#dean winchester x injured reader

[jasmines-library]

Could you please do a Winchester sister story where there’s a hex bag hidden in the hotel room her and the brothers are in and the boys have to find it before she dies

Hexed

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Word count: 1k

Warnings: Sickness

⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧

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You knew it would have been famous last words when you said that things were going smoothly. As usual you had packed your small bag and tossed it in the back of Baby before climbing in the backseat. Normal. Routine.

It was a warm day and you had even rolled the window down slightly to let the cool breeze in. Dean was blasting some classic rock and the three of you sung along. The hunt was a few states over from the bunker and the drive was long, so you were glad for the nice day, even if you couldn’t be outside enjoying it: it lightened the mood.

And the motel was just like any other. Two beds and a couch that the three of you would fight over later. The walls were bare besides a few questionable photos they had hung squiffy, and the light didn’t quite work properly. Nevertheless it was a nice room; perfectly suitable for a week or so. Less, you hoped.

You were hunting a particularly troublesome witch: you were just hoping that you would get it over and done with a soon as you could. Witches were a pain in the ass. The three of you had arrived early afternoon so spent the rest of the day scouting out the town and getting to know the local waitresses in Deans case. By the second day, the three of you were certain you had figured out who was causing all of the trouble: a blonde haired man that appeared to be in his twenties. You were moving quickly.

It wasn’t until the third day however that things started to go to shit. When you woke up, groggily stretching out on the couch, your entire body ached. Your head throbbed and your throat felt like it had been torn apart by a thousand razor blades. You groaned.

“You okay?” Sam frowned, looking up from his laptop where he was scanning police footage.

“Mmh” you nodded, pushing yourself up. When you stood, your vision blurred together and you swayed on your feet.

“Woah.” Sam stood up quickly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just feeling a little rough.” Your voice was like sandpaper as he guided you to sit down at the kitchen table. He frowned, wrinkling his nose. “I probably picked it up from someone at the bar.” You recall sitting awkwardly at the table with Sam while Dean tried his luck flirting with the waitresses.

“Probably.” Sam pressed his hand against your forehead. “You are warm though.”

You hummed in response.

“What’s going on?” Dean grumbled as he rolled over in the bed, pulling the covers over his face.

“Y/N’s sick.”

“Am not.” You pouted. “I’m just feeling a bit rough. It’ll pass in a few hours.”

It did not, in fact, pass in a few hours. I fact it got much much worse in a matter of a few hours. Your skin grew clammy and paler, your joints ached and your movements were slow. Yet you were still determined to help with the hunt. Sam and Dean had finally had enough when you, leaving heavily against the impala to stay upright, you dropped a second pistol on the floor whilst trying to reload them with ‘witch-killing-bullets’.

“Alright, that’s it.” Dean said taking the weapon from your hands. You whined in protest. “I’m taking you home.”

“No.” You protested. “I can help. I want to help.”

“No.” Dean told you firmly. “You’re sick, y/n. Very sick. Just look at yourself you can barely stand.”

“You need to rest.”

“I can-“ you were cut off by a coughing fit and a stabbing pain in your gut. When you pulled your hand away, a splatter of crimson plastered itself against your skin. You glanced up warily at your brothers.

Their eyes widened in surprise and Sam had to grip your arms to keep you upright when your knees buckled beneath you.

“S’mmy…” you slurred. “What’s hap’ning to me?”

“The witch.” Dean said suddenly. “She’s been hexed. Get her in the car.”

Your body careened forward, slumping into Sam and he struggled to get your stubborn limbs into the car. Your breathing was fast as you wheezed, clinging on to your brother.

Dean slammed the door shut and pressed his foot down hard on the gas to send the car speeding down the road. He cast glances at you through the overhead mirror. Your eyes were slipping shut as your head hung limply against Sam: he held you close trying to get you to stay awake: alarmed at your rising temperature.

“Hang in there, kiddo.” Sam pleaded.

You made a noise of acknowledgment, whining against the hurt of your body. When you coughed again, more blood stained your teeth. And then you were fading in and out.

“Dean……up!”

“Trying….”

More hurt. More nothing.

“Get her….car.”

Hands on your body, sliding under your back and knees. Someone was lifting you. There was a loud clanging and a pained wheeze that squeezed itself from your lungs.

“Shhhh.” Hands smoothing the hair on your head. Sam? You couldn’t see; your vision had blurred together.

Sam and Dean were frantic. They moved without much coordination as they shuffled you into your room. Sam held you in his arms as Dean tore apart the room, searching under the mattress, tearing the pictures off the walls and up turning the chairs. He had been moving quickly since you stopped responding.

“Sammy, help me look!” Dean barked.

Sam hesitantly lay you down on the bed that Dean had finished tearing apart and began to search. Inside the couch, inside the lampshades, under the couch until Dean plucked out the Hex bag out from your bag with an exclaim of relief. The witch must have slipped it in there whilst you were at the bar. Dean disposed of it quickly and immediately rushed over to your side too late. You had already lost consciousness but your chest was still rising and falling. He let out a breath.

It took a long time for your temperature to come down. Sam and Dean had taken off your extra jacket and even placed an ice pack on you to help. At least one of them had an eye on you at all time. Eventually, it had dropped to a regular temperature and slowly but surely you opened your eyes.

“Oh thank God.” Sam sighed “we were so worried.”

“Sorry….” You mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Dean pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”

You leaned into him. Safe.

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TAGS:

@defonotashleyr @aestheticdaisies @xxrougefangxx @hearts4robs @harleycao @hell-o-kittys @inlovewhithafairytale

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[wandering-winchesters]

If this is how I go, it’s worth it.

Dean x injured reader

Word count: 1,926

Trigger Warnings: injury, blood, mention of a firearm.

Summary: reader gets hurt protecting Dean.

A/N: Requests are open! Please send them to me. If you’d like to be added to my tag list, please let me know! Masterlist

I’ve always had a hard time letting people into my life. Introducing them to the real me, the darker side of me that I hide behind a bubbly facade. The childhood that shaped me, something that very few people know about. When I was little there was no one to protect me from the things that I had to live through, the nightmarish situations that I still relive too often in my sleep. In adulthood, I’ve changed the narrative. I’ve become the protector, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help someone else. Save someone else. Especially those that I love and hold close to my heart.

Sam and Dean have always held a special place in my life. Ever since I met them, on a hunt many years ago. They’d taken me under their wing, Sam willingly, Dean reluctantly. I knew nothing of the supernatural until I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and become the next helpless victim of a nest of vampires. That was until Sam and Dean showed up, just in time.

They knew I didn’t have a great childhood, I’d clued them into that much. However, I would never let them in entirely. It was too much, I didn’t want them to think of me any differently. I’ve seen the way Dean already looks at me after hunts, the annoyance that comes over him when things don’t go the way he wanted. I see the concern that washes over Sam, when I come close to being injured, or when I walk away with cuts and bruises. I don’t need their pity, they don’t need that burden.

Through everything over the years, I began to love them more than I thought possible. Sam like a brother. Dean like an annoying asshole, but also my best friend that I loved with all of my heart, not that I would ever tell him. I couldn’t, he would never feel the same way I was sure of it.

So when I saw that demon smirk and point a gun directly towards Dean’s head, I never hesitated to throw myself onto him and shove him to the ground. My body blocking the path of the bullet, giving Sam enough time to finish the exorcism, the black cloud erupting from the helpless man and fleeing the room.

“What the hell, Y/N. You shouldn’t have done that!” Dean yells, anger etching its way across his face, the concern only evident from the tone of his voice. His eyes searching mine for any sign of pain.

“He was going to kill You Dean.” I grovel, pushing myself off of him, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Dean scowls, his hand coming up to his face to wipe some sweat from his brow.

“So what? You were going to sacrifice yourself for me? How much of an idiot are you?”

I roll my eyes at him, pushing off my thighs to stand from the squatting position I had moved into. It wasn’t until I stood fully upright and began to stretch my limbs that the searing pain caught up to me. I press my hand to my abdomen instinctively, trying to dull the pain.

“I’m not an idiot De-“ I stop mid sentence as I bring my hand up to eye level. Red. Dripping , red blood, covers the entirety of my fingers. My eyes dart up from my hand, locking with Sam’s from across the room. He’s staring back at me, shock etched across his face, but beginning to walk towards me.

“That’s debatable- oh my god Y/N, fuck.” Dean starts, his tone changing halfway through his lecture. He takes the two steps necessary to get to me, taking his flannel off in the process. I feel his hands grip my body, one going to my back, the other balling his flannel up and pressing it tightly against the wound in my abdomen.

“Sam, you’ve gotta help me.” Dean pleads, his eyes never leaving my face.

My body starts to feel numb, the adrenaline wearing off and searing pain roaring through every nerve ending in my body. I feel my legs collapse beneath me, Dean quickly compensating for my lack of lower body strength, by pulling me into his embrace.

I laugh bitterly, coughing and choking on what I assume is blood making its way through my lungs and out of my throat.

“If this is how I go De, it’s worth it. I promise you.” I whisper, my eyes locking with his vivid green ones. His eyes. I’d never allowed myself to stare into his eyes for this long, the deep green is enchanting. Pulling me in, the longer I look. I barely even notice my tears beginning to fall, I’m too focused on the way his eyes are beginning to water as he stares back at me.

I can see his lips moving, feel the way he’s shaking me gently, his hand cupping my face. Sam is right next to me too, I feel the floor pressing into my body as they lower me to the ground, in an attempt to slow the bleeding and apply more pressure. None of that matters now. Nothing matters now, my vision is blurring. My eyelids are heavy, so heavy.

“Hey!” Dean’s firm voice breaks through my haze, his hand lightly slapping my face, “don’t do that, Y/N. Don’t close your eyes. You don’t get to die on me, you hear me sweetheart?” I blink rapidly, trying to clear my field of vision. I momentarily succeed, my eyes locking with his again. I can see the absolute panic engraved into every ounce of this man’s face, he’s moving me now. My head falls forward as he places an arm under my shoulders, the other under my knees. He tucks my head against his chest with his chin, pressing a kiss to my sweat soaked hairline. I continue to fight the wave of exhaustion sweeping over me, blinking my eyes trying to keep them open. The last thing I see is Dean, looking down at me pleading for me to stay with him. But slowly, ever so slowly, my eyes fall closed and the world around me goes black

-

Agony.

This must be hell, the amount of pain that I’m in, the only explanation is hell.

A low groan escapes my lips, every inch of my skin is on fire. Muscles and nerves that I didn’t know I had are screaming out in protest as I try to take a full breath. I manage to inhale, immediately turning into a coughing fit as I choke on the air entering my lungs.

“Easy. Slow breaths, sweetheart.” A hand comes to rest on the crown of my head, stroking my hair gently. The touch startling me, causing me to panic and try to brush away the touch.

“Shhhh, it’s okay.” His voice rushes over my senses, calming me, reassuring me.

I force myself to open my eyes, unsure what to expect.

“Dean?” I whisper, finally realizing that he’s here in-front of me. “Am I dead?” My voice barely functioning, my throat dry and hoarse.

“It’s me sweetheart. You’re not dead. I told you I wasn’t going to let you go.” He smiles slightly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He holds a cup up to my lips, letting me take small sips, his fingers never leaving my skin.

“I must be dead, the Dean I know is never this nice to me.” I whisper, a small laugh escaping me, which I immediately regret. Relief floods over deans face, the crease in his brow lessens, a small smile reaches his eyes this time.

“That’s not true, idiot.” He says, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

“That’s more like it, bitch.” I say, squeezing his hand back.

-

The next few weeks pass slowly, I’m never alone for more than five minutes. The boys take turns, keeping me company, changing my bandages, helping me shower, and just all around waiting on me hand and foot. Dean spends every night on the couch, that he had dragged into my room in the bunker. I don’t object, too weak and tired to even dare. I spend a lot of time sleeping, nightmares plaguing my every attempt at resting.

Tonight is one of those nights, I’ve already awoken from a nightmare. Now I lay on my side, gazing at Dean sitting on the couch. His fingers hovering over the keyboard on his laptop, researching some creature that he has refused to tell me about. Any time I have asked, it starts an argument about how the only thing I need to think about right now is recovering.

“I can feel you staring.” He smirks, bringing his eyes to meet my own, the corners of his mouth turning into a smile. He seems older, worry is etched deeper into his face, his eyes not nearly as bright as they used to be. The dark circles under his eyes, accentuated by the terrible late night lighting of my room.

“I can’t help it, you’re just so annoying I can’t not stare.” I mumble, gently pushing myself up on my elbow. Trying to conceal the wince that follows this slight movement.

Dean chuckles, closing his laptop and turning his body to face me.

“Y/N, we need to talk about what happened back there.” He stares, his brow furrowing again. So many emotions sweep across his face at once, I cant read him.

“You can’t do that again. You cant throw yourself into harms way to save me. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. What am I saying? Something did happen to you. I already have a hard time looking at you, knowing you almost died to save me. I love you too much, to let you die for me.” He wrings his hands as he speaks, his eyes moving away from mine and focusing on the wooden floor boards beneath his feet.

A silence falls between us for a few moments, his words hanging heavy in the air. My head spinning at his words, I love you too much. Dean Winchester loves me.

“Dean, I don’t think you understand me nearly as well as you think you do. There is nothing you can say or do that would stop me from taking a bullet for you again. I will always do everything in my power to protect you. Protect you in the way that I never had. You would do it for me De, you gotta let me do it for you too.” His eyes are trained on me again, red rimmed and watery. He swipes at them with his fingers, clearing his throat and maintaining eye contact with me once more.

I slide my feet towards the edge of the bed, intent upon going to sit near to him. He stops me with a look and a few mumbled words about how I better not move my ass from my spot or else.

I huff, patting the bed next to me.

“C’mere then, Winchester.” I say, watching his every move as he crosses the distance of the bedroom to sit by my side.

“De-“I rest my head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath and steeling my nerves. He reaches over and intertwines our fingers, his thumb tracing a pattern into the back of my hand. “I love you too, more than I thought possible. I’ll always do anything I can to save you. On this side of hell and the next.”

[octoberclidan]

Taken for Granted

Request: sam and dean are in danger, r is supposed to be on the way to help them but they realise that by the time they get there, it'll be too late. so they summon crowley and make a deal, their soul for keeping sam and dean safe but instead of giving them a year or two, he agrees to save sam and dean if their soul will be taken the next time one of the brothers has a fatal injury. so like if one got stabbed, they'd be fine but r would get the stab wound, or if it was a witch who used a spell which would slowly shut down their organs and shit it happens to r instead but theyd be too busy trying to figure out what happened to their brother to notice. Anyway after making this deal they meet back at the bunker and they both have some small injuries but dean goes off at r for not being there for them and says some really horrible stuff to them bc he's mad, and they just take it and don't let the brothers know abt their deal. maybe crowley hangs around, making little comments that nobody understands but r. then maybe the witch thing happens and they spend so much time trying to fix sam that they dont realise r is dying. maybe after the hellhounds get r, crowley lets the boys in on what happened to tease them, maybe bc the brothers were so stressed and lashing out at them while they were trying to fix sam.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader (both platonic)

Summary: Reader (they/them) makes a deal with Crowley to take on injuries sustained by either Sam or Dean in order to save Sam's life. The brothers are unaware of this deal and get annoyed with reader staying at home more and not going with them on cases. When Sam gets hit by a witch's curse, the witch tells them he will die. While they're distracted trying to find a cure for Sam, the reader is dying, becoming closer to going to Hell.

Masterlist

Story:

[Y/N] was lying in bed in the bunker, flicking through an old Men of Letters book on banshees. Sam and Dean had left the previous day for what sounded like a rogue banshee, but [Y/N] had elected to stay behind. Although they had hunted most of their adult life, [Y/N] was always apprehensive when it came to going up against something they'd never faced before, finding the unfamiliarity unsettling. This was often a point of argument between [Y/N] and Dean, who wanted them to 'grow up and act like a real hunter'. Dean and [Y/N] argued a lot. They cared for each other, and saw each other as family much like [Y/N] saw Sam as family, but the bickering was almost constant. They had their chick-flick moments, definitely, but they were becoming less and less frequent.

[Y/N] got on really well with Sam. Sure they had their arguments too, but they didn't bicker with each other like Dean. [Y/N] had been wondering lately whether or not Dean even really wanted them in the bunker anymore. He hadn't said anything specifically about them living there or wanting them to leave, but they were only really tolerating each other for the last few weeks. [Y/N] owed their life to Dean, he had saved them from a vampire nest several years ago, and [Y/N] looked up to him like an older brother. No one could say that the Wichesters weren't the best hunters out there, [Y/N] knew they could learn a lot from the brothers. Just as [Y/N] was turning the page in the book, their phone rang. Picking it up they saw Sam's name, and answered it immediately.

"Hey Sam, how's the hunt going?"

"[Y/N], it's not a banshee". Sam sounded out of breath as he forced this statement out. Pushing back off their pillow, [Y/N] sat up in bed.

"What is it?"

"No idea, but Dean". [Y/N] heard him pause and swallow, trying to catch his breath. [Y/N] could feel their heart start to beat faster, now worried about whatever was going on. "Dean's hurt. Building collapsed. I can't carry him out, his leg is caught. There's smoke". He tried to catch his breath again but began to cough.

"Sam?" [Y/N] called down the phone, now panicking too. He didn't answer, and they called his name again but still no answer. Sam and Dean were too far away for [Y/N] to get to them, and they didn't even know where exactly the brothers were, just the general area from Sam's update earlier that morning. They threw the phone down on the bed and ran out of the room to get the materials needed to summon probably the only person who not only could help, but possible would; Crowley.

[Y/N] had mixed the summoning ingredients in a bowl, had drawn the sigil and had lit the candles. They cut their hand and spilled their blood into the bowl before setting it on fire. [Y/N] hadn't even finished the incantation when Crowley appeared before them.

"Hello, Pet". [Y/N] looked up from the bowl to frown at Crowley's nickname for them. 'The Winchester's Pet', or the 'Spare Member of Team Free Will' were currently Crowley's go-to nicknames for [Y/N]. "What brings me here today?" He asked with a smirk, linking his hands together behind his back.

"I need your help" [Y/N] grumbled at him while they wrapped their cut hand with a bandage. "Sam and Dean, you need to save them. Now".

"They're big boys, they don't usually need much help, at least not bad enough for me to step in. Do they know you called me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. [Y/N] sighed and shook their head.

"We don't have time for this Crowley, will you save them or not? I'm pretty sure they're stuck in a burning house somewhere in California".

"What are you offering?" He now looked interested, seeing [Y/N]'s desperate expression.

"What do you want? My soul? You can have it. Give me the ten years and it's yours, just don't tell them".

Crowley clicked his tongue and began to pace within the devil's trap on the ground. "Ten years sounds like an awfully long time to wait. You know I'm not a crossroads demon anymore, right? I'm the King of Hell! My deals are a harder bargain, Pet".

"Five years"

"Still too long"

"Three"

"Hmm... nope"

"Fine, give me one, then I'll be dragged to Hell willingly, no loopholes".

Crowley stopped pacing and looked up at [Y/N] through his eyelashes, a mischievous look on his face. "It's not really an interesting deal now, is it? It's a bit predictable, boring, normal, been done before..."

"We're running out of time Crowley". [Y/N] snapped at him. "Just tell me what you want".

"You sell your soul, but I'm not putting a time limit on it. You die in the place of whichever Winchester dies next. Until one of them dies, you take on any potentially fatal injuries. One of them gets a scratch, fine, they can keep it. One of them gets a stab wound that they could bleed out from... you take it instead". He smiled at them. "They're currently stuck in a burning house, I'll get them out. You'll take on the lung damage, and Dean's little fibula fracture, it's a nasty one". He snickered.

"Deal. Get them out now".

"Where's my 'thank you'? My kiss? I'm offering you a very generous offer. They might not kick the bucket for another thirty years you know". He smirked at them, knowing that the Winchesters had died many, many times already and the idea of both of them lasting another thirty years without either of them dying was laughable. [Y/N] grumbled but stepped forward into the devil's trap, where Crowley smiled and leaned forward, kissing their lips. When [Y/N] pulled back only two seconds later, he was gone.

[Y/N] rushed to clean up the evidence of their summoning, and just when they were finishing cleaning up the bowl, they started to cough. Their chest hurt, and their throat was dry. Coughing the entire way back to their bedroom, they had only just made it to their bed when they yelled out in pain and heard their leg crack. They looked down at it, it looked fine, but the pain in their lower leg was excruciating. [Y/N] tossed their head back on the pillow and groaned out in pain, gripping their leg tightly with their hand. They couldn't help it, the tears just came spilling out. They were alone, in pain, and couldn't do anything about it. The only thing that made them feel better was a text from Sam saying the monster was dead and they were both okay.

***

Two days passed before the boys arrived back in the bunker. Two days of bearing the pain and limping to and from the kitchen and the bathroom, only leaving the bed when absolutely necessary. It was early evening when [Y/N] was woken up by a knock on their bedroom door. Clearing their throat and trying not to cough too loud, they called out that the door was open. Sam opened the door and poked his head inside, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion when he saw that [Y/N] was in bed. "Hey, just letting you know we're home. Nothing but some bruises and a few small cuts. Why are you in bed? Are you sick?"

"Uh, yeah, I think I just have a bad cold or something". [Y/N] lied, clearing their throat again. "You uh, got out okay then?" Sam opened the door farther and walked into the room, sitting down on [Y/N]'s bed. They had to bite their tongue to stop a painful groan from leaving their lips as Sam brushed against their damaged leg.

"Yeah, it was really weird actually. Definitely wasn't a banshee, it managed to pretty much destroy the house we were in - the victim's house, set it on fire and everything. Dean's leg was trapped under a collapsed wall, the smoke was really bad. The monster, whatever it was, was coming at us, it was about to take a swing at us, that's when our call cut out, but I was able to keep it back for a little while, then it just fell to the ground. It was dead, but I didn't do anything that could have killed it, I was just fighting with my hands and a small knife. Then the smoke disappeared and the wall on Dean's leg broke apart and he was fine, just had a cut on the side of his leg". [Y/N] was nodding along. "I guess it's just one of those weird ones where we never really know what it was or what happened". He shrugged. "You need anything? Medicine, soup?"

"Could you get me a glass of water?"

"Sure". He smiled kindly at them, and thankfully decided to pat the edge of the bed instead of their leg before he stood up. Sam left the room, and only a few seconds later Dean was in his space in the doorway.

"Why are you in bed?" He asked, stepping into the room and folding his arms.

"I'm sick". [Y/N] coughed and Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Probably just from sitting around all day every day in here, it's the dust. Ever think about going out and getting some fresh air? Maybe even going on a hunt and being useful? Maybe even interact with people? Possibly catch an actual cold?" His words caused [Y/N] more pain than the leg was at that moment. They had just given up their soul, taken on smoke damage and a broken leg for him, and there he was standing there and judging them for being in bed. It was the same story that had repeated itself over and over again in their relationship, or lack of. They felt very taken for granted.

"Fuck off Dean". [Y/N] said, rolling over in their bed to face away from him, pulling the covers up to their chin. They were close to tears, and they definitely didn't want Dean to see.

