#bobby better pull a supernatural

[pokemon1oadvanced]

So is Chimney gonna wanna name their son after Bobby?

[definenormalifyoucan]

I wanted Work Song. I manifested Work Song. But not like this. NOT LIKE THIS 😭

[jaredpadonlyyyy]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝘼𝘿𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀

• 𝙋𝙐𝙍𝙀 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏𝙏𝙔 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏

• 𝙄𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝟭𝟴 𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥 𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗! !

• 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗦𝗘𝗫 (𝘞𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴) 𝙋 𝙄𝙉 𝙑, 𝙈𝘼𝙇𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙄𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙁𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒, 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙔 𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙆.

• 🍓 • • • • ❤️ • • •💋 • 🎀 • 💋 • • • ❤️ • • • • 🍓 •

Y/N is running around the roadhouse giving the hunters their drinks. They all love her and they always almost tipped her well. Some tried to get in her pants but she had a boyfriend, by the name of Sam Winchester. Y/N was a hunter as well. She just wasn’t one to go to all hunts all the time. Her thing was always keeping an eye out on the supernatural and handing out cases to hunters who really did hunt.

“There she is.” She heard his voice behind her as she turned around with the tray full of empty cups. “Sam?” She questions as she smiled looking over at her boyfriend. “Hey baby.” He said as she puts down the tray and rushed into his arms crashing her lips on his soft ones. Pulling away, her arms wrapped around his neck she smiled. “Oh how I’ve missed you.” She said to him as he smiled down at her. “I’m guessing she’s not single.” A hunter came up to them as Sam looked over at him. “No, man.” Sam shook his head as his hands gripped her hips tighter as he looked at the hunter. “Too bad man, she’s hot.” He said making her roll her eyes. “Go away, Roy.” She huffed as she pulled away from her hug with her boyfriend. She made eye contact with Dean and they both smiled.

“There’s my favorite girl.” Dean said as they both went in for a hug. She smiled pulling away. “How are you?” She asked him as he nods. “Been better.” He told her. She then looked around and found Jo taking cups from empty tables. “Hey, jo. Mind taking my shift for a little bit?” She asked her as she smiled at her best friend and nods her head. “Sure.” She said.

She pulled Sam with her as she winked over at Dean as he smirked. They both went to the back and into the room Ellen was letting her stay in. As she didn’t have anywhere else to go. She had Bobby, but she didn’t want to drive all the way over there all the damn time. She pulled him into her room as he looks around. “What are we doing?” He asked her as she started to take off her apron tossing it to the side.

She looked up at him with smiling innocently. “Strip” she told him as Sam’s mouth fell open in shock as she said that. He looked at her as she took off her shirt and her bra leaving her in only her jeans. He looked at her chest and saw her hardened nipples in full display for him. She then proceeded to take off her jeans pausing as she looked at him. “Didn’t you just hear me?” She asked him as he snapped out of it and started to strip as she smiled taking off her pants and her thong. “We only have a few minutes before Ellen returns and ask’ for me.” She told him.

Y/N got ahold of the speechless now, naked hunter and walked him over to the bed as he sat down on it. She got on her knees as she grabbed his long hard cock giving it a few pumps as he threw his head back as he moaned softly. He felt your lips on his tip as you licked the pre cum dripping from it. The salty taste of his pre cum making you hum in delight. Sam looked at her as her lips wrapped on his head making him hiss as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock making it twitch as he gripped the sheets of the bed. He gritted his teeth letting out a moan as you took him more into your mouth pumping the base.

She started to bobbed her head at a fast pace making him buckle his hips as his mouth drops open “fuuck, argh.” He grunted as you looked at him through your eyelashes as he breathed heavily his cock twitching meaning her was close to cumming in your mouth. He puts his hand on your head keeping you there as he whimpered feeling his balls tightened Y/N could feel he was close because of the fact that he fell back into the bed as he lets out loud moans.

She hummed and that’s all it took for Sam to let it go. His legs shaking as he coats her tongue with his cum. “Uargh!” He jerked as you continued to bob your head making him take you off from how sensitive he felt. He looked at you breathing in and out as he watched you swallow him making him groan. But he wasn’t done. He stood up and helped her up turning her to his chest as his hands went down to her clit making her legs spread as he rubs fast circles making her a moaning mess as she calls out his name. He rolled his still hard cock between her legs as her legs buckled from the sensation of his fingers and his cock rubbing on her very wet pussy.

He walked her over to the bed and bends her down slapping her plumed ass making her gasp turning her on even more. He puts his hard dick on her entrance and slammed into her making her jerk forward as she lets out the most intense gasp ever. Sam pulled out leaving his tip inside and slammed again making her cry out in both pain and pleasure as his tip hits her G-spot over and over again. Sam then grabbed her bum and slowly, sensually rolled his hips inside of her as he legs shook almost making her fall if it wasn’t for Sam getting ahold of her. “Oh my god, faster!” She said. Sam pulled her up from her waist and walked her over to the wall and he started to pick up his pace

First he began a steady pace and then he picked it up little by little. And finally he was slamming into her mercifully as his and her hips slapped against one another. “Fuck, so tight, this pussy is mine.” He growled as his long fingers found her clit rubbing hard, fast circles as her legs shook. “Aah, aah! Oh, fuck!” She couldn’t hold in her moans anymore as his long big cock slamming into her walls. She was a mess. Y/N puts a hand on his hip as to easy up the intensity of his cock hitting her cervix in a way that had her seeing the heavens. “You like that, you like that don’t you?” He whispered into her ear panting.

She nodded her head quickly, and yelped when Sam slapped her ass again. “Use your words, babe.” He said as he nibbles on her ear. “Yes! I do! I love it!” She yelled. Sam pulled out and turned her around and seen how much of a mess he made of her. Y/N opens her eyes with so much lust inside of them and she pushed him onto the bed making him fall on to it.

She got on top of him grabbing his dick as she slides down making Sam’s mouth open, his head falling back as his eyes closed as she sinks in making her moan. “Don’t move.” She instructed him. He opened his hazel eyes, just as she started to move her hips making him hiss as how deep he was inside of her. She moaned as he groaned his hands on her hips.

She slapped his hands away. “I told you not to move.” She snapped. Sam looked at her as she got on her feet placing her hands on his chest for support and she started to bounce on his cock making him let out a moan. He wanted to so bad grab her hips and slam into her so hard that she screamed into the air and all the hunters that wanted her heard her calling his name. “Sam, I’m going to cum, oh god!” She shook as her head was thrown back staying still as she shook. Her walls fluttering around his cock as she coats him with her orgasm. She then fell back into his chest breathing heavily as her legs shook a lot.

“My turn.” He said as he grabbed her from the small of her back turning her on her back making her gasp. Sam didn’t care how sensitive she was. But he took her legs wrapping them around his waist, taking a hold of her hips and started to slam into her at a fast pace, his cock started to twitch as she moaned his name. The moans becoming progressively louder. Sam screwed his eyes shut, his teeth grits as his thrust become sloppy. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, fuuck I’m cuuummmung! Ugh!!” He groaned loudly as he released his seed into the condom he was wearing. Spurt after spurt as his nails dig into her.

Letting out one last groan he pulled out and laid beside her both breathing heavily. Y/N’s eyes closing as Sam’s dick softened his hand finding his girlfriend and bring her to his chest. He lets out a breath of satisfaction. Y/N opened her eyes and looked at the time. She groaned as she sat up. “Ellen is about to make her appearance. We should get dressed.” She told her boyfriend picking up his shirt and tossing it over to him. “Yeah, I don’t want to end up as vampire bait.” He told her as she started getting dressed up.

Sam took off the condom filled with his seed tying it up and tossing it into the trash can. Then got dressed Y/N leaned down and kissed him gently. “See you out there.” She said taking out the trash and walked out. Sam groaned running his hands down his face. “What have you done to me.” He whispered like a love sick fool. Then also walked out after the woman.

• 🍓 • • • • ❤️ • • •💋 • 🎀 • 💋 • • • ❤️ • • • • 🍓 •

If you have any requests lmk. I’ll see what I can do. Since I don’t really do stuff like this. I can try. The only things I don’t do. Are daddy kinks or wincest, or age gap or peeing kink. But other than that feel free. I☺️ ps. I’m a destiel shipper but I don’t write destiel smut sorry.

[omgfangirlland]

I've been reading about supernatural reader having a toddler with Dean. And I propose that her and Dean a child, though magic like supernatural reader, can't have a baby naturally for one reason or another so her and Dean make a baby using magic. I feel like it would add another layer to Anxious Dad Dean

(I'm assuming this is all one anon, and I didn't read this through, so sorry for any mistakes)

I'm such a big fan of neglected reader or just batsis in general looking like Martha y'all don't even know- I also have to get this out of my brain before I continue answering:

Reader: I'll get you a baby.

Dean, thinking this is some next level flirting and is shocked you spoke it with Sammy around: *stumbles in incoming traffic*

And the alternative:

Reader: I'll get YOU pregnant.

Dean: Promise?

I can get behind this-

So I have two thoughts- "amazonian" baby girl made from clay and "demon" baby boy gifted by Crowley with a hellhound as a bonus protector.

What I'm saying is twins. I have settled on twins.

The thought would start with Dean cuddling you in bed or on a couch, slightly drunk, after running around with the baby of the family y'all saved that day. Maybe a little jab from you along the lines of him looking nice with a baby on his hip, and him just straight up saying he'd love to have a baby with you, maybe five and a big wedding- "And one of those ugly dogs that the kids will get mad at me for calling it ugly".

And while he falls asleep with no worries, it keeps you awake.

Thinking it through- it was a nice thought. Having a family, a loving one and proving to both of your fathers that you can do so much better. But that was a conversation to happen while sober.

And it definitely happened when Bobby and Crowley were present, and whether they thought it'll be a nice gift or whether they wanted their kids happy (You can't get Dad!Bobby even from my cold dead hands, and I also think Crowley would get attached to you purely because of the zero filter you have) they get their kids a kid-

Well, a kid each. They both thought they had an original idea, alas, they did not. Bobby pulled out an old magic book of Amazonian rituals, and Crowley finally cashes in a "first born" contract and takes a pup so the kid(s) will be protected whenever and wherever.

Now- Dean didn't cry- but he was teary the whole time he held the two(and hissed at Sam when he tried to take one of the kids, honestly, he barely let you hold them, the compromise was you sitting on his lap and holding the kids while he had you three wrapped in his arms). You both were terrified.

Mainly due to the fear of turning into your fathers, but also- you now had two little creatures who despite not needing to be as baby proofed as a human baby, were still fragile little things that needed the best- Sam wasn't sure where all the money came for but when he asked you just smile and said vengeance(Crowley stole a few cards from Bruce and gave one to you).

You, after Dean handed you a blanket: No. Texture is nasty.

Dean, throwing the blanket at Sam who was pulling two carts filled with toys, clothes, 30 different types of baby food and formula milk, dog stuff, and books for the baby and parenting tips for both of you: The texture is nasty, Sammy, we need something better!

Sammy, tired from Dean's constant doubting of everything and anything in this store: I will teach your kids to bite you- (he did teach the kids to bite Dean on command and to give you kisses on another command)

----

Dean, face scrunched as he tastes all the baby food they got: Who thought green beans mixed with banana is a good baby flavor?... Who thought apple, squash and zucchini is?!

You, mixing something in a bowl: Banana and biscuits mush. Very good for adults too. (to this day I eat this, it's such a good munch but fair warning- it can be a texture nightmare for some)

----

You're a more relaxed parent, but you hold the kids more, while Dean takes the "check on the babies every hour to make sure they're breathing" type of parenting- helicopter dad? idk man is stressed and worried 24/7- He chills once they enter toddler stage, but his eyes are always on them to make sure they don't smash their heads against the floor (he's thought a few times during the walking stage to just put the rascals in helmets and rugby padding)

I, personally, would think Morgana or Cersei would be amazing for the baby girl and while I'd itch to name the kid after a prince of hell, I fear Dean would be too superstitious about it- so Lucian, Acheron or Anwir would be something he better agrees with.

Now, the kids are both mischievous once they start walking and talking- not in the brat type of way, but in the trickster "mom said only a cookie but if we entertain dad or uncle Sammy enough we can manipulate them into giving us seconds" type of way. And while the baby girl is the planner of the mischief, the baby boy is the emotional manipulator aka the one who lies better(I also think the boy took after you, quiet and looking more like the Wayne part of the fam but with Dean's eyes while the girl is Dean with your eyes.)

The quote marks around the amazonian and demon are there for a reason- they're not exactly that, but show signs of powers/inclinations. The baby girl has better reflexes than either of you and is more resilient but not to the point WW and Donna are, and the baby boy is more supernatural inclined, senses/sees ghosts and demons in their true forms, is allergic to holy water but not to the point it burns, just a mild itch.

So, coming back to Bruce and his parents seeing the babies, Like I said, Bruce would pass out seeing you with one kid, two of them? Heart failure. Add to that that you look like Martha when the light hits you one way(and he has flashbacks to when his mom died) while looking like his ex wife when the light hits the other way- and little toddler man looks eerily like him- the man is not okay. And the poor baby girl looking like the jobless, national terrorist you found in a ditch(his thoughts not mine)- but that's fine grandpa Bruce is in business- What do you mean you don't want him in your babies lives?

Yeah, he's delusional, not even a bit, straight up thinks he can tell you to leave Dean and you will come back and live here with the kids. Remember when I said Sam will throw hands? Dean will jump across the coffee table before he can. (Martha is cheering him on, but shh. Thomas is just too busy cooing at the young kids to care)

It hurt more coming from you than if the men(he refuses to acknowledge either Sam or Dean) were to call him a deadbeat who could barely be called a sperm donor.

Dick will have an existential crisis with Jason because now they're officially old™️and have niblins, and I think the info will break Damian in the Damian.exe has stopped working way, lil man just can't process that he's an uncle. The rest won't really be affected beyond being sad that they can't see them irl, just in the video the cameras captured.

Bruce in a moment of stupidity would probably try to go the cps route but like- he doesn't know where the fuck you're at, and John C. sure as hell ain't telling him- "Nope, not fucking with people protected by Angels and Demons, you bellend. Lie in the bed you made."

The whole fam learns that what the police records say isn't the full truth, but they still don't deem the Winchesters as good people to be around- and Bruce is really only raising his tension by watching the few CCTV records of Dean slow dancing with you to some old rock music while Sam naps in the booth with the babies, kissing you like you're the most important person in his life- like even then he was mocking Bruce.

Peepaw Crowley starts fucking with the family when he finds out the shit they tried to pull by hitting where he knows they'd be the most inconvenienced at- the businesses, both vigilante and day business.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Heaven and Hell | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, ANNNGGSSSTTTTT, name-calling, mentions of self-hate, depression, anxiety, all the things. all of 'em.

Word Count: 4935

A/N: I will never forgive them for not giving us tatted-up Dean. I would literally sell my left leg for that to exist.

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Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

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“(Y/N),” Uriel ordered, eyes icy. 

Your stomach dropped. 

“Kill.”

All eyes in the room turned to you. 

“What?” you breathed out. 

“Remember what we talked about?” Uriel taunted, referring to the threats he’d made to you. “Kill.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean butted in. “Okay, I know she's wiretapping your angel chats or whatever, but it's no reason to gank her.”

“Don't worry. I'll make her be gentle,” Uriel smirked, nodding at you.

“You're some heartless sons of bitches, you know that?” Dean snarled. 

Castiel spoke up. “As a matter of fact, we are. And?”

“And?” Sam scoffed. “Anna's an innocent girl.”

“She is far from innocent,” Castiel argued. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” questioned Sam. 

Uriel was quickly losing patience. “It means she's worse than this abomination you've been screwing. (Y/N)?”

“(Y/N), no,” Dean begged, eyes flashing to yours. 

You were terrified, unsure of what to do. You didn’t want to hurt Anna, but you didn’t want to find out what happened to Dean or Sam if you didn’t listen.

“Who's gonna stop her? You two? Or this demon whore?” Uriel spat. He threw Ruby against a wall with his powers, and Dean attacked him. 

“Dean, no!” you pleaded, trying to pull Uriel off Dean. 

Uriel snarled, “I’ve been waiting for this.” With little regard to you, he punched Dean across the face. 

Suddenly, a bright light engulfed the room. When it cleared, Castiel and Uriel were gone. 

“What the fuck?” Dean cursed, standing hesitantly. He helped you to your feet while Ruby tended to Sam. “Anna. Anna!” He headed into the back room where Anna was on the ground, covered in her own blood.

The concern he was showing her was slightly worrying you. 

“Are they— are they gone?” she breathed out.

“Did you kill them?” he asked. 

Anna was sitting next to a sigil drawn in her blood. “No. I sent them away; far away.”

“You want to tell me how?” Dean pressed. 

“That just popped in my head.” She nodded at the sigil. “I don't know how I did it. I just did it.”

Your skepticism of Anna was growing by the minute. Maybe Uriel was right. Maybe you should kill her. 

****

Thankfully, the Winchesters shared your skepticism. Still, they thought it best to put Anna in Bobby’s panic room. You sat with Sam researching Anna while Dean put her in the warded room. 

“How’s the car?” Dean asked. 

“I got her,” you replied. “She’s fine. Where’s Bobby?”

“Uh, The Dominican. He said we break anything, we buy it,” Dean answered. 

“He working a job?” questioned Sam.

“God, I hope so. Otherwise, he's at hedonism in a banana hammock and a trucker cap.”

Sam grimaced. “Now that's seared in my brain.”

“Alright, what’d you find on Anna?” Dean asked, leaning over the back of your chair. 

“Uh, not much,” you answered. “Her parents were Rich and Amy Milton: a deacon and a housewife.”

“Riveting.”

“Exactly,” you nodded.

“But there is something here in the report,” Sam added. “Turns out, this latest psych episode wasn't her first.”

“No?” 

“When she was two and a half, she'd get hysterical any time her dad got close. She was convinced that he wasn't her real daddy.”

“Who was? The plumber, hmm? A little snaking the pipes?” Dean smirked deviously.

“Dude, you're confusing reality with porn again,” Sam deadpanned.

“Look, Anna didn't say. She just kept repeating that this real father of hers was mad. Very mad; like wanted-to-kill-her mad.”

“Kind of heavy for a two-year-old,” the older brother noted. 

“Well, she saw a kid's shrink, got better, and grew up normal.”

“Until now. So, what's she hiding?” you asked. 

“Why don't you just ask me to my face?”

You rolled your eyes, keeping your back to Anna who’d obviously just walked into the room. 

“Nice job watching her,” Dean told Ruby.

“I am watching her.”

“No, you're right, Anna,” said Sam. “Is there anything you want to tell us?”

“About what?” she asked innocently. 

“The angels said you were guilty of something. Why would they say that?”

“You tell me. Tell me why my life has been leveled; why my parents are dead. I don't know. I swear. I would give anything to know,” she replied. 

You stared her down. “Tell me why I don’t believe you.”

“Maybe because you’re buddy-buddy with someone who wants me dead,” she stated. 

“And I’m close to wanting you dead, too,” you snapped. “So give me some real answers.”

“Okay!” Sam tried to break up the tension. “(Y/N), take a lap.”

“Happily.”

****

Almost an hour later, Dean was leading a psychic named Pamela into Bobby’s house. She’d helped the boys identify Castiel, and her eyes had been burned out as a result. “We’re here!” the older brother called down into the basement you were hiding in. 

“Pamela, hey!” Sam said, standing from his chair. “It’s me; it’s Sam.”

Pamela felt her way over to the younger Winchester. “Sam, is that you?”

“I’m right here,” he told her. 

“Oh. Know how I can tell?” She grabbed his ass. “That perky little ass of yours. You could bounce a nickel off that thing. Of course I know it's you, grumpy. Same way I know that's a demon, and that poor girl's Anna, and that you've been eyeing my rack.”

Sam began to stammer. 

“Don't sweat it, kiddo. I still got more senses than most,” she snickered. Then, she turned toward you. “Oh, (Y/N).” She slowly made her way over to you, and you held your hand out for her to grab. Despite your attempts to steady her, you yourself were trembling. “Shh, darlin’, it’s okay.” 

Your bottom lip trembled. The last time you’d met a psychic, she’d revealed family secrets to Sam and Dean. There was a lot more this one could reveal now.

“Sweet girl,” she said quietly, “those angels are dicks. Forgive yourself.”

Tears sprang to your eyes, but you fought hard to keep them at bay. 

The woman turned back to Anna. “Hey, Anna. How are you? I'm Pamela.”

“Hi,” the redhead replied. 

“Dean told me what's been going on. I'm excited to help,” the psychic smiled.

“Oh. That's nice of you.”

“Oh, well, not really. Any chance I can dick over an angel, I'm taking it.”

You snorted. 

“Why?” Anna asked. 

“They stole something from me,” she replied, taking off her glasses, referring to her white eyes. “Demon-y, I know. But they're just plastic. Good for business. Makes me look extra-psychic, don't you think?” She laughed. “Now, how about you tell me what your deal is, hmm? Don't you worry.”

After several stress-inducing minutes, Anna sat up from the hypnotic state Pamela put her in. 

“I’m an angel,” the girl revealed. “Don't be afraid, I'm not like the others.”

“I don't find that very reassuring,” Ruby responded. 

“Neither do I,” murmured Pamela. 

“So, Castiel, Uriel— they’re the ones that came for me?” Anna asked. 

Sam piped up, “You know them?”

“We were kind of in the same foxhole,” she answered.

“So, what, were they like your bosses or something?” Dean questioned. 

“Try the other way around.”

“Look at you,” you mocked. 

Pamela spoke up next. “But now, they want to kill you?”

“Orders are orders. I'm sure I have a death sentence on my head.” 

“Care to explain?” you sneered. 

“I disobeyed. Which, for us, is about the worst thing you can do. I fell.”

You nodded, clicking your tongue. “You became human.”

“Wait a minute. I don't understand. So, angels can just become human?” asked Sam.

“It kind of hurts,” Anna replied. “Try cutting your kidney out with a butter knife. That kind of hurt. I ripped out my grace.”

Dean snorted. “Come again?”

“My grace. It's…” she trailed off, searching for the words, “energy. Hacked it out and fell. My mother, Amy, couldn't get pregnant. Always called me her little miracle. She had no idea how right she was.”

“So, you just forgot that you were god's little Power Ranger?” Dean remarked. 

“The older I got, the longer I was human, yeah,” she explained. 

Ruby chimed in, “I don't think you all appreciate how completely screwed we are.”

“Ruby's right. Heaven wants me dead.”

“And Hell just wants her. A flesh-and-blood angel that you can question, torture: that bleeds. Sister, you're the Stanley Cup. And sooner or later, Heaven or Hell, they're gonna find you,” Ruby told her. 

“I know. And that's why I'm gonna get it back,” Anna said vaguely.

“What? Your grace?” you asked. 

She nodded. 

You scoffed, shaking your head and turning away. 

“You can do that?” Dean asked her. 

“If I can find it.”

“So, what, you're just gonna take some divine bong hit, and, shazam, you're Roma Downey?”

The angel shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Alright. I like this plan. So, where's this grace of yours?” Dean asked. 

“Wait, you do?” you scoffed.

Anna spoke over you. “Lost track. I was falling about ten-thousand miles per hour at the time.”

“Wait. You mean falling, like, literally?” Sam questioned, seeming to have realized something. 

You couldn’t even be bothered to focus on what they were talking about and strode out of the room. 

Needing some solace, you went out to the junkyard and sat on top of one of the cars in the middle of the lot. You looked up at the stars, taking in the beautiful and peaceful night sky. You missed when life felt like that: beautiful and peaceful. 

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Pamela called. 

You turned over your shoulder to see Pamela, helped by Dean, heading over toward you. “Uh, hey,” you said, turning forward again. 

“C’mon, talk to momma,” Pam urged you, coming up beside you. Dean stood off to the side with his hands in his pockets. You tried your best to ignore the fact that he was even there. 

