#dean winchester the eldest daughter that you are

[domsaysstuff]

Guys I'm so sorry abt the spn prequel spam but someone on tiktok said it's actually good and I had to do a deep dive on tumblr abt it and now i'm spiraling 😭

[virtu4l-di4ry]

from dean’s perspective “i need you’ is bigger than “i love you”. love is complicated but it’s direct, he could love someone without having them in his life. but need? dean “mr. dependent, guarded walls up so high, emotionally unavailable” winchester needing someone? thats huge. to need means to give them control. to need means i cant do this without you. love comes easy to dean but to genuinely need something and be selfish enough to ask for it? that goes against everything he’s been conditioned into believing.

[angelheartcas]

have i talked about trans dean yet? idc idc im doing it again if i did already.

the moment dean said "my boobs" in response to "is there anything about you that's real?" i knew he was trans. his voice? trans as hell. and the "daddy's little girl" from alastair ?? also he's just SO eldest daughter coded. no one's doing it like him. also i know the 3 layers of clothing is just a Winchester Thing but there's no reason for his jackets to be SO BIG but they are

[athena-xiii]

So I’m rewatching supernatural and the way Dean just shuts down around his dad will never fail to fuck me up.

Dean is the kinda guy who you’d assume has the fight drama response. He’s loud, impulsive, cocky, and brash. He is not any of those things around John. His trauma response is fawn. I know because it’s mine too. Conforming to what someone wants to keep them happy.

You bend yourself any way they ask until you break. Sometimes you’re never able to find your way back to your original shape. Sometimes you’ve been doing since such a young age that there wasn’t time for you to be your own shape before you were moulded.

Dean Winchester was parentified in a way that is usually seen most in eldest daughters. Which is why he resonates with me so much.

God I hate this show it makes me feel so many things

[stay-pos-cos]

And if I say that Dean Winchester is an eldest daughter who inherited her father's anger, then what

[sunflowerius]

sometimes the most eldest daughter character ever is just a severely traumatized man in his twenties. and he WILL become your everything

[aardvaark]

sir that’s my emotional support random middle aged man from a tv show that my mutual blogs about but i’ve never seen outside of gif edits

[vulpinesaint]

sorry but if you have a single younger sibling you're not an eldest child. like chronologically yes you are the oldest of your pair of siblings but it just does not produce the same results. as the eldest of three i have only ever met and bonded with Eldest Children™️ who had at least two little siblings. oldest of two just doesn't hit the same. you're older but not oldest y'know what i'm saying

[emmathompsonegot]

They really just made up a guy whose defining characteristic is Loves Too Much (and is sooo lonely about it), and somehow thought this tv show would only appeal to boys

[sammygender]

unfortunately i am not beating the dean winchester allegations

[bisexualvampires]

happy birthday eldest daughter dean winchester so glad you’re getting kissed stupid by an eldritch being who learned to love from all that you are

[wellofdean]

I wanted to make a separate pose to big up these excellent tags on this post about how a show can be about misogyny when it's about men from @deangirlism101 :

#by virtue of watching the show long after it stopped airing and after years of exposure to the fandom#I've experienced a very interesting phenomenon wherein i went in expecting a very straightforward male fantasy#specifically in regards to dean#and was continuously surprised by how dean was around women who were actual characters and not caricatures#with caricatures of women dean also becomes a caricature of a womanizer#but with woman characters? with victims and friends?#dean is constantly paternal/brotherly#endlessly protective and respectful#in fact dean's utter lack of sexualization of the complex women around him in the first few seasons#kind of had me thinking he might just be straightforward gay#additionally it's interesting to point out that dean is the only one of the three winchesters who does not have a#''symbolic woman'' that drives his narrative#i.e. of the three winchesters he is the one who engages with the women around him as people and not someTHING to give him ''purpose''#which ties pretty well into his own role in his family being a typically femenine one#john endlessly relies on dean to serve the role of his mother yet he resents him when he does it so naturally#which from a queer lense is pretty much spelling out ''john can't put his finger on it but something (queerness) about dean bothers him''#anyways it just surprises me how#the fandom has perpetuated this image of the characters#and how#ironically#that image is the exact caricature dean so obviously puts on and we so obviously are supposed to KNOW he puts on

Some really nice points here, and bang on target:

Dean is not called to his adventure/journey because a symbolic woman dies like John and Sam are; he is put upon it by his father and his own sense of responsibility and love before he has the agency to choose. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love, and he wants not to be alone in a world of monsters...and...is HE a monster? A killer? Is everything his fault?

