Winchester X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Possessed

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Word Count: 940

Summary: Sam is possessed by a demon, and you try your best to help him.

Warnings: Some curse words.

A/N: I hope you like it!~

You glared at Sam -no, not Sam, the demon, you had to remind yourself- who had been tricked into walking into a demon trap. The tall hunter’s shirt was soaked through with blood where his anti-possession tattoo had been mutilated with a knife, and a smirk of superiority so unlike Sam’s usual warm smile was plastered on his face.  

“What do you have to say for yourself, sweetheart? Because it’s getting really boring here, don’t you think?” said the demon trough Sam’s voice. Wrapping your mind around the fact that Sam’s usually gentle and friendly voice could hold so much scorn had taken some time, but now, after spending about an hour with the demon inhabiting your friend’s body, you could listen to him talk without flinching and being overcome by a murderous urge.

“I want my best friend back, you bastard,” you growled, moving closer to the mark on the floor and pointing Ruby’s demon-killing knife, which the Winchesters had lent to you before the mission, at the demon.

The demon laughed. It was more of a manic, wicked, cackle than a laugh, and then it looked at you through Sam’s hazel eyes with disdain.

“Oh, you’d never lay a finger on your handsome friend’s body over here,” said the demon, dropping you a wink. “Plus, if you want me gone so much, you can go on and exorcise me. You know the words, sweetheart, don’t you?” the demon added, assuming a deep, husky, provocative tone of voice as he spoke.

Never losing eye contact with you, the demon made Sam’s hands run all over his broad chest, unbuttoning a few buttons of his red plaid shirt as it did so, putting Sam’s chest on display.

Trying to suppress the feeling of giddiness that came over you when you saw the hunter’s bare chest, you mustered all your hatred towards the demon in one heated glare, which made you narrow your eyes and grit your teeth as you tried not to stare at Sam’s chest.

“Oh, I can exorcise you. But I need information first. About Crowley’s whereabouts. Tell me. Where is he?” you asked, gathering all of your self-control and willpower to make your voice sound nonchalant as you spoke. Your gaze, while still full of hatred, held authority, and your posture -seemingly relaxed, but actually tense and ready to attack should the need arise- exuded superiority. To accentuate the fact that you weren’t bluffing -which you actually were, because you’d never touch a blade to Sam’s skin- you ran a casual finger along the serrated blade of the demon-killing knife, smirking.

The demon caught the bluff though, and gave another one of its expected hysterical cackles. “You’re not gonna hurt this body. I can see it in the way you’re trying too much not to stare at his chest; in the way you’re stalling for time and trying to trick me. But honey, I’m a demon. I can’t be lied to. The thing is, you’re so painfully in love with the man I’m possessing that it’s so obvious it hurts. So obvious to everybody but you two. So no, you’re not hurting Sammy over here, so I’m-” You were so angry you saw red. You raised your voice over the demon’s, cutting it off mid-sentence, and spewed out an exorcism, not caring that in doing so you were completely neglecting your actual goal.

With a howl of pain, the demon left Sam’s body and you hurried up to him as he collapsed to the ground, kneeling next to him and helping him sit up.

“Sam... are you okay?” you asked him, and he stifled a groan, but nodded.

“I’m fine...” he managed to say. “But... we were supposed to gather information about Crowley,” he said. On impulse, you gripped his face between your hands and looked him square in the eye. You could lose yourself in his hazel, ever-changing, eyes. Depending on the lighting, they could seem green, or blue, or brown, and you could spend hours thinking about them, but right now you had to focus.

“I don’t care about that, Sam. You are so much more important to me than any piece of information that demon could have given us,” you said.

He frowned and stayed silent for a bit. Neither of you moved an inch, and you could feel his breath hot against your face.

“Is what the demon said true?” he said, finally breaking the silence. “Do you... Are you in love with me?” he asked cautiously.

