eurydicewritesfictions

[eurydicewritesfictions]

Dean Winchester and The Palladium

Chapter 3: Rowena’s Remedy

Hello! Its Eurydice! I am back with the third chapter of the series.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC

summary: It is the morning after your nightmare and Dean is next to you. You need to figure out what the dream meant.

Word count: 15k+

Warnings: Light Swearing | Flirting | Mentions of death | sexual scenes | Touching | Fluff | Mention of Weapons | Dean trying to restrain himself | Slight Angst | Dean's PoV | Smut | Oral (F! Receiving) | PiV sex| Swearing | 18+

A/N: I know it took a little long to post this, sorry about that. This is a long one but we have smut at the end so.. yay ! This is also my first time writing a sex scene so tell me what you think. The story will conclude in the 5th chapter. 2 more to go :D

Dean's PoV-

Dean woke to the soft sound of her breathing, steady and even against his chest. For a moment, he stayed perfectly still, letting himself enjoy the quiet—something rare and almost sacred in their line of work. The bunker was still, the only other sound the faint hum of the old pipes.

His arm was draped lazily around her waist, her body curled close against his side like it belonged there. Her long brown hair was still loosely braided from the night before, a few stray strands escaping to frame her face. He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over her features. That jawline of hers—a mix of delicate femininity and stubborn strength—was something he caught himself staring at more often than he’d like to admit.

And damn if she didn’t look small next to him. She was tall, sure, but there was something about how she nestled against him, her legs tucked just so, that made her feel almost fragile. Almost. Dean knew better than anyone how much fire she carried in that lean frame of hers.

God, you’re whipped, Winchester. His inner voice was loud, mocking, and absolutely right.

She shifted slightly, her hand brushing against his stomach as she stirred, her fingers curling unconsciously into the fabric of his shirt. His breath hitched for a moment. Okay, calm down. She’s just… sleeping. It’s not like she’s trying to kill you with those stupid, dainty little hands or anything.

Her eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep, and she blinked a few times before focusing on him. For a second, there was just silence, the kind that hung heavy and comfortable. Then her lips curved into a lazy smile.

“Morning,” she murmured, her voice low and scratchy, and Dean swore it was the best damn sound he’d ever heard.

“Morning,” he managed, his voice coming out a little rougher than he’d intended.

She shifted again, stretching slightly, her knee brushing up against his thigh. His jaw clenched. Great. This is fine. Totally fine.

“You’re staring,” she said, her tone teasing as her eyes locked onto his.

“Well, you make it hard not to,” he shot back, his lips tugging into that familiar smirk.

Her laughter was soft, the kind that made something warm twist in his chest. “That line work on all the girls?”

“Only the ones who sleep in my bed,” he quipped, earning an exaggerated eye roll.

“Technically, it’s my bed,” she countered, propping herself up on one elbow. The shift brought her face closer to his, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Damn you, woman.

“Semantics,” he muttered, his hand moving almost of its own accord to brush a stray strand of hair from her face.

“You’re impossible,” she said with a chuckle, though the soft look in her eyes told him she didn’t mind one bit.

“Yeah, but you’re still here,” he replied, his voice quieter now, the teasing edge giving way to something more genuine.

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, his stomach growled loudly, cutting through the moment like a buzzsaw.

“Oh, for the love of—” Dean groaned, dragging a hand down his face as she burst into laughter, the sound filling the room.

“Well, I guess you’re hungry,” she teased, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her braid swayed slightly as she moved, and Dean’s eyes followed the motion before he could stop himself.

“Breakfast?” she asked, glancing back at him with a knowing smile.

“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he sat up. “But I’m making it. You’re still on recovery duty from last night.”

“Dean Winchester, domestic god,” she teased, and he grinned.

“Damn right.”

Dean quickly went downstairs, to the kitchen, moving around the counters with the kind of focus that only came with a dangerous combination of hunger and familiarity. He cracked eggs into the skillet, the sizzle echoing in the otherwise quiet bunker. The smell of bacon slowly started to fill the air, making his stomach growl again—louder this time, a solid reminder that he hadn’t eaten anything since the night before.

The familiar sound of light footsteps followed his stomach's growl. He turned, casting a glance at the counter where Sole was already perched, looking like she owned the place. She’d done this before, every morning after a long night, sitting there like she was the queen of the kitchen. Today, though, there was something different about her. A little spark in her eyes, a bounce in her step. What the hell?

She was fiddling with her phone, and before Dean could ask, she hit play on a song that Dean couldn’t help but recognize.

“Oh no…” Dean muttered to himself, knowing what was coming.

The first notes of "Celestial the Queen" blasted through the speakers, and Sole, without missing a beat, started humming along. She glanced at Dean, catching the look on his face, and broke into an exaggerated grin. “What? You don’t think I have good taste?”

Dean shook his head, trying to focus on his cooking. Damn it, why is she so damn distracting? Hell, watching her lose herself with the music like that didn’t make things any easier. Stop it, Winchester. Focus on the eggs.

“Your taste in music is good, I have to give you that,” he said, trying to keep his attention on the food while simultaneously wondering how much longer his willpower would hold up.

"Of course it is, I am Sole Vinci," she said with a dramatic hair toss.

Dean just rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny there was something about her energy that made him forget, even if just for a moment, the weight of everything. The world was constantly throwing them curveballs, and it was rare that he got a moment to just breathe.

The sound of the front door creaking open startled him, and Sam walked in, rubbing his eyes as if he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "The music is too loud," he said with a grumpy face. "Considering what happened last night, I was kind of expecting you to be a little less upbeat. After everything with Lucifer…" He trailed off, his eyes flicking between Sole and Dean, trying to figure out why she seemed so damn chipper.

Dean’s stomach gave another growl, and he tossed the eggs on a plate. “Well, apparently, my cooking’s so good, it’s brought her back from the dead,” he said, trying to keep the conversation light.

Sole, however, didn’t take the bait. She looked directly at Sam, her face growing a little more serious, the earlier spark fading as she sat back down on the counter.

“The nightmare... it wasn’t just a dream,” she said quietly, her voice low but firm.

Dean’s heart sank, and Sam looked at her with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean?”

Sole hesitated, her eyes glinting with an emotion Dean couldn’t quite place. “Lucifer... he didn’t just show up because of the trauma. It’s not like a normal nightmare. He’s been trying to get to me. You remember my dad’s journals, right? He had a lot of research on Lucifer and the archangels," she stopped for a moment, looking like she was picking up the right words to continue. “As the last Palladiums, my father didn't trust leaving the Italian chapterhouse out in the open like that. He and I basically memorized everything that was crucially important. We burned the ancient scripts, and, well, the rest of the library is already here. We know that Lucifer is gathering strength and I feel he needs something I know."

Dean’s stomach dropped. What the hell?

Sole continued, her voice still steady but tinged with something Dean couldn’t ignore. “We put some protections and wards in our minds to keep out the danger. The problem is... when Dad died, the seals weakened. Lucifer knows I’m a Palladium and connected to the Men of Letters. He knows I’ve got their archives, their knowledge. He’s been trying to get to me for months, but he can’t break through the seals completely.”

Sam exchanged a glance with Dean. “So, this... nightmare wasn’t just a random thing?”

“No, Sam. It was his way of getting through to me. Trying to send a message that he’s not finished. The nightmares will only get worse until I give him what he wants. But I don't even know what he wants."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the counter. Hell. This just keeps getting worse, doesn’t it?

“I’ve been trying to hold it off. But I’m not sure how much longer I can keep him at bay.” She looked between the two of them, her expression grim now. “You guys have been dealing with him for a long time, right? You know how... persistent he is," she gave a knowing look at Sam with an understanding and faint smile.

Dean gave a grim smile, though nothing was amusing about it. “We know. Believe me.”

Sam’s brow furrowed, his hands on his hips as he processed everything. “So the nightmares... Lucifer’s not just haunting you in your sleep. He’s trying to break you mentally. If you don’t find a way to stop him…”

“I’m already feeling him creeping in,” Sole interrupted a quiet frustration in her voice. “Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I’m losing control.”

Dean didn’t like the sound of that. He couldn't even imagine losing her to Lucifer, he had just gotten her. And we thought we had it bad with the usual demons and monsters.

“Alright,” he said, pushing off the counter and heading toward the fridge. “We need to figure out what to do. But first, let’s eat before we all starve.”

Dean grabbed the plates and they made their way to the library. His mind was still stuck on what Sole had said. Lucifer wasn’t just playing mind games—he was trying to break her, get to her head, and use her knowledge. It was classic Lucifer, all manipulation and psychological warfare. And it hit too close to home, once again. She wasn’t just some random person—she was… well, her. Dean had seen it for himself. She was tough as hell, smart, and capable. But no one, not even someone like Sole, could handle Lucifer alone.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Focus, Winchester. Get food in bellies first, save the world later.

Sam, who had been quietly eating the eggs, finally spoke up, his tone thoughtful. "We should talk to Rowena."

Dean froze for a moment, the fork grazing the plate as the only sound in the library. Rowena? Of course. The witch who was always one step ahead of them, full of tricks, double-crosses, and the occasional grudging help. A real pain in the ass, but damn, she knew magic like no one else.

“Rowena?” Dean muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Really? You wanna go ask the ‘I’ll hex you for fun’ witch for help?”

Sam gave him an exasperated look, his brows furrowing. "We don’t have a lot of options, Dean. If anyone can help us figure out what Lucifer’s after in her head, it’s Rowena."

Dean huffed, flipping the bacon in the pan. "You realize she’s more likely to betray us than help us, right? Hell, she probably enjoys seeing us squirm."

Sole, meddling with the bacons, smiled faintly. “And yet, you guys kept calling her when you needed something, didn’t you?”

Dean smirked, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Yeah, because we're really good at picking friends, huh?” His eyes flicked to her, and for a moment, the playful banter evaporated. “But, I get it. We might need her. God help us.”

Sam leaned against the table, pushing his plate of eggs aside. “You know I’m not crazy about it either, but if it helps us figure out what Lucifer wants, it’s worth a shot.”

Dean grumbled but ultimately nodded, reaching for his phone. “Alright, I’ll make the call. But I swear, if she’s in the middle of some fancy dinner party or trying to sell us something, I’m hanging up.”

Sole chuckled softly, her eyes glimmering with something like amusement. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear from you. And I am a little intrigued with the idea of meeting her,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

Dean shot her a sidelong glance, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled too. In that special ‘I’ll probably try to make you my next target’ kind of way.” He paused, then grinned at her, “But hey, if you want to meet her, I can’t stop you. Just know that it’ll probably come with a side of manipulation and a healthy dose of ‘I’m smarter than you’.”