“No offense, Pam, but I don’t really know you,” you said.

“Dean, sweetheart, give us just a second, okay?” He nodded, going to stand by his car. When she couldn’t hear his boots on the gravel anymore, she said, “You’re right. But I know you.”

“So, what, you can see into my mind’s eye?” you joked. 

The woman laughed softly. “I can. And I can see what’s troubling you. And I won’t say it out loud if you don’t want me to.”

“I appreciate that,” you told her dejectedly. 

You knew she could tell by your tone you didn’t believe her. “You’re shouldering all this responsibility,” she said. “But it’s not yours to shoulder alone, alright?”

Tears welled up again. “It is,” you argued. “I can’t— They’ll never forgive me.”

“Who won’t?” she asked. “Sam and Dean? Please, those two teddy bears love you.”

Your bottom lip trembled. “I appreciate you trying to help.”

“But?”

“But I’m too far gone.”

****

You watched Anna and Dean from afar as they sat on top of the Impala’s trunk. It hurt your heart a bit given that was what the two of you did when you had your serious talks. 

Rationally, you knew your jealousy wasn’t based in reality. You didn’t think he trusted her, and he wasn’t the kind of person who would cheat on his partner. Still, it hurt to watch the two of them together while your relationship with him felt so strained. 

Sam walked up beside you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said. Neither of you looked at each other.

“I’m sorry,” Sam told you.

“I’m sorry, too,” you replied. 

He sighed. “I know you know more about Dean’s time in Hell than you’re letting on. And I let that get under my skin.”

“Sam,” you started, “trust me when I say you don’t wanna know.” 

You saw him nod and look at the ground out of the corner of your eye. “Uriel’s got you fucked up, man.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I know.” 

“And I know what he told you to do.”

Your heart nearly stopped. You took a moment to steady yourself before saying, “How?”

“C’mon, (Y/N),” he said. “You’re my best friend. Things have been… different, but I still know you.” Tension hung thick in the air while you waited for Sam’s next words. “He told you to kill me if I used my powers again, didn’t he?”

You nodded.

You heard him draw in a breath. “Are you going to?”

You hesitated. 

Sam scoffed.

“It’s not like I want to, Sam,” you stated evenly, still staring out at Dean and Anna. “If I don’t do what Uriel says, he’s gonna make me torture Dean.”

All function in Sam’s body stopped; you could almost feel it even though you still weren’t looking at him. “What?” he breathed out.

“Why do you think I do anything he says?” you laughed through the lump welling up in your throat.

“Does Dean know?” Sam questioned.

You shook your head.

“(Y/N/N), we gotta tell him—”

“No, Sam, we don’t have to do anything,” you cut him off, turning toward him for the first time. “He’s got too much on his fuckin’ plate right now. I won’t do that to him.”

“Don’t you think he could maybe… take away some of the guilt you’re feeling?” he suggested.

You turned away again. “No. It’d only make it worse.”

****

Sam brought you back inside to show you what he’d found; a tree had popped up in an empty clearing within a week in Union, Kentucky. He theorized that’s where Anna’s grace was, and Anna agreed.

However, her grace wasn’t there.

You, Anna, Ruby, and the Winchesters headed into an abandoned barn beyond the tree. 

“We still got the hex bags. I say we head back to the panic room,” Dean suggested.

Ruby scoffed. “What, forever?”

“I'm just thinking out loud!”

“Oh, you call that thinking?”

You squeezed the bridge of your nose, a pounding headache forming. 

“Hey!” Sam protested. “Hey, hey, hey. Stop it.”

“Anna's grace is gone,” Ruby stated, clearly ignoring him. “You understand? She can't angel up. She can't protect us. We can't fight Heaven and Hell. One side, maybe, but not both. Not at once.”

“Um… guys? The angels are talking again.”

The four of you waited for Anna to explain. 

“It's weird; like a recording, a loop. It says, ‘Dean Winchester gives us Anna by midnight, or…’ “ she cut herself off. 

“Or what?” you asked. 

“ ‘Or we hurl him back to damnation.’ “

“Alright, time’s up, sister,” you said, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her outside. 

“(Y/N), (Y/N), wait!” Dean grunted, stomping after you. 

Anna tried to wriggle away. “(Y/N), let me go! You’re hurting me!” 

“Uriel!” you called. 

Dean clapped a hand over your mouth, your surprise giving Anna the opportunity to get away from you. You shook him off you and spun around with your eyes burning in anger. “The fuck, Dean?!” 

“The hell is wrong with you?!” he shouted. 

“Me?” you argued. “What’s wrong with you?! Do you want to go back?”

“No, but I’m not gonna send some girl to her death off-rip!” he scoffed. 

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. 

“What?” he probed, seeing you had something more on your mind. “(Y/N), what?!”

“Nothing, I just find your protectiveness of her really interesting.” You licked your teeth, quirking a brow. 

Dean scoffed and shook his head. “Seriously?” he nearly deadpanned. “You’re pulling that card?”

You furrowed your brows. “It’s not a card, Dean, I can see it! If fucking her is worth going to Hell for, then, by all means.” You threw your hands up in Anna’s direction, noticing that Sam, Ruby, and the angel had all backed away from you and Dean. 

“Where is this coming from? Is this really the time to pick a fight?” he asked. 

You closed your eyes, frowning. “You’re right. Let me go waste my fucking time researching how to kill and angel or a demon with no knife and take on multiple at once. All over one bitch.” You stormed away in complete fury. 

Anna tried to say something to you as you passed. You wheeled around to her and got in her face. “You say one more fucking thing to me, and you’re gone, you got it? I will get Uriel down here so fucking fast, it’ll make your head spin.”

****

You took a machete out to the surrounding woods and just hacked at as many trees as you possibly could. You stood in the center of a ring of six, almost like you were staging a battle, and swung at each with all your might. 

Then, you sat down against one of the trees you’d hacked at. You closed your eyes and rested your head against the bark of the tree. Then, you heard talking a little ways off from you. It was just barely there, but you heard enough murmurings to get your attention. As you crept closer, you felt your blood begin to boil. 

“A little scared, I guess,” the voice you identified as Anna’s was saying. “So, um... Dean... I just wanted to thank you.”

You were close enough now that you were a tree trunk’s distance away from the two figures standing near the Impala.

“For what?” he asked. 

“Everything. You guys— you didn't have to help me—”

Dean cut her off. “Hey, let's can the ‘thanks for trying’ speech, y’know? Participation trophies suck ass.”

She sighed. “I don't know. Maybe I don't deserve to be saved.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Dean told her. 

“I disobeyed. Lucifer disobeyed. It's our murder one, and I knew it. Maybe I got to pay.”

“Yeah, well, we've all done things we got to pay for,” he said, his voice carrying a weight. 

“I got to tell you something. You're not gonna like it.”

“Okay. what?”

“About a week ago, I heard the angels talking,” she started. “About you. What you did in Hell. Dean, I know. It wasn't your fault. You should forgive yourself.”

“Anna, I don't w-want to, uh... I don't want to... I can't talk about that,” Dean stammered. You knew him well enough to know he was keeping tears at bay.

“I know. But when you can, you have people that want to help,” she said. “You are not alone. That's all I'm trying to say.” 

Then, you heard something that nearly had you slitting her throat. She kissed him. Your Dean. 

Thankfully, you didn’t need to reveal yourself. 

“Whoa,” Deans said. “Uh, Anna, you’re great, and all, but (Y/N)’s my girl.”

Despite everything, he still called you that. That made you incredibly grateful, and you were angry at yourself for doubting him. 

“Oh, uh,” she said, “I’m sorry. I just thought— I mean, you never denied being attracted to me when she said something about it earlier.”

“Yeah, I know,” he replied. “And I should have.”

Anna clicked her tongue. “Guess I misread things, then.”

A silence followed. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally told him. Then, you heard leaves crunching as she walked away and back toward the barn where Ruby and Sam were preparing for war. 

When she was far enough away, you walked out from behind your tree, apparently scaring the hell out of Dean.

“Jesus, (Y/N),” he said when he saw you. “You scared the crap outta me.” A small smile tugged at your lips. “Need to go change your drawers?”

He snorted. “I think I’ll be good.”

An almost awkward silence passed between the two of you. 

“Guess you heard all that, huh?” he asked. 

You nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said. 

“I’m sorry, too,” you replied. 

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets. “What’s goin’ on with us, sweetheart?”

You felt both hurt and warmth from his familiar nickname. “It’s not you, Dee, it’s me.” Your lip trembled. 

“Then, talk to me. Tell me what’s going on,” he begged. 

“I can’t.”

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” Dean probed. “We can’t fix us if you don’t tell me.” “He wants me to kill Sam,” you finally said. 

Dean froze. “What?”

“If Sam uses his powers again, Uriel wants me to kill him,” you told him. “And, Dean, I can’t promise you that I won’t if he does.”

Dean furrowed his brow. “What, why?”

“Because you know what he will make me do to you if I don’t listen,” you reminded him. 

“You realize if you… kill Sam, I will never forgive you, right?” Dean said in complete disbelief.

“It’s not like I want to! But I will not put you through what I’m capable of. I won’t do it.” 

He took a moment to think but finally nodded. “Okay.” You cocked your head to the side. “Okay?”

“We’ll find a way out. He won’t use ‘em again, I promise,” he told you. 

You nodded. “Okay.” The relief he was bringing to you made you feel safe enough to let it all out. Tears started flowing freely, and Dean brought you into his chest. “I don’t wanna have to hurt him, Dean,” you hiccuped. “He’s my best friend. And— And I don’t want you to hate me if Uriel makes me hurt him.”

“Hey, let’s not even go there, alright?” Dean said. “We’re not even gonna consider that possibility.” 

You nodded against his chest and sniffed. You looked up at him, eyes still shining as you tried to collect yourself. 

Almost as if spellbound, he said, “You are so beautiful.”

Immediately, you wound your arms around his neck and kissed him. He reciprocated the action, tugging your waist closer to him and biting your lower lip. 

You pulled on his hair with one hand and slid your other down his chest. Then, you slipped your fingers between his belted jeans and stomach, making him suck in a sharp breath. 

“Backseat?” he asked you. 

“Backseat.” 

Every time you and Dean had sex, it was an out-of-this-world experience. He always made you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered to him. Each roll of his hips, each kiss down your neck conveyed everything his words couldn’t. He completely worshipped you; not just your body. Everything in the way he treated you told you he loved you from the inside out. 

You tried to give him that same love. He was your everything, and you wanted him to feel that, too. Despite the storm going on inside you, he was the one thing you were completely sure of. He was the one person you enjoyed fighting with. You’d rather fight with him than love anyone else. Dean Winchester was it for you, and you hoped the way you held him to your chest while he slept conveyed that. 

Soon, your breathing began to match his, the way you stroked his hair slowed, and you drifted off to sleep as well. 

****

When you and Dean woke up, he seemed a lot more stressed than he had been the night before. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked him. 

He shook his head. “Just a bad dream.”

“I’m sorry,” you told him. 

He sat up between your legs and tugged on a fresh shirt from his duffel bag. “It’s fine.” At your concerned look, Dean rubbed the inside of your bare thigh to reassure you. “It’s fine, I’m good.”

The two of you went inside the barn to see if Sam had found anything interesting through the night. 

“I don't know, man,” Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“So, nothing, then, I’m guessing,” you said. 

He shook his head. “Where's Ruby?”

“Hey, she's your Hell buddy.” Dean took a swig of his flask. 

“Little early for that, isn't it?” Anna laughed, the sound of her voice making your blood boil. 

“It's two a.m. somewhere,” Dean replied, voice distant.

“You okay?” she asked him. 

“He’s fine,” you snapped. 

Then, the doors flew open. 

“Hello, Anna,” Castiel said, voice as gravelly as ever. “It's good to see you.”

“How? How did you find us?” Sam asked, confused and startled.

“Dean?”

Dean turned to Anna. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Sam asked. 

“Because they gave him a choice. They either kill me or kill her,” Anna explained, nodding at you. “I know how their minds work.” She looked up at Dean, who couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. “You did the best you could. I forgive you.” Then, she stepped forward. “Okay. No more tricks. No more running. I'm ready.”

“I'm sorry,” said Castiel. 

The angel shook her head. “No, you're not; not really. You don't know the feeling.”

He shrugged. “Still, we have a history. It's just—”

“Orders are orders, I know.” She drew in a breath. “Just make it quick.”

Then, a bleeding Ruby appeared with a demon and Alastair. “Don't you touch a hair on that poor girl's head,” the latter sneered. 

“How dare you come in this room, you pussing sore?” Uriel growled. 

Alastair chuckled darkly. “Name-calling. That hurt my feelings, you sanctimonious, fanatical prick.” 

“Turn around and walk away now,” Castiel ordered.

“Sure,” the demon shrugged. “Just give us the girl. We'll make sure she gets punished good and proper.”

“You know who we are and what we will do. I won't say it again. Leave now, or we lay you to waste.” 

“Think I'll take my chances.”

You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. You drew one of your knives from your jacket and threw it at Alastair. He caught it easily, chuckling. Then, all Hell broke loose. Castiel attacked Alastair, Uriel exorcised the other demon, and you stood back near Sam. 

Then, Alastair tried to exorcise Castiel. Dean reacted by picking up a crowbar and hitting him over the head with it. 

Alastair turned around slowly. “Dean, Dean, Dean... I am so disappointed. You had such promise.”

Your attention was quickly taken away from Dean and the demon by Anna rushing Uriel. She smashed the pendant from around his neck on the ground, and a brilliant white light began to flow into her mouth. “Shut your eyes,” she said, quietly at first. “Shut your eyes! Shut your eyes!”

You cowered into Sam’s side, the two of you shielding each other with your jackets. When it seemed the light had gone away, you reopened your eyes. Uriel, Castiel, and Ruby’s knife were all that remained of the battle. 

“Well, what are you guys waiting for? Go get Anna. Unless, of course, you're scared,” Dean taunted. 

“This isn’t over,” Uriel said.

“Oh, it looks over to me, junkless,” your partner retorted. 

Castiel and Uriel disappeared. 

“You okay?” Sam asked Ruby. 

She shook her head. “Not so much.”

“What took you so long to get here?”

“Sorry I'm late with the demon delivery. I was only being tortured,” she scoffed. 

You shook your head, smiling slightly. Of course, the Winchesters had a bigger plan all along. 

“I got to hand it to you, Sammy. Bringing them all together all at once; angels and demons. It was a damn good plan,” Dean told his little brother. 

The brunet shrugged. “Yeah, well, when you got Godzilla and Mothra on your ass, best to get out of their way and let them fight.”

You rolled your eyes. “Now you’re just bragging.”

“So, I guess she's some big-time angel now, huh? She must be happy; wherever she is.”

“I doubt it,” you murmured. 

****

When all was said and done, you and the boys were off again. 

About four hours into your drive, Dean pulled off to the side of the road for a bit of reprieve. 

Sam took the opportunity to get a beer out of the trunk, and the three of you sat on the hood of the car together. 

“I can’t believe we made it out of there,” Dean said. 

“Again,” you snorted. You reached across Dean to clink your beer against Sam’s. 

Dean broke the momentary silence. “I know you heard him.”

Sam cocked his head to the side. “Who?”

“Alastair. What he said... about how I had promise.”

You stared down at the pavement in front of you knowing exactly where this conversation was heading. 

“I heard him,” Sam nodded solemnly.

“You’re not curious?”

“Dean, I'm damn curious. But you're not talking about Hell, and I'm not pushing.”

Your partner took a deep breath. “It wasn't four months, you know.”

“What?”

“It was four months up here, but down there…” Dean trailed off. “I don't know. Time's different. It was more like forty years.”

“My god,” Sam murmured. 

“They, uh... “ Dean choked out. “They sliced and carved and tore at me in ways that you— until there was nothing left. And then, suddenly, I would be whole again; like magic. Just so they could start all over. And Alastair, at the end of every day— every one— he would come over. And he would make me an offer.” You could hear him holding back sobs. “To take me off the rack if I put souls on; if I started the torturing. And every day, I told him to stick it where the sun shines.” He paused, taking in a shuddering breath. “For thirty years, I told him. But then I couldn't do it anymore, Sammy. I couldn't. And I got off that rack. God help me, I got right off it, and I started ripping them apart. I lost count of how many souls. The— the things that I did to them.”

“Dean,” Sam tried. “Dean, look, you held out for thirty years. That's longer than anyone would have.”

The older Winchester couldn’t hold back his tears anymore. “How I feel— This— Inside me— I wish I couldn't feel anything, Sammy. I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-nesmith @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[hexedwinchester]

Supernatural S04E21 When The Levee Breaks

This my favourite episode ever! Can you guess why?

of course it means it will also be heavily anti Dean. Dean girlies, this ain't for you.

God, Dean getting pissed about Sam lying, as if Dean hasn't lied to Sam before is getting me pissed off

Sam's angry "Dean!" Is so hot

it makes me so angry that Dean and Bobby left Sam to deal with the detox all alone. How could they? And the fact that it didn't occur to Dean that Sam could die during that? Like wake up!

no Bobby, he is not here because you love him too much. He is here because you are scared of Sam!

Poor Sam, all alone, screaming for help, terrified of everything happening to him, not sure what's real what's not and they left him to rot in there! What's even worse? They cuffed him to the bed and left him to wake up alone again ?! 😤

at least Bobby had the sense to doubt their actions whereas Dean was busy being self righteous. Pull that stick Outta ur ass, Dean

ahhh Jared played the junkie role so well! The tremors, the trembling hands, the blinking eyes, the seizures, the agitation!!!

I know Jared's a professional but don't tell me he didn't have fun manhandling Ruby a bit!

Sam had no right sexualizing drinking demon blood 😍 sorry, I'll allow the demon blood drinking if it's this hot

Dean, honey, you did exactly what Ruby did. Left Sam alone. You're not better than her just because your eyes don't flash black. Yet.

that exchange between Sam and Dean is so important to me. Despite Dean locking Sam up, he is glad to see his brother and wants him to join him to bring down Lilith but Dean.. he just can't give up control, can he? The one time Sam's begging him to trust him but nope. Sam is still so understanding but the moment Dean calls him a monster..damn!

Woohoo!! That punch was so long overdue! Anyone else noticed that sexy roll of Sam's shoulders?

Dean should be glad Sam doesn't get physically violent as often as Dean does. He would get his ass handed to him

no matter how much of a dick Dean has been to Sam, the one thing that I never liked was Sam strangling Dean. Like, honey, no! You are better than this

seeing all the shit Dean has pulled through the seasons, i realised just how forgiving Sam is. He doesn't punch him back everytime Dean hits him. He never brought up Dean calling him a monster or the corrupted voice mail. He trusted him even when Dean said he was going to say yes to Micheal. He moved past Dean killing Amy. Sam is too good. Dean.. eh!

[thirdsaltyhunter]

Cassette Tape

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: the story of a gifted cassette tape over the course of you and Dean's relationship

Warning: fluff/angst, talk of character death, heartbreak, season 3/4 references

A/N: this is a Christmas fic like Die Hard is a Christmas movie

2006

Not long ago you had met the Winchesters through Bobby and helped them out on a one or two hunts. Right off the bat, you made a good team. You and Sam were starting to hit it off, sharing an interest in supernatural lore and serial killers. You and Dean... eh not so much. You were caught somewhere between hating and loving his give 'em hell attitude.

After the impala got totalled by that demon, Dean had spent weeks fixing her in Bobby's shop. You had made him promise that once he got her running again, that he would take you for a drive. What could you say, you had an appreciation for beautiful cars.

Now that he had rebuilt her to all her former glory, you, him and Sam had set out on the back roads of South Dakota. Dean had stopped at a gas station to top off the tank. While he filled up and Sam went in to get a drink, you leaned over the front seat and rummaged through his box of cassettes. Led Zeppelin. Ozzy Osbourne. Styx. AC/DC.

"You have good taste in music," you commented as him and Sam got back in the car.

"Thanks," he gave a proud smile "pick what you want to hear," he said motioning to the box.

At this comment Sam gave Dean a look somewhere between offense and confusion. You didn't know Dean well enough to know that he never let anyone pick the music. Even though you were choosing from his music, it was still odd. Sam just shook his head and chose not to say anything. From the box, you picked out a cassette and handed it to him to put in the tape player.

"Good choice," he said, when he recognized which album it was.

You smiled and sat back in the seat, air drumming to the beat.

2008

What better way to spend Christmas than to help the Winchesters hunt a pagan god? That's sarcasm, you would much rather be in a warmer state than Michigan, but they had called you for intel and you happened to be not far away. It's a good thing you came, because they were chasing false leads and managed to get themselves tied to a chair.

After offing the murderous Hallmark Christmas couple, you were going to go back and spend Christmas with Bobby. That was until Sam had offhandedly mentioned that Dean wanted to have a real Christmas this year, as it might be his last. Your chest ached at the thought. You hated that he made that stupid deal. As much of a pain in your ass as Dean was, him and Sam had become some of the only friends you had.

You called Bobby and he agreed that you should stay. You made the decision then that you were going to help Sam scrape together the best Christmas you possibly could, whether Sam liked it or not. Funds and resources were limited, but you thought you did pretty good with what you found at the gas station. You weren't going to mention the decorations you had stolen from someone's front lawn... or the poor excuse for a tree Sam had cut down.

It was all worth it to see the look on Dean's face when he came back from picking up take-out. When he walked through the motel room door, his eyes lit up.

"What made you change your mind?" He asked Sam.

Sam glanced at you and looked down, not wanting to answer the question, so you changed the subject.

"Here, try the eggnog," you said, handing Dean a glass.

He took a sip and made a face from the significant amount of alcohol you had spiked it with.

"We good?" You asked with a teasing smile.

"Yeah we're good," he coughed. "Hey I thought you were leaving, why are you still here?"

Now it was your turn to not want to answer the question. "Bobby said a snowstorm was headed his way, so it was best I just stay here." Total complete lie.

"Well I'm glad you stuck around... First things first," he said setting the bag of food he had gotten on the coffee table and pulling out the presents he had gotten for Sam from the gas station.

"Great minds think alike Dean," Sam responded, pulling out his presents he had also picked up from the gas station.

Sam had gotten him a quart of oil for the car and his favorite candy bar. You had picked out a nice (as nice as you could get at a gas station) bottle of bourbon.

"These are awesome, thanks," Dean said with a bright smile. He glanced at you before getting up and grabbing his keys. "One second," he said holding up a finger to you, before disappearing out the door.

You and Sam shared a look of confusion. Dean returned seconds later holding a small item in his hand.

"Here." He handed the item to you. It was the cassette you had picked out to play that day in the car. "It's yours." He looked down and shifted awkwardly. "Also any other tapes you want you can have." You knew what was going through his head: I won't be using them soon.

"Thank you, you know I'll play the hell out of it." You put it in your jacket pocket and tried not to think about the time when you would be listening to it without him.

May 2009

Dean was gone. And you had fallen in love with him. What better time to realize you're in love with someone, than after they get dragged to hell and now you can't get out of bed anymore. Just your luck I guess.

Since he died, you've been staying at Bobby's and trying not to think about anything. Eventually you decided to get off the bench, get back in the game and start hunting again. Now you're sitting in your car, waiting out the horrible rainstorm you had gotten caught in on the way to the town where the case was. To pass the time and drown out the sound of your own thoughts, you pop in Dean's cassette. Laying back in the seat, like so many nights lately, you cry yourself to sleep.

August 2009

Somehow, by some miracle literally, Dean Winchester was alive and breathing. You could hardly wrap your head around it. It should be impossible, but hey, you had a knack for the impossible.

You, Dean and Bobby were now driving to go find Sam so you could tell him that Dean was alive. While you drove, Dean sat in the passenger seat looking a little zoned out. Not that you could blame him, if you suddenly got pulled out of hell, you'd be reeling too.

