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fandom-imagines-stories · 3 years

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No Worse Company

gif credit: @holylulusworld

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 2385

The Deal S2 E2: Series Masterlist

Summary: The reader copes with her return while Jody tries to get a hold of the boys. Cas deals with what Lucifer did while possessing him.

Notes: Here’s the next part in Chapter Two of the Deal Anthology! I hope you guys enjoy it. This one feels a little like a filler, but I’m really excited for the next part.

He couldn’t stop looking. After everything that happened- all of the pain and the anguish, all of it his fault- he couldn’t stop looking. He had to find Lucifer and he had to put him back in hell. He owed you that.

Driving down the road in his stolen truck, Cas’ eyes fell on the passenger seat. He frowned. That drive to St. Louis didn’t seem so long ago anymore. Sam and Dean’s cries as they watched the hellhound tear you apart were still fresh in his mind. He had turned away. At the time, he thought it's what you would have wanted. For him to have his final memory of you be one of your smiling face, content with the family you had found. Now he felt like he had turned his back on you. Now he was cursed to see your screaming face forever.

He had to find Lucifer.

Cas glanced down at his cellphone and sighed. Multiple missed calls and unopened messages from Dean filled his screen. He couldn’t face them. Not until he found the Devil.

One Week Ago

The police officer that found you had found some clothes that were two sizes too big but you took them gratefully nonetheless. You were sitting at her desk, staring blankly at a photo beside her computer. Her big happy family smiled over a picnic table on a beautiful sunny day. You wanted to put your fist through it.

“Alright sweetheart, I’ve got someone on their way to pick you up.” The officer gave you a small smile.

“Did you find Dean?”

“Not exactly.” She pulled up a seat across from you. “It’s a good thing I was the one that found you. I don’t know much about those Winchesters, but I know that if any other cop in this joint put them through the system, they’d probably take you in for questioning. Fortunately for you, I have a friend up North that told me to give her a call if I ever heard the names Sam or Dean Winchester.”

“Look, I appreciate your help, but I can’t stay here.” You stood up, but she blocked your path.

“Well you’re certainly not going out there on your own.” Her expression was caring, but stern. “I don’t know what happened to you, honey, but I know that going out alone will only make things worse for you.”

“Believe me, I can handle myself.” Nothing in this woman’s imagination could even remotely describe everything that had happened to you. Still, the officer stood her ground.

“Right now you’ve got two choices. You can either stay here and one of the other officers will take you to a hospital, or you can come with me and we can meet Jody half-way.”

“Wait… Jody?” Your face softened, the idea of seeing a familiar face warming your cool exterior.

“Yeah, Sheriff Jody Mills up in Sioux Falls.” She put her hands on her hips. “Do you know her?”

Jody, even though she wasn’t much older, was like a mother to you. She helped you and boys out when you needed and had saved your life on more than one occasion. You pictured being enveloped in one of her hugs and a small smile crept onto your face.

“I used to.”

“Then let's get moving. We can get you something to eat on the way there.” The officer grabbed her keys and started towards the parking lot. As you followed her, something caught your eye. Your face reflected back at you in the glass of the window and a moment of panic nearly took you off your feet. Your eyes were black.

Now

You could tell that Jody had been walking on eggshells for the past week. After everything that was going on, you couldn’t really blame her. When she saw you the first time, she tried to kill you, thinking you were a shapeshifter or some other kind of monster. When she realized that it was really you, she was speechless for the entire ride back to Sioux Falls.

Jody had been trying to get a hold of Dean for the past couple of days, but to no avail. The longer you waited, the more and more you debated running away in the middle of the night. Could you face him? Jody said that you’d been ‘dead’ for three years. A lot had changed. You knew that you were his Y/N anymore. Maybe he wasn’t your Dean.

“Coffee?” Jody offered, holding a mug in front of you.

“Thanks.” You took the warm ceramic mug and held it between your palms. The heat spread across your skin as the smell wafted up to your nose. Who knew a cup of coffee could hold so many memories. Sitting across from Dean in the kitchen of the bunker or looking over a case with Sam in the middle of the night with only caffeine to keep you going.

“I might be a little later at the station today. Do you think you’ll be okay here?”

“I think I can handle a few more hours of daytime television and boxed mac and cheese, Jody.” You smirked. She shook her head with a light chuckle.

“I have to say, I missed that snark of yours.” She finished her own coffee before putting on her coat. “Now you call if you need anything, okay? I’m going to try and get a hold of the boys again.”

“Jody…” You started, but looking at her hopeful face, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Of course she would think that reuniting everybody would solve everything. She didn’t know what was lurking under your skin. You put on a smile. “Have a great day.” She put a hand on top of yours.

“You too, sweetie.”

She glanced back at you with a flash of concern before the front door closed behind her.

“I thought she’d never leave.” The voice made you jump out of your seat, the coffee mug sent shattering on the floor. A woman walked in from the hallway with a smug smile on her face. You lunged across the table, reaching for a knife from the counter. She grabbed your arm and pinned it to the table. With a single blink, her eyes turned jet black. “Boo.”

“Lavina.” You gasped, trying to yank your arm away.

“Aw, you missed me.” She laughed, raking her nails across the back of your hand just deep enough to break the skin. “So how’s my little protégé doing back up top?”

“How are you here?” She let you go and you examined the scratches.

“What? You think the security in Hell is really the top priority right now?” She wandered around the kitchen, picking up the knife you had been reaching for and twisted it back and forth in the light. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to kill you. That’d be too easy.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I’m just checking in to see how you’re holding up.” Lavina flipped on the radio and laughed at the tune. It was just the last few seconds, but it still sent a chill up your spine.

“You know that you’re the only one to say okay. But you’re motorin’ yeah motorin’.”

“I remember this one.” Lavina smirked. “Didn’t this used to be you and dreamboat Dean’s song?”

“Shut up.”

“What? Aren’t you excited to see your sweetie-pie Winchester again?” She read the fear behind your glowering eyes and chuckled. “Or maybe you don’t want to see him. Maybe you know.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about you black-eyed bitch.”

“Maybe you know that whatever soul you’ve got walking around in that meat suit isn’t all you anymore.” The song on the radio ended and you recognized the next song as Bad Company. “Man, this station is on fire this morning! There’s no worse company than yourself when you’ve become what you have.”

You tried to block out her words, but you knew that she was right. So you turned away so she wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing your fear. Your fists clenched at your sides.

“Get out.”

“Sooner or later, you’ll be begging to come back to me. Begging to finally tear all of those souls apart. Begging to embrace what you really are. Let’s just hope you realize it before your precious Dean gets hurt.”

Bad, bad company til the day I die

With an angered scream, you grabbed a plate and hurled at Lavina’s head. She caught it and held it out in front of her. Clicking her tongue, she let it fall to the floor. The sound of the ceramic shattering made you jump.

“Don’t worry. You’ll know how to find me.” The pieces cracked under her boots as she walked across the kitchen and vanished down the hall.

You were shaking- from rage or from terror, you didn’t know. The image of your reflection back at the police station had been haunting your thoughts ever since. You had yet to look into another mirror out of fear of what you’d see. Lavina was right. Whatever Amara had brought back, it wasn’t you.

Sam was surprised when Jody told him to meet her at the station rather than at her house. Maybe Dean was right. Something just felt off about this whole thing. Dean’s whole body was tense, his eyes scanning every part of the room, expecting to see a monster ready to pounce.

“There you boys are.” Jody let out an exasperated sigh and pulled both Winchesters into a hug. Both could tell how freaked she was. Sam pushed back and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Jody, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. There’s just… there’s a different problem back at my house.”

“Is something wrong with Alex? Or Claire?”

“No, no. It isn’t them. Alex has been taking a nursing course in Rapid for the past two weeks and god knows where Claire is.” She ushered them into her office and closed the door. “No, this is… weirder. It’d be best for you guys to just see for yourselves, but I wanted to prep you first.”

“Prep us for what?” Dean asked, that deep feeling in his gut returning. Jody looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

“For what you’re going to see.”

“Jody, what are you talking about?”

“I can’t explain it. I don’t know what happened. One minute I’m dealing with a couple of pot-smoking kids and the next I’m getting a call from a friend of mine saying that…” She took a deep breath to keep from rambling. “Like I said, it’s better for you to just go and see her yourselves.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look and Dean’s forehead creased with confusion.

“Her?”

Cas stood alone, looking out on the vast lake before him. His search was getting him nowhere and nothing was helping with the visions. Everywhere he looked, he saw hands slick with your blood. Every car horn or singing bird was replaced by your screams. He was supposed to be your friend. Lucifer used that against him.

“Cas, please I know you’re in there somewhere.” You cried, just earning another punch to the gut.

“I’ve got to admit, you’re holding up a lot better than Dean ever did down here. Only took him 30 years to give in. It’s been, what, 300 for you?” He blew out a low whistle. “For a while, I liked having Crowley as my chew toy, but when I found out you were down here, man I just couldn’t resist.” He laughed as he ran his finger down your bloody arm.

“Cas…” You pleaded, screaming when he drew a blade down your face, just missing your eye. Blood dripped from your temple, making it hard to see You were used to pain by now, but this was different. This was looking at the face of your friend and seeing only malice.

“Lavina told you about good old Dean getting ganked by Metatron, right?” Cas’ gave you a fake pout. No, not Cas. Lucifer. “I mean, come on. Metatron? Of all the angels in heaven that’s the one that quote-unquote ‘Michael’s Sword’ bites the bullet for?” He laughed picking something up from the table. “I guess that’s not really the right expression, right? His death went a little more like this.”

He shoved the angel blade deep into your chest and your mouth fell open, but no scream came out. He grabbed you by the hair and lifted you up so his lips were by your ear.

“All of this- the suffering and the torture- was for nothing. You saved Dean only for him to die a few months later. You’re death meant nothing. You mean nothing.” When he let you go, you fell to the floor, held up only by the chains on your wrist. Your blank eyes stared back up at him. Not that it mattered. You’d be awake soon enough for him to start over.

When they got to Jody’s house, Dean had one hand on his pistol and the other clenched at his side. Sam stood up a little too straight, clearly on edge from whatever lay beyond that door. Jody turned the key and the three went inside. When Jody got to the kitchen, however, her face fell.

“Damnit.” She muttered, pulling out her own weapon. The boys joined her, looking down at the shattered plate on the floor. Sam and Dean went to search other rooms in the house while she cautiously opened the back door and peaked out into the yard. With a sigh, she holstered her gun. “Out here, boys!”

Sam was first, but he froze on the spot. He just stared, eyes wide and heart pounding. Dean had to push past him to get out the door. When he did, that feeling in his gut made him sick to his stomach. The last time he saw that face, it was being torn apart.

You dropped the whiskey bottle into the grass and felt tears welling up in your eyes. He was finally here.

“Dean…” You gasped, wanting to reach for him, but you couldn’t move. You were frozen under his glaring eyes. It wasn’t until his pistol was aimed at your head that you snapped out of it.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone; @crist1216

The Deal Series: @writeroutoftime; @ minninugget; @mia-ono; @erule; @ dannyo000

#dean winchester x reader #the deal #bad company #sam winchester #jensen ackles #supernatural imagine #jody mills #supernatural #castiel #lucifer #dean winchester #the winchesters #demons #hell #the deal anthology

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impala-dreamer · 4 years

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Two Weeks Notice - Day Eight

~With the world practicing self-isolation, Y/N and Dean break all the rules of social distancing and common decency as they explore an empty bunker and use the time alone to their playful advantage…~

Dean x Reader

3,575 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Toy Play. Edging. Remote Control Vibe. Dom!Dean. Sir!Kink. Sex in an uncomfortable place (not the back of a volkswagen).

Two Weeks Notice Masterlist ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ My Original Works on Amazon

Y/N stood at the side of the bed and checked the time on her phone again, deciding enough was enough.

Very slowly, she slid into bed beside Dean and curled up next to him, tucking her knees and hands against her chest. She was careful not to touch him, not wanting him to wake just yet. She stared for a while, like she loved to do, attempting for the thousandth time to count every freckle on his sleeping face. She never made it past thirty before he either woke to disrupt her or she got so distracted by his beauty that she lay into kissing him instead.

She interrupted herself this time, too excited not to rouse him. With the tip of her index finger, Y/N softly traced the line of his nose from bridge to tip and then again as she whispered his name.

“Dean…”

He wriggled his nose and huffed. “I’m asleep.”

She laughed under her breath and ran her finger over his nose again. “Time to get up.”

He groaned and jerked his head to the side, trying to swat her away. “You promised me a nap.”

“And nap you did. It’s nearly three. Get up.” She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. She meant to hop out of bed immediately after, but Dean’s reflexes were quick, and he grabbed her arm, yanking her down for a proper kiss.

His arm locked her to him, clamping down and around the small of her back like a gate closing. He moaned into her mouth, leisurely licking at her gasping lips, and Y/N felt the stir of desire ready to distract her fully.

“Nope!” She pushed him back and sat up, quickly shaking off the shiver of need.

Dean popped up as well. “Excuse me?” His forehead creased adorably as he questioned her departure.

Y/N crossed her arms. “I have plans for today.”

Dean groaned and fell back against his pillow. “You always have plans.”

Offended, Y/N pushed at his nearest shoulder and damn near rolled him out of bed. “We can stop anytime you want. Just sit here and stare at the walls for another week.”

Dean sighed. “Fine.”

“Don’t fucking sigh at fucking. What’s wrong with you, old man?”

He half turned, glaring over his shoulder at her.

“Stop being grumpy and go get the blue box from under my bed.”

“You get it.”

Y/N swiftly removed her shirt and tossed it in his face. “You get it.”

Dean rubbed a tired hand down his face and sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. “Why do you need your photos now?”

“Photos are in the green box,” she corrected. “I want the blue box. It’s towards the headboard next to the hatchet.”

He paused, hand on the doorknob. “Why do you have a hatchet under your bed?”

Y/N shrugged and settled into the pillows. “Grimes Protocol.”

Dean laughed and shook his head as he stepped into the hallway. “The Walking Dead isn’t real, Y/N!”

Grinning, she shimmied out of her panties. “You don’t know what this Corona-thing is gonna do! I’d rather be safe than dead!”

Her room wasn’t very far and even if it was, with the empty hallway, it was easy enough to talk through the space between. His voice was a little muffled by the distance, but Y/N could just picture his face.

“Holy crap!”

“Pick one!”

“What do you mean pick one?”

Y/N sat up and pushed her voice towards the open door. “I mean, pick one and get back here with it!”

“Can I pick two?”

She chewed her lip for a moment. She knew what was in the box and would not be opposed to him using more than one at a time. Not at all.

Before she could reply, Dean yelled, “Hey, what’s this pink squiggly thing?”

Her eyes lit up and her nipples hardened with excitement. “Bring it!”

The ‘pink squiggly thing’ was an internal, remote controlled vibrator, and one of Y/N’s favorite toys. Dean was a little annoyed that she had never shared the contents of her toy box with him, and thus decided to use the remote control app to his advantage, in a little game that he was making up as he was going along.

For the rest of the day, Y/N was to wear the toy, and only the toy, as she went about her usual routine. There were plenty of chores to be done around the Bunker, and Y/N was going to do them all while Dean did whatever he wanted. The catch was simple: whenever she got buzzed, she would fall to her knees and crawl to wherever Dean was and service him in any way he chose. It was only fair.

After all, she had disturbed his nap.

There was something intensely erotic about walking around the Bunker naked. Dean had been nice enough to let her wear socks, as the floors were always cold, but the rest of her was completely bare, on display for the ghosts that haunted the tiles.

Of course, there weren’t really any ghosts, but as she walked down the halls, she imagined the Men of Letters of old gasping and clutching their hearts as they saw her defiling their sacred underground lair. Oh, how they’d lose their minds.

With a proud smile, she shook her hips a little more as she carried the laundry basket to the machine. Even under quarantine, socks must be washed.

As she set the basket down in front of the washer, she felt a wave of vibration deep inside her cunt. Her body stiffened and her muscles squeezed against it, momentarily blocking any brain function as the pleasure took her by surprise. When she could think, she immediately dropped to her knees on the cold tile and turned, ready to crawl to her newly appointed master.

Dean wasn’t far, leaning in the doorway with a smirk on his lips and his phone in hand. He swiped his finger across the app and the vibration intensified, making Y/N shiver as she crossed the room to sit at his feet.

“Very good!” he praised, resisting the urge to reach down and pat her head like a dog. He knew she liked to be degraded, but that would probably have earned him a hard flick in the nuts.

Y/N licked her lips and sat back on her heels, clenching her thighs as the buzzer kept doing its job. She looked up and smiled, waiting. “How may I service you, Dean?”

He hummed and dropped the intensity. “Dean,” he echoed. “Sounds so... informal.”

She bit back a smirk. “I’m sorry.” Clearing her throat and squeezing her tits together, she tried again. How may I service you, Mr. Winchester?”

“Better,” he said with a shrug, tapping his screen to make the buzzing pulse at a steady pace. “But...let’s try… Sir. I think I’d like to hear that.”

Y/N closed her eyes as a wave of pleasure overtook her momentarily. She’d been wanting to call him that forever, that and more, but it was an awkward conversation. However, if they were already playing, and he was offering…

“Yes, Sir,” she cooed, looking up at him and batting her eyes. “How may I service you?”

A smile broke out across his face. “Oh, I like the sound of that.” He cocked his head and looked her over, deciding where to start. “Why don’t you rub those pretty tits for me? I want to see how hard your nipples can get.”

Y/N bit her lip and nodded. “Yes, Sir.” Both hands cupped her breasts and she bounced them for him, watching as his eyes widened with delight. A few twists and tugs on her nipples had them standing tall and each tweak made her shoulders twitch.