Sole’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she tilted her head. “Sounds like my kind of challenge.”

Dean rolled his eyes, then dialed Rowena’s number. The phone rang three times before the familiar voice with its ever-so-pleasant Scottish accent greeted him.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Winchesters. How utterly delightful.” Rowena’s voice practically dripped with sarcasm. “What is it this time? I presume it’s important if you’re not simply calling to beg for another favor.”

Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. You’re so excited to hear from me. Look, we need your help, Rowena. Lucifer’s trying to mess with someone close to us. Sole’s having these damn nightmares, and we think he’s using them to get through her defenses. We need you to dig into her head and see if you can figure out what he’s after.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, followed by Rowena’s low chuckle. “Lucifer, you say? How quaint. Alright, I’m intrigued. But I’ll need a little more than that. What’s the story, hmm?” "Just come to the bunker and I will tell you all about it, huh?" Dean said with a cold tone.

Rowena’s laughter faded, and the line went quiet for a moment. Dean could almost picture her on the other end, no doubt sitting somewhere with that smug look of hers, calculating how much she could get out of this.

“Well, well. The mighty Winchester, getting straight to the point,” Rowena finally replied, her voice still laced with amusement. “I’ll be there soon enough, darling. Don’t start without me.”

Dean sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Yeah, we won’t start without you. Just get here before I lose what little patience I’ve got left.”

Rowena’s soft chuckle came through the phone one last time. “I’ll see you soon. And, darling, do try not to do something stupid.”

Dean ended the call, tossing his phone onto the table with a frustrated grunt. “She’s so damn insufferable,” he muttered under his breath, mostly to himself.

Sole raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips as she watched him. “You really don’t like her, do you?”

Dean shot her a look, but couldn’t help the small grin that pulled at his lips. “Oh, I like her. In the same way I like stepping on Legos barefoot. It’s a fun kind of pain.”

Sam, who had been silently listening to the exchange, let out a quiet chuckle. “We’re not going to learn what’s in her head without Rowena, okay? We’re here to get answers.”

Dean shot him a pointed look. “Yeah, yeah. I know. But it wouldn’t hurt to remind her who’s in charge once in a while.”

Sole shook her head, clearly amused. “You two are like brothers who just can’t get along.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah, well, Sam’s my little brother. He’s always gotta be the peacekeeper.”

Sam rolled his eyes, though the faintest smile tugged at his lips. “Let’s just focus on figuring out what’s going on with Lucifer and Sole. We’ll deal with Rowena later.”

Sole looked between the two of them, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “It’s not just about stopping him. It’s about figuring out what he’s after. And what he’s willing to do to get it.” She paused for a moment, glancing out the window, her expression more serious now. “I have a feeling he’s not done yet.”

Dean didn’t like the sound of that, but he knew better than to argue with Sole when she was in that kind of mood. She was right—Lucifer wasn’t the kind of demon who gave up easily.

***

Rowena’s heels clicked softly against the concrete floor of the bunker as she made her way into the main room, her presence unmistakable. She swept her red hair over one shoulder, a sly grin playing on her lips. Dean couldn’t help but feel a small knot in his stomach—something about Rowena’s confidence always had that effect on him. She didn’t even look like she’d been travelling, though they all knew she had the grace of a witch who could literally appear and disappear in the blink of an eye.

“Alright, darling,” Rowena purred, her eyes scanning the room as she paused just inside the doorway. “I see you have a new addition to your group, huh?”

Sole, who had been leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, pushed herself off and straightened, her gaze locked on Rowena. There was a quiet intensity in the air now, as if Sole could feel the weight of what was coming. “Yeah, I am Sole,” Sole said simply, her voice more serious than Dean had heard it before.

Rowena raised an eyebrow, her expression softening slightly. “So, you are that special someone. I couldn't fight the urge to meet you when Dean mentioned. I wasn’t about to leave you with no help, darling.” She took a few steps forward and stopped in front of Sole, studying her closely. “I know you… And you’re… just like your mother,” Rowena said, her voice carrying a tone of familiarity. “She was a remarkable woman. I met her years ago, in Italy. A brilliant witch—full of secrets, much like you.”

Sole’s eyebrows furrowed, her expression unreadable. “You knew my mother?”

Rowena nodded slowly, a flicker of something softer passing through her eyes. “Indeed. I worked with her a few times, even. We were both involved in some delicate matters back then. Your mother had access to certain... knowledge that could’ve changed the balance of power between the angels and demons. She was far more than a simple witch, believe me.”

Dean watched the exchange closely, trying to gauge Sole’s reaction. From the look on her face, it was clear that Rowena’s words had struck a chord with her.

“I never knew my mother,” Sole said, her voice quiet with a hint of sorrow but sharp. “And I certainly didn't know she was a witch.”

Rowena’s expression softened just a touch, though there was still a dangerous glint in her eyes. “She was one of the best. Your mother knew the consequences of holding that much of power better than anyone.”

Sole nodded, though Dean could tell the weight of that conversation was still heavy on her. There was more to the story, but now wasn’t the time for that. Rowena had more pressing things to discuss.

“Enough about your lovely mother,” Rowena said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s get to work. Lucifer, as always, is a complicated beast, and I’ll need you at your strongest, Sole.” Her gaze flickered to Dean for a brief moment. “Which is why we’re doing this.”

Sole looked at her with a mix of curiosity and caution. “I have memorised some ancient scripts a long time ago and we need to extract some information from them. What’s your plan?”

Rowena smiled, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “I have a ritual in mind—something that will help us find what Lucifer wants.” She held out a hand, her fingers curling in the air as if summoning the magic itself. “We’ll access the things sealed in your mind, the knowledge Lucifer is so desperate to get.”

Dean tensed, knowing exactly how dangerous this kind of magic could be. Rowena wondering inside Sole's mind? He hated the idea. “And what exactly is he after?”

“Well, I am here for that, am I not, you babbling child?” Rowena said smoothly, her tone a little more serious now.

Sole was silent for a moment, her gaze distant, as if sorting through memories she hadn’t thought about in years. Dean watched her carefully, feeling the tension between them grow. He knew she was a force to be reckoned with, but this… this was different. He didn’t trust Rowena and hell, he was scared for Sole.

“And how do you plan on getting this information?” Sole asked, her voice steady but curious.

Rowena smiled, her eyes narrowing in that way Dean had come to recognize as when she was about to get what she wanted. “I’ll be extracting the information from your mind, darling. The process will take some time, but I’m sure you can handle it.”

Dean’s stomach twisted. The idea of something messing with Sole’s mind didn’t sit well with him, but he didn’t have many options.

“Just be careful,” he muttered, his voice low. “I don’t want to lose you over this.”

Sole glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “You won’t lose me.”

Rowena, however, was already gathering ingredients for the ritual. She muttered something in a language that sounded ancient, weaving the threads of magic into the air. “Now, this is where it gets interesting,” Rowena continued. “The extraction process can be a little… taxing. It’ll wear you down, make you feel weaker, more vulnerable. But don’t worry, darling.” She glanced at Sole with a sly grin. “I have a remedy for that.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of remedy?”

Rowena’s grin widened. “Oh, just an old potion I’ve kept around for… occasions. It will restore your strength—but with a little side effect.”

Sole tilted her head, sensing something was off. “Side effect?”

Rowena’s eyes gleamed. “Well, let’s just say it makes you thirst for something a little… more. Something that will make you feel alive again.” Her voice dropped an octave, and Dean could feel the change in the air. “But don’t worry, darling. It’s harmless. For a while.”

Dean’s throat went dry, and he shot a glance at Sole, wondering how much trouble they were getting into with Rowena’s ‘harmless’ little remedy. Sole looked at Rowena, her brow furrowing slightly, but there was an unmistakable glint in her eyes.

“Fine,” Sole said, her voice firm. “Let’s get this over with.”

Dean clenched his jaw. Whatever came next, he wasn’t letting anything happen to her. He wouldn’t.

Dean stood back, arms crossed, watching as Rowena worked her magic. She was muttering in that fancy language of hers, casting some kind of ritual to dig through Sole’s mind. Normally, Dean would be all for getting answers, but with this…? He hated the idea of Rowena rummaging through Sole’s memories. Hell, he wasn’t sure he even trusted Rowena to do something this delicate.

As Rowena muttered another incantation, he caught a glance at Sole. Her face was taut with strain, but she wasn’t backing down. She was damn strong, and that was one of the things Dean admired about her the most. But watching her like this, practically baring her soul to Rowena, made him uneasy. There was a sense of vulnerability he didn’t like, a side of her that made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Sole’s eyes fluttered shut, her breathing shallow. He could almost feel her pulling away from the reality around her. This wasn’t just any ritual—it was deep. He couldn’t help but feel protective, even if he wasn’t the one doing the damn spell. But hell, he would’ve preferred taking a few rounds of demon hunting over this.

Rowena gave him a sharp look, clearly aware of the tension in the room. "Relax, darling," she said, her voice annoyingly smug. "I’m not here to steal her memories. Just retrieving the ones that matter."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Right. Because you’re totally trustworthy with that kind of thing." He didn’t trust Rowena on the best of days, but now? It was like letting a wolf babysit a sheep.

Sole’s hands clenched on her knees, her lips parting as she gasped for air. Rowena’s magic was clearly doing something to her, pushing her into a place Dean couldn’t follow, and he hated every second of it.

“That’s it,” Rowena said, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Just let go, darling. We’re almost there.”

"Yeah, 'almost' being the operative word," Dean muttered, glancing at Sam who was sitting nearby, looking just as concerned as Dean felt. “Sam, you sure this is a good idea?”

Sam gave him a look—one of those ‘I’m trying to be the voice of reason’ looks that really never worked on Dean. “We don’t have a choice, Dean. If Lucifer is trying to break through to her, we need to find out what he wants. Otherwise, we’re just guessing.”

Dean grumbled. “Guessing’s still better than letting Rowena inside her head.”

Rowena caught his eye, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "I’m not that bad, darling," she said, giving him a pointed look. "I have boundaries, you know."

“Yeah, well, I don’t trust you with anything,” Dean shot back, crossing his arms tighter. "Especially when it comes to Sole."

Sole’s body jerked as the ritual reached its peak. She made a low, strained sound, her entire posture tensing. Dean couldn’t stand it. He moved forward, ready to reach out to her, but held himself back. He wasn’t the one she needed right now, not with Rowena in control of the magic.

Suddenly, Rowena’s chant stopped. The room fell into a heavy silence, and Sole’s face went blank, as if the strain had finally broken her connection to the ritual.