"Excuse me? You know, if you pulled your weight around here and actually plucked up the courage to go on hunts out of your comfort zone, maybe Sam and I wouldn't be so cut up. We had a house fall on us, we're covered in cuts and bruises, and you're lying in bed with a cold? Getting Sam to bring you water? Grow up". He voice was raised now and [Y/N] couldn't help the tears from spilling over. They heard their door slam closed, Dean was gone.

***

The next morning [Y/N] hobbled into the kitchen to get some breakfast, hoping that Dean wouldn't be in there. Thankfully, it was only Sam sitting at the table. He looked up from his laptop and smiled and them as they limped in, but his smile dropped when he saw their pained expression. "Something wrong with your leg?" He frowned at them.

I fell down the stairs while you were gone, it'll be fine". [Y/N] shrugged as they made their way to get some cereal. Sam stood up immediately and stepped over to grab the cereal for them.

"You sit down, I'll get your stuff". He said but they shook their head.

"I'm not useless Sam".

"I didn't say you were". He held up his hands in defense. "You're just obviously in pain, and I'm not, I can help".

"I don't need your help".

He stood back and folded his arms. "What's gotten into you?"

[Y/N] let out a deep breath before moving over to the table and sitting down. "Do you think I should move out?"

"What? Why would you say that?" He sat down opposite them and studied their face carefully.

"Dean hates me. He thinks I don't pull my weight. I try to go on as many cases as I can, and when I don't go on them I spend all my team researching for you guys. No matter how much I try to help he just shouts at me and basically tells me I'm a waste of space".

Sam reached over the table and placed his hand on [Y/N]'s. "You're not a waste of space, Dean was just scared, and he lashes out when he's scared".

"He doesn't talk to Jody like that, or Garth, or anyone".

"He has. I've seen it. He's even spoken to me like that, it doesn't mean he hates you or wants you gone. I promise you, we want you here". He smiled at them. "Let me check your leg, okay?" [Y/N] nodded and Sam examined their leg, causing [Y/N] to wince at his touch. "Okay, so it's impossible to tell without an x-ray, so I don't know if it's broken or not, but you definitely seem to be in a lot of pain with it. Do you want me to take you to the hospital?" [Y/N] shook their head at him. "Alright, but you tell me if it gets worse, tell me if you need help with anything. You sit there and I'll get you some breakfast. I don't want to hear any protesting, and please, just ignore any of Dean's comments. I'll talk to him".

***

Sam spent the next few weeks helping [Y/N] out while their leg slowly healed. [Y/N] ignored Dean as much as they could, and for the most part Dean just left them alone. He even did ask how their leg was a few times, showing a little bit of concern, and his snide comments about [Y/N] being lazy or scared of cases were kept to a minimum. They were still made, but he definitely held back whenever he caught Sam's glare. They were all sitting in the library one morning when Sam looked up from his laptop. "I think I have a case, sounds like a simple salt and burn"

"Go on". Dean put down the magazine he was reading and leaned forward in his chair to listen.

"So get this, a woman reported seeing her dead husband in their garage, apparently throwing stuff around, and she thinks he messed with the breaks in her car and caused her to crash. It's only a couple hours drive from here, we could be there and back by this evening?"

[Y/N] shrugged. "Sound good to me".

"Is your leg good enough?" Sam asked.

"Yeah I think so. This doesn't sound like anything too strenuous anyway, we just go to his grave, salt and burn his bones, then check that he's gone?"

"Sounds like a plan". Dean nodded and went to grab his jacket, and the three of them headed out to the Impala. Dean and [Y/N] always got along better when they were out on hunts, mostly because he couldn't call them lazy or cowardly when they were out there together. The car journey was a nice break from the tension, the three of them chatting and laughing together about a previous case involving Cas being turned into a cat for a day. It was moments like these that made [Y/N] feel like a real part of the team, and not just a 'spare', or a hunter that the boys worked with on occasion. They just wished that Dean would treat them like a real friend more often.

After they salted and burned the bones in the empty graveyard, they filled the grave back in and made their way to the victim's house to check for any signs of a ghost. Dean had his EMF meter out and was going to check the garage where the ghost had last been seen. Sam would check the upstairs of the house, and [Y/N] was to check the downstairs. [Y/N] was searching the kitchen when Dean yelled from the garage. [Y/N] ran towards him and found him on the ground clutching his side. He looked up to [Y/N] and pointed towards the corner of the room. "His wedding ring... on the table... burn it". He managed to force out through gritted teeth. [Y/N] ran towards the work bench in the corner of the garage and lifted up the wedding ring when they heard a gun shot behind them. Spinning around they saw Sam standing in the doorway with his salt loaded gun, having just shot at what [Y/N] assumed was the ghost. Quickly, [Y/N] grabbed a bowl on the bench and threw the ring into it before emptying a container of gasoline into it and taking out their lighter. The ghost reappeared behind Sam and he turned around to shoot it again when [Y/N] flicked on their lighter and tossed it into the bowl. After being shot, the ghost reappeared in front of Sam but was screeching as it went up in flames. Sam and Dean were distracted by it when [Y/N] felt a pain in their side. Clutching their lower left abdomen, they looked down and saw blood start to wet their shirt. Quickly, while the boys were still distracted, [Y/N] zipped up their jacket to stop the blood from being visible.

"Hey, where'd it go?" [Y/N] looked over at Dean who had pulled up his t-shirt and was examining his side. "I swear that thing stabbed me with a knife".

"Maybe it just hit you? There's no sign of a stab wound". Sam said as he leant Dean a hand to pull him up from the ground.

"I know what a stab wound feels like Sammy, I was stabbed".

"Well, you're fine now! Maybe whatever it hit you with just felt like a stab". Sam shrugged as Dean pulled his t-shirt back down. Dean looked over at [Y/N] who had their hand on their side, applying pressure to the wound.

"You good?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah just a stitch probably from running". [Y/N] lied, and thankfully it looked like the two boys bought it.

"Alright, well let's get out of here". Sam said and they made their way out to the Impala. [Y/N] was in the back of the car as usual, as Dean drove and Sam sat shotgun. [Y/N] was having a tough time keeping the pain off their face, very much aware that any time Dean looked in the rear view mirror that he could see them. They were halfway home when a voice caused all three off them to jump.

"Hello, boys". Crowley had appeared in the seat next to [Y/N]. "And the Spare". He turned to smile at them.

"Get out of my car Crowley". Dean growled at him.

"I'm only here to check and see that everything is working like it's supposed to. You know I pride myself on good customer service". Crowley smiled at Dean in the rear view mirror, and Sam turned around in his seat to face him with a confused expression.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked him. Crowley opened his mouth but [Y/N] leaned over slightly and kicked his leg, causing him to look over and see [Y/N]'s warning glance.

"Oh, nothing you need to be concerned with. Nice seeing you". Crowley winked and then he was gone, leaving Sam and Dean even more confused and leaving [Y/N] annoyed, worried that either Sam or Dean would cop on to the fact that Crowley was talking about a deal.

"Well that was weird, what do you think that was about?" Dean asked. Sam shook his head and shrugged, and [Y/N] did the same. The rest of the drive back was quiet apart from Dean's music, and [Y/N] was thankful that the boys didn't keep talking about it, just looking forward to being able to lock themselves in their room and take care of the stab wound in private.

***

[Y/N] kept to themselves over the next few weeks. The wound was healing nicely, but they felt like they may be a liability on hunts since it was still causing pain, so they had passed on several hunts. This had lead to Dean's comments about [Y/N] being lazy making a return. Sam had talked to him about it several times at this stage, clearly seeing how much it was bothering [Y/N], but Dean didn't care anymore. He found it difficult to respect a hunter who was turning down hunts for apparently no reason. Sam had also checked up on [Y/N] several times, but eventually became frustrated with them constantly shutting him out and refusing to open up about whatever was clearly on their mind. So, both Sam and Dean had taken to just leaving [Y/N] alone to work through whatever it was they needed to work through, and went on cases just the two of them.

Luckily, on two of the recent hunts the boys went on, neither of them sustained any serious injury, which meant [Y/N] was also in the clear. [Y/N]'s wound had just about finished healing while the boys were on their third case without them. Unfortunately, on this third case, things didn't go as planned. Dean had called [Y/N] early that morning to say they were on their way home, and he needed [Y/N] to research reversal spells. He wouldn't explain what happened, but just told them to find out everything the bunker had to offer on reversing a witch's curse if you didn't have the opportunity to kill the witch. [Y/N] was sitting at the map table going through the books they had found when the bunker's door opened and Sam and Dean came down the stairs.

"You find anything?" Dean asked as he sat down at the table.

"If you can't kill the witch who cast it, then the reversal spells all seem to depend on the curse that was cast. There isn't like a 'blanket' reversal spell for curses" [Y/N] explained. "What happened?"

"Well that's just great. You'd think that if you weren't going to bother coming on cases then you could at least be of some use with research". Dean rolled his eyes and stood up from the table.

"Dean, it's not [Y/N]'s fault". Sam stepped over to grab his shoulder but Dean shrugged it off.

"Yeah? Well if they had been there then maybe you wouldn't have been hit by that stupid curse. Or if they had been there then maybe we could've ganked the bitch". He glared at [Y/N].

Trying to ignore both his glare and his words, [Y/N] looked to Sam. "What curse?"

Sam sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "The witch hit me with a curse that's apparently gonna slowly shut down my organs. I don't know how long 'slowly' means, but if we can't find a cure then-"

"Then he dies. And I'll be blaming you". Dean cut him off and pointed a finger at [Y/N]. Feeling tears start to form, [Y/N] quickly stood up from the table and made their way to their room, ignoring Sam calling after them. They spent the evening curled up in bed, letting the tears come out. There was no way out of this one, they were going to die. They were going to die, and they were going to spend their last days, weeks, or months with the boys upset at them for not going on the case.

At some stage, [Y/N] had cried themself to sleep. Their sleep was not pleasant, filled with nightmares of losing either Sam or Dean, then changing to dying themself but Sam and Dean not caring. Crowley's smug face made appearances, the sound of Hellhounds coming for them too. They woke up with a jolt of pain; their lower back hurt, their stomach hurt, breathing hurt, their head hurt. They knew it had started, the curse was starting to break their organs down. Their breathing was laboured and they were trying to catch their breath when there was a knock on the door. Without waiting for a response, it opened, and Sam walked in. Catching a glimpse of [Y/N]'s panicked expression, he quickly walked over to the bed and sat down. "Nightmare?" He asked with concern. [Y/N] only nodded, finally getting some control over their breathing again. "I uh, I just wanted to apologise to you on Dean's behalf. He didn't mean what he said, he's just scared of losing me". Sam looked almost embarrassed by Dean's behaviour. "Honestly I feel fine, I think maybe the curse didn't work properly or something, but Dean's determined. He's summoning Crowley now to make some sort of deal".

"What?!" [Y/N] forced out.

"No, don't worry, he's not gonna sell his soul or anything, he's just going to see if Crowley needs anything, like an artefact from the bunker's collection or something". Sam explained. [Y/N] pushed the covers back and got out of the bed, it was to fast because their vision blurred slightly and they swayed, and Sam reached out to grab their shoulders. "You good?" [Y/N] just nodded and pushed through the aches they were feeling everywhere to get to their door. They needed to get to Dean before he called Crowley; they didn't trust him not to tell him about the deal they'd already made.

It was too late when they got to Dean, Crowley was already standing in front of him. "Moose, Pet, nice of you to join us". He smiled at them.

"He won't deal". Dean turned to face Sam, checking him for any sign of the curse working. He didn't look at [Y/N], but if he had, he would've noticed the bags under their eyes and the fact that they were very out of breath.

"I cannot in good faith make a deal with you to save Sam when Sam's not in any danger". Crowley said.

"Good faith?" Sam scoffed at him. "Since when do you have good faith? What do you mean I'm not in danger? The witch said the curse would shut down my organs".

Crowley smirked and glanced over at [Y/N], who gave him a warning glare. Crowley shrugged. "The witch was wrong, Sam's not going to die from any curse that was cast. Now, if you don't mind, I am a very busy person and I have more pressing matters to attend to. Goodbye". With one last knowing smirk directed towards [Y/N], Crowley vanished.

"I guess that's good news?" Sam asked, allowing himself to relax a bit.

"Yeah, yeah I guess the curse didn't work". Dean smiled at him and patted his shoulder before heading out of the room, still not paying any attention to [Y/N]. Sam turned to [Y/N] and they gave him a small smile, hoping it didn't come across as a grimace as they felt a sharp pain in their chest.

"I think I'll try get some more sleep". [Y/N] said, turning towards the door. "I'm glad you're okay Sam".

***

Over the next few days [Y/N] was getting sicker and sicker. They didn't know if Dean didn't notice their absence, or if he just didn't care, but he didn't once check on them. Sam did, coming to the conclusion that [Y/N] must have the flu. He brought them food and water and checked in every few hours, but [Y/N] was asleep for the most part, extremely exhausted. Sleeping was the only time that [Y/N] wasn't in pain, and every time they woke up the pain had grown worse. They were now coughing up blood, their vision was constantly blurry, and they were having difficultly even just getting to the bathroom that was only across the hall from their bedroom.

One evening Sam had come into their room to find them asleep, but had woken them up to say they were heading out. He said Dean had been complaining about being stuck in the bunker, but left out the part about Dean complaining that they were stuck in the bunker because [Y/N] was sick and Sam didn't want to leave them alone. Sam thought it would be best to at least get out to the local bar for a few hours, let Dean let off some steam. He had told [Y/N] to text or call if they needed anything, and had brought them a glass of water before leaving. [Y/N] fell back to sleep as soon as Sam left.

***

It was after midnight when Sam and Dean left the bar. It was close to the bunker, they only had a short walk back, and Sam had been planning on using that time to talk to Dean about [Y/N]. "What's your issue with them? Really?" Sam asked.

"What?"

"[Y/N], you get on great on hunts but the moment we're back at the bunker, it's like you don't give a shit about them. You give them a really hard time Dean, and they look up to you".

"I don't know Sam, they just get on my nerves sometimes. They're a great hunter, and they waste their skills by sitting out on cases".

"They've been on plenty of cases with us".

"Yeah, but only when they know exactly what we're up against. The moment we cross into unfamiliar territory, they chicken out and stay behind. It's a waste. Saving people, hunting things, that's what hunters do. We're not supposed to give a shit what we're going up against, we're not supposed to care that we might get hurt. We're supposed to save people. They can't do that if they're sitting around all day or staying in bed".

"You know they're pretty sick at the moment, right? Like [Y/N] isn't just being lazy, or scared, they're finding it difficult to even breathe. I was half thinking of just taking them to the hospital tomorrow even if they protest".

"You really think it's that bad?" Dean asked as he opened the door to the bunker.

"Yeah Dean, I'm worried". They walked down the stairs together and passed the map table towards the bedrooms. "I'm just gonna check on them quickly". Sam said and Dean nodded, heading towards his own room. He had just reached his bed when he heard Sam shout his name. He grabbed his gun and ran out to [Y/N]'s room to find Sam standing out in the corridor, staring into the room, all colour washed from his face.

"Sammy?" Dean asked cautiously and Sam turned to him, tears pooling in his eyes. Dean stepped towards the door and looked inside, and his heart sank, he immediately felt nauseous. [Y/N]'s chest was ripped apart, and there were bloody pawprints all over the floor. He clenched his jaw and turned away. "Get Crowley here. Now. That son of a bitch had something to do with this". He closed the door behind him and Sam ran off down the corridor to summon Crowley. Dean leaned against the wall and slid down it, feeling his heart beating heavily and tears of his own threatening to spill. He had been nothing but mean to [Y/N] for weeks, months, as long as they'd known each other. He had never been as welcoming as Sam had been, he'd never taken the time to really get to know them, and now their soul had been dragged to Hell just like his had. He needed to know what happened.

"Squirrel! What's the matter?" Dean looked up to see Crowley standing above him, Sam just behind him.

"Fix this". Dean hissed at him before pushing himself back up to standing. "Whatever the fuck you did, you bring them back". He poked Crowley in the chest and Crowley clutched his chest, feigning offense.

"A deal goes two ways you know, I didn't do anything without [Y/N] agreeing. In fact, it was [Y/N] who instigated it".

"What deal?" Sam asked from behind him. Crowley rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Are you two really that stupid? So blind?" He chuckled. "Does a burning house in California ring any bells?"

Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Get to the point Crowley". Dean spat.

"You were gonners. That Kapre was going to burn you two idiots alive. [Y/N] summoned me, offered up their soul in exchange for saving you".

"They sold their soul? You only gave them a few months? What about the ten years? Or even the one year that Dean got?" Sam asked and Crowley shrugged.

"Wasn't interesting enough. I enjoy you two, you're entertaining. The Spare, not so much. Too much sitting around. I saw an opportunity for a bit more entertainment, so I took it". He smiled at them while they both tried to control their anger. "The deal I offered, that they willingly accepted, was that they would sell their soul, but I would only take it when one of you two died. Any potentially fatal or serious wound that either of you received, [Y/N] would take it on instead. They got your broken leg, your stab wound Dean. They got your damaged lungs Moose, and the thing that finished them off, that pesky little witch's curse you got hit with". He smirked at Sam.

"Undo the deal. Now". Dean's jaw was clenched, his fists curled tightly so his fingernails were digging into his palms. Crowley simply raised an eyebrow and nodded towards [Y/N]'s door.

"It's a bit late for that".

"Then make a new deal". Sam demanded, his anger becoming harder for him to control.

"I don't want your souls, not interested".

"Then something else. Anything else. Bring them back".

"Well... there is one thing I could think of that I would find useful". He glanced between the two brothers. "I'll bring them back, their soul returns to them, on the condition than neither of you kill any of my demons for a full year. If one of you does, my hellhound comes back and drags [Y/N] back to Hell all over again".

"Deal". Even Sam was surprised at how quickly Dean agreed to this. Giving up killing demons for an entire year was a lot for him, especially for someone he didn't really get along with.

"Done. Pleasure doing business with you boys". Crowley winked and he was gone. Sam and Dean exchanged a look as Sam carefully pushed back open [Y/N]'s door, and Dean watched as Sam's shoulders relaxed in relief and a smile spread across his face.

"[Y/N]". He breathed out and stepped into the room. Dean was more hesitant, but he needed to see that the deal had worked for himself. Taking a deep breath, he followed Sam to find [Y/N] standing in the middle of the room, fully intact, no sign of sickness. They were staring down at their chest and feeling their body, obviously confused. Sam was over to them in a flash, engulfing them in a hug. "You're okay". He squeezed them around their shoulders and held them as close as possible before letting go and standing back to look at them properly.

"Hey kiddo". Dean stood behind Sam and [Y/N] looked to him.

"What... what happened?"

"You made a stupid ass deal is what happened". Dean grumbled but walked over to them, examining their face for any signs of their previous deal, but [Y/N] looked completely healthy. "C'mere". He mumbled and held out an arm, pulling them close to his chest. "Don't you ever make a deal like that again. You hear me? Your soul is off the table".

"I'm sorry". [Y/N] sniffed, their voice muffled by Dean's flannel.

"I'm sorry too. You saved us, you saved Sammy. We... I took you for granted. I know I'm tough on you, but I promise I'll try and be more understanding in future. I guess I just kinda maybe miss you when you're not out there with us". [Y/N] chucked at Dean's attempt at an apology and pulled back from him.

"It's okay, I think maybe I'll try get out of my comfort zone a bit more, I wouldn't have had to call Crowley if I'd just been with you two in the first place".

"Look, it's in the past. Mistakes were made on all sides. The important thing is we're all here, we're all alive, and we're all safe. How about we take a week off hunting and just spend time together?" Sam suggested and [Y/N] nodded.

"Well, it's not like we can go out and kill demons anyway". Dean grumbled and [Y/N] looked to Sam questioningly.

"We'll explain later. Come on, let's get you something to eat". He put his arm around [Y/N]'s shoulders and the three of them walked out to the kitchen for some much-needed bonding over some food and beers. Dean was going to spend the next week doing whatever he could to make it up to [Y/N], to see them smile.

The end.

[novafics]

l Save me l

Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Hunt gone wrong, mentions of Violence, Talk of death, strong language.

Summary: You go solo on a seemingly easy Vampire hunt though you are quick to realise its not as easy as you first thought.

Word Count: 1.3K

Masterlist:

---

You knew you should have asked for help on this hunt, but of course you were too stubborn for your own good. Currently you were on what you thought would be an easy Vampire hunt, but quickly turned sour once you realised this wasn't just 1 or 2 vampires it was a whole nest with close to 15 vampires. Wayyy more than you could handle on your own. Sam had checked in with you 5 minutes before you set out to where you had tracked them down and you assured him that you could handle yourself, how wrong you were.

Sam loved and trusted you so you knew that you wouldn't receive any ‘do you need any help’ texts as he knew just how capable you were, but this was when you told him it was just 1 or 2 Vampires.

You were currently huddled in the back corners of the house that the nest was occupying. You entered through the back door of the house taking the extra precaution to make sure that you weren't heard which definitely paid off when you witnessed 6 vampires stroll past you into another room. That was when you realised just how bad you fucked up as you had to quickly duck through the open basement door to which the vampires you had just avoided blocked the way you came in.

You had two options at this point; option one which was to be stubborn and continue with the hunt which would most likely end up with you dead, which wasn’t a very enticing option, so option two it is; swallow your pride and call Sam.

You pulled your phone out and silently prayed that he would answer quickly as you could hear more and more footsteps getting way too close to your location for your comfort.

One ring, two ring, three rings, you prayed and prayed that you wouldn't be stuck in this situation any longer, the feeling of dread that you would be stuck for the whole nest of Vampires to find made your blood run cold. Luckily for you Sam picked up.

“Hey sweetheart, how is the hunt going?” Sam asked flipping through lore research, “umm Sam, i need your help, i fucked up” the fear in your voice not escaping his eared making alarm bells go off in his head. You never call for help, let alone sounding as scared as you did. “Ok me and Dean are on the way don’t worry, what’s going on?” you could hear the roar of the impala in the background along with the worried sound of Dean also asking what was going on. “The nest turned out to be wayyy bigger than I thought Sam, there are close to 15 Vampires here, I'm hiding in the basement, I don't know if i'll make it out of this one Sam” You have never been so scared on a hunt, let alone admitting that it might be your last one. “Don't say that love, were on our way, were so close” just as he said that you heard movement outside the basement door and not just from 1 person.

As you heard the footsteps get closer you decided the best thing to do was huddle behind the stairs and hope to god that none of them spotted you. You turned your phone sound off all the way. Unknown to you Sam and dean were painstakingly begging you to answer them until they realised you couldn't talk so they remained silent listening and making sure they didn't hear any distress on your end.

You swore you could hear your own heartbeat beating out of your chest at how anxious you  were in this moment. You watched painfully as multiple sets of feet came slowly stalking down the stairs and filling the basement. Your hope of not getting spotted was quickly dwindling as multiple vampires filled the basement. “Who do we have down here” One loud voice boomed down the stairs, just that sentence alone filled you with dread. They knew you were here.

 “Looks like a hunter picked the wrong nest to hunt” I heard from my right, just before I was roughly grabbed and shoved up the stairs, my arms being twisted painfully behind my back eliciting a scream which was enough to let both Sam and Dean know you had been found.