When her breath began to get heavy and her eyes refused to open, Dean turned off the app and her vibrator and shoved his phone in his back pocket. “That’s all for now. Get back to work.”

Y/N’s eyes were huge as he spun on his heel and walked away, shocked that he was actually leaving her like that. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself as she climbed to her feet. “It’s gonna be a long day.”

Dean was in the Library when Y/N walked in with her duster. She and Sam had a routine worked out where she knocked the dust onto the floor and he mopped it up. Seemed sort of silly for her to be reaching up so high when he was so tall already, but she figured the boys liked watching her climb and stretch and bend.

Dean was certainly appreciating it now. He pretended to read a book, something he had grabbed from the shelf without looking at the spine as he jumped into the armchair to beat her into the room, but his eyes were glued to Y/N’s bare ass as she fluttered around the room, cleaning.

As she dusted, she hummed to herself. It was a sweet familiar melody, something that Dean felt had a Disney ring to it. He smiled and gave up the ruse, closing the book in his lap and resting his chin in his hand, elbow on the arm of the chair.

Her nakedness stood out starkly against the stacks of books; she looked like a faerie floating about, whipping away dust with her feathery wings.

“So this is love...do do do do... so this is love…” Y/N made her way through the Library, flicking away every drop of dust and totally ignoring Dean. She could feel his eyes on her body, following wherever she went, but she kept her mind on her task. When she felt that she’d done enough, she looked around, hands on her naked hips, and nodded. “Very nice.”

Another swoosh of feathers against the nearest shelf and she took off, heading into the next room. As her foot hit the bottom stop, her vibrating bat signal went off.

Taken so by surprise, the feather duster fell from her hand like an angel falling from heaven. “Oh my…” She moaned at the violent pulsing against her g-spot and sank to her knees, slowly turning towards Dean.

His eyes were dark and mischievous as he controlled the toy, thumb sliding back and forth across the screen, mucking with the intensity and speed of the vibrations. With his free hand, he crooked a finger at her and puckered his lips, calling to her with two quick air kisses. “Here, kitty, kitty.”

Y/N crawled to him, hands and knees flat on the polished floor, bare ass high and open for any eyes that would have a week ago been passing by. She shivered at the thought and bit her lip, holding in a tiny moan of weakness as Dean drove the toy to its highest setting.

As she grew closer, he let her stimulation ebb, slowly subsiding to a light and steady wave. She sank down further, laying on her forearms, panting slightly as she looked up at him.

Dean set the book down on the end table next to him and leaned forward, clasping his hands, elbows on his knees. “Hey there,” he grinned, body tingling with the power he held over her. “How ya feelin’?”

Almost out of breath, Y/N looked up, stretching her neck awkwardly to meet his gaze. “I’m pretty fucking horny, actually.”

Dean laughed and licked his lips. He scooted to the edge of the chair so he was even closer to her and whispered, “Is your pussy nice and wet?”

His voice ran down her spine like fire, and she nodded. “Very wet, Sir.”

He tapped his upper lip with one finger and then sat back, getting comfortable. “So play with it,” he ordered casually, resting one hand on his right thigh, watching.

Y/N swallowed hard and sat up, spreading her knees wide as she rested on her heels. One hand fell behind her, palm flat on the cold floor as the other slid down her belly and tapped gently on her clit. She bit her lip as the pleasure rolled through her; the vibe inside, her hand on her clit, it was all breathtaking and delicious.

Dean watched on as she rubbed, fiddling now and then with the controls. He loved the tremble in the soft flesh of her thighs; the way she began to bounce as if on his cock as she got closer to cumming. He kept a closer eye on that edge, making sure she rode it as long as possible without tipping over. When her stomach tightened too much, he eased up on the vibrations. When her panting ceased, he turned it up. When her eyes began to roll and her jaw hung slack, letting out heated moans, he cut the power, turning the toy off completely.

“Wha-hey!” Y/N’s eyes popped open and she pouted, near to tears as she was denied once more.

“Hands off, Princess,” he told her, clearing his throat and picking up his book. Dean crossed one leg and turned to a random page, tearing his eyes from Y/N’s shivering body. “Get back to work.”

She grumbled to herself as she struggled to her feet, using a nearby chair for help. “You suck.”

Dean lifted a brow, but not his head. “What’s that?”

“Nothing…”

Dinner came and went with Y/N still naked, sitting at the table on a dishcloth. Dean let her be for a while, keeping his phone and the app safely tucked in his pocket. She had even gotten used to being naked in the open. It felt sexy, freeing, if not a little chilly now and then.

Somehow, Dean managed to keep his hands off of her the entire day, not even accidentally brushing against her or playing footsie under the table. Nothing stopped him from looking, however, and he spent his quiet time memorizing the curves and movements that he never got to see in the dark. She was perfectly imperfect, just like him.

After dinner, Dean disappeared, leaving Y/N alone to do the dishes and clean up. She’d just about finished putting the utensils away when her page went off, sending jolts of pleasure through her body.

“Fuck.” She turned around, but Dean wasn’t in the room with her. “Dean?”

There was no answer, but the buzzing increased. Y/N dropped to her knees and crawled quickly from the kitchen, wondering where he’d gotten to and hoping the remote didn’t have too long of a range.

“Dean?” she called again to no response, growing more aroused and annoyed as the stunt went on. She’d have to crawl the entire Bunker looking for him if he didn’t answer. Her knees were starting to protest as she toddled up the steps into the War Room, but the pulsing in her cunt took some of the edge off.

“Where the hell are you?”

“Tisk. Tisk.” His voice boomed through the giant room, her toy speeding up as he scolded her. “Mind your manners, missy.”

Still on her hands and knees, Y/N looked around the War Room, unable to find him anywhere. He was a disembodied voice teasing her from another world.

“Dean, come on…”

“You need to crawl to me,” he said loudly, “that was the deal.”

She gasped as he pushed the toy to its limit. “Yeah but...where- fuck- are you?”

Y/N teetered on her knees as Dean laughed at her predicament. She crawled on, moving towards the table.

“Warmer.”

Biting her lip, she listened to his echoing directions, crawling closer to the table. When she reached it, the buzzing subsided enough to catch her breath, and she turned towards the Library archway.

“Colder!”

Y/N spun back and continued through the room. As she neared the stairs, the vibrations increased and Dean guided her home.

“Hot.”

Slowly, she sat back on her feet and looked up the long metal staircase.

Dean waved and grinned smugly from his seat at the chess set on the balcony. “Boiling.”

Y/N’s hands instinctively flew to her hips. “Are you kidding me?”

With a swipe of his finger, Dean upped the pleasure and Y/N fell back down into crawling position.

“Imma kill you.”

Dean laughed. “I don’t think that’s likely.”

One step at a time, Y/N climbed, fingers curling into the ornate grates, knees pushing into the smooth metal. It was cold and hard but she managed, keeping her mind in the gutter, comforted and fueled by the intimate pleasure of her favorite toy, controlled by her favorite asshat.

Dean hid his surprise well when she reached him, figuring Y/N would have given up halfway up the winding staircase. “Welcome,” he teased, lowering the speed. “Nice of you to join me.”

She was panting already, out of breath from her climb. “Nice of you to pick such an easily accessible location.”

Her sass was vibrant and Dean bit his lip, grinning.

“How’s your sweet little cunt doing?” he asked, tip of his tongue pressing between his teeth.

Y/N shivered. “It’s...good.”

“Just good?” His thumb waved over the controls, brushing the toggle back and forth.

“V-very good.”

Dean let her linger in that moment of fluctuating pleasure and sat back, opening his jeans while he watched her twitch. He set the control to a setting called “fireworks” and lay his phone down, taking his cock in his hands instead. He stroked it slowly while the explosions went off inside her pussy.

“What does it feel like?” he asked, lips puckering as he jerked his cock.

Eyes closed and lips shaking, Y/N shook her head, unable to find an answer. “Like...like you’re drumming inside me. Like lightning… like… fuck- I don’t know.” Her eyes popped open and locked on his erection, mouth flooding at the sight.

Dean smirked. “Do you want it?”

She nodded.

“Tell me where.”

She chewed her lip hard, brows furrowing tight, chest heaving. “I…”

Dean fisted his cock, squeezing at the base. “Tell me where you want it.”

“In my pussy,” she begged, chin quivering, near to tears. “Please, Dean. I need you to fuck me so bad.”

“Yeah?”

“Please!”

“Get up here.”

Moaning with relief, Y/N jumped up into his lap, kissing him wildly as his hands locked around her back. She licked into his mouth, bit at his ear, sucked his lip between her teeth. She’d been too crazed all day, too desperate to hold back any longer. She felt his cock against her belly and bounced, rubbing her throbbing clit against his veiny underside.

Dean grunted. His blunt nails dug into her ass.

“Fuck me, Dean.”

Her whisper floated through him and he grabbed her tight, standing up and spinning, dropping her onto the empty chess set. She gasped but settled quickly, wiggling into place on the oversized antique gameboard. He dropped his jeans, letting them collect around the tops of his boots and then reached down to yank the still vibrating toy from her cunt.

Y/N cried out as the toy dislodged, a flood of hot built-up slick running down her ass as it went. “Fuck!”

“I’m getting to it!” Dean huffed back, tossing the toy over his shoulder. It hit the railing and disappeared down below, to be remembered only by a faint buzzing as it danced across the glowing table.

Y/N grabbed hold of the back of his neck and scooted down to the edge of the board, wrapping her legs tight around him. He sank inside without hesitation or restriction, covering himself in her wet flesh, hiding deep inside.

It was fast and hard, the way she came on his cock; her pussy clamping down on him as he thrust in and out. Hours of torture, being played with and edged had left her a sloppy mess, and Dean savored every second. He kissed her breathless, keeping his eyes open so he could watch hers roll. He nipped at her collarbone and rubbed at her clit.

She had been waiting all day, but so had he.

The pawns and bishops rolled inside the table, safe in their velvet cubbies. The pink toy died a slow death, battery draining somewhere around South America.

Above the empty Bunker, not far from the big steel door, Dean made her cum again, rolling her first orgasm into another, his thumb winding around her clit until she screamed at the soreness, slapping him away.

He set his hands beside her head, fingers curling around the edges of the old wood, pulling it close as his hips pushed forward. The thick muscles of his arms strained against his shortsleeves and Y/N pressed her nails deep into his biceps, clawing at him, her teeth grit, eyes dark and exhausted.

“Come on, Dean,” she urged, voice deep and cracking. “Give it to me, please.”

His jaw clenched, sweat beading on his upper lip and brow.

“Cum inside me, Dean. Please.”

Another rough jerk of his hips sent him over. Dean trembled over her, phantom thrusts pushing him even deeper as he emptied into her.

When the best had passed, he looked down with a goofy smile. Green eyes glazed, freckled cheeks bright, lips swollen and red as he laughed, “Checkmate.”

2020 Forever Tags:

@akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @amanda-teaches @because-imma-lady-assface @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @cheritzie @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansotherotherblog @deansgirl215 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @dontshootmespence @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @hannahindie @herbologystudent252 @ilsawasanacrobat @justcallmeasmodeus @ladyjenny19 @laxe-from-outer-space @mariekoukie6661 @missjenniferb @msjava1972 @mylovelydame21 @mysticmaxie @pilaxia @sandlee44 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @squirrelnotsam @tatted-trina6 @typicalweirdbookworm

TWN:

@rebelemilu @pastathighs @deans-baby-momma @bobbie3939 @peachyafshawn @spencer-reids-babygirl @akrasiaev @shadowkat-83 @deangirl7695 @foxyjwls007 @bxbyizzy @chenshemesh1 @pandaxo79

#dean x reader #series #smuttt #fluff #dean winchester x reader

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idreamofplaid · 4 years

Text

Fallen - Chapter 2

Summary: Sam thought he had found happiness, but now his past is back to haunt him. Lucifer has claimed the throne of heaven, and it is his intention that Sam should finally fulfill his destiny as King of Hell.

Characters: Sam x Reader; Dean; Ruby

Word Count: 2621

Warnings: Non Con; Heavy Angst

A/N: This is a series I started some time ago. It has become the first in a project I’ve taken on that I’m calling “Finish the Series”. Each chapter of this one is based on a song. The song for Chapter 2 is “Hallelujah” by Rufus Wainwright.

I’ve heard there was a secret chord that David played, and it pleased the Lord

Reader’s POV

The pain you felt was sharp and stunning in its intensity. In this moment, the love you felt for Sam was tearing you apart. You put your hand over your still unchanged stomach and thought about the baby there, the baby you couldn’t feel yet but already loved. You carried a child that, for now, was yours alone.

You moved your fingers lightly over your abdomen trying hard to process what you had just seen. Could you ever forget how Sam looked with another woman’s hand down the front of his pants? Could you forget how he reacted to what she was doing to him?

A wave of nausea came over you; you sat down, leaned your back against a tree, and hoped it would pass.

Well it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift

Dean had been silent since Sam and Ruby first emerged from the barn. He had been so quiet, crouched next to you in your hiding place, you’d almost forgotten he was there until he held your hair back from your face when you got sick. It was a few minutes before you sat back against the tree again. Dean pulled a black and white bandana from his back pocket and handed it to you. It felt soft and worn in your hand as you gingerly blotted your mouth with it. When you were done, Dean reached in another pocket and pulled out a wrapped peppermint. He held it out to you.

The plastic crinkled in your fingers when you took the little piece of candy. “Do you always carry these?”

“No. Mint settles your stomach. Thought it might help. Your morning sickness has been pretty bad.”

You opened the mint and slipped it into your mouth. The clean sweetness of the candy was welcome on your tongue. “How do you know what mint does, Dean?”

“Researching ingredients for spells, you learn a lot of things.” Dean worked his bottom lip. “Y/N, I know that looked bad. Really bad.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “He just... he wouldn’t turn his back on you. I know it. Sam wouldn’t do that.”

Your eyes glazed over, and your voice came out weak and broken; the sound of the wind blowing through the trees almost drowned out your words. “He did it to you. Because of her.”

Dean covered your hand with his. “That’s different, Y/N. Listen to me. Sam is in love with you. Forever kind of love. I don’t know what that was, but it damn sure wasn’t what it looked like. Sam’s stronger now than he was before. And smarter. There’s nothing she could do to make Sam forget you. Not a damn thing.”

“I wish I could believe that, Dean. Addiction makes you do things you wouldn’t normally do.” You stared hard at the empty candy wrapper in your hand. “I know I threw a fit to come with you, but I don’t want to go in there. I can’t. I can’t see what’s in there.”

Dean let go of your hand. He looked at you, and then dropped his eyes quickly from yours. When he looked back at you, his expression was steady and determined. “I’m going in there to get Sam, and I’m going to kill that bitch...again. So dead, she’s going to stay that way.”

The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Sam’s POV

I wanted Ruby to just stop talking. For the past three weeks, she’d gone on and on about me taking over the reins of hell as the new king and how strong I’d be. Every time she talked about me taking over the throne, it was accompanied by her pawing all over me and pumping me full of more demon blood. Her hands on me brought back all kinds of memories I’d kept buried so deep they couldn’t hurt me. I didn’t know if I could deal with them if I let them come to the surface.

I couldn’t push them aside now. The guilt was the worst. I’d started the apocalypse because I believed her lies. I’d needed her. Not out of choice, but because there wasn’t anything else. Everything is different now, but my body doesn’t know that. I got hard, and she loved it. She enjoyed the fact I couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop it from happening.

She was grinding on me now. “Sam, you’re everything I remember, only better. Aren’t you ready to show me just how much better?”

She closed her hand around my cock and started to stroke. There was evil in her eyes. I should have seen it before. Her hand got faster, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I wasn’t going to come. That, I could control. I refused to give her the satisfaction.

Her hand was pistoning on me, and her expression was filled with malice. She was going to try to wring the orgasm out of me. “You can’t fight me forever, Sam. You are going to give in. This is what you’re meant for.” I clenched my teeth hard. “I won’t let my Lord down, Sam. I will make you into who he wants you to be. I will deliver you to Lucifer strong, ruthless, and ready to be a king.”

I felt a resolution inside me sharper than any I’d felt before. “I’ll never be who you want me to be. Don’t you get it? This isn’t me. The part of me that matters is still in that bunker with Y/N. And you can never have it.”

Ruby’s eyes flashed fury before they went black. “That’s it, Sam. I’m done playing nice.” She flung my still hard dick out of her hand, grabbed a syringe filled with demon blood, jabbed it into my arm, and pushed the plunger down.

I thought I had won, but she pushed my open jeans down my hips. My erection was standing out over the top of my boxer briefs. “You’d better start fucking me, Sam, unless you want to find out all the fun things I can use to fuck that little slut of yours.”

I closed my eyes against the battle raging inside me. Your face was stuck in my head, smiling and beautiful the way I remembered. I reached out and grabbed her waist with my hands. Then I let them fall. I couldn’t do it. She wrapped her hand around the base of my dick and squeezed while she rolled my balls in her other hand. I was so hard it hurt. “No. Don’t.”

“Is that your final answer, Sam?”

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I kept my eyes closed. I wasn’t going to look at her. Any second now, she was going to sink down on me. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry. “Sammy!”

My eyes flew open. “Dean!?”

Dean was pointing a gun at her, his eyes full of rage. “Make one more move on my brother, you hell whore, and I’ll change my mind about killing you fast.”

Dean had been carving devil’s traps into bullets again. He took one shot at Ruby, and she fell to the floor immobilized. The last thing I remember before I blacked out was Dean sinking the demon blade into her.

