your friend a grateful smile, you watched the three of them for a second as they walked up the path to the next house. Smiling slightly at Batman’s happy bounce up the footpath, before you turned back to look at Dean again. 

Only to realize he was no longer there. 

“(Y/N),” Just as you were about to scan the crowd for him, the sound of his voice to the left of you made you jump slightly as you cursed your rusty reflexes and pivoted to face him. Doing your absolute damndest to pretend his deep voice didn’t still send pleasurable shockwaves through your body. 

“Dean,” You whispered back as you tried to find your voice under the breathless vertigo that always took over whenever Dean Winchester was anywhere nearby. 

“Thank God. When we didn’t hear anything I thought you…” He said, relief evident in his voice, though you could also hear the early warning signs of worried anger brewing just under the surface. Though he had no right to be angry at you. Not since… 

Not after what happened that night. 

“I’m fine. I just… I quit the business,” You shot back, biting back the words you actually wanted to tack on to the end of your sentence… After you broke my heart. But by the way Dean’s shoulders fell, and the way his worried anger retreated behind a veil of sadness and regret in green eyes, you knew he’d still caught the silent addition to your sentence in your slightly narrowed eyes. 

“Oh…” Was all he managed to push out as he dug his hands into his suit pockets. Fidgeting in front of you in the same way Lucas always did whenever you caught him doing something naughty. 

Like father, like son. 

“Yeah,” You sighed, keeping back the many words you wanted to say as you threw a wary glance over to where Tara and the boys had just reached the next house. Though Dean’s next words forced your eyes back on him. 

“I missed you…” He started, before a quick shake of your head stopped him from continuing. 

“Dean… It was your choice,” You shot back, a small grimace of pain following your words as you remembered that fateful night when Dean Winchester broke your heart. For your own good, he’d said. But it had been anything but. 

You’d loved him, with every damn cell in your body. Hell, you still did. But according to him, six years ago, the two of you had been a liability. You were a weak spot he couldn’t protect. And that scared him. Enough to let you go. Even when you begged him not to.

“I know, and I’ve been regretting it ever since,” Dean broke through your trip down memory lane as he reached out to you in that achingly familiar way he’s done so many times before, to brush some stray hairs out of your eyes. Yet, before those slightly calloused fingers could reach you and burn against your skin, you sidestepped him and crossed your arms. Hugging yourself close as you suddenly felt very underdressed in your Wonder Woman costume. 

“It’s too late for regrets,” You whispered, unable and unwilling to meet his eyes as you instead looked around at the crowds or trick or treaters. More specifically their parents, your neighbors. Many of whom were looking your way. Or more like Dean’s way. Since his FBI outfit stood out among the costumes. 

“I…” Dean started, but you simply shook your head before cutting off whatever he was trying to say.

“Why are you here? Is there a… Anything I should be wary of?” You hesitated over your words. Keeping them vague enough to not arouse the suspicion or attention of one of your nosier neighbors as you felt your muscles tense. Still strong and lithe enough, even six years after your retirement. As you refused to rest on your laurels and kept up your training. Just in case your past caught up to you. If only to protect Lucas. 

“No,” Dean said as you eyed him warily. Not buying the single syllable answer. 

“I promise, there’s nothing here. We’re just looking for someone living nearby who can help us out on a… Case,” He explained, keeping his words equally vague as he let his eyes travel across the crowds that were all inexplicably slowing down when they got close to where the two of you were standing. Looking for the latest piece of juicy cul de sac gossip most likely.

“Alright, that’s good,” You said, a relieved sigh leaving you as your tense shoulders relaxed. Lucas was still safe. You both were. Which was all that mattered. It was all that could matter. Dean couldn’t. Not anymore.

“(Y/N)...” Dean tried. Though you knew what he wanted to say. And you couldn’t have that conversation. Not in the middle of the street with Mr. Brown, your neighborhood gossip, dressed as Frankenstein casting not-so-hidden curious glances in your direction. 

“Look Dean. I’ve gotta go,” You rushed out, avoiding his pleading eyes as you busied yourself with fixing the already perfect whip of truth replica on your hip.

“But…” Dean kept pushing, his hand once more reaching out for you, as if to stop you from slipping through his fingers. 

Yet, before he could continue, or you could think up any excuse, an excited little voice loudly called out to you from your right. A small little streak of black and yellow wobbling up towards you with one hand lifted high in victory. 

“Mommy! Look! They gave me a big chocolate!”

As you refocused your attention towards your little superhero, you barely caught how Dean’s eyes opened wide as they went from you over to the little Batman hurrying up towards you as fast as his little feet could carry him. Cringing internally, you still pretended you didn’t notice the look he threw you as you instead kept your eyes on Lucas.

“Is he…” Dean started, but you missed the question as you wiped the heartbreak from your eyes and focused your attention back on your son. Dropping down to his level, you let him run into your arms waving the chocolate bar in his little hand. 

“Wow! That’s great, pumpkin! Did you say thank you?” You said, adding a layer of fake cheer into your voice as you squeezed your little treasure closer.

“I did! And I said Trick or Treat too!” Lucas said as he wiggled slightly out of your arms without actually leaving the hug to look up at you with a proud beaming smile. Clearly wanting to show you how he was a big boy now. 

“You did great! Such a big boy!” You praised as you ruffled the little nest of messy dark blonde hair on top of his head. 

“Hey there Batman,” Next to you Dean had also crouched down to be at Lucas’ height as he shot him a small smile. Before looking over at you out of the corner of his eyes, making you freeze up as you held your son closer. 

“Who are you?” Lucas asked, suddenly shy as he half hid behind you, still clutching the chocolate bar in his small hand.  

“I’m a friend of your mother’s,” Dean said with a soft smile as he looked down at the full bucket of halloween treats. His eyes wide in admiration, though you could still see the hint of heartbreak and loss behind those green orbs as he clearly came to the wrong conclusion regarding your son. Imagining another man where there wasn’t one, and probably never would be. Yet he didn’t let it show to Lucas as he beamed at him. “Wow! You’ve gotten loads today, haven’t you?”

“Yeah! Mommy taught me how!” Lucas said proudly as he wiggled fully out of your arms now that he knew the man wasn’t one of the scary strangers you’d cautioned him of. Gingerly putting down his bucket, Lucas lifted his mask to properly take in his haul and show his new friend all his treats. 

Without the mask, there was no denying whose son he was. And as recognition flashed in Dean’s eyes, you knew he hadn’t missed the similarities between your child and him as he looked back up at you. An endless amount of questions painting his green eyes a deeper shade as he looked between Lucas and you. 

Wetting dry lips, you took a shaky breath as you gave Lucas a strained smile. Avoiding Dean’s eyes as you focused all your attention on your little superhero instead. 

“Mommy still needs to talk to her friend. Why don’t you go with Aunty Tara to the next house, alright Batman?” You finally managed to push out as you gently fixed your son’s mask and tried to soften the edges of your smile as you gave him a little nod towards where Tara was waiting when he seemed to hesitate.

“Will you come soon too Mommy?” He asked, his young little voice seeming a little dejected as he looked from his candy haul and up at you. 

“I will baby,” You softened as you placed a feather light kiss on his crown of messy hair.

“Promise?” The mini Batman asked as he set those big green puppy eyes in you. Eyes you could never resist. From neither of the two men to either side of you. 

“Pinky promise,” You swore, crossing your heart before stretching out your pinky and linking it with your son’s.

Giving you a sloppy kiss on your cheek, Lucas finally seemed happy with your answer as he grabbed his little pumpkin shaped bucket again as hurried back over to Robbie and Tara while loudly telling them both that “mommy said she’s coming soon”. 

For a second, Dean stayed silent next to you as you both got up from where you’d been crouched to speak to Lucas. The sounds of children’s laughter and hushed conversations between nosy neighbors filled the space between the two of you as you looked for a place to have the conversation you’d never thought you’d actually have to have. But as Dean grabbed your wrist, you were left stuck in place in the middle of the busy sidewalk. 