“Well, that’s interesting,” Rowena muttered, bending down to Sole’s level. “I’ve gotten what I needed... but it seems there’s more to the story than we expected.”

Sole’s voice was hoarse, strained. “What’s going on? What did you see?”

Rowena didn’t look up immediately, but instead gave a low chuckle that made Dean bristle. "Ah, well, it seems Lucifer isn't just after your mind. He's after something much more important."

Dean’s stomach turned. “What is it, Rowena? Don’t leave us hanging.”

Rowena finally looked up, her expression serious. “It’s the Blade of a Hundred. The weapon forged from the blood of a hundred species... and Michael’s essence. The one that was forged when Lucifer betrayed God.” She paused, letting the weight of the words sink in. “And it’s location is in your mind, darling.”

Sole’s face went white, she could barely stand straight form the exhaustion of the spell. “What? No. That can’t be right.”

“Oh, it’s right, darlin'.” Rowena’s tone dropped to a low, dangerous murmur. “The Blade of a Hundred is the key to killing Lucifer. It’s all buried in your memories, and now... we know what Lucifer wants.”

Dean’s heart raced, and he stepped closer, wanting to grab Rowena by the throat, but he knew better than to engage with her right now. They had bigger problems. “Where is it? Tell us. We need to stop him.”

Rowena’s eyes gleamed as she stood, brushing off her hands. “That, I can’t help you with just yet, darlin'. Our lovely birdie here can't take any more of this spell, look at her,” she pointed at Sole's limp body on the armchair, melting away. Seeing her like this made Dean's heart ache. She was always strong, never like this drained.

Sole was shaking now, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. “We need to stop him. I need to stop him.” Dean’s heart clenched at the sight of Sole, her body slumped, barely able to hold herself up in the chair. He cursed under his breath, hands twitching as if he could somehow reach into her, pull her back from the edge of whatever this was doing to her.

Rowena, standing tall and annoyingly composed, made a show of dusting off her hands. “I told you, she can’t handle any more right now,” she said coolly, as if they weren’t facing a damn crisis. “The information is there, but her body needs rest. I can’t work my magic while she’s barely conscious. Let her recover before we proceed.”

Dean wasn’t listening, his eyes focused on Sole. He knew she was trying to be strong, the same way she always was, but it made his blood boil that she had to go through this alone. He wasn’t about to let that happen, not after everything they’d been through. He should’ve figured out some way to protect her better.

Sole looked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m fine, Dean. I can do this.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped, his voice harsh, but laced with something softer, something he wouldn’t admit out loud. He knelt in front of her, cupping her face gently. “You’re not fine. You’re barely hanging on. You don’t need to do this alone.”

She closed her eyes, her breath catching in her throat. “Lucifer... he’s coming for me, Dean. I can feel it. And I can’t let him win.”

Dean let out a heavy sigh, his fingers brushing the soft strands of hair that had fallen around her face. Damn her and her stubbornness. "You don’t have to carry this by yourself, you know that?"

"I know." Her voice was barely audible, but the weight of her words hit him hard. "But what if this is the only way? What if it's the only way to stop him?"

Dean’s heart twisted. “Well, it’s not the only way if I can help it. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Rowena gave a knowing look at the exchange between them, but Dean ignored her. “I don’t care what you think, Rowena,” he said, his voice low and clipped. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’s okay.”

Rowena raised an eyebrow, then turned back to Sole. “Well, I suppose I could ease the strain a bit, give her the remedy I mentioned earlier to recover more quickly.” Rowena added, her voice laced with something almost playful.

Sole’s eyes flickered, still heavy with exhaustion. “What kind of catch?”

Rowena stepped closer, her gaze shifting to Dean as if waiting for his reaction. “It’s an old remedy, one I’ve used on...certain occasions. It will replenish your strength, but there’s an effect, shall we say, that comes with it.”

Dean frowned, not liking the sound of that. “What do you mean, effect?”

Rowena smiled slyly. “Well, darling, it will certainly give her a burst of energy... So much energy.” Rowena’s voice was almost naughty.

Dean’s stomach dropped. The way Rowena said it—like it was some kind of game—it made his skin crawl. "What do you mean so much energy"

“Nothing too dangerous,” Rowena said, her voice turning smooth and almost teasing. “But I’m sure you’ll find it... interesting.” She looked directly at Dean, a wicked glint in her eye.

Dean groaned internally. “I swear, if she’s gonna start punching holes in the walls, I am out!”

But Rowena simply chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. “Now, don’t get too upset, Dean. It’s just a little... side effect. It’ll pass. Eventually.”

Sole’s voice cut through the conversation, shaky but determined. “I don’t care about any side effects. I need to stop Lucifer.”

Dean looked at her, heart sinking. She was too damn stubborn for her own good. “Alright,” he muttered. “But if this ends up being some weird, fucked-up magic... I swear to God, I’ll deal with you and Rowena both.”

Sole gave him a tired but faint smile, her eyes softening as she reached out to squeeze his hand. "I trust you, Dean."

And just like that, the world seemed to stop for a moment. Sole, always the strong one, was trusting him with something. He couldn’t mess this up.

“Fine. Let’s get it over with,” Dean said, voice gruff. He didn’t know what the hell was coming, but he wasn’t about to let it destroy her.

Sole looked at Rowena, ready to accept whatever remedy she was offering, even if it came with a catch. “Just do it.”

Rowena nodded, her fingers already weaving another spell. “Very well, darling. Prepare yourself.” She picked up a small vial from her pocket and put it on Sole's lips.

“Drink,” Rowena ordered, holding the vial to Sole's lips.

Sole gave Dean a brief, tired look before parting her lips, allowing Rowena to tip the vial gently into her mouth. The liquid was thick and tasted bitter, coating her throat with a warmth that quickly spread through her chest. Dean couldn’t tell if it was doing anything good or if it was just setting her up for a world of hurt.

Sole didn’t seem to react at first, just wiped her lips with the back of her hand and then took a deep breath. Dean watched her closely, bracing himself for whatever was coming next.

“You feel anything yet?” he asked, his voice tight.

Sole’s eyes flickered as if the weight of the potion was starting to kick in. “It’s...warm,” she said softly, blinking as if she was regaining her bearings. “But...there’s something else.”

Dean frowned, his instincts telling him that the something else wasn’t something he’d like. “What kind of ‘something else’?”

Rowena didn’t answer right away, her lips curling into a knowing smile as she watched Sole. But before she could respond, Sam, who had been lingering near the doorway, finally spoke up.

“Hey, what’s going on? Is she alright?” Sam’s voice was full of concern, though there was also a hint of scepticism in it.

Dean couldn’t help but glance at his brother. “She’s fine. For now.”

“Fine?” Sam raised an eyebrow, eyeing Sole with a sceptical glance. “She just drank something that looks like it came out of a swamp. She’s definitely not ‘fine.’”

Rowena gave a little chuckle, eyes twinkling with mischief. “She’ll be fine, darling. But she might need a little more... attention for a while.”

Dean shot Rowena a glare. He hated the way she made everything sound like a game. Dean moved his gaze to Sole for a brief moment before cursing Rowena for good but the moment he averted his eyes, Rowena disappeared, leaving them to their own.

Sole’s expression shifted then, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Dean... Sam... I—”

Before she could finish, her breath hitched, and she stumbled to her feet. Dean reached out to steady her, his heart skipping a beat.

"Whoa, hey, easy," he said, supporting her. “You good?”

Sole’s eyes were wide now, but there was something in them that made Dean’s stomach churn. “I feel... hungry,” she said, voice low and seductive.

Dean’s mind instantly went to places he didn’t want it to. “Hungry for what?” he asked, though he already knew.

Sole's gaze met his, and he could see a flash of something raw in her eyes. "Not food," she said, her voice almost too smooth, like she was savoring every word. "Something... more."

“What did that fucking witch give her?” Sam said with an angry tone.

Dean’s brain was working overtime, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He couldn’t help but notice the way Sole was looking at him now—her eyes a little darker, more intense, like she was... searching for something. He knew he had to get her through this, but right now, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of confusion and something else he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Sole,” he said, his voice low and steady, trying to keep control of the situation. “What exactly do you feel right now?”

She stepped closer, her movements more fluid than before, almost predatory. “I feel alive, Dean,” she said softly, almost in a whisper. “Alive in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.”

Sam took a step back, glancing between them, clearly uncomfortable. “Okay, that’s... that’s not good. We need to figure out what’s going on with her before this goes further.”

Dean couldn’t stop his own internal reaction, his heart hammering in his chest as Sole’s proximity made everything else seem distant. The way she was looking at him, her lips slightly parted... It was like nothing he’d ever seen before. The tension in the room was almost suffocating.

“I—I need to... get a handle on this,” Sole muttered, taking a slow, deliberate step back. Her voice had dropped into a lower, more husky tone, and she seemed to be fighting something inside herself. “But... it’s hard to think when I feel like this.”

"I can help you," Dean suggested, hoping he'd be able to restrain himself around her.

"No!" she hissed. "Not you." Though she protested the idea of Dean helping her, he could see that it was exactly what she wanted.

"Sam," she called out softly. The seductive tone was still there, but it was toned down when she spoke to Sam. "Take me to my room and lock the door behind me," she said, her eyes pleading.

Sam could feel the tension building in the room like it was suffocating him.

“Sam,” Sole said again, her voice quieter, more intense now. She reached out, her fingers grazing Sam’s arm as if she was trying to hold herself together. “Please. Just... help me.”

Sam looked between them, clearly torn. The awkwardness in his posture was palpable, his face contorting in confusion. He didn't like seeing Sole like this either, but he understood that as her brother, he needed to keep her away from Dean. Sam seemed to see the internal struggle in Dean’s face. He shifted uncomfortably, but his eyes never left Sole. "Alright, I’ll take you. Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”

Dean watched Sam take her to her room. He could already feel the pressure building in his chest. The way she looked at him stirred something inside of him. He couldn't stop but think how thirsty she looked for him. She wanted him, right there and there. Keep it together, he reminded himself. She is under a spell and this isn't how you want things between you and her to go.

Sam returned downstairs a few minutes later, his brow furrowed with concern. “She’s locked in her room. I think she’s... okay for now. The spell will wear out eventually, and you need to keep away from her for a while.”

Dean nodded. "I know, Sammy, but it is already hard to keep away from her and now..." he stopped for a second, "and the way she looked at me, I wanted to take her,” he said, his voice a little embarrassed from his admission but he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Do you think I didn't notice the looks you two share, Dean?" Sam asked raising an eyebrow. He chuckled at his brother's situation. "Try and relax. Once the spell wears off, we'll call Rowena again for the whereabouts of the blade."