John resents Dean because what he needs from Dean (obedience, domestic work, emotional labour) is feminine. It's what women are for. Dean internalizes that resentment. Sam defies John and is driven by his own losses, and John can respect that, but Dean becomes the family repository of what they've lost. Dean is the eldest daughter who can never do enough.

John has chosen to abandon normal life and live on the fringes to pursue his revenge quest, and Sam is fighting to get back to the center -- left his family, hot girlfriend, Stanford Law, credit in the straight world, friends. But Dean? He has accepted that he will never be normal. He has accepted that he will always be a lonely, liminal weirdo who knows something terrible about the world that most people are spared from knowing.

Like:

If you leave Supernatural season 1 without realising that everything Dean pretends to be is pretty much the opposite of what he is, then you are not watching it right, full stop. The Dean Winchester he pretends to be is a character invented by a terrified, homeless, wounded little boy who doesn't know how else to protect himself.

Second, if you can't see how totally fucking queer all that is, I CAN'T HELP YOU. And,

you cannot hit that many nails on the head without knowing where you're swinging your hammer, and in conclusion, Dean was always deeply queered, and that was in the DNA of his character.

The truth is, that Dean is a very cohesive character. He is written and performed beautifully, and with intention. He is not an accident, he is an artistic creation, and he is excellently drawn. I am not "giving the writers too much credit", I am taking an Occam's Razor-type view of it, and coming up with the simplest explanation for what I see on the screen.

That said, if by some insane magic trick they managed to make Dean this queer by accident? It doesn't matter what they intended, because THE TEXT IS WHAT IT IS. I don't need the permission of the authors to see a church by daylight, and Dean is THAT OBVIOUS.

[siampie]

Chapter List for Get Off The Highway

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Warnings/tags: Enemies to lovers trope, 18+ contains smut (not sure about that one, never wrote it before), pining, angst, fluff, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome

[Starts season 8] You have been hunting the supernatural for a few years now. You got into it by accident. A camping night gone wrong when you were in college. You had barely escaped but some of your friends had not. And since then, you had despised camping, you were terrified of Wendigos, and you jumped right into the hunting world. In need of help during a vampire case, you turned to fellow hunter; Garth Fitzgerald; and asked for help. He sent it to you in the form of the infamous Winchester brothers. And one seems to have a problem with you. You just can’t figure out why.

List of Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 (Coming soon)

[destielsoulmatebang]

I Swear, I Thought I Dreamed 'Her'

Dean lives in a world with soulmates. Not everyone has them, but those who do are marked with blue smudges on their skin where their soulmate touches them first. His father thinks they're a curse after losing his soulmate, and since gaining his own mark, Dean has hidden it. He's always been fascinated with the idea of his soulmate, but with a life on the road, he doesn't know where to start looking. Dreams of a mystery man start plaguing Dean, on occasion, and he always wonders if they're important. After making a demon deal to save his brother's life, the dreams become more vivid, and he races to find who his soulmate is before his year is up. He finds Jimmy Novak, a married man who looks like the man from his dreams, and he begins to give up. After he dies, though, when he's brought back for some reason or other, his soul mark is replaced with a scarred handprint on his shoulder. Now, he finds out his soulmate is an angel, and he has to figure out where to go from here.

Rating: Mature Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, John Winchester, Bad Parent John Winchester, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Dean Winchester is Saved, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Parental Bobby Singer, Angel Castiel, Canonical Character Death, Major Character Undeath, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Protective Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has Eldest Daughter Syndrome

Coming October 14, brought to you by the @destielsoulmatebang. @nexus-my-beloved, and @witchy-worm!