Both Sam and Dean heard your scream just as they had pulled up to the Vampire infested house. You had never been captured before so Sam in this moment was filled up with as much fear as one man could have. He feared that you would be lying dead inside the house and that your last moments would have been filled with terror and fear, something he had feared would happen after he experienced Jessica die.

Sam and Dead had raced up the steps to the house machetes in hand ready to kill whatever they had to in order to get you back, what they weren't prepared for however was to come face to face with 7 or so Vampires and for you to be weakly on your knees holding your definitely broken arm with multiple bite marks littering your neck from where the Vampires fed on you. You were weak and deadly pale, but alive. There were close to 15 Vampires here in the beginning but through the discovery of Sam Winchester's girlfriend being in the house many fled knowing that Sam and Dean weren't far behind.

You weakly kneeled there waiting for the next Vampire to take their turn feeding from you when you heard the front door burst open, splintering and sending wood all over the floor in front of you. “Let her go!!” You knew that voice, it was the voice you love and the voice you were praying you would hear this whole hunt. “And what if we don't?” the Vampire holding you on your knees stated “you don’t have a choice, you're all gonna lose your heads anyway” you heard Dean say while admiring the freshly sharpened machete in his hand. Not long after Dean stated that both he and Sam started swinging. You were too weak to hold your head up at this point and with the fighting the Vampire holding you let your body drop to the floor in order to avoid the blade of Dean’s machete.

While you weakly lied there you held your arm close to your body and tried to keep your eyes open. Though you were weak you managed to lift your head up to see the last vampire's head roll making the last of your fear vanish. Moments later you felt someone lift your body up into their lap and hold your face in their hands. In that second you realised just how cold you had become turning your body more into theirs in order to relish in their body heat.

“Baby?” “please open your eyes love, please” you knew that voice, of course you did, it was the man you loved. You painstakingly opened your eyes with as much energy as you could muster in that moment looking straight into Sam’s eyes letting him know that you were still alive and here with them. They hadn't lost you.

“Thank you for saving me Sammy” you whispered thankful to know that you were now safe, hurt, but alive. “You don’t have to thank me love, let's go home, what do you say?” Sam had never felt such relief in his life.

Sam then continued to pick you up and carry you out to the Impala where Dean was waiting to drive everyone back to the bunker. “Thank you too Dean” you announced once you were gently laid down in the back with your head in Sam’s lap “no problem darling, glad you're ok. Couldn't bear it if you left me to deal with Sam alone” he joked, eliciting a laugh from you and an eye roll from sam. You snuggled into Sam on the way back thankful to have such great people you can trust.

[sweet-lost-husbands]

Hidden Wounds

Hurt/Comfort

Its late I have no idea whats happening anymore. 🫠🫠

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: Y/n is Dean's daughter and he takes her on a hunt for the first time. She gets injured and tries to hide it.

Warnings: Serious injury, blood, gore, stiches, painful angel healing.

No usage of y/n.

Italics are the character's thoughts

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Not edited... sorry for any mistakes

Searing pain tore through her side as thick claws dug into her flesh. However, the monster was soon pulled away and begun to fight Dean. Shit.

Dean never brought her out on hunts for this reason specifically. As her father, it would kill him if she got hurt or worse and he couldn’t protect her. It was only by some miracle that Sam had convinced him, but now there was no way in hell they’d ever let her hunt again.

She acted quickly, zipping up her jacket to conceal the wound. She didn’t have time to inspect it or find a way to keep pressure because Dean was only meters away finishing off the vamp.

She couldn’t let him find out.

She noticed as something changed in him when he looked at her, maybe he had saw the brief wince of pain that flickered across her face.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" he asked, concern etched into his features.

Double shit. He was on to her.

She forced a smile, trying to play it off. "Yeah, just a bit tired from all the action."

He gave her a scrutinizing look but didn't press further, assuming her tiredness was due to the action of the hunt. They continued with their mission, the adrenaline masking the pain that now throbbed in her side. God it hurt.

The fight was a quick one with new vamps who didn’t really know how to put up much resistance and they headed back to their motel.

“You did so well.” Dean praised. If only he knew.

Her eyes had long blurred at the edges and her head spun. She felt like she was as weak as kitten and her legs threatened to give in as she stood.

With the high gone, she felt the pain intensify, but she remained silent, not wanting to worry her father and Sam. She changed into fresh clothes, hoping to hide the blood seeping through her shirt, but she couldn't hide it for long.

Walking into the main room, Dean and Sam noticed her sluggish movements and the pallor that washed over her face. Concern etched into every line of their faces as they finally realized something wasn’t right.

Dean immediately abandoned whatever he was doing and rushed up to her, Sam in tow.

“Hey, easy, easy, let me see.” He came to a stop in front of her, analysing every inch of her body and wondering how in the hell he could have missed something like this. His hands found their way to her jacket wanting a better look to see if she was hurt.

“No.” She snapped, weakly fighting his roaming hands with what little energy she had left.

That’s when he managed to unzip it and see the new shirt beneath, completely soaked through with a thick crimson.

“Holy-” She swiftly cradled her in his arms and carried her to his bed.

“’m fine.” She mumbled but he shushed her.

“Darling you’re not.”

“Sam, a little help.” He called but Sam was already next to him with the first aid kit.

They quickly cut away her clothing enough to give her privacy but still see the wound. Only then did they realise the severity of her injury.

"What happened?" Dean's voice was laced with a mixture of worry and anger. "Why didn't you tell us you were hurt?"

“Because you won’t let me hunt again.” She whispered, breaking into a scream as Sam applied pressure with such force it felt like his entire body weight was on her. A hand was clasped around her mouth.

Sam’s big eyes met her. “I’m sorry but you have to be quiet.”

Despite Dean’s frustration he gently held her hand, wanting to be there for her. “Damn straight I won’t let you hunt again, especially if you get hurt and refuse to tell us.”

Sam removed the pressure and started to examine the damage. Her heart pounded as she anticipated the pain that was to come. It was definitely going to need stitches.

Dean's face softened as he looked at his daughter, his voice worried and gentle. "It's going to hurt, sweetheart, but we need to patch you up." In the meantime, he quickly sent a prayer to Castiel to get here soon to heal her and take away her pain. He never wanted her to have to go through something like this.

“I don’t-”

Dean cut her off, “Shhh, I’m right here, I won’t let anything else happen to you.”

She nodded, trying to steel herself for the pain ahead. She squeezed her eyes shut as Sam carefully cleaned the wounds, his touch gentle despite the urgency of the situation. But the sudden burn of the antiseptic sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but flinch and squirm.

Dean held her hand tightly, providing a source of comfort and support. "You're doing great. Just a little longer."

He could barely watch as Sam took out the needle and started to work. Each prick of the needle sent jolts of pain through her. She tried to remain still, not wanting to prolong the process, but her body trembled with each stitch and when it got too much, she tried to pull away, but Sam kept her there.

“I know, I know.” Dean kissed her forehead.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back, refusing to let her pain be a burden to her family. She knew they were mad at her for not seeking help earlier, and she couldn't bear to see disappointment in their eyes.

When the stitching was finally done, she took a shaky breath, relieved that it was over. She managed to will one hand up to try and feel around the wound, but her hand was pulled away.

“Don’t touch it, we don’t want to have too re-clean it.”

She couldn’t recall when exactly, but Cas arrived, his eyes filled with concern as he saw her condition. "Are you hurt?" he asked softly, already knowing the answer.

She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, but I'll be fine."

Cas placed a hand on her injured side, his healing energy flowing through her. But this time, the healing hurt more than she anticipated. It was like a burning fire coursing through her veins, and she couldn't help but cry out in pain.

"I'm sorry," Cas said, his voice full of remorse. "Healing deep wounds is always more painful."

She gritted her teeth, holding back the tears as she endured the pain. She knew that Cas was doing his best to help her, and she was grateful for his healing touch, even though it hurt.

As the healing process finished, she felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her, but she also felt a sense of relief. Her father, uncle, and Cas were there for her, supporting her through the pain and fear.

As the night settled in, she found herself cradled in her father's arms, her body still aching but her heart filled with warmth. The events of the day had brought them closer together, and she knew that she would never forget the hurt and comfort that had defined their hunt.

With her family by her side, she felt a newfound strength and courage. She was a Winchester, and they faced the darkness together, no matter how painful the journey may be. And as she drifted off to sleep, she knew that her father, uncle and Cas would always be there to protect her, just as she would be there for them in return.

[jawritter]

Tell me a story about how protective Dean is of those he loves (preferably no death, but its your celebration! You’re the boss.).

Don’t Die Before I Get Back, Jerk.

Warnings: Injured!Dean, Angry Reader, Mild Angst. Language.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Jody Mills x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 552

Jens3Kcelebration    Masterlist    

The constant, increasingly annoying beeping that sounded from the monitor next to Dean’s bed was enough to drive anyone insane, you were convinced of it. Every time that passed, it just got under your skin more and more. Like a constant dripping tap, or a smoke detector with a dying battery. 

“The doctor said he could be out for a while,” Jody reminded you from the small leather couch in the far corner of the room. “Go back to the hotel and get yourself cleaned up, grab something to eat. You look like death warmed over sitting there.”

“Well, thanks for reminding me I look like shit Jody,” you snorted, refusing to take your eyes off of Dean’s sleep relaxed face. You didn’t like the way the fluorescent made his skin look sickly and pale, or maybe that was the blood loose, either way you didn’t like it. 

“That’s not what I meant Y/N,” she said, standing to come and place a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been sitting in that chair all night long with him. Go take care of yourself. He’s not going anywhere for a few days. Doctor said he’s out of the woods, he’s just got to sleep off the meds and regain some of his strength back.”

“I’m not going anywhere until he wakes up, because when he does, I’m going to kick his ass,” you responded, and Sam snorted humorlessly from somewhere behind you on the floor. 

“Not if I don’t kick it first,” he retorted, and Jody shot him her best bitch face. 

“Had it not been for Dean tonight, I would have lost Claire all together. Along with you and Sam and even Garth. If he’d not charged that werewolf, this could have been a lot worse. That’s Dean, we all know that. Self-sacrifice is his middle name.” 

“Yeah, well I’d rather the damn thing kill me than me live and lose him in the process,” you turned and snapped at her. You knew that she was right, but you just wanted to be mad at him for a while. 

“Do you think I could live one second without you either,” Dean’s sleep-dried voice sounded from the bed in front of you, and you jumped, turning back to him to find a pair of pale green eyes staring at you, more than a little tired, but none the worse for the ware. 

“Goddammit Dean Winchester if you ever scare me like that again I’m gonna kill you myself,” you tell him as tears of relief start to track down your cheeks. 

Dean, in all his bravo, winked back at you, giving you the best smirk he could muster. “It’s gonna take a lot more than a werewolf of a pissed off woman to kill Dean Winchester sweetheart, but if you still want to kick my ass I’m open for that. Sounds like fun.”

You narrowed your gaze at him, plotting murder until Sam slapped his hand on your back with a laugh. 

“Welp, he’s gonna be just fine, already trying to get laid. I’m going to take a shower.”

“Fuck you bitch!” Dean called to Sam’s retreated back, and Sam shot him the finger over his shoulder, causing you to shake your head at the pair. 

“Don’t die before I get back, Jerk!”

Forever Tags:

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Jensen and Dean’s Babes

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Jensen’s Babes

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[hellhound-whisperer]

Masterlist; Drabble-ish

Have you seen my flannel? - fluff

I’ll always be there for you - injured!reader comfort

A little guilty pleasure - fluff

Welcome home, sweetheart - protective!Dean, smut implied

Perfection - (for @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​ 500 follower celebration!) fluff

Taking care of my girl - TW: depression, mechanic!Dean, comfort

[saiacross]

Bonds Unveiled

Supernatural FanFic : 7,665 Words : Series: Reader-Insert

Chapter 15: A New Threat

This Work is part of an overarching story that can be read as a one-shot with little overlapping information from other chapters. **This Chapter is a direct continuation of Chapter 14.**

⬅ Chapter 14 The Truths Unveiled 💜 Chapter 16 Tails ➡ Master List

Chapter 15: After the information that was offloaded onto Y/N, the last thing she wanted to do was be in her own head. However shit goes downhill quickly while she and Sam are out on a supply run and encounter a new threat. It's just one thing after another whenever she is around it seems, which often leaves those around her hurt. Y/N of course won't just sit by while she watches them suffer; she WILL save him, she always will. 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 Main Story: Y/N is no ordinary Huntress and when she runs into the Winchesters her life takes a turn. As time unfolds, they get to know each other, rely on one another, and demonstrate they care for one another in their own ways. Y/N's life begins to unravel into her history, present, and what lies ahead. She faces resurfacing fears she believed she'd escaped long ago, aided by the Winchester brothers. Their journey together is one of confronting old horrors and finding newfound strength.

The dimly lit bar provided a shroud of anonymity, a space where Y/N could be alone with her thoughts. Her fingers absently traced the rim of the glass, the condensation cooling her skin as she swirled the contents within. The clinking of glasses and distant chatter formed a backdrop, a distant hum that she barely registered.

Olivia's words echoed in her mind, each syllable etching itself into her consciousness. "Your father, your real father is Susanoo, Japanese God of Sea and Storm." The weight of that revelation hung heavy over Y/N, her world shifting as the enormity of her true lineage settled upon her.

Y/N's gaze remained fixed on her drink, her eyes unfocused as she played and replayed the conversation with Olivia. It was as if the bar had faded away, leaving only her and the haunting cadence of Olivia's voice.

"During his time before Banishment Susanoo took many consorts and had many children. Your mother was selected by Inari for Susanoo, though she was unhappy with the arrangement and tried to refuse. In the end, your mother fled to Earth with the intention of remaining here, raising you in secret. That is when she fell in love with a human Sano."

The words swirled in her mind, a whirlwind of emotions churning within her. Confusion, anger, and a sense of betrayal intermingled, each emotion vying for dominance. Y/N's grip on the glass tightened, her knuckles white with the force of her hold.

The bar around her seemed to blur, the patrons and the clinking of glasses fading into the background as Y/N's internal turmoil took center stage. She was adrift in a sea of revelations, her identity fractured and reshaped by the newfound truths that had been thrust upon her.

"Inari called for the return of all those left and locked the gates, leaving you on earth with the promise that Sano would end his hunt once he was satisfied."

It was like an anchor settled on Y/N's chest, abandoned by the very forces she had been told was a part of her, Y/N's heart ached with a profound sense of isolation. She felt like a pawn in a cosmic game, a sacrifice.

Olivia's voice continued to weave its tale, painting a picture of a destiny intertwined with power and purpose.

"The power Sano seeks from you now is most likely your power when we reach your full potential, being a child of Susanoo and Kitsune it will be great."

With a determined exhale, Y/N downed the last remnants of her drink and raised the glass slightly, a silent signal for the waitress to refill it. The liquid fire burned its way down her throat, momentarily distracting her from the torrent of emotions swirling within.

As the waitress topped off her glass, Y/N's gaze remained fixed on the amber liquid within. The bar's ambient noise seemed to fade into the background, as the conversation started all over again.

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The door's chime resonated through the bar as Dean's determined face appeared, his eyes immediately locking onto Y/N. His voice cut through the air like a sharp command, summoning Sam to his side. The urgency in Dean's tone was palpable as he barked, "Found her!"

With the entry of the Winchester brothers, the atmosphere shifted, the bar's once-mundane ambiance disrupted by their presence. Dean's strides were purposeful, his frustration evident in the muttered curses that escaped his lips. He zeroed in on Y/N's table, each step a testament to his concern and anger.

However, Sam was right behind him, a calming force that acted as a buffer between Dean and the turmoil that undoubtedly swirled within Y/N. Sam's outstretched arm halted Dean's advance, a gesture both protective and cautionary. His eyes, though tense, implored his brother to approach the situation with care. For a moment, a silent standoff unfolded – Dean's resolve against Sam's measured restraint. The air was charged with unspoken tension.

With a shared breath, Dean and Sam slowly moved forward, the storm of emotions lingering in the room. They pulled out chairs and took their seats beside Y/N, a unified front against the complexities that had unfurled around them.

Y/N's gaze remained fixed on her glass, her features a portrait of contemplation and introspection. Her silence was a palpable presence, a wall built of unspoken thoughts and revelations.

No words were exchanged as the trio sat in a heavy silence.

 Sam and Dean's silent exchange was like a dance of hesitation, a wordless debate over who should break the somber stillness first. Sam's gentle urging was met with Dean's stubborn resistance, their unspoken communication revealing a dynamic forged over years of shared experiences.

But before the standoff could continue, it was Y/N who shattered the stillness, her voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade. Her words were a torrent, a mixture of frustration, bitterness, and raw emotion. Y/N's gaze remained fixed on her glass, her vulnerability hidden behind the veil of her words.

"You know," Y/N began, her voice a mixture of sarcasm and incredulity, "the fucked up part of this is that they put it in a book." Her words hung in the air, each syllable weighted with the weight of her revelations.

Dean's brows furrowed in confusion, and he shot a questioning look at Sam, who returned the expression. They were both caught off guard by Y/N's outburst, unsure of how to respond.

Y/N continued, her voice carrying a mix of bitterness and resignation, "The Seers wrote every piece of information about me in a fucking book like some kind of fuck-up fairy tale, and the old woman gave it to me." Her words were tinged with bitter humor, a touch of irony that underscored the absurdity of the situation.

The raw emotion in Y/N's words was palpable, her frustration and anger radiating from her as she laid bare the weight of her revelations. It was as if the dam had burst, and the floodgates of her pent-up emotions had been released.

"It's not enough to find out I was conceived unwillingly by a literal God," Y/N continued, her tone biting, "or that my existence is the reason for tons of suffering in the world, and of course, I'm apparently some kind of freak of nature among monsters." Each word she spoke seemed to carve deeper into the wounds of her reality, the pain and confusion etched into her voice.”NOPE, now let's put it all in a book and send it home with ya!” Y/N drowns her glass full of amber liquid.

A heavy silence followed Y/N's outburst, the weight of her words lingering in the air like a dark cloud. Sam's gaze remained fixed on Y/N, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow.

Finally, Sam's concern broke through as he directed his attention to the glass in front of Y/N. His voice was gentle, a touch of worry lacing his words, "How many of those have you had?"

Y/N's head tilted slightly, her expression defiant as she met Sam's gaze, her ear almost touching her shoulder in a gesture of disdain. She held his gaze for a moment before retorting, "I'm not drunk Sam."

Dean's response was laced with a hint of dark humor, a reflection of his own coping mechanisms, as he quipped, "Yet."

Sam's attempt to reason with Y/N was met with a cold and distant expression as if Y/N had retreated into a shell of numbness. Her eyes, once vibrant and fiery, now seemed dull, drained of their usual spark.

"Look, I know it's bad, alright? But sitting here getting wasted isn’t going to help anything." Sam's voice carried a mix of empathy and frustration, his gaze fixed on Y/N's downcast eyes. He was trying to reach her, to break through the emotional barrier she had built around herself.

Y/N's response, however, was laced with a bitterness that cut through the air like a knife. "Don't give me that crap," she retorted, her tone biting. "I see the way you two put down bottles when shit hits the fan, especially with the whole mark bullshit." Her hand gestured dismissively in Dean's direction, her words a blunt reminder of their own struggles.

The tension in the air seemed to thicken as Y/N's words hung between them, a stark reminder of the flaws and vulnerabilities that existed within each of them. Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, their expressions a mix of surprise and defensiveness. Y/N's words had struck a chord, and they couldn't deny the truth behind her observations.

But Y/N wasn't finished. Her voice continued, carrying a bitter edge as she pressed on, "You two could put a whole distillery out of business in a week."

Dean's patience had worn thin, and he leaned forward with a determined expression, intervening in the tense exchange. Swiftly, he reached over and plucked the glass from Y/N's grip, his voice carrying a stern edge.

"Yes, but the difference is that we can handle our liquor. You, on the other hand, well, I don't want to be cleaning puke out of the Impala tonight." His words were firm, and his gaze bore into Y/N's, a clear signal that he was drawing a line.

Y/N's response was a resigned sigh, her eyes briefly meeting Dean's before she looked away. She recognized that pushing Dean's buttons any further would only escalate matters. The tension in the air was thick, a silent struggle between wills, but at that moment, Y/N chose to relent.

Sam, sensing the need to diffuse the situation, stood from his seat and gently patted Y/N's back. His voice was soothing as he spoke, "Come on, let's get out of here." His words held a touch of reassurance, an unspoken understanding that they were all in this together.

With a reluctant nod, Y/N rose from her seat, her gaze still avoiding Dean's intense stare. Dean, his expression softened but still resolute, tossed some cash onto the table to cover their tab. It was a small gesture, a sign that he was willing to move past the tension and keep moving forward.

The trio walked toward the Impala, each step carrying a weight of unspoken emotions and unresolved tensions. Dean's hand delved into his pocket, fingers wrapping around the car keys. It was then that a voice, unmistakably familiar, pierced the silence, cutting through the air like a blade. "YOU!"

Y/N's head swiveled in the direction of the voice, her heart quickening with a mixture of surprise and apprehension. But before she could fully react, an abrupt, stinging impact jolted her head in the opposite direction. The sharp slap reverberated through the air, leaving a stunned and angered expression on Y/N's face. Her shock quickly gave way to a rising surge of fury, igniting like wildfire once more.

In the tense aftermath of the slap, Y/N's gaze shifted, her eyes locking onto the person who had struck her. The intensity in her stare was nothing short of a threat, a declaration of the storm brewing within her. Sam and Dean moved swiftly, positioning themselves between Y/N and the source of her anguish, Emma, a human barrier to shield her from Y/N’s wrath.

Dean's voice cut through the charged atmosphere, laced with a raw anger that matched Y/N's own. His words were a scolding indictment.

"What the hell is your problem? Did I not make myself clear at the diner?" Dean's towering figure loomed over Emma, his presence an unwavering shield for Y/N.

Emma's tear-streaked face quivered as she looked past Dean to meet Y/N's gaze. Her voice wavered, choked with sorrow and anger, as she uttered her accusation.

"This is your fault! She is dead now because of you!" The accusation hung in the air like a heavy shroud, casting a shadow over the already tense scene.

Dean reacted quickly, raising his hands in a calming gesture as he spoke in hushed urgency, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, keep your voice down." His eyes darted around, ensuring that their confrontation had not drawn unwanted attention. With a careful step, he positioned himself to prevent Emma from reaching Y/N. The urgency of the situation was palpable, the mystery of Emma's claim demanding immediate answers. Dean's voice held a mix of concern and confusion as he pressed, "What are you talking about?"

Emma's glare bore into Dean, an amalgamation of grief, anger, and accusation that seemed to pierce through him. Her voice, tinged with bitterness, cut through the air as she spoke through clenched teeth, her pain palpable.

"My mother is dead because of you. You bring death and sorrow wherever you go!" The accusation hung heavy in the air, a searing indictment that cast a shadow over the already tense atmosphere.

Y/N's gasp was a heart-wrenching sound, the weight of the revelation crashing down upon her like a tidal wave. She whispered Olivia's name, the anguish in her voice mirroring the turmoil within her soul. But Emma's response was swift and cutting, a fierce command laced with a desperate plea. "Don't you dare say her name!"