To pull him out of his thoughts a little, you turned on some music. The first thing that played was the tape that was in the player, the one Dean had given you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a small smile grace his lips as he recognized the song.

"This the one I gave you?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yeah, I guess you'll need it back now," you answered with a smile. You were more than happy to return Dean's cassettes. He was alive and that's all that mattered.

"I gave it to you, sweetheart. Me being back doesn't change that."

It amazed you. Him saying that was proof to you that, despite going through literal hell, his caring, giving heart was still intact. If anyone had an excuse to be cold and selfish it was him. Yet the more you got to know him, the more he shocked you with how loving he was. Your heart clenched with the weight of emotion you carried for him. Though now certainly wasn't the time to go admitting any feelings. He had enough to process as is. So instead you just smile at him and he looks at you like you're the first beautiful thing he's seen in a long time.

"Alright enough you two, you're makin' me sick," Bobby chastised from the back seat.

You just laughed and turned up the music.

[justwhisperingfantasies]

Another piece for @jarpadversebingo

Square Filled: One Bed.

Pairing: Soulless Sam X Fem Reader.

Warnings: Language, Drinking, Supernatural Violence, Soulless Sam, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Unprotected Sex (NO!), P.I.V, Oral F. Receiving, Fingering, Sexual assault, Cannon with a twist. Let Me Know If I Forgot Any.

Summary: It's Been 12 months Since Sam Winchester Confessed His Love And Then Took The Jump, Sacrificing Himself To Save The World. When A Vampire Hunt Goes Wrong An Unexcepted Hero Saves Your Life.

Special Thank You To : @copperboom82 thank you so much for being my beta and all the help 🤍

My Tag List

Part 1 Part 2

You closed your eyes and braced as you wait for the throat slashing to begin, but a warm liquid sprayed across your face instead. You opened your eyes, shoving the headless vampire corpse off you. You got to your feet, wiping the blood off your face.

As your eyes adjusted to the dim light you can see a tall silhouette. Your blood ran cold, ‘it can’t be’ you thought. He turned to face you and there he was. Sam Winchester. You eyes went wide as you gasped.

He gave you a half smile. “I’ll explain later. Right now, we have to get out of here.” Sam grabbed your hand and pulled you forward, his grip strong and reassuring. “This way,” he urged, leading you down a narrow corridor. The ancient stone walls felt as though they were closing in, and the echoes of your hurried footsteps added to the growing sense of dread. “There’s an exit just ahead.”

“Sam, it won’t matter.”

“Just trust me, ok?”

You could see dawn breaking through the archway of the exit

“Almost there.” Sam promised.

“Sam!” you cried out, feeling fingers wrap around your ankle, you fell to the ground, forehead bouncing off the rough stone below. Your vision blurred as the ringing in your ears made your head throb worse. You could barely make out Sam’s words.

“Y/n! Y/n, Damnit.” You felt his arms lifting you as the darkness washed over you.

When you regain consciousness, you realize your surroundings changed. The damp corridors of the rundown building were replaced by a small, unfamiliar room. The scent of herbs and incense filled the air.

You could feel eyes on you, you peeked not opening your eyelids all the way. Sam was sitting in an armchair in the far corner, watching your every move.

“I know your awake.”

“How do you know?”

He chuckled. “Because I know you.”

“What are you?” You asked, making him lift his brows. “A demon? A ghost? Shifter?”

“None of the above.”

“Then what?”

He stood up, grabbing a knife. “Silver knife.” He winced as a drop of blood began to roll down his forearm.

“Holy water.” He picked up a jug of water with a rosery hanging from it and took a big swig,

“Salt.” He poured the white crystals onto his tongue, making a face as he closed his mouth

“Iron.” He picked up a candle holder.

You slowly rose to your feet, “It’s really you…”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to touch his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips. “But how? Sam, I watched you jump in...”

“I wish I knew. I woke up in a field alone.”

“Castiel?”

“I’ve tried Cas, hell I’ve tried reaching out to Crowley. Nothing.”

“And Dean?”

“Dean got his happy ending, well as happy as a hunter can get. I’m not ruining it and I’m not about to let anyone else ruin it.” He retorted. “I looked for weeks and got nothing. I decided to quit wasting my time.”

His words echoed in your mind as you stepped back, ‘Weeks?’ you hesitated. “Sam, how long has it been?”

He sighed.

“When did you wake up in that field?”

“Almost 12 months ago… give or take a day”

“You’ve been out this whole time, and you. didn’t even.”

“By the time Bobby and I found you.” He cut you off. “He said you were better.” He explained “Over me.”

You scoffed a laugh.  “Over you...”

“Seemed like you were getting there with that biker douche.”

“Oh, don’t even act like a jealous ex-boyfriend Sam Winchester.” The anger running through your veins made your voice raise. You walked over to the door “It was your choice to not reach out.”

You heard whispers as you walked the halls of the unfamiliar house. Eavesdropping, stepped up to the cracked door.

“I don’t understand why we had to help her, and why did we have to bring her back here?”

“Because Sam cares about her, Therefore we care about her.”

“Yea, but.”

“Christian, let it go. I ain’t gonna tell you again.”

“Do you want to meet them?” Sam asked walking up behind you.

“Who are they?”

“Campbells.”

“As in..”

“Yep.” He said pushing the door open.

The two men looked over, “Sam how is she?” The older man asked.

Sam side stepped,

“Ah, she’s awake. How are you feeling darlin’?”

“Confused.”

“Yea I get that.” He said.

“y/n this is Samuel Campbell.” Samuel walked over to you with his hand out.

“Mary’s dad,” you breathed taking his hand.

“She knows about your mom?” Samuel asked looking over at Sam.

“She knows everything.”

“Not exactly.” you stepped back. “Aren’t you suppose to be dead?”

“Well, we have a theory, whatever pulled me up, pulled him down.” Sam told you.

The younger man grumbled something under his breathe and walked out.

“That’s Christian, third cousin.” Sam told you.

“Not a big people person huh?”

Sam chuckled. “He’s ok once you get to know him.”

“Hey Samuel. Oh hi.”

“Gwen, y/n. y/n Gwen. Also cousin.”

“Pleasure.” she nodded.

“Same.”

“Do you need a change of clothes?”

You looked down, Blood and dirt splattered and smeared all over you.. “My duffle is in my truck…” You looked over to Sam with wide eyes.

“Do you really think I’d leave your truck behind?”

You squinted as you stepped outside, the bright sunlight glared in your eyes.

“You ok Champ?” Sam smiled “there's been a lot dropped on you today.”

“Honestly, it’s all still processing.”

“That’s fair.” He tousled his hair. “Can I help?”

“Not sure.”

“What is it?”

“What’s what?” you asked with a furrowed brow.

“The question you’re too scared to ask.” you narrowed your eyes. “Like I said babe, I know you.”

“Well, you already kind of answered it, I guess but it just bothers me you didn't call.”

He sighed as his eyes fell. “I know, I should have. I guess Bobby saying what he said and then seeing you with that guy…” He looked back up at you “I got scared.”

You head tilted “Really?!”

“Yes, I didn't want to reach out only to be shot down”

“Samuel William, when have i ever shot you down?”

“Fair.” He rubbed at the nape of his neck. “but I didn’t want to hear it, if you were over me.”

You chuckled walking towards the porch stairs. “Honestly, I don’t think I could ever get over you Sam.”

“I think you could if you tried.” you heard his voice from behind you, while you were bent over in the backseat of your truck.

You grabbed your duffle and stood back up, facing him. “Now, why would i do that?”

“Why wouldn't you?”

“Sam, what are you not telling me?”

“Nothing.” You peered at him. “y/n I swear.”

“Sam, I know there’s.”

He pulled you into his embrace cutting off your words. his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent. “God, I missed you.”

The silence  rang in your ears as you lay on your stomach, pretending to be asleep. The weight of the night pressed heavily upon your chest, every creak and whisper of the room conspiring to keep you awake.

His presence lingered in the air, a palpable energy that set your nerves on edge. You could almost hear his breath, soft and deliberate, as though he were trying to coax you into revealing your wakefulness.

Minutes felt like hours as you lay there, battling the urge to confront him. Finally, the weight of his gaze became too much to bear. You rolled over, finding him sitting in the armchair positioned in the corner. “Are you just gonna sit there staring all night?”

He chuckled. “There’s only one bed sweetheart; what do you expect me to do?”

"Could always find another room," you quipped, rolling your back to him and sticking your ass out on purpose. "No one's making you stay here.”

“Is that really what you want?”  he challenged, as you heard his footsteps getting closer. Your breath hitched as the bed dipped below his weight. “Sam…” His fingertips skimmed up your thigh, as he leaned into your ear “Tell me to go if that’s what you want.” his hot breath tickling your ear.  “Right after you tell me why you're wearing these.” He whispered as he played with the hem of your tight biker shorts.

“They are comfortable.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” his hand cupped your curves “It’s not because you know how good your ass looks in them?”

Your heart quickened as he trailed kisses down your neck. “Sam.” You whimpered as your core thrummed with desire.

“Do you want me to stop?” his fingers gripped your hip. “No,” you managed to get out as he grinded his length against your backside. “I didn’t think so.”  His grip tightened, rolling you on to your back, his hungry lips captured yours as he climbed on top of you. Fire coursed through your veins as he ground his hard shaft against your clothed center, muffling your moans with his lips as he continued the motion.

His hand slid up your shirt, “No bra again?” He murmured as his hand cupped your breast. You inhaled sharply as his hand started to knead firmly at the soft tissue. Your fingers twisted in his hair, pulling his lips back to yours. His fingertips glided down your stomach, your walls clenched as they found your clit. You moaned into his mouth as he started tracing circles over your shorts.

He leaned back on his knees, his gaze filled with hunger and desire. Feeling his hands grip the waistband of your shorts, you lifted your hips, and Sam slowly slid them down your legs. His lips were back on yours as his weight fell on you, taking your breath away. He trailed kisses down your neck while pulling your t-shirt up to your collar bone. Chest exposed, he dipped his head and drew another moan from you by flicking at your nipple and then taking it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak. His fingers found your clit and then dipped between your folds. A growl escaped his chest when he felt how wet you were

You moaned his name as he slid a finger into your entrance. His tongue danced over your abs as he made his way down. He inhaled your sweet scent, You moaned praises of his name as his tongue started lapping at your clit. He slid another finger inside you without stopping his tongue.

He flashed you a mischievous grin as your walls clenched around his fingers and went back to work.

Your hands gripped at his hair as his fingers pumped faster. The tension got tighter as he began to pump harder. “Sam, don’t stop.” you moaned almost to your peak

“You gonna come for me baby.” the pain mixing with pleasure as his finger slammed into you.

“Yes.” You cried out as your release crashed over you, the vibration from his groan intensifying your orgasm as it coursed through you.

He looked back up at you, his fingers still harshly penetrating as he helped you ride your high out.

Once your walls stopped pulsating, he leaned back on his knees, he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off. Looming over you again, his tip teased your entrance

“Tell me you want me.” He demanded in a whisper

“I want you Sam.”

“Good girl.”

You moaned as he dipped inside of you, stretching you slowly “Fuck baby.” He groaned “So tight.”

He drew his hips back, then buried himself back inside. Electricity coursed through you as he started pounding into you.

The sensations were overwhelming, feeling his engorged cock sliding in and out, hitting your spot like no one else could, his lips on yours, the intoxicating smell of his skin, his outlined back muscles beneath your fingertips.

Your nails dug into his skin as the tension started building again. He stopped when your walls started throbbing. He pulled out as a light chuckle left his lips. “Not yet princess.”

With one quick motion and a small yelp your face was in the pillow. He slid his hand under your hips and lifted you up on all fours, growls rumbling in his chest as he palmed your ass. “It looks even better without the shorts.” Stinging pleasure followed as he slapped it.

He lined up his tip again, and pushed back in, your moans echoed through the room as he thrusted.

His long fingers wrapped your throat as he quickened the pace. You walls clenched again, making him groan.

“You wanna come?” He grunted, his thrusts getting harder.

“Yes.” You whined.

“I think you could do a little better than that.”

“Sam please.”

Another groan replied to your words as he wrapped his free hand below your hips, rubbing your clit with his fingertips. The tension started again.

He growled and thrusted harder. Your walls clenched tighter as the tension reached its peak. “Let me feel it.” He demanded, biting at your neck.

You cried out his name as the bliss washed over you again,

“Fuck” He moaned as your walls convulsed around him, making his hot seed coat them. Heavy pants filled the air as he slowed his pace, riding your highs together.

He pulled your back to his chest as he slid out of you, wrapping his arms around you he planted a kiss on your cheek.

“Well, that was different.” you commented laying your head on his chest.

“Good, different?” He asked, running his fingers through your hair.

“Absolutely.”

You blinked awake, stretching your arm you found an empty bed.

The door swung open, and Sam walked through coffee in hand. “Rise and shine.” he said handing you a cup of coffee.

“Oh my god is this?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dean coffee.” He said with a mocking tone.

You inhaled the a rich, warm inviting aroma. “Oh, I missed Winchester coffee.”

”Really Winchester coffee now?”

You sipped “mmmm.”

“I think you missed the coffee more than me.” He teased, sitting in the armchair in the corner.

“Does that really surprise you?” you played along

“Not at all.”

You got up to get dressed, his lips twisted into a smirk as his eyes scanned your exposed skin. “Can I help you?”

”Nope, just thinking about throwing you down on that bed and having my way with you.. again.” He winked.

“Have a question.” you said pulling the shirt over your head.

“Of course you do.”

“How did you know where i was last night?”

He sighed. “I really didn’t know you were there until I saw your truck. We had been tracking that group of vamps for weeks.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “While we're on the subject, don't you think it was kinda stupid going into a camp nest by yourself.”

“One, I wasn’t by myself when I went in.” The images of the fellow hunter flashed through your mind.

Sam grabbed your hand and pulled down into his lap. “Two?” he asked once you head was readying on his shoulder.

“There weren't that many when we followed him.”

“So, who was he?”

“A friend of my mom’s.”

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“Thanks. I only knew him a couple days.” you swallowed hard. “He told me stories about her though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, apparently this one time she took 3 werewolves down… by herself.”

He chuckled lightly. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“I miss her.”

“I know.” he kissed the side of your head. “You need to go see Bobby.”

“I do?”

“He thinks you hate him.”

“Why would he think that?”

“Well he said you told him you would be back before your drive off, and he never even got a call.”

“Are you really going to lecturing me about calling people?!”

He rolled his eyes. “Are you ever gonna let that go?”

“Eventually.”

“Bobby!” you shouted as you walked through the door.

“y/n?” You heard his groggy voice answer from the library.

“Hey old man.” You teased as he wrapped his arms around you

“Balls.” He said as Sam walked in the door behind you. “What’s wrong?”

“Something has to be wrong for me to come see you?” You asked.

“No, but if he's with you something's wrong.” Bobby walked over to Sam.

“Actually he saved my life, if you can believe that.”

Sam scoffed a laugh “Wow!”

“You two wanna tell me what the hell happened?” Bobby snapped

“I tracked down some of Mom’s friends.” you explained. “I found Dave.”

“As In Dave Fleming?”

“Yes. We went out for a beer started reminiscing about mom.” You took a breath. “When we noticed a suspicious guy sitting at the bar. Turns out he was a vamp, who had a whole lot of friends.”

Bobby got into the fridge. Pulling three beers out, he handed one to you and one to Sam. Then cracked his open.

You sighed and took a drink “Dave didn’t make it.”

“Damn.”

“It’s my fault. I should of left him alone.” You whispered.

“Damnit, y/n what have i told you about that shit.” Bobby sneered. “Hunters know what they are getting into, ain’t nobody's fault”

“If it wasn’t for him.” You nodded to Sam. “I wouldn't of made it either “

“Eh, I had help,” he told Bobby.

“You're still hunting with the Campbell's?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How's that going?” Bobby asked sitting down at the table.

“Going good” Sam sat across from him.

“So, what's the plan now?” Bobby asked taking a drink.

Sam looked over to you. “We haven't really talked about it, Bobby.” He told him.

“Ya could always get out, settle down.”

Sam let out a belly laugh.

You looked at him with furrowed brows.

“Yeah, like you're gonna get out.” He said still laughing

“Idk, Dean seems happy.” You blurted out.

His eyebrows raised. “You’ve talked to Dean?”

“Yes..”

“When?”

You sighed. “About a week ago. He called to check in.”

“Huh, well good thing you have Dean to check up on you.” Sam rebuked.

“Yea the whole 12 months you were gone.” You used air quotes on the word gone.

Sam’s jaw clenched as eye peered at you.

“Bobby, does Dean check in with you?” His eyes lingered on you while he asked Bobby.

Bobby cleared his throat as Sam's eyes moved to him. “ Sometimes, but not often.”

“Hmm.” Sam’s head tilted bringing his gaze back to you with pursed lips.

You rolled your eyes at him and pushed off the counter. Your eyes scanned the library once you made it to the doorway, finding empty whiskey bottles scattered everywhere, open lore books covered the surface of the desk, and the mini trash can next to it over flowing.

“Hey Bobby.” You looked back at him. “ Is your maid on vacation?”

“Oh hush mouth,” he grinned at you.

“Ya know, you didn't have to do all this.” Bobby told you gesturing to the now clean house. “But thank you.”

“It's nothing.” You said scrubbing the last dirty pan. “ I'm sorry.”

Bobby furrowed his brows at you.

“I should have at least called.”

Bobby held up his hand. “You’re not the one that should be apologizing. I should of told you Sam was out, but he was so dead set that you were over him and.” Bobby started when he noticed you head tilt. “What?”

“Nothin.”

“Uh, did you forget who you are talking? That face wasn't nothing.”

“Later.” You said barely audible.

Realization washed over Bobby's face as Sam's footsteps changed on the aluminum floor.

“So, Samuel just called.”

You turned around and leaned in the sink.

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s a case.. if you're interested.” he told you with challenge in his eyes.

“Interesting.”

Bobby’s eyes darted between you and Sam. Then he rolled them with a sigh. “Oh hell. Go. You both know you want to.”

A corner of Sam's mouth rose to a half smile.

Bobby stood in front of you as you stood by the driver’s door of your truck. Kicking at the rocks in the drive way.

“I'll be back Bob.”

He narrowed his eyes at the name, making you laugh.

“He's different. Ya know?”

“Well sweetheart he was possessed by the devil, and spent a day in hell. In a cage with him.”

“Yeah…”

“I'm sure he's just working stuff out.”

You sighed. “Fucking Winchesters.”

Bobby chuckled. “Fucking Winchesters.”

You made it half way back to the abandoned house that the Campbell's claimed, before Sam broke the silence.

“You should of told me you and Dean talk regularly.”

“I wouldn't call it regularly.”

“He shouldn't have to worry about you.”

“He doesn't. He knows I'm a big girl that can take care of myself. Just likes to check in every now and again.”

Sam stayed quiet as he looked out the door window.

“Why are you so jealous?”

He scoffed. “I'm not.”

“You sure are acting like it.”

“Trust me sweetheart, I’m not jealous.”

“Hmm. K.” You pressed your lips together, not able to hide that his words stung a little bit.

He grabbed your hand and laced his fingers through yours. “Baby, I didn't mean it like that.” He raised your hand bringing your knuckles to his lips. “I just don't want him to get roped back into all this shit.”

“I get it, Sam.”

The Campbell's were loading their cars when you pulled in front of the house.

Sam rolled his window down as Samuel walked up. “We got ‘em, but we have to go now. Are you guys ready?” .

“Let me grab my stuff outta my car.”

Samuel nodded and went back to helping load.

Walking back over Sam gestured, asking if you wanted him drive. You shrugged. Driving didn't really bother you, you were used to it.

He opened the driver's door. “Scooch, you've been driving a while.”

You pulled the arm rest up and did as you were told. “So, what's the plan?”

“Didn’t say.”

You looked at him with wide eyes.

“Don't worry Samuel will have one.”

A pit formed in your stomach as Sam pulled up behind the Campbell's van.

“An old abandoned factory... imagine that.” You teased giving Sam a smile.

He gave you one back. “We should feel right at home.”

You hop out of the truck and follow Sam to the huddle.

Samuel gives the plan as you approach. “Alright, From my guess there is three maybe four. Sam, you and I will enter from the East. Mark, you and y/n will enter west. Now there is no South entrance. So Christian, Gwen you take the north.”

“Here.” Christian handed out syringes full of a white substance. Creases formed in your eyebrows are you took it. “It’s Djinn Poison Antidote.”

Your eyebrows shot up as a smile formed on your lips. “ Djinn Poison Antidote?”

“Yeah,” Christian replied.

“How in the world did you guys get Djinn Poison Antidote?”

“I made it.” Samuel chimed in.

Sam glanced at you with a pleading look. You sighed, but kept your mouth shut.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

“I don’t know,” you started to say to say, hanging back a beat.

“Babe. They are some of the best I’ve ever seen. If I didn’t trust Mark you wouldn’t be going with him.”

“We ain’t got all night.” Christian sneered.

Sam gave your forehead a quick peck and then followed Samuel.

You gestured for Mark to lead as you walked to your ordered entrance.

You eyes scanned as they adjusted to the dark room, and you reached for your flashlight, but Mark stopped your hand with a head shake.

You followed Mark down the hallway, making your foot steps extra light. The hallway led to a big open space, with conveyor belts and machinery sitting around. You looked across the warehouse finding Sam and Samuel searching.

Sam gave you a smile when his eyes met yours. His smile turns to panic as he looked over your shoulder. “Baby!!”

You spin around to see a human shaped figure behind you. You strike with your knife but the figure is faster. Twisting your wrist until you unvoluntary dropped the knife. His other hand grabs you by the throat.

You breathes become shallow as he starts squeezing harder, feeling the fingertips digging into your skin.

You desperately clawed at the hand crushes your windpipe, your feet now kicking in the air.

Your vision went blurry, your lungs screaming for air, the roaring in your ears getting louder.

Your ass suddenly hit the floor, the hand no longer around your neck, oxygen rushing back into your lungs so fast it a it sent a burning sensation through your entire chest.

“Babe? Babe?” Sam as you gasped for air, unable to form words just yet.

His hand cupped your cheeks as he lifted your hand,

“You ok?”

“Yea,” you managed through pants. “I’m good.”

“Deep breathes, darlin’” Samuel told you kneeling beside Sam.

You followed his orders and got your breathing under control. “What the.” you took another deep breath. “Fuck was that?”

“It looks human.” you heard Mark say.

You coughed and took another breath. “Definitely was not human.”

Samuel hopped up and walked over to the corpse, pushing up it’s sleeve he revealed the markings. “It’s a fucking Djinn.”

“You sure you're ok?” Sam asked starting the engine of your truck.

“Yes. My throat hurts, but I am ok.”

He popped the arm rest up and leaned over to your, wrapping his arm around your waist he pulled you over to him. Your eyes closed as you rested your on his shoulder. His arm tightened around you.

You blinked awake, the evening sun shining a bright glow through the windshield of your truck.

“Almost there, baby.” Your head jolted up as you heard a familiar voice.

You pushed off of him as hard as you could slamming your back into the passenger door. “Lucifer…”You breathed.

“Hey there hot stuff.”

“What do you want?” you asked as your heart started to race.

“Aww you know what I want?” You blinked as Nick’s body turned to Sam “I want him.”

“No.” You pulled a blade out of your glove box, biting back tears. “You can’t have him.”

“Well. He’s already said yes once.” He waggled his eyes brows.

You gripped your knife. “I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch.”

Sam.

“Almost there baby.” He said as he noticed her waking. He gave her a smile when she looked up at him.

The truck swerved as she flung herself to the other side of the car. “Lucifer…” She whispered.

“What the fuck?” Sam shrieked.

“What do you want?” She asked as her breath quickened,

“y/n what the hell are you talking about?”

“No.” She grabbed for the glove box, pulling a blade out once she got it opened.

“Whoa. Whoa.” Sam pulled off the road.