[yourmomxx]

Father of Mine - Masterlist

dean winchester x daughter!reader

summary: After Sam had left to go to College, Dean dealt with his grief the only way he knew how to - sex. What he didn’t expect was for a One-Night Stand to have certain … consequences. Your mother had died about a year after you were born; car accident. John Winchester, who had made it his mission to keep the knowledge about your existence to himself and as far as possible away from his eldest son, your biological father Dean, decided that he couldn’t just let you get adopted by some random people. The chances of them not being good news and thinking of using you as leverage against Dean were too high. So, he put you in the care of the only people that seemed right for this: The Harvelles. Former hunters, reliable, never could say no to strays. And, most importantly, Sam and especially Dean would never, ever meet them. At least that’s what he thought. Because when the Winchester brothers start to frequently visit the Roadhouse after their father’s death, they discover more secrets about John Winchester than they could ever bear to know.

➷ teaser I ➷ teaser 2 ➷ teaser 3 ✿ playlist

prequels (no specific order)

… coming soon

original story (read first!)

father of mine pt. I pt. II pt. III — All Dean Winchester ever wanted was to protect the people he loved. Sometimes, in order to do that, he had to make hard decisions, Lisa and Ben were the Prime example. Years after making another one of those hard decisions, he has to come back to the place where he had left a piece of his heart - only to be constantly reminded of what he had to sacrifice in order to keep his family safe.

sequels (no specific order)

tough love - Dean snaps and takes his anger out on you, saying some hurtful words

those christmas lights (light up the street) - It’s Jack’s first Christmas, you want to get Dean a special present, and Cas makes terrible eggnog

[dwonfilm]

Come hell or high water. | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 (verging on 6 at this point) would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Supernatural level violence, fluff towards the end.

Mentions: Bobby Singer, Sam Winchester, Crowley, Lucifer

Here’s Part V if you haven’t read.

Part VI:

Dean was bewildered, looking at Bobby with an expression that was all kinds of confused but also verged on the side of hope—though he’d refuse to admit it out loud. “You’re gonna help us.. what’s in it for you?” Sam questioned, just as confused as his brother. “What? I can’t simply want to help out?” Crowley quipped back despite everyone knowing it was a load of crap. That was given away by the expressions of both Winchesters. “Bobby, a word.” Dean spoke with a tone that was unamused but also cracking with bits of desperation. Bobby and the boys walked toward the kitchen, leaving Crowley to muse over the contents of Singer’s living room. Once all three were standing by the kitchen table, the eldest brother began to speak. “What the hell Bobby?!” Dean spoke, dragging his hand along his face. “Listen kid, I ain’t got time to sugarcoat this so I’m just gonna come out and say it. It’s been a year and a half, we’re runnin’ outta options here.” Bobby explained, causing Dean to physically wince and Sam to sigh. “I know it’s not ideal, but boys.. Crowley may be our last hope of getting [Y/N] outta hell. We’ve exhausted all the options..” Bobby was trying to be delicate as he spoke, Dean wincing again. It wasn’t hard to see that he was struggling. Sam spoke this time, seeing that his brother was teetering on the edge of losing it. “How do you know we can trust him, Bobby? He isn’t exactly the Queen of England.” Now it was the older man’s turn to sigh. “Don’t ya’ think I know that? If he crosses us, we gank the son of a bitch.” Singer was exhausted, the bags under his eyes a clear indication of lack of sleep. He’d been the one more often than not researching things, spells, ways to break someone out of hell. [Y/N] was like a daughter in his eyes, he’d made sure she was taken care of more often than not—just like he’d done with Sam and Dean.