“Is he…” Dean started, not letting you move away from the crowd before he asked the question that had been shining out behind green eyes since he put two and two together. 

“Let’s go somewhere else…” You hesitated, throwing cautious glances at the crowds around you. Though most of them had seemingly grown bored of your conversation once they realized nothing juicy was being said.

“Is he my son (Y/N)?” Dean insisted, though he kept his voice low and his words barely a whisper. Keeping them between just the two of you. 

“... Dean,” You sighed, still not meeting his eyes as you looked around you. Making sure no one had heard his question. But Dean didn’t let you shift the topic as he shook his head and kept his hand circled securely around your wrist. 

“(Y/N), please,” He nearly begged, squeezing your wrist softly to make you look up at him. The fractured light hitting green eyes nearly took your breath away as you saw the desperate need to know shining back at you.

“Yes. He…” Swallowing heavily you took a shaky breath, before once more looking down the street to find your little Batman in the crowds together with Tara. 

“Lucas is your son,” You finally continued as you found him. Happily talking Tara’s ear off like the little ladies’ man he was. 

“Lucas,” Dean said carefully. Rolling the name around on his tongue as he followed your gaze down to look, awestruck, at his son. 

“Yeah, he’s just turned five not long ago,” You added with a soft smile. Remembering the late September birthday party. Which, no surprise, had been fully Batman themed. Just like everything had been lately. 

“Five… Not long ago?” Dean questioned. Brows furrowed as he did the mental math. Counting backwards to the cold January night when he broke your heart. 

“I found out I was pregnant shortly after you told me to leave,” Your words came out a bit more bitter than you meant for them to be. The sour taste of heartbreak still made it hard to sweeten the words.

“I never told you to leave,” Dean shot in, arguing semantics as his hand tightened slightly around the wrist he was still holding onto. Tugging your hand gently towards you, you shook your head at him when he still refused to let go. Biting back a bitter laugh and unwanted tears as you took a shaky breath. 

“You told me we’d never work out. Did you really think I’d stick around after that?” You whispered, still managing to keep your voice low, though your emotions were causing havoc within your chest. Making it hard to even hear your own barely even there words.

“I just wanted you to be safe! You kept…” Dean’s voice was loud enough to draw a few more curious glances  as you shot him a wide eyed, panicked look before shaking your head imperceptibly. Wordlessly reminding him to be quiet. Taking a deep breath, Dean shot your nosy neighbors a shaky smile before leaning in closer and lowering his voice.

“Look, I know I fucked up. But, even if I did, how could you not tell me I had a son?” His whispered voice muted the incredulity and slight sadness at the betrayal in his tone, but it was still painfully clear to you as you grimaced. You knew you should’ve told him. But your wounds had just been so damn fresh. So instead you’d relied on excuses. The same you leaned on as you finally looked back up to meet his green eyes.

“I tried… Your number was disconnected. The only number I had for you. And… Hell, I just didn’t want to hurt anymore,” You sighed. Some of the truth slipping out together with your practiced excuse from nearly six years ago. 

“It was? Shit… Damn it. I lost a phone during a hunt. And I would’ve done anything to have you back (Y/N). There’s no way I would’ve hurt you. Not when every day without you was hell. Still, you could’ve called Sammy. Or just driven up to the bunker. Or…” Dean was ranting as his hand finally slipped from your wrist to card through his hair in frustration. Though, from the way his eyes fell to the forgotten badge in his own hand, you knew he was mainly blaming himself as he cut off his words with a tired sigh. 

“Maybe I could have, but I just… Fuck. I just couldn’t. You hurt me and..” Cutting yourself off with a shake of your head you wrapped your arms back around yourself as if to protect your barely patched up heart and wet dry lips. Before squeezing your eyes shut, in a foolish effort to shut the world out. 

For a few seconds, you let the silence settle between you as you tried to find the words. Knowing Dean was doing the same in front of you. Though you couldn’t see him as you kept your eyes closed and let the bright dots floating in your cut off vision hypnotize you believing none of it had happened. That you were still just next to your son. Not being confronted with the ghosts of your own messy past. 

“Look Dean… I can’t do this. Not tonight. Not while I’m dressed as fucking Wonder Woman,” You finally said with a tired shrug of your shoulders as you finally opened your eyes and met Dean’s head on. You knew you couldn’t hide from your past anymore. Not when it had come nearly all the way to your front porch. But Lucas was waiting for you, and you needed privacy for the long overdue conversation with Dean. Something that was in short supply on the small cul de sac. 

“You look good in that…” Dean cut in, a small hint of his boyish grin and that trademark charm as he took you in, as if for the first time while you rolled your eyes at him. Though his attempt at lightening the mood still fell flat when weighed up against the heavy weight in your stomach from the many broken pieces of your heart that had dislodged from seeing him again. 

“I know I do. But that’s not the point. I can’t. Not now,”  You still let a small smile slip before you shook it, and the nostalgic emotions it was painted in, away and replaced them with tired resignation. As your own small smile that had temporarily brightened Dean’s fell away, so did his. Though his green eyes had softened slightly as he seemed to resign himself to not having all his questions answered by interrogating you on the sidewalk of your own street. 

“Just tell me one thing. Are you happy? Is Lucas happy?” Dean’s quiet voice asked after a beat or two of silence. His eyes slightly shrouded by enviably thick lashes as he kept them downcast and focused on the polished shoes of his FBI outfit. His words made you look towards the houses again, easily spotting your little man a few homes down as you smiled and waved in his direction where he was busy waving your way.

“We are and he is. We have a good life here. A safe home. He’s the smartest little boy ever. Just like his dad,” You finally said as you let your hand drop. Glancing Dean’s way, you caught him looking towards Lucas as well. His eyes watching the small boy wistfully as he once more stuffed his hands into his pockets. 

Wetting his lips, Dean seemed to hesitate for a second as he opened and closed his mouth wordlessly before finally tearing his eyes off of the son he hadn’t known he had to look at you instead. 

“Can I… Is it alright if I see him again? See you again?”

For a second, you hesitated. Your heart was stuck in your throat as you mulled over your answer. Thinking up and throwing away a million what ifs and reasons not to. But in the end, your heart won the battle. You could never forget Dean Winchester. And, no matter how he felt about you, and you about him, Lucas was his son. He deserved the chance to get to know the coolest kid you knew. 

“... Bring Sam over after 7 pm tonight. Bring candy. And change out of those stuffy suits. We’ll… Talk over dinner,” You finally sighed, losing the battle with your heart as you hesitated over every word, even as you’d made up your mind to invite him over and already started planning the night’s dinner in your head now that you’d have two more mouths to feed. 

“Yeah? Alright, yeah… Ok. Seven.  I’ll be there,” Dean was already walking backwards away from you, looking slightly hopeful and clearly itching to fill his little brother in to let Sam know he was an uncle. That bright boyish spark that you’d fallen in love with many years ago back in green eyes as he smiled cautiously at you. A slightly crooked smile that slowly grew warmer as your words sank in. 

Throwing you a little wave, he turned around, ready to hurry back to his brother and call off the search so he could go raid some stores for candy and change. Yet, before he could take another step, your exasperated laughter made him stop as you rolled your eyes at his broad back. 

“Dean!” You called out after him, a raised eyebrow paired with a small knowing smirk as you watched him turn around to look at you. HIs green eyes wide and looking more than a little frazzled as you melted at the sight of the gorgeous man you’d fallen in love with many years ago. The man you never stopped loving. Even if he broke your heart.  

“You need to know where I live first,” You called out to him. No longer caring about nosy neighbors as you warmed your words with a small laugh that only grew louder as the ‘FBI agent’ stumbled over his own feet in his hurry to come back over to you. 