Sam's expression twisted in confusion as he turned from Y/N over to Emma and Dean, seeking some form of clarity in the midst of the turmoil. His voice was tinged with bewilderment as he spoke, "Wait, we were just with Olivia not even an hour ago."

Dean's resolve hardened, his grip on the situation firm as he took charge. With a brisk motion, he gestured for Emma to head to the Impala. His voice carried an authoritative edge as he directed, "Alright, that's enough. Everyone in the car now."

The Impala became a cocoon of tension as the four of them settled into their respective seats. Y/N occupied the passenger seat, her mind a whirlwind of emotions, while Emma and Sam sat in the back, a buffer between the two sources of contention. Dean's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw clenched, as he navigated the car back to the shop.

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Upon their return, Emma led the group into the familiar sitting room, the air heavy with a sense of impending sorrow. The sight that greeted them was both haunting and heartbreaking: Olivia's lifeless form lay beneath a simple sheet, a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of existence and the weight of their world. The room seemed to hold its breath, the silence punctuated only by the distant sounds of the world beyond.

Sam's gentle voice sliced through the heavy silence, a question tinged with concern, "Do you know who or what did this?" His empathy was palpable, a steady anchor in the midst of the storm.

Emma's response was hushed, her voice carrying a weight of sorrow as she stared at her mother's lifeless form, "I only returned not too long ago and found her. She was already gone." Sam's whispered apology hung in the air, a heartfelt acknowledgment of the pain that filled the room.

Dean's practical nature surfaced as he exhaled a resigned sigh, his words carrying a sense of determination, "Alright, we'll start searching for..." But before he could finish, Emma's voice interjected, her tone heavy with a mix of grief and accusation, "No, just leave. Whatever did this, it's because you were here."

Sam's attempt to reason with Emma was met with her firm resolve, her voice a fragile yet resolute whisper, "Emma, you don't know that and they could come back. Just let us do our thing, alright?"

Emma's head shook slowly, her gaze steady as she repeated her plea, "You can help me by getting as far away from here as possible and don't come back."

A gentle pull on Dean's jacket drew his attention, and as he turned to Y/N, he found an unspoken agreement in her eyes. The trio reluctantly turned away, leaving the shop behind. Outside, the reality of their predicament settled heavily upon them.

Sam's voice carried a note of protest as they stepped outside, his concern evident, "We can't just leave her."

Y/N's actions spoke louder than words, as she opened the back door of the Impala, a mixture of determination and resignation in her expression. She stated the hard truth, "Yes, we can, because she is right." With a resigned sigh, she continued, "Me being here is what caused this. I can smell his scent on the body."

With a sense of finality, Y/N slid into the car and shut the door, leaving Sam and Dean momentarily stunned.

The Impala rumbled to life as the car pulled onto the street, its engine providing a steady rhythm as they embarked on a journey filled with uncertainty and regret. The road stretched out before them, a winding path that mirrored the twists and turns of their tumultuous emotions.

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Sam's footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor of the bunker as he approached Dean's room. The door was already ajar, he found his brother engrossed in a book, his attention seemingly far away. Sam's voice was casual as he leaned against the doorframe, "Hey, I'm heading to pick Y/N up from the Rec Center and then doing a food run. Wanna come?"

Dean's eyes remained fixed on the pages before him, his response lacking his usual enthusiasm, "Nah, I'm good." The tone was absent of his usual bravado, and it made Sam pause, concern flickering in his eyes.

His curiosity piqued, Sam stepped further into the room, his gaze falling on the book in Dean's hands. His eyebrows knitted together as he inquired, "What you reading?"

With a slow motion, Dean closed the book, lifting it slightly to reveal the title. His voice was calm as he answered, "It's, uh, that book Olivia gave Y/N."

Sam's surprise was evident, his tone tinged with incredulity, "You mean that one about her? That's a little personal, don't ya think?"

Dean's hand rested on the cover of the book, his expression contemplative, "Yeah, well, isn't the first time.” Dean was referring to the other book that he took upon himself to study. “And besides, she actually gave it to us."

Sam's eyebrows shot up, his astonishment clear, "What?"

Dean nodded, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes, "Yeah, I was surprised too. But she said she didn't care at this point."

Sam's response was a simple, "Huh." The word held a multitude of emotions—surprise, understanding, and perhaps a hint of respect for Y/N's decision to share her story in such an intimate way. The brothers had encountered countless mysteries and challenges in their hunter's journey, but Y/N continued to surprise them. Sam moved closer to Dean and the book. “So what’s it say?”

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Y/N eased herself into the passenger seat of her sleek Corvette, her muscles still buzzing with the aftermath of the rigorous kickboxing class she had just endured at the Rec Center. It was a Monday routine she had established for herself, a way to channel her energy and clear her mind. The sound of the engine rumbling to life was a comforting hum, and she appreciated Sam's presence beside her for the drive.

"How was class?" Sam's voice cut through the quiet, his genuine interest evident in his tone. Y/N's lips curved into a tired smile as she replied, "Exhausting. I think some of the ladies were hoping you would come in when they found out I got dropped off, though."

A soft chuckle rumbled from Sam's chest, the memory of his previous interactions with the kickboxing class women bringing amusement. He navigated the car smoothly onto the road, his focus shifting between Y/N and the traffic ahead. The tension from the workout already starting to ebb away. As they merged into traffic, Y/N's fingers idly traced patterns on the edge of her seat. "So, what's the plan after we grab food? Back to the bunker?"

Sam's hands gripped the steering wheel, and he nodded, his features thoughtful. "Yeah, that's the plan. I figure we can stock up on some supplies and maybe do a bit of research and see what we can find.”

Y/N nodded as she leaned back in her seat, the hum of the engine and the rhythm of the road lulling her into a sense of calm. Sam's presence beside her was a reassuring, silent promise that she wasn't navigating this storm alone.

Y/N's Corvette was a beauty, a reflection of her personality and style. And today, it was Sam who was driving, a compromise she made with him in exchange for dropping her off and picking her up from the rec center. Of course, Sam didn't need much bribery when she asked him to drive her. Y/N knew she could rely on Sam, his willingness to drive her to the rec center was a small testament to that fact.

Y/N's thoughts momentarily flickered back to the discoveries of the previous day, the weight of her heritage and the revelations about her existence still fresh and heavy. The conversation with Olivia had left her reeling, her mind a swirl of emotions that she struggled to process.

As they cruised down the road, she turned her head slightly to steal a glance at Sam, finding comfort in his steady profile.

"Sam?" The word slipped from her lips almost hesitantly.

“Yeah?” Sam's attention shifted from the road to her, his features a mask of concern.

"Thanks for this. For being here, for driving me.” Truth be told Y/N actually just didn't want to be alone right now, even if that meant sitting in silence while just in another presence.

A warm smile graced Sam's lips, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He knew what she was really thanking for. "Anytime.”

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The sun was making its slow descent on the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the bustling streets. Sam and Y/N emerged from the store, this time only one small bag each. The weight of the bags was still insignificant compared to the conversations they had been having between them during their errand run.

Sam's voice broke the quiet moment as he checked his phone, his expression a mixture of surprise and mild concern. "Man, I didn't realize it was getting this late. We've been at this for a while."

Y/N nodded in agreement, her steps falling into sync with Sam's as they made their way down the busy sidewalk. Her gaze was contemplative as she replied, "Yeah, but it's been a bit since we fully stocked up.”

As they walked, Y/N's senses seemed to prickle, a nagging feeling at the back of her mind. She cast a subtle glance over her shoulder, catching glimpses of a figure that appeared oddly familiar, lurking at a distance. Her voice lowered to a cautious whisper, "Sam, I think we're being followed."

Sam's brows furrowed, his hunter instincts immediately kicking in. He maintained his pace, yet his senses were now finely attuned to their surroundings. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly, his eyes scanning the area discreetly.

Y/N nodded, her gaze flitting nervously between their path ahead and the faint shadow that seemed to keep pace behind them. "Yeah, I've seen him at a couple of the stores we've been to. I thought I was just being paranoid but it's not a coincidence."

A determined glint entered Sam's eyes as he assessed the situation. He steered them both into a nearby alley, the dimming sunlight casting long shadows around them. Sam's voice was steady as he said, "Alright, let's see who our friend is. Stick close to me."

Their steps echoed softly against the alley's pavement, the tension building with each passing second. Y/N's heart raced, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety coursing through her veins She glanced back, catching fleeting glimpses of movement at the mouth of the alley. Her voice, hushed and tense, carried the weight of urgency as she whispered, "He's still out there, Sam."

Sam's eyes darted between the entrance of the alley and Y/N, his jaw set in determination. His hand slipped instinctively beneath his jacket, fingers grazing the familiar grip of his weapon.

Their pursuer, whoever it was, seemed to draw closer, the sound of footsteps growing more distinct. Y/N's grip on her bag tightened, now wishing she had a weapon of her own. Her voice barely above a whisper, she said, "He's almost caught up, Sam."

"Just be ready," he murmured, his voice a low, steady reassurance.

And then, he appeared. A figure emerged from the mouth of the alley, stepping cautiously into the fading light. Y/N's breath caught as recognition set in, her eyes widening in disbelief. The tension that had gripped her moments ago transformed into a whirlwind of emotions, a mix of surprise, relief, and lingering distrust.

"Dean?" The word escaped Y/N's lips in a hushed exhale, her gaze locked on the familiar face before her.

Sam's stance relaxed slightly, his focus shifting from the newcomer to Y/N. He followed her gaze, his own expression a mix of surprise and wariness. "What are you doing here?"

Dean's features held a blend of weariness and concern as he took in the scene before him. His eyes met Y/N's, and for a moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them. "I've been trying to catch up with you guys," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "We need to talk."

Sam exchanged a brief glance with Y/N, his expression hinting at their shared skepticism. "Alright, talk," he replied cautiously, his hand never straying far from his weapon.

Dean began to approach Y/N and Sam while rubbing the back of his neck. Y/N's heart raced as she whispered her realization, "That's not Dean!" Her words hung in the air like a chilling omen, and her senses went into overdrive. Before Sam could react, the man had already drawn a crossbow from seemingly thin air, aimed at them.

But the man didn't give them a chance to comprehend the situation fully. With a quick gesture, he conjured a force that sent Sam's weapon flying out of his grip. Panic surged through Y/N's veins as she watched the pistol tumble away.

The air was punctuated by the twang of the crossbow string sending an arrow through the air. Sam turned to shield Y/N, causing the arrow to find its target in him instead. Y/N's heart froze in her chest as she caught Sam's weight, his body slumping against hers as they fell to their knees.

"NO!" The word tore from Y/N's throat, a raw cry fueled by equal parts shock and horror. The world seemed to slow around her, the alleyway shrinking to a pinpoint of agony.

The man's laughter resonated through the air, a haunting symphony that seemed to mock the gravity of the situation. With an eerie fluidity, he reloaded his crossbow, his form shifting and contorting until his true, malevolent visage emerged. The sight was chilling, a creature borne of darkness and malefic intent.

But Y/N's focus was unwavering, her rage an inferno that consumed her fear. The transformation was both beautiful and fearsome to behold. Her eyes blazed with a fiery red hue, an unmistakable sign of her power. The tails of a Kitsune unfurled from her back, and the very air crackled with energy around her.

No longer did it matter who this man was, whether an imitation of Dean or a sinister being. Y/N's fury eclipsed all doubts, and she was determined to protect Sam at any cost.

In an almost primal display, her tails arched upward, each one cradling a swirling orb of searing flame. The intensity of her power radiated through the alley, a beacon of raw, untamed energy.

With a silence more potent than words, Y/N unleashed her fiery onslaught. The fireballs streaked through the air with purpose, their trajectory unwavering as if guided by an unseen force. A symphony of elements clashed as the man's next arrow met one of Y/N's fireballs, turning it to ash before it could reach its mark.

The other three fireballs found their mark, colliding with the man's form in a crescendo of flames. Y/N's eyes bore into the conflagration, her breaths ragged and her heart pounding. The man's visage contorted in agony as he was consumed by the inferno, his form consumed by the very fire he had faced off against.

Yet, even as the flames danced and the air filled with the acrid scent of burning, a sense of unease gnawed at Y/N. She watched, her fox ears twitching with anticipation, as the flames gradually subsided. There was a lingering tension, a palpable feeling that this foe might not truly be vanquished.

The alley fell into an eerie silence, the aftermath of the blazing confrontation. Y/N's tails slowly settled back behind her, their fiery auras dissipating as her transformation receded. She knelt beside Sam, her eyes still fixed on the smoldering remnants of the man who had threatened their lives.

Sam's groans were a stark reminder of the immediate danger they were in. Y/N's focus shifted back to the wounded man in her arms, her heart clenching at the sight of his pain-stricken face. As her fingers tentatively touched the shaft of the arrow, a chill raced down Y/N's spine. There was something unsettling that gnawed at the edges of her consciousness. The scent that reached her nose was faint but unmistakable – the arrow had been tainted with poison.

Fear gripped Y/N's heart as she looked down at the arrowhead, its malevolent design now more sinister than ever. Her mind raced, analyzing the implications of the poisoned arrow, and a sense of urgency flooded her veins. She brought her stained fingers closer to her nose, confirming the presence of the toxic substance that had been used against them.

"We need to get you back to the bunker, Sam," Y/N's voice trembled with a mix of concern and determination. Her gaze met Sam's, her eyes conveying the urgency of their predicament. "That poison needs to be neutralized."

The urgency of the situation propelled Y/N into swift and decisive action. Carefully she maneuvered Sam so that he laid against her back, and his arms draped over her shoulders His body was completely limp, most likely numb to him due to the poison. It wasn't that Sam was heavy, thanks to her above-normal strength she could lift his weight with no problem, the issue was that he was just so much bigger than her; truly a giant standing at 6ft4in tall and built like an ox.

Gently, Y/N settled Sam into the passenger seat of her Corvette, carefully angling his body to minimize any discomfort from the poisoned arrow lodged in his shoulder. She knew that every movement had to be precise, every action calculated to avoid exacerbating his condition. Sam's form slumped against the seat, his usual vitality replaced by the pallor of pain and the ominous shadow of the poison's effect.

The engine roared to life as Y/N's foot pressed down on the accelerator, the Corvette surging forward with a controlled intensity. The city streets became a blur as she navigated through traffic with a blend of skill and urgency. Red lights were mere suggestions as Y/N weaved her way through the urban labyrinth, her focus singularly directed toward their destination.

Beside her, Sam's labored breathing served as a constant reminder of the perilous situation they were in. Y/N's eyes flicked toward him every so often, her heart heavy with worry. The seconds stretched into minutes, each one a precious thread in the fabric of time that was rapidly unraveling.

As she sped toward the bunker, Y/N's mind raced alongside the Corvette's engine. She wrestled with the enigma of the poison that now coursed through Sam's veins, her thoughts a whirlwind of possibilities and potential solutions. The unknown nature of the toxin fueled her determination, pushing her to think outside the box and consider every avenue of salvation.

The bunker's entrance loomed ahead, a promise of safety and resources that could mean the difference between life and death. Y/N guided the car through the garage doors with a sense of urgency, her fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly. The tires screeched to a halt as she brought the Corvette to a swift stop, the vehicle's engine still humming with pent-up energy.

With practiced efficiency, Y/N opened her door and hurried to the passenger side. She gently helped Sam out of the car, his weight now supported by her once again. The bunker's interior enveloped them in a welcome embrace, the walls seeming to radiate a sense of protection and solace.

The urgency in Y/N's voice was like a piercing siren, cutting through the air and echoing through the corridors of the bunker. Her desperate cry carried with it a plea for help, a call to arms in the face of danger. As her footsteps echoed against the bunker's walls, she moved with a purpose towards the medical bay, her determination unyielding despite the weight of Sam's limp body in her arms.

"Dean! Dean, help!" The words tore through the silence, a raw expression of fear and urgency that reverberated through the air. Each syllable was laden with the weight of the situation, a dire plea that echoed the gravity of the moment. Her voice, usually so composed and strong, now held a vulnerability that spoke volumes.

Dean's response was swift, the sound of his footsteps closing in on the source of the distress call. His presence materialized as he rounded a corner, his eyes immediately locking onto Y/N and Sam. The concern etched across his face was palpable. Y/N's frantic eyes met Dean's.

"What happened?" Dean's voice was a calm and authoritative anchor amidst the turmoil. His eyes quickly scanned Sam's unconscious form, his years of experience as a hunter kicking in as he assessed the situation. Y/N's words tumbled out in a rush, a stream of information mingled with anxiety.

"Poison arrow.. Medbay now." Y/N's sentences were punctuated by the urgency of the moment, each word a testament to the dire straits they were in. Without hesitation, Dean moved to support Sam's weight, his strong arms taking on the burden that Y/N had carried. Together, they navigated the corridors, their footsteps echoing in tandem as they made their way to the medical bay.

The medical bay was a flurry of tension and activity, a stark contrast to its usually sterile and organized appearance. The examination table bore the weight of Sam's form, his groans and hisses of pain punctuating the air as he battled the effects of the poison that coursed through his veins. His sweat-soaked skin and the unnatural hue of his lips and fingertips painted a grim picture of his deteriorating condition.

Dean's presence was a steadfast anchor amidst the chaos, his hands moving with a practiced touch as he tried to offer Sam some comfort amidst the agony he was enduring. His voice was a soothing balm, a constant stream of reassurances.

"You're gonna be alright, Sammy. Just hang in there," Dean's voice carried a mixture of empathy and determination, a vow that they would get through this together. His fingers brushed Sam's forehead, wiping away the sweat that had gathered there.

"What kind of poison is this?" Dean's question was laced with concern, his eyes locked onto Y/N as she worked. Her reply was brisk, her focus unwavering as she addressed the immediate needs of the situation. The unknown nature of the poison serves as a formidable obstacle in their efforts to save Sam. Her directive was clear, a reflection of the urgency that hung heavy in the air. "Remove his shirt and try to get that arrow out."

Dean looked up from Sam's side to Y/N, and the weight of their predicament became even more evident. Y/N's movements were frantic, a departure from her usually composed demeanor. She stood at the nearby counter as she pulled vials from the cabinets, her actions driven by a need to find a solution in the face of uncertainty.

Dean's gaze shifted back to Sam, his heart heavy with the weight of responsibility. Y/N's rapid movements, and her sense of urgency, raised alarms in Dean's mind; this version of her, the one propelled by distress, was a new sight. As Dean began to carefully work on removing Sam's shirt, his hands moved with precision despite the inner turmoil that churned within him.

The medical bay became an orchestra of pain and determination, the dissonance of Sam's agonizing screams intertwining with Dean's careful actions. As Dean worked, his brow furrowed in concentration, each movement calculated to minimize further harm to Sam. But the gut-wrenching sound of his brother's cries cut through him like a blade.

Dean's concerned glances toward Y/N did not go unnoticed. His eyes flickered toward her, his gaze searching for any sign of guidance or hope amidst the chaos as Y/N's hands moved with a focused urgency, the rhythmic grinding of herbs in the mortar and pestle serving as a background to Sam's painful cries.

But what Dean couldn't see were the tormenting shadows that danced at the edges of Y/N's consciousness. As she mixed the herbs with a sense of urgency, her mind was a battlefield, plagued by the haunting forms of Sano and Emma standing next to her.

Their voices were like a relentless chorus of accusation, their presence a heavy weight that bore down on Y/N's already burdened mind. Sano's malicious whispers intertwined with Emma's disapproving gaze, creating a tormenting symphony that played out in the corners of her psyche. Each muttered word, each judgmental look, only to remind her that this was her fault.

Y/N's jaw clenched as she continued muttering her list of ingredients and instructions in an attempt to maintain her composure amidst the onslaught and drown out their voices. Her hands trembled slightly, a subtle sign of the internal battle that raged within her. She wanted to silence the voices, to quell the doubts that clawed at her resolve, but their presence was unyielding, a manifestation of her own fears and guilt.

“Just Shut Up Dammit!” Y/N's hands slammed against the metal counter, the force of her frustration echoed through the room, momentarily drowning out the haunting voices that had tormented her. The suddenness of her outburst caught Dean off guard, a mixture of surprise and worry flickering in his eyes. He watched as Y/N took a moment to regain her composure, her breathing steadying and the spectral figures of Sano and Emma fading into nothingness.

Y/N's breaths came in measured rhythms, her grip on the counter serving as an anchor to the present moment. She then turned and approached Sam with the bowl of herbs, her eyes met Dean's for a fleeting moment, "You might have to hold him still this might be rough.”

“Yeah alright.” Dean hesitantly choked out as his hands shifted from a stance of caution to one of support. He positioned himself beside Sam, his muscles tensed and ready to provide the necessary restraint should Sam's pain prove too much to bear.

“I'm going to draw and extract the poison from his body, forcibly.” Y/N poured a thick paste from the bowl into Sam’s wound. Her hand hovered above the paste, her touch careful not to add pressure to the already wounded area. And then, with a voice that resonated with ancient power, she began to chant:

"Per essentiam Telluris et viribus herbalibus;                                                     "By Earth's essence and herbal might, Hoc corpus emundo, rectum fac.                                                                          I cleanse this body, make it right. Venenum tenaci nunc undo;                                                                                Poison's grip I now undo, Sanatis herbis, mea imbuet illa."                                                                          With healing herbs, my will imbue."

The rhythmic repetition of the words filled the room, each syllable a thread woven into the tapestry of magic that Y/N was casting. Her focus was unwavering, her voice steady even as the weight of the spell began to take hold. The air itself seemed to vibrate with the potency of the incantation, the very essence of the earth, and the healing properties of herbs responding to Y/N's call.

For those present, time seemed to stretch and contract, caught within the confines of the ritual unfolding before them. Y/N's hands glowed faintly with an ethereal light, her connection to the arcane energies palpable. The room was awash with a sense of hope and desperation intertwined, a silent plea for Sam's recovery echoing in the cadence of Y/N's words.

As Y/N chanted the spell, her vibrant red eyes shone with fierce determination. The air seemed to hum with energy, the very essence of the room shifting and responding to the ancient incantation. Dean's gaze was locked on Y/N, his grip on Sam unyielding as he held his brother in place, ensuring that the extraction process could proceed without interruption.

As Y/N's magic surged through the room, the paste on Sam's wound, once a soothing green, slowly transformed into a deep shade of purple, a visual indication that the poison was being drawn from his body. Sam's body jerked and twitched in response to the forceful extraction in his attempts to escape the pain. Dean's arms strained as he held onto Sam. Slowly, ever so slowly, the color began to return to Sam, the pallor of illness giving way to the warmth of life.

With each successive repetition of the chant, the turmoil within Sam began to subside. His body gradually stilled, the wild movements giving way to a quiet surrender as the poison was drawn from his system.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Y/N's chant reached its culmination, her voice carrying a final note of power and resolution. The medbay fell into a hushed silence, the echoes of the spell dissipating into the air. Sam's once-strained form relaxed against Dean's hold, his breaths coming easier, the color returning to his face.

