Where It All Began

Safety

Word Count: 1,398 Pairing: Dean x Reader Summary: After being rescued from a terrifying ordeal, you struggle to come to terms with the trauma of your captivity. Trigger Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping and captivity, Panic attacks, Trauma response

Masterlist

The world felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. You were conscious, but barely. Your mind raced, heart pounded, and all you could hear was the echo of your own ragged breathing. The darkness around you was oppressive, and even though the danger had passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling of terror that gripped your entire being.

You didn’t know how long you had been in that place. Hours? Days? It was all a blur. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth, cold and unwelcoming. The ropes that had bound your wrists left angry red marks on your skin, now freed but still tingling with the ghost of their restraint. You had been trapped, powerless, at the mercy of someone with no mercy to give. And then, just when it seemed that there was no hope, he came.

Dean Winchester.

He moved like a force of nature, tearing through your captor’s defenses with a precision and ferocity that would have terrified you under different circumstances. But now, you barely registered his presence. The moment the ropes were cut, and you were free, your body crumpled to the ground. You weren’t thinking clearly. Everything was a hazy mix of fear and confusion.

Dean’s hands were on you, gentle yet firm, guiding you to stand. He spoke to you, his voice low and steady, but the words didn’t register. You were too far gone, too lost in the echoes of your terror. Your eyes darted around the room, looking for threats that no longer existed, unable to focus on the one person who had brought you to safety.

“Y/N,” Dean’s voice was sharp, pulling at the edges of your fractured consciousness. You flinched but didn’t respond. You were hyperventilating now, your breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. The walls of the room seemed to close in on you, and you could feel your pulse throbbing in your ears. The shadow of your captor lingered in your mind, more terrifying now that you were free than when you were under his control.

Dean grabbed your shoulders, his grip grounding you even as you trembled. “Y/N, listen to me,” he said, his voice more urgent now. “You’re safe. You hear me? You’re safe. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

But it was as if you couldn’t hear him. Your mind was trapped in a loop, replaying the worst moments over and over again. The fear was paralyzing, consuming every rational thought you tried to muster. Your gaze darted to the shadows in the room, convinced you saw movement, convinced he was still there, watching, waiting.

Dean’s fingers gently gripped your chin, trying to direct your attention to him, but you kept looking away, still searching for a threat that was no longer there. His voice softened as he called your name again, “Y/N, hey, look at me. Don’t look at him, look at me.”

His words broke through the fog, but only slightly. You looked past him, still not really seeing him, eyes wide with terror. Dean’s jaw tightened with concern, his own heart aching as he saw how deeply the experience had shaken you. He didn’t know all the details, but he could see the toll it had taken.

Slowly, deliberately, he moved closer, positioning himself directly in your line of sight, blocking out everything else. “Hey, look at me,” he repeated, his tone both commanding and reassuring. His hands moved from your chin to cup your face, his thumbs brushing away tears you hadn’t even realized were falling.

You flinched slightly at the contact, but Dean didn’t let go. He kept his grip gentle, but firm enough to keep your focus. His green eyes were locked on yours, filled with an intensity that cut through the haze. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”

You blinked, the first signs of recognition starting to filter through the panic. His presence was like a lifeline, something tangible and real to cling to in the sea of chaos inside your head. Slowly, your breathing began to slow, the frantic gasps easing into more controlled, albeit shaky, breaths.

“There you go,” Dean said softly, his thumbs continuing their soothing motions against your cheeks. “That’s it, just keep breathing with me, okay? In and out, nice and slow.”

You nodded faintly, your eyes finally locking onto his. The connection steadied you, anchoring you back to reality. Dean’s face was a mixture of concern and relief, his gaze unwavering as he guided you back from the brink.

“There you are,” he murmured, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve got you, Y/N. You’re safe.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry and tight, but you managed to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. “He… he was going to…”

Dean’s expression darkened for a moment, but he quickly pushed the anger aside, focusing on you. “But he didn’t,” he said firmly. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay? Not ever.”

The conviction in his voice was comforting, and you felt a tiny bit of the weight lift from your chest. You nodded again, more assuredly this time, and Dean released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said softly, his hands still cradling your face for a moment longer before he let them fall to your sides. He stayed close, his presence solid and reassuring as he helped you to your feet. Your legs were shaky, but Dean kept a steady hand on your arm, guiding you out of the dark, oppressive space that had held you captive.

As you stepped outside, the cool night air hit your face, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. The world seemed brighter, more alive, and with Dean by your side, you felt the fear begin to ebb away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief.

Dean led you to the Impala, his hand never leaving yours. He opened the passenger door for you, and you slid into the familiar seat. The leather was warm, the scent of the car instantly calming your frayed nerves. Dean rounded the car quickly, getting in beside you, and for a moment, the two of you just sat there in silence.

Finally, you turned to him, your voice still shaky but filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Dean. I… I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t…”

“Don’t think about that,” Dean interrupted gently, his hand reaching out to cover yours. “You’re here, you’re safe, and that’s all that matters. We’ll deal with the rest later.”

You nodded, squeezing his hand in return, the warmth of his touch grounding you further. “I don’t know how to thank you,” you whispered.

Dean’s eyes softened, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to,” he said quietly. “Just take care of yourself, okay? That’s all I need.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the last of the fear start to melt away. Dean was right; you were safe. With him, you always would be. And as the Impala roared to life and the road stretched out before you, you knew that no matter what came next, you wouldn’t be facing it alone.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester @whump-loverz @pizzagirlxnsfwx @king-of-milf-lovers

"At the top of the steps the front gate swung gently, gently. It came slowly to a halt."

