#I don't care about the Winchesters either if it gets can for good or is renewed

[magnificent-winged-beast]

not jensen qrt jp and liking his tweet about saving windy but ignoring all of misha's posts regarding that matter. why is he always catering to jp? i don't fucking get it. 🙄

Anything about the Tall one, I don't care at all and try to stay away from him and his fanbase. So no drama here.

[fatecantstopme]

Changed

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: Enemies to lovers…the three times you and Dean/Sam work together and the final time when everything changes

Warnings: canon violence, cursing, use of pet names, body shaming, mentions of injuries and wound care. SMUT, face sitting, oral (F receiving) unprotected sex (P in V).

A/N: y'all I'm sorry, but I made Dean a total asshole for the beginning part of this. I had to for the storyline...don't hate me, it's got a GREAT ending.

You'd been hunting for close to five years when you first met Sam and Dean Winchester. The three of you happened to be working the same case in a small town in Ohio.

You and Sam hit it off instantly, but Dean was much more closed off and stand-offish. In fact, he was down-right rude most of the time. He made it very clear he didn't like you, nor did he want your help with the case.

Sam tried to get Dean to be a little more friendly, but it didn't matter what he did, Dean was not a fan of you and he showed it.

"If this wasn't an entire nest of vampires, I would be absolutely fine walking away from this," you said to Dean. "But I'm not about to let the two of you go in there alone."

"We don't need your help," Dean snapped.

"Well you've got it, so suck it up."

Sam stepped in. "Why don't we all just calm down."

"Shut up, Sam!" you and Dean yelled at the same time.

Sam threw up his hands and stepped back. He didn't wanna argue with either of you.

"I don't need help from some geek who probably can't even fight," Dean hissed.

"What's that supposed to mean? I'm a damn good fighter, Winchester," you growled.

Dean looked you up and down with disdain. It was very clear where his brain went and you did not appreciate his assumptions. Maybe you didn't really look like a traditional hunter, but you were good at it.

"No offense, (Y/N), but you don't exactly inspire confidence in your fighting abilities."

You took a deep breath and tried not to lash out. "You're an asshole, Dean Winchester, and honestly I don't care what happens to you, but your brother is a good person. You might both be amazing hunters, but I'm not letting Sam go in there without more than just you for backup."

Sam cut in before Dean could respond. "I agree with (Y/N), Dean. She's coming with us."

Dean shot his brother a dark glare, but Sam didn't back down. "You know what? Fine. If she dies, it's her fault."

"Fine with me," you snapped back at him.

Dean stomped out of the motel room, leaving you and Sam alone.

"I'm sorry about him," Sam said softly. "He's been different since Dad died."

You shook your head. "Don't apologize for him, Sam. I'm just worried his head isn't in the game and it's gonna get you killed."

Sam sighed. "I know. I'm worried about him too."

You let out a long sigh. "The only thing we can do is hope we all make it out of this alive."

Sam nodded his agreement. "Let's go before he gets even more annoyed."

You grabbed your gear and headed out the door after Sam.

As you'd predicted, clearing out the vampire nest required all three of you. By the time the last vamp fell to the ground--headless--you had more than proven yourself. Or at least, that's what you thought.

Sam, ever the gentleman, was extremely grateful for your help. "We couldn't have done it without you," he commented.

You were about to reply when Dean let out a rude scoff. You turned your attention to him with narrowed eyes. "Got something you wanna say, Winchester?"

He glared at you. "We would have been just fine without you."

"You know what? Screw you. If you wanna make terrible decisions that might get you killed, go for it, but don't drag your brother down with you."

Dean looked like he wanted to say more, but you'd stormed off in the direction of your car. You wanted to get back to the motel, shower, and go to bed. You needed to be on the road in the morning--on your way to another case.

Once you were out of earshot, Sam snapped at his brother. "Dude, what the hell has gotten into you?"

"What? You got the hots for the fat chick?"

"Don't talk about her like that, it's incredibly demeaning. Besides, she more than proved herself tonight."

"Whatever. Let's just get the hell out of here."

The next morning, you said your goodbyes to Sam, offering him your assistance in the future should he ever need it. You didn't bother to address Dean, knowing it was unlikely he would even respond.

Once you hit the highway, your mind began to focus on your next case--leaving the Winchester boys far behind.

**********

It had been close to 6 months since the hunt with Sam and Dean, and you were surprised to get a call from Sam requesting your assistance on another case.

"We think it's demonic omens," Sam explained.

You sighed. "How bad we talking?"

"We're not sure, but we could really use your help."

"Did you clear it with your brother?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line that told you everything you needed to know.

"Sam..."

"Look, I didn't say anything to him, but even he admitted we needed to call for help."

You sighed again, running your fingers through your hair. "Fine, but only because you asked."

"Thank you, (Y/N). I really appreciate it."

You hung up the phone and packed your bag to head to the middle of nowhere Oklahoma.

You didn't often meet people you didn't get along with, but Dean Winchester was certainly one of those people. You hated him and he quite obviously hated you. You weren't sure what it was about you he disliked so much, but you didn't appreciate the way he treated you.

There was something in the way he looked at you--disdain or disgust, you weren't sure, but you'd seen it in other men's eyes. You knew what it was...it was a judgment you'd seen a thousand times before. You'd struggled with your weight your whole life and some men (and women too) had the tendency to judge you based on your physical appearance.

It didn't help that you were a woman in a very male-dominated job. Male hunters had the tendency to judge you with a single look. It didn't matter that you were smart and capable--that you were a great hunter in your own right. All they saw was the outside and that was all they needed to decide what you could do--what you were capable of.

Unfortunately, Dean Winchester was apparently one of those hunters. Sam clearly saw there was more to you than appearances and you appreciated being given the benefit of the doubt. Sam had given you the chance to prove yourself and you'd done so, but that didn't seem to change Dean's perception of you.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt more because of who he was. Dean Winchester was a well-known figure in the hunting community, as were his father and brother. You knew he was a truly amazing hunter and part of you craved his approval. There was also something to be said about the way he looked...the man was gorgeous in an almost offensive way. You couldn't stop yourself from noticing, but you were painfully aware he did not find you attractive. As stupid as it might sound, his disdain hurt you deeply.

You sighed as you stared out the windshield at the road ahead of you. You didn't want to focus on the negative, especially when you were on your way to face what appeared to be several demons. You needed to be on your A-game...you'd be damned if you let yourself get distracted by a mere man.

Several hours later, you pulled into the parking lot of the motel the Winchesters were staying at. You went up to the motel room door and knocked, sending up a silent prayer that Sam would be the one to answer the door.

Someone must have been looking down on you favorably, because moments later, the door swung open to reveal Sam Winchester. "Thanks for coming, (Y/N)."

You smiled at him. "Of course. You call, I come."

Sam gestured for you to come in. "Dean's out getting food."

"Oh." You didn't know what else to say--part of you wished he was here so you could just get it over with, but another part of you was glad to prolong the inevitable for a little while.

"He'll be back soon," Sam said lamely.

"Okay. Should I get a room then?"

Sam shook his head. "You can have my bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"That's absurd, you're significantly taller than me. I'll take the couch or get my own room."

"There are no more rooms," Sam said with a shrug. "So take the bed, please. I'll feel like an asshole if you sleep on the couch."

You chuckled lightly and tossed your bag onto the bed nearest the door. "Alright, fine. I wouldn't want to offend your gentlemanly sensibilities," you teased.

He smiled, but before he could respond, the door swung open and the elder Winchester walked through carrying a bag of diner food.

You swallowed thickly, hoping he wouldn't have anything nasty to say right away.

Unfortunately, it seemed your luck had run out. "What's she doing here?" Dean asked in annoyance.

"She's here to help," Sam answered.

Dean threw the bag of food on the table. "I'm sorry--when I told you to call for backup, this is who you called?"

"She was available and she's more than capable," Sam argued.

"I don't give a damn. You should have called someone else. She'll get herself killed--or one of us."

"She has a name," you snapped. "And she's right here."

Dean turned his attention to you and you could see the fiery anger in his gaze. You didn't understand what about you made him so angry, but he certainly didn't give you a chance to ask.

"Have you ever even faced a demon, (Y/N)?" The way he emphasized your name was dripping with condescension.

"Actually, I have. More than once."

A flash of surprise crossed his face, but was gone quickly. "How many people died when you did?"

"One," you answered, trying to keep your voice level. "The innocent woman some demon scum was wearing."

"Were you alone?"

"Every time."

If you'd expected Dean to be impressed, you'd have been sorely mistaken. "This will be a hundred times worse. Half this town is demon-infested and countless people will die. Can you handle that?"

"It's the job," you answered as calmly as you could.

Dean regarded you quietly for a moment, before seeming to accept your answer. "Don't get us killed." He turned away from you and sat down at the table to eat his dinner, ignoring you once more.

You glanced over at Sam who looked extremely uncomfortable, but he didn't comment on anything that had been said. Instead he asked his brother if he'd gotten enough food to share with you too.

Before you were able to say you'd already eaten dinner, Dean made an offhand comment that struck a nerve.

"I don't think we have enough food for her even if you and I don't eat."

Sam gasped. "Dean!"

You froze for a moment, tears pressing against your eyes, but you didn't dare shed them. You pushed your emotions down and took a deep breath. "I actually already ate."

"Thank god," Dean mumbled.

"That's it!" you snapped. "What the hell is your problem with me, Winchester?"

He looked up at you with an annoyed glare. "I don't like you and I don't trust you."

"I don't care for you either, but that doesn't mean you have to treat me like shit. I haven't insulted you a single time, but you've managed to insult me several times from the moment we met. Either shut the hell up or I'll be forced to fight fire with fire."

He raised a single eyebrow at you, but he didn't say a single word. You were surprised at his silence, but you were done with the conversation. "I'm going to shower."

As soon as the bathroom door closed, Sam threw a wrapper at Dean. "What the hell, man?"

Dean shrugged. "What? I don't like her."

"What the hell did she ever do to you?"

"She didn't have to do anything. I just don't like her."

"Fine, but don't treat her like that," Sam requested. "She doesn't deserve your animosity...and you're better than this."

Dean didn't comment one way or the other, his silence signaling the end of the conversation.

"That was incredibly stupid of you!" Dean yelled.

"Oh fuck off, Winchester!" you yelled back. "You'd be dead if I hadn't!"

"I didn't ask you to save me!"

The argument was a waste of breath, but Dean didn't want to let it go and neither did you. You'd saved Dean's life during a fight with a demon and it put your own life at great risk.

"A simple 'thank you' would suffice," you growled.

"You could have gotten Sammy killed, you idiot! He had to save your stupid ass because you wanted to play the hero!"

"Dean, that's not--" Sam began.

"Why can't you just be thankful you're not dead?!" you snapped. "And neither is your brother, for that matter!"

Dean's eyes were filled with a rage so dark it frightened you. "I don't understand how you've managed to survive this long on your own, but I doubt it'll last much longer if you keep pulling stupid stunts like that."

You'd managed to regain control of your temper, so you bit your lip to keep from yelling at him again. "You know what? I'm done. Don't ask for my help again."

"(Y/N) wait--" Sam called.

"No, Sam. I'm done. I can't put up with his attitude and you know what? I don't have to. Please don't call me again unless you're hunting alone."

You walked away from both men, fully expecting to never see either one of them again.

**********

Fate, of course, had other plans. One year later, almost to the day, you saved Sam Winchester's life...

You'd been working a case in a small town in Texas and you'd heard rumblings of a missing FBI agent who had been doing research in the town a couple days before you'd arrived.

You knew it was unlikely a real FBI agent had been conducting an investigation here...the events that had led you here clearly indicated the presence of a witch--a damn powerful one at that. As such, it was clear to you a hunter pretending to be FBI had been on the case before you.

You quickly put the pieces together and realized the witch you were hunting had likely kidnapped the other hunter and was doing god only knows what to him.

The more people you talked to, the more certain you were that the missing hunter/FBI agent was none other than Sam Winchester. All of the descriptions people gave you sounded exactly like him.

You tried calling his cell phone several times, but he didn't answer. You didn't want to place the next call, but you didn't see another option. You pressed his name in the phone and put it to your ear.

"Why are you calling me?" Dean's voice asked from the other end of the line.

"Do you know where your brother is?"

"I haven't spoken to him in a while."

"So that's a no?"

You heard him swear under his breath. "Why does it matter, (Y/N)?" he snapped.

"I'm hunting a witch that I think your brother was also hunting. He's missing."

"What do you mean, missing?"

"I mean no one in town has seen him in two days."

Dean was silent for a moment. "Where are you?"

"Lockhart, Texas."

"I'll be there by tomorrow morning."

He hung up without saying anything else, leaving you alone with your worry.

You knew you didn't have time to wait for Dean's arrival. You needed to find Sam...witches were no joke. You'd never forgive yourself if he died because you waited.

You started diving into your research, trying to identify the witch. This is what you were good at, but the added pressure of finding Sam clouded your brain.

You took a deep breath and tried to clear your head. You needed to focus--Sam needed you.

You turned your attention back to your work and noticed you had more clarity. Before you knew it, four hours had passed. You felt like you were no closer to finding this witch than you had been that morning.

You were about ready to give up for a while when you noticed something you'd missed before. You started flipping through the pages you had on the table in front of you and gasped softly. "Her," you mumbled, underlining the name on the page.

You quickly looked up the woman's address and within minutes, you were rushing out the door, on your way to--hopefully--save your friend.

When you pulled up in front of the house, every instinct you had told you you were in the right place. You couldn't explain why, but you just knew this was it.

You double checked your weapons before getting out of the car and making your way around the back of the house as quickly and quietly as possible.

You manage to get into the house without notifying the occupant and began creeping your way through the house, checking each room for signs of Sam or the witch.

You knew there was no basement in the house--Texas homes don't have basements--so there were a limited number of places Sam could be.

You'd cleared the first floor and slowly made your way up to the second floor. As you neared the first room, you heard two voices talking from farther down the hallway.

You immediately made your way towards the voices, moving slowly so as to not make any sound. As you got closer, you heard a female voice followed by a male voice you instantly recognized--Sam.

You continued on quietly until you reached the door. You listened closely, trying to make out what was being said.

"All you have to do," the female voice said, "is tell me who else you're working with."

"I told you," Sam's voice said angrily, "I'm working alone."

"Then why is there a woman looking for you?"

"A woman?" Sam's voice was laced with confusion.

"She's been asking around town about you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Sam cried out in pain and you nearly barged through the door on instinct. You controlled yourself, continuing to remain motionless while listening.

"Samuel...stop lying to me. Who is the woman?"

"I don't know," he insisted before crying out in pain again.

After a few moments, Sam spoke again, slightly breathless. "Look, if you're gonna kill me, just do it. I have nothing more to say to you."

The witch laughed darkly. "Perhaps you're right. You're of no use to me anymore."

Sam yelled in pain and you knew it was time to act. You swung the door open and entered the room with your gun pointed ahead of you. Your eyes quickly scanned the room, landing on Sam, who was sitting in the center of the room, arms tied to a chair. Your gaze next landed on the witch who was in the middle of chanting some sort of spell.

It took you less than a second to decide what to do, and that second was all you needed. You pulled the trigger and watched the bullet strike the witch's chest. She looked shocked, eyes locked on your face as she fell to her knees. Her gaze never left you as she took her final breath, now nothing but an empty vessel on the floor.

You ran over to Sam, taking in his injuries quickly. Seeing nothing of immediate concern you started to cut his bindings.

"(Y/N)?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Hunting a witch, obviously."

He chuckled lightly. "But how did you find me?"

"A little bit of skill and a whole lot of luck."

"Somehow I doubt that," he said softly.

Your eyes met his as you cut the final rope. You offered him a small smile, but remained silent.

"Seriously, (Y/N). Thank you."

You shrugged. "You would have done the same for me."

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again after last time," he admitted.

"Honestly, I didn't either," you whispered. "But when I realized you were here, I knew I couldn't leave you. I, uh--I called Dean."

Sam's eyes widened in shock. "You did what?!"

"I was worried about you and you weren't answering your phone, so I called him. I hoped he'd know where you were."

Sam sighed. "We actually haven't been hunting together for a while."

You nodded. "He mentioned that...but he's--um, well he's on his way."

"Great," he mumbled. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"I'm sorry," you said softly. "I didn't know."

"It's fine, (Y/N). You didn't know."

Unsurprisingly, Sam was staying at the same motel as you, so you drove him back. Once you arrived, you helped him out of his shirt and began to clean his wounds. Several of them were deep enough to require stitches, but there didn't appear to be anything life threatening.

"You're very lucky," you muttered.

Sam grabbed your hand, stopping you in the middle of a stitch. "It wasn't luck, (Y/N/N). You saved my life."

You sighed quietly and continued sewing his skin back together.

"I'm serious. I owe you my life."

"You don't owe me anything."

"I do. I guess both of us do now."

"What?"

"You saved Dean's life last year. He might have behaved like an ass, but he owes you his life as much as I owe you mine."

You finished the stitch and moved on to the next cut. "We're hunters, Sam. It's what we do."

"Doesn't mean I'm not grateful."

You offered him a soft smile. "Well then, you're welcome."

After about 30 minutes of constant wound care, you'd managed to clean and stitch up all his cuts. He'd been awake for almost 2 days at this point and just wanted a shower and some sleep.

He agreed to take a shower while you ran out and got some food that you practically forced him to eat before he collapsed on the bed, sound asleep within seconds.

You ate your dinner quietly, watching the large man sleep. You were incredibly glad you'd managed to save him--it would have haunted you forever if you'd been too late.

Eventually, you crawled into the other bed and passed out, forgetting for a moment that Dean Winchester was still on his way to Lockhart in search of his brother.

Early the next morning, you were awoken by loud, insistent knocking on the motel door. You dragged yourself out of bed, muttering under your breath as you made your way over to the door.

"Calm down, I'm coming," you hissed quietly. You looked through the peep hole and saw a slightly disheveled Dean Winchester standing on the other side.

You opened the door and he practically ran into the room, eyes searching the space for his brother. His gaze finally landed on Sam's sleeping form and his whole body instantly relaxed. Sam was peacefully still--exhaustion keeping him asleep.

You walked over to Dean and tentatively touched his arm to jostle him out of his trance. "He's alright," you murmured.

Dean shook his head to clear it and turned to you. "What?"

"Sam's okay," you repeated. "Just some cuts and bruises, but he'll live."

"What happened?"

You explained what had happened and how you'd identified the witch and found Sam.

"You saved his life," Dean whispered.

"He would have done the same for me."

"Still...you didn't have to, but you did it anyway. Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me."

"Yeah," Dean mumbled. "I do."

You were both silent for a moment before Dean continued talking.

"Sam and I--well, we haven't been talking lately. I--I would have been devastated if something happened to him before I could apologize. I was mad and stupid and I said things I didn't mean...but he's still my brother. I can't lose him."

For the first time since you met him, you saw something more to Dean Winchester--something beneath the facade. It was obvious he truly loved his brother and in this moment he was showing a rare piece of humanity that shocked you. Maybe beneath the gruff, rude exterior, there was something genuinely good.

"Why don't you get some sleep," you said softly. "I'm sure you're tired from your drive and Sam will want to see you in the morning."

Dean turned his gaze back to you. "Thanks...I--uh, I am kinda tired." His face told you he wanted to say more, but he couldn't find the words.

Your expression softened. "I'll take the couch. Don't worry about it."

He shook his head immediately. "No, go back to sleep. I'll take the couch."

You decided not to argue, instead crawling into bed and falling asleep quickly. Something about Dean's presence made you feel safe.

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of voices in the room. As you oriented yourself, you realized it was Sam and Dean talking quietly across the room. You remained quiet and still, ears listening to the discussion.

It was clear they'd been talking for a while and the conversation had turned to the current situation.

"I can't believe she saved you," Dean whispered.

"Neither can I, to be honest. I don't even know how she found me. She said it was mostly luck."

"A year ago, I would have agreed with that," Dean stated. "But now? She's saved both of our lives--I have to admit she's a damn good hunter."

A small smile played on your lips and you were glad they couldn't see your face from their angle.

"That's a lot coming from you," Sam said in surprise. "What changed?"

"Honestly? Me," Dean answered. "A lot has happened in the last 6 months Sammy. I've taken the time away to really get my shit together. I was just so damn empty and I was taking it out on everyone, including you. But I've said some terrible things to (Y/N) and I don't know how to apologize. Hell, I don't even know if she'd want me to apologize. I treated her terribly and I wouldn't be surprised if she hated me."

"I'm pretty sure she does," Sam said softly. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't apologize or you can't fix it. You owe her your life as much as I do...that should mean something."

"I know," Dean admitted. "I've been such an asshole to her. I don't even think I deserve her forgiveness."

"It's worth a shot, Dean."

You couldn't see Dean's face, but you could hear the emotion in his voice. It made you think he truly meant what he was saying. Before this moment, you wouldn't have even considered listening to a word this man had to say to you...but now you felt like you owed it to him--or maybe yourself--to hear him out, should he choose to apologize.

You'd gotten out of bed not long after overhearing Sam and Dean's conversation. After a nice shower, you were getting your things together to head back out onto the road--onto your next hunt.

"I'm gonna grab some breakfast," Sam called out. "You guys want me to bring you something?"

"Coffee and a breakfast sandwich, please," you said in response.

"Coffee and an absurd amount of bacon," Dean added.

Sam groaned. "You are so gonna have a heart attack."

"I'm not gonna live long enough for that, Sammy, so don't worry about me. Bacon is worth it."

You chuckled softly and Dean shot you a look. When he noticed the soft smirk on your face, he smiled in return. "I think (Y/N) agrees."

Sam sighed. "Whatever--I'll be back in a while."

You waved at Sam's back before returning your attention to your duffle. You threw your last couple items into it before zipping it up.

"So..." Dean said awkwardly from behind you.

You sighed heavily before turning to face him. "Yes?"

"I...I, um--fuck," he muttered. "I owe you an apology."

You folded your arms across your chest. "Go on."

You'd never seen him look so uncomfortable and a part of you was happy about it. You felt bad for feeling that way, but after everything Dean had said and done to you since you'd met, he more than deserved it.

"I've been a major asshole."

You nodded your agreement.

He had the grace to look embarrassed. "I've said some truly horrible things to you and uh--about you. Things I never should have thought, let alone said aloud."

He fell silent and waited for a moment as if he was hoping you would disagree.

"Is that all?"

He exhaled slowly. "Look, you saved my life and I treated you like shit--then you go and save my brother's life even after everything I've done."

"I didn't do it for you."

"No--no, I know. I just...I suck at apologies."

You chuckled lightly. "A bit, yeah."

"What I'm trying to say is--I was wrong. I was wrong about everything. I was wrong to treat you the way I did and I'm so fucking sorry, (Y/N). I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry I was such an asshole. I don't have a good excuse--I was broken and hurting and I chose to take it out on everyone around me. I'm not trying to excuse what I did--I just want you to know that I'm not usually like that. I've spent the last year trying to find myself again and I'm closer than I've ever been. But, umm that's not the point--it's not about me. I--fuck--I'm just so goddamn sorry, (Y/N)."

You offered him a small smile. "I genuinely appreciate your apology, Winchester. Especially because I can see how difficult it was for you to do it."

He looked relieved. "I'm not good at this sort of thing."

"It's okay. You got your point across."

"Oh, one more thing."

"Hmm?"

"You're a damn good hunter."

You smiled genuinely for the first time and Dean couldn't help but notice how it lit up your whole face. Your smile was contagious--and he found himself returning the expression.

Before you could thank him, Sam came back with breakfast.

"Am I interrupting?" Sam asked.

"No, we're good," Dean answered.

Sam looked at you and you nodded. He looked relieved, but he didn't comment on the situation.

Dean's stomach grumbled and he reached for the bag of takeout. "Let's eat."

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Sam asked.

You shook your head. "I appreciate the offer, but I think you guys need some time alone. Rekindle your relationship, mend fences, etc."

Sam nodded. "Alright, but please call us if you need anything--and I mean anything."

He wrapped you in a hug, which you happily returned. "You know I will."

He stepped back and headed out to the car, leaving you and Dean alone.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye for now," Dean said.

You turned to him with a smile. "I guess it is."

You stuck your hand out and Dean shook it tentatively.

"We're not at the hugging stage yet, Winchester," you said lightly.

He chuckled softly. "I've gotta earn that?"

"Oh yeah," you teased.

Dean grinned, liking the teasing tone in your voice. "I'll work on it. Stay safe, (Y/N)...call us if you need anything."

You nodded. "Same to you. Keep Sammy safe, okay?"

"I always will."

**********

You dragged yourself across the floor of the old, dirty warehouse, pain radiating through most of your body. You heard the footsteps of the creature you'd been hunting as it crossed the room towards you. You could see your cellphone lying several yards away, your gun not far from it. You knew this was it--you were gonna die.

You were breathing heavily, the pain almost unbearable. You didn't want to die, but you knew you wouldn't be able to reach your gun in time.

The creature took another step towards you and growled lowly. You looked up at it and resigned yourself to death.

"Hey, ugly!" a man's voice yelled from behind the creature.

The creature turned in the direction of the voice and a gunshot rang out. The creature cried out in pain and dropped to the ground dead about a foot from you.

You released the breath you'd been holding, the sharp exhale making your ribs ache. You heard footsteps rushing towards you and what you saw made you smile a little.

"(Y/N)!" Sam yelled as he dropped to the ground beside you. "You okay?"

Dean was right behind him, coming to a stop on the other side of your body. You could see the concern in both of their faces as their eyes scanned your body, looking for serious injuries.

"Hey guys," you said softly. "I'm alright."

"Can you stand?" Sam asked.

You nodded and the boys started to help you up. You groaned in pain, exhaling slowly to try and ease it.

"Easy," Dean said softly. "I've got you."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't comment. He just continued to help you until you were standing up fully. Dean's arm slipped around your waist and pulled you against his side, holding you upright.

"Lean on me, okay? I've got you." He turned to his brother. "You handle the monster, I'll get (Y/N) to the car."

Dean moved slowly, allowing you to lean into him as you limped beside him. "You alright, (Y/N)?" he asked softly.

"That damn thing beat the hell outta me...definitely some bruised ribs, pretty sure I sprained my ankle, and I've got some pretty deep gashes on my back and hip. Otherwise though, I'm peachy."

Dean chuckled softly. "Tough as nails, this one."

"Minus the whole 'almost died' thing."

"Hey, don't worry about that. Happens to the best of us."

"I've noticed," you said lightly.

He laughed. "Rude."

"Seriously, though, thanks for saving my ass."

"My pleasure, (Y/N). Besides, I owed you."

You whimpered slightly when Dean shifted to help you as you approached the stairway.

"Shit, (Y/N), sorry. You okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied through gritted teeth.

"Liar," he mumbled. "Hold still."

You did as he asked, watching in confusion as he took a step away from you, sliding his left arm under your legs and scooping you up into his arms.

You gasped in pain and surprise. "What are you doing?!"

"Sorry if that hurt you, but this will be a hell of a lot easier--and less painful for you."

"You are not carrying me down the stairs, Winchester," you hissed.

"You gonna stop me?" he asked harshly. When you were silent, he smirked smugly. "Didn't think so."

You held on tightly as Dean carried you down the stairs with shocking ease. You knew you weren't light and it surprised you he was able to carry you without issue.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, you stirred against him. "You can put me down now."

"Not happening. I'll put you down when we get to the car."

You stared at him in shock. The man in front of you was so different from the man you'd met almost three years prior. Hell, he was even different from the man who'd apologized to you 8 months ago.

"You've changed," you whispered.

He glanced at your face, cheeks tinged pink. "For the better, I hope."

You smiled warmly. "Definitely."

Dean had driven you back to the motel, leaving Sam to bring your car back. Instead of taking you to your room, Dean brought you to his and Sam's to get you cleaned up and to check your wounds.

"Alright let me see your back," Dean said gently.

You shifted to lift the back of your shirt up, allowing Dean to see the claw marks on your lower back.

"Shit, those are deep," he muttered. "You're gonna need stitches."

"Great."

"I've got everything we need." He got up and grabbed his kit, pulling out the supplies he needed to stitch you up. "So I need unhindered access to your back."

You looked up at him, unsure of what he was saying.

He bit his lip and shifted his weight. "I, uh...I need you to take your shirt off."

Your eyes widened. "Absolutely not."

"I'm not trying to make it weird, but I need both hands to stitch, so I can't hold your shirt up too."

There was zero chance of you taking off your shirt in front of Dean fucking Winchester. Absolutely not. No way in hell. He looked like that and you...well you didn't like anyone to see you without a shirt off.

"How 'bout I lay down on my stomach and pull my shirt up so it's out of the way?"

He sighed. "Fine, it's a reasonable compromise."

You nodded gratefully and laid down on your stomach, but the moment you did, you cried out in pain and rolled onto your side.

Dean was beside you in an instant. "What's wrong?"

"Ribs," you muttered.

"Shit..." he paused for a moment. "(Y/N) please let me help you."

You looked up at him, tears filling your eyes--a mixture of pain and embarrassment.

"Hey," he said softly. "You're okay. I know it's not fun, but I need to get you stitched up before the cuts get infected."

You bit your lip and nodded. "Will you turn around until I'm ready?"

Dean offered you a soft smile. "Of course." He turned around and waited for you to tell him you were ready.

You moved slowly, lifting your shirt off over your head, inhaling sharply at the painful movements. A whimper left your lips, the pain forcing the sound out.

It took all of Dean's self-control to not turn around when he heard your soft whimper, but he'd promised to wait.