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof

Reader’s POV

When you walked into Sam’s room, he was sitting on the side of his bed. His shoulders were slumped, and his forearms were propped on his legs. He sat up when he saw you. His expression was strained and his eyes looked tired. You knew his back between his shoulder blades was filled with knots. You’d loosened them up so many times after a hunt, massaging and rubbing your hands over all the tight places until he melted beneath your touch.

The urge to go to him was strong, but the uncertainty was stronger. Dean had explained to you that Sam wouldn’t start withdrawal from the blood for another few hours, but that wasn’t what scared you the most. Sam started to smile when he saw you, then stopped. He bowed his head, and you watched his hair fall over his cheek.

Sam’s voice was quiet. “Will you come closer?” He looked back at you, and you took a deep breath as you searched his eyes. “I won’t touch you. I just...don’t want...to forget how you smell.” He dropped his head again.

You could feel tears stinging the back of your eyes. You took three steps toward him and stopped. “Sam, I...I don’t know who you are.”

He lifted his head. As he talked, tears filled his eyes. “I won’t hurt you, Y/N. I would never hurt you.”

Tears ran down your cheeks. “You did, Sam. I saw you with her, outside the barn. I saw what she did.”

Sam started shaking his head. He was crying now too. “I was faithful to you, Y/N. She wanted me to cheat; she tried to make me cheat, but I didn’t. I let her do that because she threatened you, and I had to keep you safe.”

Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you

You closed the distance between you and stood before him. You brushed the hair back from his face, and Sam looked up at you, tears still in his eyes. “Please believe me, Y/N.”

You’d picked up the habit of wearing layers from Sam and Dean. You slipped out of your over shirt and held it out to Sam. He took it from you, tightening his fingers around it. “I love you, Sam, but until you’re sober; I don’t know what’s true.”

You backed out of the room. Sam watched every step. As soon as the door closed behind you, you collapsed against it.

She tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your throne, and she cut your hair

It had been going on for two days. You hovered outside the door listening to Sam calling your name. He didn’t sound mad, just alone and in pain. Dean had been careful to put Sam in a room far away from yours while he detoxed, but no distance between you could stop you from hearing Sam’s voice in your head.

You were outside the room now, on the floor with your back against the wall, listening to Sam’s cries. Dean came walking down the hall carrying a bottle of Gatorade and a straw. He stopped when he got to where you were sitting. “You okay?”

“Dean, how long is he gonna be like this?” You could hear Sam moaning on the other side of the door. Dean contemplated the bottle in his hand pulling his bottom lip into his mouth and dragging his teeth across it as he released it. “I can’t take much more, Dean.”

Dean gentled his voice. “He doesn’t have as much blood in him as last time. If.... I don’t know, Y/N. I just don’t know.”

Baby, I’ve been here before; I’ve seen this room, and I’ve this floor

Sam’s POV

My mouth was dry and another cramp was twisting through my stomach. My hands were shaking, but I held onto the shirt you gave me. I pressed it against my face and breathed in. It smelled like vanilla and some kind of flower. You. “Y/N. Y/N!” You wouldn’t hear me. If you could, I’d tell you how sorry I am and beg you to forgive me. I’m a junkie again. Regardless of why I did it, it got me here. Without you. I closed my eyes and curled into a ball holding onto all of you I had, your shirt and my memories.

Love is not a victory march; it’s a cold, and it’s a broken hallelujah

Two Months Earlier

I was pulling at your bottom lip, kissing you, wanting you. The taste of you and the sweet sounds you were making filled me up with wanting you. I pushed my tongue deeper into your mouth; you moved under me, and I felt myself get harder. Your skin against mine was warm, soft. Touching you filled me with the promise and the hope that we’d have this always.

You lifted your hips, and I knew you were ready. I pushed into you a little at a time. Your muscles tightened around me, and my breath caught in my throat. You gave yourself to me, and I lost myself in you. I came that night whispering, “I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I opened my eyes to stare at a brick wall in a room that wasn’t mine, in a bed you’d never been in. Your shirt was still in my hands. I brought it to my nose, smelled it again, and closed my eyes willing my dream to be real again.

The Holy Dove was moving too, and every breath we drew was hallelujah

Reader’s POV

You sat in the middle of the bed in Sam’s room with the blankets wrapped around you making a cocoon that was a feeble attempt to block out reality. This room was where you’d known your greatest joy. It was the place where you and Sam had slept in each other’s arms, where you had woken up to his smile, and where he’d first told you he loved you. It was where you had conceived your child.

You ran your hand over his pillow, remembering. It wasn’t hard to picture him there, golden skin against the white sheets. It wasn’t hard to remember the sound of his breathing, steady and peaceful. You saw his hazel eyes every time you closed your own.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You clutched the blankets to your chest, bracing yourself for whatever was about to happen. “Come in.”

Maybe there’s a god above

Dean looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Maybe he hadn’t. “Y/N, I think you should see Sam. He’s too weak now to do anything that could hurt you. We might be losing him.”

“No, Dean, no.” You shook your head, held onto the blankets, and the tears came again.

It’s not a cry you hear at night...it’s a cold, and it’s a broken hallelujah

Nothing could have prepared you for how Sam looked. Helpless wasn’t a word you would have ever used to describe Sam, but that’s how he looked now. You sat down next to him and gently pushed his damp hair off his forehead. His skin was hot to the touch. The fever had made him almost non responsive.

“Y/N?” Sam tried to raise his hand; it fell back down on the bed.

You took his hand in yours. “I’m here, Sam. I’m here.” You stroked your thumb across his cheek in an attempt to comfort him. “Dean, he needs new clothes. Bring me some. Second drawer in his chest on the right side. And bring some water and a washcloth.”

It didn’t take Dean long to return with the things you’d asked for. He helped you undress Sam so you could bathe him. The only sound Sam made was a soft whimper. When he was dressed in fresh clothes, Dean left you alone with him.

You took Sam’s hand in yours again. “Sam, please hear me. Come back to me. I love you, and I need you. We’re going to have a baby, Sam.” You raised his hand to your lips and kissed it. “Come back to us.” You put his hand down by his side, and brushed his hair back from his forehead. One of your tears landed on his cheek. “Sam?”

Everything Forever: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @ledzeppelinsbonzo @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @hella-aj-the-tricksters-son @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @gh0stgurl @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @sea040561 @dawnie1988 @maddiepants @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @iknowwheremytowelis @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @oldfreakything

Sam/Jared Love: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @theychosefamily @winchesterxfamilybusiness @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @i-joined-social-media-finally @wingledsam @autumninavonlea @spnxbsessed @durinsbride @deansyahtzee @wendibird @fantasy-shadows @team-free-will-you-idjiot @waywardnerd67 @neii3n @fullmooner @supernatural-took-me-over @julesthequirky

#fallen #sam angst #sam series #sam x reader #pregnant reader #reader insert

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wayward-mikaelson · 4 years

Text

Don’t Wake Me pt. 4 (Sams POV)

Word Count: 1667

Pairing: None

Characters: Sam, Dean, Rowena, Ghost!Reader

About: Sam learns that Rowena gave Dean the special tea to help him sleep and starts to see him slip deeper into his depressive state. Sam also makes contact with Ghost!Reader who can’t break through the veil all the way.

Warnings: Language, Angst

Trigger Warnings: Depression

*18+ Content. Anyone younger than 18 will need to scroll along. I don’t want to risk my account getting thanosed.

**Please DO NOT copy and paste my work anywhere WITHOUT my permission and WITHOUT giving me the proper credit. I work super hard on my stories and would hate for them to be stolen.

***This work is posted on Instagram, WattPad, and AO3

****Follow my other accounts Instagram, WattPad, Twitter, and AO3

*****DMs are CLOSED for REQUESTS. I need to finish this story and Centuries until I can take on any requests.

Forever Tags: @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @magssteenkamp @hobby27 @elansaidaris @440mxs-wife

Dean/Jensen Tags: @akshi8278 @sandlee44 @squirrelnotsam

Story Tags: @vicmc624 @supernatural-bellawinchester @zug-zwangg

Part Three

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"Hey, Dean, I'm back," I open the bunker door and make my way down the stairs. "Dean?" I set the bags down and look around. Where the hell was he? I check the kitchen because that's where Dean would normally be. But he isn't there. I check the little man cave he made and again, he isn't there. I check the bunker garage to see if maybe he went out and used a different car.

Nope.

Finally, I go to his room and see him laying down, sleeping. I'm about to leave when I see the cup on the ground next to his bed. I pick up the cup and sniff it. "Shit," I roll back and sit down on the floor and stare at my brother.

The lights flicker some and stop.

I get up and pull out my phone and dial Rowena's number.

"Hello, dear," her sing song voice rings in my ear.

"You gave Dean the recipe to make the damn tea," I make my way to the kitchen and place the the cup into the sink. "Why the hell would you do that?"

Rowena sighs into the phone. "To help him dear, he's been through so much. I figured it would help the poor lad."

I rub my face with my free hand. "Well he's back under again. What should I look out for?"

"Again? So soon?" Rowena's voice is surprised. "When I gave him the recipe and spell, I warned him that too much will start to kill him. I figured he told you."

"Well he didn't, Rowena," My hand slams onto the counter and I notice the lights flicker again. "You should have told me before you left."

"I'm sorry, Samuel," Rowena sounds like she regrets.

"It's okay, I'll keep you updated on him." I hang up the phone.

I walk around the bunker seeing more lights just flicker. Something didn't sit well in the pit of my stomach. Only one ghost haunted this bunker and he is long gone. "These lights just don't flicker on their own," I say out loud walking in YNs room. Nothing. Maybe I'm seeing things. As I'm walking out I notice the paper that had some of Rowena's handwriting on it.

Picking it up I say, "Does Dean know?" The light by YNs bed flickers on. "I'll that as a no." A cool breeze brushes passed me and the flickering lights lead me down the hall.

To room 7B.

I open the door and the cool breeze pushes by me. "What's in here?" The lights flicker like crazy. "Okay okay, hold your horses," Then it hits me. I go to the shelf and start pulling boxes down and searching for that Ouija board I bought all those years ago.

Dean gave me shit for keeping it but, you never know when you need to use one.

Like now.

I make my way back to YNs room. I set up the board in the middle of the room and sit with my hands on the little board piece. "Okay," I say taking a deep breath. "YN?" I say her name slowly.

The little piece on the board starts to move without m touching it.

Yes

"Okay," I shake my arms and gingerly place my finger tips on the board piece. "Is it really you?"

The piece moves around on the board quicker than normal. Lucky for YN, I'm fast.

No, dumb ass. It's Santa Claus.

I look up expecting to see some spirit smirking at me. Nothing. "Just had to check." I say rubbing my face. "How are you here?" Even though YN isn't visible I can see her judgey little eyes one me. "You know what never mind, I asked. Um," I rack my brain for the right question. "Are you able to show yourself?" I grab a pen and paper off YNs dresser.

I watch as the piece moves around for a minute. Writing the letter down as it goes. I look down at the paper.

I tried earlier. It's too much for me. I've been trying to get your attention for weeks but nothing happens. Today I have been able to touch things and move them and make the lights flicker. What the fuck is wrong with Dean? Why did you leave him alone? Why did you let that ginger bitch help? Okay I gotta stop. I'm getting too tired.

I set the paper down. "I know. I shouldn't have left him alone. I'm sorry. But he slept real sleep. He didn't wake up crying or screaming. I'm sure you know all this. But Rowena was my last hope."

The lights in the room flicker off and on. YNs mad. I can tell. Not at Dean or me but Rowena. Rowena tried to kill YN a few years ago and YN has been wanting her head on a spike since then.

"Hey, calm down," I raise my hands up. "We can't have you just blowing things up." The lights stop flickering. "Thank you. And yes, Rowena should not have given Dean that tea recipe and spell. I've already talked to her about it."

The piece on the board moves again and I grab the pen and paper.

You should have burned this entire room when Dean was passed out. It would have taken care of the problem. He could have probably moved on without me just hanging around.

"I know, I should have," I whisper. "But I was just respecting his wishes. What are you tied to? Maybe that will help. I'm sure Dean has been able to sense you."

The piece moves slowly.

Locket.

"Where?" I ask but the piece doesn't move. The lights don't even flicker. She must be tired from trying hard to get our attention. "Alright, I can work with that." I shove the paper into my pocket and pack up the board.

I walk out of the room and bump into Dean. "What were you doing in there?" Dean voice is groggy. Then he eyes the ouija board in my hand. "You get anything from that?"

I look down at the board in my hand. I have a split second decision to tell him the truth or lie to him. "No," I find myself saying. "I thought I would try. You know. But I got nothing."

Dean nods his head and runs his hand through his hair. "Figures, She probably walked with arm and arm with her reaper. I mean why would she stay? Why would she run from her reaper when she could be at peace."

"I don't know, Dean," I say softly. "If she were hear it would probably be to see if you move on. She's stubborn like that. Remember?"

Dean smiles small. "That she was. It made sex with her awesome."

"Ugh, Dean," I start to walk away then turn around. Dean is staring at her room. "Rowena told me that she gave your the recipe and spell for the tea. Just be careful with it. She says if you drink too much of it, it will start to kill you."

Dean looks at me.

He doesn't acknowledge me.

He just stares at me with his green eyes that are full of sadness.

***

The next day, I wake up for my morning run. I'm walking down the hall when I hear movement going on in the kitchen. I creep up to the entryway and peek around. I Dean throwing things into a cup. Then I smell the tea he made.

"What do you think you're doing?" I round the corner. "This is three doses in under twenty-four hours. And how did you get the recipe? I took it out of your room."

"Well you shouldn't have," Dean says as he in a firm voice. "and hiding it in a book? Really Sam? That trick is old."

I watch as my big brother opens the cut on his hand and squeezes a few drops into the tea. He takes the cup to the table and pulls out the spell and starts to speak. The lights start to flicker like crazy. I'm guessing YN is in here with us and can't get through.

"Dean, you need to stop," I raise my voice. "YN wouldn't want this. In fact, if YN were here, she'd probably kill you, bring you back, and kill you again."

Dean stops mid latin. "It's the only way I can sleep and dream of her without seeing her bloody body hanging over that chair, Sam." He looks at me and I see a small tear form in the corner of his eye. "I just want to see her and this is the only way I can, without my chest feeling like god fucking damn black hole."

The flickering stops. Dean notices, "We gotta check those lights out," He says as he takes a drink of the tea. Soon his face hits the table top. I decide to leave him there.

The moment I turn around, I stop dead in my tracks. There standing there looking like she's in pain is YN. Her skin is pale and there are dark circles under her eyes. It makes her look like she hasn't seen the sun in ages and that she doesn't sleep at all.

"YN?"

Her glossed over Y/E/C make contact with me and then she disappears just as fast.

I knew what I needed to do.

I pull out my phone and dial Rowena again.

"Yes, Samuel," she picks up on the first ring.

"I need you back here," I walk out of the kitchen.

"Is everything okay with Dean?" her voice perks up. Rowena has always had a soft spot for Dean.

"He drank more tea. That's three in less than twenty-four hours. Then we have YNs ghost around the bunker. She's pissed she hasn't been put to rest and has been watching Dean trying to stop him. But she can't because she can't break through the veil all the way."

Rowena is quiet for a bit. "Okay, I will be there later this afternoon. You owe me big time Samuel. Not just giving me a spell from that wee little spell book again."

"Okay. Fine."

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wonderfulworldofwinchester · 4 years

Text

Hold Me Til Morning

Prompt: “Shh, You’re safe. I won’t let you go.

Jack x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Nightmares, Language

A/N: This is my first Jack fic! Also I recently hit 1.7k followers, and I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful i am for each and every one of you! I am doing a giveaway to celebrate! All the info can be found at the link below :)

Masterlist | Tag List | Ask Me/Feedback | 1.7k Giveaway

Being stuck around the bunker kinda sucks, but I guess that’s the price you pay for being reckless. Damn shapeshifter. At least, the crutches are gone. No more hopping all over the place. You had begged Sam and Dean to let you go with them, even if you just had to sit in the motel room and see no action other than research. Yea, That went over well. About as well as a lead balloon. “Hell no!”

“Why?” You protested, crossing your arms over your chest. Dean stuck his hand out and pushed against your shoulder causing you to step back to regain your balance. Sharp pain shot to your knee as you foot came down, “ah shit!”

He raised his brows and pointed, “That’s why!”. You swore your eyes would bore a hole right through him if you glared any harder. “Look, it sucks. I get it. You’ll be back out there in no time, but it’s just too big a risk right now. Let it heal.”

Sam gave a sympathetic look over his brother’s shoulder, “He’s right. You need to heal up.”

“Ugh. Fine.” You threw yourself down in the chair by the table. “I’ll be here to answer your every beckon like a freaking secretary.”

“Y/N-”

“I know. I know.” You waved them off, “Research is every bit important. Sometimes more important,” Your tone was nothing less than mockery as you sneered out every word. “It saves lives. You’re still on the team.”

A week later, the phone rang for the millionth time, “What now? So help me god, Sam Winchester, if you woke me up to ask some stupid ass question again…”

You could hear Dean’s laughter in the background as well as the bitch face Sam was wearing when he spoke, “Actually, we’re headed home. Be there about noon tomorrow.” He paused for a moment, “And we have someone with us.”

“What? Who?!” You demanded answers, but were met with none.

“We’ll explain when we get there.” The phone called ended with a click, and only added to your racing train of thought.

When the door opened the next day, you damn near competed in the Olympics to get over there to see who the hell they had with them. He was just a boy. Huh? He looked around the room with a child-like wonder. So curious about every little detail, wanting to understand it all, but without any context. His smile was wide and warm when his eyes landed on you, “you must be Y/N!”

Cutting your eyes at the boys you gave a small nod, “Yea. Who are you?”

His voice again carried an innocence to it like a child that almost made it eerie, “I’m Jack.”