You were taken aback by his question. You had expected something along the lines of ‘let’s go find Dean’ or ‘it’s okay that you didn’t get information from the demon about Crowley, but we have to figure out what to do next’, so you were surprised. So surprised that you blurted out your response without thinking.

“Yes,” you said, and his eyes widened imperceptibly in surprise.

His face broke out into a grin that held so much happiness it made you smile as well. “That’s excellent. Because... because so do I,” he said, his voice trailing off in a whisper as he leaned in closer to you.

Your lips met hesitantly at first but then, as you both were drawn closer to each other like moths towards the light, it was magic. He was a great kisser, and he elicited small sounds from you as he nipped and sucked on your lower lip. Your lips tingled where they met his, and you had never felt better.

And, as you pulled away, you smiled, because you had not only gotten a friend back, but a lover too.

My Bad Taste, Really? - Dean Winchester

Dean x fem!reader

Warnings: Dean starting something he shouldn't have

Word count:  716

Summary: Dean makes fun of read, but it backfires

Author's note: Just kinda thought of something i wanted to write a supernatural imagine and well i´m a dean girl. P.S. i know it's really short but i just wanted to do something with Dean really quick.

Masterlist

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Readers p.o.v.

“Dean I swear if you say one more thing I will take that gun out of the back of your pants and I will shove it where you don't want, capiche?!” I said well I yelled,  as we entered  Bobby's  house.  We were coming back from a hunt, and on the way back Dean decided to of course Start an  argument.  I love him but  sometimes I want to strangle him.

“And I promise if you just agree you have bad taste in everything  and well everything, I will stop, I promise”  he said leaning down to my height since I’m shorter to him.

I Could hear Sam and  Bobby talking, “What happened during  that hunt that caused this  argument?”  Bobby ask Sam. “ Bobby I can honestly say, that you want no part in it. trust me.” Sam replied back.

“May I ask what exactly is this argument about?”  Bobby asked me and Dean.

“ Dean says I have bad taste in everything that I choose”  I said with condescending smirk.

“What?!” Dean said when Bobby and Sam looked at him, “It's true. I just want her to admit it”  he said with a smirk.

after I listed everything that he said I had bad taste in to Bobby and Sam and Dean just kept having a reason for everything that he said not a very good reason but a reason. He finally said something that just made me snap.

“ okay so if I have such bad taste  in everything I choose, what does that make you. I chose you Dean, I chose to be with you Dean. So if i have such bad taste. What.Does.That.Make.You.hmm?” I snapped at him, then I stormed off outside.  Leaving Dean standing there pissed at himself, and Bobby and Sam shaking their heads at him.

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I was sitting outside on one of the old cars for about 4 and half hours now. Its dark, I'm betting probably around 8pm. I didn’t feel bad about snapping to Dean after everything said after everything we’ve been through and he… I just don’t feel bad.

“Y/n ?” I heard Dean say, walking up behind me. I could hear the clinking of 2 beers.

“What do you want Winchester,” I asked not in the nicest tone. He sat down next to me on the hood of the car, with his head down.

“I’m sorry, I didn't really mean ‘everything’ and I didn’t mean me,” he said, I could tell he was beating himself up about it early by the way his voice sounded.

“Dean, I’m not sorry for saying what I said. After how long it took for you to convince me it would be ok for us to be together, and that being a ‘big’ decision I made in my life. And then you say I have bad taste yet my taste chose you? That hurt.” I said while taking a beer from his hand and opening it.

He shifted so he was facing me, he lifted his hand stroking the back of my head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart I love you sooo much. Thought it would be just another silly argument, but I took it to far and I hurt you and I’m sorry.” his voice sounded so broken.

“Look, Dean, I forgive you, it just hurt a lot.”

“I know, I know baby. I’m so sorry.” he said then kissed my forehead. He wrapped his arm around me and I leaned into him.

“So Winchester, what shall we do tonight?” I asked him while taking a sip of my beer.