You balled your shirt up in front of you, using it to hide your stomach and as much of your chest as you could. "Okay," you whispered.

Dean turned around slowly, keeping his gaze on your face. He was very tempted to look down, but he knew it would be unwelcome. He settled onto the bed behind you and began to clean your wounds.

You hissed at the contact, wincing away from him.

"Sorry, sweetheart."

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head--shock settling into your bones at the sound of the pet name.

You tried to remain still as he continued cleaning, despite the pain that was radiating through your body.

"Alright, they're clean," Dean said gently. "Time for the stitches."

You tensed up as he gently placed his calloused hand against your skin.

"Just relax, okay? I've got you."

You did your best to relax and Dean started to stitch your skin back together. About halfway through, Sam arrived back at the motel.

"Yikes," Sam said when he saw the deep gashes on your back. "Those look gnarly."

"Yeah, it's not great," you muttered.

"Sorry, (Y/N/N)," Sam commented. "I brought your car back though." He held up the keys with an awkward smile.

"Thanks, Sam."

"Sammy, why don't you go round us up some food?" Dean requested.

Sam raised his eyebrows as he looked between you and Dean. "Alright, sure. What do you want?"

"Burgers and pie," Dean said immediately.

"(Y/N)?"

"Yeah, sounds good," you answered.

"Alright, I'll be back." Sam grabbed the Impala keys off the table and headed back out.

"You still with me, sweetheart?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, voice laced with pain and discomfort.

"I'll be done soon enough," Dean said gently. "Then onto the ones on your hip."

"Fuck," you muttered. You'd almost forgotten about the deep cuts on your hip, but the pain started back up at the mention of them.

"I'm going as quickly as I can without giving you some seriously hideous scars," Dean whispered.

You smiled a little at the sweetness of his words. "Thanks," you murmured.

Dean found himself fighting the urge to place a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder. He wanted to provide you comfort, but instead he was actively causing you pain--and he hated it.

After several more minutes of silence, Dean finished his last stitch. "All done."

You sighed gratefully. "Thank God."

"Actually, it's just Dean," he quipped lightly.

You laughed warmly, but the action hurt your ribs, causing a soft groan of pain.

"While I liked hearing you laugh, I'd rather not cause you more pain than I have to."

"Then don't make me laugh, Winchester," you teased.

He grinned. "I'm just naturally hilarious."

You chuckled again, trying to suppress the sound to prevent any pain.

"Alright, lose the pants."

"Excuse me?"

"I've gotta get to your hip somehow, sweetheart," he stated.

You groaned softly. The last thing you wanted to do was be essentially naked in front of him. "Fine, but I'm putting my shirt back on."

"Absolutely not. That thing is dirty and ruined. You're not putting it anywhere near those cuts." He started rummaging through his bag and he pulled out a flannel shirt. "Here, put this on."

You looked at him in disbelief. "I don't think I'm going to fit into your shirt."

He looked confused. "Of course you will. Just put it on."

You took the shirt from him, still convinced there was no way it would fit you. He was a large man, but you had a very full chest and soft stomach...you were used to not fitting into a man's clothing.

"Turn around," you whispered.

Dean sighed softly, but he turned around to give you the privacy you'd requested.

You pulled yourself up with a groan, tossing your dirty shirt onto the floor. You slowly pulled the flannel shirt on over your arms and nearly gasped in surprise when you realized that not only did the shirt fit you, but it was a little big on you. You buttoned the shirt quickly, feeling more than a little pleased at the way it fit. Plus, you couldn't help but notice the shirt smelled like Dean--like soap, leather, and a little bit of whiskey.

"Can I turn around now?"

"Oh...yeah."

He turned around and felt a tightening in his chest as he took in the image of you in his shirt. He didn't know he'd feel this way when he'd given you the shirt to wear, but damn--he couldn't help but notice how sexy you looked in his clothing.

"Told you it would fit," he said with a smirk. "Even looks big on you."

You blushed. "So you were right one time."

He laughed. "I promise it won't be the last."

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile remained on your lips.

"Now the pants."

"I am not taking off my pants, Winchester."

"How am I supposed to clean your wounds through your pants?"

You groaned. "God, this is embarrassing," you muttered.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart. I'm just trying to help."

You groaned a second time. "Fine," you grumbled.

Dean bit his lip and looked away. He needed you to stop making those damn sounds or he was going to lose his mind.

You looked up at him warily, making sure his gaze remained averted from you. You removed your pants as quickly as you could without causing yourself more pain. A few moments later, you were standing there in nothing but your underwear and Dean's shirt. Thankfully, the shirt was long enough that it covered you both in the front and back.

"You good?" he asked softly.

"Yeah...where--where do you want me?"

Dean groaned softly, desperately trying to keep his thoughts to himself. He didn't think you'd appreciate hearing where he really wanted you.

He kept his eyes trained on your face. "Lay down on your side so I can see your hip."

You swallowed thickly, feeling the change in the air of the room. You slowly lowered yourself onto the bed, shifting to lay on your side.

Dean grabbed a pillow. "Lift your head for me." You did as he asked and he slipped the pillow under your head to make it more comfortable for you.

He climbed onto the bed behind you and exhaled slowly, trying to keep his shit together. You looked gorgeous in his shirt, round ass barely peeking out from beneath it. He felt the strong urge to smack it, but he had a feeling you'd knock him out if he did.

"Damn," he whispered as he looked at the deep claw marks on your hip. "I think these are worse."

"Yeah, they don't feel great," you muttered softly.

"I'll try to be gentle."

Dean began to clean the wounds, sadness lacing its icy tendrils around his heart every time he heard you make a pained sound.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N/N)," he whispered.

"It's fine," you ground out. "Wait, did you just call me (Y/N/N)?"

He winced slightly. "I--uh--I did. Is that okay?"

You were quiet for a moment as you contemplated it. "Yeah...yeah it's okay."

He exhaled gratefully. He hadn't meant to call you a nickname--it had just kinda slipped out. He was glad it didn't upset you.

Dean had just started the stitches when Sam came back with food.

"Woah," Sam said as he caught a glimpse of the two of you on the bed--and you without pants.

"I'm stitching the wounds on her hip, you idiot," Dean said sharply.

"Oh--wait, why is she wearing your shirt?"

"Because hers was dirty, Samuel. Any more questions?"

Sam threw his hands up in defeat. "My bad--my bad."

"You better have brought me pie," Dean grumbled.

"I didn't forget the pie," Sam said in annoyance.

Your stomach suddenly grumbled loudly. "Apparently I'm starving," you said lightly.

"As soon as I'm done with the stitches, we can eat."

Sam held a container of fries out to you. "Want some?"

"Oh thank God," you muttered as you took the container from him.

"Quit moving," Dean admonished.

"Sorry," you said sheepishly. "Fry?"

He glanced at your extended hand and simply opened his mouth. You looked at him in confusion and he nodded to his hands. "I can't exactly grab it."

"Oh, right." You took a fry out of the container and held it out to him. He leaned forward and took the fry from your hand, a soft moan of enjoyment escaping his lips.

You felt a warmth spread through your lower body and your breathing became a little more labored. You swallowed thickly and averted your gaze, unable to look at him without blushing.

You continued eating your fries quietly as Dean finished stitching the cuts.

"All....done," Dean said softly as he finished the final stitch.

"Thank you," you said softly. You started to try and sit up and Dean grabbed you to help. "You're not gonna let me put my pants on, are you?"

Dean grinned ear to ear. "I mean, I do like you like this, but I'll let you put on pants--if you insist."

Your eyes widened slightly and you blushed deeply.

"But not your pants, of course," Dean said with a smirk. He dug into his bag again, producing a pair of well-worn sweats. "Here you go, sweetheart."

"Just because your shirt fits, doesn't mean your pants will."

He looked you up and down slowly. "Oh they'll fit, they'll just be a little long."

Sam looked back and forth between the two of you for a few moments. "Am I missing something here?"

"Nope," you both answered.

"Okaaaay..."

You leaned down to start pulling the sweatpants on and as you tugged them up your thighs, you realized Dean was once again correct. The damn things were gonna be loose.

You stood up slowly and pulled them up the rest of the way, tugging on the string to tighten them enough so they wouldn't sag. You looked down at your feet and chuckled at the fabric pooling around your feet.

"Need some help?" Dean asked lightly.

"Could you maybe roll up the bottoms? I don't wanna fall on my face."

He grinned. "It would be my pleasure."

He dropped to his knees in front of you, earning a gasp of surprise from you. He slowly rolled up one pant leg, looked up at you with a little smirk, then rolled up the second pant leg. He looked back up at you with the same expression on his face. "Better?"

You didn't trust your voice, so you simply nodded.

He pulled himself up, suddenly towering over you again. Your knees felt weak--and it had nothing to do with your injuries.

"Uhhh...dinner is getting cold..." Sam muttered awkwardly.

"Mhmm," Dean hummed, gaze still fixed on your face.

"We should probably eat," you whispered.

Dean's tongue slipped out of his mouth, wetting his lips. His gaze was almost hungry as he regarded you, a soft smirk gracing his handsome face. "I am quite hungry," he murmured. "Very, very hungry."

You felt your pulse quicken and your lips parted slightly. The way he was looking at you made you think he wasn't referring to a hunger for burgers or pie...but you knew that couldn't be possible. Dean Winchester didn't want you--not like that.

You took control of the situation, stepping around Dean to limp towards the table. Dean quickly slipped an arm around your waist to help you.

"I'm alright, Dean."

"I'm not letting you fall and worsen your injuries."

You smiled up at him as he guided you to a chair and gently lowered you into it. He sat down in the chair beside yours and grabbed a burger for each of you out of the bag.

Sam had already eaten his dinner, so he was just watching the interactions between you and Dean. It was obvious he was confused, and to be honest, so were you.

Last time you'd talked to Dean, he'd apologized for being a massive asshole, but this transition was completely unexpected. You didn't know how to address it, or frankly, how to feel about it.

Instead, you decided to ask a question that had been tickling the back of your mind. "So...how did you guys find me?"

"Oh, that was all Dean," Sam admitted.

"Well you're the one who identified this case," Dean said with a shrug.

"Yeah, but you figured out where the monster was taking its victims--and then we saw your car."

"When we got inside the warehouse, I heard you yell in pain and I just--well, I just took off," Dean said.

You looked at both of them with a warm expression. "Well, thanks for saving me."

"You already thanked me," Dean said softly. "Besides, we both owed you our lives."

"He's not wrong," Sam added.

"Well, I'm thankful either way."

"You're welcome, (Y/N/N)," Dean said with a warm smile.

Sam gave his brother a weird look before looking back at you. "You're welcome."

The three of you continued to eat your dinner in relative silence, Sam or Dean occasionally chatting with each other while you looked on.

You watched Dean quietly, really taking him in for the first time. He was so incredibly beautiful--almost painfully so. His eyes were so kind, so much kinder than they'd been when you'd met. More importantly, he seemed lighter--more whole, than before.

You felt a stirring in your chest as you gazed at him, hating yourself for it. You shouldn't have any feelings for him--you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself in that position and you certainly didn't want to be another notch on Dean Winchester's bedpost.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Dean asked softly, shaking you from your thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"You were staring at the side of my head," he said lightly.

"Oh, sorry. I completely zoned out."

"Don't worry about it. You're allowed."

The smile you gave him quickly turned into a yawn. "I suddenly got really tired. I think I'll go back to my room to sleep."

Dean practically jumped out of his chair. "I'll take you."

You gave him an odd look. "I think I can manage to limp my way three doors down."

"Well, I'd feel better if I went with you."

Your expression softened. "Alright, alright. Lemme get my shoes on."

Dean grabbed your boots and sat them in front of you, but when you bent down to get them on, you gasped as pain radiated from your bruised ribs.

"Here, let me help," Dean said gently.

You gladly accepted his help, allowing him to get your boots on both feet. He helped you out of your chair and Sam stood up as well. He hugged you gently, which you returned in kind.

"I'm glad you're okay," Sam whispered into your hair.

"Thanks, Sammy," you murmured.

He stepped back and gave his brother a look you couldn't decipher. "I'm gonna shower and then hit the hay."

"Sounds good. I'll be back in a bit," Dean said before taking your hand and helping you towards the door.

Once you were outside, Dean was instantly more protective of you. Either he was worried about you falling on the hard cement or something attacking you. Whichever one it was, his protectiveness warmed your heart.

"Want me to carry you again?" Dean teased lightly.

You smacked his arm affectionately. "I can walk on my own, Winchester. Slowly..."

He grinned. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."

"So about that...since when do you call me sweetheart?"

"Since today, I guess," Dean muttered.

"A pet name and a nickname in the same day...interesting."

"Interesting good or interesting bad?"

You looked up at him. "I haven't decided yet."

"Fair enough."

"This is it," you said as you stopped in front of your motel room. "Thanks for walking me over."

Dean gave you an odd look. "I'm not leaving you at the door, (Y/N)."

You chuckled. "I didn't wanna assume."

You unlocked the door and Dean helped you in. "Lemme check the room, okay?"

You watched Dean walk around the room, checking the closet and the bathroom for anything that might want to hurt you. Finding nothing, he came back into the room, much more relaxed than before.

"So no monsters in the closet?" you teased.

He smiled. "You're safe."

"I already felt safe," you said softly.

"Oh?"

You blushed and looked at the floor, a little embarrassed that those words had left your lips.

Dean crossed the space between you and slid a hand under your chin, lifting it gently to meet his gaze. "Are you saying I make you feel safe?"

His voice was soft and affectionate--it put you at ease. "Yes," you whispered honestly.

Dean smiled warmly. "That's the best thing you could ever say to me."

"Easy to please, I see," you joked lightly, trying to keep your cool.

"Not usually, but you seem to be an exception to the rule."

The way he was looking at you sent a warm feeling through your body and you felt heat pooling in your lower belly. His hand was still on your chin, but you wanted to feel it everywhere.

His thumb began to gently brush against your skin, hand sliding up to your cheek. You leaned into it and your eyelids fluttered closed for a moment. You felt dean's thumb brush gently against your lower lip and you inhaled sharply, eyes opening to meet his fiery gaze.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

You desperately wanted to say yes, everything in you was screaming to say yes...but you couldn't. You needed to know what his intentions were.

"What do you want from me?" you whispered.

He looked taken aback. "I thought that was obvious."

You took a step back and his hand dropped from your face. "I know your reputation...I don't wanna be just another one night stand or some story you tell the boys around the campfire."

He looked hurt--almost as if you'd slapped him. But he seemed to realize you were right...he did have a reputation. "I know it's hard to trust me...I haven't been good to you in the past, but this isn't some one night stand, pity sex thing. I want you. I want this."

"This?" you whispered.

"You're so damn strong, (Y/N). You're smart and funny, you're an amazing hunter and an even better woman. You're brave and selfless and so incredibly loyal. I'm sorry I didn't see it when we first met, but I see it now. I can see what Sam saw in you when we first met. I've spent the last 8 months thinking about you constantly. I want something real with you, (Y/N). It scares the hell out of me, but I need you in my life...if you'll have me."

You listened to his words and you heard the emotion in them. You could feel how much he cared about you--how deeply he meant what he was saying. "I never thought you'd want someone like me."

He looked confused. "Do you mean perfect? Because that's what you are to me."

You gasped softly. "What?"

"You're not a perfect person--none of us are, but you're perfect for me."

"Have you lost your mind? Any recent head injuries?"

Dean laughed lightly. "Nothing like that, baby. I want this--it's real for me."

"Why me?" you said so softly he almost didn't hear you.

"I think I just explained that, sweetheart," he said gently.

You gestured to your body as you said, "But I look like this--and you...you look like that."

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Don't you dare talk badly about your body, baby. Don't you dare."

Tears stung your eyes and you sniffled softly.

"Look at me sweetness," he said softly, taking your face in his hands. "I know I said some terrible things when we first met--some of them about your body. I said it because I knew it would hurt you--I could tell you had some insecurities and I played on them. I feel terrible for it--fucking awful. But I didn't really mean it, baby. I just wanted to hurt you. Please forgive me--please believe me."

The tears streamed down your face and he gently wiped them away.

"It's okay, beautiful. Talk to me."

You sniffed softly. "I forgive you, Dean...and I believe you."

He smiled warmly as he continued to wipe your tears. He stepped a little closer and placed soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and finally, your lips.

You leaned into the kiss, returning the affection in kind. When his lips left yours, he brushed the last tears from your face. "You wanna go to bed now, sweetheart?" he asked softly.

You smiled and shook your head. "I wanna get in bed, but I'm not feeling as tired now."

Dean smirked and his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him as gently as he could. "Oh really? And what would you like to do in bed?"

"I have a feeling you have some ideas."

"Oh baby, I have a lot of ideas...but you've been through a lot today. I don't wanna hurt you."

"I guess you'll just have to be really gentle," you whispered against his lips.

He groaned softly. "I can be gentle...I can be so fucking gentle."

You giggled softly and he smiled, pressing his lips against yours.

"I wanna manhandle the shit outta you just to prove to you that I can...but that'll have to wait until you've healed. For now, I want you to do exactly what I tell you to--and stop me if it hurts too much, okay?"

You nodded.

"Baby, I'm gonna need you to use those words."

"Yes, Dean," you murmured.

He pressed his body up against yours again and you could feel his erection against your abdomen. "You know, I just thought of something..."

"What's that?"

"I think that's the second time you've ever called me by my name."

"What? No--can't be."

"The first time was when you forgave me and then you just said it now...but you usually just call me 'Winchester'."

You thought about it for a moment and realized he was right. "I kinda like saying your name...Dean."

He groaned softly. "I fucking love it, baby. I'm gonna make you scream my name, pretty girl."

"We'll see," you teased.

"Is that a challenge?"

You grinned. "One hundred percent."

"Oh you are in for it now, gorgeous."

You laughed as he pressed his lips against yours before trailing kisses down your neck. He nipped at your pulse point and you moaned softly, earning a grunt of approval from Dean.

"Now remember," he murmured against your skin. "You promised to do what I tell you to, but if you wanna stop, just tell me, okay? I won't do anything you don't wanna do."

You sighed softly. "I trust you, Dean."

"Good," he whispered. "Now take off your clothes."

You gasped in surprise, but quickly started to unbutton your shirt. When it came time to take it off completely, you froze, the familiar discomfort sinking into your mind.

"Hey," he said gently. "Take off whatever you're comfortable with, sweetheart, but I want you to remember that I think you're sexy as hell, okay?"

You nodded and took a deep breath before sliding your shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes roamed your torso appreciatively.

"Can I take off your bra?" he asked softly.

"Yes."

He unhooked your bra with one hand, and gently pulled it forward, exposing your ample breasts to his hungry eyes. "Fuck..." he whispered.

You felt the strong urge to cover up, but you kept your arms at your sides, allowing Dean to take in every inch of skin he could see.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, (Y/N)."

You whimpered softly as his lips latched onto your nipple, one hand at the small of your back to hold you up and the other massaging your breast gently.

Your hands tentatively rested on Dean's shoulders, and you could feel the taunt muscles shift beneath his shirt. You desperately wanted to feel his skin against yours, so you curled your fingers into his shirt and tugged on it gently.

He released your nipple and looked up at you. "What is it, baby? What do you need?"

You bit your lip and shifted slightly. "I wanna feel your skin."

He chuckled softly. "Like this?" he asked as he ran his hands slowly down your sides.

You shook your head and reached for the hem of his shirt. As soon as your hand managed to touch it, he understood what you were asking. He stepped back and yanked his shirt off over his head.

As much as you wanted to feel his body against yours, you stopped him when he leaned back towards you. He looked a little saddened, misunderstanding your movement.

"I'm trying to appreciate perfection," you said softly.

He smiled and puffed out his chest slightly. "You're the perfect one, baby."

You looked up at him with a smile. "Take me to bed, Mr. Winchester."

He chuckled. "Yes ma'am."

He guided you over to the bed and he sat down on the edge, pulling you down with him. You straddled his lap and ground yourself down against his very prominent bulge.

You gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the soft sounds you made. He grabbed ahold of your hips, careful to avoid the wounds on your left one.

"I think you should lose the pants, baby--underwear too."

You pulled yourself off of him, stepping back to slowly peel off your pants and underwear. Your hands were shaking slightly, nervous about being completely naked in front of him. When you stood back up, you found Dean's gaze glued to your body, eyes tracing every inch of you he could see.

He reached out to touch you, but you took a step back, making him look up at you in surprise.

You smirked slightly, feeling emboldened by the obvious desire in his eyes.

"Baby..." he said softly. "Come here."

You shook your head. "Not until you're naked too."

He raised an eyebrow at you, but a small smirk danced across his lips. He liked your commanding voice--he was almost surprised by how much it turned him on.

He stood up, eyes never leaving your face. He slowly took off his jeans, stepping forward to get out of them. He hooked his fingers into his boxers and lowered them slowly, keeping eye contact with you the entire time.

You inhaled sharply as you took in his size--much larger than you were accustomed to. Your eyes flicked back up to his and his smirk had widened slightly.

"Like what you see, pretty girl?"

"Very much, but I'm a little...concerned."

"About what?"

You looked down at his cock and back up at his face. "You're a little...large."

He laughed softly. "I'll be gentle."

"I'm more concerned about it not fitting."

He grinned. "That should not make me feel so good," he chuckled. "It'll fit, sweetheart. You'll see."

"I trust you."

He smiled and took a step towards you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer. He kissed you softly, hands roaming your skin, loving the feeling of your softness. "Fuck, baby--I wanna taste you. I need to."

You gasped softly as two of his fingers gently swiped between your pussy lips, collecting some of your slick. He brought the fingers to his mouth and sucked on them, a soft moan slipping from his lips.

"You taste delicious, sweetness. I want more."

He pulled you down onto the bed with him, tugging your body on top of him. You kissed him passionately, as you ground your hips against his cock.

He groaned into your mouth and his hands traveled up your back, massaging soft circles into your skin.

"Come up here, baby," he begged.

You pulled back, staring at him in confusion. "I don't understand."

He gently caressed your thighs. "I wanna taste you--come sit on my face."

"Do you have a death wish?"

He looked surprised. "What?"

"I'll smother you, Dean."

He rolled his eyes. "Then I'll die an extremely happy man. Suffocate me between those thick, sexy thighs, baby."

Your eyes widened, but you were more than a little intrigued by the concept. You'd never been asked to sit on anyone's face before and you'd certainly never suggested it. You had to admit, you'd always wanted to try it.

"Are you sure?"

"Fuck yeah, babe."

"Okay," you agreed softly.

Dean gently guided you towards his face, helping you straddle his head. His left hand gripped your right hip and he laid his right hand on your left thigh.

"Put my hand above your cuts so I can hold onto you," he requested softly.

You took his right hand and placed it just above the deep gashes on your left hip.

"Good girl," Dean praised. "Now have a seat and let me feast on you."

You lowered yourself onto his mouth, but didn't quite sit down. Instead of admonishing you, Dean dug his fingers into your flesh and tugged you down firmly.

You cried out in a mixture of surprise and pleasure as his tongue slipped through your folds. Dean groaned loudly as he began to devour you.

You had never in your life felt pleasure like Dean was giving you in this moment. The sounds that his ministrations pulled from your lips were absolutely sinful. Your legs had already begun to shake and you were gripping the headboard like your life depended on it.

"Dean, I'm so close," you gasped.

He moaned into your core and his fingers dug further into your flesh, blunt nails scraping against your skin. He didn't stop his actions--the desire to feel you cum outweighing his need to breathe.

Within moments, you cried out as your orgasm washed over you, your thighs squeezing his head tightly. Dean continued working you through your orgasm until you started to squirm away from him. He finally let you go and you leaned back onto his chest as you tried to catch your breath.

Dean moved you as gently as he could, shifting you to straddle his hips as he pulled himself into a sitting position, feet planted firmly on the floor beside the bed. He pulled you against his chest and brushed his fingers through your hair.

"You okay, baby?" he asked softly, lips pressed to your forehead.

"More than okay," you mumbled into his chest.

He chuckled softly as he held you against him, loving the feeling of your softness beneath his fingers.

After a few more moments, you sat up and bit your lip. "Dean?"

He smiled at you. "Hmm?"

"I want you to fuck me."

His eyes widened slightly and he shifted his hips under you, brushing his cock against your core. "I'm happy to oblige," he teased softly.

You sighed as he kissed you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned into the kiss and his hands slid down your body, lifting you slightly so he could line himself up with your entrance.

"Are you sure you wanna do it in this position?" you asked quietly.

"It's the only position where I can pleasure you, hold you close, and avoid hurting you. So yeah, baby, I'm sure."

You looked into his beautiful green eyes and smiled warmly. You could feel how much he cared about you and it warmed your soul.

"You ready?" he whispered.

"I'm ready."

He held his cock firmly, letting you take the lead as you slowly lowered yourself down onto him. By the time you'd lowered yourself completely, you were both breathless.

The stretch was incredible--unlike anything you'd ever experienced. You swore you could feel him in your lower belly--you'd never felt so full.

Dean leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as he let you adjust to his size.

"You can move now," you whispered.

"Just one moment, sweetheart, I--I need a moment."

"Are you okay?"

He looked up at your pretty face and smiled. "I'm fucking phenomenal, babe...but your pussy feels so goddamn incredible, so tight and warm--I just need a second to control myself."

You blushed at his praise, warmth rushing through your body at his words. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then his jaw, before finding the sweet spot on his neck that made him moan.

His hands dug into your flesh as he started to roll his hips against yours. You gasped softly against his skin, pleasure washing over you.

"Hold onto me, sweetheart," Dean murmured softly.

You did as he asked, clinging tightly to his shoulders and tightening your thighs against his.

Dean wrapped his arms around you, careful not to hold you too tightly or touch your stitched wounds. He pressed his lips softly against your collarbone as he rolled his hips again.

He gave you less than a second to get comfortable before he began to thrust up into you in earnest. His feet were planted firmly on the floor, allowing him to piston up into you.

"Dean!" you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.

Each thrust was calculated and hard, making your body shiver with pleasure. He shifted slightly, pulling you more firmly into his chest, which changed the angle of his thrusts. The new angle allowed him to hit your g-spot with each thrust.

You moaned loudly and dug your nails more firmly into his shoulders and back.

"There it is," Dean murmured against your soft skin. "Feels so good, baby."

"Don't stop," you pleaded.

"I have no intention to."

His thrusts sped up to an almost shocking speed and your whole body vibrated with pleasure. You could feel your orgasm quickly approaching, but you couldn't voice it. The pleasure overwhelmed your mind--rendering you speechless.

"You close baby? I can feel you squeezing me."

In response, you nipped at his shoulder and moaned into his skin.

He chuckled lightly. "That's it, pretty girl. I want you to cum for me--wanna feel you cum all over my cock."

You whimpered softly, "Please."

"I've got you, baby. Let go for me."

Your legs had begun to shake and you cried out in pleasure as your orgasm slammed into you with surprising force. You called his name as he worked you through it, thrusts beginning to falter as he chased his own high.

"I'm close, baby," he whispered against your throat.

You used what strength you had left to clamp down onto his cock, squeezing him as tightly as you could.

"Oh--fuck," Dean gasped. He began to cum inside you, coating your walls with his seed. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder to keep himself from crying out at the intensity of his orgasm.

You relaxed your body against him as his thrusts slowed to a stop, forehead resting against his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath.

Dean's arms were still wrapped around you, holding you close to him as he came down from his high. He placed soft open mouthed kisses to your skin and whispered sweet nothings.

Dean began to shift his body as his member softened inside you. You whimpered softly, body too sensitive for any kind of movement.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You okay?"

You nodded. "I'm okay, just a little sore."

He grinned wolfishly. "That makes me feel good."

You laughed softly and smacked his arm affectionately. "It's a little bit of you and a little of that whole monster fight from earlier."

He made a pouty face, which only made you laugh more. The increased laughter hurt your sore ribs and you winced at the pain.

"Shit, sorry sweetheart."

"Not your fault."

He brushed your hair back from your face so he could look at you better. "You look so sexy right now, baby."

You blushed. "I look like I had the shit beat out of me."

"Nah, you look like you just got well and properly fucked," he teased.

You chuckled slightly. "It was quite nice, I must say."

He grinned. "Just you wait until you're all healed up--I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't be able to walk straight for days."

You gasped. "Oh my."

He licked his lips and kissed you softly. "I could kiss you all night long."

"As much as I would love that, I think we should take a shower. I'm exhausted."

"Alright, pretty girl." Dean stood up, still holding you. You wrapped your legs around his waist to avoid falling to the ground. "I've got you, (Y/N/N)."

You looked down at him. "I know."

He smiled and kissed you gently. "Shower, then bed."

"Yes, sir."

"Oo," he said happily. "I like that."

You grinned. "I'll keep that in mind for later."

Dean grinned back at you. "You're gonna be in for a wild ride, sweetness."

"Is that a promise?"

"Absolutely."

After your shower, Dean carried you back to your bed and laid you down gently. He crawled into the bed beside you and pulled you close so your head was resting on his chest.

He kissed the top of your head and ran his fingers up and down your arm. "I want you to come with us," he said suddenly.

"What?" you asked in surprise as you looked up at him.

"I want you to come hunt with Sam and I...permanently."

"Are you--are you sure?"

"I told you this was real for me, baby. I want to try this with you, and that means you should be with me. I mean--if you want."

You smiled at him and touched his cheek gently. "I would love to go with you."

He grinned happily and kissed you sweetly. "Excellent. I'm sure Sam won't mind."