Sam stepped forward with what you can only assume was supposed to be a reassuring smile, “Y/N, this is Jack Kline-”

Your head popped back and your eyes went wide, “Certainly, not Kline as in Kelly Kline. As in the Devil’s mistress, and mother of the freaking spawn of Satan.”

“I know right.” Dean chimed in, “That’s what I said.”

Cue the bitch face from Sam, “Look he’s not like his father, and he needs us. Plus, you know, keep ‘em closer and all.”

“Fine, but it’s your ass Winchester. I want it noted, I was not a part of this!”

A small giggle slipped from Jack’s lips as he watched you scold Sam, “You’re funny, “Y/N.”

That was three months ago. It didn’t take long for him to grow on you. For some reason you quickly became his favorite person. He followed you pretty much everywhere, and that’s when Dean had to tell him that bathroom breaks were not a group activity. Which you had to admit was a pretty funny conversation to watch take place.

The first couple weeks, Sam and Dean were somewhat grateful to have him taken off their hands so they could get some work done. Oh how that was turned on them. You and Jack were just like kids running through the bunker after that. Inseparable. He was quite adorable, and just oh so easy to mold. You taught him everything. Well, all the fun stuff.

He was your own personal apprentice, ready and willing to help you prank the boys. He did have some questions to begin with. “Wait, won’t this make Dean mad?”

“Oh, Jack, that’s the point, my dear.” You patted his shoulder gently, “It’s how you show love, Winchester style.” He shrugged and followed you into the elder hunters room trying to stifle a laugh when you attempted to somersault in like a ninja.

Although he was practically joined at the hip with you, there were still some things that you managed to keep hidden. Mostly the scars years of hunting had etched into you. Not the kind that peppered your skin. No, these scars cut deep. The kind that sit and fester in your mind. The ones that either keep you awake at night, or haunt your dreams.

You never let Jack see that side of you. You didn’t let him see the broken pieces that threaten to tear you apart. He needed stability. He needed someone to help him cope with who he was. He certainly didn’t need to be scared off by the crap rolling through your head at night, so you locked your door, and hoped to God that he never heard your cries.

For months that worked, until one night it didn’t. You’d had one hell of a nightmare that left screams ripping from your lungs as you desperately tried to get a grip on reality and drag yourself from the horrors of the dream. Jack heard them from down the hall. Terrified that someone was hurting you, he bolted towards your room. “Y/N!” When he found the door locked, he busted it off the hinges, his eyes glowing a bright golden hue. His eyes fell on your body curled up on the floor by your bed, knees hugged tightly to your chest. “Y/N, Y/N. Are you alright?” You flinched when his hand made contact with your thigh, “Did something hurt you?”

You finally managed to calm your breathing and answer him, “Yes. A long time ago.”

“What do you mean?” He was so adorable with the way his head tilted and brows furrowed when he was confused.

Sitting up , you placed your hand on his cheek, “Jack, I just had a nightmare. It’s okay.” He looked so hurt as his eyes looked over your form, still trying to make sure that you were in fact okay. “I promise, it’s okay.”

“Do you have them often? He asked.

Your eyes fell, to the small space in between you. You decided that honesty is important in this relationship. You owed him that much. “Most nights.”

Jack looked like a puppy that had just been kicked, “I hate seeing you like this!” He was almost borderline angry at this point, “How do I fix it?”

Oh precious lamb. “You don’t, Jack. It’s a part of a hunter’s life. With what we see they don’t go away just because you don’t like them.”

He stayed silent for a while as he processed all this. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “Please don’t shut me out.”

“What?” You placed a hand under his chin, causing his eyes to meet yours. “I never wanted to keep you out. I just didn’t want you to see this side of me. The side that falls apart.”

“No more locked doors.” He held out his pinky waiting on you to promise him. You had jokingly told him that pinky promises were the highest form of deals.

You linked your finger with his, “Okay, but I don’t think I could if I wanted to”, You said looking over at the remnants of your door scattered around the entryway. His eyes apologised for him as they met yours, “It’s okay, Jack. Trust me, it’s not the first or last thing to be broken around here.”

Two nights later, the nightmares were back. This time however, there were no barriers stopping Jack from racing to your side. He was quickly by your side, wiping tears from your cheeks, “Y/N, Y/N, it’s okay.”

Your eyes opened to worry etched on his face as he tried to console you. Without a word, you shifted over in the bed. He slid in next to you, and you rested your head against his chest. Your body was still shaking with the aftershocks of the nightmare. Jack hesitantly placed his arms around you as fresh tears began to fall. The nightmare had been about him. You’d lost him. When he felt his shirt start to dampen, his grip got tighter, “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

You stayed like that for the rest of the night. It was the best sleep you’d gotten in years. And Jack. Jack was content to just hold you and watch over you. He heard you when you said he couldn’t stop them, but he was determined he was damn sure gonna try. Nothing was gonna hurt his Y/N if he had any say in it.

When you didn’t come out for breakfast, Dean wandered down the hall looking for you. It was unusual for you not to be up and about by then. He stopped just outside your room and looked through the open doorway to find you still asleep, curled up into Jack’s side with him stroking your hair. Dean wanted to fight it, but he couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his lips. Even if he wouldn’t approve, he was glad to see you so peaceful.

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mattzerella-sticks · 5 years

Text

In the Mind of a Writer - a Sam-centric coda to 15x04 that has Dean/Cas elements

Sam is tormented with strange dreams again. Being a demon and killing his brother was only the start. It seems night after night his mind plays a new, horrifying concept with him and his brother as the starring leads.

However one night he gets a break, and instead of being a part of the action can sit back and watch. Is it better or worse to not be included in the script? Will he learn anything new from the role of audience member? And just exactly what is the reason for these dreams in the first place?

Sam leans against the hallway, hand splayed across the wall and sliding it while he staggered towards his bedroom. Blinks bleary eyes downwards, he tracks his feet in case one decides to trip the other and send him sprawling to the floor. He stumbles when his hand skipped over a space in the hallway, Sam flailing. If it weren’t luck guiding him towards the door knob he would have fully fallen. Instead, shaken, he squeezes both the knob and the door jamb.

“What did I…” Glancing into the empty room, Sam knows exactly where he is. “ Oh .”

Cas’s room. Or what used to be of it. There’s not even a bed left, pieces remain from the night Dean dismantled it with the help of Jack and Whiskey.

He found him there, screwdriver and drink in hand, barely coherent. “What are you doing?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he drawled, stumbling over to a dresser with no drawers. Smashed to bits around his brother. “Had a totally… totally awesomeidea. Turn this into a gym.”

“A gym?” Sam asked, “Dean, we already have a gym.”

“We do?”

“Yeah… you just never go to it,” Sam frowned, cautiously approaching him, “Dean, are you -”

“Then it’ll be something else,” Dean said, swinging wildly. Narrowly dodging the tip of his screwdriver, Sam jumped a safe distance away. “Maybe a memorial room… Yeah, to r’member those we’ve lost.”

Sam liked the idea. “But here?” he continued, “Dean, this is Ca -”

“Why not here Sam?” Dean asked, surprisingly sober like he flipped a switch. Glared at him with cold, dead eyes nestled in puffy, red skin. “S’not like anyone’s using this room.”

Arguing with Dean like this is like taking tackling a demon without an angel blade. In no mood for it, Sam let him be. The curiosity of what drove his brother to demolish their friend’s room didn’t leave. So he texted Cas.

And texted. Again. And called after the fifth unanswered message.

Finally in his room, Sam checks his phone hoping Cas responded. He’s greeted by the mocking checkmark of a read-receipt on his most recent text. “Seriously,” Sam scowls, dropping his phone onto the nightstand, “why won’t anyone tell me anything .”

Dean loves talking about problems when they aren’t his own. Played nursemaid to distract from his own inability to deal with his trauma. While Sam appreciated it, he knew it wouldn’t last forever. Evidenced by the unhealthy habits Dean uses to bide his time between being a good brother.

The two buckets of greasy chicken Dean wolfed down were obvious clues he was not in his right mind.

“At least it’s not booze,” Sam mutters, pulling the thin henley over his head. After the first few nights of drinking, his brother locked the liquor cabinet and instead chose to stuff his face.

Sam walked in on a rare sight, his brother nursing a wicked hangover. Seeing only a bottle and a half of whiskey drank, his hackles rose. “It’s not like you to be taken down so easily.”

“It’s called aging Sam,” he growled, “Apparently I can’t hold my liquor like I used to…”

He sighs, shaking his head clear of the memories of his brother making coffee with the saddest scowl fixed to his face. Sam needs an empty head when he goes to sleep, refusing to allow his subconscious any foothold to create another horrible dream.

Besides the one where a demon version of himself killed his brother, there were countless dreams he had that ended as miserably. Dean, fueled by Amara’s Mark, chopping his head off. Both of them hunting as the very creatures they fought, tearing into innocent victims with no remorse. Last night Sam ripped Dean’s soul from his body so they could both be killing machines dictated by logic. He woke up after the light died in his brother’s eyes while thanking Sam for ‘fixing’ him.

Sam knows if this continues he might go crazy. In one he already was, haunted by visions of Lucifer while standing over his brother’s lifeless body.

“Not tonight,” Sam promises, slipping under his covers, “It won’t happen tonight.” Voice shaky, Sam doubts he can control what he dreams. Any answer to this problem seems out of reach since the lack of sleep muddles his mind. Crosses wires and makes it harder to think. A good night’s rest might help, but there’s no telling if that might be soon.

Not until he closes his eyes. Which Sam does, since he can’t keep them open any longer.

Unfortunately, he dreams.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Long grass and weeds overgrown the Bunker’s entrance, vines overtaking the stairwell. From his overhead perspective, Sam sees Cas exit his truck. Unlike when he last saw him, his friend wears a black button-down over a t-shirt, torn jeans, and scuffed boots. Scars criss-cross the exposed skin of his forearms where the sleeves rolled up, and a heavy line was carved from his temple to his cheek. It enhanced the rough edges on full display.

Cas doesn’t enter, instead drifting towards the haphazardly parked car nearby. Sam hadn’t recognized it. Dean’s Impala in such a poor condition he couldn’t put two together. With mud-splattered exterior and dented hood, she looked nothing like the pristine Baby he sat in hours earlier. Interior faring no better, Sam saw discarded wrappers, empty bottles with spill stains and even more mud.

Dean would flip if he knew what had happened to her, Sam thought.

Entranced by the sorry excuse for the Winchester chariot Sam nearly missed Cas heading inside. He followed his friend inside, pausing to stare at the unfamiliar wasteland their home became.

Dim lighting didn’t disguise the dump the Bunker was. Similar wrappers to the ones decorating Baby cascaded down the stairs in a trail that stretched into the depths of the Bunker. With each step Cas took Sam’s dread inched closer and closer towards a mountainous peak and he can identify more in the main room. Like the yellowed mattress thrown on top of the world map or pages upon pages of books crumpled and balled in a piles, competing with the wrappers.

Cas searches for something in the mess. Focusing on his features, however, Sam has the sense he looks for some one .

Trickling sounds from nearby, and the closer he follows Cas the louder it becomes. “Dean?” Cas calls into the emptiness, “Dean? Are you there?”

“Right here!”

Standing in the corner, Dean relieves himself. Backside covered by his robe, Sam sees only the thick pale stream pouring onto the floor in a puddle and flooding under his feet. Nausea grips him tight at his brother’s gross display, especially when he grunts near the end. Shaking the final drops free and finishes peeing.

Dean turns and fully reveals himself.

Sam gasps at the sight of his brother, completely unrecognizable had he not answered Cas’s call. His sandy hair looks more flaxen, long enough to curl atop his shoulders. Unkempt like his crumb-covered beard. Dean only wears the robe, nothing on underneath. Obvious by the blase way he walks over with the stained garment open. A calm expression settles across his face like being naked in front of his best friend shouldn’t bother him. Except, knowing his brother, it should.

“Dean,” Cas starts, a darkness settling over his features, “I… I had heard but… seeing it -”

“Seeing what?” Dean asks, skewing his head to the side in an innocent mirror of his friend. Somehow Cas’s stare hardens further.

“What… happened ?”

Sam wants to know the answer - needs to. The more exposure to this version of his brother, the more he notices. Like the softness of his body exposed by the gentle swaying of the robe. Belly round and extended, muscles hidden by extra cushion. More than usual. And all of it is covered in streaks of dirt and grease and other smears he dare not name, like Dean hadn’t showered for an extended period of time. If he could smell, Sam believes it would knock him to the floor.

He keeps ticking off more boxes that raise Sam’s hackles.

Dean thinks longer than necessary before speaking. His eyes flicker slightly as a thought connects, and an easy smile crosses his face while the green dims to a pale, lifeless moss. “You know what happened, Cas,” he says, dragging a chair forward and collapsing in it. Slamming his gross feet onto the map, nudging the bed slightly, he swipes a half-eaten sandwich from the floor and tears into it. While he chews with his mouth open Sam studies his food. An inkling of recognition tickles him. “Chuck did it,” Dean continues, crumbs spraying, “brought back the Leviathan to wipe away his work and then packed up - onto the next universe. And when they came they did with a vengeance… picked up where they left off…”

Sam remembers. Looking at the sandwich he now notices the grey blobs oozing from the sandwich.

“No,” Cas shakes his head, lips trembling, “No, Dean, that… I know it’s been too long but how could this have happened? This… what happened to you ?”

“Shit, Cas what didn’t happen?” Dean chuckles, “You were there for some of it… Dick running for President. Secret service men with all that extra teeth… Sam dying -”

“Sam? Sam’s dead?”

“Yeah, like a while ago…”

His heart beats loudly in his ears, unsure whether from finding out he’s dead in this nightmare or because of the flippant way Dean mentioned his death.

Cas reacts though. Sobs brokenly, shoulders shuddering like they might collapse. In the next second he shoves the sadness down. “How?”

“Like everyone else we knew,” he shrugs, “We stormed a compound, took down a few of the toothy bastards. Tried to free a few of the captive cattle. Sam was helping this woman, fighting her to get her to budge, but she wouldn’t… and that’s when a Leviathan snuck up and ganked him. Blood… everywhere!” Grey drops fly with how wildly he swings the arm holding his sandwich. “I watched the whole thing, man. Like, ten of ‘em piled on and ate him right there. Nothing left when they finished. After all the fat they were probably in the mood for some lean meat.”

If Sam could vomit he would. Already he imagines the scene as Dean described, feels teeth marking his skin and ripping it from his bones. Maybe that’s why he is nothing more than a silent voice among his family.

“And so you gave up?” Cas asks, “Without Sam you couldn’t go on any longer?”

Dean pouts, tapping his sandwich to his chin. Smearing juices against the beard. “Nah,” he says, “It hurt when I saw it, I think? But y’know what I remember more? All the other people who were watching… doing nothing. Sitting like it didn’t matter… because it didn’t . Not caring because they weren’t able to, man… that’s the dream. It’s awesome . The chick Sam was 'saving' ended up drenched in his blood and she didn’t even scream. After that I guess I reconsidered what I wanted and… it’s not that bad being cattle. Eat as much as I want until one day I get eaten? Turns out I’m more okay with it than I first thought…”

“It’s not okay, Dean,” Cas pleads, closes the distance between them and kneels at his side. Lays his hands over Dean’s thigh, digging into the soft flesh. “Humans were made for more than this. You’re more -”

“Sure,” he scoffs, “And what did we do with all that more ? This is exactly what we deserve -”

“You’re not in your right mind.”

“I feel like I’m thinking clearly for the first time ever. And if I’m not who cares ?”

“I do!” Cas screams, “Because knowing what the Leviathan has done to Sam, has done to you … it fills me with so much anger . You should be just as angry as I am.”

“Anger leads to nothing,” Dean tells Cas with nihilistic wisdom, “Everything leads to nothing . Our story’s over, man. Chuck made his ending. Why should we carry on with the plot if the author doesn’t want to?”

Cas’s expression dips into righteous fury. “We continue for the people we care about, for ourselves. I know Sam is gone Dean but there are others you care about right? Who you love? Don’t you care about yourself ?”

“Maybe once,” he says, crumbling the wrapper into a tiny ball and tossing it at Cas’s face. Laughing, he leans back in his seat and stretches. “But the only thing I care about now is that I’m hungry .” Dean stands, ignoring Cas on his way towards the exit.

“Dean!” Cas calls after him, “You need to keep fighting. I… I need you.”

Pausing at the foot of the stairs, Dean cranes his neck to meet Cas’s gaze. Grinning with acted mirth, Dean says, “Needing people is overrated. I thought I needed Sam… Hell, I thought I needed you . I never needed anyone… love? Fake. You don’t love me and I don’t love you. I never have… you were just there. You were there until you weren't, and that's the same for everyone. We’re all trying to fill a void… the Leviathan found how to exactly do that.”

During his speech Cas’s features shattered into heartbreak, Sam being buffeted by the shards from where he watches.

“Want my advice? Hit up Biggerson’s… since you’re human it’ll be fine. Grab a sandwich and move on .” Dean trudges up the stairs to the door, slam echoing after him.

Physically alone, Cas finally crumbles. He curls into a ball on the floor surrounded by Dean’s filth and garbage. Sam shudders, hit with the heavy-handed symbolism. As a tear slips past Cas’s chin Sam feels a tugging from the side.

Cas’s sob sounds far away. When Sam blinks, his friend looks smaller than he did before. He realizes too late that he is being dragged from the Bunker. Sam fights to stay with Cas, to comfort him. To prop him up, encourage him that there’s still hope. Dean can still be saved.