The medbay was washed in a gentle, steady light as the red glow in Y/N's eyes slowly faded, leaving behind the exhaustion that accompanied the exertion of her powers. With the spell's conclusion, the weight of her efforts seemed to settle heavily upon her, her once-resolute posture giving way to weariness.

Y/N's hand, which had been poised over Sam's wound, now tenderly cradled his head. Sam's features had softened in his reprieve, his brow no longer creased with pain but instead relaxed in a peaceful slumber. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm,

“I think.. I think I got it all. He should be fine now.” Y/N’s breath came in ragged intervals as she knelt on the floor, her body leaning against the table for support with her forehead, beaded from sweat, finding solace against the cool surface of the table. Her grip on the edge of the table was the only thing holding her upright, a tribute to the tremendous strain she had just endured. The room held a reverent stillness.

Dean's concern for Y/N mixed with his initial relief for Sam's recovery. He took a cautious step forward, his eyes darting between Sam and Y/N's exhausted form. Seeing her struggle to maintain her balance, he closed the distance between them with a few brisk steps as he reached out to support her. "Easy now," Dean murmured. Gently, his strong arms encircled her waist, providing the stability she so desperately needed.

Y/N's movements were slow and deliberate, her steps carrying the weight of the ordeal that had unfolded. With Dean's support, she managed to find her footing, her body swaying slightly before steadying.

“You still need to dress his shoulder, might need a few stitches. And it will probably be a while before he wakes up, oh and he is gonna feel like shit when he does.” Her voice, though tired, held a sense of purpose as she addressed Dean, guiding him through the next steps.

"Yeah, got it," Dean responded his voice a steady anchor amidst the uncertainty that lingered. He gave a reassuring nod, silently acknowledging Y/N's instructions.

As Y/N turned to make her exit, Dean's hand reached out instinctively to touch her forearm. "Hey after I’m done here I’ll come check on you alright?" he said, his words were gentle.

Y/N offered a weary smile in return, a glimmer of gratitude shining in her eyes as she continued her path toward the med bay door. The weight of exhaustion clung to her like a second skin, but determination and a fierce sense of responsibility pushed her forward. She knew she needed rest, but she also knew that it wouldn’t come easily. Truthfully she just felt guilty and didn���t want to chance breaking down in front of Dean.

Dean's eyes never left her, a mixture of concern and respect woven into his gaze. His demeanor shifted from relief to focus as he mentally prepared to tend to Sam's wound.

Outside the medbay, Y/N's footsteps echoed down the corridor, she was covered in Sam's blood, a stark visual reminder of the lengths she would go to protect those she cared about. As she walked, her thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions, a storm of conflicting feelings that she tried to push aside for the moment.

Y/N's destination was clear—her room. She needed to wash away the physical and emotional residue of the day, to find a moment of respite in the midst of chaos. The door to her room swung open, and Y/N stepped inside, leaving the world outside as she sought a temporary sanctuary.

In the quiet solitude of her room, Y/N began the process of shedding her blood-stained clothes. The fabric fell to the ground in a heap. The shower's water beckoned, a promise of cleansing and renewal. As the water cascaded over her, Y/N let the events of the day wash away, if only for a moment.

With each drop of water that fell, Y/N's thoughts began to clear. She knew that the challenges they faced were far from over, that the journey ahead was uncertain and fraught with danger. But at that moment, as the water enveloped her, Y/N found a semblance of peace—a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still the possibility of healing and strength.

End Chapter 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 This is the Female Reader-Insert Version of my Story, please consider taking a look at the Original with my OFC Saia.

Please comment & 💜

[thedramaticwriter1]

Stitch 'em up

(Dean x Reader)

Summary: An injured Dean comes back from a hunt.

Character count: 2.7k+

Warnings: Blood, a snarky, injured dean

A/N: Didn’t mean to take so long in between posts, sorry not sorry lol

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You sit on the dinning room chair with a cold beer sat in front of you, bouncing your leg up and down. Dean had called about an hour ago to tell you that his hunt was finished and he would be on his way home. The tone in his voice was tight and it had caused your stomach to sour. 

“How bad was it?” You had asked over the phone the second he was done talking.

“Piece of pie, sweetheart. As usual” He replied and you heard him grunt in pain as he attempted to lower himself into the front seat of the Impala. 

“Piece of pie my ass, Dean. I can basically hear how hurt you are over the phone” you replied, your grip on your phone tightening as irritation and worry coursed through you. He had told you to take a break on this hunt and relax at home, he could handle it himself. As usual, he was wrong.

“Hmm a piece of pie and your ass? Count me in” his voice dropping an octave at the suggestion, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

“Not now Winchester. Just get home so I can deal with you” and with that you hung up the phone. 

Another hour you had been waiting for him since that phone call, beer untouched in front of you, starring at the bunker door waiting for him to stride on in. It felt like every minute dragged into a small eternity, each one lasting longer than the one before it. Ages passed by before you heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine and the opening and shutting of its door. 

If you hadn’t known he was hurt before, you knew it now. It took him a solid 10 minutes to walk from the impala to the bunkers’ entrance, normally a journey that lasted a couple of seconds. 

You watched as he slowly opened the door, hope in his features that maybe you had gone to bed already and he could get his ass chewed out tomorrow morning. Unfortunately for him, he’d get it right now. 

His gaze searched the room until he spotted you sitting on the dinning room chair, his whole body slumping in defeat. Like a thief caught in the middle of the night. He wouldn’t even look you in the eye, knowing exactly what he would see. 

Worry. Frustration. Fear. Anger. All of which had an equal grip on your mind at the moment.

“What happened?” You asked, not moving from your spot on the chair and not sugar coating this conversation. 

The instant he heard your tone he knew he was in big trouble, and what does someone in trouble do? They butter up. 

“Sweetheart, have I told you lately how beautiful I think you are?” He responded sweetly, attempting to bat his eye lashes at you while simultaneously trying to hide that he was holding one hand to his obviously injured left side. 

“Dean…” you responded while slowly rising up from your chair. Your voice was low and lethal, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. 

“Seriously, baby. You're the most beautiful woman on the planet..” he says as he smiles at you while attempting to straighten his hunched form. Still he’s trying to cover up his injuries, even though they are plain as day to you. 

“Winchester…” you fling the name at him, half way to him. Already you can see red seeping around where his hand is pressed to his side. Your eyes go wide as you realize he’s still bleeding from an injury he received over two hours ago. 

“Honestly Y/N, I’m the luckiest man al-“ is all he gets out as he attempts to take a step in the direction of the the hallway that leads to your shared bedroom in an attempt to escape your anger and doubles over as his legs give out from under him. 

“Dean!” You yell as you rush towards him, close enough that you're able to catch him under his arms right before he hits the ground fully. 

“Alive” he squeaks out pathetically while still trying to smile up at you. Knees on the ground and still trying to flirt his way his out of this. 

Ridiculous. You bend down so you're able to reposition his arm to hang around your shoulders. 

“Do you think you can walk towards the bathroom?” You question as you try to gauge how injured he really is. 

“Let’s try the kitchen instead” he grunts out. This close to him, you’re able to see that he has no visible wounds on his face, but you wince when you notice his lips are a shade lighter than they normally are. 

“Alright then, on the count of three. Ready? One, two, three…” you haul up as much of his weight as you can onto your own body and you both stand up straight. You stand there for a few seconds hoping he can get his bearings and won’t pass out on you. After you're confident he can make the small journey to the kitchen, you start walking. Slowly, step by step, you two head for the kitchen, you leading the way incase you need to catch him if his legs give out again. 

“I’m guessing you're not gonna let this one slide, huh baby?” He says as you cross the threshold of the kitchen, almost to the table sitting in the middle of the room. 

“Pfft, you’ll be luckily if I ever let you hunt again” you respond. Only half joking, but you’ll deal with that later. “I’m gonna sit you down on that chair okay?” You tell him as you near it. 

“Sitting sounds good right now” he responds, wincing with each step you guys take. You finally reach the chair and you gently help him lower himself onto the seat. You move around slowly so that you're standing in front of him, still holding onto his shoulders to steady him. After some time, once you know he’s stable enough on his own, you turn towards the hallway and make a beeline to the bathroom in search of the first aid kit. It became a habit of yours to always have it stocked with the essentials, even going as far as having Sam create a fake hospital personnel ID for you so you could make your way into the local hospital and steal some of the supplies, knowing you’d use them eventually. 

Rummaging though the cabinets, you finally locate the kit and rush back to the kitchen. Turning the corner, you see Dean resting his head on the table, his hand still holding pressure on whatever wound he has on his left side. 

You reach him and grab his shoulder. “Dean, wake up” you say as you shake him awake, your worry only growing as he takes awhile to wake up. His eyes open slowly at your voice: “I'm not sleeping sweetheart. Just resting my eyes for a little”. You know that's bullshit. Who knows how much blood he’s lost at this point. 

“I need to see the wound, Dean” you say sternly, not trying to give way to your concern, knowing there is a job to be done here. 

“It’s fine baby, I just need a bandaid that’s all” he says as his eyes close again, not even having the energy to look at you while he talks. 

“De, I swear to God, if you don’t show me right now, I’ll let you bleed out on this table” you say, having enough of this shit. You’re tired of him downplaying how serious this was, especially because he needed help. 

“No, you wouldn��t” he says, knowing that there was no way in hell that you would let that happen, but still. You needed to get your point across. He finally opens his eyes to look at you and must see how worried you are, cause his lips turn down into a small, sad smile before attempting to remove his hand from his side. 

“Let me” you grab the scissors from the first aid kit and make quick work of his shirt, cutting down the side near his injury.

“Hey, that was my favorite…” he responds but all protests die when he sees the face you give him. The shirt is the least of your concern. 

Slowly and carefully, trying not to aggravate the wound any further, you peel his shirt off of him and throw it to the ground. You’re finally able to get a full view of it and you're unable to silence the gasp that manages to escape your lips. 

From the bottom of his waist stretching across his ribs and ending right under his arm pit are five deep gashes, each one worse than the last. Staring at his mangled skin, one monster comes to mind that could inflict this kind of damage.

“Damn it Dean, you didn’t tell me it was a werewolf case you were on” you scold him as you assess the wounds. You grab the gauze and hydrogen peroxide from the first aid and you get ready to begin to clean the gashes. 

“Yeah, well I didn’t want you to wo— Son of a bitch!” He yells as you move the gauze you're holding to the first wound, attempting to scrub the dirty and dried blood off. 

“Don’t move or it’s going to hurt even worse” you tell him and you try and hold him still enough with your other hand so you can keep working. Eventually you’ve managed to clean out the first gash and it’s already  begun to leak out fresh blood from the irritation from the gauze. You know you need to work quickly, not knowing how much blood he’s already lost on the drive here. 

One down. Four to go. 

“You try not moving while someone burns your skin off” he retorts, complaining about the hydrogen peroxide your applying, trying your best to avoid infection. You don’t even want to begin to think of how dirty a werewolves claws are.  

“It doesn’t even burn you big baby” you say as he flinches at you when you begin to clean the second cut. 

“I’m not a big baby” he pouts, closing his eyes, trying to concentrate on anything but what your hands are doing. 

“Just save your strength and hush up” you tell him, knowing he needs to save all the energy he has left and not waste it on bantering with you. You continue working, washing the dirt and debris out of the second gash.

Two down. Three to go. 

That becomes your mantra as your mind thinks of nothing else but cleaning these wounds. 

Three down. Two to go. 

You work in silence and Dean doesn’t try to talk again, the pain being too much for him right now. You also don’t attempt a conversation with him right now, knowing that the only words that would come out right now would be filled with anger and fear, and you don’t think you have the stomach for that right now. 

Four down. One to go. 

After an eternity, you are finally able to clean the last gash, now taking a look at the true wounds in their bloody glory. “You’ll definitely need stitches for these, De. They're too deep” you surmise. All he does is nod his head and you know that the pain is getting to him. “You want something for the pain?” You question, and move to the first aid kit when he nods his head. You pull out the painkillers and grab the bottle of whiskey that was resting on the table. “Both will help, trust me” you say and you hand him the pills and open the whiskey bottle for him. 

He’s slow to move, not wanting to injure himself further. He gradually brings the pills to his lips, then the bottle, taking a few good gulps before handing it back to you. 

“Do you want to wait till they kick in before I start stitching you up?” You ask him. He shakes his head slowly. 

“Just get it over with” he responds, carefully laying his head back on the table. 

And that’s what you do for the next hour. Stitch by stitch, you close the wounds that are scattered across his skin. He’s definitely going to have a few scars, but there’s nothing you can do about that now, and it’s not like scars have ever bothered him before. He even revels in them a little, physical proof of what he’s overcome. Half way through you can tell he’s still in pain, but you notice his breathing has gotten more even, his shoulders more relaxed, and you know the pain killers have started to kick in. You breathe a sigh of relief and keep working. Your mind goes blank as you focus solely on what’s in front of you. 

Stitch, blood, stitch, some more blood, stitch, blood.

104 stitches and an empty whiskey bottle later, you finally finish. When he feels your hands lift from him, he stirs a little. 

“You done?” He questions you. He slightly slurs his words as his eyes look up at you with his head still resting on the table, waiting for your response. 

“Yeah I’m done” you respond as you finish dressing the wound. You finally stand up and look down at him. You're still upset at him for downplaying how injured he was, but seeing him now, some what whole and alive, you can’t help the knee wobbling relief that washes over you.

You reach your hand out and rub it through his hair, savoring the way it feels in your fingers. “I am so incredibly pissed off at you right now” you say weakly, but even as the words leave your lips, your eyes begin to water. 

“I know. I’m sorry sweetheart” he responds, dragging his hand up to rest on your hip. “You can yell at me tomorrow, I promise” he says, squeezing lightly.  

Your heart clenches at the gesture, and you smile through your tears. “Alright”, you respond as you wipe at your eyes. “Let’s get you to bed” you say as you move closer to him to help him stand up. You’re careful not to rub against his dressed wounds and grunt a little as you stand up with his arm wrapped around your shoulders. With small, slow steps both of you make it to your shared bedroom. You swing the door open with your foot and he turns on the light with his free hand. You make your way to the bed and gently lower him down. 

“I’m gonna get you out of these” you tell him, nudging at his jeans, eyeing the blood and grime scattered on them, knowing he’ll be more comfortable if he changes. 

“If you wanted me naked sweetheart, you could have just asked” he responds, looking up at you while attempting to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Ha-ha, very funny. I’d like to see you try any kind of move right now” you say, turning and walking towards his dresser, searching for a clean pair of shorts to change him in to. While digging through his drawers he responds: “Oh I have plenty of moves”. You look over and chuckle at him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to move off the bed, let alone do anything else. You walk back to him and begin taking his jeans off. Slowly dragging them down his legs, you search for any other wounds, glad to not find any. Once he’s changed, you help him lay under the covers and get comfortable. He’s already asleep by the time you move to the adjacent bathroom to change yourself. Once finished, you lay down with him. 

You can’t stop yourself from staring at him, memorizing the already known freckles on his face. You reach to stroke the stubble he’s neglected to shave on the hunt, the movement causing him to stir. 

“You know I love you, right?” He mumbles, not completely awake. 

“I know. I love you too” you respond, moving to kiss his cheek. “You’re definitely gonna hear about this in the morning” you add, knowing that an argument tonight wouldn’t benefit anyone. You also were too grateful he was still in one piece to be fully upset with him right now. 

“That’s alright baby. Yell at me all you want. The sex after our arguments is always the best” he says, grinning with his eyes still closed. 

You scoff. “You’re horrible” you say, smiling back at him, knowing he’s exactly right. 

[fatecantstopme]

What I'd Give

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: When Dean is gravely injured on a hunt, (Y/N) makes a deal to save him--a deal that might just cost her everything.

Warnings: canon violence, swearing, mentions of death/dying. SMUT, dom/sub vibes, choking kink, overstimulation, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)

You screamed helplessly as you watched your best friend and fellow hunter be thrown from the window across the room. You'd just managed to stab the demon you were fighting a mere second before you heard the breaking of glass.

You yanked the angel blade out of the demon's chest and ran straight towards the demon who'd just tossed your friend out the window. You stabbed the demon in the back, bringing an end to the fight.

You looked out the window and saw the horrific scene three stories down. Your heart clenched in your chest as you raced to the stairs, making it outside in record time.

"Dean!" you cried as you reached his broken body. "No, no, no, no..."

You were almost afraid to touch him--afraid to search for a pulse and not find one. You exhaled sharply and pulled yourself together, placing a firm hand against his neck. You could feel a very weak pulse beneath your fingertips and you knew he was in trouble.

The fall had certainly broken some bones and he likely had internal injuries of some kind. The glass from the window had sliced his skin in a million places, and you were worried he would have severe head trauma as well.

Normally, you would call out to Castiel and he would come running to save Dean, but this wasn't a normal day. Cas had been missing in action for weeks, and neither you nor the Winchesters knew where he was.

Dean's safety--his survival--depended solely on you. The two of you had been hunting alone, while Sam was out helping Garth on a different hunt. You'd hunted together countless times, but neither of you had ever been this seriously injured.

You knew he was dying--as surely as if there was a neon sign screaming "death!" above his head. You couldn't stand the thought of losing him, so you made a decision that would change your life.

"Anyone who's listening, I need your help," you called out. "Please...I will do anything...just save him."

You waited in silence for a few moments, hoping against hope someone would hear your call and take pity on you. You weren't exactly on good terms with most angels, but you couldn't help but hope at least one of them would care.

You heard the soft flap of wings that always signaled the arrival of an angel and you looked up hopefully. You inhaled sharply when your eyes met the glowing red eyes of the man who had come to rescue you--or should you say, archangel.

"Well hello, (Y/N). It's nice to see you again."

"Lucifer," you hissed lowly.

"In the flesh!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard your call," he said simply. "And well, let's be honest, no one else is coming to help you."

"Did you come here to gloat?"

"Of course not. Even I'm not cruel enough to find joy in the death of Dean Winchester."

"Then why did you come?"

"To save him, obviously."

Surprise lit up your face. Out of all the responses you'd expected, that hadn't been on the list. "Pardon?"

Lucifer smiled darkly. "For a small fee, of course."

"Ahh," you acknowledged. "That sounds more like it. What do you want?"

"Nothing too extravagant."

"Lucifer..." you growled.

"As you can see, this vessel isn't doing so well." He gestured to himself and you had to admit, he looked like absolute shit. "In fact, it's dying...which means I'm in need of a new one."

"Absolutely not," you said instantly. "He would never say yes to you."

Lucifer smirked. "I wasn't referring to him."

Your eyes widened. "I'm not an archangel vessel," you whispered.

"No, but you are a vessel. And I think you're strong enough to contain me long enough to find me a better one."

You swallowed thickly. There was no way you were going to agree to this...you knew what being an archangel's vessel would do to you and you weren't exactly interested in being strapped to a nuclear bomb.

"No," you said firmly.

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "But just remember, Dean's death will be on your hands now."

You exhaled in defeat as you looked down at the man in your arms. You knew he was close to death--no hospital would be able to save him. Lucifer was your only option.

"Save him first," you whispered.

Lucifer smirked, knowing he'd won. "I would, (Y/N), but this vessel is simply too weak. I would need your body in order to save him."

You looked up into his dark eyes and considered his words. "I don't trust you."

"You would be a fool to trust me after all we've been through. However, I need you...and I need Dean alive and well to help me find an archangel vessel. Possessing you is a good motivator for him."

You clenched your jaw as you thought about your options. It took you mere moments to realize you didn't have any. You would rather die than allow Dean to...so your decision was made in an instant.

"Fine," you murmured softly. You looked up at the monster standing before you and exhaled slowly. "Yes," you breathed.

Lucifer wasted no time--immediately exiting his vessel and entering your body, taking over in an instant.

It was painful, feeling his energy within you, and you knew with absolute certainty you wouldn't be surviving this--no way in hell.

To your surprise, you were fully aware of everything happening around you. You could still see and hear--but you had no control over your body in any way.

Lucifer--you--reached out to Dean and touched him. Your palms began to glow and you watched the various wounds on his body heal quickly. His bright green eyes slowly blinked open and he looked up at you in surprise and confusion.

"What happened?" he groaned.

"You got tossed out a window," your voice said, though it was not you speaking.

Dean sat up and rubbed at his head. He looked down at himself, clearly surprised by his lack of serious injuries. "I fell three stories down..."

You nodded.

"How am I not dead?"

You felt your lips curl into a smile--a slightly cruel smile you knew was not your own. "You're welcome."

Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"

Unbeknownst to you, your eyes began to glow red, alerting Dean to the presence of someone else in your body--and there was only one creature you knew whose eyes glowed red.

"Lucifer?" Dean yelled angrily.

"The one and only," he replied.

"How the hell...why are you...where's (Y/N)?"

"Oh she's right here," he said with a smile, tapping the side of your head. "Watching and listening like a little creep."

"Well it is my head, you asshole," you mumbled.

"Doesn't mean it's not creepy," Lucifer's voice hissed inside your mind.

You didn't like the idea that Lucifer could hear your thoughts and speak to you like that...and it made you wonder what else he could see within your mind.

"Everything," he teased darkly.

"Fuck."

"Get the hell out of her body," Dean growled.

"Not a chance, buck-o. (Y/N) was kind enough to invite me in, so I think I'll stay a while."

Dean pulled an angel blade out of his back pocket and pointed it at you. You knew he would never use it if it meant killing you too. It was an idle threat and Lucifer knew it.

Lucifer simply laughed. "You're not going to use that, so put it away."

"Get out of her and I won't have to."

"Oh please, you won't kill her."

Dean's expression remained impassive, but you could see his resolve waning. You knew him too well to miss the small tells. Unfortunately, that meant Lucifer knew him just as well.

"Let's make this easy on ourselves," he began. "Everything (Y/N) knows, I know. Every memory, every thought, every feeling, everything. So put the damn blade down before I have to break your arm."

You could see the anger on Dean's face, but he lowered the blade and slipped it back inside his jacket. "Why the hell did she invite you in?"

"You were about 5 minutes from death and she couldn't save you."

"So what, she called out to you?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"She called out to everyone...I'm just the only one who responded." You felt your eyes glance around in slight concern. "Speaking of, we should probably get out of here, just in case."

Dean nodded and lead the way to the Impala, which was parked a short distance away. You got into the passenger seat like usual and you saw Dean tense up at your proximity. He clearly didn't like the idea of the Devil riding shotgun.

"So why did you heal me?"

"I need your help," Lucifer admitted.

"What makes you think I'd ever help you?"

"I knew you wouldn't, which is why I convinced (Y/N) to let me have her body for a little while."

"Convinced?"

"I may have told her a little white lie--that my old vessel was too weak for me to save you. She didn't exactly offer herself up, but she didn't fight very hard when she realized I was her only option."

"You slimy son of a bitch," you growled.

"I'm the devil, (Y/N). What did you expect?"

"You son of a bitch," Dean mumbled, echoing your sentiments. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"I need to find an actual archangel vessel. I'm getting tired of jumping from vessel to vessel...they keep burning out. It's rather tiresome."

"Well you're not touching Sam, or me for that matter."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he insisted. "I know there are others out there, but I need someone with your connections to help me locate one."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "My connections?"

"Well, Bobby Singer's connections, really...but the best way to him is through you, and the best way to you is through her."