"As long as we get our own room, I'm sure he won't," you teased.

He laughed. "Oh yeah, we're gonna need that."

You smiled and kissed his chest softly. You yawned and curled further into him, exhaustion finally weighing you down.

"Go to sleep baby. I'll be right here when you wake up," Dean whispered.

You fell fast asleep in Dean's arms and he watched you for a while before sleep finally came to him. He hadn't felt so full and happy in a long time and it was one hundred percent because of you. He felt honored you were willing to give a relationship with him a chance, despite everything that had happened between the two of you in the past. He was determined to do everything he could to make sure you never regretted that decision.

Buy Me a Coffee 💜

[tofics]

The Other Side to The Coin

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Part 2 to Almost Like You Need Someone (Dean's POV)

Summary: You, Dean and Sam are fighting America's monsters together. Coming from a long line of hunters, you fit right in with the Winchester boys, despite having been raised entirely different from the two. Where you were brought up with love and care, John raised Sam and Dean with rules and obedience. Seeing what Dean does for the world, you decide it's time that he gets his own share of love...

A/N: Almost Like You Need Someone was supposed to be a one-shot but was so well received that I decided to continue it! There will be a part 3, which both part 1 and 2 are leading up to. A ✨finale✨, if you will. For now, here's the reader's POV, sprinkled with Sam's POV. I hope you enjoy! PS: Thank you to @deans-spinster-witch for the idea of Sam deliberately losing to Dean so Dean could share the bed with the reader 🥰

Living with the Winchester boys is easy.

Granted, you get along with almost anybody due to your good-natured spirit. You have a smile that radiates warmth and kindness, a two-lipped greeting that promises the receiver that they are truly welcome. In return, you've been welcomed pretty much anywhere you went.

So it's no surprise that you've bonded with Sam and Dean as easily as you have. You knew of them only by name before you went on a case with them. Despite being a long-time friend to your family and theirs, Bobby Singer didn't speak much about the Winchesters. Two boys raised on the road by a single dad, out for revenge on the demon that took his wife and their mother. That's all you knew.

When he sent you to help out with a case, you arrived with no expectations. "I told 'em not to underestimate you. Don't let those two idjits undersell you. They do good work, but they can be a lil' wary of strangers," Bobby had warned you, but they'd given you no trouble. To your delight, the brothers were not only easy to work with, they were also very easy on the eyes. Not a requirement when it came to who you chose to work with, but it didn't hurt either.

Three months later, you've become a regular passenger in the Winchester's Impala. Despite being an able-driver, you tend to leave the driving to the boys, preferring to take up residence in the backseat. Back there, you're free to pass the hours by entertaining the brothers or getting some shut-eye. It beats fighting with Dean over who gets to pick the music or having Sam snore in your ear from behind you.

You're good to them, and they're good to you. No matter how many times you argue that if you can sleep in the backseat of the Impala, you can definitely take the sofa now and then, they refuse to let you sleep anywhere but the beds of the hotel rooms you secure for a night or two. It would be patronizing if you didn't know any better. You have your love-languages, and they have theirs.

One of Sam's is bringing you back books from the library that he thinks you'll enjoy. Dean always cleans your gun along with his own, making sure it's well-kept and in perfect condition for when you need it. In return, you make sure the boys are fed, getting something healthy for Sam and yourself while picking up a pastry for Dean's breakfast instead.

You find that it's a little easier to get on Sam's good side. In comparison, Dean is a little more closed off, a little more reserved, but you can tell it's got nothing to do with yourself and everything with how they were raised. Over time, you learn about their dark past, about Mary's death and John's need for revenge that led all three of them on the hunter's path. It's mostly Sam who shares these stories with you, although you sometimes manage to get Dean talking too. When he does, it's earnest, albeit short-worded. He often turns the conversation around and instead asks you about your past. He seems fascinated with the way you were brought up and you can hardly blame him. You grew up in the hunter's life alright, but your childhoods couldn't have been any more different.

For starters, both of your parents are still alive and well. You never had to endure the loss of a parental figure, not as a child, nor in recent years, thankfully. But it's more than that. From Sam's tales and what little Dean shares with you, you can't help but feel a tinge of resentment towards the Winchester father. As a child of parents who made sure to equip you with all the necessary tools needed to survive in a world full of monsters, it's beyond you how John drilled his boys to be hunters, yet seemingly neglected the mental aspect of it. For as long as you could remember, your parents had sat down with you and talked you through the emotional turmoil that inevitably came with the field; the bloodshed and the death. From what you could gather, talking about it had never been part of the Winchester schedule. Instead, it looked like Dean in particular had taken on a coping mechanism that was rather popular in the hunter's field, the tried-and-true method of D&D: denial and drinking.

Your heart aches when you see how the job sometimes eats at him. Where you allow yourself to feel for the families of the victims you come across, he rarely gives in to the sympathy he feels for those left behind. On one particular case, a boy is left without his mother after a vampire gets to her before you can. You hold the boy as he weeps for his mother, smoothly rocking him back and forth as tears roll down your own cheeks, unable to hold them back. All of that terror and grief in such a little body; it's heart-wrenching. When you look up at Dean, you see your own feelings mirrored back in his eyes and you can't help but also cry for the little boy who lost his own mother in 1983.

You develop something of a soft spot for the older Winchester brother. It's less out of pity and more out of determination to ensure that the young man gets what he deserves. At not even thirty years old, he's encountered thrice the amount of terror that an average man faces in a lifetime. Beyond his own loss, he continually fights what lurks in the dark so that others don't have to face the same fate as he did. Unlike yourself, he was never given the choice to step into the role of a hunter. John assigned it to him and he dutifully slipped it on, accepting the burden without any questions asked. He shows an unwavering devotion to giving protection to those who need it without ever stopping to think about what he needs. Having been raised with a keen sense of justice, the imbalance of this set-up doesn't sit right with you. And so you quietly decide to embark on your own little mission: Give back to Dean Winchester what he gives the world.

It's easier said than done though. You soon learned that Dean is a natural flirt. Where your charm is mostly kindness, his is saturated to the brim with flirtatious banter. You see waitress after waitress fall for it, witness young women at the bar turn their heads when he walks by and swoon when he winks at him. Sometimes, when he's in a really good mood, you're at the receiving end of his allure. An approving glance up and down your body before the three of you venture out to the local pub turns into attentive gazes throughout the night, served with a sly grin. It makes your stomach flutter when you feel his eyes trailing you through the crowd. Heat seeps into your cheeks when he shimmies past you at the pool table, the skin of his arm gently brushing against yours. "S'cuse me, sweetheart," he'll say and the use of the nickname will tug at something so delicious in your tummy that you have to bite down on your lip to contain your smile. On these nights, it seems impossibly easy to get close to Dean if you wanted to, although it's not strictly the kind of close you intend for. To say you're not attracted to Dean would be a lie, but it's not your mission to give him seven minutes in heaven. Your mission's goal is long-term happiness, not a brief one achieved with both of your pants down around your ankles.

The Dean of those nights stands in contrast to the day-to-day version you're usually travelling with. Where he's not afraid to brush up against you in a full pub, he'll tense up when you cuddle up against him in your sleep. It's noticeable enough for you to register in your sleepy-state and you try to stay on your side of the bed afterwards. Naturally being a touchy person, you try to keep your body contact to Sam, leaning against him on the couch as the three of you are watching a movie. Much to your surprise, Dean nudges at your leg that's tucked under you. "C'mon," he says and cocks his head to the side. "Get comfortable." You search for his eyes, a silent question of 'Are you sure?' but he just cocks his head again and gives you a small smile, so you comply and stretch your leg out over his lap. You don't fully relax into the position for a few minutes, unsure if he's truly comfortable with it, until he rests an arm on your knee and shin while his other arm props his head up on the armrest of the couch. From that day on, this arrangement becomes your standard for movie nights: Sam to your left, Dean on your right, a head on Sam's shoulder and one or two legs stretched out over Dean.

It's small wins like this that make you feel like you're slowly working your way through the outer layers of Dean's shell. What you belatedly realize is that in the process of working through his exterior, he worked himself through yours with ease. It only becomes apparent to you when, during another night at another bar, you suddenly feel a little sting at the sight of Dean talking to another woman rather flirtatiously. The sensation is so out-of-the-blue for you that for a moment, you're more surprised than anything else. How did you fall in love with the older Winchester brother without even noticing it? Sam notices the puzzled look on your face. "You good?" he asks, amusement showing in his voice. You quickly shake yourself to rid yourself of your trance and give a little laugh. "All good," you say and take a sip of your drink before glancing over at Dean again. What you don't realize is that your glance doesn't go unnoticed by Sam, who smiles knowingly to himself.

Having known his brother for all his life, he's noticed the shift in his brother way before you did. He'd had his suspicions, but it took a particularly rough case for Dean's intentions to become clear to Sam. The detour Dean made you guys take so you could have your spirits lifted by a litter of puppies was all Sam needed to have his suspicions confirmed: love has sprouted between his two travel companions.

He gets first row tickets to the spiel that unfolds itself in front of him in the following weeks. It's comical, the way you and Dean dance around each other, afraid to give too much away, unaware that you're both on the same page. The two of you steal glances at each other, but it goes unnoticed by either of you. Sam purposely chooses the seat diagonally from either you or Dean, leaving the space opposite and next to whoever sits down first open, so that the both of you are forced to sit across or besides each other. He can see the math both of you are doing in your heads, not wanting to appear too eager to sit beside each other, painfully unaware of the shared wish of closeness that lingers between the two of you.

As much as he's rooting for both of you to become aware of each other's feelings, he doesn't say anything. He figures they're not his words to say, that inevitably, the penny will drop eventually for one of you. Instead, he aids the process in any way that he can. He suggests you and Dean talk to a victim's friend while he'll speak to the professor you guys think could help you on your case. When it comes to the nightly routine of 'rock, paper, scissors' to decide which of the brothers gets the other side of the bed, he purposely loses to Dean now and then. Other times, he offers to go and get dinner while you two remain at the motel, working on the research.

Weeks pass, and you carry your love around with you like a little secret, a hidden necklace that you tuck back into your shirt when it accidentally slips out. You're oblivious to the fact that Dean's wearing the counterpart to your necklace, his tag molded to fit yours seamlessly. Sometimes, you think you get a glimpse of it. A hand on your lower back that lingers a little too long in place when he squeezes past you. A line of concern on his forehead, deeper than warranted by the small wound on you that he's patching up.

Sam sees these things and watches you write them off as platonic affection. He watches and waits, silently waiting for either of you to realize that in your case, both sides of the coin are one and the same.

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Masterlist

[ellieslittleburrow]

Siblings

Summary : You live near campus, away from Dean and Sam. You haven't seen them in a while. How do you react when you find them right at your door?

Pairings : Dean and Sam winchester x sister

Warnings : nooone, just fluff.

A/N : Hi, babies ❣❣ I hope this is as refreshing to you as it was for me.

------

Oil sizzled as you set the stove on the lowest heat. You tossed the chopped up onions into the pan, filling the room with the familiar aroma.

The house phone rang. And you moved the pan aside before heading for the phone. You pressed a button, setting the phone near your ear when a familiar hum sounded.

Oh my god!

"Dean!" You excitedly shouted, earning yourself an "ouch" over the other line. You pressed a another button, opening the complex door for him and since you were only in the third floor, it only took him a quick minute to appear, followed by Sam.

"Hii" You opened your arms, running to embrace both of them. "What a surprise."

"Hey, kiddo." Dean tightly wrapped his arms around you, letting you go when Sam spoke.

"Hey, honey." Sam pulled you into a hug.

"I missed you both so much." Your voice vibrated into Sam's chest. "What are you doing here?"

"Eating, apparently." As Dean's voice went distant, you pulled away from Sam, spinning around to find Dean marching towards the kitchen.

You let out a little chuckle, following behind.

-----

After setting the plates and beers on the table, you plumped down on the couch, waiting for your brothers to join. And as all three of you started eating, an hour and a half of talks about life, uni, cases and john flowed seamlessly.

"So..." Dean coughed. "Anybody in your life....kid?"

You rolled your eyes at Dean's sudden change of voice. You knew this one, a low tone, manipulative and curious. You're not falling for it.

"Nobody, Dean." You smiled at him, not caring that he already knew you were lying.

"Are you sure about that? Because i'm pretty sure you don't wear size 12 flip floppers." He eyed the entry door and you snorted a laugh. Fucking hell..This guy's eyes..

"Leave her alone, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes before turning to you. "As long as you're happy, honey."

You smiled at his response....your eyes darting around the room when silence set in...

"Alright....Time to head out, Dean." Sam slapped his thighs, readying himself to get up when you pushed him back down.

"No!"

"We have to go, honey. We still have 5 hours to go before we get there." Sam argues and you shook your head.

"Please don't....it's only been an hour." You pleaded, looking over at Dean, who, to your surprise, was staring at you with pleading eyes.

He did not want to go either.

"Come on, Sammy. It's-" you spun around to get a look at the clock. "It's 6pm, don't you wanna get some sleep and head back for the road tomorrow morning?."

Sam grimaced. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, honey. I really do want to stay, but we could always stay over on our way ba-."

You turned to Dean, leaving Sam hanging. But Dean was already laid back, quiet, waiting for you to do all the dirty work. That's when Sam spoke again.

"Okay, how about this" He started, and your eyes grew wide, anticipating what's about to happen.

Sam straightened his back as he held his arms out, positioning one hand on top of the other, his right fist resting on top of his left palm. And as Dean understood the assignment, he got up, mirroring sam.

And in silence you watched, as for the very first time, Sam laid a rock, losing the fight as early as the first round.

You burst into laughter as Sam's eyebrows arose. Nobody expected that. And as you lifted your arms up, jumping in pure ecstasy, Dean grinned triumphantly.

"I won."

You nodded. "And you spend the night here."

Sam smacked his hands together. "Alright, then. Let's prep for a night in."

----

And we're done! If yall can spare a minute and tell me about my writiing pleaase? if i should change it up, if it's too repetitive and stuff. No pressure and thanks in advance ❣ 🖤🖤🥀🥀

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Bloody Mary | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions/descriptions of parental death, implication of suicide (take care of yourselves, my loves)

Word Count: 6379

A/N: Happy Saturday! Asks/Taglists are open!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You and Dean hadn’t talked much since the events on the plane. In fact, the two of you barely looked at each other anymore. Not out of disgust, your stomach just fluttered every time you caught a glimpse of him for reasons you couldn’t explain. You didn’t exactly like him, but you definitely didn’t hate him, either. In fact, your most recent journal drawing had been of your hand wrapped in Dean’s. You smiled at the memory.

Sam slept in the front seat while Dean drove the three of you to Toledo, Ohio. You had actually been the one to find this case. Steven Shoemaker’s eyes had bled when he died. According to his obituary, his death had been swift. He was much too young to have had a stroke or an aneurysm, and seemed to be in good health. Therefore, you concluded this was your kind of gig. 

Sam began to stir, catching your attention. You straightened in your seat as the Impala came to a halt in front of a large hospital complex. Sam’s stirring and whimpering was getting worse by the second.

Dean shook his brother. “Sam, wake up.”

He bolted straight up, confused, taking both you and Dean by surprise. After taking a second to catch his breath, he said, “I take it I was having a nightmare.”

“Yeah, another one,” Dean reminded him.

“Hey, at least I got some sleep.” Sam’s faux optimism caused you to shake your head. 

“You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this.” 

Apparently, Sam was choosing the latter. “Are we here?” he asked.

Dean was happy to drop the subject, too. “Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio.”

The three of you began to approach the morgue wing of the hospital. You noticed Sam was holding the newspaper you’d circled Mr. Shoemaker’s death in. “So what do you think really happened to this guy?”

“That's what we're gonna find out. Ladies first,” you joked, holding the door to the first floor of the hospital open for the brothers. 

After making your way through the labyrinth of hallways, you found the dimly lit and vacated morgue. In the large room were two desks. One was labeled with a nameplate for Dr. D. Feiklowicz with neatly stacked packets, files, and books atop it. The other was a chaotic mess of stray papers labeled “Morgue Technician.”

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Yeah. We're the, uh, med students,” Dean responded.

“Sorry?” the morgue tech asked.

“Oh, Doctor—” Dean gave his best shot at the name, “—Figlavitch didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. He— uh, we're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper.”

“Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch.” The morgue tech was smug, snarky, and clearly lacked people skills.

‘No wonder they have him locked up down here,’ you thought.

Dean changed course. “Oh, well, he said, uh— oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?”

“Sorry, I can't.” The morgue tech gave a tight-lipped smile. “Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want.”

“An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then,” Dean tried. “Uh, look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out—”

“Uh, look, man,” the technician mocked, “No.”

Dean laughed a little and turned around, mumbling. “I'm gonna hit him in his face I swear.”

You took the opportunity to try a different tactic. You leaned down on the morgue technician’s desk, doing your best to take advantage of the fact that he probably has had little contact with women. “Please?” you asked innocently. “These guys are my tutors. I’m really struggling in this class, and I just—” you bit your lip, “—I really need a good grade on this paper.” You used your arms to push your breasts together. “Please?” 

You could tell you had him on the ropes. “Uh…” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your cleavage. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, I guess I could do that for you.”

You smiled innocently. “Thank you so much.”

He began leading the three of you into an attached room to where the bodies were stored for autopsies. You turned around and winked at the boys with a smug smile. Dean rolled his eyes.

The morgue technician pulled the rack Steven Shoemaker’s corpse rested on out from the wall of stainless steel cells.

“Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding,” Sam said.

The technician pulled the sheet back from over Steven’s face. “More than that. They practically liquefied.” The poor man’s eye sockets were still bloody, and they hadn’t yet been sewn shut. You could see the dried blood peeking out from under his partially-closed eyes. 

“Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?” Dean suggested.

“Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone,” the technician answered.

“What's the official cause of death?” Sam asked.

“Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure.”

‘Nope, he’s way too young and in much too good health for that to have been the cause,’ you thought, but kept the thought at bay.

“What do you mean?” you asked. You didn’t like playing dumb, but with this guy, it was necessary. 

“Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen,” the tech answered. Although, he was more responding to your boobs than to your face. You fought the urge to snap in front of his face and get his eyes back on target. 

“The eyes?” Sam asked. “What would cause something like that?”

“Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims,” the morgue tech shrugged.

Dean’s tone was still aggravated with the guy. “Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?”

“That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor.”

“Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh...our paper.”

“I'm not really supposed to show you that.” The technician looked back at you.

You suppressed the bile rising in your throat. Before you could do anything else, Dean stepped in front of you and pulled out his wallet. He shoved two twenties at him, hoping that would be enough. You could see the technician deflate, but accepted the money anyway.

Dean’s actions puzzled you. But you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t flutter at the thought of him doing it out of protectiveness of you. 

When you had finished looking over the police report, the three of you began making your way out of the building. 

“Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing,” Sam suggested after having seen the report. 

“How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?” Dean replied. 

“Uh, almost never.”

“Exactly.”

“Alright, let's go talk to the daughter.” Sam started picking up his pace out of the building. You were happy to see him getting his mind off Jessica and back into the job.

“Wait, Dean.” You grabbed his arm lightly before he could catch up to his brother.

He turned to face you. 

“Why’d you do that?” you asked. 

“Do what?” He furrowed his brow.

“Give the morgue tech your hard-earned poker money,” you half-smiled. 

“I just didn’t wanna watch you prostitute yourself for information,” he replied gruffly, turning away from you. 

You took offense. “Hey, I was not—”

He turned back to you and brushed a hand over his hair. “You’re right, you werent.” He paused again, and his voice came back quiet. “I just didn’t like the way he was looking at you, ‘s all.”

Your heart swelled in your chest and your cheeks began to heat up. “Thanks, by the way,” you said as you continued walking. You nudged his shoulder with yours. “You’re going soft on me, Winchester.”

***

When you arrived at the Shoemaker house, you hadn’t expected to be in the midst of the funeral gathering. If you did, you would’ve dressed more appropriately. Given this fact, you felt slightly awkward when you knocked on the door. A man let you in and pointed you toward the backyard and the two daughters of Steven Shoemaker.

The two sisters were sitting with two blonde girls near the firepit. Dean addressed the older, dark-haired girl. “You must be Donna, right?”

“Yeah,” the girl responded.

“Hi, uh, we're really sorry,” Sam lamented.

“Thank you.”

“I'm Sam, this is Dean and (Y/N). We worked with your dad.”

The girl looked at her friend before looking back at your trio. “You did?” She seemed surprised. 

“Yeah. This whole thing. I mean, a stroke…” Sam trailed off.

“I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now,” one of Donna’s pretty blonde friends spoke up. 

“It's okay. I'm okay,” she assured her friend. 

“Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?” Dean asked.

Donna shook her head. “No.”

The younger sister, who looked to be about twelve, turned around. “That's because it wasn't a stroke.”

You were intrigued.

“Lily, don't say that,” her sister urged her.

“What do you mean?” you asked the young girl.

“I'm sorry, she's just upset,” her sister responded for her.

“No,” Lily wasn’t having it. “It happened because of me.”

Donna placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sweetie, it didn't.”

You got down on Lily’s eye level. “Why would you say that?”

“Right before he died, I said it,” she said softly.

“Said what?”

She lowered her voice even more. “Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror. She took his eyes, that's what she does.”

Donna interrupted. “That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault.”

“I think your sister's right, Lily,” Dean broke in. “There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?”

Lily tried to take this in. She shook her head. 

“Exactly,” you told her. “I’m sorry, we weren’t trying to upset you. We’ll just be leaving.” You pulled the boys away from Donna’s group and went back into the house. Making sure no one saw you three, you crept upstairs to the bathroom where Mr. Shoemaker passed away. 

Sam pushed the door open, and you noticed some dried blood still on the floor. “The Bloody Mary legend. Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?”

“Not that I know of,” Dean replied. He walked ahead of Sam into the bathroom. 

Sam stooped to the floor and touched the dried blood. “I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it.”

“Yeah, but maybe it’s fine everywhere else, but not here,” you suggested.

“The place where the legend began?” Sam tried.

You shrugged as Dean opened the medicine cabinet. 

“But according to the legend, the person who says B—” you stopped yourself and noticed your reflection in the medicine cabinet’s mirror. “You know what is the one that dies. But here—”

“Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah,” Dean finished for you.

Sam rose from the floor. “Right.”

“Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you-know-who scratches your eyes out.”

You considered Dean’s words for a moment. “It's worth checking in to.” You went to leave the bathroom when you noticed one of Donna’s pretty blonde friends approaching you.

“What are you doing up here?” she asked. 

“We— We had to go to the bathroom,” you answered, not believing yourself.

“Who are you?” the girl pressed further.

Dean stepped closer to you from behind. “Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad.”

She shook her head with scrunched eyebrows. “He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself.”

“No, I know, I meant—” 

She cut Dean off. “And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming.”

Sam put a hand up to calm her. “Alright, alright, we think something happened to Donna's dad.”

The blonde looked at you three like you were stupid. “Yeah, a stroke.”

“I don’t think so,” you argued. “He was pretty young to be having a stroke. His eyes wouldn’t have liquified if he’d had a stroke. I think it might be something else.”

She scoffed and crossed her arms. “Like what?’

“Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth,” Sam responded.

“So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead,” Dean snarked.

“Who are you, cops?” she asked, her brows still furrowed.

“Something like that,” you shrugged.

“I'll tell you what. Here.” Sam took a piece of paper and a pen out of his jacket pocket and wrote his phone number down. “If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary, just give us a call.” He handed her the piece of paper before leading you and Dean down the hallway.

Your next stop was the public library. 

“Alright, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town,” Dean began. “There's gonna be some sort of proof— Like a local woman who died nasty.”

“Yeah, but this is hard. The legend is unbelievably widespread with hundreds of different versions of who she actually is,” you rebutted. “One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more.”

“Okay, then, so what are we supposed to be looking for?” Dean asked you.

Sam answered. “Every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers, public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill.”

“Well, that sounds annoying,” the older brother commented. 

“No, it won't be so bad,” Sam replied, “As long as we…”

You cleared your throat, gesturing to the only two computers in the library that had “Out of Order” signs on them. 

Sam chuckled humorlessly. “I take it back. This will be very annoying.”

The three of you picked up boxes of the town’s newspapers and numerous books of Toledo’s public records and brought them back to Sam and Dean’s motel room. 

You were beginning to go cross-eyed after reading for so long. Minutes turned into hours. Dean was sitting in a chair, you were sprawled across the floor with papers and books scattered around you, and Sam eventually fell asleep.

You stood up to stretch your legs and noticed his closed eyes. “Poor fella,” you said quietly. “How’s he been sleeping?”

“How d’you think?” Dean responded, eyes never leaving his book.

You nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Maybe we should get him to take something,” you suggested.

Dean chuckled. “He won’t do it.”

“Is it just because I’m suggesting it that you’re saying that, or do you really think he won’t take it?” you countered.

He gave you a deadpan expression. 

“You Winchesters are just about the most stubborn people I’ve ever met in my life. Including your dad,” you jested. You heard Dean chuckle a little, too.

“And I wanted to tell you,” you started, “I understand why you’d suspect me in your dad’s disappearance.”

He looked away from his book and over at you. “What do you mean?”

“What you said back in Colorado? The Wendigo case? I get it.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You’re still on that?”

“I mean, yeah, that was just about the most heated fight we’ve had. It kinda stuck with me,” you answered honestly, looking down at your stripey-sock-covered feet. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I understand.”

A moment passed silently.

“And I, um—” you took a deep breath, “I want you to trust me.” You looked back at Dean who was studying you carefully.

The tense moment was interrupted by Sam jolting awake in his bed. “Why'd you let me fall asleep?”

“Cause I'm an awesome brother.” Dean’s attention was back on his book. “So what did you dream about?”

“Lollipops and candy canes,” the younger brother responded hazily while staring up at the ceiling.

You laughed humorlessly.

“Did you guys find anything?” Sam asked.

“Oh, besides a whole new level of frustration?” Dean responded sarcastically. “No. I've looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror—”

“And a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave—” you chimed in.

“But no Mary,” Dean finished for you.

“Maybe we just haven't found it yet,” Sam tried.

“I've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know… eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary,” Dean said.

Sam’s phone rang just as his brother finished talking. “Hello?” A look of concern crossed his face. He was trying to calm whoever it was on the other end down.

You waited until he got off the phone to bombard him with questions. “What? What happened?”

“Charlie,” he told you. “Her friend’s dead.”

***

Charlie sobbed as she relayed the story of what happened to her friend Jill. “And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her— her eyes. They were gone.”

You had met her in a park not an hour after she had called Sam.

“I'm sorry,” the latter responded.

“And she said it,” Charlie told you. “I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?”

“No, you're not insane,” you said.

“Oh, god, that makes me feel so much worse.” You feared that might be the case.

Sam was honest with her. “Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained.”

“And we're gonna stop it,” Dean assured Charlie, “but we could use your help.”

You knew exactly where Dean was going with this. And thankfully, Charlie obliged. She snuck you and the boys into Jill’s room through the window. Dean and Sam gave you a boost into the second story room before throwing up Dean’s duffel bag.

“What did you tell Jill's mom?” you asked Charlie.

“Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things,” she replied simply. “I hate lying to her.”

You heard someone closing the blinds and curtains behind you. “Trust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights,” Dean instructed her.

She obeyed but asked, “What are you guys looking for?”

“We'll let you know as soon as we find it,” the older brother responded.

Sam handed you a digital camera. “Hey, night vision!” You turned it on. You aimed the camera at Dean.

“Do I look like Paris Hilton?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing an amused smile. You walked over to Jill’s closet door and began filming the mirror on it. 

“So I don't get it,” Sam began. “I mean, the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?”

You shrugged. 

“Beats me,” Dean answered. “I want to know why Jill said it in the first place.”

“It was just a joke,” Charlie replied.

“Yeah, well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time.”

You had made your way over to the bathroom and filmed around the mirror. You stopped when you noticed a trickle of something running from behind it. “Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah?” He came over to you. 

“Look at this.” You showed him the substance oozing from behind the mirror.

Sam looked to his brother. “There's a black light in the trunk, right?” 

While Dean left to get the light, you and Sam pulled the mirror off the wall. When Dean returned, you could see a handprint and the name “Gary Bryman” illuminated by the black light. 

“Gary Bryman?” Charlie asked.

You looked up at her. “You know who that is?”

She shook her head. “No.”

You learned from Sam’s research and Charlie that Jill had killed Gary Bryman, an eight-year-old boy, in a hit and run accident. Dean then decided you needed to return to Donna’s house. When you pulled the medicine cabinet mirror off the wall, sure enough, there was another handprint and the name “Linda Shoemaker.” You learned from Donna that her mother had overdosed on sleeping pills. You had left Charlie at Donna’s house to comfort her friend after you and the boys had upset her with your questions about her mother’s death. 

You then traveled to Fort Wayne, Indiana to investigate the death of a woman named Mary Worthington. She had died the same way these victims were; bleeding from the sockets where her eyes used to be. You spoke to the detective who was the lead on her case. He believed she spent her last moments trying to expose her killer she was having an affair with. She went as far as to start spelling out the name of her killer in her own blood on the back of her mirror. She only got to the third letter of her killer’s name before passing away. It made complete sense to you that her spirit would spend its time exposing the secrets of other murderers. Mary Worthington’s body had been cremated, but the mirror she wrote on had been returned to her family. Now, you and the boys were trying to track down where that mirror had ended up. 

“Oh really?” Sam responded to the man on the phone. “Ah, that's too bad Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror… Okay, well maybe next time… Alright, thanks.” He hung up.