“You know soon you’ll have to say Mr.Winchester, cause I’ll be able to call you Mrs.Winchester.” he said with a big happy smirk on his face.

“Ah yes, my soon to be husband” I said smiling up at him.

He smiled back and we kissed. I’m so happy to have him around even though he’s a pain in the ass sometimes, I do love him.

Crushing part two

Dean x reader

Summary: y/n has found Dean in a compromising position, Dean has found out about y/n’s crush. Not everything ends well.

a/n: I am so sorry this has taken so long! But I got there, busy ass week. Hoping to write more next week and get more things posted. Thank you to @megamall98 for the request.

warnings: angst, sex/adult themes, swearing

word count: 1268

Part one

---

God her lips! I couldn’t get enough; they were rosy red and plump they looked just like theirs. Like y/n’s. And by chuck was this woman a good fucking kisser. I close my eyes imaging that I was kissing y/n instead.

It hadn’t taken long for me and the random woman I had picked up in the local bar to arrive back at the bunker. The alcohol I had consumed to forget my love for y/n was rushing through my veins. I probably shouldn’t have driven, I know y/n would kill me if she knew, but I need to forget about her; move on, and this chick on my arm was my answer. As soon as we entered the bunker, we were like teenagers, her body was clad in a little tight black dress, nothing like y/n would wear; it made it easier to separate hook-ups from y/n if they were complete opposites. I pinned her against the wall, my fingers dancing up her thigh, my lips pressing gently then hard, then gentle again against her neck until I reached the right spot and she moaned. My fingers continued their journey, playing with the elastic of her panties, fingers creeping underneath, playing with her clit.

We moved throughout the bunker, from the door to the kitchen to the floor. I pinned her arms above her head, sliding her little black dress up her body, before pulling off her panties. Her blonde hair was splayed around her, like a halo, she looked godly, beautiful even; but no where near as amazing as y/n. I closed my eyes, before peppering her neck with kisses, imagining y/n beneath me, my cock getting harder.

But that’s when the argument started.

A short gasp, followed by the slamming of the front door, gave away to someone intruding. I whipped my head around, and there they were. Fuck, I had forgotten about them; I guess my plan worked. But the flash of hurt, anger, confusion that quickly appeared on their face quickly pulled me to my senses. I clambered up off of the blonde on the floor, noticing tears at the corner of y/n’s eyes, before they suddenly turned around, running off, their feet pounding on the floor.

“Fuck! I’ve really screwed this up” I mutter to myself, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. I turn and look at the annoyed blonde, who was no longer attractive and was no longer getting any of me.

“I have to deal with this, look I’ll call you later Maria” I mumble, turning away to follow y/n. I don’t actually know the blondes name to be honest, and I also don’t have her number, but even if I did have her number I’d never call it.

Catching up with y/n is not as easy as it seems. Y/n’s fast, well they should be, they’re a hunter. But I’m taller, and my long legs give my advantage; like a predator chasing its prey. I reach out, my fingers ghosting their arm, but that’s all it take to grab them and yank them into my chest before spinning them around to face my direction. They don’t look at me, head hanging down, I hurt them. I know I hurt them. If I could, I would be theirs in an instant, but we’re hunters, we can’t live the apple pie life. We can’t live their dream.

I want them to look at me, I want to see their beautiful eyes, even if they show all the hurt I’ve caused them. “Look at me y/n” I growl, grabbing their chin gently with my thumb and finger, lifting their head up so their eyes can meet mine. My other hand lifting to move hair out of their face and brushing it behind their ear. Yet, they pulled away, like they were disgusted, grossed out. Like I was the sludge at the bottom of a bin.