“Tick tock ladies! You’re wasting time!” Crowley yelled from the living room, holding one of the family photos from Bobby’s shelf in his hand. It was from a couple years ago—both Sam and Dean, [Y/N] and Bobby. It was a happier memory, all four smiling towards the camera. Sam was the first of the three men in the other room to speak up. “Listen Dean, I think.. I think we do this. Bobby’s right—we don’t have many options left. If he screws us over, we make him pay for it but.. the longer we leave her down there-“ Dean’s eyes snapped up to Sam’s and the younger of the two immediately stopped talking. “You don’t think I know that?! You don’t think I’ve been kept awake at night thinking about what he’s doing to her.. what he’s making her do? I know first hand, okay. I just-..” Dean interrupts himself and it’s apparent he’s about to breakdown. “Listen boy, this may be the last shot we’ve got to bring her home.” Bobby spoke solemnly as he put his hand on Dean’s face. They stood there for a moment before the elder Winchester sighed. “Okay.” He said, looking at the floor and trying to keep any semblance of composure. “Okay.” Sam repeated. All three men stood there for a moment, mostly so Dean could pull himself together. It had been about five minutes before all three of the men filed back into the living room. Crowley was now seated on the couch, legs crossed and looking utterly bored. “Oh look, did the Brady Bunch finally come to a decision?” He asked, his accent strong on each word. Sam rolled his eyes and Dean just glared at the King of Hell. “What do you want—for helping us get her out?” Sam inquired, knowing there was something that Crowley wanted or needed from them. Before Crowley could speak, Sam added another part to his statement. “Tell the truth this time, we don’t have time to waste.” Crowley couldn’t help but to chuckle, his gaze moving towards all three of the men.

“Right now? Nothing. However in the future I’ll need assistance and who better to have an I.O.U. with than the bloody Winchesters?” He laughed again, and this brought a sense of unease between the brothers and Bobby too. “Vague. Of course.” Dean spoke, irritation bubbling in his tone. “Listen if you want to leave the broad to rot then by all means!” Crowley bit back and this caught Dean off guard. He tried to let the angry side be the side that came to the forefront but it wasn’t. Instead the sad part of him was what showed itself. “Don’t. Don’t you talk about her like that.” Dean’s voice was shaky, the emotion clear in his voice despite the attempt to conceal it. Sam shifted awkwardly on his feet, trying to move it along. “So—how are you gonna bust her out?” He asked, unsure if they needed to play a part in whatever was about to happen. Crowley stood up, straightening his black jacket. “Well, since it was an odd little kidnapping and she didn’t have to technically die.. there’s no need to dig up a body. Did you lot make some kind of grave for her regardless?” Crowley inquired, mostly looking at the elder Winchester. “I did. Why? What could you need from that?” Dean asked, not thrilled with her place being exposed to just anyone. “I don’t need anything sunshine. That’s where you’ll find her when I’m done. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a bird to free from a cage.” Once Crowley had finished his sentence, he vanished. Dean sighed, throwing his gun onto Bobby’s coffee table. “I’m gonna go to.. her place. I don’t know how long this little trip of his is gonna take but I need to just.. be alone. I’ll wait there.” Dean spoke, his eyes gazing down at the worn out wooden floor. “Alright. Take your gun, take one of those blades just in case. We don’t know whether that slimy bastard was telling the truth.” Bobby replied, leaving the room and heading towards the kitchen again. “Dean, I really think that I should go with you-“ Sam began. “No. Sammy, I know you’re worried about me. I know. I’ve just gotta clear my head. I’ll take my phone, my gun, the blade—everything. I’ll be okay.” Dean spoke, trying to reassure his younger brother. Sam wasn’t convinced but he knew better than to keep pushing. “Okay.” He replied, looking at his older brother with sympathy.

Meanwhile in hell..