Dean exhaled angrily. You knew he was mad at you just as much as he was mad at Lucifer. You were surprised he hadn't given you an earful yet, even with Lucifer listening in.

"Fine," Dean grumbled. "But the moment we find you a vessel, I want you out of her body. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly," Lucifer answered.

"Now just sit there quietly until we get to Bobby's, understand? I want absolute silence."

"Well that's boring--"

"I can't stand hearing you speak with her voice, okay? So shut up."

Lucifer smirked, but fell silent, deciding instead to annoy you.

"He's mad at you, isn't he?"

"I said yes to you...of course he's mad."

"Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"How you feel about him?"

"I would really like you to shut the hell up now, Lucifer," you hissed.

"But I'm so bored," he whined.

"I don't give a damn and neither does Dean. It's about 2 hours to Bobby's place...can you be silent for 2 hours?"

"Fine," he grumbled. "It'll give me more time to dig around in your brain anyway..."

"Shit--no!"

You tried to shut him out of your mind as best as you could, but you could still feel him rooting around in your head...making himself at home and digging into memories and thoughts and feelings that were never meant to be shared with another soul.

**********

"What an unsightly place," Lucifer grumbled as he--you--followed Dean up the stairs to Bobby's door.

Dean shot an annoyed glare in your direction, but didn't comment.

"Bobby!" he called as he entered the house.

Bobby came into view and offered you both a tired smile. "Hey you two. What brings you to Sioux Falls?"

"We were close by on a hunt and now we need your help," Dean answered.

"Sure. Come on in."

Neither you, nor Lucifer, had said a word of greeting to Bobby, which struck the older man as odd.

"You alright, (Y/N)?"

"Oh I'm just peachy," your voice answered.

Bobby's eyes narrowed at you, immediately noticing your voice was off. Besides, you didn't tend to talk to Bobby like that.

Before Bobby could question you, Dean spoke up. "We need to find an archangel vessel...as fast as possible."

Bobby stared at him for a moment. "Dean, you are an archangel vessel."

"Yeah, well I need one to house the devil--and it ain't gonna be me or Sam."

"Why the hell do you need a vessel for Lucifer?"

Your hand reached out and tapped Bobby on the shoulder. Judging by Bobby's shocked expression, you assumed your eyes were once again glowing red. Bobby quickly took a step back, looking between you and Dean in confusion.

"It's a long story," Dean muttered. "But I don't want him riding shotgun in (Y/N)'s head any longer than necessary, so we need to find him another vessel."

"Preferably before this current one starts to rot from the inside out," Lucifer added.

"Seriously, Lucifer?"

"Well that is essentially what happens, you know. I wouldn't want to damage such a pretty face."

"Oh fuck off," you grumbled.

"Why in god's name would she say yes to you?" Bobby asked angrily.

"To save my life, okay?" Dean snapped. "Look--we don't have time for this. I need your help to find another vessel. Please."

Bobby sighed and crossed the room to his desk, which was covered in books and papers--an organizational system only Bobby understood. He eyed you warily, but he didn't comment on the situation further.

"I assume you know how to find an archangel vessel," Lucifer commented.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me," Bobby responded.

Lucifer sighed and began to tell Bobby what he needed to look for. You ignored the words coming from our own mouth, instead focusing on Dean. You could see how upset he was and it made you feel incredibly foolish. You hated seeing him like this, but you didn't regret your decision. The mere fact he was alive to be angry made this whole thing worth it.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Dean asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"A week or two--maybe a little more," Bobby answered.

Dean looked in your direction, eyeing you with concern. "Will (Y/N) last that long?"

"Might wanna keep it closer to two weeks," Lucifer replied.

"You're lying, aren't you?" you asked quietly.

"Do you want me to tell them the truth?"

You sighed internally. "I think Dean deserves to know."

"A week would be even better," Lucifer said aloud.

Dean stared at you, worry deepening the lines on his face. His gaze traced your face, searching for any signs of deception--or maybe signs of damage.

"Well then," Bobby muttered. "Better get started."

**********

You sat in the corner, feet up on another chair as you watched Dean and Bobby. You could tell both of them were extremely worried, but their focus was on finding another vessel. They didn't have time to dive into their fears for your life.

Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to think he had all the time in the world. He was quite happy to torture you instead of providing the two hunters with any assistance.

"Why haven't you told Dean?" he asked for what had to be the 1,000th time.

"There's nothing to tell, Lucifer. Would you just back off?"

"You're really no fun, you know that?"

"Good. This isn't supposed to be fun for you."

"I can make it fun."

"I'd really rather you not."

"Too late!" he said gleefully.

You could feel him poking around inside your head again, searching for something he could use to hurt you with--or hurt Dean with. You tried to keep him away from your darkest secrets, from the things you'd never shared with another soul, not even Dean. But you noticed it was getting harder and harder to resist him. You weren't sure if it was because he was so strong or if you were becoming weaker. Either way, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer found something he shouldn't.

Unfortunately for you, that moment came much sooner than you'd anticipated.

"(Y/N)--fuck, I mean Lucifer...can I talk to you outside for a moment?" Dean asked suddenly, rising from his chair and heading outside without waiting for a reply.

"Well this should be fun," you mumbled internally.

"I assure you," Lucifer mocked. "It will be."

You felt your body moving, feet heading after Dean whether you wanted to or not.

Once outside, Dean turned to face you, eyes filled with a multitude of emotions you couldn't stand to see. "I want to talk to (Y/N)."

"Oh come now," Lucifer said. "You know that's not how it works."

"I know you can shut up and take a backseat. So that's what I want."

"Hmm..." Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. "You know, I'd rather not. Besides, (Y/N) doesn't really feel like talking to you right now."

"Fuck you, Lucifer. Let me talk to him!"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Ain't happening."

"Somehow I doubt that," Dean grumbled angrily.

"You can doubt it all you want, but I'm the one physically inside her head. I know what she's thinking and let me tell you, it's not very complimentary of you."

"What?" Dean asked in surprised confusion.

"You have no idea what she really thinks of you, do you?"

"Lucifer, what the hell are you doing?" you growled.

He ignored you, instead focusing on his conversation with Dean.

"She's my best friend," Dean responded. "What more do I need to know?"

Lucifer laughed cruelly. "I'm sorry, that's just too funny. You think she's your best friend?"

You could see the look of hurt cross Dean's face for a moment, but he quickly covered it up.

"Sorry," Lucifer said, laughter subsiding. "It's just hilarious that you think she cares about you that much."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"She's tired of you, Dean. She's tired of your stubbornness, your self-loathing, your reckless behavior. She's tired of everything to do with you. She doesn't care about you--not really, anyway. You annoy the shit out of her, but she puts up with you because she feels like she has to."

You fought with everything you had to overpower Lucifer and take control of your mind and body. Not a single word Lucifer was uttering was true and you desperately wanted to tell Dean the truth.

"Stop fighting, (Y/N). You can't win," Lucifer whispered.

"Stop lying to him and I'll stop fighting," you insisted.

"No. I'm simply having too much fun."

Dean's face was impassive to the average person, but you saw through the mask on his face, and so did Lucifer. "I don't believe you," Dean said softly.

"You don't have to believe me. They're not my words. I'm simply relaying (Y/N)'s thoughts," Lucifer said with a shrug. "Haven't you ever wondered how she puts up with all your shit? You're not exactly walking sunshine, Dean. You're one of the most damaged humans I've ever met."

Dean inhaled deeply. "If she hates me so much, why does she stay?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Neither you nor Dean knew what Lucifer was going to say next...and his words cut deeper than you'd expected them to.

"She's in love with your brother," Lucifer sneered.

"Lucifer, no!" you screamed.

Dean's eyes widened and shock settled onto his face. He turned around, his back to you in an attempt to collect himself.

You fought even harder...you needed to get this son of a bitch out of your body. It felt like you were locked inside your own mind with no way out. Lucifer was too strong and the harder you fought, the weaker you became. You quickly realized the more energy you expended, the stronger he became...there was no use in fighting him.

"You're a monster," you whispered.

"They call me the devil for a reason.'"

You didn't bother responding to him. Your heart was aching for Dean and all you wanted was to comfort him. You knew exactly where his head would be at right now and it was killing you.

He'd always compared himself to Sam--at least as long as you'd known him. He seemed to think Sam was better than him in a lot of ways and certainly more lovable. The mere idea that you agreed with that sentiment...that you loved Sam...it would break him and you knew it.

"Sam is better than you in every way," Lucifer added, stoking the fire. "Why would anyone love you when they could have Sam? He's everything you're not...sure of himself, confident, open and honest. Sam is better for (Y/N) than you could ever be."

Dean turned back around, face a mask of impassiveness once again. "Let's find you a vessel so you can get the hell out of our lives," he said in a low voice. "Besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way of Sam and (Y/N)'s love."

If you'd been capable of crying, you knew the tears would be streaming down your face in that moment. Your heart ached in a way you were unfamiliar with and you hoped Lucifer could feel the pain the same way you did.

"Why?" you whispered.

"Why what?"

"Why'd you say that to him?"

Lucifer laughed. "Simple...I knew it would hurt both of you. You're in love with him and if his reaction was anything to go by, it looks like he feels the same."

"We're both helping you right now. Why can't you just be grateful for 10 fucking minutes?" you hissed.

"Where's the fun in that?"

You knew the question was rhetorical, so you didn't bother responding. Instead, you quietly watched Dean walk away and you knew he was going to lose his shit. You could feel it as clearly as your own emotions.

"Let's follow him," Lucifer said happily.

"Let him take his anger out without an audience," you snapped.

Lucifer ignored you and quietly followed after Dean, keeping a distance to avoid being noticed.

Once Dean was farther away from the house and seemingly alone, he grabbed a crowbar from a nearby bench and began to beat the ever-loving-shit out of a junker car.

If you'd wondered about Dean's feelings for you before (and you had), you didn't wonder anymore. It was clear he cared about you in the same way you cared about him and you hated seeing him in such pain.

You wanted nothing more than to go to him, but Lucifer was much happier standing to the side and watching Dean suffer alone.

"Please," you whispered.

"You can tell him I'm a lying bastard if you manage to survive this."

"You and I both know that's not likely," you sighed quietly. "I don't want him to suffer and I don't want to die with him thinking I hate him."

"Pity. Guess you should have told him sooner..."

"Oh fuck off, Lucifer," you growled.

Lucifer's laughter echoed in your head and you hated him in that moment more than you could even begin to express.

**********

"You alright kid?" Bobby asked Dean when he returned to the house an hour or so later.

Lucifer, and therefore you, had returned shortly after watching Dean fall apart. When he'd dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face, Lucifer had gotten bored and left.

"I'm fine," Dean lied. "Do you have any leads?"

"I've put out my feelers to every person I could think of. I'm sure someone will have something for me soon."

"Did you call Sam?"

Bobby shook his head. "I assumed you did."

"Call him and let him know what's going on. I'm going out."

"Where are you going?"

"Yeah, Dean," Lucifer chimed in, "where are you going?"

"The nearest bar. Don't wait up."

You tried to say his name, but your mouth refused to form the word.

As soon as Dean was out of earshot, Bobby turned his attention to you. "What the hell did you say to him?"

"Me?" Lucifer asked, feigning innocence. "Why would you think I did something?"

"Maybe because you're the devil?" Bobby answered sarcastically.

Lucifer smirked darkly. "I may have poked at all of his insecurities."

Bobby groaned. "You're a son of a bitch, you know that?"

"That's not a nice thing to say about my Father."

Bobby just glared at you and rolled his eyes. He got up and left the room and you assumed he was going to call Sam.

"I second Bobby's comment."

"I wear it like a badge of honor."

You knew exactly what Dean was going to do and it was killing you. He was going to drink until he couldn't feel a thing, pick up some random girl, and fuck her senseless--anything to feel something other than the ache in his chest. You knew him better than he knew himself...but in this moment, you desperately wished you didn't. You would give anything to not know what he was going to do.

**********

Three days later, one of Bobby's sources had a lead on a potential archangel vessel.

Dean hadn't spoken to you or Lucifer unless he absolutely had to. It was too hard to even look at your face and hearing your voice was a thousand times worse.

Sam was still out on a hunt with Garth, but he promised to be there to help as soon as he could.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Bobby asked Dean as the two of you were preparing to leave.

"The less people involved, the better. Stay here in case we need more intel," Dean responded.

"I don't like the idea of you traveling alone with Lucifer."

"I'll be fine."

Bobby didn't believe him anymore than you did, but neither of you commented on it--not that you could have if you'd wanted to.

As you/Lucifer and Dean climbed into the Impala, Dean didn't spare a glance in your direction.

"Isn't this fun?" Lucifer asked. "I've always wanted to go on a roadtrip."

Dean groaned. "What are the chances you'll be quiet during this drive?"

"Slim to none," Lucifer said with a smirk.

The response almost made Dean smile. It sounded like something you would say and technically it was your voice. He had to remind himself you weren't really talking to him--every word out of your mouth was Lucifer.

Dean took off without another word and you silently prayed this lead would pan out. You were extremely tired and it had only been about four days since Lucifer had possessed you.

By this point, you were having a hard time focusing on what was happening in the real world. You were in pain and you could feel your body weakening...you were dying and you knew it. You just hoped Dean didn't notice.

**********

By the time the three of you arrived at your destination, you were feeling terrible. You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you'd left Bobby's. In fact, you were pretty sure you'd fallen asleep very early on.

"It's been about 12 hours," Lucifer told you.

"I slept for 12 hours?"

"You're dying," he said nonchalantly. "So you're going to have a harder time staying awake."

"Great," you whispered sarcastically.

"Lucifer!" Dean growled. "You coming?"

"Of course."

Lucifer followed Dean into a building you assumed was an apartment complex. Sometime during the elevator ride, you must have fallen unconscious again, because when you opened your eyes again, you found yourself standing in a nice apartment.

Dean was talking calmly to a young man who looked moderately terrified.

"Is he the vessel?" you mumbled.

"Yes. I can feel it," Lucifer responded.

"Thank god..."

"I'm sorry, you want me to allow the literal devil to possess me?" the young man practically yelled at Dean. "That's assuming I even believe in the devil."

"Look man," Dean said with surprising calmness. "I know I sound insane, but it's all real. We need an archangel vessel and like it or not, that's you."

"What if I don't want to say yes?"

Dean grabbed him by his collar. "Then the woman he's currently wearing will die...and I will do anything to prevent that." His voice was low, barely above a growl.

The young man looked terrified, eyes wide with fear. "Are you threatening me?" he whispered.

Dean straightened out the guy's shirt and gave him a dark smile. "Of course not."

"So I have a choice?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Don't think for a moment he'll give you an option, kid."

The guy looked at you and you felt terrible for him. You understood his fear and apprehension...and it felt wrong to force Lucifer onto him. This kid didn't deserve it.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you mumbled.

"Too late, (Y/N). Dean knows he's an archangel vessel. There's no way he's going to leave without getting him to say yes."

You wanted to respond--to fight, but you couldn't. You were too weak...too tired. Everything hurt too much.

"What's it like?" the guy asked softly.

"Like being strapped to a rocket," Lucifer said snidely.

Dean shot him an annoyed glance. "You'll be fine. You were meant for this."

The guy's gaze remained fixated on you. "She looks like shit...am I going to look like that?"

Dean finally focused his gaze on your face and you saw the fear flash in his eyes. He could see you were dying. Your skin was pale, your eyes bloodshot, dark circles adorning them...your lips were cracked and there were slight lacerations appearing around your forehead and jawline.

"She wasn't meant to house the power of an archangel," Lucifer responded. "She's dying, but the same won't happen to you."

"Will she be okay if I say yes?"

"Yes," Lucifer lied smoothly.

The guy looked like he was contemplating what to do, so Dean spoke up again.

"Look, kid. She's important to me...more important to me than pretty much anyone else in this fucked up world. I would do anything to save her...she's--she's my brother's girl."

You wanted to tell him that wasn't true, but you knew it was fruitless to even try. Even still, your heart ached at his words.

"How long?" the guy asked, directing his question at Lucifer.

"As long as I want. You'll never age, never die, as long as I'm with you."

The guy nodded. "Alright. I'll do it." He stood up. "What do I need to do?"

"Just say 'yes'," Lucifer answered.

"Yes."

A bright white light filled the room and Dean had to shield his eyes. When the light faded, you were lying on the floor and Lucifer was now clearly possessing the young man they'd come to find.

"(Y/N)!" Dean yelled as he raced to your side.

Your pulse was faint and you looked even worse than you had moments before.

"Heal her," Dean demanded.

Lucifer's lips curled up in a cruel smile. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no," he repeated. "I'm not interested in saving her."

"You wouldn't have a vessel without us. You owe her!"

"I'm the devil, Dean. What makes you think I give a damn about debts?"

Dean stared at him, anger and terror fighting for control in equal measure. He stood up and went to lunge at Lucifer, but the archangel simply disappeared, leaving you and Dean completely helpless and alone.

**********

Dean had rushed you to the hospital and was currently sitting in the waiting room, hoping to hear something about your condition.

Sam rushed into the room, eyes scanning for his brother. When he saw him, Sam crossed the distance and wrapped Dean in a tight hug.

"How is she?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dean said quietly. "But it doesn't look good."

"She's strong, Dean."

"I don't think that matters...her body was never meant to house an archangel and she managed to do it for almost a week. She's dying, Sammy."

Sam's eyes filled with tears, but he blinked rapidly to keep them from falling.

Dean's heart ached, seeing his brother look so upset. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a broken emptiness in his soul--a space you used to occupy. But he needed to push past his own pain for his brother's sake. After all...you weren't his.

"For (Y/N)?" a doctor called into the waiting room.

Dean and Sam practically ran in her direction. Dean's heart clenched in his chest as he took in the doctor's sad expression.

"Are you (Y/N)'s family?"

Both men nodded.

"Come with me, please," the doctor said quietly.

They followed her to a private waiting area and Dean's dread increased significantly. "What's going on?" he asked worriedly.

"Please have a seat," the doctor asked, gesturing toward the chairs against the wall. She closed the door before taking her seat across from them.

"My name's Dr. Murphy. I'm (Y/N)'s treating physician."

"I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."

"There's no easy way to say this," Dr. Murphy said gently. "(Y/N)'s injuries are quite severe and she's in critical condition."

"But she's going to be okay, right?" Dean asked hopefully.

Dr. Murphy frowned and shook her head. "Her organs have begun to shut down...it's only a matter of time now. The best I can do is try to keep her comfortable."

"No," Dean whispered. "No, she can't--"

Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, trying to comfort his brother.

"I'm very sorry," Dr. Murphy murmured.

Dean suddenly stood up. "I can't do this. I need--I need air."

He practically ran from the room and Sam got up to follow him, but Dr. Murphy placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I think it's best to give him a moment."

Sam nodded as he desperately tried to push his own emotions away. He adored you, but he knew exactly how much Dean loved you...so he knew how much pain his brother was in right now. It hurt him almost as much as losing you.

***********

Once Dean was outside, he ran around to the side of the building, desperate to be alone for a moment. He collapsed onto the ground, back against the hard stone of the hospital exterior. All of the tears he'd been pushing back for days finally poured out.

He found himself falling apart in public--something he couldn't recall doing before. He couldn't bring himself to care. You were dying and it was killing him. It was all his fault. If he hadn't been so careless, he wouldn't have gotten injured and you never would have had to beg Lucifer to save him.

He knew it wasn't a rational way of thinking, but in that moment, it didn't matter. You were about to become just another name on a never ending list of people who died because of him. He couldn't take it--it was too much.

"I know I'm not exactly on good terms with any of you and I probably don't deserve your help, but I'm not asking for myself. (Y/N) is dying and I can't save her. I'm not normally the kind of man to beg, but I'm on my knees right now...begging for just one of you to find it in yourself to give a damn. She doesn't deserve this. She's the best person I've ever known...so please. Please someone answer me. Please..." His voice was broken by the end of his short speech.

He was desperate and there was nothing he wouldn't do to save her. If no angel would help him...he wasn't above making a deal with a demon. He'd been to hell once before, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you could live.

"Hello, Dean Winchester," a soft female voice said from beside him.

He jumped up quickly, ready to fight if need be. He hadn't even heard the woman arrive, which meant she likely wasn't human.

"Don't worry," she said gently. "I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Aliraphael."

"Aliraphael?" Dean repeated. "I've never heard of you."

She smiled. "You don't need to know my name to know what I am."

Dean swallowed thickly. "Why did you come?"

"You prayed for help. I answered."

"But why? We don't know you...what would make you wanna help us?"

Aliraphael smiled. "You, your brother, and (Y/N) have sacrificed much for this world and all of the people in it. I think you deserve a miracle."

Normally Dean wouldn't believe her, but there was something in her eyes that made him feel safe. He was inclined to trust her, but he had to be sure. "What do you want in return?"

"Nothing. This is my gift to you."

"Nothing is free."

"I understand why you may be jaded, but sometimes a gift is simply a gift. This is one of those times."

Dean nodded. "I'm choosing to trust you, but just know if you betray me, I will kill you."

She smiled. "I would expect nothing less of the great Dean Winchester."

Dean led Aliraphael into the hospital and his eyes scanned the waiting area for Sam. He wasn't there, so Dean assumed he'd gone to your room.

"Excuse me. Can you tell me what room (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is in?" Dean asked the receptionist.

The woman typed on her computer without looking up and muttered, "Room 212."

"Thanks," Dean replied. He tried to walk slowly--normally--to room 212, but every instinct in his body was screaming for him to get to you as quickly as possible.

When Dean entered the room, he saw Sam standing beside your bed, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. He was speaking softly to you and Dean felt that ache in his chest intensify.

"Sam," Dean said softly.

Sam turned towards the door, eyes red from his tears. He looked between Dean and Aliraphael in confusion. "Who's she?"

"I am Aliraphael," the angel responded. "I am here to heal (Y/N)."

Sam cut Dean a look. "What did you do?"

Dean shrugged. "I prayed. She came."

"Okay, but what did you promise her in exchange?"

"Your brother has promised me nothing. I am doing this because I wish to. I have no ulterior motive."

Sam still looked worried, but he stepped back to allow Aliraphael access to your bed. Aliraphael gently placed her hand against your forehead and closed her eyes. A soft white glow began to envelop your body and your skin began to return to normal.

After several moments, Aliraphael dropped her hand from your head and turned to Sam and Dean. "It is finished."

You started to stir in the bed and Dean's heart beat faster.

"She will awaken in a moment," Aliraphael assured them.

"Thank you," Dean whispered, unable to take his eyes off your face.

Sam echoed his brother's statement and Aliraphael smiled.

"You are all very welcome." With that, the angel disappeared as if she had never been there.

You groaned softly and your eyes slowly opened. You blinked rapidly trying to clear them and focus on the room around you.

"I have to go," Dean muttered.

"What?" Sam asked in surprise, but Dean had already exited the room.

"Sam?" you asked softly, hearing the younger Winchester's voice.

"Hey, (Y/N/N)," he murmured. "I'm here."

Your bright (y/e/c) eyes focused on his face. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

You thought about it for a moment and the memories of the past few days came flooding back. "Lucifer..." you whispered.

Sam sighed and nodded. "Yeah."