“So?” you asked.

“So that was Mary's brother,” he informed you. “The mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo.”

Dean momentarily looked away from the road to his brother. “So wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?” 

“Her spirit's definitely tied up with it somehow,” Sam responded.

“Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?” you chimed in.

“Yeah, there is. Yeah, when someone would die in a house people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped.”

Dean connected the dots. “So Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit.”

“Yeah, but how could she move through like a hundred different mirrors?” you challenged.

“I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it.”

“Yeah, I don't know, maybe,” Sam sighed. His phone rang. “Hello?... Charlie?”

***

You and the boys picked up Charlie and brought her to the motel you were staying in. You and the Winchesters were busying yourselves with covering every reflective surface in Sam and Dean’s room with sheets, blankets, jackets; anything. Charlie’s gorgeous blonde hair was knotted and messy, her eyes were puffy from crying but remained closed, and her knees were drawn into her chest. 

Sam sat on the bed next to Charlie. “Hey, hey, it's ok. Hey, you can open up your eyes Charlie. It's okay, alright?”

She looked up slowly. 

“Now listen,” he began softly. “You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you.”

“But I can't keep that up forever. I'm gonna die, aren't I?” Charlie’s voice trembled.

“No. No. Not anytime soon,” the brunet assured her. 

You sat on the floor in front of her and put a hand on her knee. “We need to know what happened, babe.”

“We were in the bathroom.” Her eyes brimmed with tears again. “Donna said it.”

“That's not what we're talking about,” Dean stated. There was something dark behind his tone. “Something happened, didn't it? In your life— .a secret— where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?”

The tears were flowing from her eyes now. “I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said "Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself." And you know what I said? I said "Go ahead." And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just...I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.” She pulled her knees back to her chest and buried her face between them. 

You felt completely horrible for her. But there was no time for a therapy session because you and the boys were off to that Toledo antique store where Mary’s mirror was being kept.

Dean sped down the road despite the pouring rain which you deeply wanted to protest against. You remained silent anyway.

“You know, her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault.” Dean broke the silence.

“You know spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Dean. Charlie had a secret, somebody died, and that's good enough for Mary,” you told him.

“I guess,” he shrugged.

“You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror,” Sam chimed in.

Dean turned his head to his brother. “Why, what do you mean?”

“Well, Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror, so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it.”

“Well, how do you know that's going to work?” Dean asked. 

Sam shook his head. “I don't; not for sure.”

“Well who's gonna summon her?” his brother’s tone got a little panicked.

“I will. She'll come after me,” Sam replied solemnly.

“You know what, that's it.” Dean pulled over to the side of the road. “This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night— it's gonna kill you. Now, listen to me, it wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place.”

“I don't blame you.” Sam’s voice cracked.

“Well, you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done,” Dean responded sharply.

Sam tried to shake his emotion away. “I could've warned her.”

“About what? You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean I know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway,” Dean said.

“No you don't,” was all Sam could muster.

“I don't what?” 

“You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything.”

You had been trying to stay out of it, but couldn’t hold it back anymore. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?” 

You and Dean were taken aback. “No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it.” 

“Guys, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this.”

Dean gripped the steering wheel, clenched his jaw, and pulled back out onto the road. The air was heavy and tense in the car. You sat back in your chair with your arms crossed over your chest. No one spoke for the rest of the drive.

When you reached the shop, you picked the lock on the door to reveal dozens of mirrors. 

“Well, that's just great,” Dean grumbled. He pulled out the picture you’d gotten from the detective in Indiana of Mary’s body next to the mirror. “Alright, let's start looking.”

The three of you split up. You were an incredibly detail-oriented person, but even still, all of the mirrors seemed the same to you. 

“Maybe they've already sold it,” Dean called from across the room.

Your flashlight came to rest on a mirror you could swear you’d seen before. “I don't think so. C’mere, Dean.”

He came over to you and held up the photo to the mirror. And sure enough, it was a match. 

“You sure about this?” Dean asked his brother. 

Sam nodded and handed you his flashlight. Taking a deep breath, he says, “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary.”

You whipped your head in the direction of a light coming through the store.

“I'll go check that out. Stay here, be careful,” Dean ordered. “Smash anything that moves.” He crawled away from you and you heard him distantly say, “Crap.”

You paid no mind to Dean as you tightened your grip on the crowbar. 

You heard a whooshing sound behind you and wheeled around. In the mirror was Mary. You sprang to action and smashed your crowbar through the dead center of it. 

You could hear a distorted version of Sam’s voice coming from behind you, but before you could aid him, your own reflection caught your attention. It wasn’t quite syncing with your movements; instead looking at you menacingly. 

Before you could move to hit it, you felt an insane pressure coming from behind your eyes, your throat constricted, and blood began to ooze down your face. 

“You can’t keep running, (Y/N),” your reflection told you. “How could you? How could you be so careless?”

The blood dripping from your eyes began to mix with your tears. You didn’t have enough breath to protest. You began to sink to the floor, the crowbar clanging to the ground.

“It’s your fault that they’re gone. Why didn’t you try harder? Why didn’t you fight to keep them alive? Why did you have to kill them? Your guilt should eat you alive. You don’t deserve another family. You know you don’t deserve to be happy again. You know your recklessness will get these boys killed, too. You are so selfish! And your brother! If you hadn’t done what you did, he would still be alive, too. You are worthless. All you bring is death and—” 

The pressure around your throat released when Dean’s crowbar went through the mirror. He barely spared you a second look before going over to his brother. 

“Sam, Sammy!” you heard from behind you. 

You clutched at your throat and began to cry. You knew Dean had turned cold once more because he heard what your reflection said.

Sam groaned in pain as you saw Dean shouldering his brother and pulling him toward the exit of the shop. 

“C’mon, (Y/N),” Sam urged you. 

You shakily stood and did your best to follow the brothers out. Your dizziness caused you to fall back down to the ground on top of shards of glass, making you yelp as they pierced your hands. 

“Help her, Dean!” you heard Sam demand. 

Dean came to your side, clearly in no hurry, and cradled you in his arms. Before he could get anymore than two steps, you noticed Mary crawling out of the frame of her original mirror. Her dark hair was matted and fell in front of her face. Her dress was tattered, and her limbs moved in an inhuman manner; cracking with every movement. You and Dean were sent flying across the floor toward Sam, and the bleeding of your eyes started again.

You looked to the mirror inches from your head. Despite your weakness, you forced yourself to grab it and turn its face toward Mary.

“You killed them!” you heard her reflection cry. “All those people! You killed them!” Mary started choking just as you had and then melted into a pool of blood on the ground. You threw the mirror you’d been holding and shattered it completely.

You dropped your head back to the floor.

“Hey Sam?” you heard Dean say.

“Yeah?”

“This has got to be like,what, six hundred years of bad luck?” the older brother joked. 

Sam chuckled weakly. You couldn’t even muster up a laugh due to the bile rising in your throat. Memories were eating away at you, and the fact that Dean had heard your reflection was only adding to your anxiety. Your breath began to quicken, but you did your best to soothe yourself.

“(Y/N).” Sam drew you out of your trance. “Can you stand?” 

You tried your best to, but couldn’t. Dean squatted down next to you. “C’mon.” He motioned for you to let him carry you. You complied. You looked up at his chiseled face. You swore he was handcrafted by the gods; perhaps Adonis himself. Your hazy mind couldn’t focus on anything aside from his beautiful green eyes. You had so much to say to him about what he’d heard. You knew he didn’t think highly of you, but your relationship had begun to get better. You didn’t want, well, you, to ruin it all now. 

“Dean, I—” you started.

He cut you off. “We’ll talk later,” he said gruffly. Despite his cold and guarded tone, he put you down gently in the back of the Impala.

You ended up falling asleep in the back of the Impala. When you next awoke, you had been tucked into your bed in the motel. Your boots had been discarded, your jacket had been removed, and your key that you kept in your jacket pocket was now on the nightstand beside you. The gesture was sweet, but your mind immediately started reeling about the conversation you needed to have with Dean. 

You checked the clock; it was ten in the morning. You were surprised how late you had slept, and figured the boys had dropped Charlie off; potentially had even left town without you. Your anxiety getting the best of you, you rushed over to their door. Dean opened it when you knocked.

“Hey,” you breathed.

“Hey,” he echoed.

“Can we talk?”

He nodded. 

You led Dean back to your room. You sat cross-legged on your bed and Dean chose the chair across from you.

“Okay, um,” you sighed. “What do you want to know?”

“Who’d you kill, (Y/N)?” came his straightforward and dry response. “Why did it say you’d get us killed, too?”

You looked down at the floor, the tears beginning to well up in your waterline. “I wanna tell you, I just—”

“Look at me.” His voice was firm.

You did.

“I need to know.”

You took a deep breath. “When I was eighteen, I was coming back home from one of my first solo hunts. My dad had sent me to take out a vampire nest on the edge of the town we were staying in. There were only three vamps there at the time. I got so excited that I had nuked them all, I didn’t account for the fact that all three of them seemed like newbies. I didn’t… register, I guess, that one or more was probably missing.” You averted his gaze, struggling to keep your voice level. “And so, I left. I went back to the house we were squatting in, and, um, one of them followed me.” Tears began to roll down your cheeks.

“Sweetheart, that’s not your—”

You shook your head. “It is. He turned them, Dean. He turned my mom and my dad. I— I had no choice. I had to—” Your sentence was cut off by a sob, but Dean understood what you meant. You wiped a hand over your face and did your best to continue your story. “I sat with their bodies for a long time after. When my brother came back and saw what I’d done, he drew his gun on me. He, um, he wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t let me explain. He couldn’t shoot me, though. He… He just… left. And then— And then, his best friend called me a few days later.” The tears came back. “He found my brother’s car.” You pressed a hand to your mouth. “And he was dead in it.” Broken sobs wracked your body once again. “It’s my fault that they’re gone, Dean, it’s my fault.”

You couldn’t bear to look at him. You knew how disgusted he must be with you. And then, you felt the bed dip beside you. Then, a hand on your arm. Then, he pulled you to his chest, and you melted into his embrace. Your cries still shook your body, but Dean’s strong arms held you together. He sat with you like that for a long time. 

You and the boys had decided to leave Toledo sooner rather than later after Sam told you what Dean had done to the cops in front of the antique store. Long after leaving Toledo, Dean broke the comfortable silence that had settled over the car.

“Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is.”

The younger Winchester sighed. “Look, you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself.”

Your eyes remained trained on Sam as he looked out the window at something you were passing by. His expression went from confused to scared to saddened, and you knew he was seeing Jessica. After all, you had no doubt your face mirrored his every time you saw your mom standing on a street corner or your dad’s bloodied body lying in your footpath. In time, you knew he would learn to live with it just as you had. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz

[soupsuckz]

PLS YOURE SO GOOD WITH SAM WINCHESTER SMUT

sam winchester nsfw alphabet?? fem!reader

<3

♡ im basically a natural when it comes to sam ♡

A- Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

He usually stays inside you for a few moments after cumming. He likes the intimacy of being close, but then he'll get you water and a warm rag. If you're especially tired, he will wipe you up and then you'll most likely cuddle for a while.

B- Body Part (Their favorite of yours and their own)

Sam loves your neck. He loves nipping at it, leaving hickies, wrapping his hands around it, etc. For himself, he probably is the most proud of his arms or hands. He loves being able to pick you up without any issue.

C- Cum (Anything to do with it)

Usually he'll pull out and cum on himself, but if you give him the choice he'll either cum inside or on your stomach. He's also suuuuper messy with it, and loves seeing you covered.

D- Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs)

He secretly loves subtle exhibitionism, stuff like making you moan so loud any guests can hear you. He doesn't want to actually show them anything, but rather just make them imagine. He loves when you brag about him, (especially in bed) and it definitely eggs him on.

E- Experience (How much experience do they have? Do they know what they're doing?)

He obviously hasn't had as much as Dean, but that's because he prefers to get to know the person first. Sam thrives on knowing exactly how to make you squirm, so he usually won't hire a prostitute. He thinks sex should be enjoyable for both of those involved and feels almost ashamed to use someone.

F- Favorite Position (Self explanitory, their fav sex position)

He honestly doesn't care what position you're in, as long as it's comfortable. His favorite though, is doggystyle. He loves being able to grab your ass and still have access to your neck.

G- Goofy (Are they more serious or goofy during sex?)

Sam is usually pretty serious during it, but he'll crack a joke every once in a while if you're nervous. He wants to make sure you're comfortable and knows he isn't going to hurt you. (Without your permission.)

H- Hair (How well groomed are they? Do the curtains match the drapes?)

It's no secret that he's hairy, but he does keep it clean and trimmed. Even when he's not in a relationship, he prefers to have it tamed.

I- Intimacy (How romantic are they in the bedroom?)

He's not necessarily romantic, but he's super sweet. He tries to take you out on dates and get you flowers, but it somehow always gets messed up. Usually a 'romantic' night for you two includes him making dinner and then watching a movie and cuddling.

J- Jackoff (Masturbation headcanon)

Whenever Sam does jerkoff he likes to still pretend it's you. He'll cover his eyes and think of all the things you do to him, stroking himself how you ways do.

K- Kinks (One or more of their kinks)

Hm, he's definitely into biting and scratching, maybe even a little tickling. Other than that I think he's pretty vanilla.

L- Location (Favorite place to do it?)

Honestly as vanilla as it is, he loves the bed. He'll be happy to fuck you in Baby, but he prefers somewhere soft and warm. He loves the convenience of being able to just cuddle and sleep afterwards.

M- Motivation (What turns them on?)

Sam absolutely loves when you wear his clothes/cologne. It makes him feel so primal.

N- No (Things they absolutely wouldn't do, turn offs.)

Even though he's a hunter, and deal's with super gross stuff, he will not do anything with scat, piss, or vomit.

O- Oral (What do they prefer?)

Sam loves a good blowjob, but he'd always prefer to eat you out. He's so desperate and hungry, eating you out like a starved man.

P- Pace (Are they fast or rough? Slow or sensual?)

He's rough and slow. He takes long, sweet thrusts before slamming back into you.

Q- Quickie (What are their opinions on them?)

He doesn't love them but he's used to them. Being with hunting you two don't have a lot of time alone so it's not uncommon for you to go to a gas station bathroom and get off.

R- Risk (How risky are they?)

It depends on the era. In the first few seasons, not at all. I think after S7 he stopped caring about whether Dean heard or not.

S- Stamina (How long can they go for?)

S1-6 Sam can definitely go up to 3 rounds, but I think after Soulless Sam he can only go 1-2 before being exhausted.

T- Toys (Do they have any? Do they use them on their partner?)

He doesn't own any toys for himself, but he's open to it. If you have a wand or something he wouldn't mind you using it on him.

U- Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)

Sam isn't super into teasing unless he's stressed out. He usually is straight to the point when it comes to the bedroom, so most of the teasing will be way before you two are even home.

V- Volume (How loud are they?)

Like I've said before I don't think he necessarily makes a lot of noise but he does grunt into your ear.

W- Wildcard (Random drabble or hc)

I feel like he probably fantasizes about a normal life where you're his housewife and he gets you pregnant. He loves the idea of showing everyone just how much he cares by filling you with a new life.

X- X-ray (What's going on under their pants?)

Sam is long and girthy. I think he'd probably be around 6 inches and definitely very thick.

Y- Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He's obviously not as horny as Dean, but he does get very needy. Even if it's just getting off in front of each other, he loves seeing you trust him that much.

Z- Zzz (How fast do they fall asleep afterwards?)

Sam feels guilty falling asleep without taking care of you first, so he'll make sure to tend to your needs before even laying back down. After he's finished he will usually curl up with you and nap for a while.

[apocalypseornaw]

Real or Not (Pt 3/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

You and the boys meet up with Camila

@lacilou you wanted pain

A/N: remember before you get too mad at Dean there's 2 more chapters!!

If there was one thing you'd learnt in your life especially as a hunter was using the fake it till you make it method. Bobby always said to keep your shoulders squared and head held high, even when you were terrified because it put forth the idea that you weren't.

You'd been silent the entire two hour car ride. You didn't want to speak to Sam nor Dean. You'd even taken the backseat saying you just had a small headache and wanted a quick nap. Rather Dean believed you or not you weren't sure.

"Maybe he doesn't care" the moment the thought slipped through your mind you felt a little bit of guilt for having such little faith in the man You'd spent the last few years in the bed of and so long before that as a friend to. He cared he just didn't assume to think you would lie to him.

-------------

You actually almost dozed off about the time you felt the impala slow down and looked up to see Dean was pulling into a motel parking lot. You took a deep breath the moment you spotted Camila's mustang. You could do this, you were pretty damn professional when it came to the job, people were at risk.... kids. You could swallow anything you threw your way if it meant saving kids.

Sam glanced over his shoulder at you and you could see the unspoken question in his eyes "Sure you ok?" You gave him a small smile as Dean parked. You climbed out slowly, smoothing a hand down over your hair. You could do this.

----------------

The moment the door to room three twenty two opened you heard Donna's voice flash through your mind "No one can make you feel bad about yourself unless you let em"

Camila was well if you were being honest nothing short of gorgeous. She was five foot nine so she was leggy, dark black hair was braided back in an intricate style leaving her bright blue eyes clear. The moment she spotted Dean a smile split her face and you felt your heart drop. You could do this.

She walked over to the three of you, her attention clearly on Dean as she said "Thanks for coming. I knew I needed backup as soon as I figured out what I was dealing with" Dean nodded "Sure thing" then turned towards you "You remember Y/N don't ya?"

Camila's eyes narrowed slightly when she looked at you but schooled her features before Dean or Sam saw it "Of course! You're Vivians niece" you forced a smile onto your face "That'd be me" Dean reached out and pulled you into his side "Well since we're all caught up want to update us on the case?"

If looks could kill you'd either be in heaven or hell just from the way Camila stared you down once she realized you and Dean were indeed together and it wasn't just a rumor floating around the hunters mill.

"Of course Deany" you felt yourself bristle but held it in. Kids were at risk, you had to remind yourself that.

The location of where the kids had to be was narrowed down to two places. You stood next to Dean, across the table from Camila and Sam. Like it or not this was her case and her lead. She smiled at you "Y/N, we both know these two work best as a team as why don't they take one location and we take the other" there was something in her eyes, a challenge. She thought you'd back down.

You returned her smile fully "Guessing we're taking your car then because mines home at the bunker" She nodded "Of course"

---------------

You were at the trunk of the impala taking one of the impromptu flamethrowers Dean held out. You were hoping your feelings weren't showing on your face but those hopes were dashed when he said "Y/N, you good?"

You nodded "Aces" he stared at you for a second then nodded "Be safe, come back to me in one piece" it probably shouldn't have bothered you but when he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead instead of your lips you felt your stomach drop. He kissed Jody, Donna and Charlie on the forehead, not you.

You refused to fight before a hunt so you smiled "You too" then walked over to where Camila stood, very much looking like she was planning to feed you to a changeling.

"Ready to go?" You nodded as you heard the boys shut the doors of the impala. The moment the engine roared to life her smile dropped "a little strange he doesn't kiss you before a hunt, he always called it a good luck charm when he was with me" you felt your mouth fall open at her comment but once again that overly friendly mask fell into place "I'm kidding of course! I know this is a little awkward"

You laughed lightly but the only thought you had was to knock her perfectly white teeth down her throat and say you were joking. Instead you climbed into her car and shut the door.

----------------

You walked through the abandoned warehouse slowly, checking every corner. The further you walked the more you were beginning to think the boys had caught the action. Camila was nearby, you could hear her footfalls echoing.

"Ya know Y/N, how long have you been with Dean?" You rolled your eyes before saying "Should we really be discussing my relationship mid hunt" she let out a bark of laughter "Oh come on sweetcheeks. It's apparent thr boys caught the fun. Why can't we talk a little"

You spun on your heel to see she was about two feet from you "I've been with Dean a few years" she nodded slowly "when did you move into the bunker" you shrugged "a few months after they found it" "so right after me and him broke up?" You shrugged again "Don't keep up with other people's relationships"

You started back walking, with intentions to head outside but stopped when she said "Funny that timeline is around the same time I told him to move on that I wasn't coming back to him" You felt your shoulders tense "What are you trying to say here Camila?"

She walked around you to be facing you before a smile slipped onto her face "Dean got with you because he couldn't have me. Want me to pull up the emails from us talking? Of him telling me how he loved me?" You knew your face had fallen even before she said "Oh honey did you think he followed up this" she motioned to herself then to you "With that?"

You'd taken enough, you swung on her felt a sense of satisfaction when it connected solidly. Instead of trying to swing back she simply cradled her jaw and smiled despite the blood dripped from her now split lip "I hit a nerve. You know I could have him back tonight. He loved me more than Lisa or Cassie. I went through thinking he wasn't what I wanted but he is, and you need to face it"

"If he still wants you why is he with me then?" You asked, mustering every ounce of false bravado you could. She took a step towards you "Did you know he was looking at rings at one point? He would've stopped hunting if I'd asked. Does that really compare to you and him? Has he even said he loves you?" You didn't reply but your face must have shown because she made a tsk tsk sound "You poor thing"

You could feel your hands shaking by that point and damn her she grinned "Oh feel free to hit me again! I can play victim then! Dean I don't know what happened she just attacked me" you motioned to the door of the warehouse "Leave now"

She motioned around "What, are you gonna walk?" You squared your shoulders and got nose to nose with her "If Dean wants a two faced bitch over an honest woman so fucking be it but I won't be disrespected" she cackled like a mad woman "You're a crazy bitch" before turning and walking out.

You waited until you heard her mustang pull over to let the tears that had been threatening to escape fall. She'd just picked at every fucking insecurity you had. Maybe she was right, if Dean loved her enough to even consider giving up hunting maybe you should take yourself out of the equation.

You walked out into the cool night air about the time your phone started ringing. It was Dean. You answered it "Hello?" The voice that hit your ears made your heart freeze over. Camila replied "Told ya" you hung up and stared at your phone before hitting Donna's number.

---------

You climbed into Claire's car and knew she had questions from the look in her eyes but luckily she didn't say anything besides "You headed to Donna's?" You nodded slowly before turning off your phone. Dean's number kept calling but you refused to hear Camilas voice any more. She'd won, you'd lost the man you loved.

@psychicbouquetblaze-stuff

@lacilou @saranghaey @stoneyggirl2 @marimarvelfan @roseblue373 @suckitands33 @backtotheshitshow @jackles010378 @leigh70 @diagnosedpsychosis @badassbitch-21

[shelbgrey]

Being in a love triangle with Dean and Cas

Paring: Dean winchester x reader x Castile (not destile!)

Summary: headcanons about an angel and a hunter fall in love with you.

A/n: this won the newest voting thing :)

MasterList

“They're both in love with her” Sam sighed.

“my money is on Dean” Bobby said drinking his beer.

Okay... So, get ready for every single thing to be a contest. they're both extremely stubborn and even the simplest of things will be turned into a competition of who can do it better, even if Cas doesn't understand.

Since Cas is clueless about most human actions, he usually tries to copy Dean but ends up doing it in a more goofy or messed up way.

Cas wasn't supposed to fall in love with you, he's your Gardian Angel and the rules in heaven are pretty strict. He couldn't help but fall in love with your compassion and goofy personality.

You and Dean had always been on and off, he deeply cares about you and would even say he loves you, but with you both being hunters he's always afraid to lose you or he thinks he's not good enough.

Cas didn't know how to handle the feeling he's never had to deal with, every time he'd see Dean put his arm on you or flirt with you, cas would feel his fist clinch and he'd get so angry.

“I don't know what's wrong with me, my chest is heaving and... I just feel so pissed” Cas said to Sam one day.

“your either jealous or...” Sam stoped. “your not in love with y/n, are you?”

Cas didn't know, but he realized his change in adatued and thoughts. As your Gardian Angel he'd would often go with you to protect you beacuse that was his job, now he would literally push Dean to the side to go on a hunt with you.

Remember when I said you and Dean would often be off and on again? Well Cass has seen two break-ups, and this would be the only time he'd put his feelings aside. He's your best friend and he dose know when you need a shoulder to cry on.

Anyway, Dean would catch on quickly, he cares about Cas but he cares about you more. So challenge accepted.

He wasn't gonna lose you to a baby in a trench coat.

Dean is often very forward and flirty, you were used to his complements and dirty jokes. But when he realized he could use you to Cas he'd turn up the flirting to 100%, which would often make you uncomfortable... You weren't used to him acting like that.

But underneath all the flirting, he's genuine and what he's saying is true.

Suprisenly Cas would become very charming. He wears his heart on his sleeve. He loves he can easily express himself around you and learn about human life without being judged.

I also think Cas is good at knowing when to pump the brakes if he ever steps a line or goes too far. Dean sometimes doesn't and sometimes he forgets that he doesn't need to use the same tactics he used to use bar girls.

If you get hurt Cas will warp his coat around you and heal you up, if it's really bad Cas and Dean will literally start arguing.

One time it got so bad you probably wouldn't still be in this damn triangle if Sam didn't take you to the hospital.

That's when they realized that they really need to put their differences aside, it wasn't just about them, it was about you too.

“she means everything to me... I want her to be happy” Dean says to Sam. “and what if she's chooses Cas?”

“she won't... Just because he's her guardian angel doesn't mean he can make her happy”

Dean was so scared to lose you while Cass just didn't know how to express himself, there been many opportunities for Cas but he'd always chicken out.

What you hated most about this whole situation is that Cas and Dean were turning on each other. You knew they were best friends and you couldn't help but think this, no girl is worth losing your best friend over.

As it went on you got more and more attention, you didn't want that. Then Sam and Bobby's secret poll only grew more bets as time went on.

Jack was so confused, he saw you as a mom and Cas as his dad. So he really just wants you two to be together. He watched the parent trap and used some of the tactics, Sam gently told him to stay out of it.

If Dean would make you a mix tape, Cas would find an even more romantic gesture. During the time you and Dean did date he learned that you were a simple girl and didn't like fancy stuff.

Cas would go to Sam or Jody for advice. Sam would suggest flowers, expensive places while Jody would remind him to just be himself and remember the stuff your actually interested in.

He's been your Gardian Angel for years, so he knows your likes and dislikes. He was so happy when he found a copy of a novel you've been surching for, he loved the feeling of you wrapping your arms around him and cheering that you finally got the book.

“thank you Cas, your the best!”

Gabriel, who liked to stir the pot in the situation was on cas' side. He would sometimes mess somthing up for one of them or just watch one of their planes fail. This was a better love story than twilight in his opinion.

One day Cas found a ring in Dean's room, it's literally not what you guys think. Dean was his mom's and he just wanted to look at it.

Cas watched enough movies with you and thought it was an engagement ring. He felt his heart pounded, he also relized he's watched way too much TV with you. He remembered watching Grey's anatomy with you, he remembered you crying with Mark Sloan died and gave his 'if you love someone' speach.

“I wish I could experience that... A guy not caring about the consequences and just expressing he loves someone” you told him way back when.

That's when he had enough, he didn't care if Dean was there or not he's was gonna tell you. “I love you y/n... I love everything about you, even things I don't understand... I still love”

He told you to think everything through. As much as he loved you, he didn't want you making any hasty decisions or let what he said cloud your mind.

A couple of days later, Dean came to you with the same heart filled love speach after a rough hunt. “I love you... I know I don't show it much or express it, but belive me when I say your the best thing that's ever happened to me”

You had so much to think about and during that time you never felt so overwhelmed, your heart would always pound when you thought about them.

You spent almost three nights just laying awake in bed thinking about them, there was logic and there was reason.

The logical choice would be Dean, you could grow old with him and have a family. After Jack, Cas was terrified to have children with a human. Just because Dean was haman didn't make it a logical choice, but you guys been through so much. There been many night you guys spent patching up wounded parts of your bodies or cleaning up blood after a hunt.

Logically, Cas would be safer. Castile can protect you and heal you with just a brush of his thumb. Just because he was clueless doesn't mean he didn't know how to make a woman's heart pound in the best way possible. Cas knew your deepest fears and kept secrets for years, he knew everything about you.

Positive reasons would bring up the way Dean would make you laugh. Or how he could make you smile no matter how mad you were.

You though about how warm his bear hugs were and how good he smelled.

Dean was a worrior and he would take a bullet for you. You were always his main priority and you never felt that with someone before him.

Even if he didn't know how to interact with humans, he knew how to take care of you. He knew when you need to talk or need a hug. He would catch on to your Quirks, like how you'll nibble on your lip when your doing research or reading.

He'd notice the little wrinks on your forehead when your mad or laughing. He'd know all your different smiles and the meanings of them.

You love whem you hug him you'd feel his wings wrap around you.

What you might not know is Cas would give up immortality for you, he'd become human if it meant spending What humans thought forever was.

“I don't know what to do Sammy” you sighed.

“stop using your brain, what dose your heart say?” he asked. “you'll know the right decision when the time comes”

The next day you took a deep breath and walked down the bunker hallway, Cas and Dean's were right across from each other. Dean's door was beaten up and had band stickers on it. Cas was newer and had 'Cas' place' carved in it.

If you chose Castile:

If you chose him, you didn't go directly to him. You knew he was the one you just didn't know how to do it. When you finally got the courage, Sam interrupted with a paranormal case.

It was hard, you got whipped around like crazy and thrown through windows, the vengeful spirit wasn't gonna let up.

The spirit through your blade at you and it went straight to the gut. You were already bleeding and weak, so this wasn't helping.

You crumbed in Castile's arms and he started to panic. He used his trench coat to applie presher to your wounds.