“Cas! What the hell are you doing in here?!” Dean practically yelped. Castiel stood frozen, phone in one hand, the other half-raised and immediately forgotten. His mouth hung open as if every functioning brain cell had spontaneously vacated the premises. His eyes were growing to a worrying size with each passing second, steadfastly fixed at waist level. He unabashedly stared at the frilly pink lace peeking out of Dean’s ripped, borderline-offensive cut-off jean shorts. Both men stopped breathing. An entirely awkward second later with Dean's face color shifting through exciting undiscovered shades of red, Castiel swallowed audibly.  Dean stared daggers. “You know what, Cas? I own it." A wet sponge hitting Castiel square in the face pulled him back into reality. "Now get working and help me clean Baby!"

I HAD SO MUCH FUN DRAWING THIS!! I should draw more ridiculous things in the future :D

Prints available here!

👉COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN👈

[my social media links]

Get that sausage girl!

Sexy, right? 😂 

Yes @impala-dreamer it is. Thank you for sending it. 

~

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You answered Dean as you grabbed a slice of pizza from the box.

“Slide that over here would ya?”

“Sure. This is the sausage, or did you want the pep…” Your voice trailed off when you closed the lid and you saw Dean. He was crooking to fingers at you. Two fingers that not so long ago were making your eyes roll back.

The smug smile on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you. You knew you’d been silent for too long when you saw the look Sam was giving you.

“Sorry.” You laughed. “Completely zoned there for a minute.”

“Have you not been getting sleep?” Sam asked, concern obvious in his voice. “You’ve been kinda spacey for the past few days.”

The truth was, he was right. Dean had been occupying most of your alone time, and teasing every chance he got. You felt riled up constantly and it was getting harder and harder to keep your budding relationship quiet like you’d promised each other.

“Yeah, Y/N/N. Something keeping you up all hours of the night?” Dean sassed.

Instead of answering either of them, you took an extra large bite of pizza and looked at anything but a Winchester.

“Are you two? I KNEW IT!” Sam yelped.

Dean pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows, “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about Sammy.”

“Oh my God. Seriously, how long?”

“Guys can we just eat? I’m starving.” You tried to push the conversation to the side.

“No.” They replied, at the same time.

“How long have you been sleeping together?”

“It’s none of your business!” You snapped.

“Ha! So I am right.”

“Fuck.”

“Alright, alright.” Dean spoke up. “Long enough. Now, drop it.”

Sam just smiled, shook his head and went back to his pizza.

Dean stood, and walked over to you. “I wanted the sausage.” He said softly and bent down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. He didn’t say anything else, just grabbed the box of pizza and returned to his seat.

“Apparently so does Y/N.”

“Sam!”

“my daughter is completely fine!”

ma’am your daughter has to read fanfics about fictional characters just to maintain a healthy mental state

Soft Shadows

Summary: Written for @trexrambling ‘s Daring Drabbles challenge where my theme was “Candlelight.”

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 288

“All done,” said Dean, setting the lighter down as he crawled into bed with you. You’d never seen your room like this before and you couldn’t help but smile at Dean in the soft, dim light.

“This is…intimate,” you said, the few lit candles casting long shadows and warmth into the room, a pleasant, airy scent filling the space. Dean lifted his hand up and reached for yours, dancing his fingers together with your own, watching them move and play against the far wall. His breath against your bare shoulder felt hotter than normal, his muscled arm intertwining with yours closer than you’d ever felt it.

“You’re beautiful,” he said gently, his head tilting, his soft hair brushing your forehead for a brief moment before lush lips were pressing against your skin with a ghost touch. It was too hard to see but you knew that rare gleam was in his eyes, the one where tonight he knew he could forget about everything, that he would forget about everything. He was safe with you in this room, cozy and at peace. 

“Can we stay like this forever?” you asked. Dean brushed a finger over your cheekbone, tracing a different line than you were used to over the shadow.

“You glow,” he said, moving his thumb over the skin slowly. You turned into the touch and he tucked his body against yours. “We can stay here forever, Y/N.”

He didn’t say another word, simply tracked new curves and lines, changing as the candles burned down, a little of the darkness returning, threatening to consume all of the wonderful ways he looked in that room. Even when that too came and the light was gone, Dean wasn’t.

And he knew you weren’t going anywhere either.

Based on a conversation amongst friends.

[Click for better quality]

Dean's way of decompressing is to sit in his room and blast music through his headphones. He doesn't like to be interrupted, and when he feels your weight dip into the bed he's sure he will be.

But instead, you shuffle up to lay beside him, an arm draped over his chest. He thinks you might say something, so he turns the volume down and waits a little. But you never do.

It's been a while since he's felt understood, and it'll be a while before he can fully express that to you. He finds comfort in knowing you will wait patiently.

Someone had to do this :D

Series: Lockwood & Co, source: Brooklyn 9-9

8 random lockwood hcs bc im bored

probably not realistic at all, also keep in mind i’m really bad at writing.

-he’d DEFO have a little section for your books in his library

-i feel like he’d love jam but have the strongest hate for marmalade to the point he’d comically smash jars of it whenever he sees it

-he’s memorised how you like your tea but always has to ask how you like it

-he’s the type of guy to ask ‘you eating that?’ after he’s already taken the food off your plate

-talks about kipps way too much to the point you and lucy have made an inside joke about them being gay

-he tells a bad lockwood one liner and he feels so chuffed about himself until he looks over at you and the others cheesing at his words

-the type to secretly shazam songs at the function after saying shit like ‘the music here is terrible’

-hasn’t drank water in 3years