"I was dying, Sam--I felt it. Why am I not dead?"

"Dean prayed...and some angel we'd never met before came to save you."

Your eyes widened. "Dean...where is he? I need to talk to him."

"He was just here, but when you started to wake up, he bolted."

"Shit," you murmured. "We need to go after him."

You started to sit up and tug at the IV in your arm, but Sam stopped you.

"Woah! Woah! Slow down, (Y/N). You were almost dead not even five minutes ago."

"And now I'm not, so we need to get the hell out of here Sam," you insisted.

Sam sighed. He knew better than to fight you, so he simply helped you remove your IV and untangle you from the web of other tubes and wires. He handed you your clothes and turned around so you could get dressed in privacy.

"Alright, let's go," you said as soon as you were dressed.

*********

When Dean left the hospital, he'd taken the Impala and started the long drive back to Lawrence. He just wanted to get home before you and figure out what his next move was. If you and Sam were going to be together...he didn't want to be there to witness it. He couldn't.

Dean's phone had rang several times, but he hadn't answered. Most of the calls were from you and a few were from Sam, but he couldn't handle hearing your voice right now. Especially if you were going to tell him everything Lucifer had said was true.

"He's still not answering his damn phone," you muttered, throwing the phone onto the dash angrily.

"I just don't get why he'd leave like that," Sam said for the fifth time.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. "Lucifer said some things to him, Sam...things that hurt him deeply. None of it was true, but Dean doesn't know that."

"What kind of things?"

"Things about me...about how I feel. And about you," you admitted quietly.

"(Y/N), just tell me."

"Lucifer told Dean I couldn't stand him and the only reason I hung around was because I'm in love with you."

Sam scoffed. "And Dean believed him?"

"You didn't see his face, Sam...he believed every word. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't overpower Lucifer."

"Shit," Sam mumbled. "He's a goddamn idiot if he thinks you love me more than him."

You laughed dryly. "Lucifer played on Dean's insecurities and unfortunately, it worked."

Sam sighed. "Where do you think he'd go?"

"I have to hope he went home."

"Then let's get there before he does." Sam sped up, flooring the stolen car like he'd--well, like he'd stolen it.

You were about five hours from Lawrence and Dean had a head start. You knew it was unlikely you'd get there first, but you had to hope you could get there before he left.

**********

When Sam pulled into the Bunker's garage four and a half hours later, you were relieved to see the Impala parked where it should be. Dean would never leave without his beloved car, which meant he was still there.

Both you and Sam practically ran into the Bunker, calling Dean's name.

The green eyed hunter heard your voices, but he ignored both you and Sam. He couldn't face you...he just couldn't.

"Dean? Where are you?" you called again.

"Come on, Dean. We know you're here," Sam said in annoyance.

You headed into the kitchen and Sam went down towards Dean's bedroom. Both of you hoped to find him before he managed to sneak his way out.

Sam entered his brother's room without knocking and sighed in relief. "Dean. There you are."

"Sam," he said curtly.

"Why the hell did you leave? And why didn't you answer our calls?"

"I just needed to get out of there."

"What, before (Y/N) woke up?" Sam's tone made it clear exactly how stupid he thought his brother's actions were.

"Look man, I'm glad she's okay, but I can't face her. I don't want to have that conversation."

Sam decided to play dumb. "What conversation, Dean? The one where she thanks you for saving her life? Or where you yell at her for saying yes to Lucifer in the first place? Cuz trust me, we had that conversation already."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Sam," Dean said quietly as he started to pack his duffle. "But it doesn't matter. I'm leaving."

"Why the hell are you leaving?"

"I can't stay here. I can't--I can't see the two of you together," he whispered.

"Together?" Sam asked incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's fine, Sam. I know."

"There's nothing to know!"

Dean glared at his brother and shook his head. "I saw you at the hospital...you clearly feel the same as she does."

"Yeah I do!" Sam yelled. "She's my friend--she's family!"

Dean was about to snap back another retort, but Sam cut him off.

"Just talk to (Y/N), Dean. Let her explain...you owe her that much."

"I don't want to talk to her."

"I'm not going to give you a choice," you said from the bedroom doorway.

Both men turned to look at you in surprise. You crossed your arms and stood firm.

"I don't want to talk," Dean said quietly.

"Good. I don't want you to talk, Dean. I want you to listen." You turned your gaze to Sam and gestured with your head for him to leave the room.

He gladly exited, not wanting to be a part of this particular conversation.

You closed the door behind him and continued to stand in front of it, afraid Dean would try to leave if you moved.

"Lucifer is a liar, Dean. I shouldn't even have to say that. He's the devil, for crying out loud. He's kinda known for his lies."

"But he's also been honest with us before," Dean countered.

"Only when it benefited him. Just like he lies when it benefits him. Hurting you? Hurting me? That shit brought him joy."

"Really? Did it hurt you to hear him tell me how you really feel about me?"

"No," you said angrily. "It hurt me to hear him lie to you about how I feel! The things he said were cruel and terrible, but more importantly, they weren't true!"

Dean stared at you silently, clearly not believing a word you said.

"Do you really think I'm capable of lying to you for years? Think of every moment we've spent together, Dean...do you really think I pretended to care about you? Pretended to enjoy spending time with you? Think about all the times we've laughed together, the times we've had each other's backs, the small glances, the whispers in the dark when one of us had a nightmare. Think about all of those moments and then look me in the eye and tell me it was all a lie."

Tears filled his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same expression was reflected in your own. You took a step towards him, desperately wanting to touch him, but afraid it be unwelcome.

"You're my favorite person in the world, Dean Winchester. You. Not Sam, not Bobby, not Jodi...you. You hold my whole heart in your hands...you always have. If you don't want it, then I understand, but don't for a second think I love anyone but you."

His lips parted in surprise. "But what about Sam?" he whispered.

You sighed loudly. "Weren't you listening? Sam is my friend, Dean, but nothing more than that. I love him like a brother." You took another step towards him. "He doesn't compare to you--he couldn't compare to you. I love you, Dean...and I don't mean like a brother."

Dean inhaled deeply. "I want to believe you, (Y/N/N)..."

"Then believe me," you begged him. "I love you."

Dean thought about what Lucifer had said and he realized why he'd believed it so easily. They were all things Dean was afraid of...he knew he wasn't good enough for you and he was terrified you knew it too.

"Talk to me, Dean," you whispered, taking a final step towards him.

He looked deep into your eyes and found nothing but love there. The same love he held in his soul for you. "I've always been afraid to tell you how I feel because I know I'm not good enough for you," he admitted. "That's why it was so easy for me to believe Lucifer's lies...it was almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I couldn't believe you'd ever want me, so it was easier to believe you wanted Sam. He's better for you in every way."

"Stop," you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. "I decide who is best for me and I choose you. I will always choose you."

"(Y/N)," he whispered.

You pressed your lips against his, trying to infuse it with all of the love in your soul. Dean's arms wrapped around your thick waist, pulling you closer to him. He deepened the kiss, lips hungrily devouring yours.

You stayed locked in each other's embrace for what felt like an eternity. Your tongues fought for dominance and your hands caressed any part of each other they could reach.

When the kiss inevitably broke so the two of you could breathe, Dean laid his forehead against yours. "This might go without saying, but I love you too, (Y/N). So goddamn much."

You chuckled breathlessly. "After a kiss like that, I'd sure as hell hope so."

He grinned and tugged you even closer to him. His lips pressed against yours again and he found himself wanting to feel every part of your soft body. He needed it, just as much as needed air to breathe.

"Let me show you how much, baby," he whispered against your lips.

"Please," you moaned softly.

“Strip for me, pretty girl,” he commanded.

You gently pushed against his chest, forcing him back against the bed. He dropped down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving your body.

You slowly began to remove your clothing, taking much longer than you needed to. You were teasing him and he was eating it up.

You finally got down to just your bra and panties, nothing fancy as you obviously weren’t planning on this happening, but Dean didn’t seem to care. In fact, you were about to be very glad you didn’t wear anything nice.

“You are so damn beautiful, baby,” he whispered.

You offered him a warm smile, appreciative of the affection in his gaze. He thought you were a goddess among humans, a treasure to behold.

“I think you’re a bit overdressed, Dean,” you teased softly.

“You know, babe, I think you’re right.” He stood up and shed his layers significantly faster than you had. He was extremely impatient, as he was dying to get his hands on you.

You admired his broad chest, thick arms, and sculpted form. He looked incredible, scars and all. You felt the strong urge to kiss every single one of them, if he would allow you.

He now stood before you in nothing but his boxers, his large erection straining against the thin fabric.

“Let’s get this off you,” he muttered, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra.

The moment your breasts were exposed to his gaze, he let out a low groan. “Fuck, baby. These are even better than I’d imagined.”

“You imagined my—“ your question was cut off by the feeling of his lips wrapped around your nipple and his hands caressing your breasts gently.

The gentle movements quickly turned more intense, and he began to truly knead and nip at your flesh. You moaned softly and gently ran your fingers through his soft hair.

You pressed yourself even closer to him, feeling his bulge press against your abdomen. He lifted his head with a small smirk.

“Impatient, are we?”

You nodded quickly.

“Oh come on now, sweetheart. Use those words for me. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” you whimpered. “I want you.”

His smirk widened. “I figured that much out on my own, darlin'. I want you to tell me what you need.”

You weren’t exactly accustomed to expressing yourself verbally in the bedroom. To be honest, a lot of your past experiences weren’t that great anyway. A lot of one night stands with men who only cared about their own pleasure.

You found yourself feeling kind of excited at the prospect of a man listening to you and what you wanted…even more so because that man was Dean.

“I want you on your knees, handsome,” you said firmly.

Dean’s eyes widened slightly, but he dropped to his knees obediently. His normally bright green eyes were dark with lust as he locked eyes with you.

You loved the powerful feeling you had as you stood over him. The great Dean Winchester, on his knees for you.

You touched his face sweetly and he leaned into your palm, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Do you wanna eat my pussy, Dean?” you whispered.

His eyes shot back open, a hungry expression on his face. “Yes,” he breathed lowly.

“Then get to work,” you commanded softly.

Dean was used to being in charge in the bedroom and it wasn’t often he found himself submitting to a woman. You were different than any woman he’d ever been with before—after all, he loved you. If you told him to do a damn handstand naked, lick your feet, and call you “your majesty”, he would have done it in a heartbeat.

His calloused hands slowly slid up your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh. His mouth followed, leaving sloppy kisses as he worked his way closer to your core.

“Baby?” he asked softly, glancing up at you.

“Hmm?”

“Do you have any particular attachment to these panties?”

“No, why—Dean!” you gasped as he ripped your underwear in half, tossing the remains to the floor.

He grinned and made a happy little noise deep in his throat before kissing your mound. He grabbed your right leg and tugged it up over his shoulder, giving him better access to you.

“Lean on me for support, beautiful. I got you.”

The moment you laid a hand on his shoulder and he was sure you were stable, he dove into your pussy with a deep growl.

Your head fell back in ecstasy and a series of moans left your lips. The hand not holding onto his shoulder immediately wound itself in his hair, holding on for dear life.

“Dean—feels so good,” you moaned.

His hands dug into your ass cheeks in response, tugging you even closer to him. He never wanted to stop—hearing those sweet sounds you made mixed with the heady taste of your sweetness was more intoxicating than any drink he’d ever had.

Your legs had begun to tremble and Dean’s grip on you tightened. He wasn’t willing to stop his ministrations, but he wouldn’t let you fall either.

Your nails scraped against his scalp and his shoulder as you clung to him. The pleasure was almost too much and not enough all at once, and you felt your orgasm approaching.

“Dean,” you gasped. “I’m so close.”

He smiled against your core and shifted his focus more heavily to your clit. You cried out and cursed softly, and he knew he’d made the right move.

“I—oh god,” you cried as your orgasm washed over you.

Dean lapped up everything you had to offer, his grip on your body never loosening. As you began to come down from your high, he slipped his hands up to your hips to ensure he didn’t drop you.

He gave your pussy one last lick before allowing you to pull him up by his hair. To his surprise, you mashed your lips against his hungrily, not giving a damn that he tasted like you.

One hand tangled into your hair and the other held you tightly. “What do you want me to do now, sweetheart?” He murmured against your skin.

“Take control, Dean,” you begged. “Make my legs shake. Make me scream. I don’t wanna be able to move for hours.”

“Holy fuck,” he groaned. “Who taught you to talk like that, baby?”

You smirked. “It comes naturally with you.”

"Well it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard," he murmured.

His strong arms wrapped around your waist and gripped you tightly. He spun you both around so your back was to the bed. He pulled you up into his arms and tossed you onto the bed.

You gasped in surprise, not used to being manhandled in such a manner. You sat up slightly, resting on your elbows as you looked at the gorgeous man in front of you. You curled one finger and beckoned him towards you with a smirk.

He quickly discarded his boxers and dropped onto the bed, crawling slowly up your body. He dropped kisses onto your skin as he moved, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

When he reached your mouth, you reached up and grabbed the hair at the base of his neck, tugging him down to you. Your kiss was hungry and needy, leaving no question as to what you wanted.

As the kiss deepened, Dean shifted his body to touch your soft curves. In doing so, the tip of his cock brushed against your pussy, eliciting soft moans from both of you.

Dean's hands traced softly up and down your sides, relishing the feeling of your skin against his. "I love touching you," he murmured in your ear. "You're so damn soft."

You smiled and turned your head to nip at his jaw. He groaned and turned his attention back to your soft lips, sucking the bottom one between his teeth and biting down gently.

Much like Dean, you loved touching his body, but you reveled in the firmness of his body beneath your hands. Every time he moved, you could feel his muscles tense and shift. His body was powerful and beautiful--a vessel carrying the most incredible soul you'd ever known.

Dean shifted again, nudging your head to the side so he could suck at your neck, leaving love marks on the sensitive skin. You lifted your hips up slightly, seeking some kind of friction to relieve the ache between your legs. Once again, his cock brushed against your core and you gasped lightly. Dean, on the other hand, bit gently into your neck to suppress a loud moan.

"I can't wait any longer, baby," he groaned.

"Take me. I'm yours," you whispered.

He sighed softly, kissing you sweetly before pulling away. "Roll over for me, sweetness. Hands and knees."

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you rolled over immediately. You lowered your upper body to lay flat against the mattress, ass high in the air.

"Holy shit," Dean murmured as his hands grasped your large, round ass. "Who said you could have an ass this incredible? I can't wait to watch it jiggle while I fuck you senseless."

Before you could respond, he smacked your ass with an open palm, causing you to gasp slightly.

He seemed to realize belatedly that he should have asked if you were okay with that before doing it, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined smacking your ass for years. "Is that okay, baby?"

"More, please," you begged softly.

He smacked your ass again with a grin. "You like that?"

"Harder, Dean," you moaned. "Like you mean it."

"Fuck," he groaned, hand coming down against your cheek again.

Each time you moaned loudly, reaffirming your enjoyment of the action. Your pussy clenched around nothing and you were beyond desperate for him to just fuck you already.

"Dean, I need you--please," you cried desperately.

"Where do you need me, baby?"

"Inside me," you whimpered.

Without warning, you felt one of Dean's thick fingers enter your pussy. "Like this?"

You shook your head rapidly.

"Words, babe," he said firmly.

"I want your cock, Dean."

"Yeah? Tell me where."

You turned your head to look at him as best as you could from your current position. "I want you to fuck my pussy with your big, thick cock...please," you pleaded softly.

Dean blinked rapidly and licked his lips. He pulled his finger out from inside of you and sucked your juices from it. "Yes ma'am," he murmured.

He leaned forward and kissed your cheek where he'd left a red mark from his slaps. You turned your head back around, forehead against the mattress, preparing yourself for what would come next.

Dean gripped his cock tightly, stroking it a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He started to enter you and you gasped at the stretch. It was painful given his larger than average size.

"I've got you, baby," he whispered, running his hands up and down your back in a soothing manner. "Just relax for me."

You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body as much as you could. When he felt the tension leave you, he continued to push forward.

You'd never felt so full before and the pain had begun to subside into pleasure. "You're so big," you mumbled.

Dean smirked and chuckled softly. "I'm not all the way in yet, sweetheart."

"What?!" you gasped in surprise.

He pushed the rest of the way in, bottoming out so deep inside you, you swore you could feel him against your cervix. "Fuck!" you yelped.

Dean continued his soothing hand motions on your hips as he allowed you the time you needed to adjust to his size.

While you appreciated his gentleness, you desperately needed him to fuck you. Instead of telling him what you wanted, you moved your hips forward slightly before slamming back against him so your ass pressed firmly against his lower abdomen.

Dean's blunt nails dug into your hips and he growled lowly. "Fuck, baby."

His hips snapped forward and he held you in place by your hips. He set a brutal pace, unable to move slowly--it felt way too damn good.

Dean was completely mesmerized by your ass, watching it jiggle as he fucked into you forcefully. He slapped the opposite cheek from the one he'd hit earlier and you cried out in pleasure, pussy clenching around him.

"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetness," he moaned. "Tightest pussy I've ever had."

You couldn't formulate a good response to his words as you were already too far gone. His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, making your legs shake and your head fog up.

"Made for me, weren't you baby?"

"Mhmm," you hummed.

Dean smiled, knowing you were overwhelmed with pleasure and unable to respond properly. He leaned forward and grabbed a handful of your hair at the base of your neck. He tugged back slightly--just enough to cause a little pain without truly hurting you.

His thrusts were almost violent, they were so fast and hard. He wanted to feel you come apart on his cock and he knew you were close.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he whispered.

You simply whined desperately.

"What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."

"More," you begged.

"Hmm," Dean hummed. He slipped an arm around your waist and tugged you back against him so you were sitting up as he continued to thrust into you.

One hand slid up to your neck, wrapping around your throat and applying just a tiny bit of pressure to gauge your reaction. His other hand moved slowly towards your core, seeking your clit for added stimulation.

"Dean!" you cried.

He bit into your shoulder. "I'm here, baby. I want you to fall apart for me."

He rubbed at your clit quickly, thrusts slower due to the new position, but nevertheless pleasurable.

You needed just a little more to push yourself over the edge, so you gripped his hand around your neck and put more pressure on it, indicating what you needed.

Dean got the hint and tightened his grip on your throat, just enough to push you over the edge. He didn't want to hurt you--he would never hurt you.

"Cum for me, sweet girl," he murmured in your ear.

You cried out as your second orgasm crashed against you and your pussy tightened almost painfully around Dean's cock. He helped you ride out your high before lowering you back to the bed and rolling you over onto your back.

He was immediately on top of you, thrusting into you more slowly. He put one arm on either side of your head to support himself, effectively trapping you beneath him.

He rolled his hips against you, the motion pressing his pelvis against your clit, causing you to whimper in pained pleasure. Your hands found purchase in his upper back, nails digging in as he repeated the action.

"I love your body, baby," he whispered. "So fucking perfect."

You smiled up at him, pulling him down for a heated kiss. "I like it too," you mumbled. "Yours isn't bad either."

He chuckled lightly, kissing you lovingly. "I wanna see you come apart for me, (Y/N). Can you give me one more?"

Your eyes widened. "I don't think I can..."

"I bet you can, sweetness." He grabbed your hips and pulled your legs up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. He began to thrust in earnest again and your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips.

Dean closed his eyes, focusing on pulling at least one more orgasm from you and keeping his own at bay. The way you were squeezing him made it a hell of a lot harder than he would like.

The harder his thrusts, the tighter you seemed to grip him, and the deeper your nails dug into his back. He knew he was going to have some serious gashes on his back, but he intended to wear them with pride.

"Come apart for me, baby. Let me feel you soak my cock," he begged.

"Dean," you groaned.

"Come on, my love--let go."

Your eyes fluttered closed and your body began to shake as waves of pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. You came for the third time that night, cries of pleasure mixing with Dean's moans of encouragement.

You started to come down from your high, body overly sensitive from the onslaught of pleasure that continued. "Dean, too much!" you gasped.

"Just one more," he begged.

"I can't!" you whimpered.

"Please baby--one more. Need it," he continued to beg.

You didn't think it was possible for you to cum again, but you began to feel a new sensation in your abdomen. It felt similar to the familiar tightening coil that signified an oncoming orgasm, but it was infinitely more intense. You weren't even sure if it was pleasure or pain--the feeling was simply too overwhelming to comprehend.

"Dean--I can't--" you gasped in confusion.

His hand slid between your bodies to gently massage your clit and you suddenly couldn't breathe. You began to writhe beneath him, hands gripping at the sheets to try and ground yourself.

Dean knew you were about to come undone again, so he didn't slow any of his motions. "Look at me, baby."

Your eyes met his for no more than a moment before your vision became blurry. You screamed his name as you came for a fourth and final time. The feeling was so incredible, you couldn't even begin to describe it.

Your vision began to return to normal as you desperately tried to catch your breath. You were practically limp beneath him as Dean began to chase his own orgasm.

He tucked his head into the crook of your neck and murmured soft words of praise against your skin. "Feels so good--squeezing me perfectly."

He kissed your neck as his thrusts became more erratic. "I'm gonna fill up this pretty little pussy, sweetness. Gonna cum for you."

You managed to press a kiss into his shoulder and wrap your arms around him, hands clutching his back. "Fill me up, Dean," you whispered encouragingly.

Dean groaned lowly. "This pussy is mine, baby. You hear me? Mine."

"Yours, Dean. Only yours."

"Oh--fuck--" he groaned. "(Y/N)!"

His hips began to stutter, thrusts faltering as he filled you up with his seed. He whispered your name like a prayer as his movements began to slow to a halt. You clung to him tightly as he came down from his high.

He finally collapsed on top of you, completely spent and breathless.

You rubbed his back soothingly, lips pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder and neck. As the two of you laid there quietly, you began to notice the bedding beneath you was particularly wet--more so than you had expected it to be.

"I love you so much," Dean whispered, lips pressed softly against your jaw.

"I love you too, baby," you said sweetly.

Dean began to lift himself up, each movement making you gasp--body too overstimulated to handle any motion.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he murmured softly.

"I'm not complaining," you assured him.

He grinned slightly as he pulled himself up completely, softened member sliding out of your excessively wet pussy.

He looked down at the bed and his grin widened. "We made quite the mess, baby."

"Yeah, it feels a little...wetter than normal."

He chuckled softly. "That's probably because you squirted, (Y/N/N)."

You gasped, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. You realized that must have been the result of the most intense orgasm of your life. "I did?!"

Dean noticed your discomfort and immediately reassured you. "Yeah, sweetness--and it was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."

You bit your lip and looked up at him. "Really?"

He grinned. "Really."

"I've--uh--well...I've never squirted before," you admitted.

His chest puffed up with pride. "I'm honored to have been the first--and the last." He added a wink for emphasis.

You smiled softly. "Maybe don't make it a regular thing...I literally can't move."

Dean laughed. "Don't worry, babe. I'll take care of you."

You watched the handsome man cross the room and go into the bathroom, emerging several minutes later with two washcloths. He gently picked you up, moving you to the other side of the bed where it was dry. From there, he very gently began to clean you up with the warm washcloths.

You were moved by the loving way he took care of you, making sure you were clean and comfortable before leaving the room in search of another set of sheets.