“You can’t have him.” tears stinging in her eyes, as she gripped the knife tighter.

“Hey, what is going on?”

“I’ll kill you, you son of bitch.”

Sam grabbed the door handle and jumped out of her truck as she lunged with the knife.

“What the hell is going on?” Samuel rushed to him.

“I. I don’t know. She feel asleep and now she’s talking about you can’t have him,” Sam stammered. “Then she pulled a knife on me.”

“Where’s the antidote?”

Reader.

“Get out of him now!” you shouted as you made your way of out the truck.

He slammed his hands on either side of your head against the truck window.

“No way baby. He’s mine now.” Your throat throbbed, getting squeezed for the second time today. “But you know, you are pretty damn hot. We could share him.”

You whimpered as he started rubbing at your core through your jeans. “Oh I can hear him in here. He likes it. I think he wants me to keep going. Do you want me to keep going princess?”

He pressed his body up against you as his lips collided with yours, Hot tears streamed down your face as he shoved his tongue inside your mouth. “Oh come on baby. You know you want me. Sammy is just screaming for me to keep going.”

His grip on your neck got tighter as your head fogged.

You blinked awake finding Sam in the same chair as before.

“Are you?” You sat up.

“No babe, I’m not Lucifer. It’s me. Watch.” Sam picks up a book, “Remember the story Cas told us, about Lucifer?” Holy Bible is written on the front with a big cross under it.

“Yes.”

He rubbed his hands over the book and then held the cover to his bare chest. “No burns.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently, we are dealing with a whole new level of Djinn. They look like normal people and can spread their poison by touch.”

“Ok, so they show you what you fear most…”

“Yep.”

You grabbed your phone off the night stand as it started to buzz. You sighed and hit the green button.

“Dean?”

“y/n where are you?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Probably nothing, never mind.”

You looked up as the door opened, Sam walked through.

“Dean, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I had a few beers with a buddy tonight, went to get in my truck, heard a scream. I went and checked it out.”

“And?”

“It’s so weird. There was blood, and claw marks, but there’s no missing person’s. no police reports.” He scoffed a chuckle. “Am I just being crazy?”

“Dean I’ll be there as soon as I can ok?”

“Wait, Why?”

“Like you said it’s probably nothing, but I’ll come up and check it out ok?”

“Ok, see ya soon.”

You hung up and looked at Sam. “We gotta go.”

Tag List

@mochminnie @misatxox @idk6505 @kamisobsessed @barnes70stark @nightxcreature @quietgirll75 @nancymcl @hobby27 @hunter-or-the-hunted @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @deansimpalababy @roseblue373 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @phoenixqueen @spnaquakindgdom

[winchesterwild78]

A Little Bit Stronger 

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Language, body image issues, Dean being a dick, John being a dick, angst, light smut, assault

A/N: I was stuck in traffic on my way home today and my playlist started playing the song “A Little Bit Stronger” by Sara Evans, and it got me thinking about a story where the reader had dated Dean for years, they broke up and she’s dealing with the loss of their relationship. She’s learning how to move on, and she’s slowly getting better. Then out of nowhere, the green eyed hunter pops back into her life. Mention of Supernatural characters, but doesn’t follow the timeline. 

I’m not sure how long this will be. Maybe a chapter or two, or maybe one really long chapter. 

All work is my own, I don’t give permission for it to be taken or posted anywhere else. Feel free to reblog. 

Minors DNI 18+

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

You pulled the blanket over your head when your alarm went off. Turning over after turning it off. Not feeling like getting up or going to work. Let’s be honest, you didn’t feel like doing much of anything lately. 

Knowing you were going to be late you slowly climbed out of bed. 

Getting out of bed used to be so much easier when you had something, well someone to look forward to. 

You met Dean Winchester and his younger brother Sam about 10 years ago. They were on a hunt, the same one you were on too. 

Of course you’d heard all about the Winchester Brothers. The ones Hell itself couldn’t hold. They were feared and respected in the hunter community. 

You remember the night you met them, like it was yesterday. That was the night you fell in love with Dean. You were pretty sure he had fallen in love too, even if he wouldn’t admit it. 

You were working on clearing a vampire nest, when these two giants came in and tried to take over. 

You and Dean lunged at each other, both thinking the other was a vampire. Dean’s machete swiped against your collarbone, causing a gash to appear, and you to pass out. 

“Dean, she’s not a vamp. Stop! You’re going to kill her!” You remember Sam yelling before you passed out. 

Before Dean got that slice in, you were holding your own against him. 

You woke up a few hours later to the soft whispers of the brothers, and the hum of an air conditioner. 

When you went to sit up, you realized you didn’t have a shirt on. Just your bra. Grabbing the blanket and holding it up, you looked at the brothers. “What happened, where am I, and who the hell are you?” 

Sam offered a soft smile, Dean sat with a tight jaw. “I’m Sam and that’s my brother Dean. You’re at our hotel. We brought you here to patch you up. When you and Dean were fighting, his machete cut you pretty bad. You passed out from blood loss, so we brought you here.” 

Your eyes blinked a few times before talking, “You’re Sam and Dean Winchester?!” The boys exchanged a quick glance. Sam questioned, “So you’ve heard of us. Which means you’re either a monster, demon or hunter.” 

“I’m Y/N, a Hunter. My parents were hunters and used to hunt with Bobby and Rufus. I grew up in this life, like you guys did.” 

“Well, Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. I have to ask though, why are you hunting alone?” 

“Oh, my parents retired so to speak and are living a quiet life together, my brother is married, with kids and a “normal” life. My boyfriend and I just broke up.” 

You noticed the older Winchester kept his distance and his eyes locked on you. When you mentioned a boyfriend his jaw tensed more. Normally when someone is staring you down it makes you uncomfortable, but with him it made your heart race and your cheeks flush. 

You’d occasionally make eye contact with him and you were completely mesmerized by his piercing green eyes. He would shift in his chair anytime you looked at him or bit your lip. 

“Well thank you guys for patching me up. I need to get going though. Where’s my shirt?” That’s when you realized your pants were gone too. “And where are my pants?!” Panic filled your body. 

Did they take advantage of you? Sam and Dean saw your panic. That’s when the eldest Winchester spoke. His voice was gruff and sent a shiver through you. 

“Hey, calm down sweetheart, your shirt was ripped and covered in blood, your pants were too. We didn’t think you’d want to sleep in clothes covered in blood.” 

Embarrassment rushed through you. “Yeah you’re right, sorry. I’ve just met my fair share of bad people. I didn’t mean to accuse either of you of anything.”

Dean stood and stepped closer to you, “it’s okay. Just know we would never hurt you.” 

You were lost in each other’s eyes when Sam broke the silence by clearing his throat. “Guys I’m gonna grab some food. I’ll be back soon. Y/N, you like burgers?” “Yes, that sounds great. Thank you.” You softly smiled. 

Sam left, closing the door behind him. Leaving you and Dean in the room together. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes. Then you broke the silence, “Um, Dean. I really need some clothes. I can’t just walk around in my bra and panties. I don’t want to traumatize you or Sam.” You chuckled softly, but you meant it. 

Sam and Dean were good looking and you’d heard about “Dean’s type”. You were far from it. Where he liked thin, flat stomach, busty women, you had a stomach, extra weight in places, you were thicker than most, and your breasts were slightly different sizes. 

Dean looked at you, tilted your chin slightly and whispered “You could never traumatize me.” Red filled your cheeks and you bit your lip. 

Was Dean Winchester really flirting with you? Most definitely not. Maybe he just sees you as an easy screw, cause you’d give in to him in a heartbeat, but you’d never been a love them and leave them person. 

You pulled the sheet up more and tried to look away. Dean kept his hand on your chin, “I’m so sorry I hurt you sweetheart. I would have never hurt you if I knew you weren’t a monster.” 

Feeing brave you stood up, sheet still around you, you touched his cheek, “I know Dean. It was an accident. I do still need some clothes though. Maybe a shower too.” 

Before your brain could process what was happening, Dean leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “So beautiful” he whispered. “Come on, let’s get you in the shower. You can borrow some of my clothes.” 

Your mind was racing. Dean Winchester just kissed you. What the hell was going on?! 

Your heart was pounding in your chest and ears as Dean grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the bathroom. 

“Dean I can do this myself, I’m not that injured.” You tried to protest. “I know, but where’s the fun in that.” He winked at you. 

Holy shit! Dean is flirting with me and that kiss oh my god. I never thought a single kiss could make me instantly wet. 

You smirked at Dean, “What’s your plan Mr Winchester?” “Whatever you want Ms Y/L/N. I know what I want, but it’s up to you.” 

“Dean I don’t know what to say. I’m not like the women you’re usually with. I can’t do one night stands.” 

Dean stepped closer to you and pulled the sheet away, your breath quickened. He leaned down and crashed his lips to yours. Pulling your body flush to his. Your hands went behind his neck and into his hair. Moaning in his mouth you felt your body responding to his touch. 

When his lips pulled back he said “Then don’t.” 

That night Dean and you had sex in the shower, on the bed and the couch. You stayed with the boys after that. Your relationship with Dean deepened. 

About three years ago you and Dean were talking about how your parents were able to get out of the life and live normally. You explained to Dean it was a hard process and one that took a lot of work on their part. They eventually made it. 

Laying in Dean’s arms was your favorite place to be. Your head was on his chest and he mindlessly ran his fingers up and down your arm. 

“I love you baby. So much. Marry me?” You gasped softly and leaned up, “Dean, do you mean it?” “Yes, sweetheart. I want to marry you and have children with you. If your parents could do it, I’m sure we can too.” 

Tears streamed down your face, “Yes, Dean. I’ll marry you.” Dean pulled you into a kiss. When you leaned back he slipped a small diamond on your finger. “It’s beautiful, baby.” 

He kissed you again. The past few years with Dean had been amazing. You both learned to navigate your love while you hunted side by side. Sam had found someone too, Eileen. She was his perfect match. The four of you were great together. 

There was however one obstacle in your life, John Winchester. You’d met John a few times over the years, and each time the tension was palatable. You tried your best to charm him and get him to approve of your relationship, but he refused. He said you were nothing but a distraction and a way for Dean to pass the time after a hunt. The words hurt, but nothing could prepare you for what was to come. 

The morning after Dean proposed, he called Sam and told him he finally did it. Sam and Eileen were over the moon. Then came the phone call that scared you the most. Dean had to call his father. 

Dean sat beside you on the couch and called John. “Hello, Dean.” John’s gruff voice boomed through the line. “Hey dad, I need to tell you something.” “Dean if you’re about to tell me you fucked up and got Y/N pregnant I’ll beat your ass.” Dean’s eyes went wide, “What?! No, dad, she’s not pregnant.” You scoffed when you heard that. “Well, then what is it son?” “Dad, I asked her to marry me. She said yes. We’re getting married.” 

There was silence on Dean’s end of the phone. The only sound was your heart pounding in your ears. 

You reached for Dean’s hand and he pulled away, getting up. He started pacing the room, his jaw tight with anger and frustration. You knew John was saying something to him, because he was nodding and would occasionally let out a “Yes, sir.” 

It seemed like hours before Dean hung up. When he hung up he looked tense. “Dean, what did he say?” “Don’t worry about it.” He snapped. You flinched at his tone. Dean had never spoken to you like that before.

You looked down at your lap and fidgeted with your hands, “Okay, Dean.” He stormed outside and slammed the front door behind him, making you jump. You were determined to find out what happened, and if Dean wouldn’t talk to you, then you’d go straight to the source. 

Taking out your phone you dialed John’s number. A few rings later John answered, “What do you want, Y/N?” “Well hello to you too, John. I wanted to know what you said to Dean. He was mad and left.” “Good, he came to his senses. Look, you’re a nice girl, but you’re not right for Dean. He doesn’t really love you. The only woman he’s ever loved was Lisa. She’s a better match for him than you could ever be.” 

Your breath caught in your throat, he’d never mentioned Lisa. “John, why are you so cruel? Dean loves me and we are getting married, whether you like it or not.” John laughed and you growled in frustration. “Keep thinking that, sweetheart. I need to go. Have a nice life, Y/N.”

He hung up and you were fuming. 

You tried to call Dean but he didn’t answer. As the night wore on you slipped further into despair. Did Dean leave me? Was John telling the truth about Lisa, and does Dean really still love her? Why won’t he come home? 

You softly cried until the tears wouldn’t fall. You curled up on the couch and fell asleep. Around daybreak you heard Dean stumble in. You sat up looking at Dean. He was drunk, and you noticed the faint smell of perfume and you saw a hickey on his neck.

“Dean, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.” “Aww don’t be like that sweetheart, I was just having some fun. It’s been too long since I had any fun.” Your heart clenched at his words. “Dean, I don’t understand. What’s going on with you? You left without saying a word, came home drunk, smelling like another woman and you have a hickey. I thought you loved me, wanted to marry me.” 

“Well you thought wrong. I was wrong. This (he motioned between the two of you) was fun while it lasted, but I think it’s time to move on.” You sat stunned, speechless. “Dean, you don’t mean that. You’re drunk and not thinking clearly.” “No sweetheart, that’s where you’re wrong again, I’m thinking very clear. You were right all those years ago, you aren’t my type. I mean maybe if you lost a little weight and actually tried to be pretty.”

You let out a gasp, and before you knew it you slapped him across the face. Your heart broke. “Dean, why are you doing this? What the hell happened?” “I’m finally thinking clearly, my dad reminded me that I’m truly in love with Lisa and she’s the mother of my child, Ben. I owe it to them to make it work.” 

“Dean, please don’t do this. How can you just walk away from us?” “Easy, I’m packing and moving in with Lisa and my son. I spent last night with her and it felt good to be back in her arms.” You felt sick to your stomach. 

Dean walked into your shared room and grabbed his duffel bag and started packing. You sat on your bed and watched him pack, silent tears falling. With each item he packed your heart broke more. As Dean put the last thing in his bag he glanced over at you. With a tremble in your voice you tried one last time, “Dean please don’t walk away from us. I love you, and I know you love me. Please don’t do this. We can figure this out.”

Dean just looked at you and grabbed his bag. You followed him to the door, “Dean, before you go, here.” You slid the ring off your finger and handed it to him. His eyes filled with sadness as more tears fell from yours. “I’ll always love you, Dean.”

He turned and walked out the door. You collapsed on the floor.

It was 3 years ago today that Dean Winchester broke your heart. You’re slowly getting better, but days like today, anniversary days are hard. You moved in with your parents temporarily, got a pretty good job working at the office your brother worked at, and now you had your own place. 

As you opened your closet to get dressed for work you glanced over and saw the t-shirt Dean loaned you the first night you met. Your fingers lightly brushed over the fabric and the happier memories came flooding back. 

You’d kept in touch with Sam and Eileen. They had since gotten married and had a little boy. They left hunting and Sam went back to law school, becoming a lawyer. You’d occasionally ask about Dean, and Sam would tell you he was okay. You also found out that John had died in a car accident about a year ago. You knew Dean would have been devastated. 

You got to work about 10 minutes late. Sitting at your desk your mind wandered to the thought of Dean. You missed him so much, but with each passing day you got a little bit stronger. You knew you’d never fully get over him. He was the love of your life and you were supposed to marry him and have his children. Now he’s in the arms of another woman. 

Your friend from work, Libby invited you to the bar with her and a few other colleagues. It was Friday and it had been a long week. At first you weren’t going to go, but decided to drink until you forgot him. You went home after work, changed and caught an Uber to the bar. 

You decided to wear your jeans, low heel boots and a nice top that revealed just enough. You put your hair up in a messy bun and applied some light makeup. Stepping out of the Uber you saw Libby at the door. “Hey, Y/N! So glad you could make it.” She pulled you into a hug. 

You and the rest of the people in your group settled at a table at the back of the bar. Drinks flowed and you were starting to get tipsy. One of your male colleagues, Ryan, came out too. He’d flirted a few times with you, but you never gave in. You, Libby and a few other girls got up and started dancing. Libby leaned into you and said “Don’t look now, but Ryan is watching you.” You glanced over and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You smiled at him. “Yeah, I don’t know.” “Come on girl, it’s been 3 years. You can move on.” You hadn’t thought about Dean all night, now he’s all you could think about. 

“I’m, um, gonna get some air.” Libby nodded sadly. She knew how much you had loved Dean and how much it broke your heart. You grabbed your jacket and walked outside. Taking out your phone you scrolled through the pictures of you and Dean. You sighed sadly, “I miss you so much Dean. I miss how happy we were, how in love we were. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you.” 

Tears started to flow freely. 

You stood outside a few minutes longer looking at the pictures of a happier time. The sound of a voice pulled your attention up. “Hey ya sweetheart.” That voice, you knew that voice. You looked up and saw Dean standing in front of you. He looked good. You were speechless. 

“How are you? You look good, sweetheart.” “Dean…I…” Your words stuck in your throat. He stepped closer to you, and his thumb brushed your cheek. “Still as beautiful as ever.” 

Fury filled your body after what he said, “Dean, what are you doing here?” You stepped away from him. “I was here at the bar tonight with some work buddies and I saw you. I needed to talk to you. It’s been too long.” 

You scoffed, “It’s been too long?! Dean, you’re the one who walked away, not me. You threw our relationship away. You proposed and then the next day you slept with another woman and left me for her. Oh and let’s not forget I found out you had a kid I didn’t know about. I heard you were engaged again, Congratulations. I hope you and Lisa have a wonderful life together.”

You started to walk away, but Dean grabbed your arm, “Baby, please.” You tried to free yourself from his grip, “Don’t baby me. You lost that privilege when you chose another woman over me. It’s taken me 3 years to finally get to where I am. I don’t cry myself to sleep every night, and I don’t question my worth as much anymore. I was doing all of that because of YOU! I gave you everything, EVERYTHING! I loved you. I wanted to marry you and have your children. Goodbye, Dean.”

As you started to walk away you glanced at him one last time, “Just so you know Dean, I still love you. I wish I didn’t, but I will always love you.” You walked away, heading towards the bar so you could get your Uber. You needed to get away from Dean. Just being near him made your heart clench with pain and love. 

Dean stood frozen, he had been keeping a secret from you he desperately needed you to hear, but would you listen? Would you really care? 

Just as you reached the door, Dean grabbed your arm, “Y/N, please I need to tell you something.” You turned and looked into his green eyes, you saw pain, sadness and love. “Y/N, I love you sweetheart, I was a fool to push you away. I want to come home to you. Please baby.” You’d waited 3 years to hear him say that, but your heart was scared. You wanted him to profess his love to you, but was he being genuine? You were afraid what would happen if he wasn’t, you couldn’t bear to get over him again. 

“Dean, it’s too late. You’re in love with Lisa, she’s your fiance and had your son. I can’t and I won’t compete with that.” He stepped closer to you, “Sweetheart, she’s not my fiance, we broke up, and Ben isn’t mine. She said he was, but he isn’t. I ended things with her because I realized I wasn’t in love with her. There’s been only one woman in my life that I truly loved, well love. Because I still do. I love you.”

“Dean, I don’t know what to say. You said some really horrible things to me.” “I know, but I knew if I didn’t you wouldn’t let me go. I’m so sorry. I‘ll spend the rest of my life trying to fix this, fix us.” “Then why did you do it, Dean?” 

“When I talked to my dad that day he played into my fears, my fears of losing you, of our children having to grow up without you or me. He also told me it was safer with Lisa and that Ben was mine. I’m sorry sweetheart, I believed him. My life has been miserable the past three years. There hasn’t been a single second where I didn’t think of you.”

You scoffed, “Then why did it take you three years?! If you were that miserable, why did you warm her bed for three years, while mine was cold? Dean, I can’t do this. Please just let me go.” You turned as the tears started to fall. 

Making your way to the front of the bar, you called an Uber and waited out front for it. Standing outside waiting, Ryan came out of the bar to talk to you. “Hey, Y/N, leaving so soon?” “Yeah, I’m just tired and need to go home.” Ryan touched your arm, “Hmm that’s a shame. I was hoping to have gotten at least one dance with you.” You smiled softly as a blush filled your cheeks.

Ryan was a good looking man, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about him. Maybe it was the raw emotions you were feeling, or the bravery brought on by the alcohol, but you leaned into Ryan and placed a kiss on his lips. He pulled you closer to his body and his hands went in your hair, deepening the kiss. You moaned into his mouth. 

As the Uber pulled up you and Ryan climbed in. Not able to keep your hands off each other. Once in the car, Ryan started kissing your neck. You leaned your head back and as you looked out the window you saw Dean standing on the sidewalk with a look of shock and sadness on his face.

A few minutes later you and Ryan were walking into your apartment. The two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Clothes began to fly and hands roamed. You moaned into his mouth as his body hovered over yours. You hadn’t had sex with anyone since Dean. 

Trying to push Dean out of your mind you decided sex with Ryan would help. As things heated up between you and Ryan, you grabbed a condom from the side table. Ryan slid it on and pushed in. You gasped at the feeling. He definitely didn’t give you time to be ready or adjust like Dean did. Ryan was rushing, you tried desperately to chase your release, but it felt like Ryan was only concerned with him. Stop! Stop comparing him to Dean! He’s not Dean, he will never be Dean.

Tears began to fall. You were about to tell Ryan to stop, but his lips crashed on yours in a forceful kiss. He wasn’t gentle at all. His thrusts were hard and angry. You weren’t enjoying yourself. Trying to slip your hand between the two of you, so you could get off, proved to be the wrong move. Ryan became angry, “What the fuck are you doing?!” “I’m trying to get off too.” “No! You don’t get to touch yourself. I’ll get you off.” “Well, you’re not going to fucking me like you are.” Ryan slapped you across your face. 

You screamed in pain and tried to push him off of you. “Get the fuck off of me!” “No! You don’t get to start this then tell me to stop.” “The fuck I can’t! Get the fuck off NOW!” Just as you were about to knee him, you felt Ryan being pulled away. 

When you looked up you saw Dean, he pulled Ryan off of you and punched him over and over. “She said get off of her! Don’t you ever fucking touch her again or I’ll kill you! Now get the fuck out!” Dean growled. 

You’d grabbed the sheet and pulled it around you. Ryan grabbed his stuff and left calling you a whore under his breath. As soon as he was gone Dean was at your side, “Are you okay, sweetheart? Did he hurt you?” The tears started to flow freely as Dean pulled you into his arms. His sweet, protective arms. You buried your face in his chest and cried as he held you. “I’m sorry Dean. I left with him to make you jealous. This is all my fault.” 

“No baby, this isn’t your fault. You’re okay now, he’s gone.” “And you’re here. Protecting me like always.” “I’ll always protect you, sweetheart. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.” 

Dean helped you up and you went to the bathroom to clean up and check your face. There would be a bruise, but things could have been so much worse. You got cleaned up and dressed, when you walked back into your bedroom, you saw Dean laying on your bed with his boxers on and nothing else. “Come on sweetheart, get some sleep. I’ve got you.” He offered his arm and you curled up next to him. You laid on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as you drifted off to sleep.

When Dean was sure you were asleep, he placed a soft kiss on your head, “I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” 

Part 2…..coming soon

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[anonymousewrites]

Nobody's Soldier (Book 1) Chapter Six

Found Family! Supernatural x Teen! Reader

Chapter Six: Mark of the Witness

Summary: While trying to find out more about angels, the Winchesters an Bobby stumbled upon a case, and (Y/N) gets caught up in it.

            (Y/N) listened to Dean and Bobby going through a variety of weapons in the garage. They leaned back on the chair they were reading it, legs tucked under them on Bobby’s porch. They had been reading all day, and everything kind of just…repeated itself. Angels are God’s messengers, they serve various purposes, they fought wars against evil, etcetera, etcetera. Their powers were described, but all-in-all, the lore felt like a lot of…nothing.

            (Y/N) set the book down, sighed, and looked the sunset falling over the backgrounds of the country. The crunch of gravel caught their attention, and they watched Sam pull back in. The impala drove up to Dean and Bobby, and (Y/N) itched to go down, but with the book open on their lap and their instructions from Bobby to “research,” they knew they were supposed to stay where they were.