A voice whispers from behind. “No more happy endings…”

Sam leaves the Bunker. Flying higher in the sky he sees Baby swerving lazily on the road, her frame becoming tinier and tinier. When she’s nothing more than a speck of black against grey, his vision whitens.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Sam wakes, gasping against his sheets. Twisting, he sits up and splays his hand across his chest. When his heart beats a hasty rhythm for his fingers, he calms slightly. The more he breathes, the calmer he becomes.

Another nightmare. Dragging his hand across his face, Sam curses the latest hellscape he created for himself. Remembers the broken figures of his brother and best friend. Normally their jagged edges fit together perfectly. Only there, the remains were too incompatible.

They all end the same, tonight’s being no different. Death. Sadness. Hopelessness .

Why his dreams can’t stick to a plot, Sam can’t imagine. If they repeated, after a time Sam could prepare. The spontaneity of their content keeps him on his toes in the worst way possible.

He scratches at his gunshot wound, it irritating him more than usual. Sam yawns and shifts off the bed, moving towards the door.

If he cannot sleep, then he’ll do something else. It’s worked every other time.

Sam doesn’t think about what will happen once he runs out of distractions.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Chuck pushes away from the desk, scrubbing his hands down his face and heaving a tired sigh. Glaring at his work, he forcefully shuts the laptop with a thought. “Don’t know what Becky was talking about,” he growls, standing. Pacing across the workroom from the Roadhouse to the Bunker. “Adding Cas never does anything… can’t drive the story where I need it to go…”

He pauses, considering his story from another angle. “Or maybe she was right?” he asks himself, “The Leviathan… weren’t good?”

As soon as it enters his mind Chuck crushes it into ash. Shaking his head, he grins. “They were good, Chuck,” he says, “with all those teeth… how couldn’t they be? But maybe they’re not final draft material…"

Returning to the desk, Chuck opens the laptop. Knuckles cracked, he begins anew. “The perfect ending is in here somewhere…”

#Supernatural #Spn #Spn15 #Supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #Spn fanfic #Sam Winchester #Chuck Shurley #Leviathan #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic

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my-proof-is-you · 5 years

Text

I Hate You, I Love You - Ch. 14

Summary: It had been over a year since you had hunted with the Winchester brothers. You had felt you couldn’t hide your feelings anymore, so you left. While you were gone, life had been anything but good. When you meet up with the brothers again, you can’t resist staying with them. But your feelings for Dean are far from gone, and you’re afraid the pattern will remain the same. Can you hide what happened to you last year from the boys, or will the past come back to haunt you?

WARNINGS: Rape/Non-Con, mentions of graphic violence, torture

**I do not own the gifs or pics

Masterlist

Dean

Charlie whined outside your room and Dean got up quietly, not wanting to wake you. He slipped on his pants and quietly opened the door, scratching the dog on the head in greeting.

“C’mon, boy,” Dean said, patting his leg. Charlie followed him down the hall and up the stairs to the bunker’s entrance, where Dean let him out to go to the bathroom and run around for a while.

Dean came back down the stairs and into the kitchen, a smile on his face that he couldn’t seem to get rid of. Sam was sitting at the kitchen table and took in Dean’s shirtless body before raising an eyebrow and smirking.

“It’s about damn time,” he said, laughing.

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean said, twisting off the cap of a beer.

“Jerk,” Sam replied. Dean could tell he was happy for him, though.

“Where’s Cas?” Dean asked, wanting to change the subject before his brother made fun of him more.

“He flew out of here to go get us some grub. We figured the two of you may not be up for going anywhere,” Sam explained.

Dean rolled his eyes and heard the flutter of wings behind him as he did. Cas had returned, bags of food in his hands.

“Dean, I am very sorry if I said something I shouldn’t have,” Cas said, setting the bags on the table.

“It’s fine, Cas. You just said what neither of us were brave enough to say.”

Cas smiled. “I’ll never understand the human penchant for lying about feelings.”

“Yeah, well some of us don’t just spit out exactly what we’re thinking 24/7,” Dean said, opening a bag and grabbing a burger.

“Yes, I suppose that can be unsettling to most humans,” he replied. He didn’t eat anything, saying it would just taste like ‘molecules’ anyway, but sat at the table with the brothers all the same.

“Mmm, that smells amazing,” you said, coming around the corner into the kitchen. You were wearing clothes again, but Dean’s mouth nearly watered at the sight of you. You were wearing some short pajama shorts, a tank top, and Dean’s flannel shirt over the top. You looked so cute and sexy that Dean wanted to just grab you and throw you back in bed again.

“Come dig in,” Sam said. He was trying not to laugh at you, and Dean noticed you give him a little shove, a blush creeping up your neck.

God, everything she does is adorable.

The four of you ate and talked for the rest of the night. There was laughter everywhere, and Dean finally felt like everything was right again.

In the back of his mind, though, he knew that good things never lasted for him. It was only a matter of time until something ruined it all. He pushed the thought even further down, though, just wanting to be happy as long as it lasted.

You

You rolled over, getting a face-full of dog hair. You pulled your face back, picking tiny hairs off your lips.

“Really, Charlie? Every morning?” You said groggily. You propped yourself up on your elbow and looked next to you.

Charlie was facing you, and his back was snuggled into Dean, like they were spooning.

“Oh, for the love…” You laid back down, annoyed at your lack of space.

You and Dean had been sleeping in the same bed for the last few nights. Charlie started out every night in his bed you put on the floor. Somehow, though, when you woke in the morning, he had always wedged his way between you and Dean. Sure, it was cute at first, but now he seemed to be snuggling with Dean more and more, and you were starting to get jealous.

Jealous of a damn dog.

You got out of bed and padded your way down the hall with bare feet to the showers. You turned on the water, let it warm up, and stripped down before stepping in. The water felt great, and you stood under the water for a few minutes before you even touched the soap.

“Hi there.”

You jumped a little before turning around to see that Dean had joined you in the shower.

“Hi yourself,” you said, placing your hands on his shoulders and leaning in for a kiss.

“Mmm…” he hummed, his lips still on yours. He deepened the kiss, and you let him. His hands slid down your slick body before cupping your breasts. You could tell that he was taking things slow, like he had promised. Since the first time you slept together, each time after had been just as passionate. It was great, but you were also all about savoring it.

Dean guided you back so you were up against the wall of the shower. He slowly bent down until he was kneeling, kissing your body the entire way. He gently spread your legs apart before putting his mouth on your hot center, causing you to moan.

You grasped onto his hair, your head falling back against the wall. He lapped through your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth. You could feel your orgasm building quickly.

“Dean…” you said breathlessly.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said, his voice sending vibrations through you. “Let me take care of you.”

Seconds later you were coming, Dean continuing to swirl his tongue around your clit until it became sensitive. After a few moments, you lifted his chin so he was looking at you, urging him to stand up.

You switched places with him, pushing him against the shower wall aggressively. He smiled at that, and you knelt down with a smirk on your face.

He was already hard, and you pumped your hand up and down his shaft a few times before taking him into your mouth. He moaned out your name and ran his fingers into your hair.

You took him in your mouth as far as you could, then started moving up and down faster. Dean was gasping above you, his eyes closed with a look of bliss on his face. It wasn’t long before he reached his climax, his legs shaking with the effort.

You stood up and the two of you finally finished your shower, taking your time washing each other and feeling every part of each other’s body.

Forevers: @malfoysqueen14 @divadinag

This Fic: @heyyy-hey-babyyy @mere-mortifer

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #SPN #spn fanfic #spnfandom #SPNFamily #spn imagine #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester/reader #Sam Winchester #castiel #fluff #angst #fanfic #Smut

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holylulusworld · 5 years

Text

Lost hope

Summary: Y/N experienced something awful. Can Dean and she find a way back into a normal life?

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Michael!Dean x Reader (mentioned), Jack Kline, Sam, Castiel

Warnings: angst, sad reader, scared reader, pregnant reader, non-con (mentioned/nothing explicit), fluff (comforting), PTSD (kinda)

"Sam, how could she do something like that? Letting Michael use my body to pleasure her.” Dean snaps at his brother.

Shaking your head in disbelief you start crying, after all you've been through how can he believe you… Running back into the hallways you slip on the floor. Shaking and crying you’re not able to get up. Laying on the floor you let the pain wash over you.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Jack asks panicked. Not able to hear his words you remain silent.

Panicked Jack runs to Sam to drag him to your position. "Sam, Y/N doesn’t answer, she’s crying and lies on the floor.

Running toward you Sam’s stomach drops. You’re still laying on the floor curled into a ball you won’t stop crying.

“Y/N? What happened?”

“How can Dean believe I wanted Michael to do this…to touch me…” You whisper.

“What do you mean? What happened?”

Trying to calm you Sam gently strokes your back. Flinching away you shake your head.

“… that day I needed ‘fresh air’. All those foreign people in our home. Dean missing and you so worried. I just jumped in my car, drove around for a while. When I stopped my car I got out to calm myself down. Looking around I saw a small church. I don’t know why, but I entered it, I sat down and started praying to Chuck, hell even Amara to help us getting Dean back or help us to ban Michael out of him. After a while I lit a candle for Dean and prayed one last time. When I turned around he stood in the hallway."

“Michael?”

“I don’t know why…I guess he heard my prayers…I wanted to run away but my legs didn’t follow my brains order. I felt like my whole body was frozen to the spot. I wanted to say something but my voice ... I couldn't speak.

Crying even harder you can’t form another word. Trying to calm you down Sam holds you tight.

“It’s okay tell me what happened.”

“Before I could run away he grabbed my arm, one second I was in the church and he grabbed me and the other second he was…inside of me…I tried to push him off me, but my body, I couldn’t move a muscle. I wanted to scream but my voice didn’t work either. I silently begged him to stop, prayed that he’s hurting me but he just gave me a cold glare. The last thing I tried was to close my eyes to pretend its Dean but he didn’t let me, he forced me to look into his cold blue eyes while he…” Crying even harder you swallow hard. ”raped me…” You end the sentence.

“Oh my god, Y/N," Sam says shocked.

“After he was finished he tapped my forehead. I woke up in my car, believing it was just a bad dream, a nightmare, but I still could feel him pinning me down…feel him inside of me…his cum was still between my thighs…”

“But why didn’t you say a thing?”

“Castiel, he was the first person I saw after I came back…he knew right away…after reading my mind. He healed me and I told him he needs to hide it from you. You were so worried about Dean, it was my fault. I left the bunker. I wanted Cas to remove the memories but Michael he kinda burned them into my mind…Castiel couldn’t remove them…”

"I'm so sorry," Sam whispers holding you tight against his chest while you can't stop crying.

“…should’ve never left the bunker.”

“Everything is going to be okay.” Sam tries to sooth you.

“No, the worst is I’m pregnant. I’m going to die…just like Kelly.” You whisper.

“We find a way to get that thing out of you.”

“This won’t work and you know it Sam. I’m going to go to my room.”

Slowly getting up you move into your room, laying on the bed you curl into a ball again. Sobbing you try to calm yourself down…but you fail.

“Y/N?” Dean whispers softly and you flinch away. Hearing his voice makes a cold shiver run down your spine. Sitting next to you he tries to touch you but you flinch away, shaking in fear.

“Please don’t touch me.” You plea.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t know … I thought after I said we should end our relationship before I said ‘yes’ you wanted to punish me.”

“By letting Michael rape me?” You say barely audible.

“I…” Failing to find the right words Dean looks at your broken form. He’ll never be able to fix this. Michael was searching his mind and he couldn’t hide his feelings for you.

“My fault he read my memories…he did this to punish me.” He whispers. “Maybe Cas can remove the baby?”

“How?”

“Wait, I can ask him," Dean whispers.

“Y/N?” Castiel asks sensing your pain he dares not to say more. Cursing himself for not being able to remove those painful memories he sits down next to you.

“I lost all hope, so just say it Cas.” You whisper.

“Your and Dean's baby is healthy and grows fast," Castiel says stroking your back gently.

"You mean Michaels," Dean says.

"No, yours, Dean. The baby was conceived before you said ‘yes’ to Michael.”

“It’s not Michael’s?” You ask.

"No, I can assure you, its Dean’s baby.”

“But…when?”

“Cas can you leave us alone?” Dean asks.

“Sure.”

After Castiel left the room Dean sits down next to you. Holding your hand he gently strokes your cheek.

“Remember the night before I said ‘yes’ we fought and then we made love.” He whispers.

“I…oh…” Remaining silent you close your eyes. At least you won’t have Michael’s baby, but after what happened there’s no way to be with Dean again.

“Don’t think we can’t make it. Please, Y/N, we can make it.” Dean begs.

“You don’t want damaged goods…just leave me alone.” You whisper.

“Please, if you leave me I’m going to lose all hope.” He whispers squeezing your hand tight. “We can’t let him win, please.”

“I don’t know how we…where do we go from here?” You ask.

“We don’t lose our hope.”

2 months later...

Cold blue eyes, they are haunting you again. Screaming you sit upright in your bed while Dean tries to calm you down. Worried he strokes your back while you try to find a way to breathe again

“You’re safe. He can’t get in here. Please. You’re safe.” Dean almost chants like a prayer.

“I know…” You stammer not able to form a coherent sentence.

Giving you a cracked smile Dean holds you tight. At least you’re able to let him hold you again. Two months ago you screamed in terror when he tried to get close to you.

“I know…” You say a bit calmer. “You’re here…”

“I’m here. I won’t leave you, you’re safe.” Dean whispers gently stroking your back. Holding tight onto him you finally can breathe again. Calming down you kiss his cheek.

“Can you stay?” You ask and Dean’s eyes widen. You always wanted him to leave.

“Sure. I do anything to make you feel safe." He says excitedly.

Laying back down you feel him spooning you. Daring not to get too close. You know it hurts him too, not being able to touch you like he used to do.

“Can you hold me a bit longer?” You ask, keeping all your strength together to let him hold you.

“Yeah, sure. Wait.” Moving closer he holds you tight and you need to take a deep breath to convince yourself it’s Dean, not the archangel.

Feeling you shaking Dean holds you even tighter. Whispering soothing words in your ear he prays he'll be able to help you get out of this nightmare, a nightmare he caused by saying ‘yes'. The guilt is eating him alive; he barely sleeps, not just as he hears you screaming every night.

Seeing you so scared, not yourself anymore destroys him day by day a bit more.

“Not your fault Dean.” You whisper as if you could read his mind.

“It is my fault. I was not able to stop him; I didn’t even realize what he was doing to you.”

“You said yes to save Sam and Jack. I know I was mad as I was afraid that Michael would do what he did, but it was the only way to save them.”

“But I brought that monster into our world, into your world. He was able to hurt you due to my fault. I’ll never forgive myself for letting this happen.”

"Do you still love me, Dean?" You ask shyly.

“Always. I love you so much it hurts.”

“Then there is still hope.”

“Do you still love me?”

"Yes, of course, I love you. It's just not easy to see your face and…" Sobbing you squeeze his hand.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know Dean, please don’t torture yourself. It was my fault too. Sam warned me to leave the bunker without Castiel or him by my side. I was just so desperate…”

“To find me?”

“I was so sorry I yelled at you instead of telling you I love you and then it was too late, Michael already took over and I couldn’t say I’m sorry.”

“Shhh…you don’t have to be sorry for anything. You were right. Michael ain’t better than Lucifer, maybe even worse.”

Sniffing you turn around to face the man you love with all your heart. Stroking his cheek you lock eyes with him. Warm green orbs look at you. Kissing his lips softly you hit Dean by surprise, sighing he kisses you back.

After breaking the short kiss you move your arms around him to press your body closer to his.

“We can make it Dean. I know we can, we’ve been through so much together, we can make it Dean. We will defeat Michael and those nightmares. We will have a family.”

"I know we can Y/N, I'll do anything you want me to," Dean whispers.

“Just hold me tight. Please just hold me tight.”

“I will always hold you, Y/N...”

Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22 , @curly-haired-disaster, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom , @thewinchesterco , @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl , @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana15, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @onethingthatkeepsmealive, @natura1phenomenon, @flamencodiva

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-thewinchesters, @love-my-not-natural-babies, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @mirandaaustin93, @hawaiianohana15, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen

#dean winchester #dean x reader #SPN #spn fanfic #angst #fluff #implied noncon #michael!dean #Sam Winchester #castiel #Jack Kline #sad reader #pregnant reader #scared reader #mentions of rape #tw: ptsd

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winchest09 · 5 years

Text

Shatter Me - Chapter Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4000

Summary: The Winchesters were your world. After joining their hunter ranks, you quickly became attached to the brothers. After a successful hunt, you insist on going out celebrating with the boys – only for a loose end to catch up with you. You’re trapped in a world without hunger, thirst and the Winchesters. With the brothers beside themselves, they make preparations to say goodbye until Dean starts to connect to you through his dreams. Little do they know that you’re much closer than they think…

Chapter warnings: 18+, Mentions of alcohol, anger, death, grief, upset - i think that’s it.

A/N: I hope you enjoy chapter 3 of this series, i’m really enjoying writing it. Thank you all so much for reading and reblogging.

Please let me know what you think, feedback is my fuel! Comment or reblog, i’ll love you guys forever!

Also any mistakes are my own, please do not repost my work anywhere however reblogs are fine and welcome :)

Shatter Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Let me know what you think!

Chapter Three

It was a long drive back to the bunker, twelve hours in fact. It was a drive that was made in near enough complete silence, only the odd word being exchanged. It took a while for Dean to move after having you in his arms for so long, he purely didn’t want to move because he knew that if he did, it would be to make the arrangements of finally laying you to rest. He would have to let you go. With some gentle encouragement from Sam, Dean picked you up as gently as he could and solemnly walked through the wrecked shop, to his impala. Sam had picked up your belongings, including the snow globe you were intending to buy and followed his brother out.