“You’ve got to get over this crush thing” I yell harsher than I intend too, my arms waving between the two of us. Little do they know I’ve loved them for ages, but I can’t, we can’t. They want the apple pie life, and I can’t give them that, I want them to be happy, and they’d never be happy with just me. I miss the days where we were close, where I knew they didn’t like me back, where I was the only one getting hurt. Like the day where they fell asleep in the library slumped over a pile of lore books, hair scruffy like a mane around their face, a small dribble of drool escaping their lips, I missed the closeness between us, like when I picked them up, their warmth radiating off of them, their smell invading my senses. I loved the feeling of their skin on my lips as I tucked them into bed, kissing their forehead before whispering “I love you. Y/n” I miss the days where only I was the one getting hurt.

But now I have to break their heart.

“Look, y/n. I don’t feel… whatever it is I’m supposed to feel for you” I mutter, my heart shattering. I wanted nothing more to pin them against the wall and kiss them; tell them, show them how much I love them, but I can’t. They want the apple pie life, and I can’t give them that. So, I lie, through gritted teeth.

“But you told me you loved me!” They yell, eyes red with anger and hurt, oceans of tears pouring down their cheeks. Fuck, they had heard me that night, that’s what started all of this. Why did they have to hear me?

“I love you, y/n” I whisper, I see the hope in their eyes, and it hurts but I had to tell them I love them one last time, before I have to hurt them. “I love you so much…” My heart shatters, this isn’t the way I wanted to confess, damn why did I have to be a hunter, I want to give her that apple pie life! I feel frustrated, angry at myself at my life choices, I wish everything was different. “I love you so much… just not in that way” I finished. They gasped, stepping backwards slightly, stepping away from me, like they were wounded. I wish I could take care of them.

“I don’t want to lie to you, y/n. I care about you, I always will, but you and me, are never gonna happen.” I lie through my teeth. I reach out a hand, trying to at least wipe a few tears away, but they just slap at my hand, my skin starting to turn red from the contact. My hand stings, but the pain doesn’t hurt anywhere near as much as my heart.

I’ve got to finish what I’ve started, rip the plaster off. “Y/n” I sigh, lowering my arm away from them, “You need to move on”.

I can’t look at them any longer, I can’t see the pain I’m causing them, I should be the only one in pain. I leave, turning my back to them, I heard the thump of their body falling to the floor, the loud sobs as I walked away. I felt my hot tears burning my skin, as they break through my outer defences.

I try to convince myself that this is the best for them, for us. They can get the life they wanted, and I’ll go back to the only one being hurt. The way it should be, because Hunters like me, we don’t het happy ever afters.

--

Part one | Main masterlist

Your Love is a Bad Medicine

Dean Winchester x Sister! reader

Song: Bad Medicine - Bon Jovi

Warning: Separation anxiety

Description: Dean and his little sister are on their way to get Sam from college.  Dean has to go somewhere, and the youngest Winchester is left in the room by herself. Her anxiety begins to act up while she waits for her brother to come back.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

          (Y/n) tapped her foot anxiously against the dirty red carpet of the motel room. She sat in the green chair by the window, glancing through the blinds, into the parking lot.

         The sun had gone down a while ago so the only illumination she had were the few door lights that actually worked. (Y/n) bit into her bottom lip, gnawing at the bruised skin as her anxiety peaked a bit more. The small box TV sitting on the dresser played in the background. Static flickered every now and again due to the bad quality of the motel. The young girl turned it on to distract herself from the road but the worry for her brother grew and grew over the night.

         Dean had left hours before sunset and had not come back since. She knew he could handle himself but the worry that something bad could happen inundated through her mind, nonetheless. Slipping her fingers through to push the blinds open, she felt tears forming in her eyes when she still didn’t see the Impala turning into the motel.

         (Y/n)’s throat began to clog up as she tried to stop from letting out a cry. She then glanced at her phone that was charging on the bed. Almost too quickly, she threw herself across and pulled the cell harshly off the plug. She instantly went into her contacts, her shaking finger hovering over Dean’s name. She pressed down, listening to the repeating ring coming from the phone.