            I wish I could at least hear what’s going on, grumbled (Y/N) as Bobby walked to Sam and spoke to him.

            “Keep the engine running,” said Bobby to Sam before he got out of the impala.

            “Why? What’s going on?” asked Sam, frowning.

            “I got a friend one state over—Olivia Lowry,” said Bobby. “I’ve been trying to reach her about this angel thing before we even met the thing, and it’s not like her to ignore this many calls.”

            “Olivia Lowry…” Sam furrowed his brow. “A hunter, right?”

            “Yeah, we’re gonna go check on her,” said Bobby. “You guys follow me.”

            “Yeah,” said Sam, nodding.

            “Scoot over,” said Dean, appearing on the driver’s side of the impala.

            Sam listened, and Dean got behind the wheel of his beloved car.

            Sam paused and looked at the teenager watching them from the porch. “What are we going to do with them?”

            “Bring em with us,” said Bobby.

            Sam furrowed his brow. “I don’t think we should get them caught up in this.”

            “They’re probably say it’s a little late for that, and they’d have a point,” said Dean.

            “Dean, we shouldn’t bring them into this life,” said Sam.

            “They’re there,” said Bobby.

            “We started younger than that,” said Dean.

            “That doesn’t make it okay,” said Sam. “This is dangerous.”

            “Yeah, and they’re gonna need to learn,” said Bobby. “And you two might be ijdits, but you’re the best hunters I know. Better to watch and learn from you than some idiots who’ll get them killed instantly.”

            “I’m not teaching them to hunt,” said Sam.

            “Grow up, Sam. They want it. They’ll keep looking for monsters,” said Dean. “Would you rather leave them here?”

            Sam groaned. He knew the danger that lay with Lilith. If she became aware of (Y/N), they’d get dragged into this near-war, and then they’d never have a chance to get out of the life. Sam wanted the teen to get out. It was only them who didn’t care, Dean thought they should have hunter skills for survival, and Bobby was being ridiculously practical.

            “Alright.” Bobby patted the top of the car. “Follow my car.”

            Bobby turned away and headed to the porch.

            “I don’t like this, Dean,” said Sam. “They could get out of the life. But this thing with Lilith and now angels…They’re a kid.”

            “Sam, they watched demons murder their parents. Do you think they could step away from this? Our family couldn’t,” said Dean.

            Sam’s jaw tensed. He remembered John’s grief over Mary and obsession with hunting. He remembered himself being pulled back in with Jess’s death. Unfortunately, Dean was right. These wounds didn’t heal. They simmered, infected you.

            He watched (Y/N) stand as Bobby spoke to them. No hesitation. (Y/N) was in. Sam could only hope they didn’t end up a child dead before their time, another casualty of the hunting life.

l

            “Shoot first, ask questions later,” instructed Dean as Bobby handed (Y/N) a sawed-off shotgun. (Y/N) nodded.

            Bobby led the way towards the door of Olivia Lowry’s house. He nudged the front door open, and he warily looked around each corner, gun raised. Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) followed.

            “Olivia?” called Bobby.

            He rounded a corner, and his shotgun lowered. (Y/N) knew that wasn’t a good sign. They looked, and they saw Olivia. Her body lay on the ground, blood staining her whole front, her chest raked open in a gory mess. Her ribs stuck up in the air, peeled open in a bloody display of strength. A salt line lay before her, useless in protecting her. Behind her was a closet full of weapons and tolls. It hadn’t saved her from her gruesome fate.

            Instantly, Bobby turned and walked out.

            “Bobby?” said Dean, but Bobby’s fists just clenched around the shotgun in anger and grief.

            (Y/N) stared at the body. This is the type of danger they’d been in during their life. The supernatural world was full of death and loss. They could be the body next time. And yet…(Y/N) only felt a resolve to try to do justice. They wanted to find what had taken Olivia’s life and get rid of it.

            Sam stepped forward to look at the body and the evidence around it. “Salt line,” he observed. He knelt beside her while Dean and (Y/N) remained standing.

            “Olivia was rocking the EMF meter,” said Dean, looking at the tools.

“Spirit activity,” said Sam.

“Yeah, on steroids,” said Dean. “I’ve never seen a ghost do this to somebody.”

“I thought ghosts couldn’t pass salt lines,” said (Y/N), frowning.

Sam narrowed his eyes. It was a good point. It couldn’t have been just a ghost, then.

            The creak of floorboards announced Bobby as he reentered the room. Sam stood, and everyone looked at him.

            “I called some hunters nearby…” said Bobby.

            “Good. We can use their help,” said Sam.

            (Y/N) heard Bobby’s voice trail off. “They aren’t answering their phones, are they?” Dread curled in their stomach.

            Bobby grimaced and nodded grimly.

            “Something’s up,” said Sam, knowing that the other hunters had experienced the same fate as Olivia. There was no hoping in the hunting life.

            “You think?” said Bobby, staring at Olivia’s body. “We gotta check on the other hunters.”

            Sam nodded. “We’ll split up.”

            “Bobby, you stick with (Y/N), Sam and I’ll go together,” said Dean.

            (Y/N) and Bobby nodded.

            “I’ll get on Carl Bates and R.C. Adam. Jed’s close by, too. You check on him,” said Bobby.

            “Got it,” said Dean. “Tell us the address.”

l

            “Dean and Sam…can you tell me anything about them?” asked (Y/N) as Bobby drove.

            He glanced at them. “Their business is family.

            “Nothing too personal. I just—I want to understand,” said (Y/N). “Why they hunt. Why Sam doesn’t want me to hunt. They keep talking about it, and it’s confusing.”

            “Sam…He doesn’t want people to die. He’s got a good heart. Hunters die one way, on a job. And you’re young,” said Bobby.

            “Dean says they started that young,” said (Y/N).

            “Their father wasn’t the best,” said Bobby. “He…He tried, but he lost his wife to a demon. John never got over that. He wanted revenge for Mary, and killing monsters became that. Dean and Sam got dragged into the life because of that. Demons preyed on them, on Sam. Azazel, Yellow-Eyes, especially.” Bobby shook his head. “This world is dark. Dean is realistic about you not getting out now that you’re so far in. Sam wants things to be different.”

            “But they can’t be,” said (Y/N). “Not for me. Not now.”

            Bobby pursed his lips. “No. They can’t. I’m sorry.”

            (Y/N) didn’t reply. They just touched their necklace absently, missing their parents. “Can you tell me stories? Of hunting? Sam and Dean…they seem really strong.”

            Bobby smiled. “They are.” And although they were his boys, he was happy to speak of them.

            And (Y/N) listened in wonder at the feats of Sam and Dean Winchester.

l

            (Y/N) and Bobby sat in his car after they had checked both houses. He had his phone on speaker as he called Dean. Both Carl and R.C. were dead, chests ripped open identically to Olivia. Additionally, like her, there was a salt line near their bodies, meant to protect them but ultimately proving useless.

            “Dean, did you get there?” asked Bobby.

            “Yeah,” said Dean. His tone indicated he had found the same gruesome scene as (Y/N) and Bobby. “We’re at Jed’s. It’s not pretty. He looks even worse than Olivia. What about you?”

            “We checked on Carl and R.C. They’ve redecorated. In red,” he said as he drove down the highway.

            “What the hell is going on here, Bobby?” said Dean. “Why did a bunch of ghosts suddenly want to gank off-duty hunters?”

            “They can’t be ghosts. There are salt lines in front of every body,” said (Y/N).

            “Kid’s right,” said Bobby. “But I don’t know what could do this. Until we do, you better get your asses to my place.”

            “We’re on our way,” said Dean before hanging up.

            “Whatever’s killing hunters is going to come after you, Dean, and Sam, isn’t it?” said (Y/N).

            Bobby nodded.

            “Okay. Then lets kill it before it hurts you,” said (Y/N) firmly.

            They liked Sam, Dean, and Bobby. They weren’t family, but they didn’t want them to die. They weren’t letting another damn monster take away more people they liked and were giving them a place in this world. Without their parents, these strange but kind hunters were the only people (Y/N) even knew. Besides…(Y/N) was a hunter. It was time they acted like one.

l

            “Bobby,” said (Y/N) quietly as they entered his house. “Something’s off.” And as they breathed out, steam appeared. The temperature was unusually cold—a sign of ghostly activity.

            Bobby nodded. His suspicion could be called paranoia by the common person, but something felt…wrong as he entered his house. Carefully, he picked up an iron poker. (Y/N) held their salt-loaded shotgun tightly.

            The radio switched on, tuning itself with the violent sound of static. Bobby narrowed his eyes and walked forward, clearing each room of his house. (Y/N) followed, turning occasionally to watch their backs while Bobby looked forward. They entered the hall where a lamp flickered.

            Thud! Thud. Thud.

            From upstairs, heavy thuds echoed downwards.

            Thud, thud, thud.

            A tiny ball, like that of a child, bounced down the stairs, rolling to a stop at their feet. Bobby’s eyes widened, and (Y/N) knew in an instant he recognized it. At that moment, they whirled, feeling a cold presence behind them. Bobby turned with them, and his eyes widened.

            Twin girls—faces dirty and dresses ripped—stared with empty eyes at Bobby. They lunged. Bobby stumbled back as they hit him, unable to bring himself to swing the iron poker. (Y/N) raised the shotgun and fired.

            “Bobby!” they cried.

            One of the twins disappeared into smoke as the salt hit her, and the other damn-near hissed at (Y/N). They raised their shotgun again, but a force from behind them threw them forward. They hit the wall, and at the same time, the other twin grabbed for Bobby. Pure fear and guilt was written on Bobby’s face as he saw them—the children he hadn’t saved. Their strength threw him onto the stairs. They leaned over him, grabbing his throat.

            “Come on. Don’t you recognize us,” said the girls.

            “You…” Bobby stared.

            “It’s time to play.”

            (Y/N) grabbed the iron poker, the closest weapon, and swung. Both of the ghosts disappeared, snarling at them. They stared at Bobby, who just stared back.

            “You didn’t save them, did you?” said (Y/N).

            Bobby slowly shook his head.

            “Then the question is were those the types of ghosts the other hunters saw,” said (Y/N). They held out a hand. “Let’s call Dean and Sam.”

            Bobby nodded, still thinking about those poor girls. He handed his phone to (Y/N), and they called Dean on the speed dial.

            “Dean?”

            “(Y/N)?” said Dean. “Where’s Bobby?”

            “He’s fine,” said (Y/N). “But we had a ghost encounter with—”

            “People we didn’t save,” said Dean.

            “You guys did, too?” said (Y/N).

            “In a gas station,” said Dean. “Hang time. Have iron and salt with you. We’ll be back soon to figure this out.”

            “Got it,” said (Y/N). They looked at Bobby. “Dean and Sam were attacked, too. By ghosts of people they didn’t save. They’re okay, and they’ll be here soon.”

            “Good. Good,” said Bobby. He looked at (Y/N). “And…thank you for covering me.”

            (Y/N) nodded. “No problem.” Shock and guilt had trapped Bobby. Undoubtedly, whatever force was causing these ghosts to attack hunters was counting on that. (Y/N) wouldn’t hold it against him.

l

            “So they’re all people we know?” said Sam, pacing. He and Dean had safely arrived, and they regrouped quickly before another ghost could appear.

            “Not just know,” said Dean. “People we couldn’t save.” He nodded to (Y/N). “That’s why (Y/N) didn’t get a ghost. They haven’t hunted and lost someone like that, so they don’t have that guilt.”

            (Y/N) nodded. They mourned their parents, but they weren’t exactly figured they’d had the ability to save to feel guilt about like Dean, Sam, and Bobby. They only had fervent, endless grief.

            “Hey, I saw something on Meg,” said Dean—the ghost he had seen. “Did she have a tattoo when she was alive?”

            “I don’t think so,” said Sam.

            “It was like a-a mark on her hand—almost like a brand,” described Dean.

            “I saw a mark, too, on Henriksen,” realized Sam.

            “What did it look like?” said Bobby.

            “Uh, paper?” said Sam, and (Y/N) handed him a piece from Bobby’s desk. “Thanks.” He held up a picture of a runic brand.

            “That’s it,” said Dean.

            Bobby looked at it. “I may have seen this before.” He nodded, glad to have something to focus on.

            Abruptly, the radio turned on. Static filled the house. (Y/N) grabbed the iron poker again while the Winchesters loaded their shotguns.

            “We’ve got to move,” said Bobby, grabbing a book.

            “Okay,” said Sam. “Where are we going?”

            “Someplace safe, you idjit,” said Bobby, scoffing at the ridiculous question.

            He led them into the hall and to a basement door. Walking downstairs, they found an extension basement, basically an armory and filled with reserve supplies. The iron door at the end of the hall was most important, though. Bobby pulled it open to reveal a room made of iron, marked with devil traps, salt was lined within the walls, protected against all manner of creature.

            Impressed, Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) looked at each other before stepping inside. The room had weapons for every monster (and human), a grate in the design of a Devil’s Trap cast a shadow large enough for the whole room, first aid kits lined a shelf, food lines another, and there was even a desk and a bed.

            Bobby pulled the door closed and cranked the lock securely shut.

            “Bobby, this is…” Sam stared at the walls.

            “Solid iron. Completely coated in salt,” said Bobby. “A hundred percent ghost-proof.”

            Sam smiled slightly. “You built a panic room?”

            Bobby shrugged. “I had a weekend off.”

            “Bobby,” said Dean.

            “What?” said Bobby.

            “You’re awesome,” said Dean, grinning.

            “This is so cool,” said (Y/N), looking at everything.

            Bobby and Dean chuckled. Sam cracked a small smile.

l

            “Bobby, this looks like the mark,” said (Y/N), pouring over books with him.

            They were eager to ignore Dean and Sam having another argument about whether or not an angel had pulled Dean out and whether God existed and that whole mess. (Y/N) had said their piece; they were more interested in working against the ghosts now.

            Bobby looked at their finding. He nodded. “I knew I’d seen it before.”

            “Bobby, you tell him—”

            “I ain’t touchin’ that with a ten-foot pole,” said Bobby before Dean could ask him to say anything to Sam.

            Dean grumbled.

            “We found it,” said Bobby.

            “What?” said Sam, sitting up straighter.

            “The symbol you saw on the ghosts—Mark of the Witness,” said Bobby, tapping the page.

            “Witness?” repeated Sam. “Witness to what?”

            “The Unnatural,” said Bobby. “None of them died what you’d call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts—they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain’t their fault.”

            “So someone made them become ghosts…on purpose,” said (Y/N), and Bobby nodded.

            “Who?” asked Sam.

            “Do I look like I know?” said Bobby sarcastically. “But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls. Whoever did this has big plans.” He gestured to the page. “It’s called the Rising of the Witnesses. It figures into an ancient prophecy.”

            “Wait, wait.” Dean rose from his seat. “What—What book is that prophecy from?”

            “Well, the widely distributed version’s just for tourists, you know,” said Bobby. “But long story short…Revelations.”

            “A biblical prophecy?” said (Y/N). Oh, great, that fits in just perfectly with demons, Lilith, and angels appearing. No way that could mean something bad.

            Dean and Sam stared at Bobby, who nodded at (Y/N)’s words.

            “This is a sign,” said Bobby.

            “A sign of what?” asked the other three.

            Bobby leaned back in his chair. “The Apocalypse.”

            “Apocalypse?” repeated Dean.

            “Oh, god,” said (Y/N).

            “Yep,” said Bobby.

            “As in apocalypse Apocalypse?” said Dean. “The Four Horsemen, Pestilence, $5-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?”

            “That’s the one,” said Bobby. “The Rise of the Witnesses is a mile marker.”

            “Okay, so…” Sam had been quiet, shifting uncomfortably until then, “What do we do now?”

            Dean scoffed. “Road trip. Grand Canyon. Star Trek experience!”

            “Can we do anything about it?” asked (Y/N) instantly.

            “First things first, we need to survive our friends out there,” said Bobby, nodding to the door.

            “Great,” said Dean. “Any ideas aside from staying in this room until Judgement Day?”

            “If a spell brought the Witnesses up…can we send them back with another spell?” asked (Y/N).

            Bobby nodded. “Kid’s sharp. There is a spell to send them back to rest. Should work.”

            “Should?” Sam snorted. “Great.”

            “If I translate it correctly,” said Bobby. “I think I got everything we need here at the house.”

            “Any chance you got everything we need here in this room?” asked Dean.

            Bobby scoffed. “So, you thought our luck was gonna start now all of a sudden?” He stood. “Spell’s gotta be cast over an open fire.”

            “The fireplace in the library,” said Sam.

            “Bingo,” said Bobby, picking out a weapon.

            “That’s just not as appealing as a ghost-proof panic room, you know?” sighed Dean.

            Sam nodded in agreement and exhaled sharply.

            “Okay. But we know what to do,” said (Y/N). “Bobby, if you tell me the spell, I can perform it. I don’t have a ghost going after me. You guys do. I’ll have less of a problem focusing on it.”

            Bobby considered. “Not a bad idea.”

            “So we’re ghost bait, and you do spells,” said Dean. “What could go wrong?”

            “Do you want to try to cast a spell while getting thrown around by a ghost?” challenged (Y/N).

            Dean raised his hands. “Okay, okay.”

            “Here’s what you’ll need to do,” said Bobby, gesturing for them to look at the book. (Y/N) leaned over and paid close attention.

Taglist:

@snowy-violet

@girgal73

@neenieweenie

@yummycement

@pain-in-the-ashe

@w0mank1sser

@taeswolfie

@yappydoo

@demonic-insomniac

@aew-regression-cove

@grippledee-galaxy

@lemmejustreadman

@coffeecloud135

@star-maker-rain-dancer

@introvertathome

@trashcannotbealive

@iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

[couldyouimagine-that]

Angel Bullets

Genre; Action

Word count; 1.8k

Warnings; Canon typical violence (loosely based around S13E22), mentions of death

Pairing; Lucifer (Supernatural) x Reader

Too late for a fix-it fic? In this fandom? Of course not! This idea has been in my head forever – courtesy of Bobby's ingenious weaponry, Reader saves the day. Gabriel doesn’t die, and Lucifer ends up back in the right world. But Lucifer acts almost altruistic and the reader wants to know why. OOC Lucifer per usual, you know the drill. The only canon bit of S13E22 is right at the start. Enjoy!

Masterlist

-          

You had slipped though the tear in reality, the portal in the bunker, after swearing Rowena to secrecy. It would only be for a few moments anyway. Gabriel fought the other world’s Michael fiercely, archangel blade in hand. The Winchesters stood watching a few paces off with their backs to you. Lucifer lay on his side, closer to his brothers than the portal. You thought you could see the glistening of blood around his mouth. Your handgun was ready to fire, but you were a long way away. You couldn’t risk hitting Gabriel. No one had noticed you yet, which was what you were counting on.

In that moment, you saw your chance.

Gabriel staggered back from his brother, clearly hurt, hands almost on his knees for support. And Michael stood still.

Your first shot rang out across the clearing, the angelic steel bullet hitting the archangel square in the chest. All eyes now on you. Michael yelled out in pain but stayed standing, a fury in his eyes which rivalled Lucifer’s. You knew what he was going to do. You sprinted across the clearing as he moved towards Gabriel again, his own archangel blade raised. Dean failed to grab you as you passed him. You fired three more shots in quick succession, each one hitting its mark. But Gabriel wasn’t even trying to get clear.

Michael still wasn’t down and you only had two shots left. The portal was probably already closing. You were sure you heard Lucifer’s voice behind you, warning you back. But Gabriel was almost doubled over and Michael could see his opportunity now. Even if he threw the blade, it would be enough. You were across the clearing now and close enough to have better aim. The next bullet hit Michael’s arm, and he finally lost his grip on the blade. It was as if his fight began to drain with it gone.

Michael faltered, dropped to his knees. You sprinted straight past Gabriel to snatch up the discarded blade. Michael stared at you head on, teeth bared. Do it. But you glanced back in time to see the portal starting to shift. You were going to run out of time. The final bullet hit his shoulder and he fell backwards against a tree from the impact. You bolted for Gabriel, catching him before he too dropped to his knees.

“Come on,” you growled at him, because your arms were shaking and you needed him to help you – you couldn’t carry him alone. A thrill of fear ran through you when you realised how laboured his breathing was. But he forced himself back to his feet and began his slow progress to the portal. You weren’t going to make it.

That was the moment the Winchesters arrived. Dean slung Gabriel’s arm over his shoulders and hoisted him up like he weighed almost nothing. He rushed the two of them across the clearing as Sam grabbed your arm and you followed. From behind you, you heard Michael yell again in frustration. A glance back showed you he was gathering himself – you couldn’t imagine the strength that took. Lucifer was also dragging himself to his feet, but Sam ran straight past him with you in tow. Sam was going to leave him behind.

Right or wrong, you dug your heels in the second you realised. Sam pulled back on your arm on instinct, then redoubled his efforts when he saw you were looking at Lucifer. A string of curses ran through your mind. You didn’t want to be stuck here; in fact, the thought terrified you. But you weren’t leaving Lucifer. And at this rate, Michael would make it to the portal before any of you did. After shouting at Sam to go, you twisted your arm out of his grip. You almost tripped with the downward momentum it gave you, but you managed to stay upright.

You skidded to a halt by Lucifer’s side and hauled his arm over your shoulders as Dean had done with Gabriel. At least they were already through the portal. It took your every ounce of strength to stand with half the weight of Lucifer’s vessel on you. Sam froze, torn in that moment because helping you would mean helping Lucifer. Not helping Lucifer meant you might not make it. In your periphery, Michael was mostly crawling, but trying to stand. Something someone had once said about archangels being fierce and absolute now made so much more sense.

“You gotta help me,” you hissed at Lucifer, who grit his bloodied teeth in response.

“I’m trying.”

You glanced back again and swore. Michael was on his feet, making for the closing portal to the best of his ability. You were almost there.

“Sam, move!” You yelled. He was blocking your only way out. He lightly shook his head, mouth loose in shock.

“You can’t seriously be bringing him back-”

“Michael!” Sam finally looked past yourself and Lucifer long enough to see enemy number one was in a crazed frenzy to reach the portal. “Just go through!”

You could see how badly he didn’t want to. But after a few seconds internal debate, he did what you said. The energy of the portal started to warm your skin almost pleasantly and you were so close… But then there was a high-pitched ringing which escalated to screaming white noise in seconds. Your head swam under the intensity of it.

“Woah, hey. Come on,” Lucifer muttered as you swayed – he still needed your support to walk. But the noise was only getting louder and then your vision dropped out. The ground reared up to meet you and there was damp soil beneath your hands and the smell of leaf litter in your nose. You registered distantly that the portal getting smaller. You began crawling towards it, even though the noise was impossible to think through. The world around you was pitching and spinning. You distantly registered a hand encircling your arm and the ground moving again beneath you. You did your best to help.

A blinding white light shot past you and then you couldn’t see anything at all.

We need to go!

How you heard Lucifer’s voice above everything else, you didn’t know. But it was enough to keep you moving. The noise and the light reached fever pitch and you wondered if you were in the process of passing out, you were so disoriented. But as rapidly as it started, the noise and the light just stopped. There was a hardwood floor beneath you and a weight across your back.

You heard yourself gasp, found you could hardly see in the low light of – the bunker. You’d made it back. You still couldn’t hear anything through the residual ringing in your ears. Lucifer was on the ground next to you and again, you managed to hear his voice in spite of everything else.

It’s okay, I gotcha.

Gentle and comforting were hardly words you could reconcile with Lucifer of all beings, but that was the only way to describe it. He removed his arm from your back and passed a hand over your face. You heard yourself groan out loud afterwards. The ringing and the spotty vision were gone, but you felt like hadn’t slept for a week. You rolled onto your back and scrubbed your hands over your face as you tried to pull yourself together. Naturally, you weren’t given the chance.