Dean was in two minds of what to do next as he lay you on the back seat. He didn’t want to cover you up with a sheet, he didn’t want it to be that final. It looked too all the world like you were just sleeping, but he knew different. It was only when the boys hit the motel to grab their belongings, and the rest of yours, that Dean couldn’t take it anymore. He looked in his rear view mirror to see your face, each time he glanced you were there, haunting him. Your death was haunting him, reminding him of the fact he didn’t save you. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel in anger as Sam entered the impala.

As Dean rested his forehead on the cold steering wheel, he felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder. “Dean?” Sam worried

Dean shook his head as he pulled himself upright, a calloused hand running down his face “I can’t do it Sammy. I can’t bury another friend, I can’t let her go. I just can’t” With sullen green eyes, he looked towards Sam, mentally trying to block out the image of you on the back seat from his peripheral vision “I should have known there was another witch”

Sam shook his head gently, knowing too well what would be going through his brother’s head “We can’t think like that Dean”

“Then how am I meant to think Sam?” Dean snapped, the one hand that was still on the steering wheel tightening “I always told her that I had her back, no matter what”

“…and you did! Hell, we both did Dean” Sam interrupted “We couldn’t have known that a witch was going to be running that shop”

“But we should have!” Dean interjected “It’s our job Sammy, we’re hunters, we kill witches”

Silence fell over the Impala with Dean’s words. Exhaling a small puff of air through his nose, Dean’s focus went to the raindrops that had started to drip down his windshield. His mossy green eyes became glassy as he thought of the memories he had with you. He would do anything to see you smile again, hear your laugh. If he knew that being outside that shop was the last time he would ever see you, he would have thrown caution into the wind and kissed you with all the love he had in his soul. He would have stopped, just taken a moment, to memorise those little things about you that made you, you.

Sam watched his brother from the side, worry lines creasing his brow. He knew the regret Dean would be feeling from this. Sam was devastated that you were gone, you were his best friend. The moment he saw you on the floor, his heart grew heavy. When Dean couldn’t find a pulse, he stopped breathing. Even as a hunter, even with everything you’d been through and seen before, you still had an innocence about you. It was one of the reasons the boys wanted to keep you around. Sam smiled slightly, remembering how you would always put a positive spin on things, even if they had their asses handed to them. You would always know what to say.

With that Sam turned back towards his brother and spoke softly “Y/N wouldn’t want us doing this Dean, she wouldn’t want you feeling like this. We both know what she would say to us”

“Yeah” Dean smiled slightly, his eyes still trained on the windshield “Man up Winchester, no chick flick moments. Man, she would throw that quote at me any chance she got” He half chuckled “Either that or she would just kick our asses”

Sam chuckled too, nodding his head “Hey remember that time she caught us being all miserable just after that hunt with the leviathans?”

Dean threw his head back onto the headrest, staring at the roof of his car “Oh man, she tore us a new one”

“Yeah she did” Sam agreed “Remember what she said? ‘You’re the Winchesters, you guys stopped how many apocalypses? The she slid over the bottle of whiskey and said-”

“Take a seat, take a shot and shut the hell up’ She was a force to be reckoned with” Dean quoted you and felt his heart shatter a tiny bit more.

Each memory of you filled Dean with warmth, he had never known a woman like you. There were hunts where he wondered how on earth they had managed to survive before you. As a fresh wave of silence filled the impala, Dean placed his keys into the ignition and ignited Baby’s deep rumble. With one last look at your body on the backseat, Dean put his beloved car into drive and started the journey back to the bunker, his gruff voice uttering “Let’s take her home”

When they got back to the bunker, Dean turned off the impala’s engine and stared at the wall. Sam looked towards him and gave a disheartened small smile before opening the passenger door. The younger brother was about to open the rear door to where you were when Dean stopped him “Don’t Sammy, I’ll do it”

With a brief nod, Sam went on ahead and opened all the doors to make the path to your room easier for his older brother. Dean took a deep breath, his heart pounding. He had to gather himself, he had to be strong, he was always the strong one but he just didn’t know how he was going to face this situation. He had to get you back, somehow.

When he looked upon your face, his eyes stung with fresh tears. You looked peaceful. Like you had fallen asleep on the back seat just as you had many times before. Dean wouldn’t have the heart to wake you, so he would slowly pull you into his arms where you would gently stir just enough to assist him in holding you. But this time was different, you wouldn’t stir, you weren’t stirring. Dean pulled you into his arms and held you close as he carried you down through the bunker to your room. Sam watched on, trying to control his own grief for the sake of his brother. He was worried Dean was going to do something drastic, he needed help. They needed Castiels’ help.

Dean placed you down softly onto your bed, your Y/H/C hair splaying out onto the pillow beneath you. He hovered over you slightly, the smell of your favourite perfume lingering under his nose as he tried to memorise your features. You looked so peaceful. Sitting back onto the side of the bed, Dean took your hand in his, his thumb rubbing the back of yours softly. He was desperate for you to wake up, desperate to know that this wasn’t real, that it was all a sick reality that Gabriel had cooked up. But the more he looked at your still form, the more he realised that this was the true reality, this was real and it devastated him.

Choking back a sob, Dean brought your hand to his plump lips “Y/N you can’t leave us…leave me. Not like this” He whispered, resting his forehead against your hand “We still have so much to do, we need to go on that road trip in baby to the beach like I promised you, you also promised to make me and Sam the best damn pie we’ve ever tasted, you can’t go holding out on me sweetheart” He sniffed, wiping the tears that were currently staining his cheeks. His eyes never left your form, hoping that you could hear him “Y/N please, please just wake up” Dean pleaded, sorrow filling his voice as he leant forward to kiss your forehead, his hand now stroking your hair.

Your room was dimly lit, your bedside lamp being the only lighting when Sam stepped into your doorway. Clear evidence on his face that he too had been crying, mourning over his lost friend. When he and Dean first arrived back to the bunker, he thought it would be best to give Dean some time to grieve over you and giving him space was the best way to do that. An hour later however when Sam hadn’t heard any movement, he grew concerned and come looking for his older brother.

When Sam had approached your door, he saw his brother sitting at your bedside, his hand still in your hair. Softly knocking on the door, the youngest Winchester made his presence known. “Dean” Sam says calmly, making his way to your bedside, placing your bag of belongs at the foot of your bed.

Dean shook his head, a hand going through his hair for the hundredth time that day “How can she be gone? We need to call Cas, he could work something out with heaven or chuck or something to bring her back” He said, hurriedly standing to face Sam.

Sam looked towards his brother, taking in the pain that hid behind his green eyes. “Dean I’ve tried praying but he’s not answering” Half shrugging, he answered. Sam looked down towards you, a tear slipping down his cheek to which he quickly wiped away “Maybe…maybe it’s time we said goodbye, make preparations, it’s what she should want”

Dean looked broken as he shook his head towards his brother. He knew he had to say goodbye but he didn’t want it to be so final, he didn’t want to believe that it was final “Not yet Sammy, not tonight” Dean muttered as he took his place back at your bedside, almost as if to guard you from anything or anyone else.

Sam took note of this, worry bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He shifted his stance slightly, trying hard to not jump to conclusions “Dean, don’t go doing anything stupid”

“Not tonight, Sammy” Dean repeated, not even looking at his brother.

Sam nodded, wearing his concern like a mask “I’ll be in the library if you need me”

With that, Sam left you and Dean alone. Dean gave his brother a side glance as he watched him exit your room before sighing deeply. “Don’t do anything stupid” He muttered under his breath, leaning back in his chair and running both hands down his face. In his eyes, if it meant getting you back, it would be far from stupid.

Glancing around your room, Dean takes note of all of the globes you have collected over the years. Globes from France, Italy, Sweden and Scotland just to name a few. Some you had collected before you had met the boys, some you had purchased online after learning a few tricks of the credit card fraud trade from the boys. A smile made its way to Dean’s lips when he remembered how excited you got when you picked up the last globe from the mail office. It was only now he wished he had actually paid attention to the history and details you were telling him about it.

Looking to the end of the bed, Dean picked up the bag Sam brought in earlier which contained your belongings. He opened the zip and there, right on the top was the snow globe staring at him. Picking it up delicately in his large hands, he let his green eyes roam over it. “I never understood your fascination with these things sweetheart” Dean said quietly, still examining the globe, rotating it in his hand. He had to admit, this globe did have a particular charm about it. The way the glass was made, the delicate features, the little cabin inside surrounded by pine trees. It looked like a little romantic getaway.

Dean stopped rotating and held the globe tight with one hand, standing up to leave your room. He didn’t want to leave you, yet he couldn’t sit there and watch you not move either. With the globe in hand, he left your room and shut the door, making his way to his own room. Turning on his lights, he placed your globe on his nightstand, right next to where he slept. It made him feel like he you were still with him, that a part of you was still there and he found it comforting. However, it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel numb, in fact he didn’t want to feel anything at all.

Reaching underneath his bed, he pulled out a box which held a 50 year old whiskey which you had conveniently acquired after a hunt at a gentlemen’s club. Dean always saved this whiskey for special occasions or for best but right now, he wanted to toast to your memory. As he opened the box and picked up the whiskey, his green orbs fell upon some polaroids you had taken a few months ago. You thought you had lost them but the truth was Dean had pocketed them in secret and hid them inside this box.

He began to pour himself whiskey after whiskey as he went through the photos. There were ones of you and Sam in the library, mid argument over how to organise all the books. Dean took those when you both weren’t looking and found it hilarious. There were photos of him, Sam and Cas that you had taken. Some serious, some not so as they all pulled stupid faces to wind you up. He smiled at that memory, you were so irritated at them but it didn’t last long. Second to last, Dean pulled out a photo of you and him. You had just thrown flour over him, mostly in his face when he was complaining about how you were making a pie. You, of course, found the image of Dean in covered in flour hilarious and you were laughing. One flour hand covering your mouth as you stared at Dean’s non impressed expression. Sam was the one to snap the photo and it was one of your favourite memories. Secretly, it was one of Dean’s too, which is why he swiped the photo when you weren’t looking.

Lastly, there was a photo of just you. No one knew Dean had this photo. It was taken when you went on a run for ice cream over the summer. Dean confiscated the camera from you as you wouldn’t stop taking photos of everything, claiming that it was important to keep these memories forever, no matter what happens. You said that they would tell somebody a story after you’d gone. So when you weren’t paying attention, sat on the bonnet of the impala looking over a lake, Dean spied his opportunity.

You looked so carefree, your hair blowing gently in the breeze, your aviators resting gently on your nose. They were just low enough so you could see that your eyes were closed, basking in the summer rays, a soft smile on your lips. It was Dean’s favourite photo of you. Period. Suddenly a surge of anger coursed through Dean’s veins making him throw his whiskey filled glass against the wall. He cried out, his drunken form falling backwards onto his bed, clutching that photo of you close to his chest. He’d failed you.

Thanks to the alcohol in his system, it wasn’t long till Dean fell into a deep sleep, the thought of you still racing through his mind. Unfortunately, even in his dreams, he couldn’t escape the pain of losing you.

Dean couldn’t understand it but he was back with you on the sidewalk, just outside the shop where you went in for the globe. He watched you as you entered the shop again but he felt like he was paralysed, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak. He needed to stop you, he needed to keep you safe. Internally, he was screaming. Screaming for you to turn around and look at him, he’d tell you that he wanted to buy you the globe, and that he would go in for you. Dean squeezed his eyes tight, willing with all the strength he had to move and go in after you. When he opened his eyes, you were in front of him, leaning over the counter looking at the globe.

He heard how you were asking questions, he watched as the witch noticed your tattoo and how she smiled grimly. “Y/N!” Dean shouted to warn you but it fell on deaf ears, you couldn’t hear him. The eldest Winchester paced forward as he saw the witch place her hand on yours “Sweetheart, no!” He cried, as loud as his voice would let him, his hands reaching out to grab you and pull you into his safe embrace.

It was of no use, he watched the witch take your life away and you collapsed once more in front of him “Y/N!” Dean screamed “Y/N! No!” He lunged forward, wanting to curl you into him, trying in any which way he could to revive you. Just as his hands connected with yours, he fell onto your bed in the bunker, his hands meeting nothing but your soft bed linen. “D, what are you screaming my name for? I’m right here” He heard you. Your voice like a light in his darkness.

Dean had never turned so quickly, his eyes frantically searching until they landed on you just casually strolling through your room, fresh from a shower. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, you were home and safe.

“The w-witch” He stuttered “She-she killed you”

You creased your brow and held a confused stare “Dean, we killed the witches” You stared back at him, towelling your hair “You ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost”

Dean didn’t say anything, his heart hurt with emotion, he felt like it could burst. He wanted to rush to grab you into his arms, to hold you and never let go. However, just as the green eyed Winchester was about to make his move, to show you how much he had missed you, he felt the strongest pull on his soul. It was as if all of his energy was being drained, his power supply was running out and the colour was draining from his existence. He couldn’t breathe.

Dean frantically woke, sweat dripping down his forehead as he sat straight up. His chest heaving with each breath but he couldn’t wait, he saw you. He felt you. “Y/N!” Dean shouted gruffly, trying to get his breath as he was hurriedly getting off his bed. Not caring about any noise that he was making, Dean ran down the hallway to your room and swung your door open, fully expecting to see you there like he did in his dream. However you hadn’t moved, you were still lying motionless on the bed in the exact same position he left you. Dean shook his head as he leant on your door way, panicking. He couldn’t comprehend what was happening, he saw you, and you had spoken to him.

He rushed to your side, his hands not knowing where to touch you, his mind hazy with what he had just seen “Y/N sweetheart, I know you’re in there” Dean says gently, desperation dripping from his words “Come on, wake up for me”

All the commotion Dean was making had caused Sam to stir from his position in the library, his face planted on the table, surrounded by books. Suddenly alert, Sam wasted no time in rushing to your room, to where his brother was. When he looked through your open doorway, he saw his brother leaning over your body, frantically touching and shaking you.

Sam creased his brow in confusion “Dean? What are yo-”

“Sam, she’s alive!” Dean interrupted, whipping his head around to face his brother.

Sam changed his stance, his hands loosely gesturing exasperation “Dean. Come on man”

“I mean it Sammy, go call Cas again or s-something but I know she’s alive. I…I-I saw it, Y/N, standing right in here” Deans tone was sharp and to the point as he turned around to look back at you.

This revelation made Sam stand up straight, taking a few steps closer towards you and his brother, his mind reeling with possibilities “What?! When?!”

“Just, like 5 minutes ago– I was dreaming and”

“Dean” Sam sighed, effectively cutting off Dean’s sentence “I miss her too, I really do but it was just your mind playing tricks on you. You need to get some rest. We’ve got a big day tomorrow”

Dean hung his head, how could his own brother not believe him? “Dammit Sammy, just give me a day, we’ve had less to go on” He pleaded as he stood up straight, his gaze switching between you and Sam “Please”

Sam swallowed hard, he wanted to comfort his brother as best as he could but he knew you couldn’t stay in your room for long. Your body was in the decomposition process and in a few days, it wouldn’t be a sight either of them would want to see. However to appease his brother, he loosely nodded and gestured to the door of your room “Come on Dean, get some sleep, we’ll discuss it fresh in the morning” With that Dean left you, Sam close behind him after closing your bedroom door.

You felt cold, your head felt heavy. With your eyes still closed, you brought your hands up to your forehead, trying to ease the pain that was currently swimming through your brain. Bringing your hands down to your sides, you pushed yourself up and looked around your surroundings, your eyes adjusting to the dim light. The room around you was cold, dark and empty. There were white curtains adorning wide open windows, the walls thick with logs. You looked around to find a stone fireplace, a bathroom and a bedroom with one double bed. You frowned.

“Guys?!” You called out, desperately searching for the Winchester brothers, rubbing your hands up and down your arms to try and preserve some warmth, your breath misty.

When there was no answer, you walked towards the window, moving the white curtains to peer outside. What greeted you, took your breath away. Tall pine trees littered the front yard, snow adorning all of them and they were as far as you could see. There was a gentle snowstorm, white flakes dusting the ground and as you looked up towards the sky, you noticed the twinkling lights of the stars.

You frowned, panic rising within you as you stepped back harshly from the window. You had no idea what was going on or where you were. You swung open the heavy log door before stepping out into the snow, your arms cradling your body as you were still dressed as before.

“Hello?!” You shouted as loud as you possible could, your eyes scanning every direction but there was no reply. It was deadly silent.

Sam paced back to the library, his hand running through his chestnut hair. He was concerned about Dean, about how he was acting. He was just hoping that his brother would be able to get a good night’s sleep so he would wake in the morning with a clearer head.

However, little did Sam know, that Dean was right. You were, in fact, very much alive.

A/N: Dun dun dun...what do you guys think? Let me know HERE! :)

Any feedback would mean the absolute world to me so if you have the time, i’ll love you forever!

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georgialouisea · 6 years

Text

Thank God For A Salt and Burn

Pairing - Dean x Reader, Sam. Word count - 1323 Warnings - Ghost attack, cuddly Dean. Written for - @spnfluffbingo & @spngenrebingo Square filled - Holding Hands & Flannel. SPN Fluff Bingo Masterlist - SPN Genre Bingo Masterlist

Salt and burns had always been your favourite, easy and simple, in and out in less than a few days. Sam had found a salt and burn in a small town in northern California, a woman haunting a Victorian built house, a young family had recently moved in lasted less than a week in the house before the ghost of Lizzie Jones had driven them out to a local hotel. You were more than ready for this hunt, something clean no vampire heads or werewolf guts, just something clean.

“So she’s only really attacking families and women right?” Dean asked stuffing more salt into his duffel bag.

“I would if I was her.” Shrugging you scrolled through the police reports on your laptop.

“What?” Dean looked up at you.