“I’m just down the street, look for the white house with the green door. Down there,” You said, pointing in the direction of your small home. Next to you, Dean leaned in to see things from your viewpoint, carefully following your pointer finger as you felt your temperature rise from his proximity. Swallowing the cotton mouthed feeling, you found your lost voice between one heartbeat and the next as you let your hand fall and took a step back away from him to relearn how to breathe again. 

“7 pm,” You repeated. 

“7 pm,” He confirmed. 

Before quickly throwing you another small, hopeful smile. And hurrying away with a mumbled promise of talking later and bringing candy. 

As he walked down the street, looking slightly unsteady on his feet. You couldn’t help the soft smile that played on your lips. Though you didn’t know what would come from it. You couldn't help but feel slightly happy that he’d ran into you. 

Like your own special Halloween treat. One that definitely didn’t fit into Lucas’ plastic pumpkin bucket. 

And though only time would tell what would happen. You couldn’t wait to introduce the two bravest men you knew to the bravest, smartest little boy you knew. Casting one last glance at Dean, you quickly hurried after Tara and the boys. 

Now you had another reason to make sure Batman and you were back home before the sun fully set. At a distance, you swore you could hear Dean’s excited voice as you smiled to yourself. 

“SAMMY! You’ll never guess…”

Dean Winchester Tags: @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler  @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @starsandmidnightblue @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun  @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28 @siospins2 @iprobablyshipit91 @mrsjenniferwinchester 

He’d given up on ever getting a happily ever after, or any shot at love. But that was until she walked into the bunker and straight into his heart. Bringing with her hope, happiness and a love he’d long since stopped believing even existed.

Even before he realised how hard he’d fallen for her; one smile from her was all it took for him to figure out what it meant to be truly happy. It had been so long since he’d felt so honestly fulfilled, that he’d forgotten what happiness even felt like. But with (Y/N), it was as effortless as breathing. 

She only had to smile, and he was in heaven. 

Then she’d answered his words of love with words of her own, and he’d soared. Everything had felt right, for the first time in his life, as he cradled his world in his arms. He’d marvelled at the miracle of a woman in his embrace as he held her close and kissed her in a mix of breathless wonder and complete elation. 

Even now, as she turned sleepily to face him before hiding from the new day in the crook of his neck, he still had butterflies in his stomach. Just like he’d had every day from the moment he first met her. Bright (Y/E/C) eyes, addictive and sweet like sugar, and that beautiful smile the very definition of salvation. Damn it, Dean didn’t know how it was possible, but he loved her more and more every day. 

“Rise and shine sweetheart,” Dean hummed softly along to the beat of their song, as (Y/N) tried to hide from the reality of morning plans in the crook of his neck. Her breath tickingling his throat with a sleepy sigh as he placed small, barely-there kisses onto her crown of (Y/H/C) hair.

“Five more minutes,” She murmured against his neck, sending pleasurable shivers through him from how her lips brushed against his pulse point. And damn if he didn’t want to give into her demands. He always wanted to give her the world on a silver platter. But it would have to wait…

“No-can-do babe, we have plans today. Big plans,” He pushed, letting his hand travel up and down her back under the duvet, painting soft little circles against her skin and loving how she snuggled closer to him with a satisfied hum. His little reminder of what day it was, finally teasing her out of her warm cocoon as she lifted her beautiful (Y/E/C) eyes to look at him.

Yet, she didn’t speak at first. Looking at him with a cute crease in her brow as she tried to force her mind to wake up enough to find the words she was clearly looking for. And Dean was happy just watching her, his hand brushing strands of her hair out of her eyes as he waited for her to speak. Though, as the silence stretched on, he couldn’t help but worry. 

She wasn’t regretting this, was she?

“Hey… Dean?” (Y/N) finally said, sounding slightly hesitant, as she let her eyes fall to his bare chest instead.

“Yeah sweetheart?” He kept his voice low and soft, as he waited for her to speak up. His heart in his throat, just like it had been that day oh so many moons ago when he’d told her how he felt.

“Are you 100% sure this is what you want?” (Y/N)’s voice was small, and shaking slightly. She didn’t look up at him, choosing instead to let her fingers play with a corner of the blanket. Lashes slightly hiding hesitant (Y/E/C) eyes that seemed a little less bright. 

Though Dean couldn’t fathom what she could possibly mean. She was everything he’d ever wanted. Of course, he was sure. He’d never been more certain about anything else in his life.

“What do you mean?” He was breathless, slightly worried as he pulled her closer. As if he was afraid she’d slip from his arms and out of his life with how small and hesitant she sounded. 

“This… With me. You never planned to settle down. I’ve heard the stories your brother tells when he comes over to visit. You were Dean Freaking Winchester,” She sighed, hiding from the world again as she let her head fall until her forehead was resting against his jawbone.

“I’d choose this life, a life with you, over the bunker and the endless hustle of the hunt, any day,” Dean tugged playfully on a strand of her hair, before shifting his body; scooting down on the bed until she had no choice but to look him in the eyes.

 “But…”

“No buts sweetheart. I choose you (Y/N). And I’ll choose you over and over again. Without a doubt, in a heartbeat. I’ll always keep choosing you. There’s a million hunters out there that can take up my mantle, but there’s only one of you,” Dean let his forehead rest against hers, keeping the words between the two of them. In their own perfect little bubble. Because those words, his love, and his very soul, no matter how bruised and battered it was, all belonged solely to her.

“You mean that?” (Y/N)’s voice was still hesitant and careful, but he could hear joy there. The same unbridled love and elation he felt every day he got to spend by her side; in their home. Their little slice of apple pie and white picket fences.

“That and so much more. I love you (Y/N), and I love this… Us,” Dean let his lips brush against hers before he leaned back enough for her to see the full expanse of the truth behind his words in clear, forest green eyes.

“I love you too Dean,” She beamed up at him, before quickly chasing his lips for another quick kiss and wrapping her arms around his waist and snuggling closer.

“Oh no you don’t missy. I know your tricks. You’re tryin’ to get me to stay in bed,” He huffed playfully, though he still wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body closer to his. Long legs tangling with hers under the blanket.

“Just five more minutes?” She pouted adorably, fully aware that she had the former hunter wrapped around her little finger. But, Dean had to stay strong. No matter how much he wanted to hide from the world with the love of his life in his arms.

“No way, we really do need to get up,” He laughed, tugging playfully at the duvet, though she seemed unwilling to let it, or him, go.

“Please? Our friends and family will wait for us… They can’t start without us anyway,” She whined, continuing the negotiation for a lazy morning in bed. But, Dean stayed steadfast.

They’d have many more mornings of lazily snuggling under the covers while their song played softly in the background. This just couldn’t be one of them. This was the most important day in Dean Winchester’s life. And he was determined to make the most of it.

“No-can-do (Y/N)… The bride and groom can’t be late for their own wedding. C’mon, rise and shine Mrs. Winchester. It’s our big day,”

---

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler  @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @starsandmidnightblue @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun  @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28 @siospins2 @iprobablyshipit91 @mrsjenniferwinchester @leigh70 @roseblue373 @djs8891

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Limelight Tags: @twinkleinadiamondsky @jamerlynn @samsgirl93 @linki-locks11 @ultimatecin73 @joeyfilth @mimaria420 @lacilou @itzabbyxx 

Your heart was in your throat as you bit back a small smile, listening out for any sounds as you quietly snuck down the hall before coming to a full stop in front of Dean’s room. It was quiet inside, but that didn’t phase you.

You knew he’d be in there. Since you’d promised him a movie date after you “freshened up”. Which meant Dean would be busy going through his movie collection to find the perfect Halloween night movie to cuddle up to. 

Though you had other plans. 

Holding your breath you gently placed your heels on the floor and gingerly stepped into them. Careful not to make a sound as you straightened back up and got your small, mischievous smile under control. Opening your coat, you looked down at your “costume” one last time. Making sure everything was properly in place. 