*** Meanwhile, upstairs...

Sole sat on her bed, her hands shaking. She could feel the remnants of the potion Rowena had given her, lingering deep in her veins. Her energy was racing towards outer space. Her body felt like it was on fire, a deep, gnawing need clawing at her from the inside. It wasn’t just the hunger anymore—it was everything.

His lips, she thought to herself, how nice would it be to just...

She had to fight it. She had to.

She imagined his arms around her naked body, roaming and exploring every inch of it. She thought about how she'd wrap her legs around his waist as he held her against the wall. She thought about how wet she'd be. She thought about his cock pressing against her abdomen, aching and throbbing for her. She closed her eyes shut. Fight it, fight it goddammit, she reminded herself. You cannot screw this... not with Dean, the voice inside her head yelled. But the other voice, the one that was a prisoner of Rowena's so-called energy remedy, was screaming for something else. Let him fuck you, she screamed over and over and over again. You'd feel a lot better, she added.

The screams were too loud for her to keep it together. For an hour that felt like an eternity, she tried so hard to flush those dirty feelings away but after a while, when it was unbearable, she snapped. I need this, I need him, she reassured herself as she grabbed her phone. "Dean?" She asked with a husky, steamy voice. Dean swallowed thickly on the other end of the line. Damn that voice, he thought. "Yes, sweetheart?" he asked back, hesitantly. "I need you, Dean." She said with that firm, confident, and seductive voice of hers. It was Dean's undoing. Something inside him flipped, his heart was racing over his skin.

"Please," she said, her voice dripping with plea. "Please come here," she said once more.

Dean didn't even realize he was already climbing the stairs. By the time he noticed, he was already on Sole's doorstep. He had the key. He slowly opened the door and stepped in. There she was, standing tall like a goddess in heat. Her eyes were looking all over him like he was the most delicious thing she had ever seen. He flipped the phone and put it back into his pocket.

"I'm here, sweetheart," he said. "What do you need?" He knew exactly what she needed but he had to hear it from her. "You," her voice was all feathery sending a shiver down his spine. He moved closer, closing the distance between them.

"Are you sure?" He asked hoping the answer would be yes. "I don't want to do something you'd regret, sweetheart." "I want you, Dean." She said firmly. "I never wanted it to be this way but I wanted you for a while." She stopped, gathering some air to keep her composure and not to rip Dean's clothes apart. "I know you think I am under a spell but I am very much conscious. So, please?" She looked at him with doll eyes of hers, shining under the light of the room. Damn it. For Dean, it was getting harder and harder to keep it together. "You wanted me for some time, huh, sweetheart?" he couldn't help but be cocky at the moment, ignoring the growing heat between his legs.

"It's no time to be cocky, Winchester," Sole spoke with that intensity in her voice. She was getting wetter by the second and he wasn't making it easy for her. Dean saw how in need she was. "Say the words, Sole." He ordered, his voice was husky and he had the same primal hunger as Sole now. "Fuck me, Dean." She said, closing the distance between them completely.

Something inside Dean snapped. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer as if it was even possible. His lips crashed into hers. He was kissing her with need, like drinking water after a month in the desert. "I..." He mumbled into the kiss, "I wanted to do this for so long," he said breathily. She moaned into his mouth. The way he needed her as much as she needed him, made her stomach clench with pleasure. "Me, too," she managed to breathe out from his never-ending kisses.

Her words sent a shiver down his spine. Her touch was electric, her lips were soft like cotton and sweet like candy. I am going to lose my mind, he thought. Then, he slowly moved her toward the bed. Pushing her gently was enough to make her back meet the bed. He slowly climbed to her waist to undo her jeans. He slowly stripped her from her jeans and started placing kisses all over her legs.

"Dean," she shrivelled as his lips met her legs. "I am getting impatient." She squirmed with each kiss, her hand reaching out to tangle with his hair.

"Good thing you have long legs," he smirked while he continued to kiss her. Finally, when he was at the hem of her panties, he stopped to look at her. The way her eyes gleamed with that dark desire was all he needed to continue. He took off the underwear with haste signalled he couldn't wait any longer. The moment his lips met Sole's already wet folds, he let out a groan. "You taste like heaven," he said, his breath crashing into Sole's entrance. His tongue fastened as he trusted a finger inside her. She whimpered and instinctively tried closing her legs but Dean was quick to hold her legs pinned to their places. "Trying to make me suffocate, sweetheart?" He slapped Sole's pussy lightly. She vigorously shook her head, lips slightly parted, her eyes focused on him and only him. "No," she said almost like a moan. "I can't wait anymore, Dean."

"Oh, but you will wait," he said as he restarted thrusting his fingers into her. "Because, sweetheart," -he nibbled at her clit, sucking and letting it go with a smack- "I want to savour you."

Every move he made, every flick of his tongue, and each thrust of his fingers drove Sole closer to the edge. She was this close to seeing the fireworks as she could feel the knot in her abdomen untie. "Dean," a needy, breathy, and desperate moan escaped her lips. Her hand in his hair tangled even more as she got closer and closer. Suddenly, Dean stopped. Her eyes shot open and she creaked a little to see him. "Why'd you stop?" she asked, her tone almost angry. "I want you to come while I am in you," he said, climbing on top of her and placing kisses all over her as he did. "I want you to come on my cock." His eyes were darker, even intimidating. Sole couldn't help but swallow thickly as the anticipation of what was to come filled her stomach with butterflies.

"Just..." She breathed out with anticipation, "Hurry up, please." The needy look in her eyes was driving Dean crazy. He couldn't help but let out a low growl, grabbing her sides with a primal urgency, his fingers digging into her skin.

"You don't know what you do to me," he said, breathlessly. His normally bright, mossy green eyes were like a forest at night now. The sight of Dean, needy for Sole's touch and affection sent a shiver through her spine, making her arch her body towards his. Dean dragged her closer to the bedhead, making room for himself on top of her. "Are you sure?" he asked, unable to control his heavy breathing.

"Yes," she said simply, the anticipation was killing her. "Please," she pleaded once more. The remedy Rowena prepared for her was meddling with her mind. Every fibre in her being was acting like she was on crack and filled with energy. She was feeling better after that memory retrieval session, but she was also feeling this uncontrollable urge to just... fuck. You will feel the relief afterwards, the voice in her head said with a hitch as Dean adjusted himself on her entrance. She hissed at the feeling of Dean's cock resting gently on her wet slick. "Dean," she breathed out, her voice like a cotton field under the wind. Dean looked up at her, meeting her gaze. "If you don't say something now," he said with a hunger that was dripping from his voice, "I won't be abl-"

His sentence was cut by the sudden arch Sole made toward his pelvis, making his cock plunge inside of her with a wet sound. "Fuck," he said, his eyes closed and his chest rising up and down with the excitement of the moment. "Dean," Sole looked down at the sight of his buried cock inside her. "Don't make me wait anymore," she said, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him in closer. The next moments were filled with their mixed moans filling Sole's room. Every time Dean's pelvis made contact with hers, she couldn't help but let her needy moans slip from her lips. "You make such pretty sounds for me," Dean breathed into her skin, licking and biting the spot his breath crashed. As she let out another desperate moan of his name, he growled like an animal in need, her pretty voice making his insides churn at the sensation. "You're not so silent yourself," Sole said as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his butt. Dean slowly pulled himself away from her body, just enough to look her in the eye.

"You're shivering beneath me and you decided to be cocky... now?" he raised an eyebrow and picked up his pace as if he was punishing her. The sounds of their flesh slapping against each other filled Sole's ears. She sent a shit-eating grin to Dean, earning a passionate kiss. He suddenly pulled out and flipped her on her stomach. "Up," he commanded, his voice was like a song to Sole's ears. She obeyed and lifted her ass up, making a perfect curve like a cat stretching. "Good girl," he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, enjoying the perfect sight before him. He slowly plunged himself into her dripping cunt and hissed at the feeling. "God, you're amazing," he said as he lowered himself onto Sole, putting one hand on her back to keep her in place and the other on the bed to balance himself. He was deeper inside her with this position. She couldn't help but cry out his name every time their skin made contact. "Good god!" She cried out, her legs trembling. "I am honoured by you calling me God, but I am much better than that douchebag," He smirked, sinking his teeth into the back of her neck. He could feel her clenching her inner walls around him, making it harder for him to last longer. She raised her ass up higher and took control of the rhythm that Dean set. She started crushing her ass to Dean's cock with a destructive force. "You arrogant devil," she breathed out with a smirk mimicking Dean's attitude. Dean hissed at the sudden change in her obedient mood but he wasn't complaining of her taking control. "Fuck-" he said raspily, placing his hands on the round of her ass. "You're doing so good, sweetheart," he said as he let himself into her rhythm. His release was close but he didn't want to leave her undone. So, he let her have another minute of control before completely hovering over her, making her lay flat on her stomach. "Hey!" she cried out as Dean started placing feathery kisses on her back. "You had your fun, sweetheart," he said with a voice that made her even wetter if that was even possible.

He grabbed the back of her knee and pulled it upwards, closer to her head. "God, woman, you're flexible," he said with shock and an equal amount of adoration, looking at the sight of her folded body. One of her knees almost touched her head, the other lying flat, making easy and deep access to her depths possible. He quickly adjusted himself on her entrance and pushed in harshly, earning a loud moan of his name. "Fuck, Dean!" Sole exclaimed, her vision going blurry from the haze. She grabbed a fistful of the bedsheets, trying to ease herself. The clenching of her pussy was killing Dean slowly. Every time he pushed himself into her, she relaxed the muscles, allowing him to slide in just like that. And every time he pulled out, she contracted her muscles, creating an irresistible friction, making his insides twitch. "I am close," she said trying to get a hold of herself as she grabbed the sheets even harder. The position allowed Dean to touch the entrance of her womb, making her want to stay like that forever. Dean growled at her statement, finally allowing himself to cross over the edge too. "Cum on my cock, sweetheart. Make a mess on me," he said, his tone almost like a plea. He needed her to cum screaming his name as much as she did. She clenched her insides even harder, her legs trembling, her whole body shaking lightly as her orgasm hit her. She slowly lowered her ass so that she didn't even remember moving up on the bed and let the sheets go. At that moment of pure bliss, she felt hot ropes of Dean's cum painting her insides, making her finally loose free from Rowena's remedy. Dean dropped his body next to hers with a deep sigh of relief and contentment. "That was..." he said with a breathy tone, "amazing." She smiled at him, the energy from the remedy slowly passing through. "I know," she giggled softly, still trying to catch her breath. Her gaze slowly turned into a look of concern. "What's wrong?" Dean asked removing a stray strand from her face, his hand cupping the side of her cheek. "If you're worried about Lucifer, you know we will handle it. We always do," he said with a reassuring tone. "No," Sole said softly. "I mean, I am worried about that, too. But..." she was unable to form sentences to express how scared she was of losing him. She mentally cursed herself for not being able to resist the remedy. "Hey," Dean softly chimed, pulling her closer. "You can tell me, sweetheart, I am sure I can take it," he said with a grin, trying to ease her tension. "Was this a mistake, Dean?" she asked suddenly, looking at her bright green eyes with an unreadable expression.

