Dean Winchester Oneshot - Tumblr Posts

He Loves Me Not

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 910

Summary: Dean is giving you the cold shoulder... why? 

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Hope you like it!

Dean grunted as you tightly wrapped a bandage around his arm. He fixed you with a death glare and you tried not to flinch. If looks could kill, the piercing green stare that was on you would have made your heart stop beating in the blink of an eye. You had to take that grunt as a ‘thanks’ because just then the hunter got up from the arm of the couch and stalked off to his room, leaving you there to stare at his retreating back. Each step that led him further away from you felt like a stab in your heart, because you felt things about him. Things that you weren’t necessarily proud of, but things that were there nonetheless, and they made your skin tingle at the barest brush of skin on skin. You heard Sam clear his throat from behind you and you shook your head to clear your brain, tearing your eyes away from the long-closed door of Dean’s room. You turned to face the younger Winchester, who had his eyebrows raised in a silent inquiry.

“What is it?” you asked him, feeling your cheeks redden under his gaze, and you fought to keep control of your voice. Sam tilted his head in the direction of Dean’s bedroom. “You and Dean. I know that the way he’s been acting is bothering you, it’s clear as crystal. I know how you feel about him,” he said. “You... you know? Is it that obvious?” you asked, feeling your cheeks heat up. You knew there was no reason in denying your feelings about Dean; not to Sam and definitely not to yourself. Sam nodded. “Everybody but Dean knows,” he said.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down. For God’s sake, you were a hunter; you couldn’t have a panic attack if Sam and Cas knew about your love life -or lack thereof. “Why is he acting this way though?” you blurted out just as Sam was about to turn around and start his research on anything that would be any help with finishing the current case. “Why is he treating me like I’m trash? I’m only here to help you the way you two helped me,” you sighed.

“I think he’s just jealous. You show up out of nowhere, you’re a top-notch hunter, you know how to do stuff. Don’t worry; he’ll adjust. Plus... I’m sure he likes you too. He just doesn’t know what to do about it.” “Not acting like a bastard would be good to begin with,” you muttered under your breath, and Sam gave you an apologetic smile. “You’ll get to that,” he said, and left to start the research that would bring you one step closer to finding out more about the monsters hot on your tail but would not make you understand Dean’s reasons for acting like he hated your guts.

You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed that night had fallen, and Sam had long exited the room to go to sleep. The ever-vigilant hunter part of you that was half-asleep barely registered a bedroom door open and close as Dean walked into the living room. His eyes met yours and it was as if you had been doused with ice water. You jolted to your feet immediately and tried hard not to look flustered. “Dean,” you acknowledged him with a nod, quickly looking away and avoiding meeting his eyes. “Y/n,” he said, and his deep voice was surprisingly gentle. It had always been gruff when directed towards you, dismissive but not less attractive. Now that his voice was soft and almost tender, it practically sent shivers down your spine.

“What is it?” you asked him, and you were surprised when you felt fingers gently stroke your chin and life your head up so that your gaze met Dean’s green eyes. “I heard what you and Sam were talking about a couple of hours ago,” he stated, and you felt another blush rush to your cheeks. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way. That was never my intention. I was just... protecting myself in the completely wrong way. What Sammy said was true. I do like you,” he confessed, biting his plump lower lip and drawing your gaze straight down to the path his teeth and tongue made. It was obvious that he’d noticed you looking as he leaned down to reach your height and pressed his lips on yours.

God, those lips combined with those skills should be illegal, you thought, and that was as far as that train of thought went, because he had pushed you back down on the couch and he was kissing you so roughly and with so much abandon that it made your heart beat so fast it felt like it would break out of your ribcage. The heated kisses gradually slowed down to gentler, loving ones that allowed you both to explore each other. Eventually, he pulled away, out of breath, and his gaze met yours for one more time, only this time you didn’t flinch away. His pupils were blown wide with lust, almost completely covering the bright green of his irises, and you were mesmerised. “So you go from insulting me to kissing me senseless?” you teasingly managed to say in-between gasping breaths. Dean just winked at you. “Yep,” he said with a dazzling grin. “But I sure plan on just doing the latter from now on.”