After all, it was the 31st of October. And no Halloween was complete without some good old fashioned trick or treating. And since you couldn’t really go door to door. You’d decided you deserved a different kinda treat. One with apple green eyes and sweet as sugar kisses. As well as a damned sinfully skillful tongue. 

Biting your lip in anticipation, you reached out and knocked softly on Dean’s bedroom door as you hastily closed your trench coat and played with your hair; making sure it was falling just right. 

Yet, Dean didn’t come to the door as you’d planned. Instead his voice, deep and rich like chocolate, rang out happily oblivious to your plans from the other side of the door. 

“Come on in (Y/N)!” 

Pouting at the still closed door. You straightened your shoulders and ignored his invitation. Choosing instead to knock again. After all, what trick or treater just opened a door and walked in? There was an order to these things.

 “Sweetheart?” From the other side of the door, you could hear the telltale creaking of Dean slipping off of his bed to walk the few steps to the door as confusion stained his voice in a slightly deeper, wary tone. His hunter’s instincts kicking in automatically from the unusual reaction. 

Still, you kept your mouth shut as you waited for the door to open. One hand keeping your jacket closed as you tried, and failed, to keep the small, playful smirk off of your carefully painted lips. 

Knowing Dean, you knew he’d open the door whether or not you replied. 

Sure, he would be slightly on edge and ready to strike when he did due to the lack of answer from you. But he would relax the moment he saw you. After all, you knew your boyfriend of 5 years. And you’d planned out the whole night perfectly. Down to the littlest detail. Any thoughts of fight or flight would fade away as soon as he saw you. 

“(Y/N) what are you…”  Deans started as he opened the door. Only for his words to die out the moment you let your coat slip open and drop to the floor with a soft thud. Showing off the leather and lace nurse-themed lingerie costume you’d bought for the occasion. 

Soft leather straps hugged your curves in all the right places as lace barely covered up the rest of your bodice. Leaving just enough to the imagination to make Dean suck in a sharp breath as he devoured you with his eyes. Want and need burning in forest fire eyes as he let his teeth graze his bottom lip while he took it all in. From the soft swell of your barely contained breasts to the small little details that showed off the theme of the lingerie set/Halloween costume. 

“Trick or treat?” You asked, a small little knowing smirk on your red lips as you raised an eyebrow at your momentarily dumbstruck boyfriend where he was busy finding his voice again. 

“Damn it woman…” Dean finally said breathlessly as he reached out for you, only for you to take a quick step back, out of his reach, with a small victorious laugh. 

“I asked you a question Winchester. Trick or treat?” You repeated, letting your tongue roll against your bottom lip as your hands traveled across the lace patterns you knew Dean longed to explore. Teasing an impatient groan out of him that had you bite back a needy whine of your own. 

Using his lightning fast reflexes, your boyfriend reached out for you. This time catching you by the wrist and pulling you flush against his body as his free hand greedily grabbed at your ass, rolling his hips against you to let you feel exactly what you did to him. 

“Treat. Definitely treat,” Dean growled, before swallowing your small laugh with a hungry kiss and pulling you into his room. 

Dean Winchester Tags: @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @starsandmidnightblue @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun  @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28 @siospins2 @iprobablyshipit91

Not when he was stranded in a world that wasn’t meant for him. 

He could only chase the idea of it at the bottom of a bottle and in dreams of a life he’d never have. He could only wake up strangling a scream, as nightmares brought him back to the only home he’d ever had… Back when he was four-years-old and his picket fences had burned to ash.

Leaving him standing on the lawn in his PJs with Sammy in his arms as his father broke apart and rebuilt himself as a general. Seeing soldiers where he once saw sons. 

Dean had motels, pitstops, barracks, trenches and prison cells, but never homes. And the bunker was just one more in a line of failed attempts at building something out of nothing. Taking something borrowed, pretending it was his, and fooling no one. 

But… Then there was her. 

Hell, she didn’t even have to try. 

Nearly from the first moment she’d stepped into the bunker, the air in the normally cold underground prison had warmed up. The fluorescent lights had felt like sunshine on Dean’s skin, and the normally dusty, heavy air had felt fresher, softer. Letting him breathe easy for the first time in forever. 

All it took was one full week of (Y/N) living with them and she’d already made the bunker feel more like a home than he’d ever managed. And after a year of her living with them, the bunker was now a place he longed to return to whenever hunts brought him far away from home… 

From her. 

It was no longer a tomb filled with guilt, nightmares and bad memories. With (Y/N)’s soft touch, everything shifted, as the air filled with her laughter and every small secretive glance Dean threw her way left him feeling warm and grounded. Like he belonged. 

After years on the road… Years spent pretending that he had everything under control for Sammy. Dean finally felt home. And all it took was one woman. One beautiful woman, with her soft smile and kind eyes, to make him understand what everyone had been telling him all along… Home was where the heart is. And Dean had finally found his heart.

Now he just needed to find the courage to tell her how he felt. 

---

Stealing another glance at her over the lip of his coffee cup, Dean quickly pulled his eyes away as she looked in his direction. Chasing his cowardice with a sip of already cooling coffee as he refocused his attention back on the dusty old tomes in front of him. 

He couldn’t do it.

He’d been telling himself to work up the courage. To just… At least attempt to flirt with her. To throw her that slightly crooked smirk and a small wink, like he had done with so many other women as he chased the need for warmth and a temporary feeling of belonging, of home, in their arms. But no matter how much he reminded himself that he wasn’t new to this. That he’d dated, he’d… Fuck. None of it had been like it was with her. None of those women were her. 

He couldn’t just turn on the same empty charm he used to use. Not when she deserved everything. And Dean was nothing.

Hell, even if he could. He really shouldn’t do it. No matter how many nights he’d let himself fall into guilty fantasies of his lips on her skin and her body naked below his. He would never be good enough… He’d just leave his bloody fingerprints on her, and hurt her. He knew he would. 

Now that he finally had a home, he couldn’t demolish it with his own damn destructive hands. Even if he was dying to build a home for himself in her heart. Even if he saw apple-pie-forevers in her slightly upturned eyes and could easily paint multiple happily ever afters in even just the smallest curve of her smile. 

If he told her, and the small curve of her smile fell? Dean wouldn’t just be heartbroken… He’d be homeless. Doomed to wander again. With no more warmth, no more rooms that didn’t feel like prison cells and no more air that tasted slightly sweeter from her laughter permeating it. 

“What’s up Dean?” Her beautiful voice broke through his darkening thoughts as he quickly pulled himself out of them. As if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Letting his eyes lock with hers, he gave her a small shaky smile as he shrugged his shoulders, trying to find some excuse to explain whatever she’d seen on his features to prompt the sudden question. 

“What’s what?” He finally asked, giving up on finding any excuses, as he knew her perceptive (Y/E/C) eyes would see right through him. 

“I don’t know… You just look kinda… Out of it?” She hesitated over the words, her head tilting slightly to the side as her brow furrowed in that damned adorable way that always left him cotton-mouthed and fighting the butterflies in his stomach that threatened to give away how he felt. 

“I’m fine… I just… I have a lot on my mind,” He shrugged lamely. 

A lot on his mind… 

That was the understatement of a fucking lifetime. But hell… Dean wasn't very good with words. Even his mind stumbled to try and find a way to describe what the feelings he was drowning in were. Why he felt so full and so empty at the same time... Yet, the only thing that came through the haze of his confusion was her. Just her. 

Her name echoed inside the hollow space he didn't know existed until she had started filling it with just her presence alone. Before he’d known it, she’d made herself at home in his heart. And it scared him. She was supposed to just be (Y/N). She should have been just another hunter. Just another girl. Yet she was slowly becoming everything. 

Everything except his.

---

There was something magical about her. 

Even the one place that had been the closest thing Dean had ever managed to make feel like home, felt more real when she was around. The rumble of Baby’s engine felt more grounded and the roads just felt smoother whenever she managed to trick Sammy out of the shotgun seat and sang along to her songs. 