[Y/N] wasn’t sure how long she’d been here, time simply didn’t exist in this place. She was exhausted, her body aching and loaded with scars. Lucifer knew exactly how to get to her, which wasn’t rocket science—for whatever timeframe she’d been imprisoned for, she was living the same few scenarios repeatedly. Right now, it was probably her least favorite one. She was in the woods, running, trying to move as fast as she could. Running as if her life depended on it. Because it did. It wasn’t exactly dark but it wasn’t light either, probably around sunset time. She couldn’t stop running even if she wanted to, because rational thought didn’t exist here. [Y/N] didn’t know she was in hell during these scenes of Lucifer’s crafting. All she knew was that these situations felt completely real. Every time. Occasionally she turned her head to look behind her, to see if what she was being chased by was still following her. Finally her feet stopped and suddenly they’d felt like they were cemented to the ground. [Y/N]’s lungs were burning and she wasn’t sure how long she’d been running. It felt like her bones had become cinder blocks and she was finding it difficult to even stand. Suddenly a twig snapped and she turned quickly to look in the direction it came from, but, then another snapped and it was in a complete opposite direction. “Well, well, well. Look who finally stopped running.” Her eyes went wide, watching as the entity that the voice belonged to emerged from the bushes. “Dean?” [Y/N] questioned, shock written on her face. “In the flesh sweetheart.” He replied, but something was.. off. She knew in her gut that something was wrong, from the tone of voice Dean was using and the way he was moving. “How did you know I was running? I mean, besides the obvious.. how did you know I’d be here?” She asked, though the pit forming in her stomach was giving her answer she didn’t like. “Oh, you don’t know?” He asked, everything about his tone sending uneasy chills throughout her body. “What? Dean, you’re scaring me. What’s going on..?” She questioned. Every instinct was telling her to run away, but in her heart she wanted to believe this was a mistake. [Y/N] wanted to believe that she was just scared from whatever was chasing after her and that was making her see things that weren’t there.

“What’s going on?” He asked, his green eyes dark and unreadable. He laughed dryly and she felt her hair stand up on end. “Dean..” she spoke, her [Y/E/C] eyes scanning his face for any sign of the man she knew and loved. He remained silent but took a step towards her, which caused her to step backwards. It was at this point that her heart began thumping against her chest. [Y/N] turned to walk away, but a hand firmly gripped her arm and stopped her in her tracks. “Where did you think you were going [Y/N/N]?” He asked, with the grip that he had on her arm getting firmer. She tried to pull her arm away from Dean, but that only made him hang on tighter. “I just.. ow, Dean you’re hurting me. Please.” She tried again to free herself but it just wouldn’t work. “Now now sweetheart, you’re tough. You can handle it.” Now she felt ill. There was no way this was her Dean, she didn’t know who this was or what this was but it wasn’t him. “What are you? You’re not Dean.” She stated plainly, her arm stinging with the pain of the hand holding it. “I’m not? That’s funny, been Dean all my life. My life that’s been dragged down by weak people.” Despite the fact that she could tell something was wrong, [Y/N] felt the sting of his words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She spoke, the tone of her voice betraying the strong front she was trying to keep. “Oh, I think you do. I can hear it in your voice. You know what a burden you’ve been to me.” Dean’s voice was stern, cold—she couldn’t deny that the words were getting to her heart. “I don’t know who you are, but this isn’t gonna work on me.” She replied, unable to keep her voice from breaking this time. “It doesn’t matter what your heart or your brain is trying to tell you. This is me, matter of fact this is me finally getting things off my chest. Look at me.” He demanded, despite her avoiding his gaze at all costs. If she looked into his eyes she knew she’d break down. This angered Dean and so he grabbed her face with his free hand and turned it toward him—just as she’d known would happen, tears welled up at the bottom of her eyes. “Oh, wow, look here! [Y/N] is crying. Again.” She cringed, he was so cold and she knew that something had to be wrong. There was no way he’d ever talk to her like this let alone grabbing her in this manner. She didn’t say anything, she couldn’t. It was like she was living in some alternate reality. “Now you’ve got nothing to say hm? C’mon [Y/N/N] you never stopped running your trap any other time. Matter of fact I can’t think of a single time you’ve been lost for words.” He spat, which would’ve caused [Y/N] to recoil into her shell if he didn’t have his grip on her.