"Certainly wasn't a mistake for me," he said wringing his eyebrows. "Ever since that night we met at that bar, the moment I saw you next to your Dodge Charger, I knew it was going to be incredibly hard for me to stay away from you." He admitted, lowering his gaze down to her sheet-covered body. "Would I want it to be this way? Probably not, but I don't regret it either," he shrugged his shoulders.

Dean's words hung in the air, their weight sinking into Sole like an anchor. She searched his face for any hint of doubt but found none—only sincerity in those piercing green eyes. His hand still rested against her cheek, warm and grounding, and for a moment, the chaos of her thoughts stilled.

She let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “I just... I don’t want this to complicate things. With Lucifer out there, with everything happening... I don’t want to lose focus. And I don’t want to lose you.”

Dean chuckled softly, his thumb brushing her cheek. “Sweetheart, you’re not losing me. If anything, I’m more in this fight than ever. And if I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that the universe doesn’t give a damn about timing. This? Us? It’s real, and I’m not about to let some devil-in-a-suit mess with that.”

Sole’s lips curved into a small smile despite herself. Trust Dean to simplify even the most complicated situations. “You really know how to make a girl feel better, huh?” she teased, her voice lighter now.

Dean smirked. “It’s one of my many talents.” He paused, his expression softening again. “Look, I’m not saying this is going to be easy. Hell, nothing about our lives ever is. But you're my girl, Sole. And if that means fighting off Lucifer himself to keep you safe, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Sole's breath hitched at his words. You’re my girl. Three simple words, yet they carried the weight of something she hadn’t allowed herself to believe—not until now. She felt her chest tighten, a mix of emotions swirling together: relief, fear, and something much deeper, something she hadn’t let herself name.

She smiled, a real one this time, though her eyes shimmered with a familiar mischievous spark. “Your girl, Dean Winchester? I didn't know I was your girl."

Dean tilted his head, his signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, c’mon, sweetheart. You’ve always been my girl. You just needed me to say it out loud.”

Sole raised an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. “That so? Sounds like someone’s a little too sure of himself.”

Dean leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing rumble. “Well, considering you called me up here and practically begged me to fu—”

She cut him off with a playful shove to his chest, her laughter spilling out before she could stop it. “You are impossible, you know that?”

Dean laughed with her, catching her hand and holding it against his chest. “Yeah, but you love it. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Sole pretended to mull it over, her lips pursed thoughtfully. “Mmm... I guess you’re tolerable. On occasion.”

“Tolerable?” Dean repeated, mock-offended. “Sweetheart, I’m the best damn thing that’s ever happened to you.”

She gave him a sly smile, her fingers curling slightly against his chest. “Debatable. You know a woman like me has a lot of options.” She giggled as she tried not to lose herself in those beautiful eyes.

Dean chuckled, his green eyes glinting with amusement as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Oh, I see how it is. You’re just playing hard to get now.”

Sole tilted her head, her smirk widening. “Maybe. Or maybe I just enjoy watching you work for it.”

Dean leaned in, their faces mere inches apart, his voice a low murmur. “Sweetheart, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you like giving me a hard time.”

She grinned, her tone laced with mischief. “What can I say? It’s fun watching you squirm, Winchester.”

Dean shook his head with a laugh, leaning back slightly as he watched her, his expression softening. “Yeah, well, lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere. So you’ll have plenty more chances to mess with me.”

“Good,” Sole replied, her voice quiet but firm. “Because for all your impossible charm and annoying smugness, I kind of like having you around.”

Dean’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Kind of? You’re killing me here, sweetheart.”

Sole rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her smile. “Alright, fine. Maybe I more than kind of like having you around.”

Dean grinned triumphantly, pulling her closer. “Damn right, you do.” He placed a passionate kiss to her lips, "I like... really like having you right here in my arms, too."

Their laughter filled the room, a rare moment of lightness amidst the chaos of their lives. For now, they had each other—and Lucifer was the topic of tomorrow.

•••

Tag List: @callsign-ember

[eurydicewritesfictions]

Dean Winchester and The Palladium Chapter 2: Nightmare

Hello! Its Eurydice! I am back with the second chapter of the series.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC

summary: You wake up in the middle of the night, screaming Lucifer's name. Dean and Sam walk in to protect you and Dean sleeps with you.

Word count: 4,6k

Warnings: Light Swearing | Flirting | Mentions of death | Light sexual scenes | Touching | Fluff | Mention of Weapons | Dean trying to restrain himself

A/N: I am European and a bilingual. So, sometimes I know 2 languages and sometimes I know no languages :P Sorry in advance if there are any mistakes.

Over six months with the Winchester brothers had passed. My plan to stay with them until I figured out my father's request was pretty much in the trash at this point. We’d gone on hunts together and saved each other’s lives more times than I could count in such a short amount of time. We ate together, drank together, laughed together...

I couldn’t believe how much I’d come to care about these guys in such a short period. They were practically family to me, and I felt the same way about them. Sam was like a big brother to me. He’d ask if I needed anything, we’d go jogging together, and he always made sure I was comfortable. I could tell he enjoyed playing the big brother role after being the little one for so long.

Dean, on the other hand, was something else. He definitely wasn’t acting like a brother. We shared glances, flirtatious looks, accidental touches, and some intimate moments. He made it his life’s mission to impress me with his charms, and I did my best to pretend I was unfazed. But deep down, I knew he cared about me, deeply. I could see it in his eyes, especially that one time I almost died. “You’re family now,” he had said, but I saw the fear in his eyes.

So, about my dad’s journals and his request... Back when the Palladiums were a thing, they had handled supernatural activity in Italy. Then, the members scattered around the world and formed the Men of Letters. The Italian chapter of the Men of Letters remained as the Palladiums, suggesting it was the origin of the foundation. I was trained there, as a hunter. About a year ago, we came to the US to investigate some demon activity, and that was when my father died. He had known that Sam and Dean were legacies and could help me in the business.

Now, here I was, lying in the bed in my room in the bunker, reading through my dad's journals.

He had written about almost everything: every monster he had ever faced, detailed descriptions, drawings of some of them, methods for deciphering, and even a private section about his hunts that included my progression.

"Sole was incredible tonight," he had written on one page. "The way she steered through the hunt tells me that she will do more than fine when I am not around."

I couldn’t help but let a tear slip down my cheek. I missed him every day, and knowing that he wouldn’t be back only deepened the ache in my chest. Every time I thought of him, it felt like a knife twisting in my heart.

As I sat on my bed, my back against the headboard, the silence of the room was broken by a knock at the door. Three rhythmic taps... Dean, I thought. I quickly wiped away the tear that had escaped and softly answered.

"Come in."

The door creaked open, and there stood Dean, his usual confident smirk replaced by a more somber expression. He hesitated for a moment, taking in the sight of me sitting on the bed, journals scattered around, and the faint trace of a tear still on my cheek.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress.

I gave him a quick, forced smile, trying to cover the emotions I’d just let slip. "Yeah, just… going through some old stuff."

Dean didn’t seem convinced. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him softly, his eyes never leaving mine. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Sole, I know you’re strong, but you don’t have to do this alone."

I exhaled slowly, glancing down at the journal in my lap. "It’s not about being strong," I murmured. "It’s just... sometimes it hits harder than I expect, you know?"

Dean’s gaze softened, and he pushed himself off the doorframe, moving slowly toward the bed. He stopped just a few feet away, his posture casual, but there was a genuine concern in his eyes. "If you ever need someone to talk to, if you need a drink or hell, if you just need someone to punch something, ... I’m here." His voice was low and steady, the offer sincere, though I could tell it made him a bit uncomfortable to show that level of vulnerability.

I appreciated the gesture more than I could express. The last few months with Dean and Sam had been the closest I’d felt to real family. But I also didn’t want to lean on them too much in fear of losing someone I care about... again.

"Thanks, Dean," I said softly, offering a more genuine smile this time. "It means a lot, really."

He gave a small nod, his lips curling into a grin, though it was softer than usual. "Well, you know, I do try to be a good guy now and then." He paused, then added, "I am going to make a burger, if you're hungry. And sweetheart, I make a mean burger."

I laughed, the sound lighter than it had been all night. I slipped back into my usual playful demeanour. "A burger from Dean Winchester, huh?" I raised an eyebrow. "That sounds good." I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. "Show me what you got, chef." I giggled and made my way toward the door.

As we stepped out of my room and into the main part of the bunker, I could smell the faint scent of grilling meat already wafting through the air. Once we were in the kitchen, Dean went to stand by the stove, expertly flipping patties in a cast-iron skillet, the faint sizzle making my stomach growl. He seemed completely at ease like cooking was second nature to him.

I jumped on the counter, watching him, my eyes tracing the way his arms moved as he worked. There was something undeniably captivating about him, even in such an ordinary setting as making burgers. Maybe it was the way his focus shifted between the skillet and me, or the way he moved so smoothly, as if everything he did had a certain rhythm to it.

"You really know your way around a kitchen, huh?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dean glanced over at me, a devilish grin spreading across his face. "What can I say? A man of many talents," he said, his voice playful but with an underlying confidence that only made him more irresistible.

I couldn't resist. "Hmm... I’m starting to think I might have been wrong about you. Maybe you’re not just a pretty face and a charming smile." I smirked, watching his reaction closely.

His grin widened, and he gave me a knowing look as he flipped the patties again. "Oh, sweetheart, I’ll have you know my charm is just the tip of the iceberg. You haven't even begun to see all my skills."

I raised an eyebrow, teasing him. "Is that so? I don’t know if I’m ready for the full Dean Winchester experience."

He laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a little flutter through me. "Trust me, Sole, you wouldn’t be able to handle it."

I shot him a playful smirk, leaning back on the counter with my arms carrying my torso's weight, keeping my gaze locked on him. "Oh, I think I could handle it just fine."

Dean’s eyes flashed with that familiar, cocky glint as he turned the heat down on the stove and moved toward the fridge. "We’ll see," he said, his voice dropping a little, the flirtation thick in the air between us.

I jumped off the counter and stepped closer to him, watching as he retrieved some cheese and condiments from the fridge. "You know, I’ve always been a sucker for a man who can cook." I paused, letting the words hang for a second, then added, "But you’re really pushing it with that confidence."