“Her husband cheated on her and had another family while they were married, she will have become more violent and tunnel vision she’ll hate all women and children, it will remind her of her husband’s infidelity.” Closing your laptop you sat up from resting against the headboard, crossing your legs you handed him a knife just out of his reach. “Wouldn’t you?”

“I suppose, you probably shouldn’t come with me then, you should help Sam with the grave.”

Getting up you grabbed your gun from the bedside table, closing the distance between you your hand rested on his chest. “Sweetheart, I don’t dig graves.”

“Fine, come on.”

The house was quiet, nothing looked out of place. Lizzie wasn’t making an appearance anytime soon, it was now just a case of waiting for Sam to salt and burn her bones.

“This place is nice.” Dean flopped down on the couch kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Haunted but nice.”

“Haunted but nice.” Laughing you sat next to him. “That would so sell this place, yeah it’s haunted but nice.”

“Shut up.”

“You do make me laugh, Dean.” Giving his chest a small pat you felt the temperature drop around you. “Dean…”

“I feel it.”

Standing up you scanned the room, there was nothing, no Lizzie. An ice-cold hand wrapped around your throat from behind squeezing hard cutting off your air supply. Dean raised the iron bar in his hands angling to swing so he’d miss you and hit Lizzie, squeezing your eyes shut you waited to be able to breathe again, Lizzie’s grip tightened as something crashed against a wall. Opening your eyes Dean was against the wall his feet dangling as he fought against the invisible force holding him still.

“Whore.” Lizzie spat in your ear her nails piercing your skin. “You ruined my family, you whore.”

“Hey!” Dean growled.

Lizzie looked up at Dean her grip relaxing enough for you to slip out of her grasp. Gasping for air you grabbed the iron bar Dean had dropped, swinging at her she disappeared you heard Dean’s boots hit the floor behind you.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Every light bulb in the room smashed sending you into complete darkness, you could hear Dean moving around his footsteps weren’t the only ones in the room. Before you could even swing the bar again you were flung across the room and straight into the floor length mirror in the hallway.

Your head bounced off the wooden floor, vision blurring as you watched Dean fight to keep Lizzie away from you. Sam needed to burn her and fast. She’d soon had enough of Dean and he was soon pinned back up against a wall before she disappeared out of your limited line of sight, pushing yourself up onto your hands and knees you felt a foot on your back pushing you back to the floor.

“You will pay, you whore.” Lizzie snarled, a blood-curdling scream bounced off the walls as she was engulfed in flames, a kitchen knife embedded itself in the floorboard right next to your head.

“Y/N!” Dean was on his knees next to you, hauling you up against his chest. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just want to go home.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Dean helped you up to your feet, helping you out to the car.

“Where’s your bag?” Dean asked looking around the room.

“Dunno.” Squeezing your eyes closed you lay down on Dean’s bed.

“Found it, what the hell is all over your pyjamas?”

“Coffee, I spilt it over myself this morning.” Propping your head up on his pillow you watched him hold up your once white top.

“Great.” Dean moved towards his own bag pulling out one of his flannels.

“What are you doing now?”

Throwing it at you he pulled his own flannel over his head stripping his jeans off. “Just put it on, are you staying there tonight?”

“Yeah.” Sitting up the room spun, Dean rushed across the room holding you up.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” Dean’s hand cupped your cheek. “You hit your head pretty hard.”

“I’m fine, can you just help me change then we can sleep.”

Dean had helped you change countless times after hunts when you were too injured to move properly, today was no different as he helped you into bed pulling the sheets up around you. He grabbed a blanket off Sam’s empty bed and headed towards the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping on the couch.”

“Why?”

“Because -”

“Come here, please.” Cutting him off you pulled the blankets open for him to get in with you.

It took less than 2 seconds for Dean to throw the blanket back on Sam’s bed and crawl in next to you. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“I feel fine, just come here.” Reaching out for him, his arms wrapped around you pulling you closer to his chest.

“I thought I’d lost you for a second.” Dean sighed kissing your forehead.

“You haven’t, I’m still here.”

“I know, it still hurt.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy Winchester.” Closing your eyes you settled in his arms. “Thank you, for saving me.”

“I didn’t save you, you saved yourself.”

“Stop trying to flatter me.” Yawning your lips rested against his skin.

Dean’s hand ran up and down your back as you drifted off.

“Well, thanks for the check-in,” Sam muttered dropping his duffel on the floor.

“Y/N got hit pretty hard, I was making sure she was okay.”

“Oh yeah, you really look like you’re making sure she’s okay.” Sam scoffed nodding to where you lay with your head resting on Dean’s chest.

“Shut up.”

“You told her you love her yet?”

“Sam.”

“What it’s just a question.”

“Shut up, go shower and sleep.”

The bathroom door opened and closed, the lock clicking before the shower turned on.

“You love me?”

“What?”

“You love me.”

“You heard that huh?”

“Just a little, the important bit, I love you too.” Smiling at him, his lips crashed into yours, pulling away when Sam opened the bathroom door collecting his wash bag and disappearing again.

“Yes, I love you.” He grinned at you.

“You sure you love me and you haven’t got a concussion?”

“Yes, I’m sure you oaf.”

Heading back to the bunker you sat shotgun, your hand slipping into his as it rested on his thigh, fingers intertwining, shifting closer to him you rested your head on his shoulder you hand never leaving his.

Sam didn’t question it, only smiled at you both before going back to reading his book.

“I should have told you months ago.”

“Me too.”

“We could have spent so much more time together.”

“We’ll make up for it, I’m sure we’ve got a few years left in us yet.”

Squeezing Dean’s hand you smiled up at him, for the first time in months you felt truly happy, sat in the front seat of baby in your boyfriend’s flannel and your hand in his, driving home as a couple, a day you thought you’d never see.

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spearywritesstuff · 6 years

Text

Flirting

The slow fall toward humanity confused him. Castiel found himself doing human things in order to cope with the onslaught of feelings as well as the fact that the fall was even happening at all. He wondered what started it, certainly not a conscious choice. He found himself raking his fingers through his hair again, more of that humanity getting to him.

Dean was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and reading on his laptop. There was a pleasant glow about him. With no lead up, Dean asked, "You been working out?"

Castiel paused. He was coming to the table to join Dean, his own mug of coffee streaming up in a welcome cloud toward his face. "I'm an angel. I don't need to work out." But Castiel started wondering if maybe he should begin some sort of routine.

"Huh." Dean looked at him, eyes dragging slowly down Castiel's chest. "Something's different."

Castiel took a seat across from Dean. For a fraction of a second he considered sitting next to him just to feel the warmth of him and the way it always settled into him somewhere deep. "Finding a case?"

Dean closed the lid to the laptop. "Sam's not going to be back for another week at the earliest. We should probably wait."

"So you did find something," Castiel said.

"Maybe, but it's nothing." Dean opened the laptop back up. As he turned it to Castiel he said, "Sounds like a simply haunting. Nothing big."

"It's only a day's drive. We could do that." Castiel sipped his coffee. He thought about what a day's drive would be. The closeness, the possibility of time spent alone in a motel somewhere. It was positively frightening and also not. He gripped the coffee mug tighter.

"You'd have to put up with my snoring. Sam said it's getting worse."

"It won't bother me. After all you'll have to put up with my limited hunting skills."

"You're awesome. Shut up." Dean grinned and fireworks fired off in Castiel's stomach. "You gonna wanna sleep?"

"I don't have to sleep." Castiel looked long and hard into his mug. There could be truth there. He couldn't look at Dean though. All would be revealed if he did that. But for just a moment his mind drifted to possibilities like the motel having only one bed and a small one at that. They'd have to be close just to keep from falling. He'd have to hold onto Dean, and maybe Dean would have to hold on too. But alas, he said he doesn't have to sleep, and that's true.

"So you don't want to sleep. Okay then." Dean tapped a little on the table, his long nimble fingers were mesmerizing. Castiel thought those fingers should play music, strum out doleful, inspiring notes. "You gonna watch me sleep then?"

"Perhaps I should sleep, just to keep you from thinking I'm creepy."

"Nothing creepy about that, Cas." Dean laughed, a light melody that Castiel could listen to forever.

"Where will we stay?" He tried to focus on Dean's face as he spoke. Now that Dean's attention was in the screen, it was safe. The lines at the man's eyes crinkled up with his smile, and this made Castiel want nothing more than to draw closer. Strangely enough he thought that it would be enjoyable to kiss him there, right over those crinkles, right where Dean's happiness was blooming.

"Maybe some place nice." That made Dean look up at Cas then quickly away again, like he was embarrassed or something. "I don't know. Might be fun to stay in a town with a decent restaurant and a hotel with a real bed."

"So we'd go to a real restaurant then?"

"Yeah, that sound like something you'd like?" Dean winked. Well that's new. He went on before Cas could form words. "I mean, might be nice to go somewhere that serves more than just diner food."

"I'd like that," Castiel managed. Dean's was smiling even more now, and Castiel wondered if there was more to say. "So you said you'd like to stay somewhere nice too, a place with a real bed." Castiel made a conscious choice not to make that bed plural. After all, Dean had used the singular too. Castiel wondered if this was flirting. He wondered if it was all just grammar and diction that did Cupid's work.

Dean was staring at his computer again. "Maybe a big king sized bed, something nice and roomy."

"Do hotels usually have multiple king beds in a room? I thought most of them just did that with twin beds or queen beds." Castiel was already feeling the loss of the too tiny bed made for cuddling. He hadn't even considered the fact that he's just made the bed plural, until a beat too late. Now he had to wonder if he'd been cursed, because nothing was going right, and his head felt wrong, and Dean looked worried.

"They usually just have the one bed in that scenario." Dean was really focused on his screen. The article must be complex. Castiel reached over and pulled the computer to him. He could handle the complexity of a well-written article and spare Dean the effort, not that Dean couldn't handle it. He just looked overwhelmed all of a sudden.

The screen was on a hotel site though, and the room on display was a honeymoon suite. "Oh, did..."

"It just looked like a nice hotel. I'm sure they have other rooms." Dean started to reach for the laptop, but Cas eased it out of reach.

Castiel read from the description, "The room is perfect for couples looking to get away from it all. It has everything from a welcome basket containing a bottle of champagne and a collection of locally made dark chocolates, as well as our finest bath products. The luxurious bed will convince you that you never need to leave the room. The room is designed for those seeking a perfect getaway where they can make lasting romantic memories."

Dean reached out and pulled the computer back to him. "The hotel just sounded nice."

Castiel reached across the table and set a firm hand over Dean's wrist. "I'd like to stay at that hotel." He felt bold. He dragged his thumb back and forth just a little. "I want to try that bed and see if it's better than the memory foam bed you got me here."

"There's just the one bed, Cas. Might have to share or," Dean swallowed, "or take turns. I could take the floor for a night."

"We'll be there multiple nights, you think?"

"Maybe. Could be a complicated haunting. Gotta plan for the worst."

Castiel just kept stroking Dean's wrist with his thumb, waiting for Dean to pull away. "We should always be prepared for the worst. This is why you're a great hunter." Castiel smiled up at him past long lashes.

"So it's settled then. We'll book the honeymoon suite." Dean pulled back his hand and fished out his wallet to make the booking. Castiel wanted the contact again. He got up and moved to the seat next to Dean and leaned in close, pretending to read the site. There was nothing to read really, as Dean entered their information.

Dean typed in his name, then got to the space for Castiel's name. He typed in the first name fine then hesitated at the last. "It should be Winchester. That's traditional, I think." Dean blanched, and then typed it into the field.

"Didn't want to presume," Dean muttered.

"We're pretending to be in our honeymoon, right?" Castiel felt his heart beating a static rhythm in his chest, another human thing. Distracting, very distracting.

"Yeah, pretending," Dean said.

"We should share the bed, then too." Castiel sucked in a breath before continuing, "just to keep up the rouse."

"Oh, yes, that makes sense." Dean's voice sounded a little shaky. Castiel leaned into his side a bit more, just to feel him more.

"Do you think the hotel cares if the room is purchased by married couples?"

"Not sure."

Castiel considered more. "What if a couple just wanted to sleep in a really nice bed, but they hadn't gotten married yet? Do they even check on that sort of thing?"

"Like I said before, better to be prepared." Dean finished the registration and closed the lid. "Does it bother you, the pretending?"

"No," Castiel replied quickly. "Does it bother you?"

"No, I just..." He didn't finish explaining.

"Is something bothering you?" Castiel felt worry carving out a spot in his chest.

Dean finally looked at him. They were too close, but Castiel certainly had no intentions of fixing that. Dean licked his lips. Castiel hoped it was because he wanted to use them for some other propose than just talking. It was a vain hope, a human hope. Instead, Dean spoke, "You seem different."

"Different, bad?"

"No, just changed somehow."

"Oh." He didn't want to explain. It was too much when he didn't even really know why it was happening. Dean was warm. Dean was close. He smelled like the soap in the bunker shower. Castiel loved that soap. This was why. Castiel knew it was why, but he didn't want to believe it.

"Talk to me," Dean interrupted the moment.

"I'm falling, slowly. Soon, I'll be human." Castiel looked away.

Dean's hand came up to Cas' chin and made Cas face him. "Are you okay?" He didn't release him.

"I am." And he meant it too. Humanity was frustrating on even it's best days, but it still felt right and good.

"Why now?"

"I don't know," Castiel lied, another human thing.

"Should we try to make it stop? Maybe Rowena..."

"No, I'm happy with the situation. I find myself appreciating things, people, beds, coffee. I appreciated all of that before, but it's better now, more intense." Now Castiel had to look away, and Dean's hand fell.

"Appreciating people huh? What does that mean?"

Cas could hear the slight lift in Dean's tone and looked back to him. He was smiling, close and radiant. "You are," Castiel stopped as he realized what he almost said.

Dean leaned in closer, his breath warm on Castiel's cheek. "I am," Dean encouraged.

Castiel felt the will power slip right out of him. "Aesthetically pleasing."

Dean sucked in a breath. "Was that flirting." Castiel didn't reply, but he didn't move away either. "You flirting with me Cas," Dean repeated.

"Is that what you call this?" Castiel waved a hand between them. Dean smiled even brighter, so Castiel doubled down. "I thought it was more of a rather prolonged courtship."

Dean brushed his lips over Castiel's then said, "One that ends with us in a king sized bed in a honeymoon suite?"

Castiel brushes his lips over Dean's. "Or one that pauses at that stage for a few days only to continue."

"I think I like the sound of that."

"Me too."

Dean reached up and cupped Cas' cheek. "Hey Cas."

"Yes, Dean."

"This mean I get to kiss you whenever I want?"

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't." So Dean leaned in again, and Cas was not disappointed.

#destiel #spn #fanfiction #deancas #first kiss

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winchester-writes · 6 years

Text

I Forgive You

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: mentions of torture, self-loathing, witches are bitches, language

Word Count: 1,846 (unbeta’d all mistakes are my own)

Square Filled: Torture

A/N: Welp guys, I signed up for @spnangstbingo and I couldn’t be happier with the card I got! I have many ideas running around in my head for each one but I hope you enjoy this first one!! Many more to come!!

Lifting your head, blood pooled from your mouth and onto your already blood-stained, ripped jeans. Wrists and ankles rubbed raw with the rusted shackles that were placed there a couple days ago, while your whole body screamed out in agony from all the cuts and bruises that now littered it. You couldn’t let any of that show though. Sam would find you, Sam would show up in time to make it all stop; just had to hold out a little longer.

Watching the careful movements of your tormentor, his body moved with ease as he looked around the table of weapons. Almost as though torturing was his natural-born profession. His fingers skimmed and danced over each weapon trying to decide which one he was going to use next on your body. They suddenly came to a stop over the scalpel. It looked so tiny as he picked it up between his fingers...those calloused fingers you knew all too well. Next came that gravelly voice followed by that beautiful face that would now haunt you forever. A devilish smile forming as his dark green eyes shimmered in what little sunlight there was in the abandoned warehouse as he held the scalpel towards you.

“So, sweetheart, you ready to have some more fun?”

Smirking, you hide the pain and utter fear behind your smartass attitude, “I’m always ready to have fun with you baby.”

Jolting awake, you looked around an all too familiar room; your bedroom. Safely tucked underneath the blankets, you set your hands down to lift yourself up until an excruciating pain shocked your system. Looking down, the red marks around your wrists taunted you, reminding you that everything wasn’t a dream. When did you get from there to here? Did Sam finally show up?

“H-How did I…”

The moment you spoke out loud, the bedroom door opened and Sam’s face lit up. A washcloth and a bowl of water in his hands, “You’re awake!”

“Yeah...how long was I out?” You voice was quiet since your throat felt a little sore.

Sam set everything down before moving your desk chair over to the side of the bed. Leaning back he rubbed his sweaty hands on his pants, “Only about two days, you look a lot better though. I’ve been keeping careful watch over you.”

Reaching out, you grabbed his hand, “Thank you for finding and helping me Sam.”

“I always will Y/N. You’re like my sister, you’re family.” Sam kissed the back of your hand, which caused a small smile to form on your face. Only for it to slightly falter when you thought of the bunker’s other occupant.

“Speaking of which…”

“Y/N, I wouldn’t.” Sam knew exactly what your next question was going to be, “He’s not himself, not after everything that happened. Give him a little time, he’s really beating himself up over this.”

Your brow furrowed, “Then that means Dean needs me now more than ever. He can’t blame himself over this, it wasn’t him, it was that fucking witches fault.”

Sam sighed and ran a hand down his face, “His hands still tortured you. Dean was a wreck when he came to and saw what he had done. The spell...the spell wore off because you were half-dead Y/N. She wanted the both of you to suffer.”