“What the hell were you thinking!”

Dean knelt beside you and pulled you up into a vaguely sitting position, presumably to make you see the severity of his words. All that really did was make you feel light-headed. Your head lolled back somewhat concerningly with nothing to support it, since you apparently couldn’t lift it properly on your own.

“Pretty sure I was helping,” you mumbled, mildly surprised you couldn’t clear away your grogginess.

You need some time to recover.

You looked at Lucifer sharply, but none of the others reacted at all – they hadn’t heard him speak. At least you registered that was odd. Dean yelling your name and shaking your shoulders brought you back far too nauseously to the present.

“Dean, stop!” You waved your arms around to get him to let you go. He did, but he was far from happy. You groaned again when he largely dropped you back to the floor, presumably because he thought you’d catch yourself.

“I mean it, what were you thinking? Why did you bring him back here?”

Because I couldn’t bring myself to leave him behind.

“Because he would have just talked his way out of whatever Michael had planned for him and made a deal with him to get both of them here.” As Dean stared you down, you hoped Lucifer realised what you said wasn’t what you meant. Even though, in truth, you knew there was a chance he would sacrifice the entire world just for a ride back to the ashes. “He was there when we made the spell to open the portal, remember? He’d be able to repeat it.”

You didn’t know if that’s what would have happened, but Lucifer had a silver tongue. He would have been able to talk Michael out of killing him. At least you had given Dean something to think about. Sam took over in his brother’s silence to make sure that you were okay, which you were starting to be. Your thoughts were racing though, to work out why Lucifer had healed you. Especially when he was already injured himself. Having decided to ask him later when nobody else was around, you slowly stood up to assess the damage.

Sam and Dean looked largely alright. Gabriel was a wreck, but Cas had materialised from somewhere and was starting on his brother’s wounds. Lucifer looked better by the minute, presumably healing himself. Rowena stared him down, part anger and part fear and very likely to make things more complicated than they already were. Everyone from the apocalypse world you all had saved were chatting and celebrating their newfound safety. It was a risk, but Lucifer had already both saved and healed you, and fiction made it seem like conversations made through some mental connection – or whatever this was – were a two-way street.

Can I talk to you?

You thought it at him with as much effort as you could muster. Hopefully that would mean Gabriel and Cas wouldn’t hear you, but who knew. Maybe they would be too preoccupied to care. Lucifer glanced up at you briefly in what looked like surprise. You supposed he hadn’t thought you would try to talk back to him like this.

This isn’t good enough?

Though his expression didn’t change, his words seemed amused. You tried again.

You know what I mean.

Lucifer caught and held your gaze with a sudden intensity which made it hard to look away. He snapped his fingers before you had time to realise what he was going to do.

[postmortemnivis]

if dean had to die right this instant, he’d die a happy man, seeing last his most prized possession. 

the impala roared to life as he pulled out of the parking lot of the motel he’d been staying at, and he thought that it resembled the roar of the king of the beasts, aggressive and noble. 

sometimes dean thought of himself as a lion, proud, courageous and assertive. he sure felt like one when he was hunting, stalking his preys, circling them before ambushing, never leaving any survivors. never hunting in prides, he preferred to take care of his victim by himself, hardly ever accompanied by more than two other predators, but still leading the hunt. or maybe he’d nuzzle his nose into his prey’s neck and shoulders, leaving soft kisses at the exposed skin before whispering sweet words in their ears, words he rarely ever meant.

that second type of hunt was the one he preferred, the one he needed to take the edge off from the main ones, the ones that left deeper scars and marks on his body than the other.

rolling his window down, he sighed contently as one of his favourite albums started playing on the old stereo, running a hand through his messy hair, not having bothered to cut or properly comb it in weeks.

harvey, another hunter he’d met when he was still a young man, following his father and his orders anywhere on the passenger seat of the impala, had called that morning and informed him of a series of supernatural looking disappearances down a highway california, and dean was set on finding out what was causing it.

the ride, albeit filled with old rock playing in the background, was surprisingly silent. in the past years dean had grown close again to his brother, and he’d gotten used to sam reading some lore out loud, discussing their theories on what they could be about to face, but the passenger seat was now empty. 

if dean was anything, it was a family man. he’d lost the count of the times he’d put sam’s life before his own without even thinking about it. it had become automatic, he had been doing it ever since sam was born and he had never learned to live without doing it.

without sam and bobby, dean felt incredibly alone, helpless.

he missed pretending to detest bobby’s cooking, sam’s terrible singing during long rides and stupidly healthy diet, the sharp tone bobby would use when picking up the phone or watching the game with them in bobby’s living room with a cold beer in his hand, feet propped up on the coffee table that was covered in old lore books, empty beer cans and bullet shells scattered everywhere around the house.

losing bobby was worse than losing his own father, even if he hated himself for even thinking that.

he could try and lie to himself, telling himself he was better off alone, acting like he preferred to lead a solitary life, a lone wolf. he could lie all he wanted, but the lonely nights weighted on his weary soul like the whole world on atlas’ shoulders. 

deep down, he craved it, to love and feel loved. he could blame his mother for dying, or his father for preferring his brother their whole lives, when dean, ever the obliging soldier, hanged from each of his father’s words, while all sam did was challenge him.

ironically, it was as god preferred lucifer to michael, the rebel son to the devoted one. dean and sam really would’ve been the perfect vessels to fight each other, the true match the biblical brothers could’ve used to battle the other for one last time, if the winchesters hadn’t found their way out of that.

kansas was playing, and like every time, dean couldn’t help but think of his old house, his first and only one. the memories were blurry, singed by the same fire that had torn his family apart many years before. he remembered how he could smell the cherry pie baking in the oven while he was playing in the backyard with his father, his brother’s soft fusses as his mother would coo at him and sing to him to calm him down. he could almost see it in the darkness of the open road, he could almost touch his mother’s nightgown, but all his memories really were just like dust in the wind.

without even noticing, dean had been driving for hours, crossing state lines and he struggled to recognise in the dark the california highway he was on. 

dean grabbed his phone from the passenger seat and dialed harvey's number before bringing the phone to his ear.

“this is harvey, currently i’m not available. leave a message and i’ll call you as soon as i can.” the recorded voice told dean, who groaned, tightening his grip on the wheel.

“harvey, man, it’s dean. listen, I’m in the middle of the desert, just off I-40. where was that place you told me about?”

all he could think about was crashing on a motel bed after chugging down half a bottle of scotch.

the motel led insignia looked almost like a mirage, and dean pulled inside the empty parking lot, the only other car there looked like it must’ve been parked there for at least ten years, judging from its conditions.

dean wearily got out of the car and grabbed his old duffle bag from the trunk before locking it and heading for the reception.

as he walked inside, he caught a whiff of old lady’s perfume, cigarettes and air freshener.

an old man, probably in his late sixties, sat behind the wooden desk, smoking as he flipped through the pages of a newspaper. the few hairs he had left were oily and the plaid shirt he was wearing was stained too.

“evening.” the man grinned up at dean, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. “welcome to the sunset dunes inn.”

“thanks.” dean muttered, dropping his bag at his feet. “a single. just for tonight.”

“that’ll be 95, son, unless you want a deluxe. it’s bigger and it has a beautiful desert view, the sunsets are to die fo-”

“i’ll take the basic one.” dean replied, grabbing his wallet and pulling out four twenty dollar bills.

the man looked at dean through his brows before he inhaled more smoke, placing in front of the hunter the guests register. “alright, i’ll need a signature here then.”

the hunter signed as steve gaines before reaching for his bag again.

“marge!” the man called, and a woman not younger than fifty five popped her head out of the back door. she was taller than the man dean thought to be her husband, but she shared his same slimy look. “key to room six.” 

as marge, with a nod, went to fetch the key, the man looked back at dean.

“care to take a brochure?”

“i’m not staying for long.” dean replied, shaking his head.

the man furrowed his brows. “i understand. take one anyway, see for yourself our town.”

“is there a diner around here?” he finally gave in and grabbed the dusty brochure the man was handing him.

“just two miles to the left into town, hard to miss, it’s the only one.” marge suddenly chirped up, back with dean’s keys as she passed it to him.

“thanks…” He muttered before walking back outside, walking down to room six.

he looked again around the empty parking lot, studying the hot night as he tried to come up with an explanation as to why they’d placed him in room six instead of one, it surely wasn’t because they were busy.

he glanced down at the brochure, which seemed as old as the owners of the motel.

aurelia, it read, apparently located between the nevada border and palm springs, in the middle of the mojave desert. 

founded in 1852 during the gold rush era, was born as a mining town, now a hidden oasis not many know. surrounded by red rock canyons, it is also known as the golden mirage, jewel of the desert, the town where the old west meets the 20th century…

“how freakin’ old is this thing…” dean muttered to himself.

as he looked at the passing doors for his, the flickering lights on the porch finally seemed to work, and dean caught a glimpse of a figure standing on a doorway.

“welcome to the sunset dunes inn.”

he turned and was met with your face.

he’d met many angels in the past few years, maybe too much for his liking and surely more than the average person, and could say that you were just as gracious as the angels he’d encountered. your face, the way your eyes shined in the dark and your lips wrapped around the cigarette you had just lit. this was his hell and heaven at the same time, the few feet of distance between the two of you was the only enemy he had in his mind.

“thanks.” he swallowed the lump in his throat. he was never nervous around women, stand alone pretty ones, but something about you felt completely different from any other woman dean had ever seen in his whole life. 

“you’ll like it here,” you hummed, “it’s a really lovely town.”

“i’m not staying.” he found himself saying for a second time that night, only this time regretting it.

you raised both your eyebrows. “oh? just passing through?”

“you don’t get many tourists, do you?” dean pointed out, looking down at you.

“we’re in an isolated area,” you explained, careful to exhale the smoke away from his face, “we get occasional travellers like you, we don’t get that many new faces.”

you silently handed your cigarette to him and he inhaled a few drags before returning it to you. surprised by his own action, dean furrowed his brows. he wasn’t a smoker, had never been one to fall into deadly vices, apart from hunting and alcohol. he felt like he would’ve done anything that you asked him to do, even throw himself down a cliff, if there had been any around.  

the soft breeze whispered in his ears, messing up his hair as he couldn’t find it in himself to stop looking at you. it sounded almost like an old song, a secretive whisper. the swish and whoosh could almost resemble words, voices carried from afar.

“you live here or something?”

you chuckled. “yes, my parents are the owners.”

“oh.”

how did slimy and grandma manage to pop out one like this? dean thought to himself. 

“i just come here to visit, though. i moved to LA a few years ago.” you explained with a chuckle. “there wasn’t really much to do here after high school.”

before dean could answer, you pointed behind him. “that yours?”

dean nodded at the impala.

“sweet ride. it’s the nice kind of old, y’know?” you finished your cigarette, stomping it on the ground, and dean blinked, hanging from your every word.

“was my old man’s.”

“mine’s that one.” you pointed at car on the other side of the lot, beside the rusty one he’d first seen, and he could’ve sworn it wasn't there when he’d parked his.

“which room?” you hummed.

“six.”

“next door, neighbor.” you smiled, and dean glanced at the number on the door next to yours. Indeed six, big and brassed.

“so…” he was dying to keep the conversation going, “how’s the big life in los angeles treating you? You one of those brainless valley girls yet?”

you chuckled, rolling your eyes at him. “i’m still a small town girl, i don’t think i’ll ever get used to living in a big city.”

“i’m sure it can be fun,” he retorted, “you can meet more people than here.”

“that’s for sure. but i miss my friends from aurelia, you know? that’s why I visit as much as i do. the people are so different there…”

dean held back a yawn. he’d been on the road for the whole day, and could barely feel his legs any more. “do you have anything to drink? strong, possibly?”

you shook your head. “sorry, pop hasn’t kept alcohol around here since he married my mother in ‘69. he’s gone all catholic, won’t even eat meat on fridays and during lent.”

“must’ve been hell not having a liquor cabinet to steal from in high school.” dean chuckled, admiring the way your hair ever so gracefully framed your face. straight outta renaissance painting, he decided, just like a dream.

“if you want, i have some sodas.”

he shook his head, cursing himself for being so human, so tired. “i think i’ll go to sleep, thanks.”

“sure, goodnight.”

“night.” he replied before unlocking his door and getting in.

dean dropped his duffle at the end of the bed and kicked his boots off before cracking open the window looking around the room, cleaner than the motel accommodations he was used to.

with a tired groan, he lay down on the bed, not bothering to pull back the duvet.

he started brainstorming ideas, he still needed to be sharp for the case. what could be snatching people off the highway? a woman in white, perhaps a ghost, or even a crocotta… he’d ask you if there were any local legends in the area the following morning, even if he wanted to just knock on your door and spend the night with you.

as he tried to sleep, the wind would softly blow in the room, dancing with the curtains, whispering in his ears. he couldn’t tell if the long drive was getting the best of him and he was starting to hear voices, hallucinating, or if someone was actually talking outside, but he was too tired to care.

dean was used to nightmares, he’d wake up sweaty in the middle of the night at least three times a week, usually recurring nightmares from his time in hell, but wet dreams… that was new even for him. although he consumed more porn than the average person should, he’d rarely ever dreamt of women–the weight of his job heavy even on his psyche–and surely enough never women he’d just met, but you’d found your way into his mind, his dreams.

it all felt so real and lucid, dean couldn’t tell if it was really you undressing in front of him, but he couldn’t get out of it, not that he was complaining anyway, the way your soft curves looked in the feeble light from his bedside lamp made him crazy.

his forehead and palms were sweaty as he tried to reach for you.

“tut-tut…” you murmured as you slipped out of your jeans, “i want something first.”

dean pathetically nodded. “a-anything.”

“look up.”

as he was following your instructions, the first pale rays of the sunrise made him scrunch his eyes before they fluttered open.

he blinked a few times, his eyes met the mirror on the ceiling. he asked himself if it was some subliminal message his subconscious was sending him, maybe that he needed to get laid? he’d taken a girl back to his motel room just two nights before, it wasn’t that, it was something different. different, like you from any girl he’d ever set eyes on in his lifetime. he needed to have you in a consuming way, one that made him ache for you even though you were just next door.

next door.

he quickly sat up and tied his combat boots back on, immediately springing up and heading towards the door.

the early morning air was bitter, too cold, and dean had to admit to himself that the sunrise might’ve just been as beautiful as the sunset he’d experienced while on the road the previous evening, the cool purples and blues making it feel almost unreal.

he took a deep breath, nothing but fresh air and- cigarettes again.

“you’re up early.” you noticed.

he turned to face you, just as breathless as the night before.

“could say the same about you.”

“i have a reason, helping my parents with cleaning. what’s your excuse?” you hummed, inhaling smoke like you were immune to cancer.

“couldn’t sleep.” he admitted, almost shy to look at you, as if he had desecrated your body by dreaming about it. if he looked close enough he could catch glimpses of what was underneath the almost see through camise you apparently wore to sleep. 

“so… you getting ready to leave?”

dean never hated hunting more than he did right that moment. “looks like it. i should get going…”

“oh… have breakfast with me, at least? before i won’t ever see you again?” you mused.

just as dean was about to get into your room with a lazy grin, his phone buzzed to life, and he noticed that the mirrors in your room were all covered by sheets.

it was harvey, peskily sending him message after message.

> you’re close

> got word that people are disappearing from this little town called aurelia, at least four people never checked out of this sunset inn motel or something. 

> also checked in with rudy moser from FL, thinks it could be a siren lurking people in.

> me n rudy are a call away if you need backup, man.

dean stopped dead in his tracks.

“what?”

“gotta grab something first.” he muttered, quickly making his way to the Impala and opening the trunk. he rummaged through various weapons before finding the bronze dagger he was looking for. watching your motel door over the edge of the open trunk, where you were standing, he hissed and bit onto his bottom lip as he used the blade to cut through the skin of his palm.

if you were as dangerous as you were beautiful, dean didn’t want to risk it. he knew that he was already under your spell.

dean hid the dagger in the waistband of his jeans before shutting the truck close and walking back to you, putting a smile on his face.

“everything alright?” you asked.

if you were what dean thought you were, he had to be careful about what he thought about you. “yeah, just checking something.”

his lie tasted bitterly on his tongue, and you could almost sense it.

you opened the door wider to let him in, before dean abruptly shut it behind himself, looking at you with hooded eyes. he locked the door and took a step towards you.

“what are you?”

“i’m me-”

“bo, you’re not human, you’re a monster.” dean growled, grabbing his dagger.

“i- no-”

“cut the crap.” he barked, and he almost grew in size too, standing so tall a flash of fear shot in your eyes.

“what do you want me to say, then? that i’m just what you hunt? probably the whole reason why you’re here in california, dean? oh, yes, i know who you are. who doesn’t these days?”

“are you going to put up a fight or go down quietly?” he snarled, taking another step closer to you, holding his dagger tighter as you backed away. “is it you?”

“i don’t-”

“you just confessed, it’s useless to lie now!” he pushed you to your bed.

“do you want me to admit it? i know you’re looking for those missing people- why do you think you’re in room six? their rotting bodies are all in the other rooms, piling up!”

those were probably the voices that dean had been hearing, now finally understanding their whispers as an advice to run for his life. “god, baby…” he almost dropped his weapon. “breaking my freakin’ heart and we haven’t even slept together.”

“but i can’t stop, i’ve been doing so good in LA, nobody cares if a couple of people a month go missing, that’s normal there… i can’t stop, dean, can’t change who i am.” you whined so pathetically dean could almost believe you. “oh, dean, you have to believe me…”

“you’re a siren.” he finally muttered. “so pretty and you can’t even stand to look at yourself in a mirror…”

“dean…” you breathed as he lifted the dagger to your neck, starting to press the blade into your soft skin. 

“i really wish there was another way…” dean breathed on your skin, he could smell how good your hair smelled, how beautiful you looked now that he was so close to you.

you weren’t violent, dean had understood that much, and you closed your eyes, accepting your cursed fate.

“no survivors behind…” he hissed to himself, still holding the bloody bronze dagger by your neck, before getting off of you and cleaning his blood off the blade on his jeans.

“wha- no!” you protested, stumbling to get up. “you’re supposed to kill me! i can’t- i can’t live like this anymore, with who i am!” 

“sorry, sweetheart, guess you’ll have to learn how to.” the hunter mumbled, rubbing his eyes, tired. 

“no, kill me!” you commanded, and the poison that was now flowing through his veins almost made him obey your order.

“no…” dean grunted, taking another step closer to the door, trying to put as much distance between you two as he could. “how do i get rid of… your spell, or whatever it is that you freaks do to your victims.”

you winced a little as he called you a freak.

“i don’t have all day.” he barked, and you, almost shyly, approached him.

as you raised your hands in surrender, dean let you get close to him, and tried not to react as your lips brushed against his. all he wanted was to pull you back into him and kiss you senseless.

“you’re free.”

“how’d i know you’re not lyin’?” he questioned, wary as you took a step back.

“you haven’t killed me when you had the chance, some part of you trusts me, dean.”

dean sighed. “only shame is that this pretty face isn’t real…” he reached up to brush his knuckles on your cheekbone.

“you won’t kill my parents either?” you chirped up.

he raised his brows. “they’re-?”

“i help them clean out the place from their occasional victims, guess they went too far out this time…”

“it was them?” slimy and grandma weren’t as harmless as they looked.

you nodded, looking away. “as i said, i help them with cleaning.”

he sighed. “christ…”

“dean-” you tried saying, taking one careful, measured step closer to him, but he reluctantly stopped you.

“go back to los angeles.” he growled.

“can’t…” you ran a hand through your hair, almost nervous.

dean really didn’t understand, you could’ve killed him at any moment, he’d been under your spell this whole time, you could've told him to kill himself and he would’ve done it without even considering saying no to you, maybe even saying thank you.

“what do you mean, you can’t?”

you sighed. “ny parents… they're too old to do what they do, they need me.”

“screw ‘em and leave.” dean said, matter of factly.

“you clearly did not grow up with strict parents.” you snorted, and you didn’t know just how much dean understood you. “i wish it was that easy…”

“so, you can't leave?”

“you go. please, they’ll come for you too, check yourself out while you can, before it’s too late.”

he paused, sighing. he rubbed his temples.

you looked at him, expectantly.

“useless to make eyes at me now, sweetheart…” he groaned with a grimace, “kinda ruins the mood when I know that you’re a hairless, ugly, gaunt thing. hope you don’t take it personally-”

you rolled your eyes at him. “knew you’d love this skin, though.”

“oh, i loved it all right, until fifteen minutes ago.”

“you know I can read your mind, right?”

“good for you, then you know how hard it is for me right now not to stab you in the eyeball.” he muttered.

“meaning i can see your deepest desire, needs and… well, that dream last night? one hell of  a show.” you smirked.

“glad you liked your own strip tease.” he grinned back at you.

you kissed his lips again, softly. “goodbye, dean.”

he paused, considering whether it’d be a good idea to do all the things he’d been dreaming about since the first moment he’d seen you, but then he took a step back. “bye sweetheart, i better not see you ever again. don’t get into any trouble, other hunters won’t be as stupid as i’m bein’ now…” 

you nodded with a gentle, grateful smile. “won’t.”

dean turned his back to you and walked back to his car before he could say, do anything else.

he sat in the car for a moment before dialing harvey’s number. 

“oh, for god’s sake, what if i was dying, man…” dean groaned as his call was sent straight to voicemail again. “harvey, it’s dean. checked that sunset dunes motel, it’s not there. m’heading to the next town, maybe the siren’s on the road too. check in with you tonight.” 

the impala’s engine roared to life, a deep, guttural sound like a lion letting out a warning growl, its power vibrating through the metal frame. it was the same hunger that’d driven dean for years—chasing, seeking, always so close—only then, it was no longer directed at the creature he’d let slip away. Instead, it was a growl of frustration, a raw reminder of the beast inside him that’d been tamed, held back, and left to howl in the silence of the desert night.

the open road was the one view dean winchester would’ve never gotten tired of, him and his car against the world, hunting things and saving people. sometimes he’d take a moment and think of all the people he’d saved in his life, but never a monster.

he knew he was being unfair, he remembered how hard it had been when he heard the shot that loudly announced madison’s death, and as he drove away from the sunset dunes inn motel, he thought that maybe he wasn’t really clean of your poison, some of it still in his system, making it impossible for him to kill you, maybe there wasn't even a cure and you'd just pretended to cleanse him from you. everything he believed in, killing monsters no matter how harmless they looked, crumbling down at the sight of your soft smile. 

he quickly decided that sam was never supposed to know of what happened, and nodded to himself as the eagles started playing from the stereo. even if sam was to find out, it was none of his business what dean decided to do with his life when they weren’t together, it was sam who wanted time apart anyway.

the wind kicked up dust behind him as he drove away. the impala hummed along the long stretch of highway, empty for miles in either direction. 

his grip on the wheel was tight, knuckles white, but his mind—his heart—felt a thousand miles away from the road he was on.

but he’d let you go. 

the words still tasted bitter on his tongue, like swallowing dirt, but they were true. he'd let you slip away, yet your presence was still lingering in the dust and heat.

dean could have done his job, should’ve. he should’ve turned the car around, gone back to the motel, made the call. told harvey everything, killed you. but there was something in his chest—a tugging, aching part of him—that made him hesitate.

the desert stretched out before him, silent and endless. there was nothing for miles but the occasional cactus, the mountains rising up like ghosts in the distance. he suddenly felt so small against it all, like a speck of dust on a windblown road.

but he was still driving. heading west. heading away from everything, from you. he’d spend a few days a few towns away before declaring the siren, you, gone forever, lost.

maybe it was the heat that made his throat dry, or maybe it was the weight of what he’d just done, the lie he was about to tell. the decision sat heavy on his heart, but he had set his mind, no going back now.

dean didn’t know if he’d ever see you again, he didn’t know if he wanted. hell, he didn’t know if he’d ever forgive himself for what he’d done.

but the road was long. and he was still out here, somewhere in the middle of it.

i was so torn between the siren or maybe a ghost/vengeful spirit… ugh, im still not entirely convinced maybe ill even rewrite the whole thing

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 3

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 1960

Warnings: Angst, Past Trauma, Alcohol.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers. Not sure when this one will be up and available to read yet. Just getting the chapter list started for it.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 3

The next few weeks were odd, but at least things had gotten into a rhythm at the garage. With Dean there, the other four stopped treating you like they would have if he weren’t there. It was something you wanted to ask him about but had refused to ask questions that were too personal in your mind. 