Get a room.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader

Summary: After a particularly bad hunt, you were patching Dean up in the motel room, but he said he needed to be healed up the right way.

Content: fluff(?), kisses, Sam kind of being the third-wheel, no use of y/n, mentions of injury

English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!

Word count: 698

You and Dean had just stumbled back to the bunker after a long, exhausting hunt. It was one of those hunts where everything that could go wrong, did. Dean had taken a hit from some nasty vamp, even after you told him to be careful, but Dean? Nah, that word wasn't in his vocabulary. And while he made no big deal of the gash, you knew it was serious enough to need a little patching up.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt off, grimacing slightly as you cleaned up the deep cut on his shoulder.

"Ow—! Careful," Dean grimaced, shooting you a mocking glare. "You trying to finish me off, sweetheart?"

"Quit being a baby," you shook your head. "You're lucky this didn't go deeper."

“I’m always lucky,” Dean responded, a smirk spreading across his face despite his slight wince when you dabbed the cloth on his wound again.

"Uh-huh. I should just leave you to bleed out next time, it would save me a whole lot of trouble." you muttered, beginning to bandage him up, nodding in approval of your work once you secured it.

Dean shifted, sighed, then flashed you a lopsided grin. "I think you missed a step, sweetheart."

"What step?" you raised an eyebrow, confused.

“For me to fully heal… there’s only one thing that’ll work.”

“What?" you almost rolled your eyes. "Lemme guess, whiskey and pie?”

He grinned wider. “Nope. Kisses. Specifically, from you. On my face. All over. Only way this wound’s gonna close up right.”

You snorted. “Right. Because that's definitely how medical science works.”

Dean winced dramatically. “You don’t believe me? It’s a foolproof healing method. I swear it.”

"C'mon, don't leave me hanging here—this is life or death." He added for good measure, tapping a finger to his cheek.

Despite yourself, you laughed. “You are so full of it, Winchester.”

“One kiss. Or like… fifty. But who's counting?” He shrugged.

You sighed, fully aware you were playing into his game but too tired to fight it. You leaned down and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, where his finger tapped relentlessly until you gave in.

“There you go,” Dean said, clearly pleased. “But you missed a spot—” He pointed to another area, so you kissed it too. “And there—” Another kiss. “And the forehead—” You kissed his forehead. “And—”

“Okay, Dean, that’s enough."

"Not enough. I can still feel the pain." He let out an over-the-top groan.

You sighed in exasperation, considering to either just punch him across the face or keep giving into him—you chose the latter.

Just as you were placing more kisses onto his face—the grin on his lips made him look like a love-drunk idiot—the door swung open.

Sam walked in with some takeout bags, he froze in the doorway, eyes widening as he took in the scene: you, practically sitting on Dean’s lap, showering his face with kisses, while Dean looked way too proud of himself.

“What did I just walk into?” Sam groaned, immediately making a beeline to the table to avoid getting another glance at the two of you.

"Hey, it's a part of the healing process, Sammy." Dean smirked, looking over to his brother.

Sam blinked, then made a face like he just swallowed something sour. “Gross. Seriously, guys, get a room.”

“We’re technically in a room, you know.” you said, getting off of Dean who seemed too reluctant to let you go.

"A room that you walked into." Dean added, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Sam set the food down, still shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, well, next time, maybe give me a warning first so I know not to come in while you guys are having a whole smooch-fest."

"You're just jealous."

"You two are impossible."

"Buzzkill."

Sam just groaned in annoyance again, starting to unpack the food.

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, feeling a bit guilty—though not that guilty. You glanced at Dean, who tugged on your hand with a happy expression.

"Next time, we're giving you painkillers." you said, lifting your hand up and running your finger through his hair.

"Not a chance." Dean smiled.