Because, hell… Even his own rules went out the window when she was around. No matter how much Sammy grumbled that ‘driver picks the music’. She was the exception. She was always the exception. To every rule. After all… She had him wrapped around her little finger. 

Plus, Dean would willingly give up his whole damn tape collection and replace it with the sound of her voice, her laughter, filling the Impala as they drove down endless stretches of country road. Casting small glances at her as he clutched the steering wheel. Both to keep himself from reaching out to her and tucking the stray (Y/H/C) strands back behind her ear and because he had too precious a cargo to drive recklessly with her in the car. 

With her, every stretch of highway, every shitty motel room with paint peeling off of its walls, and every new pitstop, was home. And the Impala, the one place he’d somewhat managed to fool himself into believing he saw as his childhood home, paled in comparison to that. 

---

Clutching his bottle of beer, Dean only pretended to listen to whatever Sammy was saying. Only catching snippets of the latest clues the vampires they were chasing had left behind as his eyes followed her across the hole in the wall bar towards the bartender. 

He didn't know when he had started to think about her as his. He had no right to. Yet, whenever his mind wandered, he did. Often. Like a rose-coloured dream that would never come true, but still lingered in his mind and refused to let go long after waking. 

He shouldn't be jealous, yet as he watched her smile at the young man behind the bar, only one word came to mind. A lie of a word, yet the only one he had. 

Mine.

Swallowing the bitter jealousy down with another generous mouthful of beer, he refocused on Sam. Forcefully pulling his eyes off of her as she leaned over the bar to tell the bartender who was ogling her their order. Yet, as his eyes met his brother’s he was left following Sam’s eyes straight back to her. 

Sammy also saw her as home. Though not the way Dean did… 

No. To Sam she was a friend, a part of his family. She was the one who had pulled him further out of his shell and made him finally see what a home was supposed to feel like. Instead of the scraps Dean had been able to scrape together for his baby brother over the many years he’d been left raising him. 

As Sam looked from her to Dean, he groaned internally. Knowing what was coming. Knowing that his brother would once more try to make him put down sturdier foundations. Though he should know better. He should know nothing could be built out of the gunpowder and lead debris that was Dean Winchester. Yet, he still tried. Whenever she was out of earshot. Having caught on, much faster than Dean, to what his older brother felt for their fellow bunker resident. 

“You still haven’t…” Sam kept his voice low as he broached the subject Dean had been dreading. Though he didn’t let his younger brother finish his sentence as he shook his head roughly and brought his now empty bottle to his lips with an annoyed frown. 

“No… Not gonna do it either,” Dean shot back before his brother could put his feelings into words. Tainting them with the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke. 

“And why the hell not?” As always, whenever the conversation got around to her… To the heart Dean had slipped into her hand when she wasn’t looking. Sam just kept fucking pushing. Though he should know by now. He had seen what happened to the people Dean tried to protect. He was destructive. He was a goddamn avalanche. Destroying everything in his path. It didn’t matter if it was homes, hearts or families. One brush with Dean was like a damn kiss of death. 

“Can’t make her deal with that… With me,” Dean shot back. His tone was clipped and short as he threw a glance back over at the bar to make sure she was still out of earshot. Hoping the finality in his words would function as the full stop he needed to make his little brother give up on any notion of Dean ever finding anything but prison bars where others dreamt of picket fences. 

“Hell, it’s a miracle she hasn’t noticed it yet with the way you look at her. She’ll find out sooner or later that you…” Sam just kept pushing. The little glance Dean threw in her direction did not go unnoticed by his quick witted little brother. 

“I’ll just learn to control it,” Dean huffed as he finally placed the empty beer bottle down on the table. A little harder than necessary. Forcing his eyes off of her as if to prove he could. Though he could already feel the pull at his heart, longing to see her again. To catch even just the briefest glance of her (Y/H/C) hair over by the dim bartop. 

“Love isn’t something you can control Dean! Love is chaotic and unexpected. Why do you think people say you fall in love? You don’t gently and carefully float into it, able to change the direction or pull yourself up and out. No. You fall. Head first. Fast and hard. Without a lifeline. Sure, sometimes you crash and burn… But other times, that someone will catch you. Hold you, love you, and fall weightless, with you. You just need to take a chance, grow a pair, and fucking tell her,” Sam whisper yelled in his direction. Still careful to not raise his voice enough to be heard by anyone else over the steady sound of music and revelry surrounding the two brothers. Yet, every word still sounded explosively loud to Dean as he gritted his teeth at the sound of the word love. The one thing he had to forcefully deny himself. To keep her safe. 

“No Sammy, I can’t do that to her. You know I can’t. You know how loving someone turns out in this life… How many people have we lost? How many times have we been the last ones standing left to deal with the aftermath and the pain? How many times has our love, us caring about someone, put them in danger, in harm's way?” Dean gritted his teeth, keeping his own voice at barely even a whisper though saturated in frustration and anger.  Quietly arguing with his stubborn younger brother between small glances in her direction to make sure she was still occupied by the bartender trying to flirt with her. 

The sight of her, smiling that breathtaking smile as she let her head fall backwards with an open and warm laugh tore at his sanity. That one dangerous, jealous word once more slipping, unchecked back into his mind from the thought of her laughing so openly with someone that wasn’t him.

Mine…

“Even if she did care, which honestly I doubt she does…. I can’t make her fall with me, never. ‘Cause I’ll keep falling till I end up in hell, and she deserves so much more than that. She deserves nothing less than a lifetime filled with bliss and an eternity in heaven,” Dean continued bitterly. Some of the anger drained from him at the sight of her smiling at another man, replaced with that familiar and comforting blanket of self-hatred that he kept himself wrapped in to stop anyone from getting too close. 

“I know this life is hell Dean, but that doesn’t mean you should close yourself completely off from ever feeling anything. She’s already in this life. We all are. At least we have each other. Why the hell are you so scared of just trying?” Sam’s eyes were still on Dean. He hadn’t caught the way she laughed with the bartender, hadn’t seen the proof of how happy she could be… If only she wasn’t saddled with them. 

With Dean.

Yet, it was all Dean could see. Though he doubted he was selfless enough to give up on the one home he’d finally found after years spent out in the cold, homeless. Even if he could never really make it his home. He would settle for a guest room. A wandering thought that sometimes slipped into her mind. A friendly smile, a shared laugh, a moment of absolute peace in the middle of the shitstorm that was his life. Yeah… He couldn’t give her up. He couldn’t cut her out cold turkey. But he could learn to be content with his lot in life. To be a friend; a roommate. 

At least it was better than freezing to the bone again.

“You’re right… I want her… I shouldn’t, but I do. And that scares me more than anything else in this messed up world of ours, and we’ve survived hell and apocalypses,” Tearing his eyes off of her, Dean’s voice wavered as he confessed feelings that filled him with dread to his brother and the chipped and stained table in front of him.  

“I’m beyond scared Sammy. I’m terrified,”

---

The trouble with homes in the shape of a heart and the woman who carried it was that it could be placed in harm’s way. Especially when the shape of his home was a hunter, a woman who risked her life for a thankless world and strangers that refused to see the extent of her sacrifices. 

The vampires they’d been chasing across several state lines had somehow gotten the drop on them. And as one monster from the endless waves of vampires slashed at her, Dean was, for the second time in his life, only able to watch as his home was torn to shreds by the vicious claws of evil. First when he was four, in the shape of a house fire, and now in the shape of angry red spilling against gravel as Dean’s world ended to the sound of her pierced scream filling the already bloodsoaked air. 

No. 

With a pained growl, Dean let his arm swing wildly in front of him. Using his machete to carve a path through the bloodsuckers in an effort to get to her as quickly as possible. 

He didn’t even feel the slight jolt in his arm whenever his blade sliced through another vampire. Didn’t even hear their angry, pained screams as they died. All he heard was the sound of her agonised, surprised yell. 