“Exactly Sam, he’s suffering right now and I’m perfectly fine!” Moving your legs over the side of the bed was a mistake because the moment your feet touched the floor you almost fell forward. If it wasn’t for Sam catching you, you would have been on the floor.

“You can’t walk yet Y/N. The shackles were on for too long and the wounds need to heal first. Give it time.” Sam helped you get back in the bed, checking the bandages that were around your ankles, “I’ll go ask him to come in here to talk to you but I’m making no promises. Just...stay in bed.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you nodded. Even though it hurt for you to stand, you still felt like the pain Dean was feeling was much worse. After watching Sam leave the room, you let out a big sigh as your head went to lay back against the pillows, your eyes closing for a moment. Flashes of everything that happened, every tool and weapon marking your skin while your lover grinned malevolently at your pain. Your eyes opened in an instant, willing your brain to not do this, to not be afraid of him when he walks in. It wasn’t really him.

Seconds later you heard a small knock on your door.

“Come in.” You spoke softly, hoping to God that it was Dean. The face that peered through the door though made your shoulders sag.

“I told you Y/N...he’s not gonna come in here.”

It’s been a little over a week and you still haven’t seen Dean around at all. Your ankles had started to heal and because of that, you were now more mobile. Walking to his room now and then to see if he would open up but of course, he wouldn’t. You’d either get complete silence or a gruff go away. Leaving you to sigh and walk back to your room, hoping you’d get him to answer one day.

Letting him sit in his room most of the day to suffer alone was something you could not bear to see happen. Dean Winchester was too good of a man to let the worries of grief and guilt continue to pile up on his shoulders. Especially if it was all because of you. You wanted nothing more than to show him that you were healing and that everything was okay. Mostly, so you could tell him that you didn’t blame him for torturing you. Dean was merely under the effects of a witches curse, he wouldn’t really hurt you all the ways that he did if he was his normal self.

Here it was, 3 o’clock in the morning and all of these thoughts wouldn’t leave you alone, not allowing you to sleep for a couple days now. Well that and the fact that you weren’t laying beside Dean, his warmth and embrace was always a welcome comfort before bed. For some reason, this night, there was a need to get out of your bed and get a drink of the whiskey variety.

Walking towards the kitchen, you stopped abruptly when you heard the sound of the fridge door shutting. One of the boys must have been up and your heart started to quicken at the thought of it being Dean. Rounding the corner, you came face to face with the man you have been trying to see all week.

“Hi Dean…”

He stood there and stared at you for only a second before he was trying to make his way out of the room with his head down. It hurt that he couldn’t even look you in the eyes anymore.

“No. Stop.” You held your hand out, not allowing him to pass through the only exit. “Sit...please…?”

A sigh escaped past his lips as he moved over to the table, eyes still on the ground as his hands went to fidget in his lap. Walking up to Dean, you set a hand on his head, your fingers running through the soft dirty blonde locks and you swore you heard him take in a sharp breath.

“Please talk to me. I miss you, ya know? I want my boyfriend back.” You dryly chuckled, leaning down to try and get his eyes on you.

You didn’t expect him to actually respond, his voice scratchy and rough from not being used as much this past week, “I tortured you Y/N, how is it that you even still consider me your boyfriend? I hurt you to no end, I was hellbent on killing you, almost fucking did. And yet you still want to be with me...why?”

“Because I know it wasn’t really you. Because I knew it was that witch who cast a spell on you to do all that stuff to me. Because I will love you no matter what complications this relationship has to go through which isn’t exactly a normal one and never will be considering what we do.” You sat beside him and wrapped your arm around his, bringing your head to lay on his shoulder, “I don’t want you feeling like this Dean, I hate it and you know I do. I’m getting better and that’s all that should matter.”

Both of his hands came up to wipe down his face, “I can’t...everytime I close my eyes I see you sitting in that chair again, bloody and weak, with my hands still holding every blood soaked weapon. No matter how many times I will myself to try to stop, the knife goes right through you and you end up dying.” He held his hands to his face now, trying to hide his emotions, “Baby, I am so sorry for what I did to you.”

You felt his shoulders start to shake and you moved to sit on your haunches in front of his, taking his hands off his face to show his red and teary eyes, “And I forgive you. Dean I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere any time soon, okay?”

“You don’t understand Y/N!” He stood up and started pacing before turning back towards you, “When the spell wore off. I kept telling myself that I was dreaming and that’d wake up and you’d be in my arms in the bed! But then Sam was there, trying to untie you as I lay there on the ground. I thought the blood on my hands was mine at first but then I got one good look at you and I just knew...everything hit me at once. I was still holding a fucking gun Y/N! Thank God Sam came in when he did!”

You stood there a moment and looked at the man breaking apart in front of you, you wanted to rush up to him and hold him forever. The pain and sorrow that radiated from his body caused your own tears to form in the corners of your eyes. If only there was a way that you could wish everything to be better again, to wish that your life could go back to the way it was before this hunt. Right as you went to speak, he was shaking his head as he moved, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and then heading straight for the door.

“Please don’t leave.” The emotions got the better of you and a small sob escaped, him about to walk out without even trying was hurting ten times worse than when he was torturing you, “We can fix this, don’t give up.”

Dean was stopped in the doorway, his shoulders sagging and his voice as small as yours.

“I’m far too broken Y/N. You can’t fix me, nobody can.”

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idreamofplaid · 4 years

Text

Fallen - Chapter 7

Characters: Sam x Reader; Marie, Solomon, court administrator (OCs)

Word Count: 2764

A/N: This chapter is based on the song “Meet Me on the Battlefield” by SVRCINA

Fallen Masterlist

Reader’s POV

No time for rest...nowhere to run from this

It was by far the most lavish room you had ever seen in person. It was like something out of a movie about a handsome billionaire playboy making his hedonistic way around the world. In other circumstances, this room might have meant luxury or pleasure to you; but not here and not now. Expensive Persian rugs covered the stone floors, artwork fit for a museum covered the walls, and there was a large canopy bed in the center of the room with purple silk drapes that looked like something out of an Elizabethan castle. It was, after all, the bedchamber of a king.

The only thing it represented to you now was the possibility of losing Sam forever. What did it mean that he had agreed to be King of Hell? There was no time to think about that. You needed to take care of him. The way Lucifer tortured him to get him to agree was brutal, but even then he had refused. Sam only agreed when you asked him to because you couldn’t watch Lucifer torture him anymore.

Sam’s upper body was covered with wounds. Lucifer had used the hot poker mostly on his chest and shoulders, but there were also burns on his back and stomach. You helped Sam sit down in one of the velvet upholstered chairs. His breathing was labored, and he grabbed one of the chair arms to steady himself. His brow was covered with the sheen of sweat, and his eyes were partially glazed over from the lingering pain.

You needed to find something to clean Sam up and bandage his injuries. There were two large wooden doors in the room. Hopefully, something would be behind one of them that would be of use. The first door was the entrance to a walk in closet that was bigger than your bedroom back in the bunker. The shelves and racks inside it were filled with clothes, but you couldn’t imagine there was anything in there that would be of help.

The second door proved to be more promising. It led to the en suite bathroom. You headed for the medicine cabinet. There was a bottle of painkillers, and not the kind you got over the counter. That was the only useful thing you found. There wasn’t antiseptic or anything resembling burn ointment. It was probably a safe assumption that the King of Hell wouldn’t need anything like that because no one would be able to hurt him.

You grabbed the bottle of pills, ran a washcloth under some cool water, and returned to Sam. Your fingers tightened around the cloth you were holding when you saw the angry red marks on his body. His head was laid against the back of the chair, and he clutched the arm. You knelt beside him and put the materials you’d found on a nearby table.

“Sam?” You wanted to touch him, but decided maybe it wasn’t the best thing to do right now.

He raised his head and opened his eyes. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

You did take his hand then. “Oh, Sam. You’re the one who’s hurt.”

Sam gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “It doesn’t matter about me.”

“Don’t say that.” You let go of his hand, opened the bottle of pills, and poured one out into your palm. You placed it in Sam’s hand. “Take this.”

He swallowed it dry. “This is all my fault.” You dabbed at his face with the washcloth, afraid to put it on his burns. The last thing you wanted to do was cause him anymore pain. “You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me. I brought you here.” His eyes were full of a pain worse than physical.

You stopped washing his face. “Sam, you didn’t bring me here. None of this is because of you. It’s Lucifer and his crazy obsession about you. I wouldn’t….”

Around the shadows creep

Your words were cut off by a knock at the door. Sam’s eyes caught yours, and he shifted in his chair. There was a flash of uncertainty and maybe fear in his eyes. He was still weak from the ordeal he’d been through. “Stay here, Sam. I’ll get it.”

You walked to the large double doors and opened the one on the right. A striking woman was standing before you. Her presence was such that you were surprised when she dropped a slight curtsy. “My lady, I am here to serve you.”

For a moment, you fumbled for words unsure how to respond. “We’re...there’s nothing you can do for us right now.” You held the door, conscious of Sam and the state he was in at present.

Her demeanor had been so subservient to this point, you were surprised when she pressed the issue. “Perhaps I could just freshen up your linens or offer you some refreshment.”

You faltered. Refreshment? What was she talking about? “It’s not the best time right now. Really, we’re fine.”

She continued. “It will only take a minute, ma’am. It is required of me to do my job.”

For someone who defined her purpose as one of service, she was persistent when you said no. Above the pleasant smile on her face, there was a solid and quietly determined look in her eyes. You opened the door and let her pass.

She started toward the bed, presumably to fluff the pillows or something else she considered important. By the time she got to the center of the room, her attitude had changed. The unknown woman turned to you and spoke with urgency in her voice, “We don’t have much time. They’re watching me.”

You went to Sam and stood by him protectively unsure where this was headed. She noticed your stance and took in Sam’s condition with a sweep of her eyes. “I’m not going to hurt him. I’m here to help you.” The woman moved quickly. She placed two fingers on Sam’s forehead the way you had seen Cas do it. Light glowed from her fingertips, and Sam’s wounds disappeared.

Healed, Sam jumped from the chair, placed his hands on your shoulders, and pulled you behind him. “Who are you? Why are you here?” The strength had returned to his voice.

There was no hesitation on her part. “I believe I’m what you’d call a double agent. I’m a fallen angel; I was formerly known as Mariel, but now my name is Marie. I have no loyalty to hell; they consider me a prize. An angel turned demon? There’s great power there, but I have no intention of turning my back on my angel nature.”

You took a step from behind Sam. “But why? Why do you want to help us?”

“Heaven is in disarray. Hell is a vacuum. Disaster will come of that if something isn’t done.” She looked pointedly at Sam. “Your boyfriend has leadership potential, the kind that could get us out of this mess.”

Just want to lay me down and finally try to get some sleep

After Marie left, you sent Sam to the shower where he could properly clean up. While Sam was showering, you explored the closet. Everything you might ever need was in there along with many things you could never imagine yourself wearing. There was an entire section of expensive gowns, the kind of clothes you saw on red carpets. Queen of Hell. You took a deep breath. You’d think about that later. Right now, you needed to find some clothes that were suitable for sleep.

A few minutes later, Sam emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. You handed him a t-shirt and pajama pants you’d found. Sam dropped the towel and took the sleep clothes from you. You lowered your eyes to his testicles to make sure all of him had been healed from Lucifer’s torture. Sam saw you looking. He cupped your cheed in his hand. “I’m okay, Y/N.”

You reached up and grazed your fingertips over the now healed skin on his chest. Your lip started to tremble, and you fell against him. Sam let go of the clothes he was holding and caught you in his arms. “Sam, how are we going to get out of here?”

He eased his hand into your hair and rested his chin on top of your head. “We’ll think of something, honey. We will.” You closed your eyes to block out where you were and just focused on the way Sam felt. He could still make you feel secure in his arms, hell or not.

Sam kissed the edge of your forehead just beneath your hairline. He broke your embrace long enough to put on the nightclothes you’d found for him, then he wrapped his arm around you again and held you to his side. “Let’s go to bed, okay?”

You lay your head against his chest. “Okay.” Sam kept his arm around you on the walk over to that massive bed. When you got there, he pulled the covers back and settled you in beneath them. It was only a few seconds before you felt his weight dip the mattress and the warmth of his body beside you. You curled into him, and you each found comfort in the closeness of the other while you slept.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remember what we’re fighting for

You woke up the next morning with Sam’s arms still close around you. It was quiet. Normally, that was something that would bring you peace, but now it just unnerved you. You thought about your baby back at the bunker. Would Dean know to buy formula for him now that you weren’t there to give him your milk? Tears flooded your eyes and spilled down your cheeks. How long would it be before you saw him again?

Quietly, you cried until you felt the pad of Sam’s thumb brushing away your tears. “You miss him.” Sam knew you well. “Me too. We’ll get back to him. I promise. Whatever I have to do we’ll get out of here and be with our son again.”

You wanted to be strong for him. Sam needed you too. You weren’t the only one who was separated from your baby, and Sam’s memories of hell had haunted him since the beginning of your relationship. Nightmares were a regular thing for him, and when he’d shared the contents of some of those nightmares with you, it had broken your heart. They were horrible, and you had a feeling Sam had kept the worst of it from you.

With that in mind, you pulled yourself together. “I know, Sam. And...you’re not alone. I’ll help you get us out of here.”

Sam looked at you; his eyes were a pool of amber in green. The expression on his face reminded you of the way he’d looked the first time he told you he loved you.

The moment was interrupted by a voice at the door. “Your Majesty?” The sound was startling and the words were strange. “Your Majesty, the court will be gathering in the throne room in twenty minutes to begin the day’s business.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meet me on the battlefield

Sam was dressed all in black to hold court. The suits in his wardrobe were of the finest quality, just like the dresses that had been chosen for you. He had foregone a tie and left the top two buttons of his shirt open. It could have been easy to focus on how handsome he looked if he wasn’t sitting on the throne of hell.

A smaller chair had been place next to Sam’s for you. It wasn’t nearly so throne like, but it was ornate denoting your rank and importance. You had chosen a wine colored gown that was simply cut and accented with lace. It was important that you play the part of queen and support Sam without drawing too much attention to yourself.

The room was filled with demons, all of them attentive to Sam’s every move. Marie’s was the only familiar face you saw, reminding you just how perilous your current situation was; everything was unknown. So far, Sam hadn’t said anything. One of the demons eventually stepped forward and addressed him, breaking the silence. “Your Majesty, the first petitioner of the day is the Crossroads Demon, Thaddeus. He wishes to plead his case by way of explanation for his declining numbers.”

Everything could stay the same, or we could change it all

When the announced demon entered, you were surprised. You hadn’t known that many crossroads demons, but he went completely against type. There was an air of aristocratic entitlement about him, and maybe that was part of the problem.

Sam flipped through the clipboard filled with reports he had been given and came back to the one on top. He addressed the demon who had been brought before him. “It says here that the number of crossroads deals you finalized in the last quarter was down by 23% from the previous quarter.”

Thaddeus inclined his head toward Sam. It was a show of respect that didn’t appear to have much sincerity behind it. “Sire, if I may? Those numbers do not reflect the quality of the souls I have been acquiring for hell.”

Sam’s gaze was fixed on the demon, and his eyes narrowed. “Quality? What do you mean?.”

“The current emphasis on numbers does not take into account that many of the souls making deals were bound for hell anyway.” Thaddeus paused, and when Sam said nothing; he continued. “The true triumph is in acquiring a soul for hell we would have otherwise lost.”

Sam still didn’t say anything. In this type of situation one of two things could happen. He was definitely thinking; Sam was always thinking. He would either keep his conclusions to himself, which he figured was the wiser thing to do, or his convictions were such that he would make an unwavering proclamation. In this case, it was the latter.

“I don’t see a problem with these numbers. A silence fell over the court. “In fact, I think they should be lower. You should stop making deals altogether.”

The demon’s smooth facade slipped. “Excuse me, sire?”

Sam’s tone was resolute. “I said stop making deals.”

We count the sins again, out tainted history is playing on repeat

A rumble went up in the room, and a wave of shock and confusion spread over the faces of the gathered demons. Near the doors that entered the chamber, a tall demon leaned down to the court administrator and whispered something in his ear. He listened carefully then stood and without addressing Sam announced, “This morning’s audience is over. Everyone please clear the chamber.”

When the room was empty, the mysterious figure who had started this chain of events with his words approached the throne. There was no acknowledgement of Sam’s title; he just started speaking. “I am Ambassador Solomon.”

Sam reached for your hand and took it in his own before replying. “Ambassador?”

The man in front of Sam was almost as tall as he was and broad. He made an imposing figure. “Yes. Lord Lucifer has appointed a Corp of Ambassadors in Heaven. I am the ambassador to hell.” He paused for effect. “That means I am here to oversee your transition to power, Your...Majesty.”

Ambassador Solomon turned in the direction of the court administrator and snapped his fingers. The demon moved instantly to his side. Solomon waved his hand in the air, and a goblet appeared in his outstretched fingers. With his other hand, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a knife. He handed it to the subordinate demon beside him. The court administrator took it and sliced into his arm. Blood poured out, and Solomon caught it in the goblet.

After a substantial amount of blood filled the glass, Solomon walked toward Sam and held the cup aloft. You felt Sam’s fingers tighten over yours. Then the Ambassador extended the goblet toward him, waiting for Sam to take it. You squeezed Sam’s hand and heard him say, “No, I won’t.”

Solomon didn’t falter. “You will because this is what you agreed to.” He cast his eyes in your direction then back to Sam.

Sam released your hand and took the glass from him. He didn’t look at you, but you couldn’t take your eyes from him. You held your breath, and a wave of dread settled over you as you watched Sam lift the chalice to his lips and drink.

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#fallen #sam angst #sam x reader #reader insert #sam series

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