“Sam! Dean! Help me!”

You coughed and placed your hand on his cheek making him look at you. His watery blue eyes looked at you with so much panic.

You smiled and pulled him closer to you. “I love you Cas... So much”

“I love you too... Hold still, I got you” he placed his lips on yours while his hands healed all your cuts and bruises.

Side note... You also adopt Jack, he finally had parents and he couldn't be happier.

-a week later...

“Balls! I lost $200” Bobby grumbled, you gave the boys a questioning look.

“you beted on us?” you asked Sam, He shrugged. “hey, at least you got $600 for your honeymoon” Sam joked, you took the notebook with all the bets written down and hit him in the head.

If you chose Dean:

You knocked on his door, he when whipped it open a smile immediately formed on his face. “hey, sweetheart”

“can we talk?” you asked softly. Dean nodded as his heart pounded, he didn't know what to expect.

“if this this about what I sa-”

“I love you” you said cutting him off.

He pulled you to his chest and immediately slammed his lips on yours, he pulled away and rested his forehead on yours. “thank God... I love you too”

[mlmxreader]

Conflict Of Interest | Dean Winchester x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ “Sit down. We need to talk about whatever the fuck this is between us”

With dean please? ❞

: ̗̀➛ You and Dean certainly have a conflict of interest when it comes to one another.

: ̗̀➛ [trigger warnings] swearing, alcohol consumption

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Dean watched with a clenched jaw as you made your way around the bunker in just a pair of boxers and a tight camouflage vest; his green eyes almost as dark as the fabric on your torso, if his grip on his beer bottle grew any tighter he would have shattered it with ease.

But you didn't seem to care as you draped yourself over Castiel's back, leaning against him with your chest on his back and your arms dangled over his; asking him about the book he was reading. Sam and Jack were in the other room, talking quietly and going through the different ways to kill monsters.

Of course, Dean wanted to say something, to stand up and snap at you and tell you to quit acting like that; but he couldn't. He knew he didn't have any right to.

So he sat there, clenching his jaw and his bottle all the same.

You kept doing it, walking around the bunker in tight, revealing clothes whenever Castiel and Rowena were around, so brazenly flirting with them. Dean fucking hated it.

He had always had his eye on you, ever since his father had introduced you; thanks to Bobby being your "uncle" and raising you when your family were killed by a vampire nest.

It was instant infatuation, and with only two years between you both, you had a lot in common.

Over the years, the more you both met, the more Dean had grown infatuated with you. With you now living at the bunker as well, it was only getting worse.

So much worse.

You came to sit opposite him, legs spread and a soft smile on your lips; you tilted your head to the side, gently taking the bottle from him and taking a purposefully long and slow swig. Dean couldn't take his eyes off of you, licking his lips and doing his best not to just blurt it all out.

But then you passed the bottle back, and stood up about to leave all over again. Dean couldn't risk it, shaking his head.

"Sit down."

"Beg pardon?"

"I said, sit down. We need to talk about whatever the fuck this is between us," he said, almost harsh as he tightly clenched his jaw.

You obliged, daring to sit beside him instead as you leaned back slightly and folded your hands on your stomach. "Dean."

"What's with you?" He asked, his voice low and grumbling. "Flirtin' with Cas, with Rowena - walkin' around in next to nothin'."

You shrugged as you smiled. "It's called having fun and being comfortable."

He didn't seem convinced, eyeing you with great suspicion and leaning back slightly. "Is that it?"

"Why?" You scoffed, playful as you raised your brows. "You jealous?"

He looked away, hoping that it would conceal the small amount of blush on his features but knowing that it would never. "So what?"

"You can just tell me," you told him, your voice a lot more stable, less playful. Almost serious. "You never know, it might even be reciprocated."

Dean glanced your way, debating whether or not he should; it would make things awkward, surely. You and Sam were good friends, after all, and although you had always been closer to Dean, he still felt like it would put a rift between him and his brother.

After all, you were probably the only one who stuck around throughout, and despite everything; you never gave up on either of them, always at their beck and call even when you shouldn't have been.

But then Dean caught your gaze, and his breath hitched in his throat as his eyes went a little wide, his throat suddenly feeling rather dry. He licked his lips, time going by like a massively slowed down heartbeat. Seconds turning to days as he swiped a hand down his face and glared at you.

"It doesn't leave this room," he told you lowly. "You don't tell Cas. Or Sammy."

You nodded, smiling. "Keep things casual?"

He shook his head, daring to sit beside you as he cleared his throat. "I'm thinkin' more in case anythin' happens. Like if you wanna call it quits."

You could understand where he was coming from. It might have gotten awkward otherwise, and then there was the conflict of interest whilst hunting as well - it made sense to keep it a secret from the boys. "What about during hunts? Pretend married couple?"

Dean relaxed a little, seemingly relieved as he held his hand out. "You got it."

You shook his hand, pulling on it gently to bring him closer so that you could look right into his eyes. "It's a deal, partner."

The blush returned to his face, a little darker and a little more prominent on his cheekbones and the tips of his ears and nose as he swallowed hard and audibly.

"Partner? Gotta nice ring to it."

You rolled your eyes, trying not to laugh as you hummed softly and dared to pull him a little closer. "You wanna hash out some details... or do you wanna get to business?"

Immediately, Dean perked up at the suggestion, grinning brightly and nodding slowly as he followed your lead; taking a quick look to make sure no one noticed that you were escaping together. But as you lead him down the hallways, he paused in front of his room. "Mine or yours?"

You considered it for a moment, knowing that your room was a little further down and a little more private - but his was right there, and the temptation was almost too much to actually resist. But you had to be smart, so you tugged his hand gently.

"Mine - more private."

Dean was all too eager to agree, nearly tripping over his own feet as he chased after you in the corridor; laughing softly the second that your bedroom door closed behind him and grabbing you to pull you close.

"You sure?"

You nodded, putting your hands on his shoulders and grinning. "I'm sure."

if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare, maybe donate to Tahani to help her save her children & husband in Gaza 🫶🏻

[suncaptor]

hi! i hope you don't mind me asking, but i need a certified opinion on sam winchester and you seemed like the person to go to :D

could you rec me some good sam-centric fic & character studies? preferably for early seasons or pre-series?

i'm showing spn to a friend and they like sam a lot, but we are both. somewhat afraid to go into the tag lol. so I figured you could have something nice bookmarked or there's maybe a rec list i dont know about.

thanks!

Okay I actually mostly read later seasons Sam stuff (or at least s5+) because the more trauma the better <3 but here are some that are either sam studies that include earlier stuff or earlier/preseries (like kripke era)

DO check trigger warnings! since these are (mostly) pre hell (and I would not read w*) they aren't as bad as some of the sam & lucifer fics I'd share, but some still have different potentially triggering themes (like addiction, suicide, etc, so please just be careful! I'm assuming you can check the tags on ao3 <3)

also some are 18+, not sure your age but I don't personally want my followers talking to me about nsfw content if they are minors. so be wary around that too, but they're all outer links so ao3 will have them rated/stop you etc.

Sam w/ OCD rec list & my old Sam rec list

samjess

Sunlight by sp8ce, samjess

The first time Sam tastes blood it's human blood, and it feels like shame and the closest he has been to truly human wrapped up in one. He's never been so safe and in love. The second time it's electric and consuming. He has nothing left, but the desire to chase the power and hold on to the objective of revenge, only still connected at her touch. The third time, he's pretty sure it will kill him, burn him like purifying light from the inside out. --- An exploration of Sam and consuming blood. This work is the first time: with Jessica Moore.

also if you like samjess sp8ce has later seasons ghost samjess too&lt;3

sam & john

the type who doesn't burn by patrocluus

On a late October afternoon in 1997, John Winchester takes his son out into the woods and puts a bullet between his eyes.

make a mirror out of you by sp8ce - john kills jess (it's john pov though)

The thing about Jessica's death is that it makes Sa,m understand John more than anything else ever could and choose everything John's ever wanted Sam to choose. Azazel always seems to have John's silhouette.

sam / gen or multi

This Is the Way (The World Ends) by Lise

In Georgia hunting a skinwalker, Dean saw Sam. AU. Like, really.

Weblike Causality by sp8ce

Which came first? The fear or the inevitability?

instrument by sp8ce

Sam Winchester grasps with his own personhood.

Polaroid Sun Picture by sp8ce

Sam has been stalked his whole life in order to be manipulated into an instrument of his worst fears. He has no privacy to himself. He has no defence.

therefore I react by sp8ce

for a while, in the cage, all Sam sees is a tree.

(okay so I've tried to not give you any lucifer stuff but this one is a sam & learnt helplessness thesis for connecting past & present)

This Kid's Not Alright by safiyabat

What exactly did Sam get up to at Bobby's while Dean was at Sonny's? When John makes a very odd request of the older hunter, Bobby takes the boy into his home for a few months. It isn't an easy time for either of them.

the easy way out and the hardest part by queenbaskerville

Sam would rather die than be Lucifer's vessel. Lucifer will just resurrect him now, but there was a time before the seals were broken—a time before Sam broke the seals. To save the world, to save Dean—Sam knows what he has to do.

The Special Children by TheMightiestPen

After Dean reveals his Dad’s last words, he asks Sam to lay low for a while. This time, Sam says no. This time, Sam goes all in in his search for the other kids like him. S2 AU, for spnhiatuscreations on tumblr for week 5: favorite season.

sam & dean

Dear Abel by lowkey_existential_despair (it has samjess/early sam&dean basis okay)

It wasn’t always like this, is the thing. There used to be a time when caring about Dean was more than just a habit. There was a time, once, when seeing Dean with demon-black eyes would’ve been the worst thing in the world. But that was a long time ago. Now, he looks at this black-eyed version of Dean—wrapped in layers of chains, in pain, sobbing quietly—and he feels nothing. Nothing at all.

Purify by cenotaphy

"We know what happens when Sam drinks demon blood.

…but what happens when Sam drinks angel blood?"

Set at the end of season 4, before Sam gets out of the panic room.

Hell Fractal by sp8ce

Sam's last real memory is of Dean stabbing him after he let Lucifer out. Sam keeps, with varying levels of memory and awareness, waking up in the panic room. With Dean needing to kill him.

Man-in-the-middle by ambersock (who has some lovely fics <3)

Sam hears the driver’s side door open, hears footsteps approaching. He remembers that Dean still has Ruby’s demon-killing blade. Yet another voicemail fix-it.

The Choice by authoressnebula (authoressjean)

(this author has other early seasons sam&dean stuff)

One gun. One bullet. It's up to Sam and Dean to decide who will shoot the bullet…and who will die.

it’s not that i think i’m good, i know i’m evil by redskyatmorning

(author has good later seasons Sam stuff as well)

The conversation that leads up to Sam ending up in the panic room, again, to detox from demon blood.

Fade Far Away, Dissolve, and Quite Forget by Lise

You've seen isolation before, but not like this. It's not quite another hemisphere, but it's close enough.

Catharsis by BlueIris08

Sam copes with learning of Dean's promise to John in the classic Winchester way--with alcohol. Or, the drunken, angsty post-Croatoan/Hunted scene that didn't happen.

Don't Think Twice, It's All Right by WilsonTheMoose

In which Sam gets beaten up (rookie), Dean mentions the voicemail (idiot), and nothing really changes (figures). Fits into the first episode of season 5. For an anonymous prompt on tumblr asking for Dean hitting Sam in the earlier seasons. This is not quite what you wanted anon, sorry.

yeah, well, i don't want to by AreYouReady

He didn't do it on purpose. / Dean sabotages Jess's warding in pilot

Comets, Stars, Haunted Houses, and Other Things Best Observed from a Hundred Million Miles Away by occasionallyalways

See also: violent deaths; apologies; lightning. Or; Something happened in the panic room. Something went wrong. Dean finds out six years later.

sambrady

One to Save You by sp8ce

If Brady needs Sam, he'll be there immediately.

The Piece You're Missing by sp8ce

Brady can't seem to figure out why Sam won't give up on him. They have a conversation where he tries to dissect and understand why.

Out by TheMightiestPen (also sam&dean)

A god-possessed witch reveals a secret that Sam’s been keeping for a long time. The brothers handle it like mature, well-adjusted adults, for once.

sastiel

Grace (made perfect in weakness) by Sidewoundcore (CherryHollow)

After he is freed from the panic room, Castiel, rather than Ruby, is the first person to find Sam. In the end, it changes nothing at all.

atrophy & other stories by saintsurvivor

early seasons sastiel that is sam centric

Monster by Ginipig (voicemail fic so mostly sam&dean)

After everything that happened between him and Dean with the breaking of the final seal, Sam is having trouble moving on. Dean's weird, sort-of helpful angel friend wants to know why.

Not that it's any of his damned business.

Comfort by Never_x_Better

Sam's being tormented by Lucifer and Castiel just wants to help him. Nightmares, blood addiction, hallucinations, and fluff ends up leading the two friends down an interesting path.

Wishing Is Cold This Year by Lise

Dean has his head rather determinedly up his ass, so it falls to Castiel to take this one. Post 5.03ish.

what did you bury / before those hands pulled me from the earth? by starlightswait

It’s the strangest thing. Sam’s in the Cage. And then he’s not.

(technically post kripke but it's my favourite sastiel &lt;;3)

Ruby Red by sp8ce (also samruby but I don't read or write a lot of samruby)

An exploration of Sam and consuming blood. This work has Sam reminiscing on Ruby. He then has more blood forced upon him by some hunters who think they can purify him. (can be read standalone or in series)

[lucidlivi]

I Can See You (III)

Masterlist/Warning

Tag List: @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @perpetualabsurdity @antisocialcorrupt @heavenlyackles @anixiiee @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @deans-spinster-witch @k-slla @spnbaby-67 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl @ladysparkles78 @rach5ive @deansapplepie @lauraashley93 @hzllxhoundxx @kmc1989 @creative-writing92 @7isaprimenumbr @raisinggray @crystaleatsboys @somekidinacoma (I think this was everyone but it's been awhile and I'm rusty, so sorry guys for making you wait!)

Author Note: I've been wanting to update this one because I had a lot of ideas for where I wanted it to go, sorry I haven't updated as much but I hope this makes up for it and you like it

Recap:

Jensen glared at me, taking a sip of his beer.

"you know what just forget it, why don't you go flirt with some more girls." I scoffed turning to walk away.

"yeah, well why don't you go kiss some more wannabe actors." Jensen growled.

I took a deep breath walking away from him.

I feel that if someone really wants you in their life, they’re gonna show it, not just talk about it, and if their actions don’t match up to their words, I lose interest fast.

Jensen was unbelievable.

If he wanted me, he would show it.

I used to know I wanted him, but now I'm not so sure.

I stomped up the stairs rather dramatically, throwing the door open before slamming it closed.

Who the hell did he think he was?

Just because he was super good looking didn't give him a reason to act like a complete dick. I grabbed my pillow screaming loudly in to it.

I was so frustrated.

He was so frustrating.

I sat on my bed well past midnight contemplating my fight with Jensen.

He had no right to try to ruin my date when he's been the one giving mixed signals. It was fucked up, and fucking with my brain chemistry.

I heard a light knocking on my door bringing me out of my intrusive thoughts. I got up opening the door, disappointment crossed my features when I saw who was standing behind it.

"what the hell do you want?" I grumbled as I glared at the green eyed man I despised at this current moment.

"peace offering." He mumbled before holding up a carton of my favorite ice cream.

Mint Chocolate Chip.

Damn he knows I can't say no to mint chocolate chip ice cream.

No, I can't just forget.

"and you're offering peace because...?" I pressed crossing my arms to indicate to him I was feeling closed off from him.

"because I was wrong."

"about?" I pushed wanting him to elaborate.

"I shouldn't have crashed your date, I was acting like a stupid protective jerk and I'm sorry." He said offering me a sad smile.

Damn.

That face.

He knows I can't say no to that face either.

"yeah you were acting like a jerk, jerk." I said shoving his arm.

I wanted to say more to him, I wanted to ask him why he was acting like that.

Was it because he really didn't like Jeremiah, or because he cared where I was tonight.

I didn't want to get my hopes up with the latter so I settled on he just didn't like Jeremiah.

"did you bring me a spoon?" I asked raising my eyebrows at him.

"brought two." He smiled holding up two metal spoons.

Jensen entered my room sitting down on my bed to spilt ice cream at two in the morning. I giggled as his face contorted from the chill. We sat in silence taking turns stuffing our faces full of ice cream. It wasn't an awkward silence like it would've been with most people. It was comfortable.

"your kind of a pain in the ass you know?" I asked him as our ice cream supply dwindled.

"you know I could say the same thing about you baby moose." Jensen said looking me in the eyes.

"me? hardly." I denied rolling my eyes at him.

"see right there, you think you know everything, but you have no clue." Jensen said whispering the last part.

I had no clue what he was talking about but something told me it had a deeper meaning.

An awkward silence fell between us as my eyes settled back down on the now almost empty carton.

It was as if there were words neither one of us dared to say.

Words that might change everything.

"last bite." Jensen said gesturing the carton towards me.

I dug my spoon in finishing off the ice cream.

"thanks." I whispered not meeting his eyes.

He nodded his head slowly, the awkward tension still building between us.

"thanks for the ice cream and for apologizing." I clarified.

I dared to look in to his eyes but he was already looking in to mine. His eyes traveled from mine down to my lips. I sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes explored my features. I was never insecure but in this moment I felt raw, naked, like he was seeing every single flaw I possessed.

"I uh should go, Jared's making me exercise with him in the morning, and I'll need it after all this ice cream." Jensen said taking the spoons and walking towards the door.

"Jensen wait." I called feeling bold.

He hesitantly turned around, staring at me, waiting for me to continue.

"did you really not?"

"did I not what?"

"did you really not care where I was tonight?" I asked biting my lip a little too hard.

He took a deep breath before turning back towards the door.

"of course I cared."

And with that he walked out, leaving me feeling even more flustered and confused than before.

****************************************************I woke up to a sudden weight on me.

“ugh what time is it?” I groaned squeezing my eyes shut tighter.

“It’s almost noon get your ass up.” Jared said grabbing a pillow and proceeding to hit me with it.

“stop hitting me you ass, I’m up!” I grumbled sitting up and stretching my muscles.

“It’s about damn time, how late did you stay up last night?” Jared asked taking a seat beside me.

At the mention of last night a flood of thoughts came rushing through.

“of course I cared.”

I bit my lip as his words replayed in my head on a continuous loop.

“hello I think I lost my sister can you help me find her?” Jared asked waving a hand in front of my face.

I swatted his hand away causing him to scoff dramatically.

“well I could never lose you cause you’re a giant frizzy haired freak.” I joked sticking my tongue out at him.

I knew it was little things like this that really got under his skin.

“I was trying to have a nice moment and you had to ruin it with the insults.” Jared said once again picking up the pillow.

I quickly bolted out of bed disappearing in to the bathroom with a slam of the door.

I took this moment to look at my reflection in the mirror.

Damn.

I looked rough.

Even my under eye bags had under eye bags.

I quickly hopped in the shower washing away all the stress and anxiety I was feeling. I couldn’t stop thinking about Jensen and whatever this was.

I took my time trying to make myself look decent before descending the stair case to face the boys. I did my best to not make eye contact with Jensen, knowing that his stare alone would be enough to make me crumble.

“wow I think you look worse than this morning.” Jared joked running a hand through my hair that I was just fighting to perfect.

“I feel it.” I said grabbing an apple and some water.

“don’t you two have to film today?” I asked sitting down and finally glancing towards Jensen.

He had his head buried in a newspaper but something tells me he wasn’t actually reading it.

“nope have the next two days off, so what should we do?” Jared asked taking my apple and biting a chunk off of it.

I glared at him before ripping the apple back out of his hands.

I contemplated his question before getting an idea.

“we should throw a party.” I suggested giving a hopeful glance to the guys.

“uh definitely not.” Jared answered quickly.

“c’mon let’s have some fun moose.” I pleaded giving him my famous puppy dog eyes.

“I actually think it’s a great idea.” Jensen said finally looking up from the newspaper.

I could tell Jared was still on the fence.

“I mean I have to experience all Canada has to offer right?” I pleaded again.

Jared sighed in defeat rolling his eyes.

“fine but I’m doing the guest list.” Jared grumbled.

“can I invite Jeremiah?” I asked knowing it would drive Jensen insane.

“NO.”

“Yes.”

Jensen and Jared answered at the same time.

“you heard Jared he’s in charge of the guest list.” I said giving Jensen a smirk.

I walked back upstairs deciding to tidy up my room for the party, not that I planned on anyone being in it but still it needed done. I spent the next few hours tidying up the house while the boys got supplies i.e. alcohol for the party.

Once I was satisfied with my cleaning job I went upstairs to freshen up. I put on a simple gold party dress. I was smoothing out my dress when I heard a knock on my door.

“it’s open.” I called staring at my reflection in the mirror.

I heard Jensen timidly enter the room.

“uh Jared wanted me to tell you people were arriving.” Jensen said as his eyes traveled up and down my form.

“thanks be right down.” I said offering him a smile.

Instead of walking away Jensen took a step closer standing behind me.

I couldn’t deny we looked good together.

It was as if we were lost in a trance just staring at our reflections in the mirror. I was about to say something when someone clearing their throat snapped us out of our trance.

I peeked over seeing Jeremiah rubbing his neck nervously.

“sorry Jared told me I could find you here.”

I quickly stepped away from Jensen making my way towards him.

“no it’s okay I’m glad you’re here.” I said offering him a smile.

Was I really though?

What?

No of course I was.

Shut up intrusive thoughts.

Jeremiah leaned in pecking me on the lips. I swear I could hear the scoff leave Jensen’s lips.

“uh i’m going to go.” Jensen growled pushing past us.

“no yeah we should all go downstairs.” I said nervously playing with my fingers.

“lead the way then.” Jeremiah smiled, taking my hand in his.

I heard the music blasting through the speakers as we walked downstairs. Our living room was now full of people. I saw Jared hastily walking around offering people drinks and snacks. I laughed at how uptight he could be sometimes. I walked over to him grabbing the tray from his hands. I pulled off a glass of what appeared to be whiskey.

“I think you need this.” I laughed holding it in front of his face.

“are you crazy I can’t drink.” Jared said going to grab the glass but I pulled it away from him.

“why not, Jensen is.” I said gesturing to where Jensen was talking with a guy I didn’t know while slowly sipping on a beer.

“someone has to host.” Jared said matter of factly.

“I will, I mean the party was my idea after all.”

Jared looked at me unsure. I gave him the glass urging him to throw it back. He rolled his eyes before downing the whiskey. I in turn handed him another.

I assumed hosting duties offering drinks to strangers I had barely met. I watched as Jared and Jensen interacted with friends. Jeremiah stayed close to my side finishing off a couple beers.

I was never a big drinker.

Now don’t get me wrong I could put away a few glasses of wine but not like these people.

“I’m going to use the bathroom, be right back.” Jeremiah whispered in my ear.

I nod watching him disappear down the hall. I noticed the drinks getting low. I turned around to make my way in to the kitchen but instead collided with a hard chest.

“easy there baby moose, had to much to drink already did you?” Jensen teased.

“hardly, I see you’re still nursing that same beer.” I said gesturing to the bottle he’s had in his hand since the beginning of the party.

“yeah well one of us has to be sober and it’s not Jared.” Jensen said nodding his head towards Jared.

He was unstable on his feet as he was dancing to the music with his shirt over his head. I quickly got my phone out snapping a picture of him. 

“oh this is going to be great for the christmas card.” I laughed taking another from a different angle.

“are you having fun?” Jensen questions.

“I guess, you?”

“I hate parties.” Jensen admitted running a hand down the back of his neck.

“wait then why did you say you thought this was a good idea?” I asked staring at him.

Jensen leaned in his lips hovering just above my ear.

“I was hoping to get a moment alone with you.”

I felt the heat rush to my face.

It felt as if I was fully ignited as his breath fanned across my face.

I was about to respond when I saw Jeremiah coming back from the bathroom. Jensen must’ve saw him to for he disappeared just as quick as he came.

“you okay?” Jeremiah asked.

I nodded my head maybe a little too quickly not trusting my voice.

“It’s uh kind of loud here, want to hang in your room?” Jeremiah asked.

I was so flustered by what Jensen said I wasn’t really listening but reluctantly shook my head yes. Jeremiah grabbed my hand pulling me up the stairs. As soon as we were behind closed doors he attached his lips to mine. I kissed him back out of habit.

It’s said that when a person is right for you, you’ll feel it in the kiss.

I felt nothing with Jeremiah.

It was stale, lacked passion.

Jeremiah moved his lips from mine down to my neck. He brought a hand up cupping my breast. I quickly put my hand on his chest pushing him away.

“I uh don’t think that’s a good idea.” I said biting my lip nervously.

“why not?”

“cause you’ve had a lot to drink and you’re not thinking straight.” I said standing my ground.

“but I thought you liked me.” He frowned.

I don’t.

Shut up brain.

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I want to have sex with you, I mean we barely know each other.” I elaborated.

“then let’s get to know each other..” Jeremiah said taking a step closer and kissing my jaw once more.

“let’s get to know each other’s bodies.” He said causing me to once again shove him off.

“No.” I said firmly this time.

He was about to respond when the door was thrown open, an angry Jensen standing behind it.

“I believe she said no, I also believe you have about five seconds to get the hell out of my house before I throw you down the steps.” Jensen growled clenching his fists.

Jeremiah scoffed looking at me once more.

“I forgot you need permission for everything.” Jeremiah jabbed before pushing past Jensen and retreating from the house.

“don’t come back!” I called after him.

I sat down on the bed waiting for the lecture that was about to come from Jensen. He didn’t move from the doorway. He was breathing hard, almost as if he was shaking with anger.

“well..”

“well what?” he snapped.

“aren’t you going to say you told me so?”

“I did tell you.” He growled.

“I didn’t even care about him okay.” I scoffed standing up so I was now facing Jensen.

“then why the hell were you with him?” Jensen asked taking another step forward.

“maybe because he actually acted on his feelings instead of just talked about them.” I jabbed.

Jensen glared at me before roughly cupping my cheek and crashing his lips on to mine.

I was frozen in shock but only momentarily. I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck, before moving my lips against his. 

I felt nothing when kissing Jeremiah.

But with Jensen…

I felt everything.

He leaned down pressing his lips harder against mine.

I didn’t miss the way he slyly slipped his tongue in deepening the kiss. It felt like we were the only two people on the earth, and time was standing still. Jensen was the first to pull away taking a much needed breath.

“you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Jensen whispered leaning his forehead against my own.

“I think we’re just drunk.” I said not believing this moment was actually real, actually happening to me.

Jensen contorted his eyebrows in confusion.

“I’m not drunk, are you drunk?”

“Nope.”

Jensen smiled before reconnecting our lips. 

It was magical and more than I could’ve ever imagined.

If only there wasn’t something standing in our way.

Jared.

Author Note: hi guys! sorry it took me so long to update but I really hope you like it! xoxoxo Liv

[itscaptaint]

Good Vibrations

Pairing: Dean x reader

warnings: smut, cheesy writing, masturbation, Dean being too hot to handle

You had taken a solo case again to try and clear your mind a little bit. Living in the bunker had been great, but the alone time was pretty sparse…especially with the eldest Winchester sleeping right down the hall. 

Sam knew you had been harboring a crush on his brother for years and just wouldn't act on it because you didn't want to ruin your friendship. Dean was your best friend. Hell, he was basically just the male version of you. You were two peas in a pod. One night, the three of you had gotten blitzed after a bad vamp hunt and Sam had put the pieces together. You couldn't stop flirting with Dean, he had lingering glances towards you, it was obvious as hell to Sam, just not to either you or Dean. So you both just ignored it and went on as if there was nothing there. 

That's why a solo hunt was much needed. The sexual frustration was getting to be too much. And you knew you couldn't handle spending one more night alone with the man you wanted to jump just down the hall. If you took a case, that meant an empty motel room, a stranger from a bar and hopefully a little release to get you through for a bit. You didn't think you needed to leave too many details for the boys, just enough to know you were working and we're safe. So you left a note…

Headed out for a few days, helping out an old friend with a case in Denver, I'll call if I need rescuing.

It was a perfectly good note, at least you thought it was. Sam did too. But Dean didn't. 

"What the fuck is this?" Dean growled from the other end of the phone. 

"Well hello to you too, Dean," you chirped as you were walking into your motel room for the night. "I guess you saw my note?"

"Yeah I see the fucking note. Why didn't you ask for help?"

"Dude, I took care of it," you sighed, sitting down on your bed. "I'll be back tomorrow." 

You could tell from the tone of his voice he was more frustrated than pissed. He hated when you got hurt and couldn't do anything about it. "What if you needed help? What if you got hurt?" 

"I told you, Dean, I'm fine. Perfectly good condition. I just needed some alone time."

"Alone time?" Dean questioned. "So you decided that meant you were going to go hunting solo without backup?"

Now you are getting frustrated. He knew you could handle yourself, so why is he all concerned now? 

"Dean," you sigh. You were so tired and just wanted to sleep and take care of some personal business since the bar was a total bust. "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself, and I needed some time away from-" you started to say. 

"From what, Y/n?" 

"Good night, Dean," you sighed, hung up and turned the phone off so you couldn't be bothered for the rest of the night. Once the phone was off, you showered, changed into one of Dean's old flannels he knew you had stolen but never made a fuss over, and then gave yourself a pretty damn good orgasm thinking of Dean before falling asleep. 