All he saw was the heartbreaking colour of red seeping out of her chest as she kept unsteadily on her feet, trying to fight her attackers off. Even though the bright fire in her eyes was slowly ebbing away with every new glimpse he caught of her between the horde of vampires. The same bright fire that always left him breathless, and turned every heartbeat into flames burning through his veins, threatening to reduce him to ash.

All that mattered to him was her. And she was about to leave him behind. 

Pushing through the crowd of vampires. Dean didn’t stop until every single one of those damn bloodsuckers were dead before turning to face her. Her name on his lips in a breathless scream as he watched, as if in slow motion, as she crumbled to the ground, the machete in her hand clattering to the dirt along with her. Abandoned now that she had nothing left to fight, and nothing more to give. 

“(Y/N)!” Rushing to her side, Dean fell to his knees and cradled his home in his arms. Hoping that this time, he’d be able to fix his. That this time around, he’d be able to save his home, and the heart he’d already willingly given up to her along with it. 

Even though her lips were dangerously pale, and her eyelids already hid those beautiful (Y/E/C) eyes from him. Even though she was already freezing to the bone, barely hanging onto the small shallow gasps for air leaving her, as he tried to keep the world from tearing her away from him. 

He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t.

---

Though every room she was in felt like home to Dean, there were exceptions. Just like she was his exception for every rule. And the sterile cold of her hospital room didn’t feel any warmer just because she was there. 

Instead, it was the opposite. 

The longer she remained there, nestled among machines and wires that were trying to keep her alive, the colder the room felt. The more Dean felt his whole damn world freeze over. 

Yet, he fought through the shivers, he gritted chattering teeth and braved the cold. Just to stay with her. Because he had nowhere else to go. 

It had been a week. The same amount of time it took her to turn the bunker into a home. Yet the hospital still only felt like an early grave, a prison and a torture chamber as Dean shifted in the chair next to her bed. He hadn’t moved since they rolled her into the room after surgery. Fighting any nurse or doctor that tried to tell him he had to leave; that visiting hours were over. 

Because, damn it, he wasn’t just visiting. His whole damn world was lying in that bed. His home was there, nestled in the slow beat of her heart. The sound of each beat transferred directly into him through the steady rhythm of the electronic beeps of the ECG was the only thing lulling him to sleep at night. 

“Time to wake up (Y/N)...” Dean echoed words he’d whispered into the empty, cold hospital air more than once over the last week as he blocked out the doctor’s disapproving looks and Sam’s worried pleas for him. His head dropped until his forehead rested against her bed as he swallowed around the constant lump in his throat. 

“We need to go home now,” He pleaded as he blindly searched for her hand and gently squeezed it, though it remained unmoving in his shaky grip.

“I need you to come home with me. Because the bunker’s not home without you,” He whispered the words into her sheets. Not willing to let them bleed out into the rest of the cold room. Unwilling to let the highly sanitised air of the hospital scrub any of the red raw pain and tears out of his words as he let them stain white sheets.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he listened to the steady beeps, signalling that she was still alive as he pushed away the freezing chill that always threatened to settle over him whenever he pictured the bunker without her. His hand gently squeezed her unmoving one, as if ensuring himself she was still there. That she hadn’t slipped away between one heartbeat and the next as he made a confessional out of the hospital sheets. Letting the truths that were slipping out from the cracks in his heart soak her bed. At least until she finally woke up again and he could hastily suture the wounds shut and slip back into the role as her friend.

“I need you. You’re the only thing that… Damn it. I love you (Y/N), but I never wanted to tell you. Because I didn’t want you to hurt. I didn’t want to paint a bright red target on you. Yet… Here you are. Somehow you still got into the paint and drew a target on yourself anyway,” The words left him as a broken, huffed laugh. Sounding hollow and wrong when paired with the constant noise of machines and the dimmed background noises coming from the hospital hallway. 

Humourless, empty and drained. Just like the rest of his life when she wasn’t around.

“But I can’t… I know it’s selfish. I know I’m a selfish bastard, but I can’t lose you. Even if I’m just a friend. You’re… You’re home to me (Y/N). Without you there’s no meaning, there’s no light. So, you have to wake up now, ok?” Though he knew it was pointless, Dean still held his breath. Waiting for her sweet voice to reply to his words. The same way he had waited time and time again over the last week. 

“Come home with me, please? Let me go home. Don’t leave me homeless,” he pushed when the silence dragged on. 

But no reply came. Other than the still steady beeps of the heart rate monitor, promising that she wasn’t lost to him. Not yet. Even though she stubbornly kept Dean’s world from him, and the only bright light in his life, behind closed, still eyelids. 

“I promise I’ll love you quietly, I won’t make you uncomfortable. I’ll just silently love you, and I’ll protect you… So you won’t get hurt again. Because seeing you hurt? It’s killing me,” He finally continued. Squeezing her small hand as he bit back a hollow sob. Gritting his teeth together as he fought the pain that had been simmering like an angry storm in his chest since he first saw the vampire hurt her. It was a fight he was slowly losing. As every new hour without her smile was unravelling the last of his patience. 

He was just so damn close to trashing the whole hospital. Just to have something to hurt. The way he hurt. 

Yet, where he had been wrestling with his anger and helplessness in a losing battle that left him winded, broken and bruised. She easily made it all die down with just a soft squeeze of his hand back, and a dry, scratchy voice whispering two words. For the first time in a week.

“Me too…” The sound of her voice was the sweetest sound Dean had ever heard as he lifted his head from her sheets. Fighting the sudden vertigo that followed the breakneck speed of the move as he blinked unshed tears out of his eyes to focus on her. 

“(Y/N)! Oh thank god,” Dean’s breath left him in a shaky gasp shaped like relief and her name when he was met with (Y/E/C) eyes instead of closed eyelids. 

Though all he really wanted to do was pinch himself, to make sure it wasn’t all just a dream his mind was tormenting him with, Dean kept holding onto her hand instead. In part because he could never let her go, and in part because he worried his mind would fracture if he woke up and found her still and unmoving again. 

“Me too Dean…” She repeated, her lips curving up into a weak, tired smile as she once more tried to get Dean to understand the meaning behind her two cryptic words. But, hell, Dean was too far gone. Too elated to finally feel the air around him heat up from the sunshine in her eyes and taste the sweetness of her voice on every new shaky breath he took. 

“What are you…? Wait, it doesn’t matter. You’re awake. Do you want some water? Or no, let me go get the doc…” Dean’s words came out rushed and messy as he kept holding onto her, though his eyes were lifting to search for some way to get the doctor to come check on her now that she was finally awake. But, just as he tried to slip his hand from her to go find the doctor that hadn’t magically appeared, she cut him off with a weak squeeze of his fingers. Keeping him from moving and drawing his full attention back to her. 

“No, listen. Please,” She whispered, coughing slightly as she grimaced at the gravel in her own voice after a week of not speaking at all. 

“Ok… Yeah. Ok, I’m listening. What is it? Does something hurt?” He said, but the truth was, Dean wasn’t listening, not really. He was much too busy marvelling at the miracle that was her open eyes, and worrying about the scratch in her voice as he busied himself with digging through the grocery bag Sammy had brought him the day before with one hand. Somehow managing to locate a bottle of water to hand to her as he slipped his hand from hers to unscrew the top. 

Yet, as he handed her the bottle, she only held it, and the hand he used to hand it to her, forcing him to look at her, really look at her as she spoke again. Even though every word was rough and whispered as her throat screamed at her to accept the water. 

“Listen,” She demanded. And all Dean could do was nod numbly as he waited for her to speak again. After all, he was tightly wrapped around her little finger. Smiling weakly at him, she finally lifted the bottle of water to her lips, soothing her dry throat before she tried to speak again as Dean watched, mesmerised, as a single droplet escaped her mouth, resting temptingly on her bottom lip. “Me too… I love you too, you stupid, stubborn, brilliant fool,” (Y/N) said as soon as the ache in her throat had been soothed, a flash of pink rolling against her bottom lip to catch the single drop of water that held Dean’s rapt attention. 