He shot me a sideways glance, giving me that smirk I knew so well. "Hey, confidence is key," he said, as he started assembling the burgers. "And believe me, I got plenty of it."

"Confidence, huh?" I teased, walking a little closer, resting a hand on the counter beside him. "I think it might just be your best quality."

Dean looked over at me, eyes narrowing playfully. "Careful, sweetheart. You keep talking like that, I might just get ideas."

I tilted my head, a wicked smile spreading across my face. "Oh, I’m sure you already have plenty of ideas."

His smile softened for a moment, his gaze flickering to mine with a depth that made my pulse quicken. "You’d be surprised," he said quietly, before quickly pulling himself back together and tossing me one of the finished burgers. "But you’ll get to find out soon enough."

I caught the burger in one hand, the moment between us lingering for a beat too long. "I think I’m looking forward to it," I said with a wink.

Dean’s smirk returned, and he pushed the other burger in my direction. "Well, until then, let’s enjoy the food. I promise, it’s worth the wait."

I bit into the burger, feeling the heat of the patty, the seasoning, the sauces, the cheese... "Dean..." I said softly in awe. Hearing his name from my mouth in awe made him tense in his spot. "Yes, sweetheart?" he asked, his eyes roaming my face, his gaze landing on my lips as I licked them to savour the deliciousness of the burger.

"This burger is amazing," I said, looking down at the burger on my plate.

Dean's eyes lingered on my lips for a moment before he cleared his throat and looked away, his grin returning, but there was a softness to it now. "Well, I did warn you. Told you I make a mean burger."

I chuckled, still savoring the flavors, and took another bite. "You weren't kidding," I said, shooting him a sideways glance. "Maybe you should open a restaurant or something. Call it 'Dean's Delights.'"

He leaned against the counter, folding his arms, and raised an eyebrow. "Dean's Delights, huh? I like the sound of that," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "But I think I’ll stick to hunting. Killing monsters, saving the world... it's kind of my thing."

I smirked, letting the playful banter continue. "Well, if you're ever looking for a side hustle, let me know."

Dean let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "I don’t know, sweetheart. I might need to keep you around to taste-test everything."

I raised an eyebrow. "Everything?" I teased, putting the table on the counter and leaning forward a little. "Do you mean everything?"

I could hear Dean's breath hitching. He stepped closer, reducing the distance between us dangerously. "Everything," he said, his voice dropping to that low tone, though the playful edge was still there. "But I have to warn you... I’m really good at making people want more than just food."

I leaned back slightly, crossing my arms over my chest, a playful challenge in my eyes. "Is that so, Winchester?"

His gaze flickered to mine, lingering for just a moment too long. "You’ll see," he said, his voice still laced with that underlying confidence. He was standing so close to me that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. The tension between us was palpable, but before it could go any further, Sam walked into the kitchen with a joyous spirit.

The moment he saw the tension between Dean and me, his eyes flickered with a knowing glance. His lips curled into a teasing smile, clearly picking up on what was happening between us.

Sam’s teasing smile didn’t go unnoticed. He leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed, and raised an eyebrow. "Well, well, looks like I’m interrupting something," he said, his voice light and playful, though there was an undercurrent of curiosity in his tone.

Dean immediately straightened, clearing his throat, taking a step back, and running a hand through his hair, trying to break the tension. "It’s not what it looks like, Sammy," he said quickly, though the smirk playing at the corner of his lips said otherwise.

I couldn't help but laugh at the awkwardness that instantly settled in the room. "Sure, Dean. Whatever you say," I said with a wink, turning my attention to Sam. "But if you’re looking for some dinner, you’re just in time. Your brother makes a mean burger."

Sam’s eyes shifted to Dean, his smile widening. "I’m sure he does. I mean, how could he not with all that experience in the kitchen?" Sam teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Dean shot him a glare, but it was clear he was trying to hold back a smile. "Oh, shut up, Sammy," he muttered. "You know what? You’re lucky I made a veggie burger for you, otherwise, you’d be eating rabbit food like you do every day." The way he said veggie burger like it was the most disgusting thing he has ever known, made me chuckle at the sight. Sam grabbed his plate, still grinning as he made his way to the table. "Well, if Dean made a veggie burger for me, I’m definitely not going to turn it down," he teased, taking a seat next to me.

I laughed, glancing over at Dean, who was leaning against the counter with a proud smirk. "Don’t let him fool you, Sam. He’s just upset that I’m the better cook now."

Dean shot me a quick glance, his lips curving into a grin. "You’re lucky you haven’t burned anything yet, sweetheart," he quipped with that familiar playful energy.

Sam raised an eyebrow, noticing the back-and-forth between the two of us. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he shot a knowing look between us. "You two are something else," he said, half-smiling.

I shot Sam a playful smirk. "Oh, I’m just trying to keep him in check," I said, taking a bite of my burger. "Somebody has to, right?"

Dean chuckled, his gaze flickering over to me for a moment before he glanced away, clearly a little more aware of the chemistry between us than he cared to admit. "You’re gonna be the death of me, woman," he muttered under his breath, though there was a hint of affection behind his words.

I couldn’t help but grin at that, leaning back in my chair. "Is that so?" I teased, lifting an eyebrow. "Guess I’ll just have to keep you on your toes, then."

Dean’s eyes flicked to mine for a split second, his expression softening. "You already do," he said quietly, just loud enough for me to hear. Then he cleared his throat, adding with a smirk, "But don’t let it get to your head. I know how to turn the tables to my favour."

I laughed at that, the tension between us still crackling but comfortable. Sam shook his head, clearly amused by the dynamic. "Alright, alright," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I’ll let you two duke it out, but if you want to argue over burgers, count me out."

We spent the next few minutes in easy conversation, teasing each other and swapping stories. As I stood up and stretched, my body still buzzing from the comfortable atmosphere of the night, I flashed Dean and Sam a playful grin. "I’m gonna hit the sack, but don’t go sharing any embarrassing stories without me," I warned, wagging a finger at them. "I want to be part of the fun too."

Dean shot me a smirk, his eyes still sparkling with that familiar mischievous glint. "Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll save the best ones for you," he said, his voice laced with humour.

Sam just grinned, shaking his head. "Sleep well, Sole. We'll be here when you're ready to join in the fun," he said, his voice warm and easy, a comfort I’d grown used to over the months.

With a final wink, I turned and made my way down the hallway to my room, the weight of the night’s laughter slowly beginning to fade as exhaustion took over. The bed was inviting, and as I sank into the covers, I felt the familiar sense of peace. But that peace didn’t last long.

It was only a few hours later when the darkness of my sleep turned into something far more sinister. My dreams twisted, and in the midst of them, there he was—Lucifer. His cold, twisted smile, the feeling of his presence like a weight pressing against my chest.

He was there, taunting me, his voice a sharp, mocking whisper. "You think you’re safe now? You think you’ve escaped it all? You know I will find you like I found your father." The words echoed in my mind, suffocating me, the heat of his gaze burning into me.

Suddenly, I was running, running from him, but no matter how fast I went, he was always right behind me. My legs felt like lead, my breath coming in ragged gasps, but I couldn’t stop—couldn’t escape. I could hear his laughter, twisted and cruel, as if he knew I’d never be able to outrun him.

Just as he reached out to grab me, a scream ripped from my throat, shattering the silence of the night.

I woke up in a cold sweat, my heart hammering in my chest. The nightmare lingered in the darkness, and for a few seconds, I just sat there, disoriented, trying to shake off the feeling of Lucifer’s hands on my skin. But it didn’t work. The fear still gripped me, tight and suffocating.

Before I could even try to calm myself, the door to my room burst open, and I heard the familiar voices of Sam and Dean.

"Sole!" Dean’s voice was sharp, and urgent, as he rushed to my side, his face a mix of concern and confusion, he was holding a shotgun. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Sam was right behind him, his brow furrowed with worry as he quickly took a spot at the other side of the bed. "We heard you scream. Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice soft, trying not to startle me more than I already was.

I could barely focus on their voices, the remnants of the nightmare still clouding my mind. I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. "I—I’m fine. It was just... a nightmare," I said, my voice shaky. But even as I spoke the words, I could feel the tremor in my hands, the lingering fear still choking me from the inside out. "It was... Lucifer."

Dean sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand hesitating for a moment before resting gently on my arm. "Lucifer," he murmured under his breath, his eyes scanning my face.

Sam’s gaze softened, and he reached out to gently pull the covers up around me. "We’re here, Sole. You’re safe," he said, his voice a low, soothing tone.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breath. "I know," I whispered, but the chill in my bones wouldn’t go away. The nightmare still felt so real. "We will talk about your nightmare in the morning, right now you need rest. Call us out if something happens," Sam said softly as he made his way out out the room. Dean was about to follow him but I called his name. "Dean," I said, my voice is still a little raspy from the intensity of the scream.

Dean paused at the door when he heard my voice, his hand resting on the doorframe. He turned to look at me, his expression soft but still edged with concern. "Yeah, sweetheart?" he asked quietly, stepping back into the room.

I could feel the words getting stuck in my throat, the vulnerability of the moment catching me off guard. "I just... I don’t want to be alone," I said, my voice barely a whisper, but loud enough for him to hear the honesty in it.

There was a long, silent beat as Dean studied me. His gaze was steady, thoughtful. Then, without a word, he walked back over to the bed, sitting down on the edge again.

"I’m not going anywhere," he said, his tone gentle but firm, as if he was making a promise he wasn’t about to break. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart," he said as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. "Would it be terribly inappropriate if I asked you to sleep with me tonight?" I asked as if we weren't flirting like tomorrow doesn't exist.

Dean’s expression flickered for just a moment, the usual cocky grin replaced with something more vulnerable, softer, as his hand lingered near my cheek. For a second, it seemed like he was weighing his words carefully, but his eyes stayed locked on mine, never breaking contact.

He leaned a little closer, his voice a low murmur. "Not inappropriate, no," he said, his tone dropping with the weight of unspoken understanding between us. "Just a little unexpected," he added with a wry smile.

His gaze softened, and without another word, he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his posture still casual but now with an air of protectiveness surrounding him. He didn’t make a move to get closer, leaving the space between us almost untouched.

“You sure about this?” Dean asked, his eyes searching mine, making sure I wasn’t just acting on a moment of fear or discomfort. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want. Just... tell me if you need something.”

There was no arrogance in his voice now, only the quiet sincerity that had started to surface more in the past few months.

I could tell he was taking me seriously, his guard lowered, and I felt a rush of warmth toward him. "Yeah," I said, my voice steady this time. "You couldn't do anything without getting your ass whooped anyways," I said chuckling, trying to ease the weird tension.