When you woke in the morning, you had forgotten the phone was off, so when you plugged it in for the drive home, it automatically turned on. And started buzzing with missed texts and calls from Dean. Typically when you drive on long trips the phone rests.on your thigh so it doesn't fall between the seats or clunk around the cup holders. Sometimes it ends up between your legs and you've never thought anything of it…until now. 

You reach down, send a quick text to the boys letting them know you'll be back in a few hours, then put the phone right back on your leg so it's out of the way, but handy if needed in an emergency. About 10 minutes later it starts vibrating. You look and see that it's Dean. You just told him you were on your way home and don't feel like arguing while driving so you just let it keep ringing and go to voicemail. The last vibration of your phone that was notifying you of a missed call moves the phone just enough so that it slides down between your thighs. At least it won't fall on the floor. 

A few more minutes pass and you feel the phone start vibrating again, but this time it's right on the seam on your jeans between your legs and is sending a slight tingle to your core. You know it's Dean again so you refuse to answer and let it ring through. By the time it's done ringing, you realize that the vibration of the phone against your crotch has got you slightly turned on. 

"Son of a bitch," you mumble to yourself. "That mother fucker has me getting horny and he's not even here."

Dean calls you 7 more times before you get back to the bunker. You ignored all the calls simply for the fact that you'd been wanting Dean to make you feel good for years and it was finally happening. You don't see the Impala in the garage and decide to enjoy some peace and quiet before heading inside. No Impala, no Dean around. And no Dean around meant a perfect time to fantasize over the man that had been accidentally edging you the whole way home. 

You turn the engine off, close your eyes, lean your head back against the headrest. You let your hands wander to the place Dean had been torturing the whole ride home. It didn’t take long to finish since you were already hot and bothered and probably a good thing too since the rumble of the Impala startled you into alertness. Fuck you Winchester. Can’t even enjoy the post-orgasm bliss. You get out of the car and grab your things from the trunk. As you're reaching up to close it, Dean is at your side closing it for you. 

"You ignoring my calls, y/n?"

"Obviously," you sigh, rolling your eyes and heading inside. 

"You could have gotten hurt by yourself, why didn't you ask for help?!" Dean chases after you. 

"I'm a big girl, Dean. I can take care of myself," you shout, turning the corner to head to your room. "In more ways than one," you mumble under your breath thinking Dean was out of earshot. 

"What did you just say?” Dean interrogates, grabbing your shoulder and turning you around to face him. 

“I can take care of myself, Dean. You know that,” you say, standing a bit taller. You were in a slightly better mood after easing your frustration but still not as calm as you should be. “Now, if you would let go, I would like to shower and enjoy a day off.”

Dean rolls his eyes and releases your shoulder. “Fine. But next time I’m coming.”

“Mmhm,” you smirk and slowly shut your door. If only you were both cumming…

……….

It’s been three days since you’ve been back from your solo hunt and every little thing Dean has done has turned you on. It’s like he doesn’t know how to turn it off. You passed him in the hallway after a shower with just his towel on and wanted to just tear it from his body. The way he sipped his beer made you wish his lips and tongue were on your overly sensitive clit making you scream his name. He was even making you horny as he was mixing up the ground beef with his bare hands for burger night. Dear lord how you wished he would manhandle you the way he was dealing with your dinner.

“Alright,” you sigh, sliding your chair out from the table. “I’m headed out.” You needed a night out of the bunker. Dean’s been causing all sorts of sexual frustration and you were hoping there’d be someone at the bar to help ease the need. 

“Wait, let me grab my jacket,” Dean chirps. 

Well fuck me then. How am I supposed to get laid now with Captain Cock Block joining me. Might as well invite Sam too. You head down the hall to the library where Sam had been eating. “You wanna go to the bar with Dean and me?” Sam kind of just grunted, clearly really focused on whatever he’s reading on his laptop. “Maybe you could keep him occupied so I can get laid by a total stranger?” Sam chokes on his beer. That got his attention. 

“Seriously, Y/n?” You just shrug your shoulders and smile real big hoping it convinces him to join. “Why can’t you two just-”

“You comin’ Sammy?!” Dean practically skips around the corner. 

“He’s being a party pooper,” You stick your tongue out like a kindergartener at Sam and make a mental note to use real eggs for his breakfast tomorrow instead of just egg whites. “Let’s go. You’re driving.”

About 4 beers and 3 shots in, you decide to abort your mission for the night. Usually Dean is the one looking for a hook-up, but he doesn’t seem interested in any of the women throwing themselves at him tonight. And unfortunately, no good prospects for you either. "What do you say we take this party home and get roaring drunk in the library?" You suggest sliding out of the booth. 

"Deal." 

By the time you get back to the bunker, Dean has already decided that a drinking game was a must. Turns out his idea of a drinking game was just asking each other super personal questions, and if an answer was refused, it was time for another shot. You were up first. 

"So Dean," you say, stroking your invisible beard to appear as if you have to think real hard about this question. Little does he know you're pulling out the big guns right away. Helps that you've have a little liquid courage to loosen the tongue. "What's your favorite sex toy?" 

"Damn, y/n, you can't even ease into it, can ya," he chuckled. 

Before you can process what you were saying "That's what she said" came flying out of your mouth. 

"Jesus Christ," Dean gives a full belly laugh. "Well if you must know, I'm a simple man. Handcuffs, blindfolds, headphones, ya know…" 

"Simple, huh?" You smirk, pouring yourself another glass of tequila. You knew you were probably going to regret the drink of choice tomorrow, but oh well. 

"Never had a complaint about my simplicity before," he winks, tipping his glass in my direction. 

You could feel your face heating up, but you weren't sure if it were from embarrassment, jealousy or the fact that you knew this night would end in one of your favorite solo missions. "Alright, pretty boy," you huff, sliding deeper into your chair. "Hit me with your best shot." 

Dean doesn't even have to think about his question. "What's your favorite guilty pleasure song?" 

Wow, that was a tame one. You were really thinking he was about to hit you with something deep and raunchy. "Is it still considered a guilty pleasure if I tell you?" You question.

"Well, darling, you don't have to tell me but then it's a full tequila shot for you." 

"Fine. It's Cut to the Feeling by Carly Rae Jepson," you nod, proud of your answer. 

The questions that followed from each of you were silly and personal, but nothing wild. The "game" aspect went out the window an hour ago when Dean polished off his whiskey and you only had a few sips of Tequila left. You told Dean it was bedtime, and since you started the night, he got the final question. 

"You ever been so turned on that you came without a man even touching you?" 

"Only once," you sigh thinking of that time Dean had you all hot and bothered from the excessive phone calls on your way home earlier that week. 

"Oh I'm gonna need details on this one," Dean says, sitting up a little taller in his chair, placing his elbows on the table. You hadn't realized it but he was staring so deep into your soul just now that even though you wanted to call him out and tell him that the game was over and that wasn't a question, you couldn't. There are two ways this is going to go: it’s either going to end in you feeling more embarrassed than you’ve ever felt before, or it’s going to get you what you’ve wanted for a long time. 

You throw back the last little bit of tequila in your glass, prop your chin in your hands making eye contact with Dean and then utter the three words that will either make or break this night. “Eight missed calls.” You continue staring at Dean, a look of confusion on his face.

 He tips his chin upwards, squints and sports his best thinking face. “What about missed calls?”

“It’s truly amazing what a cell phone vibration can do for a girl,” you sigh and stand up, slowly making your way over behind Dean’s chair. He was still thinking about what you said and was trying to put the pieces together. You weren’t sure what just got into you but the thought of Dean making you feel really fucking good - and hopefully from his own touch this time - had you feeling bold. You pull out your phone and lay it down in front of him, showing your missed call log from the other day. Eight missed calls, all from him. You don’t say a word as you take a seat on the edge of the table, your thighs just inches from Dean’s hands. 

Dean didn’t need to audibly respond. You can see him take a breath in and slowly lift his gaze to meet yours. A wave of panic hit, hoping he wouldn’t give you his pity eyes. But his eyes were different. Before, they were filled with mischief and fun, now they were dark and just filled with pure lust and determination. It was a look you had been wanting to see aimed at you for a long time. You return his gaze and your breath hitches ever so slightly that he can hear the small, excited tremble. Dean’s hand reaches out and rests on your thigh. The man has barely touched you and you are already wet for him. You needed him right now and Chuck be damned if he didnt want you too with that look in his eyes. 

You reach out and cup his cheek. “Wanna see what happens when you’re actually touching me?”

“You’re fucking killing me, Y/n,” Dean groaned yanking you onto his lap and crashing his lips to yours. 

It was a sloppy kiss and you were both fighting for dominance. Dean’s hands found your waist and were already sliding your shirt up and over your breasts. You release your hands from being tangled in his hair just long enough to dispose of the trapping garment. Before the shirt hits the ground, Dean has one nipple between his teeth making you throw your head back, pressing your chest closer to him.

“Mmm, you like that?” He mutters, switching over to the other wanting breast. 

Instead of answering, you just grind down deeper onto his lap. You can tell he’s already hard and enjoying this as much as you. He brings his head back up to yours, finding your lips again allowing his hands to grip your waist and set you back on the table. Dean stands to get closer to you and you take advantage and rid him of the flannel you had been wanting to see on the floor alongside yours all night. Once shirtless, you just stare. “Like what you see? Because I know I do,” Dean smirks, diving back into you, this time reaching for the button of your jeans. You lay back and lift your hips to easily get rid of the pants that you felt were holding you hostage. 

The table was cold on your naked ass, but worth it. Dean peppers greedy kisses starting from your neck all the way down until he reaches the crease of your hip before stopping to look up at you. “Last time I made you cum, was it with my mouth, my hands or my cock?” 

Even just his words were making you squirm beneath his touch. “Well, Dean, if you must know, it was all of the above.” 

“Oh baby, then we’re making that happen again tonight. Gotta make sure I see it this time.”

His last words barely a grunt before he delves into your wet folds with his tongue immediately finding your clit. You can hear how wet you are against Dean’s mouth and know this won’t take long. Dean’s teeth latch onto your clit as he slides two fingers into you and begins stroking quickly. He’s a man on a mission and knows how to get what he wants, and Dean wants you to cum…hard. It doesn’t take much longer before you are completely screaming his name, shaking and dripping all over his mouth and hand. 

You barely have time to come down off your high before he tears his own pans off and is sliding his cock into you. “Oh my god, you feel so much better than I imagined,” you groan, falling back onto your elbows. 

“Y/n, I never want you to have to imagine the feeling of me again,” he said, thrusting as hard as he could. “You’re getting the real deal from here on out.” Dean continued thrusting until you could feel his rhythm falter. You knew he was close, as were you. 

“Dean I’m so close, please make me cum again,” you beg, reaching your hands to your breasts for something to hold on to. 

“Fuck, Y/N. Are you trying to kill me?” He groans with a final thrust sending both of you over an edge you didn’t think was possible reach. 

After you both catch your breath, Dean pulls you back up into his chest for a sweet kiss. When you pull away, he’s just smiling. 

“Why are you so happy Winchester?” 

“Because I think I won the game.” 

You just shake your head and hop off the table and start to head towards your bedroom leaving your clothes all over the library. “Woah, where are you going?” Dean throws his hands up looking like a lost child at the mall.

“To change my phone ringtone to Good Vibrations,” you shout back, before stopping and turning to look at him. “And to prep for round two.”

[dw19791967]

That Feeling Part 1

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual), OFC Tyler

Warnings: language, unrequited love, angst, unwanted kissing.

Trigger Warning: This fic contains unwanted kissing, if that could be triggering for you I would skip out on this one. It is based on some experiences I have had in real life.

*All mistakes are my own!

Sorry for being gone for so long! Had a lot going on. This is going to be part one of a new series. I have no plan of when I am posting and I don't want to make promises I may not be able to keep. Thank you all for your support and love.

-Layla

____________________________

“And where are you off to this evening?” Dean asked me while sitting in the library. 

I went in there to grab my jacket. I figured he would be in his room or out at this point. 

“Going to meet up with a friend, you don’t know them.” I looked at him with a smile on my face. 

Ok, there is a good chance he is going to ask who, what, when, and where. He would never admit it but he was a little over protective of me as I was of him. He and Sam were the first people I had bonded with in forever when we had met two years ago. Sam was a loveable teddy bear, the big brother I had always dreamed of having. Dean….he was different. His cocky attitude, his smile, I knew I was doomed. I knew he would never see me as anything more than a friend so I hid my feelings deep down. I tried to find other ways to occupy my mind instead of dreaming of the perfect life with the older Winchester. That was hard. 

“How did you meet them and where are you going?” Dean didn’t look up from his book. 

“Well it’s a long story but we grew up in the same town and he knew I was living in Kansas now so he wanted to meet up. He’s in town on a business trip. I haven’t talked to anyone from there since I was 16 so I thought it might do me some good to see an old friend. We are meeting at the bar not too far from here but far enough.” I felt like I had to justify myself. Why does he make me nervous?

“Do you need me to go with you?” He finally looked at me. God those eyes. 

“No, I’m a big girl plus I have my knife in my purse if things go sideways which I highly doubt they will. He’s a good guy Dean, don't worry.” I grabbed my jacket and patted him on the shoulder. 

“Sweetheart I will always worry especially when I know you always try to see the good in people.” He went to stand.

I rolled my eyes. “I promise I will be careful, my location is on and you know I will leave if he tries anything.” I grabbed my purse and started heading to the door. 

He grabbed my arm. “Please be careful.” 

“You know I will.” I smiled at him.

_____________________________________________

I was waiting in the bar. I wasn’t nervous before but now I am. The fact that Dean was worried about me was nothing new but it gave me a weird feeling. Nothing bad of course, just a feeling that maybe he does care for me as more than a friend. 

My thinking was distracted when I heard my name called. “Y/N?” 

“Hey, Tyler! How are you?” I stood to give the man a hug.

“I’m doing great, damn you look good.” He winked at me. 

I smiled awkwardly, “Well thanks!” I moved to sit down again. 

“So how have you been?” Tyler asked.

“You know, same old same old, still same job nothing new going on really. What about you?” I suddenly felt nervous. 

“Oh nothing new with me either, hey do you want to get out of here we could drive around for a bit. It’s kinda loud in here.” Tyler moved to stand.

“I guess we can.” I moved to stand as well. 

It wasn’t until we were outside and getting into his car that I felt more nervous than I did before. He drove around and we talked for a bit. Then he pulled off into a field. 

My hunter senses were going off now. What is happening?

“Y/N” Tyler said. 

I looked at him, the next thing I knew he was kissing me. What the actual hell. 

“Please don’t” I said as I pushed him off of me. I got out of the car. 

“Woah hey where ya going?” He got out after me. 

“Listen I don’t know if I gave you the wrong impression or something but I was not ok with that. I thought we were friends?” I asked. I was holding it together fairly well and trying not to cry. 

“Well I just figured since we have known each other for a while now and you were kinda flirty in some of our messages this is where we were headed.” He smiled at me. 

“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression but that was not my intention. I would really like it if you could take me back to my car now.” I hugged my jacket together around me. 

“I’m sorry for doing that. I figured it would be no big deal to you.” He moved closer to me. 

I backed up. 

“It was. You can go, I’ll walk to the road and call an uber.” I am scared now. 

“Y/N please I’m sorry, let’s just talk about this.” 

“It’s ok, just please go ok? I’ll message you later.” I started walking towards the road. 

He got in his car and peeled out of there. Thank the Lord he left.

 Oh God, what happened? How could I be so stupid? Dean is going to be pissed at me.

I pulled my phone out of my purse. Dean had texted me. 

Dean: 

Why are you in a field?

Are you ok?

I’m on my way.

I sat down to wait. I never expected that to happen….

_____________________________________________

I had been sitting there for around five minutes when I heard the roar of Baby.

My head was down when he got out of the car. 

“Sweetheart?” Dean approached me slowly.

He knelt down to me. “Hey, what happened?”

I  broke. I leapt into his arms and began to sob. I am such an idiot. 

I looked up at him, “I’m so sorry.” I continued to cry.

“Hey hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. Look at me Y/N.” 

I looked at him. He had tears in his eyes.

“Let’s go home ok?” He stood back up. He reached his arm out to help me stand. 

We drove back to the bunker in silence. He held my hand the whole time. I had stopped crying at this point and went into auto pilot mode. 

We walked into the bunker. “How about you go get changed and I’ll meet you in my room, ok?” 

I nodded at him.

I went down the hallway and to the bathroom. I decided a shower was a good idea to wash away the shame I had. What girl doesn’t realize when a guy is going to come onto her, what girl freaks out when a guy kisses her. I guess this girl. 

I was drying off when I heard a knock on the bathroom door. I heard Dean speak “Hey I left your pj’s and stuff out here. I’ll head to my room while you get changed.” 

He was being sweet. Of course he was. He knew I needed him right now. How he could always tell, I don’t know how. 

I got changed then headed to his room. He was sitting on his bed, he moved over when he saw me and opened his arms. 

I laid down and let him hold me. I began to cry again. 

“He kissed me Dean.” I cried into his chest. 

He knew why I had issues, we had discussed that before. 

“It’s ok sweetheart, I’m here.” He kissed my head.

“I just don’t understand, we were friends, we had never discussed anything more. Hell, I've only talked to him for a few months now. I should have known better when he wanted to meet up randomly. God I’m an idiot.”

“You are not an idiot Y/N. You didn’t know. He’s the one at fault, not you.” 

“Who freaks out over someone kissing them, that’s not normal!” I looked up at him. 

“Y/N, it shocked you. You weren’t expecting it and he should have asked in my opinion. Especially if there was no hint of the night going in that direction.”

“I’m just crazy. No one is ever going to love me and at this point I don’t even know if I could handle it. I’m a mess.” 

“You are not crazy! Don’t say that about yourself. You are going to find the guy of your dreams some day, someone who takes it one day at a time on your terms, I promise. And if you are a mess, what am I?” He looked down at me. 

“You are my amazing best friend. I should have taken your talk as a hint of how the night was going to go.” I sighed. 

“You didn’t know sweetheart, and like I said you always try to see the good in people even when I don’t think you should. I was so worried. Especially when I saw you were in some random ass field. That guy is an ass and I would like to punch the son of a bitch in the face. I’m just thankful he didn’t try to do anything more. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you Y/N.” 

“I know Dean and I’m sorry. I am going to look into talking to a counselor. I think that could help. Thank you for coming, for saving me.” I sat up and kissed his cheek. 

He looked at me. Really looked at me. There it was, that feeling. The feeling of being scared about how much I cared about him. What scared me even more was how much I needed him. 

“I will always save you sweetheart, always.”

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch: Dean Winchester x fem! reader

Description: When Dean gets a call from a friend the boys and Y/N go to investigate a plane that crashed under mysterious circumstances.

Warnings: cannon violence, talk of plane crashes, demons, exorcism, reference to sexual themes (but nothing sexual happens at all like not even a little bit), comfort, aerophobia, one bed trope 🤨

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld, @okayiamkassandra, @fablesrose

Word count: 7,792

Authors note: I am so so sorry this took forever to get out, and i’m not even that happy with the turn out at least for some parts of this chapter. I will be working harder to make it better, please let me know what you guys think: criticism is welcome

The Phantom Traveler

(Masterlist, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter)

The sound of the door opening along with movement beside me wakes me from my sleep. My eyes flicker open slowly only to be met with Dean prompt on one arm practically leaning over me with his hand underneath his pillow.

“Morning, Sunshine!” I hear Sam’s voice call out.

I rub my eyes, turning my head towards Sam’s voice who’s standing in the doorway with a tray of drinks and a baggy of something.

“Hi Sammy” I responded lightly, still adorned with sleep.

“What time is it?” Dean asks him. Which reminds me of the fact that we slept in the same bed the night before, there was only one room left and we were all too tired to go looking for another motel so Dean suggested I bunk with him. And it’s not like we hadn’t slept together growing up, whether on purpose or during a movie.

“Uh, it’s about five forty-five.” Sam answers, kicking his shoes off.

“In the morning?” Dean asks again.

“Yep” Sam answers simply.

“It’s too early” I grumble, sinking further into the hoodie I had worn to bed.

Dean huffs a laugh, “Where does the day go?” He sits up leaning on the headboard, “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours.” Sam responds.

“Liar. 'Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial.” Dean confronts.

“Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV.” Sam reasons.

“Lying again!” I add, still lying down.

Dean looks down at me before looking back at Sam, “When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?”

“I don't know, a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal.” Sam shrugs.

“Yeah, it is.” Dean answers and I nod my head in agreement, well the best I can nod lying down.

“Look, I appreciate your concern—“ Sam started getting cut off by Dean, “Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp.” Dean lies, he is most definitely worried.

But Sam just shrugs. So Dean pushes further, “Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?”

Sam crosses the room, sitting on the other bed, handing Dean two drinks. I sit up quickly taking my drink from Dean as Sam responds, “Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job. Man, it gets to you.”

“You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that.” Dean tells him, taking a sip of his drink that is most definitely coffee.

“So, what? All this it...never keeps you up at night?” Sam asks, leaning forward.

Dean shakes his head.

“Y/N?” Sam asks.

“Yeah…It does. I mean you can try to not let it bother you but it’s not so simple, not healthy either” I take a deep breath, “Man, we need therapy”, looking down at my cup instead of confronting the boys directly. I take a careful sip from my drink, hot chocolate, making a mental note to thank Sammy for it.

“Exactly. So Dean, really you’re never afraid? Never?”

“No, not really.” Dean replies the same answer.

Sam gives him a look reaching under Dean's pillow, pulling out a large hunting knife holding it up as evidence.

I almost spit out my drink, “When did you put that there!”

Dean takes the knife back, looking between Sam and I as he spoke, “That's not fear. That is precaution. And also when you went to change in the bathroom”

“All right, whatever. I'm too tired to argue.” Sam answers, leaning back on his hand while the other holds his drink (also probably coffee).

“Amen.” I add, focusing on my drink now.

Suddenly Dean’s phone rings, he answers it almost immediately.

“Hello?

…

Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?

…

What is it?”

The conversation ends quickly and Dean explains that some guy he helped a while back named Jerry Panowski needed our help.

We change and pack up our things, heading out to this Jerry guy.

“Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out.” Jerry, a short guy who’s balding, speaks

“Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?” Sam asks him, causing a random guy to call back a response, “Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.”

Jerry snapped at the worker, “Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking.” He sighs continuing, “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?”

“Yeah, I was. I'm—taking some time off.” Sam stammered.

“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.” Jerry answered.

“He did?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?” Jerry asks.

“He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now.” Dean responds, coming up with a quick lie.

“Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam and, uh, Y/N right? More than an even trade, huh?”

Dean laughs and I nod my head in conformation on the name bit.

“Well anyways I got something I want you guys to hear.” He leads us into his office nearby.

“I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley.” Jerry explains putting a CD into a drive.

“Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.” He presses play

“Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britania 2485—immediate instruction help! United Britanis 2485, I copy your message—May be experiencing some mechanical failure…” The recording ends with a loud whooshing sound.

“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.” Jerry explains further.

“You don't think it was?” Sam asks him.

“No, I don't.” He answers simply.

“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors.” Sam informs him.

“And would it be possible for us to take a look at the wreckage” I add on asking.

“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage...fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.” Jerry tells us, and despite not being able to see the wreckage he’s extremely helpful. What a kind man.

“No problem.” Dean frowns.

Sam and I wait outside a Copy Jack for Dean, already having waited for maybe forty-five mins. Dean finally exits.

“You've been in there forever.” Sam complains and I nod in agreement.

“You can't rush perfection.” Dean smiles holding up three ID’s, fake ones at that.

Dean hands us our respected ID’s with a fake name, fake information but actual photos of us.

“Homeland Security? That's pretty illegal, even for us.” Sam comments, looking at his ID badge.

“Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times.” Dean reasons, rounding the car to get in.

“It’s not like you haven’t been FBI Agents” I remarked as I got into the car.

“I get it. We’re criminals.” Sam responded monotone.

“Yeah we are!” I celebrate.

Sam huffs a laugh, an almost disappointing laugh.

“All right, so, what do you got?” Dean asks, changing the subject.

“Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder.” Sam answers.

“Yeah?” Dean asks.

“Listen.” Sam plays the tape, which he had edited to pull out a scratchy voice, “No survivors!”

“"No survivors"? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.” Dean questions.

“Maybe there wasn’t meant to be any survivors and it could be going back to, you know, uh, take care of them” I suggest.

“Maybe.” Sam adds. The car went quiet as if the boys were going over the possibilities in their heads.

Dean breaks the silence, “Are you thinking a haunted flight?”

“There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers. Remember flight 401?” Sam informs.

“Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.” Dean answers.

“Right. So maybe we got a similar deal.” Sam adds.

“All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?” Dean asks.

“Third on the list: Max Jaffey.”

“Why him?”

“Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did.” Sam lists out.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I spoke to his mother. And she told me where to find him.”

Max walks with a cane slightly in front of us, having joined him in the garden of the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital.

“I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security.” He tells us.

“Well, some new information came up. So we’d just like to ask you a couple of questions.” I answer softly.

“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything...unusual?” Sam adds jumping right into the questions.

“Like what?” He asks.

“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices.” Dean lists out.

“No, nothing.” Max answers, though not very convincingly.

“Mr. Joffey—“ Dean began getting cut off,

“Jaffey.” Max corrects.

“Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?” Dean asks and Max nods.

“Can I ask why?” Dean pushes.

“I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash.” Max answered simply.

“Uh huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?” Dean presses further.

“I...I don't want to talk about this anymore.” Max stammers. But Dean keeps pressing, “See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what.”

“No. No, I was...delusional. Seeing things.” Max answers, eyes wide.

“It's okay. Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please.” Sam offers, going the much nicer way.

“There was...this—man. And, uh, he had these...eyes—these, uh...black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him...

He opened the emergency exit. But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.” Max explains, tripping over his words.

“This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?” Sam asks.

“What are you, nuts?” Says the guy who believes he was delusional and needed to check himself into a psychiatric hospital.

“He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.”

Our questions ended soon after we got the name of the passenger in front of Max.

The Impala pulls up in front of his house.

“Here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C.” Sam announces.

“Man, I don't care how strong you are. Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight.” Dean announces as we get out of the car.

“Opening the door while the plane is at an altitude of 10,000 or more, is impossible. I mean that’s an added 24,000 pounds of pressure, to a door that’s already on average 34 pounds, as a result of air pressure.” I inform, reciting something I had read.

Both boys turn to me with a questioning look, “I like fun facts” I shrug.

“Well that would be possible if you weren’t human. So maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form.” Sam suggested.

Dean deadpans, looking at Sam, “Does that look like a creature's lair to you?”

Sam looks at the house, an ordinary white paneled home,and then back at Dean shrugging.

Sam rings the doorbell, a woman with shoulder length brown hair invites us in.

“This is your late husband?” Sam asks Mrs. Phelps, picking up a frame photo of a brunette man.

“Yes, that was my George.” She answers sniffling.

“And you said he was a...dentist?” Dean confirms

“Mm-hm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that…” Mrs.Phelps admits.

“How long were you married for?” I ask.

“Thirteen years.” She smiles sadly.

“In all that time, did you ever notice anything...strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?” Sam adds.

“Well...uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean.” She answers maybe a little too truthfully, and I have to stop myself from laughing.

We come down the front steps, having no helpful information.

“I mean it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense.” Sam announces.

“A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified. You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage.” Dean suggests.

“Okay. But if we're gonna go that route, we'd better look the part.” Sam adds with a smirk.

My face breaks out into a smile, “Cue the montage!”

My new heels click loudly on the pavement, catching the eyes of onlookers.

I had wandered off to find a clothing store for women that would have more professional clothing that I was looking for, while the boys were at some store called “MORT’S for style”.

I retrace my steps back to where I had left the brothers, seeing them standing outside the store fixing their suit jackets. Even though I only saw some of them from where I was walking from I had to say they cleaned up nice.

“What the hells taking Y/N so long?” I hear Dean complain his back towards me as he fidgets with the cuffs of his sleeves.

I approached closer only stopping about four feet behind Dean.

Sam’s eyes caught mine as he looked behind his brother’s shoulder, his eyes widening.

“Sorry, Dean.” I say looking up through my eyelashes, even though his back was towards me still.

He turned towards me, his lips ready to form words that never left his mouth, whatever he was going to say died on his tongue the second he had seen me.

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before turning to a more lidded stance, accompanied by a devilish smirk as his eyes ran up and down my figure. I hadn’t thought there was anything special about wearing a white button up and a black pencil skirt that ended near my mid thigh, but the way he’s looking has me questioning my knowledge on such things.

I feel my cheeks turn hot and I suddenly feel exposed by the way he’s looking at me. I tug on the hem of my skirt, pulling it down slightly, seemingly pulling Dean out of whatever odd trance he had been in.

He clears his throat and yet his voice still comes out a little tight, “We should go”.

I hum in agreement, only now realizing that Sam was already ahead of us and getting into the car.

We enter the warehouse, my heels still noticeably clicking, showing our “homeland security badges” to the security guard who nods and lets us in.

The warehouse is huge and yet still cluttered with plane wreckage.

Dean pulls out an odd device, plaguing the attached earbuds in his ears.

“What is that?” Sam asks the question we’re both thinking.

“It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies.” Dean informs, holding up a rackity device.

“Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?” Sam questions further, eyebrows scrunched.

“'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade.” Dean grins, shaking it a little.

“Okay D.I.Y King.” I laugh, nudging his arm.

“I’m just going to accept that” Dean nods, going off to move his creation around for EMF readings.

“Check out the emergency door handle.” Dean calls out revealing a yellow dust like thing on the handle.