“You know, I had enough on my plate trying to babysit Sam. That’s my family. That’s my flesh and blood. You? Well, all you were was a good lay. I knew you’d have a hole in your heart after your old man kicked the bucket. I’ve never loved you, [Y/N]. I pitied you.” Dean spoke and that was the line that broke any resolve she had left. Sobs broke the silence from [Y/N] and this brought a cold laugh from Dean’s lips. “You’re pathetic. I don’t know how I’ve stomached you and your bullshit for so long.” He continued, she couldn’t speak. Not one thing could’ve ever pointed to this happening, at least not in her eyes. All she could do was sob. Now her chest was aching for an entirely different reason than before. Finally, Dean released his grip on both her face and her arm, but she didn’t run. She couldn’t. Another dry laugh was pulled from the man that stood in front of her and she just felt herself shrinking. “Luckily, all of my struggles end today.” He spoke, which obviously caught her attention. [Y/N] was trying so hard to speak, but it didn’t matter. Dean had turned around and buried an angel blade deep in her chest. [Y/E/C] eyes widened as they gazed into the green ones they’d once happily get lost within. There was no love to be found in Dean’s gaze, only disdain. However it wasn’t finished there—in an action of true hatred, the man she once called the love of her life was twisting the blade. This was it—she was dying today. If there was any hope in her, it was snuffed out when Dean had pulled the blade back out of her chest. Cool silver drenched in her blood, blood which was gushing from the open wound. “Goodbye [Y/N.]” He said, shoving her to the ground where she’d land on her back. Deep crimson quickly staining the dirt. She looked up at the sky, slowly blinking. As a hunter it was almost a guarantee that violent death was the way you’d go. She just never thought that violence would come from the most important person in her world.

“[Y/N]!” She heard someone calling her name, but she couldn’t move. “[Y/N]!” Again a voice was yelling her name, they sounded so far away and yet so close at the same time. Now her breathing was becoming shallow and she knew that her last few moments were winding down. “Goddammit wake the hell up [Y/N]!” She gasped. Eyes opening to see a bunch of stone around her—so she rubbed her eyes before blinking furiously. “Well good morning sunshine, so glad you could finish your bloody nap.” Crowley spoke, which had [Y/N] scrunch her nose up. “C-..Crowley? What.. what do you want-“ She attempted to ask but she was cut off almost immediately. “Listen we don’t have the time for this ‘explain yourself’ shit okay? We’ve gotta go.” Crowley spoke, sticking a key into a weird looking gate and walking inside. If he had any sense of morality, he’d feel bad for finding her in such shape. Bags under her eyes, scars over her body. “Get up, sunshine. We’ve got places to be.” He spoke, grabbing onto her arm and disappearing from the corner of hell.

[Y/N]’s “place” (grave).

Dean had been sitting there for a couple of hours. Just staring at the wooden ‘headstone’ he’d made for [Y/N] when Sam had suggested it would be good to have a place that she could rest. Of course, the difficult part of that—if you could call it difficult, was that there was no dead body. It felt a little silly at times, making things for a grave that didn’t even hold the woman he loved. Sam was right though, as much as he’d hate to admit it. It had become a place for Dean to find an odd sense of normalcy. It became a place where he could break down and get drunk and just.. miss her. While it was true that Dean did the drinking and the missing her whenever he went, it just felt better when he was here—for lack of a sensible term. It was here that he found a connection to her, he felt her presence surrounding him here somehow. Saddened and tired green eyes had been staring at the ‘grave’. Dean had decided to bury one outfit he deemed pretty enough to spend the rest of time wearing. Alongside that he’d handwritten a letter for [Y/N] that no one else had ever seen, so he placed that underneath the dress when he’d buried the makeshift coffin. “Please.. I need this to work. I just.. I can’t go on living without you, [Y/N/N]. Man I want to trust this but we’ve been through so much, we’ve tried so much to get you back. Sam and Bobby think this may be our last hope of saving you, sweetheart. I can’t face a world where it’s hopeless, I can’t believe in doing good for anyone when the best thing was stolen from this world.” He’d done a good job up until this moment of not crying. Everyone that knew Dean for all of five minutes knew or could tell he wasn’t one for crying. It was a sign of weakness, that’s what he was always taught. Emotions were never something he felt fully, always trying to shove them down and lock them up. It was something [Y/N] had helped him with in their relationship.