Without waiting for a response, I shifted over, giving him a little more room. Dean hesitated for a heartbeat before he slipped under the covers beside me, his presence comforting in the darkness of the room. "Would you like me to hug you.. or something.." he said not knowing what to do. Even though he was usually confident with his charms the way he was all tangled up in this situation made me chuckle. "Yeah, a hug would be nice," I said softly.

Dean let out a quiet sigh of relief as if the idea of offering comfort in a way that wasn’t laced with his usual flirtatious humour was somehow a challenge. He shifted closer to me, his movements slow and deliberate, making sure I was still comfortable with him being near.

Without another word, he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me gently into his side. The warmth of his body pressed against my back was a welcome contrast to the cold fear still lingering from the nightmare. It wasn’t anything more than a simple hug, but it was exactly what I needed in that moment. "This is nice," I whispered and adjusted my body against his. He let out a low growl. "I suggest you not do that," he said, his breath crashing against my ear. I could feel my blood rising up to my cheeks as I realized what I had done. I cleared my throat and tried to act like nothing happened. "Ah, sorry," I said.

Dean’s grip on me tightened just slightly, and I could feel the tension shift in the air. His voice was low, almost a purr, as he responded, “It’s fine. Just… be careful, sweetheart. You’re making it a little hard to keep things appropriate.”

I could sense the playful edge in his tone, but there was something else there too. Something that wasn’t just teasing.

I pulled back a bit, enough to give him some space, but not enough to break the closeness. My cheeks were still burning, and I suddenly found the blankets incredibly interesting as I tried to distract myself from the situation.

“I didn’t mean to... make things weird,” I said quietly, my fingers nervously adjusting the corner of the blanket.

Dean’s laugh was soft, but there was a warmth to it. “You didn’t make anything weird, sweetheart. You’re fine. Just don’t start making moves like that unless you mean it.” His voice had a teasing quality, but he also had this... affected tone.

I shifted my position, now facing him. I glanced up at him, biting my lip. "What if I do mean it?" I whispered, feeling the weight of the moment settle over us, even in the quiet of the room. His gaze darkened, almost like a forest piercing through me. "I wouldn't want you to do something you'd regret, sweetheart." He closed his eyes, deliberately not to look at me. I could feel he was restraining himself. His hand on my waist was grabbing my side, his fingers digging into my skin.

“Dean,” I said softly, my voice barely more than a whisper. Dean’s jaw tightened as he kept his eyes shut, his breathing slow and measured like he was fighting to maintain control. His fingers on my waist were firm, grounding, as if he was holding on for dear life. His eyes opened, and the intensity in them made my breath hitch. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me right now,” he said, his voice rough, like gravel under pressure.

I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest. “What if I do?"

He let out a low, frustrated groan, his hand tightening its grip on my waist. “Damn it, woman…” he muttered under his breath, his eyes flicking between my lips and my eyes. “You really don’t make anything easy, do you?” He didn't let me answer. He reached out with his hand and closed it over my eyes. "Stop looking at me like that, goddammit," he said with a hint of frustration in his tone. "Go to sleep, please?" He added, his hand still covering my eyes. "I don't want you to regret this later on."

I let out a soft laugh, despite the tension between us. “You’re impossible, you know that?” I said, my voice muffled slightly by his hand over my eyes.

“And you’re trouble,” he shot back, his tone gruff but laced with a hint of humour. “Now, be a good girl and listen for once.” His fingers were warm against my skin, the pressure just enough to keep me from looking at him, but not harsh.

“Dean,” I whispered, my voice softening. “You don’t need to protect me from myself.”

There was a beat of silence, the air between us heavy and charged. His hand lingered for a moment longer before he sighed and slowly pulled it away. “It’s not just you I’m protecting,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

I blinked up at him, my heart twisting at the vulnerability in his eyes. “Dean…”

“Just—” he cut me off, shaking his head slightly. “You mean a lot to me, Sole. I don’t want to screw this up.” His hand brushed lightly against my cheek before he pulled back, giving me a small, crooked smile. “Now, can we please just try to get some sleep? You’ve had a hell of a night.”

I nodded, though my chest still felt tight. “Alright,” I said softly, settling back against him.

“Good girl,” he murmured, sending a shiver down my spine. His arm wrapped securely around me again. “And for the record,” he added, his lips curving into a smirk I could hear in his voice, “you still drive me crazy.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that, even as my eyes drifted closed.

--- I know things are moving a little too fast but this is normally a VERY LONG story and I wanted to cut the filler scenes. I hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @callsign-ember ---

[eurydicewritesfictions]

Dean Winchester and The Palladium Chapter 1: Meeting the Winchesters

Hello! Its Eurydice! This going to be my first fanfiction ever and I am a little excited :) I must say that I have added many things to the SPN lore to make the story a little more mine. Oh, also this is going to be a series, I am planning to make around 4-5 chapters. I hope you enjoy the series!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC

summary: You meet Dean at a bar and he tries to flirt with you. Then you get acquainted. You meet with Sam and move into the Bunker. Since this is the first episode, it is mostly meeting and chatting.

Word count: 3,3k

Warnings: Light Swearing | Alcohol Consumption | Flirting | Mentions of death A/N: I am European and a bilingual. So, sometimes I know 2 languages and sometimes I know no languages :P Sorry in advance if there are any mistakes. ------------------------------------------------------------------

The bar was dimly lit, with classic rock playing softly in the background. Dean Winchester leaned against the counter, nursing a glass of whiskey and scanning the room. He was in his element—confident, charming, and ready to unwind after a rough hunt. His eyes landed on a woman sitting at the far end of the bar, her presence commanding attention without effort. Dean smirked to himself, adjusting his leather jacket before making his way over.

He approached me with a grin on his face. "Well, what do we have here? I thought I’d seen it all, but you just might be the most interesting thing in this room. Mind if I join you?"

Dean slid onto the stool next to me, his tone playful but not overbearing. He studied me closely, his sharp green eyes catching little details—the heavy boots, my confident posture. He seemed to be enjoying the way I looked.

"Name’s Dean. And you are?" he asked confidently.

I looked up at the man next to me. He had a sheepish grin on his face, clearly trying to flirt his way into my bed. But the twist was, I knew this man. In fact, I’d come here looking for him—and his brother.

“Nice to meet you, Dean. I am Sole.”

I introduced myself in a way that sent signals of my imperviousness to his charms. I'd been warned about him.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Sole, huh? Like the sun? Fits, I guess. You’ve got that... radiant thing going on."

He took a sip of his whiskey, his grin never faltering. My calm demeanor and lack of fluster seemed to throw him slightly off balance, but he played it cool.

"So, what brings you to a place like this? Don’t tell me you’re here for the ambience," he asked, leaning slightly on the counter. He chuckled, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

“Oh, you know, a girl’s gotta relax,” I said, showing him the glass of whiskey before me. “I was passing through town, thought I'd stop by.” I wanted to play with him before revealing my true purpose, and an amused smile crept onto the corner of my lips.

"Passing through, huh? So you’re not a local. I knew it—you’ve got that whole ‘mystery woman’ vibe going for you," he gestured around me. "You're a pretty thing, kinda glad that there isn't a man with you."

He leaned back slightly, resting his arm on the bar, casually trying to size me up without being too obvious. I chuckled at the sight of him trying desperately to flirt with me.

"Let me guess. You’re a big-city type, slumming it with us small-town folks for the night?" He said playfully, his eyes never leaving mine. He raised his glass and took another sip, his eyes studying me carefully.

“Hmm, something like that,” I answered with a mischievous grin and took a sip from my whiskey. His gleaming green eyes roamed all over me, inch by inch.

"Something like that, huh? C'mon sweetheart, you're givin' me nothing here," he said, a hint of frustration in his tone.

"So, what’s the deal? You passing through for work, pleasure, or... something else?" he was still going full force, trying to get me to give something away. The amused smile on my face only widened.

I looked at him, now it was my turn to inspect him. “I actually am here for you, Dean Winchester,” I said, looking at him under my lashes as I took a sip of my whiskey.

Dean paused mid-drink, his eyebrows shooting up. "Wait, what?" He put his glass down slowly, his smirk fading into something between confusion and suspicion. The fact that I knew his last name—and clearly more than I was letting on—threw him off balance. He straightened slightly in his seat, his playful demeanor shifting into something more serious.

"Alright, you’ve got me. I don’t remember introducing myself with a last name, so either you’ve got one hell of a memory, or you’ve been asking around," he said, with a careful glint in his eyes. He wasn't flirting anymore. In fact, he looked a little scared, even.

"Don't worry, I’m not a blood-sucking monster that you guys hunt," I rolled my eyes playfully. "I was told to find you. By the way, you really match the rumors," I chuckled, hinting at his flirtatious demeanor.

"Well, damn. Looks like my reputation precedes me." His smirk returned, but it was more guarded now, his eyes flickering with a mix of amusement and caution. "Tell me, what do the ladies tell about me?" he said, leaning on the counter once more.

The look I shot at him made him realize this wasn’t the time for that. He straightened back up. "Never mind that," he cleared his throat, "Why exactly are you looking for me?" He pressed his lips together and squinted his eyes.

"I am coming from the Italian chapter of Men of Letters," I said softly. The curiosity in his green eyes grew even bigger. "The origin of Men of Letters. Though back at the time, it was called The Palladiums."

"Alright," he suddenly stood up straight, "I’m taking you to Sam, he probably knows about this Palladiums crap you’re talking about." He gestured for me to follow him to the exit of the bar.

"Oh, no more flirting with the pretty thing," I said, pouting playfully. I saw his cheeks flush just a little. He shot me a glare and insisted on walking. "Alright, I’m not going to push any more buttons."

Dean just shook his head, leading the way. "You know, you're lucky I'm even taking you seriously right now, Sole." "Pfft, don't make me laugh Winchester," I said with a playful grin as I followed him out of the bar. He moved toward an Impala parked in front. "You’ve got some serious nerve, you know that?" he grinned, his tone still had some playfulness to it but he was a little more cautious toward me now. "Get in," he said, opening the car door. "Oh, I am not getting in, Dean," I said with a mischievous smile, pointing at a Dodge Charger parked next to his car. "I have my own ride," I said walking toward my boy. He watched as I confidently walked towards my car. His usual calm and confident demeanour take a backseat as he takes in the car— he definitely looked impressed. "Like what you see, huh?" I said with a cocky demeanor.

"Alright, I see how this is. I guess I’ll have to keep up, huh?" He said with a voice laced with admiration. He walked back to his Impala, giving me a teasing glance over his shoulder, but the respect in his eyes is evident. "Follow me, and try not to get lost," he said, raising an eyebrow. Then, he stepped into the car and started the engine.