Yet, as she spoke, his eyes shot from her lips up to lock with hers. Green eyes wide as he looked at her. Speechless, as his mind tried to make sense of the words he was sure he heard, yet couldn’t really be anything other than an auditory hallucination. Or maybe a dream… Once more Dean was left wanting to pinch himself, yet fearing he’d wake up. So instead he just squeezed her hand a little harder as he struggled to find the breath to shape words... 

“What… You? I mean, wow,” …And clearly thoroughly failed. 

He was breathless, his heart stuck in his throat as he tried to find the word trapped in his chest. He was elated as long forgotten butterflies did a number on his stomach, as if he was on a damn roller coaster.  

Yet, just like a roller coaster, the slow and steady high was followed by a death defying plummet as soon as he parted his lips to speak. His voice broke before he could even get one word out as the memories flooded back over him. 

Blood soaked gravel and pale lips invaded his vision, clouding the sunshine he’d once again found in her eyes as Dean shook his head. The feeling of her quickly fading heartbeat as he held her close in the backseat of the Impala while Sammy drove recklessly towards the hospital was still just too vivid.

He couldn’t risk losing her. He couldn’t selfishly celebrate when being with him was just a shortcut to death. No way. He refused to sign her death warrant by giving into desire.

“But… I’m bad for you (Y/N). I could get you…” 

Before Dean could finish his sentence, she shook her head, cutting his words off with a pained grimace as the quick shake sent shockwaves through her injured body. The pained groan that followed, a physical manifestation of how dangerous he was for her. 

Taking a few shaky breaths she lifted herself up into a more seated position on the hospital bed. Ignoring his worried, mumbled protests as he hesitantly reached out to her. The sight of blood spilling onto gravel was still too clear in his mind as he held himself back. Worried he’d mark her for death.

“You’re not bad for me Dean. You’re the best man I’ve ever met. You’re the reason I wake up smiling. You’re the reason I feel like I finally have a home to settle down in. You’re my home. As much as you say I’m yours,” She argued back, that same stubborn furrow that Dean found unbearably cute, back on her forehead as she emphasised every word. Making sure he heard her.

Yet, though he heard the words, Dean just couldn’t tie them to himself. He wasn’t anyone’s reason. Unless it was as an excuse, someone to blame. And he’d never had a home. So there was no way he could be the shape of one for someone else. There was no way such beautiful words could belong to him. Not when she was so goddamn perfect, and he was just… Dean. 

“But you could get anything you ever want (Y/N), and I’m…” Dean started again. Not seeing himself in the rose coloured words that had spilled from honeyed lips. 

“You’re everything I want Dean. It’s us. That’s all I want,” She pushed, stubbornly. Unwilling to back down as she set fiery (Y/E/C) eyes in him, daring him to try and say another bad word about himself. 

Not wanting to disappoint, Dean parted his lips to speak again. To argue against her idealised version. To make her see how much safer she would be without him. Even if it would kill him to let her go. Yet, the beautiful woman who had somehow miraculously transformed prison bars into safety nets, was not willing to listen. As she quickly lifted a still shaky hand and grabbed the front of his t-shirt, using it as leverage to pull herself all the way up and closer to him.

Before finally silencing him with her lips on his. 

It took a few erratic beats of his heart for Dean to realise what was happening. Green eyes wide and breath caught in his chest. 

She was kissing him, carefully and hesitantly, soaking his vinegar words of self-hatred in honey and sunshine as he stayed frozen for just a split second. Until the warmth of her thawed him back up. Just enough for him to gently push her back onto her pillow without breaking the kiss. His hands travelled the length of her arms as he made sure she was comfortable, still worried about her injuries. 

But he couldn’t break the kiss. He was caught. Completely, and undeniably caught. Unable to deny himself the heart that she willingly slipped into his hand, that matched the one he’d snuck her. Fitting together so goddamn perfectly Dean felt like crying.

So instead he focused on her lips, the taste of her. Through soft, barely there kisses, he selfishly moved into her heart. Only to find she had already made a home for him there.

Finally, Dean was home.

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler  @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @starsandmidnightblue @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun  @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28

She was just so goddamn good and bright. Leaving him stealing glances at her as he feared he’d just burn up if he looked at her straight on. Fighting the need to shield his eyes and revelling in the beauty and warmth that surrounded her. Like the soft evening sun, settling against his skin and letting him soak in it, enjoying the moment. 

Just being around her made him feel like he wanted to be a better man. Made him feel like he was safe, that this fucked up world was worth saving. She was the light at the end of the tunnel. The first break of daylight after a rough night. She made it all feel like it was worth it. Like there was still some reason to keep fighting for the unfair world that kept kicking him when he was down, if only because it was the world she lived in. 

Or at least, that was what he normally felt. Right then and there; standing fuming and furious on the motel room carpet, all he felt was fear. 

Dean was afraid. Terrified for the foolishly brave woman who was glaring at him, framed by the dim evening light behind her back and the motel room door. Refusing to back down even though she’d put herself in harm's way again. Just like she always did. 

She was always so goddamn ready to sacrifice herself to save him… To save anyone really. Never understanding that if anything ever happened to her, there’d be no more him. If she got hurt, or… Fuck. Worse…

He’d lose the only good thing he had left in this godforsaken world; her smile.

“Wrong! You weren’t thinking! You could have gotten yourself killed. That fucking werewolf was coming…” Dean shot back as he tore his eyes off of her to stalk towards the middle of the motel room. The aching, searing need to keep her safe forced him to stay in constant motion as every single nerve in his body screamed at him to wrap her in his arms and never let her go.

“I knew what I was doing Dean. I’m not new to this. I can handle myself,” (Y/N) shot back, not letting Dean finish his sentence. Where his voice was loud and shaky, hers kept a dangerously low volume. An icy chill replaced the intense heat of the earlier fury as she finally stepped fully into the motel room and let the door swing shut with just a little bit more force than necessary.

“You say that, but all I saw out there was a fucking greenhorn. You know we don’t act before we think. Those kinda reckless actions get people killed in our business,” Dean shot back, turning back to face her once the outside world was fully shut out and he was alone with her again. Unable to stand not seeing her when the new breaks to his heart from the close call were still so damned fresh.

“You’re one to talk. You always throw yourself headfirst into a fight. I had to act. If I hadn’t then that werewolf would’ve launched itself on you instead. Luckily, I make a fairly good target,” She quipped back, stalking towards him, shoulders squared and eyes blazing.

“You’re not a target damn it!” Dean was yelling, he knew he was. Fuck, he hadn’t meant to raise his voice at all, yet that was all he seemed capable of doing. 

He’d told himself, on the whole deathly silent car ride back from the hunt to stay calm. To just talk to her; to make her understand how much she meant to him without letting the full extent of his feelings slip. But, he couldn’t help it. She was just so goddamn good, and yet so stupidly self-sacrificing. 

Just like him.

The explosive quality to his voice had her falter slightly. Teasing the smallest microscopic flinch from her as she took a step back from the pure protective need rolling off of him in waves. Yet, the slightly raised volume in his voice didn’t deter her for long.

As soon as she’d stepped back she was pushing forward again. Crowding him as she funnelled the unused adrenaline from the hunt into the current fight instead. 

“I kept the damned mutt from biting you didn’t I?” Her own voice rose until it bounced off the faded motel room wallpaper and ricocheted back at the two of them in the middle of the small, claustrophobic motel room. Each searing word heating up the air around him as Dean struggled to catch his breath.

“I can take care of myself Dean,” She continued, fire simmering into ice cold anger as she stepped even closer to him. Until she was nearly close enough for Dean to just reach out and…

No.