John came around, a lot, and it made you slightly nervous that first week. His presence was unsettling, and if it hadn’t been for Jodi, you probably never would have relaxed around the man. She just had a way with people, and you loved watching how she interacted with them. 

Sadly, Sam had only stayed for a few days before he went back to California for school and to his soulmate. Dean told you about her. She seemed like a nice girl, and for some reason, you were intrigued, wanting to meet her one day, but you weren’t entirely sure why.

When the third week started, Bobby assigned you and Dean a project. One of the locals had gotten into an accident, and the car was all but totaled—barely. The owner was sentimental and wanted it restored, so you knew you’d be busy for a few weeks with this one, until you learned Dean would be your other hand on the job.

“Looks like we’re working together, Sweetheart,” Dean smirked, joining you as you made mental notes on the list of things you’d need to order.

“I don’t mind,” you answered nonchalantly, more focused on your mental list than him.

You finally grabbed the pad for the parts list and started jotting down the obvious items before opening all the doors and the hood. Dean just watched you, intrigued by your process and smitten by the tender attention you gave the car. He wanted to help, but he also didn’t want to get in your way either.

When you slid under the car, he crouched down so he could continue watching you. Your hair was pulled back in a braid to keep it out of your face, even if there were a few loose strands that he noticed. The way your expression gave away how the wheels turned in your mind, and your fingers seemed to dance along the parts, silently mouthing words before you’d grab your pad and write something down.

After sliding out from under the car, you looked over at Dean, who was still watching you, “Could you give this list to Bobby, please?”

“Sure,” he replied with a smile, taking the pad from you.

Since you and Dean were working together, you took your breaks together. You found it odd that Dean didn’t take his breaks with the boys, though. When you asked him about it, he said he wanted to get to know you better. So, the two of you talked, about all sorts of things. 

By day three, the two of you were joking around while you worked on the car. You didn’t want to admit it, but it felt nice to have someone to talk to, joke around with, and hang out with. Then, there was everything that the two of you had in common. That surprised the hell out of you.

You never thought of Dean as anything other than a co-worker and eventual friend. The man was attractive, but it was all his other qualities that made you know he’d make his soulmate happy when he found her. He was kind, sweet, funny, and he even acted like a kid sometimes. The way he smiled in so many different ways, revealing what he felt when paired with the look in his eyes, was beautiful beyond words.

The days passed quickly, with the two of you tackling the car together, and the conversation between the two of you made it seem as though you’d barely begun work by the time the shift was over. You were finally able to relax around him and be yourself, which you hadn’t gotten to do around anyone who wasn’t family.

When the two of you finished the job, you stood before it, beaming with pride, looking down at the car. Dean, though, had his eyes on you. Benny’s whistle pulled your attention as he walked over. Dean quickly looked away from you and at Benny.

“Looks good. You two team up nice,” he stated while admiring the car.

“Thanks,” you replied a little shyly. 

It was the first compliment Benny had ever given you, and you weren’t entirely sure how to take it. 

“Thanks, Benny. Couldn’t have done it without her,” Dean replied proudly, giving you a gentle pat on your shoulder. “She’s skilled when it comes to cars. Might even let her help me with Baby one day.”

Your head snapped up, and you looked at Dean, shocked but also confused. You knew he never let anyone touch his car, just like you with yours. They were both your pride and joy, and neither of you trusted anyone else to give the love deserved to work on them. You also weren’t sure how to respond.

“So, we celebratin’, since she’s finished?” Benny asked, his hands on his hips, still looking at the car.

“Drinks at Harvelle’s tonight, say around seven?” Dean answered with that smirk of his.

“I’ll tell the guys,” he replied, now sporting a smirk of his own before he walked away.

That was when Dean looked down at you, “Do you want to come too? It’s something the five of us used to do when I worked here before. I’m buyin’.”

You sighed silently and looked away from him, “I’m pretty sure they’d enjoy it more if I wasn’t there, but thanks for inviting me.”

Dean set his hands on your shoulders and gently turned you so that you were facing him. “You did more than half the work. You deserve to celebrate, too. The guys might surprise you, but…” he trailed off and sighed, then let his hands fall to his sides. “If you don’t want to go, I understand.”

Looking up at him, he looked so dejected, and you felt bad for declining his offer. “Tell you what. I’ll go, but if things get weird, I’m gonna head out.”

He instantly smiled like a happy kid, which made you chuckle a little, “Then I’ll see you tonight, Sweetheart.”

“See you tonight, Dean,” you chuckled, finding him fairly adorable.

You headed to Bobby’s office, but stopped just outside the door, hearing not only Bobby but also John and Jodie. You hadn’t noticed either of them come into the garage earlier, as your entire focus had been on finishing the car.

“We’ve only got three months left. Have you found anything out on your end, John?” Jodi asked, frustrated.

“Sam’s been trying. We know it wasn’t an accident. So far, there’s no way to fight the contract. The lawyers that drew it up were good with wording the fine print,” John replied with a heavy sigh.

“I’m not letting that monster have her, John. I’ll shoot him if he shows up,” Bobby growled.

“We still can’t find the original document. That would nullify the one that monster has,” Jodi added.

“Sam’s trying. We don’t know where Y/P/L/N’s hid it. There are only a handful of people that this has happened to. At least she and Dean are friends, so there’s some hope,” John sighed.

Your heart felt like it not only stopped but was also going to pound right out of your chest. For a moment, you were frozen in place but quickly composed yourself and put on that fake smile again. With a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Car’s done,” you told them loud enough so they could hear through the closed door.

“Come in, kid,” Bobby told you.

The air in the room seemed thick with tension, but they all had those faked smiles on, and you knew it was for you. Jodi was standing next to Bobby, who was behind his desk. John in the chair across from it. “Here’s the keys. The owner should be pleased with the work,” you smiled, setting the keys on Bobby’s desk.

“Thanks, kid. Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off, relax a little? You’ve been workin’ hard the last two and a half weeks,” Bobby told you, but you saw the concern of something in his eyes.

“Sounds good. Nice to see you, Jodi, John,” you replied, still giving that fake smile as you headed out of the office, closing the door behind you.

That smile instantly faded, though, as your chest tightened and your thoughts ran rampant. Swallowing hard, you couldn’t manage a deep breath and headed toward your car. Dean watched you, frowning, but he didn’t follow you. Instead, he went to the office without knocking just as you reached your car.

I’m the only she Dean has been hanging out with, and we are friends. What legal stuff is connected to the two of us and not just to Dean? Why did they go silent when I went into the office? What the hell aren’t they telling me? The only other thing happening in three months is my birthday.

Is something going to happen to me on my birthday? Who would Bobby have been calling a monster? What does that have to do with me? And to top it off, what the hell does this have to do with my parents?

There were far too many questions, and no one you could even ask for answers. They circled through your mind like a tornado while you drove, while you showered, and even when you attempted to relax. Near five, after spacing off and on for the last three hours, you went to your room, sat on your bed, and picked up the picture frame that held a picture of your parents. Your mother was holding you, with your father standing behind her. Both of them looked happy. The one-year-old child in their arms was sporting a happy smile as well. 

I wish I could have gotten to know the two of you.

You sighed and flipped the frame over, unclipped the backing, and pulled out the almost twenty-five-year-old piece of paper you’d hidden there, years ago. It was a letter your mother had written to you a couple of days before you were born. You’d found it shortly after your sixteenth birthday when you were going through things in the house. It had been hidden well.

Y/N, You’ll be here soon, and you won’t understand this until you are much older. Just know we both love you more than words will ever say. This home is yours. We would have loved to raise you, but we know that we won’t live to see your third birthday. Let this home be your sanctuary away from the world. It has many hidden things that you’ll find over time. Think of it like a scavenger hunt. Each thing you find will help you heal from what is going to happen to us. The more of these things you find, the more things will make sense. I can’t put too much here, in case this is found by someone else. We love you, and we’ll be watching you from heaven. Trust your family. They’ll be there when you need them. Love, Your Parents

You’d read the letter numerous times and searched the house more times than you could count. But after hearing the three in the office today, you had a new determination growing inside. It was like a tiny ember that was quickly growing into a raging fire.

Time to search this place again. Only this time, I need answers to keep myself safe.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 4

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[calthepal]

What's so special about Destiel (to me at least), is how Dean is a man who does not feel worthy of savior, not worthy of love. He is a man that believes that he is not important and he holds so much self-hatred that he puts his whole being into helping others and that is still not enough to make him feel worthy.

So when he is saved by Castiel he is so convinced that he has ulterior motives and he stabs him.

Cas does not react and just looks at him, and sees him as Him. He sees how convinced he is that he is not a good person and says; "You don't think you deserve to be saved?"

Cas sees Dean for who he is. Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester.

Dean is connected to Cas by his sacrifices made to pull him from hell and Cas shows to him that he is worthy of love and happiness and Dean is able to finally see past his own hard exterior.

Dean learns how to love again from Cas without either knowing it, and that changes Cas too.

Cas sees how caring Dean is for Sam, Bobby, Ben, Lisa etc and it moves him, and it is Dean's selflessness that moves Cas to change, and he learns to love from Dean. They learnt how to love others and themselves in a way they hadn't before from each other. Cas acknowledges this in his goodbye speech in 15x18;

"Knowing you has changed me."

Their love for eachother is what set them apart from the other universes. They are in the ONLY universe where Castiel went against his orders, deviated from the script. Because of DEAN.

Ultimately, Supernatural is a show about Family and Love and perseverance (friendship is magic type shit) and having their relationship being considered only platonic feels too simple. Their relationship feels so much more than that, and I don't care if it is read as romantic or not but they changed each other for the better of literally the entire universe.

They make me so ill.

[holdinggrudges]

the chain — time after time

start from the beginning

content: supernatural rewrite; canon-typical violence. rated MA

word count: 25k

summary: Following Jessica's death, the three of you head out to Blackwater Ridge, chasing John with the coordinates he had left for Dean in Jericho. Sam's grief comes in flashes of anger and belligerence, his sleep plagued by nightmares. Your sleep is plagued by strange dreams of your own.

notes: @cafekitsune for dividers !! the note on ao3 is extremely long and i am not going to copy paste the entire thing here, but the important thing is that the preview here does NOT encompass the entire first section on ao3, only about half of it. ALSO, i made an edit to the first chapter that is very much plot relevant that i thought i had added in when i first wrote it, but apparently not. so if you read the chapter the day i posted it and maybe up to a week afterwards, or if you read the preview here and skipped it on ao3, you probably missed it. it's been a while since it was posted, so if you want to reread it, i'd encourage it, BUT if you just want to get into this chapter ASAP, here's the section with the line that was added in bold: You’re almost surprised when you wake, head pounding and body aching. You thought for sure you’d died when you hit the wall, but instead, you open your eyes to the metallic smell of blood. Your hand comes up to your neck, and you feel the puckered skin of a scar spanning the width of your throat—a scar you didn't have when you went to bed.

Read chapter two, time after time, on AO3!

PREVIEW

“If you fall, I will catch you, I’ll be waiting time after time.” — Time After Time, Cyndi Lauper

Dallas, Texas—2002

You’re 19 years old and fresh off a grueling werewolf hunt in Shreveport when you stumble into a grimy, 24 hour diner on the outskirts of Dallas, just barely stashed in the city limits outside Mesquite. The hunt in Louisiana was long and dead boring; half the two weeks you spent there was just staking out the pack, making sure you wouldn’t miss any when the time came. But in case of the off chance you did, you got the hell out of Dodge before the last body even hit the floor. 

Of course, that means you’re hungry, and tired, and probably a little gross, too, by the time you roll into a dimly lit parking lot at nearly one in the morning. You check yourself in the visor mirror to confirm you’re not visibly covered in blood or any other sort of incriminating grime before climbing out of your car and locking it behind you. 

It’s late, so the diner is relatively empty when you walk in. There’s a few stragglers at the tables—most likely people like you, looking for a place to stop while they’re passing through. Or they’re high. Actually, that one’s probably more likely. 

The older woman at the counter is the only one who looks up when the bell above the door signals your entrance, and she offers you a warm smile. “Welcome in, sugar. Take a seat wherever you like; I’ll have someone come take your order in a minute.” Her voice is warm and southern and nostalgic and your heart pangs with it, just a twinge of grief.  

You shoot her a tired smile of your own before plopping down at the closest booth and pillowing your head on your arms. You’re going to have to stop somewhere tonight and sleep that hunt off, but you think you could make it a couple more hours, maybe pop by Waco on your way to Austin. Bobby had sent you a tip about some cattle mutilations down that way, mostly just because he knew Ellen had sent you down to Shreveport. Still, you don’t exactly have anything better to do than check it out. 

“Darrell, I got it—I swear to God, Darrell, I called dibs. Take your break or something, damn.” There’s a scuffle somewhere off to your right. You lift your head mostly just to make sure no one is pulling a gun, but you’re frozen in your tracks by the sight of the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen in your life. She looks to be around your age, maybe a year or two older, with curly hair tied up in a bun on the top of her head. The apron tied around her waist tells you that she works here, and the indignant teenager she’s arguing with tells you she’s the one causing the scuffle you’d heard. “Go. Go! I’m serious, go.” You don’t want to get your hopes up, but it doesn’t seem like she’s just angling for a good tip. 

Your eyes follow her as she makes her way over to your table, and you hope your staring is at least a little subtle, though you’re too tired to do much about it either way. 

“Howdy, stranger,” she greets, one hand on her hip. “Haven’t seen you around here before.” 

You glance around at the tired patrons, maybe three in total aside from you. “You remember everyone who comes in?” you ask her. 

She shrugs. “Most everyone who comes in are regulars, yeah. Besides, I’d have remembered you.” Oh, so it’s like that, huh? “I’m Lydia. I can take your order, if you’re ready.” 

You don’t have to introduce yourself. Normally, you wouldn’t. “____. Just a coffee, thanks.” You’re pretty sure she’s flirting with you. But maybe you’re so tired you’re hallucinating. It’s hard to tell. 

Lydia’s brows raise. “You know it’s one in the morning, stranger?” She knows your name, but she still uses the one she gave you. Point one for flirting. “You sure I can’t get you an omelet or something?” 

You shake your head. “No, I’ve, uh—I’ve got some more driving to do tonight. Just popped by for a pick me up. And a break.” It’s not a lie. The monotony of I-20 and your exhaustion had really not mixed well. You’d been fighting to keep your eyes open for 30 minutes by the time you stopped. 

“I see,” she says, tapping her pen against her notepad. “So…you’re just passing through, then?” You don’t think you’re imagining the disappointment in her voice. Point one and a half for flirting. 

“Yeah. Just passing through on my way to Austin.” 

She nods, her lips pursing in a rueful little twist. “Pity. I’d have loved to get to know you.” Okay, you may be sleep deprived and delusional but there’s no way you’re reading that one wrong. “I’ll get you that coffee, then.” 

True to her word, she disappears into the kitchen. You flick your phone open to read over the text Bobby had sent you a couple days ago. ‘Cattle mutilations near Austin. Maybe check it out while you’re down south. Be safe.’ Normally, you’d let him know you were on your way there. Your eyes flick to the kitchen door. 

‘Left Shreveport a couple hours ago, stopped in Dallas. Thx, you be safe too’ 

‘I’m not the one hunting wolves, kid. Let me know when you touch down.’

The soft clunk of a mug on the table draws your attention to Lydia, setting down a cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes in front of you. You eye them, and, despite your confusion, a smile starts to make its way onto your face. “I didn’t order those,” you tell her. 

She grins. “Oh, come on. You think you’re gonna leave a Texas diner without getting fed?” She crosses her arms over her chest, her hip cocked, and she looks so much like a scolding mother that you have to laugh. “It’s on the house. Eat ‘em, you look like you haven’t had a good meal in days.” 

You shake your head, amused, but it’s not like she’s wrong. It’s easy to get hyper focused on the hunt, forget to eat or sleep; at least when you were riding with the Winchesters, you had someone there to remind you. Still, you’re better off alone than you were with John, and you remind yourself of that everytime you linger on Dean’s contact. “Thanks.” 

Lydia turns to leave, but hesitates at the last second. “You know, my, uh…my shift ends in about ten minutes. If you wanted some company.” She extends the offer like a proffered hand, and you know you really shouldn’t take it. You should say no. You should finish your coffee and eat your pretty privilege pancakes and leave. Nothing good ever comes from making connections like this; you’ve learned that lesson a million times before. But Lydia is standing there, smiling at you sweet and shy, and for the first time in a long time, you want to stay. Maybe that feeling is worth the inevitable heartbreak. 

“Is Darrell gonna be taking over, then?” you ask, reaching your metaphorical hand across the metaphorical gap to take hers. Metaphorically. 

She laughs, surprised, like she hadn’t known you’d been listening to that argument. It lights up her face and then your stomach in turn, waking up fluttering wings that had spent a year or so gathering dust. “He should be off his break by then, yeah.” 

“Okay.” You bite back a grin, ducking your head to avoid the full force of the smile on her face. “I guess I have time to sit a while.”

Read the chain on AO3!

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Born Under a Bad Sign | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: mentions of religious trauma, mentions of smut, dean’s self-esteem is rly bad :(, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 6130

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

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You and Sam had always been close friends, but you became even more like siblings after your last hunt. He seemed to understand you on a deeper level after you described your battle with religion to him. You understood him and his praying practices, and you were happy he was able to find some peace through it. You’d always bonded before over cult classic movies and your shared love of learning, but you were grateful to get to know him more than just on the surface level.

Your relationship with Dean was changing, too. You knew it scared him a bit; it scared you, too. But you were grateful that you had him in your life. You’d never cared for someone before the way you cared about him. However, the two of you left that part unspoken and let your bodies speak for themselves.

Dean visited your motel room more and more frequently after Sam fell asleep at night. You knew Sam had some clue as to what was going on between you and his brother, but he hadn’t prodded into your relationship much. For that, you were thankful.

Most of the time, Dean wasn’t even coming to your room for sex. He genuinely just wanted to be close to you or talk to you. The simple intimacy of sitting on the floor and playing a few rounds of Rummy or lying in bed and holding each other close while you talked about the most mundane things was almost better than sex for you. Your life was revolving less around hunting and more around Dean, and you weren’t quite sure how to feel about that.

That was, at least, until Sam went missing.

When Dean noticed Sam was gone, he was leaving your room after staying the night with you. He burst back into the room, saying, “(Y/N), get dressed, Sam’s gone.”

“What?” You jumped up, pulling jeans on. “Whaddaya mean ‘gone’?”

“I mean he’s gone, (Y/N). He’s gone,” he responded gruffly, raking a hand through his hair.

“Wait, are you sure he didn’t just go out for coffee or something?” you questioned, trying to calm him down.

“No, dude, it’s ten A.M.,” he replied. 

“Okay, well let’s call him,” you said. You pressed your phone to your ear only to find it went straight to voicemail.

“Dammit!” Dean could tell by the look on your face what happened.

*** “Dean, you really need to sleep,” you urged. His eyes had bags hanging under them and his hair was a mess from the number of times he’d run his hand over it. You couldn’t get him to sleep for more than a few hours the previous night when his body finally gave out. 

You’d spent three days thus far looking for Sam and driving all over the country looking for him. You tried tracking his phone, but you had no luck. In fact, the reason why was because he’d left his phone in the Impala. Bobby and Ellen hadn’t seen or heard from him, either. 

“(Y/N), I’m fine, dammit,” Dean responded harshly.

“I’m not gonna put up with you being a dick just because you’re stressed,” you shot back. “I’m worried about Sam, too. But you’re no good to him so sleep-deprived that you can’t tell your right from your left. I’m gonna start drugging you if you don’t go to bed voluntarily.”

He blinked at you, seeming curious about the last part of your statement.

“I’m kidding,” you said, pausing momentarily. “Maybe.”

He thought about your words for a minute. “Fine,” he murmured.

“Sorry? What was that?” you asked, half-mockingly.

“You heard me,” he grumbled back.

You conceded, giggling a little. 

“Don’t let me sleep any more than five hours,” he told you as you pushed him toward the bed in your motel room. 

“I’m not.” You were lying, though, and you had no doubt Dean picked up on that.

“(Y/N)—” he warned.

“Okay, okay. Fine. Just go to bed, asshole,” you told him, finally shoving him back on the bed.

About twenty minutes later, you’d readied for bed and headed over to Dean’s sleeping form. You sat on the bed across from him, and you brushed your hand over his hair. He breathed out contentedly, subconsciously relaxing under your touch. You smiled softly to yourself and crawled into bed next to him. You did your best not to disturb him while you got comfortable.

Fully settled, you took in his sculpted features. There were very few times you had seen Dean at peace even in his sleep, and this was not one of those times. You knew his sleep was necessary, but it was clear by the tension in his face that it was not going to be the most rested sleep in the world for him. 

Even in the midst of this awful situation, there was a nagging want in your heart for Dean. You knew neither of you were in a position for a real relationship, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t want one. In fact, you knew you were beginning to fall hopelessly in love with him. 

‘Fuck. I do love him,’ you thought. ‘Damnit, I am so fucked.’

“Hey, stop,” Dean muttered. “Stop!” he said, voice stronger this time.

“Dean?” you asked quietly, sitting up on your elbow.

“Fuck, stop it!” Dean cried. “Leave him alone!”

‘Oh, god, he’s gotta be dreaming about Sam,’ you thought. You began shaking him to try and wake him up. 

“No, no!” he screamed, writhing under you. 

“Dean!” You shook him harder.  

He lurched up, grabbing your wrist and flipping you on your back. He pinned your wrist above your head. 

You and Dean breathed heavily in each other’s faces, yours and Dean’s adrenaline pumping. When he realized what he was doing, he immediately let go of you. 

“Oh, god, I’m sorry—” Dean began.

“Dean, it’s okay,” you told him. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, gently grabbing your hands to begin to inspect your wrists for injuries.

You let him hold your hands, assuring him, “No, no! I’m okay, really. See?”

He was silent while he caught his breath, unable to look at you. You put your hand on his cheek and guided his face up gently to make him look at you. “Dean. I’m fine. I’m not upset.”

You could see tears forming in his eyes which was likely the reason he looked away. He pulled away from you and once looked down once more. You grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly to reassure him. “I know you’re upset, but you gotta go back to bed, okay? We’re no good to Sam when we’re tired zombies,” you attempted to joke. 

He said nothing, but he did lay back down with you. He turned in your hold to let you wrap your arms around his stomach and run your hands up his bare chest. You pressed kisses to the back of his shoulders, and his breathing evened out. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

It caught your attention, and you pulled his shoulder to get him to turn to you. He allowed you to roll him onto his back, and you propped yourself up on your elbow to look down at him. “Don’t ever let me hear you say that again,” you chastised as gently as you possibly could. You knew aggravation was seeping through your tone, though not at him. “I know you won’t believe me if I tell you, but you do.”

“(Y/N)—”

“No. Don’t. You are—” you cut yourself off, consistently shocked by how lowly Dean thought of himself. “I mean, I care about you. A lot. You know that.”

He nodded. 

“Then why can’t you believe you’re deserving of me? I’m here, aren’t I?” you asked rhetorically. “That’s not a mistake. If anything, I feel undeserving of you.”

“What?” Dean scoffed. “Why?”

“See? See how ridiculous that sounds?”

Dean eyed you for a moment. “I see what you did there.”