         However, the instant feeling of guilt spread through her. (Y/n) immediately went back to the home screen and sighed. She wouldn’t want to bother him because of her worries, especially if he was working. A few stray tears dropped, and she lies her head back on the flat pillows.

         “Maybe listening to music will help,” the girl whimpered, turning the screen on and pressing the downloads she had. A smile reached her quivering lips as she saw the name of a song her and Dean like to sing together. She began to softly play it on her phone speaker. The beginning music resonated, causing her smile to widen.

 Your love is like a bad medicine

 Bad medicine is what I need

 Whoa oh oh

 Shake it up like a bad medicine

 There ain’t no doctor that can cure my disease

           (Y/n) turns it up as old memories began to resurface. She lifts herself, resting her elbows on the top of her knees. Leaving her phone in her lap, she reposed her head and closes her eyes, humming softly to the music.

 I ain’t got a fever, got a permanent disease

 And it’ll take more than a doctor to prescribe a remedy

 I got lots of money but it isn’t what I need

 Gonna take more than a shot to get this poison outta me

 And I got all the symptoms, count ‘em, one, two, three

          Suddenly, the door opens with an obnoxious voice singing along with the chorus. “Your love is like a bad medicine! Bad medicine is what I need!”

          (Y/n) jumps from her spot and instantly turns off the song that was playing. Her eyes were wide with fright and her fingers twitched at her side.

         Dean stood in front of the door, a few bags in hand. His brows furrow with confusion as he notices his little sister’s current state. He places the bags on the table that was beside the dresser, turning to (Y/n) with new concern. “What’s wrong, ankle-bitter?”

          “N-nothing! I just wasn’t expecting you to barge through like that,” (Y/n) replies, mentally cursing for her nervous habits.

         Dean gave his famous smirk, pulling his jacket off his shoulders. “Well, I thought you would be asleep until I heard music blaring. I guess we were both surprised.”

         “Y-yeah.” (Y/n) simply replies as she got up on the bed again and watched Dean go into the bathroom to change.

         After a few minutes, he comes out, plopping himself on the bed. “So, what have you been up to?” Dean asks, leaning himself on the headboard.

         “Not much...” (Y/n) mumbled out with a shrug.

         “(Y/n), is everything alright?” Another shrug was all he got. “Look at me.”

          She felt stupid. He was right here but she felt tears swarming again. Why was she so scared?

         “It’s nothing,” she said after a few breaths to calm herself.

         “Sure doesn’t look like nothing,” Dean grumbles. He straightens himself to a sitting position, all humor gone from his eyes. “Come on, tell me what’s on your mind-- is it about Dad?”

         “No! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m worried about his safety but that’s not it.” (Y/n) replied quickly.

         “So, something is bothering you?”

         The youngest Winchester sighs with irritation. She hates it when Dean does this. He knows just what to say and he will press on until she confesses.

        “I was worried about you, that’s all.”

         “Why? I was only out for a couple of hours,” Dean questions.

         “I-I know... doesn’t mean something bad couldn’t happen within those nine hours,” (Y/n) mutters in embarrassment.

         “You were counting time... is that why you called? I was going to answer but you hung up before I could.”  

         “Sorry.”

         “Don’t be sorry. You get nervous, I get it,” Dean trivializes, “but hey, we’re both here.”

         “Yeah,” (Y/n) agreed, smiling slightly at him.

         “Get some sleep. We gotta a good drive tomorrow,” Dean said, smiling in return.

         (Y/n) nodded, situating herself to a laying position on the bed. She felt Dean shift too, resting on his back. “Hey Dean...” she asks, while closing her eyes.

         “Yeah?”

         “Do you think Sam will be glad to see us?”

         “I don’t know... I guess we’ll have to wait and see. Sleeping would help pass the time.”

         “Yeah, yeah. Goodnight.”

         “Night (Y/n).”

    Your love is like a bad Medicine

 Bad medicine is what I need

 Whoa oh oh

 Shake it up like a bad medicine

 You got the potion that can cure my disease