The ride was smooth. He parked the Impala on the driveway, the headlights cutting through the darkness. The Bunker was an imposing structure, I looked up, down and around with curious eyes. Dean turned off the engine and stepped out of the car, his boots hitting the gravel with a purposeful thud. He gestures toward the door to the Bunker as he walks up the stairs.

"Sam’s inside. You’re gonna like him. He’s the brains of the operation." He walked inside the Bunker, his footsteps echoing through the halls as he made his way toward the library. Dean opened the door without knocking, stepping inside with a grin plastered on his face.

"Hey, Sammy. Got a visitor."

Sam looked up from a stack of research papers, his face lighting up in recognition, though there’s a flicker of curiosity in his expression as he noticed me behind Dean.

"Who’s this?" Sam asked Dean with a raised eyebrow.

Dean leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed, "This is Sole. She’s from the Italian chapter of Men of Letters. Or, as she likes to call it, The Palladiums."

Sam’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of Palladiums, a slight shift in his demeanour as the mention of the ancient organization caught his attention. Sam stood up, offering his hand "Palladiums, huh? That’s a first. Nice to meet you, Sole." He studied me carefully, trying to gauge if I was a friend or a foe. There’s a certain intensity in his eyes, the result of years spent on edge. But his warm, welcoming nature didn’t waver as he shook my hand. "You should be more like Sam," I turned to Dean with a playful smirk. "Look, he already knows the Palladiums," I giggled at his sulking face.

Dean rolled his eyes, his tone laced with mock indignation, "Yeah, yeah. Sam’s the nerdy one, we get it. I’m the fun one, remember?"

He pushed off the doorframe and walked further into the room, flopping into one of the library chairs with a huff. His green eyes flick between me and Sam, clearly unimpressed with the alliance forming between us.

Sam smirked at Dean before turning back to me, "The Palladiums… It’s not something we’ve come across in a long time. They were like the Men of Letters, but way older, right? More focused on ancient lore and rituals." Sam leaned against the table, clearly intrigued by my presence. His genuine curiosity was softening the tension in the room. "You must have a ton of stories. Why don’t you sit down and tell us what brought you here? I mean, the Italian chapter doesn’t usually send someone all the way to Kansas."

"Yeah, and while you’re at it, you can explain why you had to throw in a dig about me." Dean chimed in with a seductive smirk. "First, not everything is about you Dean," I said with a smirk. "I did a research on both of you. I know that you have been to hell and back, and I know Sammy here went out crazy on demon blood." I said raising an eyebrow. "Second, the reason I am here," I said and paused for a moment. This wasn't easy for me to say and I was afraid it won't ever be. "I lost my father a couple months ago. And he told me to find you before he passed," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. There was a sinking silence that disturbed me a little. "You may speak now... please?" Dean's playful smirk faded instantly, his voice softening "Damn… I’m sorry, sweetheart. Losing family—" He hesitated, running a hand over his jaw, his usual bravado replaced with genuine sympathy. "I know how much that can mess with you."

His green eyes met mine briefly, the weight of shared pain evident in his expression. Dean leaned forward in his chair, his arms resting on his knees, searching for the right words.

"Your father told you to find us? Did he say why? Was he… part of the Palladiums too?" Sam asked with a gentle tone, concern etched into his features. "We were both Palladiums," I said looking at the table with an empty gaze. "And I don't know why but he said you could help me," I fiddled with my fingers on the table.

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, both brothers clearly trying to piece together the connection.

"Look, I get it—you’ve been through a lot. But if your dad pointed you our way, there’s gotta be a reason. Did he, uh… leave you anything? A journal, notes, maybe?" Dean asked trying to lighten the mood but still serious. He gestured vaguely, his usual confidence returning in small doses as he switched to problem-solving mode. Sam, meanwhile, watched me closely, his empathetic nature shining through as he waited for me to respond. "He kept journals, yes," I said looking up to meet his gaze. "I actually brought everything from our house, they're in the Charger," I said vaguely pointing towards the whereabouts of my car.

"Smart move. Never know what’s gonna be useful." Dean stood up and straightened up, gesturing toward the bunker entrance. "Let’s get your stuff inside. Sam’s got a thing for sorting through journals and dusty old books."

"It’s called research, Dean. You should try it sometime." Sam said with a small, amused smile.

"Yeah, yeah. Nerd stuff. Let’s just get the gear before the Charger starts attracting unwanted attention." Dean replied rolling his eyes. "Wait a minute," I said with a confused look. "We literally just met, and this hunk of a man is talking about getting my stuff inside." I said vaguely gesturing around. "Are you guys out of your minds?"

Dean stopped mid-step, eyebrows shooting up, "Whoa, pump the brakes there, sunshine. You’re the one who said your dad told you to find us. Thought that meant you were, y’know, sticking around for a bit."

"Dean’s not exactly known for subtlety. But you’re right—it’s a lot to take in. If you’re not comfortable, we can figure out something else." Sam said holding back a chuckle, glancing between us.

"I am not uncomfortable. I mean I could take you guys easy if you ever tried something but... Are you comfortable? A gal coming in..? I don't want to disturb your manly peace." I said chucking at the sight of two brothers looking at me all sassy.

"Manly peace? Sweetheart, if you think this place is some kind of frat house, you’ve got the wrong idea. Besides, we’ve handled plenty worse than a ‘gal coming in.’" Dean winked at me, clearly amused. "Plus, it’ll be nice to have someone around who might actually clean up after herself for a change. God knows you don’t." He glanced at Sam, the teasing expression on his face remained.

"Right, because leaving your beer bottles everywhere screams ‘manly peace.’" Sam replied rolling his eyes. The playful back and forth between the brothers was amusing to me that I could help but let out a heartfelt laughter.

"Alright alright, I agree to stay for a while but only if you dorks promise to be this entertaining all the time." I tried catching my breath from the laughter.

"Entertaining? Sweetheart, we’re just getting started. Stick around, and you’ll see what real charm looks like." He winks, leaning back against the table, his flirtatious demeanour returning.

"Dean, please stop flirting with our guest," Sam said running his hand through his hair with a resigned face. "I am sure Dean's charms will keep you around, Sole." He said letting out a deep sigh.

"Hey, what am I supposed to do with my dazzling personality?" He said, striking a subtle pose.

The banter continued, lighthearted and easy, the brothers' chemistry adding warmth to the situation. It was clear that despite the sharp edges of their lives, they find moments like this to lean on each other—and now, maybe, on me too.

"Alright, Sole, deal’s a deal. You stay, we keep the entertainment coming. But fair warning—you might end up laughing so much you can’t leave." Dean shots me a cheeky grin, his green eyes glinting with mischief.

"And if that doesn’t work, we’ll just bribe you with pie. It works on Dean every time." Sam added with a chuckled.

Dean glared at sam pointing a finger at him, "Hey, that’s classified information!"

***

We headed out to the driveway, the cool night air brushing against our skin. The Impala gleamed under the faint moonlight, parked beside my sleek black Dodge Charger. Dean whistled low, his appreciation for the car evident as he ran his hand lightly along its hood.

"Still can’t believe you’re rolling around in this beauty. Guess we’re kind of soulmates—car-wise, at least." Dean's eyes gleamed at me. "It is a little early for that kind of commitment, don't you think Dean?" I asked with a playful manner, trying to tease him. He opened his mouth to say something but he stuck to looking into my eyes with an unreadable way.

"Yeah, Dean’s just jealous it has better mileage than the Impala." Sam chimed in breaking the eye contact that Dean had on me.

"Watch it, Sammy. The Impala’s got soul, she's my Baby, and that’s priceless." With a playful shake of his head, Dean opened the trunk of the Charger, revealing a collection of duffel bags, a few rugged cases, and a leather-bound box that looked older than any of them.

"Damn, you pack like a hunter alright. Got a mini arsenal in here?" Dean asked with a surprised expression on his face. "Careful, Dean. Don’t underestimate her. She’s already warned us she can take us both down if she wanted to." Sam said looking at me over his shoulder. I was just standing next to them, waiting for them to unload the trunk.

"Fair point. Alright, let’s get this inside before the neighbours think we’re gearing up for a war." Dean chuckled, still looking at the trunk all impressed.

The brothers worked together to haul everything back to the bunker. Dean took the heaviest cases with a smug look, Sam balanced two duffel bags on one shoulder, and I carried the leather box and another bag, insisting I wasn’t going to let them do everything.

Once inside, the stuff was piled neatly in the corner of the library. Dean plopped one case down with a dramatic groan, stretching his arms.

"Man, you travel heavy. What’ve you got in here—bricks?" Dean groaned. "Are you tired already?" I asked with a sweet, teasing tone. "I wonder how will you keep up with me," I sent him a playful wink, matching his attitude toward me. I knew it had only been a couple of hours since we met but I already felt a little attracted to this man.

"Nope, just about every tool and weapon a hunter could need. Holy water, silver stakes, rock salt ammo—she’s definitely prepared." Sam said putting the bags down.

Dean knelt beside the leather-bound box, his curiosity piqued. He ran his fingers over its surface, noting the intricate carvings. "What’s in this thing? Looks like it’s straight outta Raiders of the Lost Ark."

I stayed silent, watching as Dean carefully unlatched the box and flipped it open. Inside were journals, some bound in worn leather and others neatly packed with yellowing pages. Drawings, old maps, and what looked like ancient sigils peeked out from between the covers.

"These must be your father’s journals. They’re incredible. The detail, the history—it’s like stepping into another time." Sam looked at the things inside the boxes with awe. He took one in his hands and investigated each side like it belonged to a museum.

"Yeah. This is the kind of stuff you don’t see every day. He must’ve been one hell of a hunter." Dean said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The room fell into a moment of silence, an unspoken understanding passing between the three of us. This was more than just gear—it was a legacy, a connection to the past that carried weight and meaning. "Yeah, he was," I said, my voice barely audible.

"Alright, enough with the heavy stuff. Who’s hungry? I’m thinking we celebrate your fancy new digs with some burgers and pie." Dean chimed in breaking the tension. His lips crowned into a smile as he mentioned food.

"You mean your celebration meal. But sure, food sounds good." Sam said, rolling his eyes but smiling.

"Damn right it does. Sole, you’re about to experience the best feast of your life." With a chuckle, the brothers headed toward the kitchen, the weight of the night’s revelations giving way to the easy camaraderie of new alliances. I looked behind them for a while, surprised at myself for trusting these dorks almost right away. Well, I guess they deserve it, I thought to myself and catched up with them, joining their laughter.