“What is this stuff?” Dean asks, scratching at the odd yellow substance.

“Why would you touch it?” I ask him, he looks at me and shrugs.

“Well there’s one way to find out what it is.” Sam scrapes some of the yellow dust off with a pen putting both into a little clear baggy.

He puts the bag in his pocket when suddenly the door we entered slams open, several security guards with guns enter. We all share a panic look before swiftly sneaking out of the room.

With our backs pressed to the walls tightly we found a way outside. We peer around a corner seeing no one in sight, giving us the go to start walking towards the gated exit. Then suddenly a loud alarm blared, turning our “causal” walking into a run.

My heels hit the ground hard with every stride I took, hoping they wouldn’t break. But with each careful movement I knew my heels were slowing me down. I stopped a brief moment kicking them up before carrying them in one hand as I continued after the men in front of me.

Reaching the gate Dean took his suit jacket off, his muscles flexing under the white button shirt he wore. He threw his jacket over the barbed wire at the top of the fence, Sam already climbing the gate.

Dean makes eye contact with me, and without words he gets down on one knee offering me his cupped hands to lift me up the gate. I accepted it and with one hand carrying my heels I hurried up the fence, swinging my leg over the jacket covered bar wire, and despite the shorts I wore underneath the skirt I still hoped I wasn’t flashing him.

I feel Dean following closely behind me as I land, stumbling slightly, on the hard concrete my feet aching from the drop without shoes.

“Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.” Dean says, having grabbed the jacket on his way over the fence. He takes a half a look back and takes off running, Sam follows closely behind being able to catch up with his long legs as I hurry after the boys.

Jerry looks at the yellow stuff through a microscope, hunched over. We watch the screen that's projecting what the microscope sees.

“Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfur.” Jerry announces.

“You're sure?” Sam asks.

“Take a look for yourself.” Jerry offers but before anyone could move there’s sounds of banging coming from outside the office as well as a voice cursing out, “You effin' piece of crap…”

“If you fellows will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire.” Jerry huffs, teeth clenched.

As Jerry leaves Dean wanders over to the microscope looking into it.

“Hmm. You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue.” Dean mumbles.

“Demonic possession?” Sam asks.

“Oh, that would definitely explain how a regular dude would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch.” I answer.

“This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?” Dean stated.

“You ever heard of something like this before?” Sam asks him.

“Never.” He replies

“That’s comforting” I remark.

We were in full research mode, the motel room walls taped with article clippings and images. Papers strewn access the beds and tables. Sam’s on his bed researching on his computer, while Deans reading a book on demon mythology sitting on his bed.

I’m sitting at the small table in the room with a notepad and two open books in front of me, with titles I'm not entirely sure of.

“So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it.” Sam speaks out.

“Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this.” Dean adds.

“Well, that's not exactly true. You see, according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease.” Sam informs

Dean gets up,“And this one causes plane crashes?

All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?”

“I guess there isn’t really a way of knowing just how many planes it’s brought down before this one.” I answered

Dean snorts, turning away.

“Hey” I whine thinking he’s poking fun at what I said, my eyebrows scrunching.

“I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here.” Dean announces, my face relaxing at the clarification.

“Yeah. Me too.” Sam hums, looking back down at his computer just as Dean’s phone rings.

He answers,

“Hello?

…

Oh, hey, Jerry.

…

Wha—Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?

….

Where'd this happen?

….

I'll try to ignore the irony in that.”

Me and Sam throw each other a questioning look.

Dean’s conversation continues,

“Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon.”

As he hangs up Sam asks him, “Another crash?”

“Yeah. Let's go.” Dean confirms.

“Where too?” I ask, closing the books and my laptop.

“Nazareth.” He answers.

Jerry is again looking through his microscope.

“Sulfur?” I ask, wanting to confirm. Jerry nods, simply.

“Well, that's great. All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.” Dean announces.

“With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news.” Sam adds, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“What's the bad news?” Dean asks him, turning in his direction.

“Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this, so did flight 2485.” Sam answers, my eyes widening at the realization.

“Forty minutes? What does that mean?” Jerry questions, looking between the three of us.

“The number typically symbolizes a period of trial or testing, like in Noah’s Ark it rained for forty days and forty nights.” I recall, speaking with my hands.

“Along with death” Dean joins in.

“I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in.” Sam informs.

“Any survivors?” Dean asks him.

“No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason. On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP Said?” Sam adds.

“ ‘No survivors’… Y/N you were right, it’s going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.” Dean recalls.

Darkness surrounds the car, our only source of light being the headlights as we drive through the night.

Sam’s on the phone contacting the survivors.

“Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.” Sam says, sounding peachy as he lies to the woman on the phone.

He hangs up, “All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.”

“So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker.” Dean acknowledges, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm. It's her first night back on the job.” Sam adds.

“You know I can’t decide if that’s really brave or stupid of her.” I say

“Either way, that’s just our luck” Dean grumbles.

“Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel.” Sam replies.

“Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass.” Dean offers.

“I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off.

God, we're never gonna make it.” Sam sighs.

“We'll make it.” Dean answers, pressing down on the gas pedal.

We rush through the airport, stopping only to look up at the Departure board.

“There! They’re boarding in thirty minutes.” I point at the screen above us, trying to catch my breath.

“Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone.” Dean adds, turning in a circle until he spots a courtesy phone.

He picks up the phone while Sam and I wait on standby, “Hi. Gate thirteen.

I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um…” He trails off.

Sam quickly pulls out a marker writing numbers on his hand before holding it up for Dean to read, “flight 4-2-4.”

Dean taps his finger on the phone as he waits,

“Come on.

…….

Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here.

….

Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—“

Dean pauses and I know something got messed up, “You what?

…..

Uh, well...there must be some mistake.”

Sam looks at me with confused eyes and I shrug not knowing either, he gets closer to Dean trying to listen in as best as he can almost right on top of him.

Dean laughs, uncomfortably, “Guilty as charged.

….

He's really sorry.

….

Yes, but...he really needs to see you tonight, so—

……

Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic.

….

Oh, yeah.”

I have never been more confused about a conversation before.

Dean suddenly calls out, “No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda! Damn it! So close.” He puts the phone back on the hook with a defeated sigh.

“All right, it's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane.” Sam says quickly.

“Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.” Dean holds out his hand in defense, eyes wide.

“Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash.” Sam reasons.

“I know.” Dean mumbles.

“Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You guys get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through the security. Meet me back here in five minutes.” Sam explains and I nod along with him.

But Dean remains quiet looking between us anxious. I place my hand on his upper arm, “Are you okay, Dean?”

“No, not really.” He answers truthfully, which I wasn’t quite expecting.

“Oh…what’s wrong?” I ask, concerned.

“Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh…” He starts getting cut off by his brother, “Flying?”

“It's never really been an issue until now.” Dean explains his body tense.

“You're joking, right?” Sam smiles, and I hit his arm lightly.

“Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?” Dean whisper-shouts.

“How come you never told either of us?” I ask him, bringing my arm back to my side.

“Well I don’t exactly make it a point to tell people, it’s embarrassing.” He explains, becoming quieter as he finishes.

“Hey we all have our fears” I say, giving his upper arm a little pat, trying to comfort him though I’m not sure if it was helping.

“Ok, uh, Y/N and I will go then.” Sam comes up with.

“What?” Dean asks, looking between us as if we had grown another head each.

“Me and Y/N can do it on our own.” Sam states.

“Yeah! It’s no biggie! And it will mean no plane time for you.” I add on.

“What are you guys, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash.” Dean exclaimed.

“Dean, we can do it all three of us, or me and Y/N can do this one together. I'm not seeing a third option, here.” Sam proposed.

“Come on! Really? Man…” Dean complained.

The intercom rings out, “Flight attendants, please cross-check doors before departure.”

I sat snuggly between Sam and Dean, the later being in the aisle seat anxiously reading the safety card.

“Just try to relax.” Sam tells him.

“Just try to shut up.” Dean snaps back. I roll my eyes at their banter with a huffed laugh.

The plane takes off, Dean jumping at every little rumble the vehicle makes. He clutches his armrests tightly, the knuckles of his hands turning white from the grip, I place my hand on top of his. The hand I was touching quickly released its death grip on the armrest, now having a firm grip on my hand instead. His body was visibly tense as he leaned back, strigidly, humming a song to himself.

Sam leans forward to see Dean, “You're humming Metallica?”

“Calms me down.” Dean answers through clenched teeth.

“Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right?” Sam sympathized, “But you got to stay focused.”

“Okay.” Dean replies simply.

“I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism.” Sam explains.

“Yeah, on a crowded plane. That's gonna be easy.” Dean exclaims.

“Just take it one step at a time, all right?” Sam reassures, “Now, who is it possessing?”

Realizing what Sam’s trying to do I keep quiet and let him work.

“It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress.” Dean answers.

“Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up.” Sam adds.

“Mm-hm.” Dean hums, turning to a brunette flight attendant who passed by, “Excuse me. Are you Amanda?”

“No, I'm not”,she answered, looking at him just a little bit strangely.

“Oh, my mistake.”

“Mm-hm.”

Dean stretches his neck to the back of the plane, still trying to look for Amanda, “All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state.

“What if she's already possessed?” Sam asks him.

“There's ways to test that.” He answers, going into his bag and diving out a flask looking bottle with the Virgin Mary on it. “I brought holy water.”

“No” Sam snatches the bottle tucking it inside his hoodie, almost hitting me in the face as he took it. “I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God.”

“Oh. Nice.” Dean turns to go, letting go of my hand in the process.

“Hey.” Sam calls out, stopping his brother in his tracks.

“What?” Dean asks

“Say it in Latin.” Sam reminds.

“I know.” Dean leaves again, only making it a few steps before Sam calls out again, “Okay. Hey!”

“What?!” Dean almost shouts, annoyed.

“Uh, in Latin, it's ‘Christo’” Sam answers.

“Dude, I know! I'm not an idiot!” Dean snaps back, this time being able to walk away without restriction.

I turn my head to Sam, “I feel like I should be going with him.”

“Yeah…probably” He answers.

With a nod I unbuckle myself getting up to follow after Dean.

“Dean!” I call out touching his arm as I catch up to him.

“What are you doing here?” He asks me.

“I’m here for moral support!” I say smiling as we enter the back portion of the plane seeing a blond woman fussing with a cart of drinks and napkins.

“Hi.” Dean greets her awkwardly.

“Hi. Can I help you with something?” She asks us, her eyes suddenly widening, “Oh, wait, are you guys trying to join the Mile High Club?” She adds looking uncomfortable now.

“What’s tha-“ I try to ask, getting cut off by a frantic Dean.

“No! no, no, no. I, uh, I'm just a bit of an uneasy flier. It makes me feel better to walk around a little bit, and she’s here for moral support.” He stammers out, eyes wide.

“Oh, I'm so sorry for the confusion. But flight anxiety happens to the best of us.” She offers, meanwhile I'm still confused on what this club is.

“Of course, you being a stewardess, I guess flying comes easy to you.” Dean replies, getting back on track.

She laughs, “You'd be surprised.”

“Really? You’re a nervous flier?” I ask her, even though I know anyone would be after experiencing what she had.

“Yeah, maybe, little bit.” She answers.

“How is it that, being a stewardess, you're scared to fly?” Dean chimes in, scratching his chin.

“Kind of a long story.” She responds.

“Right. I'm sorry for asking.” Dean apologized.

I have to say this is the most awkward conversation I’ve ever witnessed Dean be in, especially when it came to women as much as I hate to say it.

“It's okay.” She says.

“You ever consider other employment?” Dean asks her, and I'm starting to wonder if she thinks this random guy talking to her is strange.

“No. Look, everybody's scared of something. I just, uh...I'm not gonna let it hold me back.” She answered confidently, shaking her head.

“Huh.” Dean hums.

“So…” She trails off, probably wanting this awkward encounter to stop.

“Christo.” Dean mumbles quietly under his breath.

“I'm sorry. Did you say something?” Amanda asks him, looking between us.

Dean hesitates, “Christo?”

“I—I didn't, I didn't…” She stutters, clearly lost. If she hadn’t found him strange before she definitely did now.

“Yeah, nothing. Never mind.” Dean answers, turning around swiftly, grabbing my hand in the process as he leads us back to our seats.

“All right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet.” Dean informs, sitting back down.

“That was the most awkward conversation I have ever been a part of. I mean seriously what is this ‘Mile High Club’ and why would we be joining it?” I ask no one in particular.

Both boys are quiet, oddly quiet so I turn my head first towards Sam seeing his eyes wide as he holds back a laugh between tightly closed lips. I give him a weird, questioning look before turning towards Dean who also has widened eyes as he makes a throat cut gesture towards his younger brother. He spots me looking at him strangely and immediately drops the motion, smiling at me instead.

“Ok then, weirdos.” I scuffed, “Back on the topic of the hunt there’s definitely no demon in her, Dean did the whole ‘Christo’ thing. And there's no demon getting into her”

Sam clears his throat as if he was getting rid of whatever came over him, “So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere.”

“Exactly, so not very helpful” I add.

The plane suddenly shakes again, “Come on! That can't be normal!” Dean shouts his grip back on the arm rests.

“Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence.” Sam reassured, and I nodded along with him.

“Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four.” Dean exclaims.

“You need to calm down.” Sam tells him.

“Well, I'm sorry I can't.” Dean snaps back.

“Yes, you can.” Sam reassures him.

“Yeah, you can take deep breaths, we'll do it with you if that helps” I add.

“Guys, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it's not helping.” Dean grumbles

“Sorry” I whisper.

“Listen, if you're panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession, so you need to calm yourself down. Right now.” Sam orders, and a little surprisingly, Dean follows, taking a long slow breath in.

“Good. Now, I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum.” Sam notifies us, pulling out his Dads journal. “It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.”

“More powerful?” Dean asks him.

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own.” Sam explains.

“And why would that be a good thing?” I ask, chiming in.

“Well, because the second part sends the bastard back to hell once and for all.” Sam finishes.

“First things first, we got to find it.” Dean gets up from his seat walking slowly up the aisle with his DIY EMF meter. Sam and I get up following him, I allow Sam to get in front of me. He claps a hand on Dean's shoulder, making him jump, “Ah! Don't do that.”

“Anything?” Sam asks him.

“No, nothing. How much time we got?”

“Fifteen minutes” I chime in, calling out from behind the two taller men.

“Maybe we missed somebody.” Sam adds.

“Maybe the thing's just not on the plane.” Dean suggests.

Sam gives him a pointed look, “You believe that?”

“Well, I will if you will.” Dean comments, looking down at the EMF as the meter suddenly spikes.

The copilot exits the bathroom, heading towards the cockpit.

“What? What is it?” Sam asks.

“Christo.”

The Copilot turns slowly, facing us. His eyes turning black as he peers behind his shoulder, he turns back around going into the cockpit.

We head to the back of the plane, back to Amanda.

“She's not gonna believe this.” Sam warns.

“Twelve minutes, dude.” Dean points out.

“Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope.” Amanda greets sweetly despite how odd her last conversation with us was.

“Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about.” Dean begins, as Sam closes the curtain.

“Um, okay. What can I do for you?” She answers looking at us weirdly again.

“All right, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole "the truth is out there" speech right now.” Dean explains

“All right, look, we know you were on flight 2485.” Sam adds.

Amanda's smile disappears, “Who are you guys?”

But she does not get the answer she’s looking for as Sam explains, “Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure.”

“We really need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Right now.” I plead.

“I'm sorry, I—I'm very busy. I have to go back—“ She stammers, trying to brush past Dean who stops her.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? But listen to me, uh...The pilot in 2485, Chuck Lambert. He's dead.”

“Wait. What? What, Chuck is dead?” She exclaims, eyes wide.

“He died in a plane crash. Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?” Dean asks.

“I—“ Amanda starts getting cut off by Sam, “Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too.”

“Amanda, you have to believe us.” Dean urged

“On...on 2485, there was this man. He...had these eyes.” Amanda tries to explain.

“Yes. That's exactly what we're talking about.” Sam responds.

“I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?” She looks between us.

“Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.” Dean explains.

“Why? What does he have to do with anything?” She asks him.

“Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?” Dean pushes.

“How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—“ She tries to ask getting cut off yet again by Sam, “Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit.”

“Do you know that I could lose my job if you—“ She tries again this time getting cut off by me, “Please, Amanda your job isn’t going to exist in a couple minutes if you don’t bring him back here.”

I feel bad for having to scare her like this but we don’t have a choice here.

She hesitates and I can see her considering her options in her head, “Okay.”

She leaves us, heading to the cockpit as we get in position. Sam pulls out the holy water and Dean pulls out his Dads journal handing it to Sam who opens it.

“Yeah, what's the problem?” A male voice rings out, the Co-Pilot walking through the curtain.

Dean launches forward, punching him in the face. The man stumbles back, Dean uses that leverage to grab the guy and slam him to the ground. Pinning him down as he puts duct tape over his mouth.

“Wait. What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.” Amanda exclaims.

“We are gonna talk to him.” Dean answers, Sam splashing the holy water on the man’s skin, making it sizzle and bubble at the contact.

“Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?” She stammered, backing up.

“Look. We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain.” Sam commands.

“Well, I don't underst—I don't know—“ Amanda whispered, fearfully.

“Sam start reading” I order taking over the role of getting Amanda out, “You can’t let anyone in, Amanda please. Can you do that?” I ask her, leading her closer to the curtain.

“Okay. Okay.” She finally agrees, leaving. Meanwhile Sam began his reading kneeling down near the Demon, “Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino—“

The demon manages to break free, swinging his arm out at Sam causing the holy water to go flying, in that one moment of distraction the demon manages to shove Dean backwards and hit Sam back into the wall.

I launch into movement, pinning his arms to the side of his head. I'm not physically stronger than Dean but I’m not exactly going to wait around either.

Sam leans up, picking up where he left off. Dean kneels by my side holding down the arm of the demon who lashes beneath me. He breaks free again shoving me off, the side of my head hitting into the wall of the plane hard, and backhanding Dean in the face making him stumble back.

He rips the tape off his mouth, grabbing Sam by the collar, “I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!”

Dean recovers much quicker than I, punching the demon and pinning him down once more.

“Sam!” Dean yells.

Sam begins reading again, putting the book down to help Dean pin down the Demon. I pick myself up, ignoring the spinning of my head to hold down the guy's other arm.

The demon lashes again, when finally black smoke leaves the Copilots mouth and disappears.

“Where'd it go?” Sam asks, looking up.

“It's in the plane. Hurry up. We got to finish it.”

We all stand up, determined to finish this when suddenly the plane dips and heaves violently. The movement successfully threw me to the ground, every time I tried to get up or move the heaving threw me down again like a baby who’s just learning how to walk. Meanwhile Deans splayed against the exit door screaming.

Sam somehow manages to keep moving despite the violent movement, army crackling into the aisle looking for the book.

A sudden bright electrical charge runs through the entire plane, which ends the hectic movement.

I hear chatter and sighs of relief, even though I'm all the way in the back of the plane. I stumble as I stand, walking over to Dean who still remains splayed against the door despite the plane flying as normal. I place a hand on his arm, as to say without words he’s okay, he looks down at me, his eyes wide and full with fear.

He carefully removes himself from the wall to enclose me in a tight hug, his head coming down to rest on my shoulder. I wrap one arm around his back, the other going to hold his head to me, my fingers in his hair, his breath heavy as I feel it fan on my neck.

I don’t mind the fact that I had to stand on my tippy toes for his head to be on my shoulder more comfortably, not when I got to hold him so close and give him a moment of peace.

————————————————————————

Back at the airport all sorts of departments surrounded everyone, FBI, FAA, Paramedics, etc.

We headed for the exit, Sam walking just a bit ahead of us, his body and every movement was tense. Dean looks at me, asking without words if he should say something I nod in confirmation.

“You okay?” he asks, Sam stops and turns.

“It knew about Jessica.” Sam seethes.

“Sam, these things, they, they read minds. They lie. All right? That's all it was.” Dean explains and I nod along with him.

“Yeah.” Sam breathes out.

“Come on.” Dean slaps a hand on Sam’s back, leading us out of there.

————————————————————————

“Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed.” Jerry shakes each of our hands, “Your dad's gonna be real proud.”

“We'll see you around, Jerry.” Sam said.

We begin to head off when Dean stops short, “You know, Jerry.”

“Yeah.” He answers.

“I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway? I've only had it for like six months.” Dean told him.

“Your dad gave it to me.” Jerry responded.

“What?” Sam and I say almost at the same time.

“When did you talk to him?” Dean asks, looking at Sam and then back to Jerry.

“I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call.” Jerry explained, “Thanks again, guys” and he left.

“This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service.” Sam exclaims.

Dean pulls out his phone in response, dialing a number and putting it on speaker phone for us to hear too.

“This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.”

We all look at each other, Sam huffs storming off to the car slamming the door behind him. I didn’t know what to say, and I don’t think Dean did either. With no other words we followed getting into the car and with a sigh Dean drove off.

[artyandink]

we could be more | dean winchester | 4

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

CHILDREN SHOULDN’T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : DRIVER’S LICENSE - OLIVIA RODRIGO

“Come on, Sam, I'm begging you. This is stupid.” Dean groaned as he drove the car.

”Why?” Sam asked.

”Going to visit Mom's grave? She doesn't even have a grave- there-there was no body left after the fire.” 

“She has a headstone.” 

“Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man we've never even met. So you wanna, go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on.” 

“It’s not about that.”

”Enlighten me then, Sam.” 

“It's not about a body, or, or, a casket. It's about her memory, okay?” 

“Mhmm.”

”And after Dad it ju-just feels like the right thing to do.”

“It's irrational, is what it is.”

”Look, man. No one asked you to come.”

”Why don't we swing by the roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven't heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that thing down.”

”That's a good idea, you should. Just drop me off, I'll hitch a ride, and I'll meet you there tomorrow.”

”How about we ask what Beanie wants to do?” Dean turned slightly. “Whatcha wanna do?”

”Go to the graveyard.” I replied. “Believe it or not, my family’s tombstone is nearby. The night my family died was spent in Lawrence.” 

“Well, then, you can pay your respects there.” Sam agreed.

We reached the graveyard, and I instantly started searching for our family plot. As soon as I found it, I sat at my dad’s grave, staring at the inscription of his name. 

“Hey, dad.” I whispered. “It’s been 7 years since I last saw you, and if I’m being honest, it’s eating me alive cause I need you with me. I found your book and I saw your notes on Sam and Dean, so I found them and they’re protecting me from the dreamwalker cause the devil came after me, but only took away my powers. It feels like I’ve let you down.” My voice started breaking uncontrollably. “You told me to take care of my family, but there’s no one left to protect, so what am I here for?” I felt a tear drop onto my Panic!At the Disco t-shirt. “Dean and Sam have their own problems to deal with, b-but they insist that I don’t intrude. It’s… c-confusing.” I paused. “And there’s another thing. Everyone expects me t-to live up to either yours or mom’s name, but it’s so hard to do. I doubt I can-”

”Beanie!” I heard, so I left some flowers at the grave and went over to Dean. 

“What?” 

“Does this mean anything to you?” He pointed to the ground. There was a ring of dead grass surrounding a tombstone, along with a wreath of dead flowers. I wiped a tear from my eye, then nodded. 

“It’s an odd ring of dead grass around a grave, it’s usually a sign of a troubled spirit or unholy ground.” 

“You hear that, Sam?” 

“Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide.” Sam suggested, so I bent down and touched the soil, bringing it up to my face. 

“Nope.” I shook my head. “If pesticide was still here, soil wouldn’t be dry. Excesses of it make the soil wet for a few hours after.” 

“Okay, so what are you thinking?” 

“Unholy ground.” 

“Un-“ Sam stopped, looking dumbfounded. 

“What? If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground.” Dean explained. “Remember the-the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?” 

“Yeah, b-“

”Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or the-the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough.” Dean grimaced at Sam’s nod. “Well, don’t get too excited, you might pull something.” 

“It's just... stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?”

“So?” 

“So… are you sure this is about a hunt and not anything else?” 

“What else would it be about?” 

“Boys.” I sighed, going and getting a newspaper from a nearby stand.

“You believe what you want, Sam, but -- I let you drag my butt out here, the least we could do is check this out.” 

“Yeah. Fine.” Sam grumbled. 

“Her dad works as a professor at the university here.” I informed, looking up. 

“Dr. Mason?” Dean knocked on the door in the university, and Dr Mason opened it. 

“Yes?” He replied. 

“I'm Sam. This is Dean, and this is Ivy.” Sam introduced. “We were friends of Angela's. We... we wanted to offer our condolences.” 

“Please, come in.” We entered, and while Dean went to the shelves, Sam and I sat down. 

“She was beautiful.” Sam smiled, looking at a photo. 

“She was.” Dr Mason nodded sadly. I got up, going to the door. 

“I’m going to get some fresh air.” I excused, then shut the door behind me. I looked around at the bustling students, and I gulped, remembering my brief time at college before I dropped out. 

“You look lost.” I turned to see a dude who seemed to be six foot tall, making me feel small since I was 5’ 8”. He had dark brown hair, brown eyes and a smile that could probably blind me. He was dressed smartly, and glasses framed his eyes, giving him a geeky look. “Are you a student?” 

“God, no.” I chuckled. “I’m here visiting Dr Mason with my brothers. We were friends with Angela.” I held out my hand. “I’m Lily Carter.” 

“Nate, but the students call me Mr Coleman.” He shook my hand. “I’m sorry about Angela.” 

“So am I.” I smiled. “It’s hard, but I’m dealing.” 

“Your brothers are helping, huh?” 

“More than I think they are.” I nodded. “They’re going through things too, so they need my help as well.” 

“Sounds like a good thing.” He grinned, then looked like he was hesitant for something. “C-Can I get your number?” 

“Oh, sure.” I pulled out my phone and so did he, and I read out my number. When we were done, his cheeks were red, a goofy smile on his face. 

“Do you think we can-“ 

“Beanie?” Dean and Sam came out from the office, and found me. “C’mon, let’s go.” 

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” I asked. 

“Course I will.” He grinned. “It was great meeting you, Lily Carter.” 

“And you, Nate Coleman.” I replied, then walked off with the boys. 

“I never knew ‘a breath of fresh air’ meant ‘find a new man’.” Dean teased. 

“Dean, it wasn’t like that-“ 

“Don’t think that we didn’t see you staring at that dude like he was a cup of coffee.” Sam chuckled. “Just couldn’t resist him.” 

“I got his number, but-“ 

“Don’t think we’ve forgotten about Will.” Dean snorted. 

“Yeah, Will.” Sam laughed. “Speaking of Will, have you two been in contact since we left?” 

“Nope.” I replied. “Just another relationship on the go.” 

“We’ve had our fair share.” They both nudged me. 

“Speaking of which, where are we staying for tonight?” Dean asked. 

“I’ve got a safe house here.” I offered. 

“How many safe houses do you have?” 

I held up a set of keys. 

“Damn.”

The moment we had gotten into the Impala, Dean had been blabbing on about how we ‘found something’. Sam was forever sceptical, and I was trying to find a quiet moment so I could text Nate. 

“I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet.” Dean repeated as we closed the house door. 

“Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing.” Sam groaned. 

“Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground.”

”There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father.” 

“Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?” 

“You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore.”

“So what, Sam? What, we just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?” 

“I think I know what's going on here. It's the only reason I went along with you this far.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“This is about Mom’s grave.” 

“Oh, he just went there.” I whispered, breathing out. 

Dean scoffed. “That’s got nothing to do with it.” 

“You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look. Maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad.” Sam persisted.

“I’m not taking this-“ They were interrupted by my keys jingling, and I put my leather jacket on, ignoring their faces as I fixed my crop top. 

“Where are you going?” Sam asked. 

“Thanks for realising that I’m still here.” I smiled falsely. “Now, if you excuse me, I’m heading to the bar, alone, to get a drink. You two have a copy of the keys if you want to do something similar.” I went out of the door, walking to the bar. 

I was busy drinking a whiskey at the bar, merely cause I was in the mood for something fancier than beer. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” The bartender asked, prepping a drink. 

“Yeah, I’m just getting away from my brothers. They might be wrestling at this point.” I replied with a scoff.

“I used to do that with my brothers. My mom said it should be professional.” He chuckled. “Anyway, I have something for you.” He gave me a Cosmopolitan, and I frowned. 

“I didn’t ask for this.” 

“But the gentleman across the bar did. Paid for it an’ all.” He pointed to… 

“Nate.” I half exhaled, half laughed as he walked up to me, sitting down on the bar stool beside me. 

“Lily.” Nate grinned. “I never thought I’d see you again, not after your… brothers… whisked you away.” 

“Why the emphasis?” I asked, sipping the Cosmo. 

“Because I never knew that Lily Carter could be the sister of Sam and Dean Winchester.” 

I choked on my drink. “You know?” 

“A lot of hunters know who those two are.” He nodded. “So your name isn’t really Lily Carter, is it?” 

“Nope.” I chuckled. “Ivonne Rainer.” 

“Michael Rainer’s daughter?” 

“You bet.” I smirked, then took out his ID, which I’d nifted from his pocket. “And your name isn’t Nate Coleman, is it, Xavier?” 

“You got me.” He grinned. “I’m actually Xavier Jackson.” 

“I never thought I’d see a hunter work undercover as a school teacher.” 

“I joined the day after Angela’s death.” Xavier explained. “Something was up, cause I’d seen her grave. I’ve never seen a more obvious mark of-“ 

“-unholy ground.” We finished together, then started laughing. I drank my Cosmo to stop laughing, but then he seemed hesitant to say something. 