You smiled, but soon returned to seriousness. “Seriously. I care about you. A lot. For… a number of reasons. I can’t believe you think you don’t deserve me. I mean, you’re Dean fucking Winchester. You— you’re so strong. You’re really just… impressive as a human being. You’re smart, and funny, and— Jesus Christ— so fucking handsome. And— hmm!”

Dean cut you off by pulling you down to him and kissing you roughly. This kiss was different than others you’d shared before. It was passionate and kind all at once, and it was clear how hungry you were for each other. When you broke the kiss, the two of you pecked each other one final time before simply resting your foreheads together. 

“I was talking,” you said, breathless. 

He chuckled; one that rumbled deep in his chest. “Needed to kiss you, though.”

“Oh, shut up, you just didn’t wanna listen to me talk about you anymore,” you replied playfully.

“Oh, no, I was definitely enjoying that,” he snarked.

“Sure, Jan,” you laughed. You leaned down to kiss him once more before settling back down against him.

A few minutes passed before Dean found the courage to speak again. “Hey, can you, um—”

“Spit it out, Dean, I’m tired,” you said sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Just— Nevermind.”

“No, what?” you asked, head perking up. “C’mon, what?”

“Can you… spoon me again?”

You smiled, nodding excitedly. “That’s so cute.”

“Aw, shut up,” he muttered, rolling away from you. 

“I’m serious!” you said, peppering kisses along his shoulders. “I like that you let me hold you. Most guys wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he murmured, stroking your arm that was wrapped around his chest with his thumb.

You giggled, kissing his shoulder again. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“G’night, sweetheart.”

***

You spent the next several days searching for Sam. A week had passed with no word from him.

You leaned against the car next to a fidgeting Dean, hands in your pockets and staring at the ground. 

“Ellen, it's me again. Any chance you've heard from him?” Dean asked into his phone. “I swear, it's like looking for my dad all over again. I'm losing my mind here… No, I've called him a thousand times, there's nothing but voicemail. I don't know where he went, or why. Sam's just gone.” His phone beeped. “Hang on,” he told Ellen.

You could see “Sam’s cell” appearing on the screen of Dean’s phone. Your posture straightened as Dean answered the phone. “Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you okay?... Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. Where are you? Alright, don't move, I'm on my way.”

***

You burst through the door of the room Sam told Dean he was in to find Sam sitting completely motionless, staring blankly ahead. 

“Sam? Hey,” Dean said, moving over to him.

“Hey, guys,” he said numbly.

You kneeled down in front of him, and Dean took the opposite side. “Are you bleeding?” you asked him, noting the blood covering his abdomen and knuckles.

Sam couldn’t look at you. “I tried to wash it off.”

Dean mumbled, “Oh, my god,” upon noticing his younger brother’s shirt.

“I don't think it's my blood,” Sam murmured.

“Whose is it?” Dean questioned.

“I don’t know.”

“Sam, what happened?” you questioned gently.

He looked up at you. “I— I don’t remember anything.”

***

You found out Sam had checked into that motel a few days ago, had been smoking, stealing liquor from gas stations, and discovered a bloody knife in the back of a car he’d stolen. Your mind reeled at why Sam could’ve possibly done this. He was not this kind of person, and yet, you were beginning to get a little afraid of him. Is this what the yellow-eyed demon was going to turn him into?

Sam seemed more shaken than you or Dean did, and your heart ached for the poor guy. You couldn’t imagine not understanding what was happening to your own mind and body. He said he couldn’t remember anything beyond a diner you stopped at in West Texas; over a week ago and right before he went missing. 

Night fell as Dean drove down the highway the gas station attendant had pointed you toward, saying Sam drove off this way. 

“What's going on with you, Sam? Hm? 'Cause smoking, throwing bottles at people, I mean, that sounds more like me than you,” Dean quipped.

You weren’t sure what was more shocking; Sam smoking menthols like a chimney and chucking a bottle of liquor at a gas station attendant, or the fact that he couldn’t remember the last week. 

Suddenly, the younger brother perked up. “Dean, wait, right here. Turn down that road.”

“What?”

“I don't know how I know, I just do.”

Dean complied and turned down a back road onto a private property. Surrounding the house were emergency flood lights and security cameras capturing every possible angle of the home.

“Whoever lives here, I'd say they don't like surprises,” Sam noted as the three of you approached the house. You were surprised the flood lights hadn’t come on yet. 

“Should we knock?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam said.

You poked your head around the corner of the house while the boys talked. You quirked your head in confusion at the sight of broken glass covering the porch beneath a shattered window. “Hey guys?” 

They came over to you, and you waved your flashlight around the window.

“I'm surprised the cops didn't show. Place like this you'd think it'd have an alarm,” Dean commented.

Sam found a disabled alarm on the wall. “Yeah, you would.”

“What the fuck, man,” you muttered. You were the first to crawl into the house through the shattered window. Glass crunched beneath your boots when they hit the floor, and you waved your flashlight around the room to find turned over chairs, knocked over lamps, and broken picture frames. You shot a concerned look back at the boys before you followed the trail of displaced items to a back office. You nearly tripped over a body lying on the floor in the dark. You yelped in surprise, and Dean caught your arm before you could fall.

“Hit the lights,” he told his brother. You could hear the apprehension in his voice.

When the lights came on, you knelt next to the body. The middle-aged man was slumped on the floor on his side, and you turned him over to reveal his deeply cut throat. You put a hand over your mouth, and shot a worried glance at Dean. Dean’s eyes were on the body, widened in horror.

“I did this,” Sam breathed out.

“We don’t know that,” Dean immediately responded.

“What else do you need?” Sam scoffed. “I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood—”

You got up from the floor. “Sam, I don’t know, man, but this just doesn’t seem—” You ran a hand through your hair and turned away from him. 

“Look, even if you did do this I'm sure you had a reason, you know; self-defense, uh, he was, he was a bad son of a bitch, something!” Dean was still crouched on the floor, and he patted the body down. “He doesn't have any ID.”

“I need your lockpick,” Sam said.

You and Dean eyed him strangely. “What?”

“I need your lockpick,” he repeated. He took it and opened a double door closet inside the room. It revealed another room lined wall to wall in newspaper clippings, maps, and weapons.

“Holy shit,” you murmured.

“Either this guy's a Unabomber—” Dean began.

Sam cut him off. “Or a hunter. I think I killed a hunter.”

You looked up at a security camera in the corner of the room. “Let’s find out.” Dean had taken the SD card out of the security camera and handed it over to you. You cracked the password on the man’s computer and opened the file attached to the SD card. You went back in the footage to the day before Sam checked into the motel room, and your hand flew to your mouth.

Sam was dragging the struggling man behind the desk and propped him up against himself before slitting his throat. 

Dean inhaled sharply. “How do you erase this? Huh?” he questioned you.

“Already on it,” you said.

“I killed him, Dean. I just broke in and killed him,” Sam murmured.

“Listen to me. Whoever this guy is, he's a hunter. Which means that other hunters are going to come looking for his killer, which means we've got to cover our tracks, okay?” Dean said frantically.

Sam picked something up off the desk next to you while you continued working on the computer. “His name was Steve Wandell. This is a letter from his daughter.”

Suddenly, Dean grabbed the computer off the desk in front of you, slamming it to the ground beside you, making you jump. He stomped it to bits for good measure, breathing raggedly.

“Start wipin’ down your prints,” he said, handing you and Sam rags. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You and Sam were still too in shock to process what was going on. It dawned on you then that you may actually have to kill Sam. You couldn’t live with yourself if it came to that.

***

You and the brothers returned to Sam’s motel room to regroup, get some sleep, and take off before anyone could discover what Sam had done. Your mind was reeling with the possibility of having to put Dean’s brother down. You would never forgive yourself, and you knew Dean wouldn’t either. 

“Alright, we get a couple hours sleep and then we put this place in our rearview mirror,” Dean asserted.

Sam remained motionless near the door.

“Look, I know this is bad, okay? You gotta snap out of it. Sam, say something!” Dean pleaded.

The younger brother’s shoulders were slumped, and his sad eyes turned up to Dean. “Just get some sleep and leave in the morning? Murder, Dean. That's what I did.”

Dean seemed to search for words for a moment. “Maybe.”

Sam scoffed.

“Okay? Hey, we don't know... shapeshifter!”

“Oh, come on. You know it wasn't, you saw the tape. There was no eye flare, no distortion—”

Dean turned away from Sam. “Yeah, but it wasn't you! Alright? I mean, yeah, it might have been you, but it wasn't you.”

Sam sat down on the bed. “Well, I think it was. I think maybe more than you know.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean grunted.

“For the last few weeks I've been having... I've been having these feelings.”

“What feelings?” you questioned, crouching to the ground in front of him while Dean continued to fume.

“Rage. Hate. And I can't stop it.” Sam couldn’t lift his gaze to you. “It just gets worse. Day by day, it gets worse.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” you asked as gently as you could.

“I didn't want to scare you.”

“Well, bang-up job on that,” Dean quipped.

“Dean, the yellow-eyed demon, you know he has plans for me. And we both know that he's turned other children into killers before, too.”

The older brother turned around, eyes blazing. “No one can control you but you.

“It sure doesn't seem like that, Dean, it feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely I'm, I'm just becoming—” he trailed off, swallowing down his emotion.

“What?”

“Who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself. I gotta face up to who I am,” Sam continued.

Dean threw his arms up. “I didn’t mean this!”

The brunet’s eyes got teary. “But it's still true. You know that. Dad knew that too. That's why he told you, if it ever came to this…”

“Sam, stop it,” you begged.

“You promised me, (Y/N),” Sam said sadly. “You promised.”

Dean crossed the room to you in a flash. “No. Listen to me. We're gonna figure this out. Okay? I mean, there's gotta be a way, right?”

“Yeah, there is.” Sam took a handgun from the duffel bag resting on the bed beside him and shoved it into your hand. “I don't wanna hurt anyone else. I don't wanna hurt you two.”

You jumped back from Sam, and for the first time ever, holding a gun felt uncomfortable and foreign to you. 

“You won't,” Dean argued. “Whatever this is, you can fight it.”

“No. I can't. Not forever. (Y/N), you gotta do it.” Tears pooled in Sam’s eyes. He stared at you, pleading evident within his gaze.

You looked down at the gun and back at Sam.

“(Y/N), I swear, if you do this—”

“I know, Dean!” You looked up at Sam shakily. “I don’t wanna do this.”

Sam nodded. “I know.”

You looked between a torn Dean and resigned Sam. You shook your head and dropped the gun. “I can’t.”

Dean sighed in relief, and Sam stood. You shouldered past him toward the door of the room to get some air.

“That’s too bad,” you heard Sam say behind you, his voice suddenly sending a chill down your spine. The next thing you heard was Dean grunting, and you wheeled around to see him drop to the floor. Sam loomed over you next, and you tried your best to fight him off. However, you knew it was pointless. The pistol he’d given you whipped across your face powerfully, and the world went black.

***

The next time you came to, an incessant knocking was filling your ears. You heard Dean groaning a few feet away from you, and you suddenly remembered what happened. 

The motel manager opened the door. “Hey. It's past your checkout.”

“What?” Dean questioned groggily.

“It's past checkout, and I've got a couple here needs your room.” The manager gestured to an embarrassed businessman with a hooker standing behind him.

Dean grumbled, “Yeah, I'll bet they do. What time is it?”

“Twelve-thirty.”

“That guy who was with us, have you seen him?”

“Yeah, he left before dawn in your car, and you should have gone with him, because now I'm gonna have to charge you extra.”

“Oh, son of a…” Dean muttered.

“It's just policy, sir.”

“We need to use your computer,” you spoke up.

The manager folded his arms. “Now, why would I let you use my computer?” *** The manager counted the stack of cash you and Dean scrounged up to pay him off for letting you two use his computer. 

Your mind raced as Dean tracked his brother down on the phone with their cellular provider. What was wrong with Sam? Was this really who he was now? Who could he have possibly been going to see and why? Could he have killed another hunter? Could you have stopped it if you just pulled the trigger? Did you do the right thing?

Dean’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “(Y/N), we gotta go. Duluth, Minnesota.”

***

You and Dean drove hours in silence. Dean surprisingly hadn’t put on one of his many cassette tapes to fill the silence. Your heart in your throat and breathing labored, you were finally brave enough to offer your hand to him. You couldn’t look at him, afraid he’d maybe be angry with you or wouldn’t need your comfort, but you kept your hand on the seat between you all the same. Finally, he joined his with yours and squeezed tightly. Neither of you said a word or looked at each other, but you kept each other grounded in your completely unfathomable situation.

When you arrived at the bar you’d tracked Sam to in Duluth, you and Dean grabbed flasks of holy water from the trunk and your handguns from Dean’s glovebox; although you knew you couldn’t use the latter on Sam. 

You could hear Sam talking, but you couldn’t quite tell what he was saying or who he was talking to through the door of the bar. On Dean’s count of three, the two of you burst through the door with your guns ready.

“Sam!” Dean yelled.

You noticed the person he’d been talking to was a tied-up and gagged Jo, and Sam took a knife from above her on the post she was tied to and held it to her throat. His calm expression shifted to one of desperate panic, and you suddenly realized what was happening.

“I begged you to stop me, Dean,” Sam cried.

“Put the knife down, dammit,” Dean ordered.

“I told you I can't fight it! My head feels like it's on fire, all right?! Dean. Kill me, or I'm going to kill her. Please. You'd be doing me a favor! Shoot me,” Sam ordered. He turned to you and Dean, arms spread. “Shoot me, (Y/N)! Please!”

You glanced at Jo out of the corner of your eye. “Sam, come on, dude!”

Dean turned away, lowering his gun.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sam spat. “Are you seriously gonna let Jo die?” Sam went to approach his brother, but Dean turned suddenly and flicked holy water at his brother from his flask. The water hissed and steamed when it made contact with Sam’s skin.

“You son of a bitch!” you screamed, rushing at Sam. Sam’s eyes turned black and he threw you off him and into a table behind you. You cried out as your back made contact with the table and chairs, and you collapsed to the floor in a heap. You raised your head to see Sam bursting through a window and Dean cutting Jo free. You got back to your feet painfully and grabbed your gun, sprinting after Sam.

“(Y/N)!” you heard Dean call as you leapt out of the window. He soon caught up to you as you ran down the dock toward a warehouse. You knew that was where Sam— well, the demon— had gone given the swinging of its doors. You and Dean flanked either side of the door before bursting through the warehouse, pressed back to back and scanning the room. You then crouched next to him when you heard wood creak a few yards away.

“So who are you?” Dean called.

“I got lots of names,” Sam replied. His voice was quite far off.

“You've been in Sam since he disappeared, haven't you?” you spat.

“You shoulda seen your face when you thought he murdered that guy. Pathetic,” the demon called back.

“Why didn't you kill us? You had a dozen chances,” Dean replied. He motioned for you to follow him behind a tall stack of boxes to find better cover.

“Nah, that would have been too easy. Where's the fun in that? You see, this was a test. Wanted to see if I could push you or your girlfriend far enough to waste Sam. Should've known you two wouldn't have the sack. Anyway. Fun's over now,” Sam bitterly informed you.

“Well, I hope you got your kicks. 'Cause you're gonna pay hell for this, I'm gonna make sure of that,” Dean growled.

“How? You can't hurt me. Not without hurting your little brother.”

Dean put his gun away, opting for the holy water flask in his jacket. You kept your gun drawn.

“See, I think you're gonna die, Dean. You and every other hunter I can find. One look at Sam's dewey, sensitive eyes? They'll let me right in their door,” the demon laughed. You heard the back door of the warehouse open, and you and Dean quickly followed. When you reached the dock, you barely had time to register Sam standing several feet away with a gun drawn before two shots fired off; one hitting Dean and the other grazing your arm. You tumbled to the dock below from the impact, and you were knocked out cold yet again from the eight-foot drop. 

***

You could just barely make out the conversation happening around you as you began to come-to from the second time you’d been knocked out by Sam. You were lying on something hard with something soft under your head, but you couldn’t quite open your eyes to figure out what was going on.

“Don't be a baby!” you heard Jo say.

“God!” Dean groaned.

You wanted to move to help him, but you still couldn’t open your eyes or move. 

“Almost. Alright, got it. Got it,” Jo announced.

You heard glass clinking before Dean grunted, “God, you’re a butcher. Should’ve let (Y/N) patch me up when she comes-back-to.”

Jo scoffed. “You're welcome.”

“Alright, are we done?”

“Would you give me two minutes to patch you up? You can't help Sam if you're bleeding to death.”

“You should be payin’ more attention to (Y/N). She’s the one out cold with a bleeding head.”

‘Oh. My head’s bleeding?’ you thought. Suddenly, you could feel the blood trickling down your face. You slowly began to recognize the dim light coming from the room around you, and realized you were probably back in the bar you’d found Jo and Sam in.

“So, how did you know? That he was possessed?” Jo asked Dean.

“Uh, ah, I didn't, I just knew that it couldn't have been him.”

Jo paused for a moment, seeming hesitant to speak again. “Hey, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“I know demons lie, but... do they ever tell the truth, too?”

“Uh, um, yeah, sometimes, I guess. Especially if they know it'll mess with your head.” He paused as you began to writhe around on the floor. “Why do you ask?”

“Nothing. Doesn't matter. So do you have any idea where he's headed to next?”

You groaned, catching Dean’s attention. “Sweetheart?”

Your heart fluttered at the name despite the throbbing in your head, arm, and back. You moaned again, shifting uncomfortably.

When you opened your eyes, Dean was above you. “You there? You okay?"

“Dee,” you smiled groggily.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m here.” He slipped a hand under your shoulders and the other under your knees. “C’mon, we gotta go find Sammy.”

“Okay,” you said, still not fully aware of what was going on.

“Wait, Dean, let me—” Jo tried.

“No, I got her,” he responded. He began to carry you toward the door. 

“Where we goin’, then?” Jo asked.

“You're not coming,” he replied simply.

Jo’s voice rose. “The hell I'm not. I'm a part of this now.”

“I can't say it more plain than this. You try to follow us, and I'll tie you right back to that post and leave you here. This is our fight,” he said firmly. “I'm not getting your blood on my hands. That's just how it's gonna be.”

A few moments of silence passed, and Dean began walking again. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

In your heart, you knew he wouldn’t. You’d call Jo and thank her for helping you and Dean. 

You finally had full cognitive function back when Dean got you to the car. He gingerly reached out to your still bleeding head wound. He sucked in air through his teeth. “I’m gonna patch you up, okay?”

You nodded.

He immediately set to work. “Hey, uh—” he paused, seeming to search for what he needed to say, “—what was that… concussion-check-thing you did on me? Back when we dealt with that freaky ass scarecrow?”

You grinned at the memory. “I don’t think you need to check, Dean, I definitely have a concussion,” you said.

“I still wanna see how bad it is,” he told you.

“It’s not awful,” you said. “But I’ll be down for the count for a bit.”

You were suddenly wide awake when you felt hydrogen peroxide hitting your arm where Sam’s bullet grazed you. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, I’m not,” you admitted.

Dean finished patching up the wound on your head, a comfortable silence settling between you. “Thanks for not shooting my brother,” he mumbled.

You snorted. “Yeah, of course.”

He paused again. “Why didn’t you?”

You considered before responding truthfully. “Couldn’t live with myself if I did. Couldn’t live with myself if you hated me.”

He searched your eyes before slowly leaning in to kiss you. You leaned in, too, stretching your neck up to meet his lips. His kiss was gentle and conveyed everything the two of you couldn’t say verbally. 

“Alright, c’mon, we gotta go get Sam,” Dean said. “He’s goin’ to Bobby’s.” ***

“Stay here,” Dean told you. He left the windows rolled down on the Impala to keep some air moving through it while he went into Bobby’s house to confront Sam.

You went to protest, but your aching limbs proved to you that you would be completely useless.

Dean chuckled at you as you wordlessly settled back into your chair. “Atta girl.”

Minutes felt like hours as you waited for Dean to emerge from the house. You knew Bobby was smart enough to figure out Sam was possessed and had likely ensnared him in a Devil’s Trap. Still, that didn’t stop you from worrying about your boys. 

A cool breeze carried Dean’s scream of agony through the car, and you immediately jumped to your feet despite the protesting in your back and head. Your vision nearly whited out when you stood up, and the light of day was too bright for you. Still, you were fueled by the thought of Dean being hurt and stumbled your way into Bobby’s house. When you finally made it inside, Dean and Sam were lying on the floor, each writhing in pain, and Bobby was holding a hot poker.

“I thought I told you to stay in the car, (Y/N),” Dean groaned.

“I thought—” you cut yourself off. “Nevermind.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, kid, but you look like hell,” Bobby told you.

You laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

Bobby then made you lie down on his couch and you threw your arm over your eyes to block out the light. You heard Sam and Dean patching each other up, and Bobby asked a question that caught your attention. “You kids ever hear of a hunter named Steve Wandell?”

“Why do you ask?” Dean replied.

“Just heard from a friend. Wandell's dead. Murdered in his own house. You wouldn't know anything about that.” You could tell what Bobby was meaning from his tone.

“No, sir, never heard of the guy,” Dean said before Sam could.

“Good,” Bobby stated firmly. “Keep it that way. Wandell's buddies are looking for someone or something to string up, and they're not going to slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?”

“We better hit the road,” Dean said. “We should get (Y/N) one of those fancy sleep mask things for her to sleep in the car.”

“How ‘bout just a pair of sunglasses, Dean,” you deadpanned. You could hear Sam chuckling as footsteps approached; you could tell they belonged to the older brother. 

“Here. Take these.” You weren’t sure what Bobby was referring to given you refused to take your hand off your face for even a second.

“What are they?” Sam questioned.

“Charms. They'll fend off possession. That demon's still out there. This'll stop it from getting back up in ya.”

“That sounds vaguely dirty, but uh, thanks.” Dean’s chest rumbled against you as he spoke, and you relaxed into his hold.

“You're welcome. You kids be careful now. And (Y/N), take care of yourself.”

You made a thumbs-up gesture in Bobby’s general direction without uncovering your eyes, earning a chuckle from all three men.

***

You slept most of the drive in the backseat. You were in and out of consciousness and couldn’t quite string together the conversations Sam and Dean were having. However, you paid close attention to their latest interaction.

“I was awake for some of it, Dean,” said Sam. “I watched myself kill Wandell with my own two hands; I saw the light go out in his eyes.”

“That must have been awful,” the older brother replied.

“That's not my point. I almost carved up Jo too. But no matter what I did, you wouldn't shoot. Neither would she,” Sam noted.

“It was the right move, Sam. It wasn't you,” Dean argued.

“Yeah, this time. What about next time?”

“Sam, when Dad told me... that I might have to kill you, it was only if I couldn't save you. Now, if it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna save you.”

You loved how much Dean cared about his little brother.

Dean laughed softly after a moment.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Dude, you— you like, full-on had a girl inside you for like a whole week.” He laughed again, as did Sam. “That's pretty naughty.”

You smiled to yourself as sleep claimed you once more.

***

Somewhere between state lines, you and the Winchesters were stopped to rest at a motel. Thoughts swam in your head as you thumbed the amulet Bobby had given the three of you for protection from future possessions. Suddenly, you slapped lightly against your forehead.

"Guys!" you exclaimed.

Both brothers startled.

"Tattoos!" You stood excitedly.

"Sweetheart, what are you—"

You began to pace around. "I've been tryin' to think of a way to make these amulets more permanent. How 'bout tattoos?"

Sam hesitated, but nodded eventually. "You're a genius. Why didn't I think of that?"

" 'Cause I'm smarter than you." You playfully stuck your tongue out at them.

And so, the three of you set off to find a tattoo parlor. Each of you got the amulet's symbol tattooed on you; the boys on their chests, and you on your hip. Dean was very clearly excited about the placement of the piece.

"Control yourself, please," you scolded while the artist worked.

"Tryin'," Dean replied.

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