He had to keep her safe. And though, with the mix of protective anger, adrenaline and pure adoration that was flooding his veins, he was aching to kiss her, he couldn’t. The arms of Dean Winchester were not a safe place to be. Hell, she’d be safer far, far away from him. Though he doubted he was selfless enough to let go of her in that way, even as he was actively holding her at an arms’ length.

So, instead he kept his resolve strong and wet his lips as he funelled all his love for her into the desperate need to make her see she didn’t have to risk herself to save him. That, in doing so, she’d just end up hurting them both.

“Then fucking prove it!” His voice rose with hers, with words so very different from those he really wanted to say.

“I think I just did! I kept you safe didn’t I? I thought that’s what my role in all this was,” She shot back, not willing to budge and still somehow believing her nearly fatal attempt at shielding him was the right thing to do. Her words hit Dean hard, like a fucking battering ram to the solar plexus. Leaving him slightly winded as his next angry words came out a bit lower, though no softer in their delivery.

“Your role? You’re a hunter (Y/N). Not a freaking shield,” He growled, holding her bright eyes with his green ones and refusing to let her look away as it was now his turn to crowd her. Walking her backwards towards one of the faded paisley print walls until her back hit it with a soft thud. The sounds of her back against the wall lulling everything into a momentary heavy silence. Tense with fear and desperation and something more… 

Something fragile.

“Why not? That’s all I’m good for…” Her voice was barely even a low whisper when the words finally came. The hurt staining each soft syllable like a fucking bullet to the very core of him. 

She sounded so small, so tired. And all Dean wanted was to wrap her in his arms and brush the hurt away with calloused fingertips against her soft skin. Her quiet delivery stood in complete contrast to the earlier angry yells that had left her only seconds before, as her eyes moved from his to look down at the little space remaining between them.

The barely-there glance at the space made Dean painfully aware of how close she was. Fuck, his lips were barely inches from hers. But, as her words sank in, they just as quickly pulled him out of that train of thought. His eyes instead shooting up to try and catch hers again.

“What? Why would you…” His voice echoed her breathless whisper and came out soaked in the same pain as hers. Since Dean always hurt if she was hurting. After all, she had his heart, and whatever damage was done to hers was mirrored on his where he’d slipped it into her hand when she wasn’t looking.

“The world needs you, Dean. You and Sammy. It always had. All of this? It’s all about the two of you… It’s you people turn to, you people trust. Me… I’m just… I’m dead weight,” She sighed, the fight fully draining from her tense shoulders as she leaned fully against the paisley wallpaper and kept her eyes downcast.

“Why? (Y/N)… You know that’s not…” Dean’s words were sticking in his throat. Caught in the hurricane of hurt that wanted to leave him like a strangled sob as the reality of her thoughts sank in. 

She didn’t think she mattered. 

Even though she was everything to him.

“It is Dean. I’m not as strong as Sam and you. You’ve been hunting for years. I’m just holding you back. If I can help keep you safe so you can live to fight another day… That sounds like a good way to do my bit for a safer world,” She ended her words with a defeated shrug. Like her lot in life had already been predetermined for her. But no, Dean knew, without a doubt, that she was meant for so much more than that.

“No… God, no, sweetheart. You don’t get to say that. You matter,” He choked out. Unwilling to let her minimise her role in his life in that way. But she wasn’t listening; her eyes still downcast into the small space between them.

“Do I? Sometimes I feel like I could just… Disappear. And no one would even notice. There’s always other hunters, other friends… Other people who’d do more,”

“But there’s only one of you... (Y/N), you might not always see it, but you’re amazing. You matter to the people around you. You’re the bright spot in someone’s dreary day. Hell, You’re my bright spot,” Dean argued back, though his voice remained soft and soothing; a barely there whisper meant for her ears only and the vast universe of feelings trapped in the few inches of space between them.

“But…”

“No buts sweetheart. Let me say this,” It was Dean’s turn to cut her off now. Not wanting to hear her say another bad word about his world. Because, hell, she was his world.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met (Y/N). Your smile, your voice, your talents and your drive; they shine. Sometimes you leave me breathless. Hell, sometimes you’re so bright I have to fight the urge to shield my eyes in fear that I’ll just… Burn up from all this…” Dean swallowed hard as the word ‘love’ threatened to spill from his lips. It was basically a conditioned reflex by now; yet he still had to take a second to wet his lips and breathe before he found his voice again.

“It’s ok to feel down, it’s ok to struggle. We all do from time to time. But rely on us. Rely on me. Your heart is just so big; you just feel things a little deeper, a little harder. And damn it if that isn’t just the most beautiful thing ever. You love so deep… And the people who matter, they feel that; they know it, they love you for it. And I…” Dean stopped, drawing in a shaky breath as he broke down the walls around his own bruised and battered heart; offering it up in sacrifice to her. 

Even if it wouldn’t mean much.

Hell, if his soon to follow rejection and heartbreak could help prove that she was loved, then Dean would willingly offer it all up to her. Swallowing hard, he let his head fall slightly forward, bridging the gap between them until his forehead rested against her crown of (Y/H/C) hair.

“I love you (Y/N). I told myself I wouldn’t say it… I’m not good enough for someone as perfect as you. But I do love you. With every single part of my tattered and broken heart,” Dean’s voice was just the ghost of a whisper as he delivered them into the soft strands of hair framing her face and hiding her eyes from him. And, just as quickly as he’d dared to bridge that gap, he pulled back again. Afraid he’d said too much, been too forward, and bracing himself for the rejection that was sure to follow.

Yet, it wasn’t a hurt that left those beautiful lips like sweet nectar. No… As her big doe eyes, wet with unshed tears, finally lifted to meet his, Dean found salvation in them, not rejection.

“Me too… I love you too Dean,” Though Dean didn’t recognize the words at first; muffled as they were by the walls he was hastily trying to rebuild around his heart in hopes that he’d still be able to stay her friend; a role he treasured more than anything else on this earth.

 “I know you don’t feel the same and… Wait… You what?” Dean stumbled over his words as her response finally sank in. His voice caught in his throat as green eyes widened incredulously at the miracle in front of him.

Lifting his hand, Dean held his breath as he replaced the space between them with feather light touches. Fingers ghosting over her collarbone and her jaw, in the same way his eyes had done countless times. He needed to touch her; to ensure himself she was really there. That this wasn’t just some self-serving fantasy that would only aid in his heartbreak down the line. But (Y/N) was there…

She was there and she loved him.

“You love me,” He whispered, this time his words were not a question. As his palm cupped her warm cheek, he felt more than saw her tiny nod as his hand swallowed the barely-there movement. But it was enough. Hell, that tiny nod was enough to shift his whole world. Shaking it off of its axis as he felt at once both giddy and struck down by sudden vertigo.

No… This time his words were definitely not a question. They were a prayer, an awestruck gasp. He just needed to re-confirm her feelings for himself as he felt her below his fingertips.

 “I do,” (Y/N) said, her voice shaky as she finally dared to meet his eyes properly again. And as her smile slowly brightened even further, Dean leaned in and tasted the sunshine on her lips with a soft kiss shaped like the million little ways he loved her.

She was finally his – and Dean finally felt worthy.

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler  @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @starsandmidnightblue @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun  @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28

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Limelight Tags: @twinkleinadiamondsky @jamerlynn @samsgirl93 @linki-locks11 @ultimatecin73 @joeyfilth @mimaria420 @lacilou @itzabbyxx 

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler  @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun  @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @iprobablyshipit91 @mrsjenniferwinchester @leigh70 @djs8891 @pink-sparkly-witch

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Limelight Tags: @twinkleinadiamondsky @jamerlynn @samsgirl93 @linki-locks11 @ultimatecin73 @joeyfilth @mimaria420 @lacilou @itzabbyxx

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler  @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun  @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @iprobablyshipit91 @mrsjenniferwinchester @leigh70 @djs8891 @pink-sparkly-witch