“What’s up?” I asked. 

“The first time I saw you with Sam and Dean, I thought you and Dean were dating or you liked each other, and I was scared to text you-“

I started laughing again, wiping a tear of laughter from my eye. “No way, Dean and I are friends! He just calls me Beanie cause I wore one the first time we met.”

”Phew.” He pretended to wipe off sweat from his forehead, adjusting his glasses. “I-I thought I had some competition, to say the least.” 

“There’s nothing in your way, trust me.” I grinned. 

I woke up, squinting my eyes at the bright light of the sun and sighing. I giggled when an arm wrapped around my waist, somebody peppering kisses along my shoulder. 

“Last night was amazing.” Xavier whispered in my ear, and I turned around to face him. 

“Last night was a blur.” I joked. “Can you remind me what happened?” 

“Are you-“ 

“I’m kidding!” I laughed, cupping his cheek and rubbing my thumb against it softly. “Yeah, last night was… I don’t have words.” 

“Your phone is ringing, though.” He whispered, and I pulled the sheets over me as I reached over, seeing the caller ID. 

Sam. 

“Oh, damn.” I cursed, then picked it up. “Hey, Sam?” 

‘Ivy, thank god. You didn’t come home last night, where are you?’ 

“You know Nate, right? I met him at the bar, but I was a bit drunk and he took me to his house since it was nearer and neither of us brought cars.” 

‘You could’ve called either me or Dean.’ 

“And risk either of you ranting about how dumb the other person is? Hell no.” 

‘True- Dean, you’ll get your chance to talk- hey!’ 

‘Text me the address, Beanie, I’ll be there in five.’ 

“Fine.” I cut the call, texted Dean the address, then grabbed my clothes and quickly slipped into them. 

“Call me later, yeah?” Xavier asked while putting his shirt on. The moment it went on, I never could’ve guessed he was jacked. 

“Of course I will.” I kissed his cheek then his lips, but he kept me there by holding my hips. I pulled back, grinning. “Dean’s gonna give you the dad talk if he finds us kissing, even if he’s not my dad.” 

“Right.” He combed his hair while I reapplied my lip gloss, picking up my keys and putting on my jacket. 

“By the way,” I breathed, “you have the hottest sleeper build ever.” 

“Glad to know.” He smiled, kissing my hand just as the roar of the Impala came from the other side of the door. I opened the door, waving and getting into shotgun, turning to Dean. 

“No call.” He lectured. “No text, no warning that you might not be back-“ 

“Chill, Dean.” I sighed. 

“And even after that, there’s no sign of a hangover. In fact, you’re weirdly glowing…” He paused, his head whipping round. “You got laid.” 

“I, uh…” He pulled my collar down then let out a loud laugh, returning my collar to where it was. “You did! And by geek guy as well!” 

“His name is Xavier.” 

“I thought it was Nate.” 

“He’s undercover investigating Angela.”

”We’re on a hunt and you got yourself laid.” 

“Don’t think I don’t know about Cassie.” 

The comment made him pause. “No comment. Was he good?” 

“WHAT?!”

”It’s a genuine question! Did he treat you right?” 

“He was great.” 

“Then I have no problem.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You deserve to be happy, Beanie. My job is to protect you.”

We ended up at Angela’s roommate, Lindsey’s, apartment. Dean unlocked it, and we walked in, and he picked up a picture, but there was a reflection. 

Of Lindsey. 

“Who the hell are you?” She confronted before she shut the door, seemingly locking it. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold on!” Dean called. 

“I’m calling 911!” 

“Hear me out!” I spoke up. “I’m here with Angela’s cousin. Alan? Alan Stanwick? We’re here to pick up Angela’s stuff because her dad sent us.” 

She opened the door slightly. “He never told me you were coming.” 

“We have the keys to your house, sweetheart.” I smiled, holding up the keys. 

“Who are you?” 

“Naomi Wickham.” I lied. “Alan is my… boyfriend.” 

She came back out, coming face to face with us. She sat down on the sofa, and started crying, so we sat down and handed her a Kleenex tissue. 

“So. I'm sure you got a, a view of Angela that none of the family got to see.” Dean- I mean Alan- said. “Tell me, what, what was she like? I mean, what was she really like?”

”She was great.” She sobbed. “She was so, so…” 

“Great?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded before breaking down again. In an attempt to play the kind girlfriend, I gave her a tissue. 

“Here you go.” I soothed. “You two must have been really close, huh?”

”We were. But it's not just her, it's Matt.” 

“Who?” Dean asked. 

“Angela’s boyfriend.” 

“Right.” I nodded. “What about him?” 

“He killed himself last night. He cut his own throat. Who does that?” Lindsey wailed, taking another tissue. 

“That’s terrible.” 

“He was taking Angela's death pretty hard, and I guess... I mean, he'd been messed up about it for days.”

”Messed up how?” Dean asked. 

“He kept on saying that he saw her everywhere.” 

“Well, I’m sure that’s normal, with everything he was going through.” 

“No, he said that he SAW her. As in, an acid trip or something.” 

“Were Angela and Matt a happy couple? I mean, is there any reason that Angela would be angry with him?” Dean persisted.

“What? No, of course not, why do you ask?” She looked confused, so I had to step in. 

“Just checking, Lindsey. Where did Matt live?”

We opened the door to my safe house, hearing something weird going on with the television. Sam threw down the remote, acting as if nothing was wrong. 

“Hey.” He coughed. 

“Hey.” Dean grimaced. 

“Awkward.” I whistled. “Let’s not have me come home to that again, eh?”

”Where in the hell were you?” Sam asked, deflecting. 

“Working my imaginary case.” Dean sniped. 

“Yeah? And?” 

“Well, you were right, I didn't find much. Yeah. Except Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else. Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings.” 

“Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, maybe there is something going on here.” 

“Maybe? Sam, I know how to do my job, despite what you might think.” 

“Hey, maybe we should check out the overall situation.” I interrupted. “We went to Matt’s apartment and it’s the same thing as the cemetery. Dead  plants, hell, even dead goldfish.” 

“So, unholy ground?” Sam asked. 

“Maybe. I'm still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela.” Dean picked up a pink book, showing it to us. “I have been reading this, though.” 

“You stole the girl's diary?” 

“Yeah, and if anything, she’s a little too nice.” I remembered a book from Dr Mason’s room, so I pulled out every language book I had in my satchel.

”Are you kidding me? I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world.” Dean turned to me. “What’s going on, Beanie?” 

“Did you see a book with strange symbols in Dr Mason’s room?” I asked, flipping the book. 

“Yeah, I showed him it.” 

“I’m gonna need at least a few samples.” 

“I didn't realise the college employed grief counsellors.” We were at the house of a guy named Neil, who seemed to be close friends with Angela. 

“Oh yeah. Yeah, you talk, we listen. Or maybe throw in a little therapeutic collage, whatever jump-starts the healing.” Dean nodded. 

“Well, I think I’m ok, thanks.” Neil refused. 

“You heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, I did.” 

“Well, we just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I smiled. “Grief can make people do crazy things.”

”Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him. I am. But if Matt killed himself it wasn't 'cause of grief.” 

“No? Then why?” 

“It was guilt. Angie's death was Matt's fault and he knew it.” He said it almost bitterly, piquing my interest.

”How, Neil?”

“Well, she really loved that guy. But the night of the accident she walked in on him with another girl.” Neil explained. “She was really torn up, that's why she crashed the car. Um, look, I gotta get ready for work, so ... thanks for the concern, but... seriously, I'll be okay.” 

We left the house, a little more assured than last time.

“Well, that vengeful spirit theory's starting to make a little more sense.” Dean shrugged. “I mean, hell hath no fury...” 

“So if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it's over?” Sam asked as we got into the car. I was in the driver’s this time to give Dean a break. 

“Well, there's one way to be sure.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Burn the bones.” 

“Are you high?” I scoffed. “By ‘burning the bones’ you mean burning a still rotting body. That could release an angrier spirit.” 

“C’mon,” Dean chuckled, “since when are you afraid to get your hands dirty?” 

We were digging Angela’s grave, the three of us panting as we tossed soil into a large pile. When we were done, Dean gestured to the coffin.

“Ladies first.” He joked to Sam, who winced and opened the coffin-

“What the hell?” I exclaimed. The coffin was empty. 

“This can’t be possible.” Sam frowned. 

“They buried the body four days ago.” Dean fumed. 

“I don’t get it.” 

I aimed my torch at the side of the coffin, seeing inscriptions. I got in, bending down so I could see the letters properly. 

“Beanie? Got something?” Dean called. I pulled a pen and a flip notepad out of my inside pocket, balancing the notepad on my knee as I quickly wrote down the inscriptions, every small marking possible. “Beanie!” 

“We need to get back to the safe house.” I clicked my tongue, holding out my torch to see the paper. “I’m not translating this thing in a graveyard.” 

“Alright, what now?” Dean asked, sitting down at the table. I sipped a cup of coffee, taking out every language book in my satchel and laying them out on the table, opening them to the title page. Then I reached in, digging my hand around, shoulder deep. 

“Ivy, say something.” Sam urged.

“Alright, then.” I cleared my throat, still searching. “Where is this thing? Oh, right. So, that is an Ancient Greek dialect, as you know. But it’s gonna take me days to find the right one, and we don’t have that kind of time, so I need a little help.” I closed my fingers around a long cylindrical vial full of clear liquid. “Is this the truth serum?” I pulled the cap off, tapping the side twice. It glowed blue, so I smiled. “This is it.” I dipped a finger in it and made an inscription on the paper, feeling proud that I could actually still somewhat retain something from my witch days. “It’s actually relieving that I can still use some parts of sorcery.” I poured a careful amount in my hand and flicked it, drops of water landing on the front pages, but they absorbed the liquid and were left dry. 

“What are we waiting for?” Sam whispered. 

“Wait for it.” I grinned, and then the pages of every book started moving, flipping back and forth, searching for the right dialect. 

“This is cool.” Dean laughed, his hands out and his expression like a child. “We’re experiencing witchery firsthand, Sammy.” 

“I can see that, Dean.” Sam quickly replied. Then some books started closing with a snap, all of them shutting until one in the top left corner opened on a page with the exact dialect on it. I picked it up, placing it down on the left of the sheet I’d copied the scripture down on. 

“Vitam superiorem voco. Legiones inferorum voco. Magnam virtutem invoco, o diabole, ut hanc animam vivifices. Mihi, illis, vitae.” I recited.

”Hey, you might summon a body!” Dean warned, but I waved him off. 

“I need to inscribe this on a coffin for it to work, so chill, you little squirrel.” I chuckled, then looked over them again. “Translation: I call it a higher life. I call the legions of hell. I invoke a great power, O devil, for you to revive this soul. For me, for them, and for life.” I whistled. “This is an incantation for a ritual typically used in necromancy. You can use it to chat to souls on the other side or revive fresh corpses. But you can’ just do a random person, it has to be someone close to you and it requires a blood sacrifice.” 

“Blood sacrifice?” Sam repeated. 

“You heard me. Person we’re looking for most likely has a rune in their arm. But best bet? Dr Mason. Man knows his Ancient Greek.” I drew air in through my teeth, stacking the books one by one and placing them in my satchel. 

“I know we’ve never really touched the subject, but…” Sam pointed to my arm, the one with the rune on it, “how do you get by without your powers?” 

“I’ve done a lot of hobbies, and one was hunting. I’ve been training since I was around six or seven, which was when Dad taught me how to draw pretty shapes with salt, what he called holy water and oil. Then when I was ten, he gave me books on different creatures and how to kill ‘em. Then when I was thirteen, he took me to a range in the middle of the woods where he taught me to shoot. By the time I was off to college, I was an expert marksman, a good fighter since he’d put me in martial arts, I knew almost everything there is to know about things and how to kill ‘em. I only got my powers at 19, so I could get by pretty well if I didn’t have ‘em.” 

“Your dad taught you well.” Dean smirked. 

“Yeah, by the time I was, what, fifteen, I could just do this.” I covered my eyes, aiming for a target board on the wall and firing, uncovering my eyes and seeing that it hit bullseye. 

“I couldn’t do that at fifteen.” He grumbled. I checked the time, then cleared my throat. 

“I’ve gotta go, boys.” 

“Why?” Sam asked. 

“I’ve got a date.” The two whistled, making me grimace. “You’re both idiots.” 

“Well, c’mon, we need to get you ready!” Sam grinned, starting to fluff up my hair. Dean folded my jacket’s collar, clicking his tongue. 

“You go and spend some time with Xavier, we’ll confront the old man.” Dean winked. 

“If we need you, we’ll call you.” 

“Thanks, guys.” I smiled. “Even if you two are both annoying.”

”You’re like our sister, Beanie.” Dean smirked, taking my necklace and hanging it down the front of my shirt, where the green stone was visible. “But if Xavier breaks your heart, I am taking my pistol and going for him myself.”

”I don’t know, maybe I can talk to Angela to get the deed done.”

I was waiting for Xavier outside a bar, when I felt someone’s presence. 

“Who’s there?” I frowned, putting my hand on my gun. 

“Don’t shoot.” Angela was beside me. “You’re Ivonne. Ivy.”

”Speaking.” I still kept my hand on my gun. “But why?”

”I know your brother. Carter.” She explained. “We met on the other side and asked me to find you. He wants to tell you who took over his mind the night he died.”

”Tell me.” I gritted my teeth. “Angela, so help me, tell me who did it.”

”It was-“

”Ivy?” Xavier was walking towards me, and the next thing I knew, Angela was gone. “Hey.”

”Hey.” I grinned, pecking him on the cheek. “It’s been such a long time.”

”I know, eight hours is way too long.”

After a while of talking, I got a phone call from Dean. I picked it up, sighing. “Really? Three hours?”

’It wasn’t Dr Mason.’ Dean replied. ‘But, uh, we need some help with the rest of this.’ 

“Do you need my help so you don’t verbally assault anyone else?”

‘Pretty much.’ 

“I’ll be there.” I cut the call, grimacing. “The boys need me.”

”That’s fine.” Xavier shrugged. “I don’t mind it, cause I know how it is. Go, solve the case.”

”Ok, Xavier.” I smiled, giving him a kiss. “Thanks.”

”Go get it, then thank me again.” He grinned, and I picked up my stuff, got a taxi and drove back to the safe house. I unlocked the door, hung up my jacket, and went into the kitchen. 

“You needed me?”

”We think Neil is the one who brought back Angela.” Sam explained.

”Is there some voodoo that you can use to track the spell’s caster down?” 

“There should be, yeah.” I nodded, reaching in my satchel and pulling out a spell book and a bundle of rosemary. I arranged the rosemary into a rune, writing Neil’s name onto a sheet of paper and taking Dean’s lighter, muttering an incantation before burning the paper, letting it fall onto the rosemary. All of it burnt to ashes, but then turned red and started forming a person. A person who looked like the spitting image of Neil himself. “There we go.” 

“Neil resurrected Angela.” Sam breathed. “The things you’d do for love.” 

“But these things are typically what you shouldn’t do.” I clicked my tongue. “Sam, anything in John’s journal?” 

“No lore.” He shook his head. 

“What, you can’t just smoke ‘em with a headshot?” Dean asked. 

“Man, you watch way too many Romero flicks.”

“Well, they can’t be unkillable.” I pulled out a book and opened it. “Oh, god help me, this is in Babylonian even though it’s an Ancient Greek manner of killing the revived. Give me a second.” I peered at it for a second. “The most sure-fire way to kill these things is through a blood sacrifice. Theirs. In order to get the blood, they say you have to ‘nail the dead into their grave beds’.” 

“We have to find dear Angie, then.” Dean resolved, storing his gun on his person.

”But Angela’s going to be hard to neutralise, so prepare silver bullets just in case.” I replaced the cartridge full of lead bullets in my gun with a cartridge of silver bullets. 

“Got it.”

We unlocked the door to Neil’s house, my gun held up. 

“Hello? Neil?! It's your grief counsellors- we've come to hug.” Dean called, and I gave him a look. “What?” 

“Really?!” I whispered as he pulled out a gun. 

“Silver bullets?” Sam asked. 

“Enough to make her rattle like a change purse.” Dean smirked. 

“Wilted plants.” I nodded. “And creepy basement door. Unless he keeps his private collections down there, I’d say this is a good place to keep a killer zombie.”  Sam opened the door and both Dean and I sped to the landing, holding our guns out as we stepped down the stairs. However, it was empty. 

“Sure looks like a zombie pen to me.” 

“An empty one. You think she’s gone to get someone?” 

Dean pulled back a vents revealing a hole. “Nah, I think she’s gone to rent beaches.” 

“Look, smartass, she might kill someone. We gotta find her, Dean.” 

“Well, Matt was killed because he cheated on Angela, right?” I asked, hands in my pockets. 

“Yeah.”  They both answered. 

“So it takes two to tango. Plus, Angela’s roommate Lindsey seemed a little too attached to Matt’s death.” I deduced. “I think we need to pay another visit to Lindsey.” 

We drove up to Lindsey’s house, running up to the front door. We opened it and I ran past the boys, aiming at Angela and firing three times. She writhed, screaming and facing us. I shot one more time, hitting Angela in the chest, and she cried out and ran out of the window. 

“I’ve got you.” Sam whispered to Lindsey, holding her. Dean ran out of the window that Angela burst through, running back in a second later. 

“Well, that dead chick can run.” Dean scoffed. “I think we should have a little chat with Neil.” We made sure Lindsey was safe before running to the car, getting in and driving off to Neil’s house.

”So the silver bullets, they did something, right?” 

“Something, but not enough.” 

“Time to try the nailing into their grave thing as a Plan B.” I grimaced. “I know where we can get a pole from, so I’ve made a call. This is probably where all the vampire lore comes from, now that I think of it.” 

“How the hell are we going to get Angela back to the cemetery?” Dean asked. 

“You tell me, Winchester.” We pulled up at Neil’s office, knocking sharply on the door. When there was no answer, I took a picking tool and opened it, all of us advancing into his room. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Neil asked, standing up. 

“You know, I've heard of people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you -- you take the cake.” Dean scoffed. 

“Ok- who are you guys?” 

“You might want to ask Angela that question.” 

“What?” 

“We know what you did, Neil.” I persisted. “You brought back Angela. Kid, I’ve gone through a fair share of rituals myself and I know one when I see one.” 

“You're crazy.” Neil stammered. 

“Your girlfriend's past her expiration date and we're crazy?” Dean scoffed. “When someone's gone they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff.”

”It’s black magic, Neil.” I sighed. 

“Angela killed Matt. She tried to kill Lindsey.” Sam exclaimed urgently. 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Neil whispered. 

Dean stomped over, taking Neil roughly by the collar. “Hey! No more messin’ around, Neil. His blood is on your hands. Now. All of us can make this right, but you've gotta tell us where she is. Tell us!” 

“She’s at my house!” He burst out, looking hounded. Dean spotted a wilted plant and so did Sam and I, so Dean formulated a plan.

”You sure about that?” When Neil nodded, Dean smirked his proud smirk. “Listen. It doesn't really matter where she is. There's only one way to stop her. We've got to perform another ritual over her grave, to reverse the one that you did. We're going to need some black root, some-some scar weed, some candles... It's very complicated, but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple hours. I think you should come with us.” Dean stared intently. “I'm serious, Neil. Leave with us. Right now.” 

“No, no.”

I leaned in, dropping my voice to a whisper. “I get your situation, Neil. But more people could die. So, listen to me carefully. Get out of here as soon as you can. But most of all, be cool. No sudden movements. Don't make her mad.” He nodded shakily, and I patted him in the shoulder. I raised my voice deliberately, turning to Sam and Dean. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“You really think this is going to work?” Sam asked. 

“Nope.” Dean shrugged. “But it’s the only plan we’ve got.”

”You ordered a metal pole?” Xavier showed up with a pointy metal rod, which he gave to Dean. 

“Yeah, we did.” I grinned, kissing Xavier briefly. “Thanks, Zay.” 

“We owe you, man.” Sam grinned, shaking his hand. 

“Yeah, we do, Zay.” Dean teased. “I’m kidding. Name’s Dean.” 

“Xavier, as you know.” He smirked, both of them shaking hands. We heard a noise, and I pulled a gun from my arm holster, going in the direction of the sound. I heard steps behind me, so I turned around and pointed my gun at Angela, who stopped short, putting her hands up. 

“Wait! It's not what you think. I didn't ask to be brought back.” She begged. “But it's still me. I'm still a person. Please.” 

“Do I care?” I scoffed, then shot her in the forehead. Her head snapped back as she screamed, and I started for the grave, but she tackled me, and twisted my head back. 

“I could’ve told you who killed your brother!” She snarled. “Now you have to die, just like he did.”

“Yeah, right.” I shot her in the chest, getting up and shooting again. Another bullet joined me: Dean’s. We both fired at her again and again, until she reached the end, to which Xavier fired a shot from his gun, and she fell in. Dean took the pole, stabbing it into her. 

“What’s dead should stay dead.” He growled. 

“WAIT! NO-“ Dean drove the stake through her, and she immediately went limp, cutting off her last plea.

”Finally.” I groaned, replacing my cartridge. 

Dean seemed rather off after we re-killed Angela, and Sam wanted to keep Xavier company, so the other two were driving back to my house in Xavier’s car. Dean’s hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white, and then he suddenly pulled over. He got out and so did I, watching as he sat down on the hood. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, sitting down. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking down.

“For what, Dean?” 

“The way I've been acting. And for Dad. It’s my fault that he’s dead.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I know you and Sam've been thinking it -- so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later Dad's dead and the Colt's gone.” 

I sighed. “Dean…” 

“You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know.” 

“We don’t know that, not for sure.” 

“You, Sammy and Dad ... you're the most important people in my life.” He started crying, and I took his hand. “And now ... I never should've come back, Ivy. It wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead. You and Sam wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it. So tell me. What could you possibly say to make that all right?” 

“I can’t.” I whispered, but I instead leaned his head on my shoulder, letting him cry it out. “But I know how you feel.”

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[stargazedwinchester]

Telephone | Sam Winchester #01

I actually wrote this 4 (yes 4) years ago, but I've been thinking about redoing it a little bit and republishing it, hopefully its a little better and everyone enjoys it!

I also have this on Wattpad, link here

Part 2 here

-

Your local library was quiet, yet soft, mumbled words came from all directions at any given time. It was a good quiet, though. So comfortable and calming. You browsed the fiction area looking for information on witches, their spells and origin. Your parents were outlining a mammoth-sized hunt at a rather large cabin in the deep forests of Connecticut.

You were new to this whole thing, but your parents had been hunting their whole lives, they knew letting you grow up in a world where you won't know whether your parents will come back from "work" alive or not was no life to live. As they were careful, they had many hunter friends who would go with one of your parents on a hunt, while the other can look after you without leaving you alone. At the age of 13, your parents asked you if you wanted to join them on your first hunt in Nashville. Of course, you agreed.

You found a witch mythology book in the fiction category, you slid it out of its slot, and managed to pick it up with one hand. You tossed the book a little higher so you could reach your right arm underneath it. It was a heavy book, almost the size of A3 paper. The spine of the book had silver embedded leaves, almost vine-like crawling up the side. The front held a cauldron with three witches gathering around it, the background a deep, crimson velvet red. The title read 'Witch Mythology: Spellbinds and Myths'. You were so captivated by the intricate detail of the book, when at the last minute, you noticed someone on the right, searching for a book. You jump and step back.

"Sorry. I almost bumped into you." You apologise, still remaining quiet. The guy turns around to face you, his grey, almost blue eyes glance into yours. He smiles and looks down at the floor, before returning his eyes back to yours. "It's okay, don't worry." He gives a reassuring smirk, and you smile back. "What are you looking for? I practically live here, so I know where everything is." You chuckle, attempting to not sound too nerdy, but it's true. You spent a lot of your free time here while your parents went away for a weekend or whenever you were bored. He purses his lips together and furrows his brows. "Something about demons, like demonic possession." He struggles to find his words, as if he's confused himself. You slide your book and balance it on one arm, while pointing at the shelf. "Right there." You say, and he nods. "Ah." He chuckles again, picking up the book. "Thank you. It's exactly what I was looking for." He says, scanning the book that you carried. "What's that you got there?"

"A book on witch mythology," You start, frantically trying to think of an excuse to not sound like you're either a weirdo, or a hunter. "It's for my history class I'm taking. It's a weird subject but I don't know, it kinda sounds interesting." You say, focusing your gaze upon his. "History? Where are you studying?" He questions, moving his stance onto his left leg. "Wichita State. Are you studying there too?" You ask him, and he shakes his head. "No, I'm at Stanford. I'm back here in Lawrence to visit family." He says, slowly walking backwards, ushering you to follow, and you comply.

You both sat down at a desk, opposite the bookshelves you were just chatting at. You scoot yourself into the desk, and feel yourself glancing at this tall, strange man as he does the same. "What's your name? I feel bad for not asking." He asks you, and you tell him. "Just Naomi?" he examines your face, as if to find an answer. "Naomi Grace Greaves." You tell him, and he smiles. "Well, nice to meet you Naomi Grace Greaves. I'm Sam William Winchester."

–

Some time passes and you both agree to talk outside of the library, the main reason of this was due to the librarian having to get up out of her seat every 5 minutes to hush you both and point to the "NO TALKING" sign glued onto the bookshelf. You both go to the reception and apologise, while also getting the book stamped for return in 4 weeks’ time.

You both exited the library walking next to each other, crossing the road and planted yourselves onto a picnic table where you both could talk freely and as loud as you like. Sam is across from you, wearing a light blue flannel button-up with orange accents, with a white t-shirt underneath. 'The colours matched him well, you thought. It allowed his naturally tanned skin to show against the bright white, also bringing out the relucent Olympic blue in his eyes. You force yourself to look away before he's driven to think otherwise. "So, what do your parents do? You said you study at Stanford, which is great, but what did your parents do?" You ask, seeing the question almost burn into his skull. "I just want to get to know you better, that's all." You manage to make out, and he coughs. "My mom died before I was born, my older brother Dean was about 4 years old. I haven't seen my dad for a few months, though. He disappears from time to time. I guess it's from losing mom, he wants to be alone." Sam informs you, and you feel your heartbreak inside. You felt for this guy, even though you met him an hour ago, it already felt like you were best friends, despite even knowing anything other than names. "Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry." You empathise, leaning more towards him."I lost my sister in a car accident when I was 6. She was 14. Jasmine was her name... She ended up in a coma for 4 months and she eventually woke up while my father and I was there, and she kept repeating that she saw black eyes. Black eyes and smoke. She'd say; 'Nai, they had black eyes. Smoke inside of them, Nai. Oh my God, black eyes. It's so scary.' Then..." You stop, glaring down at the picnic table. "She'd pass out. We still don't know if it was due to her comatose or from shock or something. She died 2 weeks later." You sigh, Sam looks at you with bleakness in his eyes. "I'm sorry." Was all that he managed to say, and that was alright.

The pair of you sat there in silence for a few minutes, collecting your thoughts whilst unsure on what to say next. Sams ringtone broke the silence, and he quickly answered his phone. "Hey, Dean." He says, then covering the microphone. "Sorry, one sec." He says, removing himself from the table and walking 3 feet away from where you were. You grin at him, attempting to not listen in to his conversation. Was Dean his brother? Maybe father? You asked yourself, unclear on who Dean was.

"Are you serious?" He exclaims, furrowing his eyebrows. "Look, I'm with a friend, and I-" He motions his hand at you, then smirking. "Okay, Dean. Okay. Okay, okay, give me 10 minutes and I'll be back." He hangs up the phone and makes his way back to you. "Sorry again, it's my brother." He explains, and you nod. "Do you need to be elsewhere?" You try to not pry, while still attempting to get a straight answer. "Yeah, my brother needs me somewhere, so I need to go. What's your number?" He scrambles out of the seat again, and so do you. You pull out your flip phone and tell him your number. He enters the digits and sends a quick "It's Sam" text, before picking up his library book. "Sorry to cut this short but I'll text you when I'm next in town." He grins, walking away. "See you later, Sam." You almost yell, and he waves. "Goodbye, Naomi."

You pick up your mythology book and stare at your phone screen, you changed the 10 digit number to 'Sam W'. You smile to yourself, uncertain on what could unravel with Sam Winchester.

–

Later on that night, you receive a call from Sam. Your heart felt like it warmed from seeing his name on your screen, and you press answer. "Hello Sammy." You giggle, thinking of the little nickname on the spot. "Ha ha, very original." He says, then chuckles. "What are you up to?" He asks you, and you softly view the contents in your room. "Nothing, why?" You sit up properly on your bed, one hand sandwiched between your thighs. "Just wanted to see if you were free to call, that's all." Sams' end of the call went silent, and you look up at the clock. 9:42PM. "Yeah, sure, I can talk."you smile, laying back down onto your bedsheets. "When will you be back in town?" You ask him, smiling to yourself. "Soon." He laughs, understanding that the word 'soon' could mean tomorrow, or in 6 months time. "Sam!" You exclaim, and he huffs playfully. "What? I said soon." He guffaws. "When is soon?" You ask again, hoping for a serious answer this time. "Maybe... two weeks?" He even questions himself, "I'm not sure. I go back to college on Friday. Then my brother wants me to go on a roadtrip with him on Saturday." He sighs, you hear him rub his face, the facial hair coming into contact with his hand. "Okay. I guess I can wait." You joke, and he laughs. "You miss me already?" Sam practically smiles through the phone, and you do too.

"Yeah. I do."