It was at that moment that a weird noise caught Dean’s attention. He blinked several times to rid his eyes of the excess tears and tried to remain on high alert. No one except for Sam and Bobby knew where this place was but that wasn’t enough. Everything that they’ve fought, the things they come up against, they had their ways of getting information. Again he heard something and so he slowly drew his weapon. No one would invade her space—no one. Realization finally hit and he put his gun down, running over to the grave and beginning to dig with his hands. “[Y/N]!” Dean yelled, feeling anxiety building up inside of him. He was throwing dirt like a madman, trying to get to her. Suddenly there was a hole and Dean could hear coughing. “Baby! Baby.. I got you.” He replied, words flying out a mile a minute. Now his digging was redirected to where the hole began, hands coming up from the dirt. Once the opening was big enough Dean abandoned the digging and grabbed onto her arms. “Hang on I’ve got you, [Y/N/N].” He said, pulling while she was pushing and once her head broke through the dirt she inhaled deeply. It took about a minute more, but finally he was able to pull her entirely free from the grave. [Y/N] took several deep breaths, Dean gave her the space to come to the realization that she was alive. Slowly but surely, she began to blink and rub at her eyes. Once she felt she was seeing clearly, her eyes settled on Dean. He was nervous and didn’t want to spook her or move too fast. She tried to speak but all that came out was a squeak. About to try again, Dean decided to soothe her and take a step closer. “Hey, baby.. hi it’s okay. That uh, that happened to me too. It was hard to speak at first but it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” He was speaking softly. Tears were brimming her eyes as she finally started to realize what happened.

“Dean..” she croaked, voice still strained but not as badly as it was before. Now it was his turn to feel the tears welling up in his eyes. “Hi, sweetheart.” He spoke, taking another step towards where she was sitting in the dirt. “Am I..?” She asked, voice again straining. He took the opportunity to close the space between them, sitting in front of her on the ground. Green hues danced along every feature on her face, giving her the same butterflies she’d always had. Dean breathed softly, using his hand to gently tuck some of your tangled [Y/H/C] hair behind your ear. “You’re alive, baby. You’re here where you belong.” His voice was cracking due to the emotion he was feeling. Dean continued to stare into those [Y/E/C] eyes and every heartache he’d felt over the last year and a half seemed to vanish. “..tell me something only you’d know.” [Y/N] said, still fixated upon his beautiful green eyes. “Wha-“ Dean paused. There was a pit in the bottom of his stomach because he thought he knew why she was asking. It would hurt but he needed to know if his suspicions were right. “Lucifer made this one of the scenes in your head, didn’t he?” He asked, knowing that more than anything the devil himself loved a good psychological torture method. Slowly her gaze sunk to the dirt and that felt like a knife to his own heart. He figured Lucifer would use him to fuck with [Y/N] but hearing it.. he felt so heartbroken. “You have a little freckle on your hip bone, you love to sing in the shower but you refuse to believe me when I tell you it’s good. Your favorite thing to do was sit on the beach listening to the waves. You made me go with you the day of your father’s funeral when you needed to breathe.” Dean was prepared to keep talking but suddenly arms were flung around his shoulders and immediately his arms wrapped around her waist. [Y/N] began to sob, clinging to the love of her life like he could be ripped away at any moment. Luckily, Dean was doing the same thing. Together they sat there, wrapped into one another and crying—these were finally tears of joy.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I am so sorry about the long delay between chapters. My mental health was rocky and also I suffer from mild arthritis in both of my hands and any time I sat to try and write, I couldn’t for very long without my hands aching. Here it is though! I hope you love it and I’ll do my best to lessen the time between this and the next one. I appreciate all of the support and love on the story!

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