When he returned, you found you still couldn't move, but Dean didn't seem to mind. "I can change the sheets with you in them, (Y/N)."

"But--"

"Hush," he insisted as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

He made quick work of removing the sheets on the other half of the bed and putting the clean sheets on that side. He then scooped you up again and moved you to the clean, crisp sheets. He removed the rest of the soiled sheets and finished making the bed.

As soon as he was finished, he crawled into the bed beside you. He reached out to grab your soft body and tugged you against his warm chest.

You nuzzled into him and sighed softly. "I could get used to this."

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. "I'll always take care of you, baby...so you might as well get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."

You smiled and pressed a soft kiss onto his chest. "I love you, Dean."

Dean tightened his grip on you and smiled. "I love you more, (Y/N/N). Always."

[jasmines-library]

SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST

All the things on the road so far:

Total count: 31

Last updated: 07 April 2024

⛤ MASTERLIST ⛤

⛤ Hey Jude

Summary: When a demon hunt doesn't go to plan, the Winchesters have to rush to save their little sister. Though to make matters worse, once back home in the safety of the bunker her wound gets infected. With their angel friend MIA, Sam and Dean must battle time to find a way to help their sister.

⛤ Just One Big Headache

Summary: A routine salt 'n' burn takes a nasty turn when the spirit directs its anger towards you, leaving you with a nasty concussion, but not to worry, the Winchesters are there to look after you.

⛤ Spellbound Sickness

Summary: A long and cumbersome witch hunt turns much worse when you begin to develop a high fever; a side effect of the curse she managed to spit out at you. Will the Winchesters find the cure in time?

⛤ Up and Down

Summary: After returning from being tortured by the devil himself, your brain can’t help conjure up its own images which refuse to leave you alone.

⛤ Let It Linger

Summary: after a rough hunt resurfaces some unwanted memories, you slip into your own mind. But Sam is there to help you through it.

⛤ Blood Bag

Summary: you are captured by a group of vamps whilst on a hunt. They take their time trying to kill you, draining you of your blood in an old warehouse. For the Winchesters, it’s a race against time to reach you before something fatal happens.

⛤ Safehouse

Summary: after sustaining an injury on a hunt, you and Dean are forced back to the safehouse, however the wound festers and becomes infected, leaving you very ill. With Cas MIA and without the proper equipment to treat the wound, you are left clinging onto life. (Unknowingly like Hey Jude because I’m stupid and forgot id already done it. It’s slightly different though)

⛤ The Basement

Summary: You are captured alongside your brother Sam by the BMOL. They want something you won't tell them, so they try to force it out of you.

⛤ Hidden on the inside

Summary: During a hunt, you take a nasty hit which at first seems fine, but it's what's hidden deep under the surface that creates a problem. (I get it, i suck and writing summaries.)

⛤ Oh, Baby.

Summary: on the way back from a hunt, an out of control car veers into yours sending it hurtling off of the path and into a tree, leaving you trapped. Too far from the hospital, the Winchesters are left with the task of getting your body from the car as they wait for Cas to arrive.

⛤ Sweet Creature

Summary: When Dean is a Demon, he does something unexpected to you. Since then, you have become withdrawn, refusing to sleep in fear of the images that plague your mind. When you eventually give in and suffer a nightmare, Cas is there to help.

⛤ Sounds Of Someday

Summary: the request pretty much says it all. When you and your brothers split up during an unusual hunt, you get caught and become part of a witch’s ritual, which ends with your life slipping away and your brothers struggling to reach you as you are ripped away from them.

⛤ Devil in Disguise

Summary: After escaping from the cage, Lucifer decides to pay Sam a visit, only he's not there. So he settles on the next best thing: you.

⛤ Black Smoke Rising

Summary: Seeking revenge on the Winchesters, a demon decides to go undercover by using your body as a vessel to sneak into the bunker. Whilst trapped within your own mind, you can only hope that Sam and Dean notice that something is amiss before it is too late.

⛤ Just A Little Complication

Summary: Whilst Dean is in hell, the reader is the only one who can calm Sam down when he gets overwhelmed.

⛤ Knock it off

Summary: whilst at dinner with her family, the reader begins to choke.

⛤ Groundhog Day

Summary: takes place during the episode ‘Mystery Spot’ but instead of Dean dying over and over again, Sam and Dean are forced to watch their sister die repeatedly .

⛤ Sleep Is For The Weak

Summary: With too much to do and not a lot of time to do it, you overwork yourself, missing out on sleep. When your brothers try to get involved, you dismiss them only for you to end up collapsing during a hunt.

⛤ The Curious Case Of Dean Winchester

Summary: Takes place during S5E7 where the reader loses years off of her life to save Dean from a demon deal, however when Sam tried to win her years back, it may already be a little bit too late.

⛤ Dead In The Water

Summary: takes place during S1E3 where the reader ends up in the water with Lucas.

⛤ Dilemma

Summary: When you and your brothers get caught of guard during a werewolf hunt, they are quick to try and blame each other. But little do they know that their bickering might cost you your life.

⛤ Teeth

Summary: Reader gets turned into a vampire

⛤ So close, Yet Too far

Summary: you just really need a hug.

⛤ Hexed

Summary: a hex bag finds its way to you…

⛤ ‘Tis the Season

Summary: A fluffy one shot where the Winchesters celebrate Christmas.

⛤ A Winchester Surprise

Summary: After years of your birthday being forgotten or consumed by a hunt, your brothers make sure that this one is extra special.

⛤ Time For A Wedding

Summary: Sam and Dean attend the readers wedding.

⛤ Unconditional

Summary: 15 year old Winchester!sister discovers she is a lesbian, and whilst on a date with a girl she sees in a diner she gets harassed by a homophobic boy. When she returns, Sam and Dean comfort her.

⛤ Somebody Told Me

Summary: Sam and Dean give their nervous younger sister dating advice.

⛤ Sick Bug

Summary: When you wake up feeling sick, your big brothers are there to help make you feel better. (Hurt/comfort ish)

⛤ Noodle Soup

Summary: The reader takes care of their sick brothers

⛤ Changes (spn x dc)

Summary: You are sick of Sam and Deans bickering, so you venture to Gotham to hunt some vampires where you meet some very interesting vigilantes.

⛤ Today I Saw The Whole World

Summary: You are Sam Winchester’s twin sister, cursed with the same blood running through your veins. When Sam begins experiencing his visions, you too discover a new skill. You can see into the veil.

⛤ Bringers Of The Apocalypse (spn x DC Crossove)

Summary: The day Lucifer was freed from the cage was the day your life completely fell apart. You were ripped harshly from the peaceful life you had created for yourself in Gotham when your duty as the horseman of war calls and you are faced with a difficult decision: stay with your family in Gotham and let the apocalypse play out, or give up the ring (and ultimately your life) to go with the Winchester brothers who are searching for you to send Lucifer back to hell and save the world… or perhaps you can find a compromise somewhere inbeteeen.

[wandering-winchesters]

Hunt Gone Wrong

Dean Winchester x injured Reader

Summary: The reader is injured while on a hunt, but doesn't want the boys to know. Considering it should have been a super easy hunt.

Word Count: 2,009

Not Proof Read

Trigger Warning: Blood, Injury, Needles, Swearing. 18+

AN: Requests are open! Please send them to me. If you’d like to be added to my tag list, please let me know!

Masterlist

I’m not a colorful person, the majority of my wardrobe is made up of black, gray and dark greens. Today, more than ever I’m thankful for my drab wardrobe. Blood doesn’t show in black. I know the gash on my side is bad, but how bad I’m not sure. When I had pulled my hand out from under my shirt it was covered in blood. My blood. I wince, shifting slightly in the passenger seat of the impala. Biting my lip to keep my breathing as steady as possible. Focusing on the trees flying past as Dean drives, his foot weighing heavily on the accelerator.

The hunt had gone exceptionally well, minus the small mishap that had left me in my current situation. Dean and Sam had begrudgingly let me come with them to take out a demon, an easy job. There was only one that we were after on this occasion, or so we thought. We had unintentionally split up upon entry to the house, Sam and Dean had headed upstairs searching for the demon. But something caught my attention and I had veered away from them. I realize now, that it was all apart of the demons plan to draw me away from the protection of the boys. A fact that I wanted to keep from Sam and Dean. Hence, why I was doing my best to keep my injury hidden from them. Praying my shirt and flannel would absorb all of the blood and I wouldn’t stain the seats in the impala.

I zone in and out, listening to the boys argue about what they could have done differently, what went right and who screwed up what. I am counting down the minutes until we are back at the hotel, my jaw clenched, every muscle in my body aching from how tense I have been on the short, fifteen minute drive back. 

“Y/N?” Dean says, reaching over to squeeze my knee. I jump, pulling away absentmindedly, “You okay there? You have been awfully quiet.” His brows pull together, worry forming across his face at my actions. “Yeah, I am good. Just tired, ready to get to the motel. All good De.” I try my best to smile, probably more of a grimace.  I know I haven’t convinced him, his lingering glance that I catch out of the corner of my eye tells me that much. He knows me all too well, a fact that I do not normally mind. However, today, I just want to fade into the background. I wish that he was not as familiar with my mannerisms as he is. 

The gravel crunches under the tires of the car as Dean parks in front of the motel. After a few seconds of arguing, Sam heads inside to get us a room. 

“I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I am starvin’! Demon killing always works up my appetite. What do ya’ want for dinner?” Dean asks, turning the car off and grabbing his jacket from the seat next to him, preparing to get out of the Impala. “Hmm?” I hadn’t been paying attention to his words, my hand pressed tightly against the wound on my side, trying to gauge just how bad it is. “Oh, I don’t know Dean, I am not that hungry.” I give him a half smile, looking him in the eyes for the first time since we left the run down and demon infested house. 

His face falls quickly, looking me over, searching for any sign of injury. 

“Jesus, you’re as pale as a ghost, Y/N! Are you hurt?” He throws open the drivers door and moves to climb out, surely to come over to the passenger side and look me over for himself. 

“No, Dean, I am fine, I promise! Just tired, today took it out of me. I will be fine after a shower and a good nights sleep.” Dean gets distracted by Sam making his way back over to us. 

“So, good and bad news. Good news is I got us a room. Bad news, they only had one room open, but there are two beds at least!” Sam says, tossing the room key onto the hood of the impala, while he walks to the trunk and pulls out his bag. 

I throw open the passenger door and snatch the key off the hood of the car before Dean can. "I call first shower!" I sling the strap of my bag over my shoulder and walk as quickly as I can, to the door of the room.

The next few minutes are a blur, I manage to grab a change of clothes and the first aid kit out my bag and slip into the bathroom. Avoiding the any further contact with Sam or Dean. I curse under my breath, turning the lights on in the small, dingy space. Realizing now, just how light headed I am. I anchor myself against the sink, using my other arm to slide my flannel off my shoulders and let fall to the floor. I take a deep breath and pull my shirt off, steeling myself for what I am about to see. The sight of blood is one thing that has not gotten any easier, mine or someone else's.

The cut is deep, deeper than I thought it would be. I wince, as I pull the fabric of my shirt away from my skin, the dried blood making it an even harder task.

"Fuck." I am going to need stitches. I angle my body to the mirror, trying to get a better look. The angry, red gash stretches from the top of my hip, up to the front of my ribcage. Fresh blood begins to pool and drip from the wound, irritated from the removal of my shirt. How am I going to do this? I can do stitches, sure, but I have only ever done them for the boys. The angle that I will have to work at seems impossible at the moment.

I lean over and turn on the shower, figuring I should clean out the wound before stitching it up, plus the sound of the shower would help to cover up the gasps and whimpers I cannot seem to contain now that I am alone. I grab a seemingly clean towel, from the rack in the bathroom and press it against my side. Trying to slow the bleeding while I collect my thoughts. I am interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Y/N, I am just gonna wash my face while you shower-" Dean opens the door and sticks his head in the room. Stopping in his tracks as he sees me, a mumbled apology starts to roll off his tongue, before he freezes. His eyes trained on the towel that I have pressed to my side. I glance down and notice the red tinge that covers the part of the towel that I had already used.

"Damn it, Y/N. What happened?" He asks, slipping the rest of the way into the room and shutting the door behind him. He crosses the small space to me in a second, taking the towel from my hand and pulling it away so he can survey just how bad it is. His brow creases, as he looks closer. I can see worry etched into every inch of his face. "I'm fine De, Just a scratch." I mumble, looking away from him, not wanting to see the expression on his face any longer.

"You are as far away from fine, as that can be." He states, grabbing the first aid kit off the counter and hurriedly searching for the suture kit that we keep in all of our bags. I feel the tears that I have been holding back, begin to fall. I curse under my breath, and glance up at the ceiling, trying to hold back those tears I so desperately do not want to fall.

"I can do it myself, Dean, I don't need your help." I state, trying to take the sutures from his hand. He stops me easily, a hand wrapping around my wrist. He releases my wrist after a few long, painful seconds and looks at me.

"Stop it, I wasn't asking if you wanted or needed my help. I am doing this. Now, are we doing this the easy way, or the hard way? Because if you want to be difficult, I can go get Sammy to help. And you know he is way more dramatic than I am about these things." He states, holding the suture kit up above his head, to keep me from trying to grab it from him.

"Okay." I mumble, my voice barely more than a whisper. Dean nods, gently guiding me over to the counter, encouraging me to hop up on to the elevated surface so he can have easier access to the wound on my side.

Time passes slowly as Dean cleans the lovely gash caused by my moment of stupidity on the hunt. The tension in the small bathroom building by every passing moment. I can feel the anger and frustration radiating off of Dean in waves.

"Shit, that hurts De." I hiss as the suture pierces my skin for the first stitch of many. I hear a low apology make its way from him, his brows knit together in concentration.

"Why didn't you just tell me? Or Sam? For God's sake Y/N, this isn't just a scrape. It's deep. Judging by how pale and clammy you are, you've lost a lot of blood. If you had just told me when it happened, we could've done something about it ages ago!" He curses, grabbing a clean square of gauze to wipe away some of the fresh blood.

"I didn't want to disappoint you, it was supposed to be an easy hunt. It's my own damn fault that it happened. Plus, I didn't think it was this bad. Figured I could clean it up on my own and you'd never had been the wiser. If I had just remembered to lock the goddamn door." I shrug my shoulders, immediately regretting the motion as waves of pain ripple through my body. Nerves igniting that I didn't even know existed.

"You could never disappoint me, I am just sorry that this happened in the first place. We shouldn't have split up, you aren't stupid Y/N."

He finishes the sutures over a period of time that feels like hours, but in reality was only minutes. His touch gentle and cautious, but firm and reassuring at the same time. A combination that I didn't think possible, especially coming from the older of the two Winchesters. "Finished," He sighs, helping me down from the counter. "Do you want help showering? You need to be careful not to rip your stitches."

It takes me a moment to process what he said, his offer to help me shower a first coming from him. Our friendship had never gone past meaningless flirtation, this level of intimacy something that I wasn't prepared for coming from him.

"Uhm, no, I think I will be okay, thank you though." I say, glancing up at him with a small smile. "Are you still angry with me?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

"Y/N, I was never angry." He hesitates, as if debating on if to finish what he was going to say. "I was scared. I wasn't there to protect you and you got injured. The thought of something happening to you, I just-" He pauses again, his fingers coming up to brush a strand of hair out of my face and behind my ear. The calluses on his fingers, dragging against my skin. "I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you, that's all." He presses a quick kiss to my forehead, then turns on his heel to head out of the bathroom.

"De, wait." I say, reaching out and grabbing his hand before he opens the door. "Could you stay, and help me wash my hair?"

[octoberclidan]

You're Safe Here

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader (platonic)

Note: This was requested anonymously. It's definitely one of my longer pieces, I hope you like it! There is reference to and description of domestic abuse and issues with both mental and physical health issues.

Request: The reader is running from her past. Her ex is an abusive ass. One day he had hurt her so bad, that she was left to die in their shared apartment. With a fractured skull, several fractured ribs and a stab wound to her lungs her neighbor found her and calls 911.

After being discharged not fully healed she packs a bag and tries to run from the bad memories. She goes to the next bus stop and never turns back. Several days sitting in different busses in her weakened state she decides that this should be her new hometown... But it's getting dark and sooner rather than later she is lost in the woods of this god forsaken town. Too weak to go any further she collapsed in front of the Winchester's bunker. The two find her after coming home from a hunt. They bring her in and Dean is immediately taken aback from her beauty but wonders why her body is littert with bruises. When she comes to she instantly panics because she thinks her ex found her. They keep her calm and after some days she trust these two handsome strangers, but never tells her story. Because of the injuries, which are still healing she often suffers from severe migraine attacks and also is out of breath fast because of her damaged lung.

Time passes by and the three are thick as thieves. But the two brothers want to know her story, what had happened to her that day in summer when they found her. Now it's winter and they actually only know some small thinks about her. Although she really likes the boys (especially Dean ;)) and trust them she lives in constant fear of her ex. Because of that stress her migraines get really bad (heavy dizziness, nausea, visual disorder). She tries to hide her bad condition but the observant brother don't eat her shit. After some rough days of her in constant pain and migraine attacks and the boys taking care of her, she has a full blown panic attack at night. The boys are instantly at her side, calming her down. But she is so out of it and just keeps mumbling apologies and pleads that they don't hurt her. Finally Sam and Dean do the math and are suspicious what might had happened to her. Dean, who is in love with her, gets so angry that he is discussing very loudly with Sam and the reader eavesdrops the wohle thing but just hears that Dean is disappointed in her because she was not honest with her truth. In her confused state she leaves the bunker. In just some thin Leggins and one of Dean's sweater she gets lost in the woods, a snow storm raging over the city. Too exhausted collapsed and has hallucinations about her past. Sooner rather than later the boys notice her disappearance and search for their friend. They find her deathly pale lying in the snow, sweating from a fever and the hallucinations....

It would be fantastic if you can come up with an happy end. They treat her and she apologizes for her lies concerning her past. And Dean then understands that she ran away because she heard her. She tells them her story and Dean tells her that she is always safe with him....

Masterlist

Story:

[Y/N] was woken up by a beeping sound. Her eyes were still closed, and she could feel a small bubble of frustration building up when she struggled to open them. Her mind felt foggy, she didn't know where she was, or where the beeping from. She didn't know why everything smelled like disinfectant; her room should smell like vanilla from the candle that she had only just lit twenty minutes ago. Why did her head hurt so much? Why did breathing leave a sharp pain in her side? She tried to sit up, but her body felt stiff, it felt like there was something on her chest, holding her down. The weight on her chest was starting to make her panic, causing her breaths to quicken and the pain in her side increased. She could hear the beeping get louder and faster, what was happening? Where was she?

There was a muffled voice, but she couldn't quite make out who it was or what it was saying. She felt a hand on her shoulder, but she still couldn't open her eyes. The voice didn't sound familiar, but it sounded like it might be saying something familiar. Was it her name? Was the muffled voice saying her name? She tried to slow her breathing down as each breath felt like she was being stabbed. She took a deep breath in, tried to ignore the weight on her chest and then slowly blew her breath out. She tried this several more times, and noticed that the beeping was slowing down as she did so. She also noticed that the weight was starting to lift, and the muffled voice was becoming clearer. It was definitely saying her name. Finally, she tried to open her eyes again, and this time it worked.

Everything was unfocused, but there was a figure wearing blue beside her. "Miss [Y/L/N]? Can you hear me?". The voice was coming from the blue person. She rolled her eyes around, trying to find something to focus on when she felt the hand on her shoulder squeeze. She looked to her side and saw the figure's arm, then traced it up to the figure's face. It was a nurse, a woman, maybe early fifties, wearing a kind expression. The woman spoke again "Can you hear me?". [Y/N] nodded. "You're in the hospital. Do you feel any pain or discomfort?" [Y/N] nodded again and opened her mouth to speak, but it was completely dry and she could only cough. "Try not to speak, just nod or shake your head. Do you understand?" [Y/N] nodded her head while the nurse handed her a cup of water. "Okay, are you in pain?". Again [Y/N] nodded, looking down at her side. "Alright, I will adjust your pain medication". The nurse took her hand from [Y/N]'s shoulder and began typing something into a tablet. "Do you know why you're here?".

[Y/N] didn't answer straight away. She remembered sitting in her bedroom, she had just lit a scented candle and picked out a book to read. Her boyfriend was away for the weekend and she was looking forward to some alone time. Things had been rocky with her relationship for awhile now. It had started off great, Mark was a seemingly nice guy who she had met in work and they'd hit it off. They had similar interests and hobbies, they shared several friends, and she had moved in to his apartment over a year ago. However, not long after moving in things started to change. At first it was small things, Mark became lazier with the house chores, expecting [Y/N] to either do them, or leave them undone. They would both come home tired from work but [Y/N] would be the one to cook dinner, clean the dishes, do the shopping, and clean the house.

The choice between doing all the chores or leaving them undone had eventually been taken away when Mark began shouting at [Y/N] for not doing them. He would drop food on the floor and wait for her to clean it up. He would scream at her when he opened the fridge to find it hadn't been stocked up. He only ever opened the dishwasher to check that [Y/N] had emptied it. The insults started a few months later. He would call her lazy for being tired at the end of a long day, he would mock her outfit choices, or tell her she needed to put on more makeup. He would shout at her and threaten to leave her out on the street any time she stood up for herself. He would call her stupid, comment on her weight, tell her that she was useless. The thing that made it harder for her to leave him, was that he would apologise. He would call her a million names, shout in her face, make her cry, leave her alone to do everything herself, and then he would say he was sorry, that he loved her, and that he would do better. He would hold her, stroke her hair, kiss her forehead, and say everything would be okay. Then the cycle would repeat.

"Miss, you you know why you're here?". The nurse's voice called [Y/N] from her train of thought. She was in hospital because of Mark. He had made the move from verbal and emotional abuse to physical abuse. He was supposed to be away for the weekend, she was supposed to have a few days to herself to relax, get comfortable in her bed, and catch up on her book. She didn't hear the front door open or close, she didn't hear the footsteps coming up the stairs. She only heard him when he had swung the bedroom door open, his face full of rage and his eyes locking on to her as if she was his prey.

"Where the fuck is he?" Mark spat. [Y/N] looked at him, startled and confused, a deer caught in headlamps. "Do not make me any angrier than I already am [Y/N], I said, where the fuck is he?"

"I-I don't... where is who?"

"I know you have a man up here, I know you're a stupid little whore. Tell me where the fuck he is. Now".

[Y/N] could feel her heart racing, she knew she was in danger, she knew she wasn't safe. "It's just me, I'm alone, there is no one else".

"You're really going to lie to my face and tell me you haven't been cheating on me? In my own fucking house?"

"I haven't! I swear, I have never cheated on you". Tears were streaming down her face, and Mark took a step towards her. That's when the light from the window hit the knife in his hand, drawing her attention to it. "Wha-what are you doing?" Mark took another step closer to her, and.. beeping.

"Mark" [Y/N] croaked out. The nurse looked up from her tablet and gave [Y/N] a kind smile.

"Yes, Mark, your emergency contact. He has been kept updated on your condition every day for the last four weeks. Don't worry, as soon as I'm done here I will let him know that you're awake". Four weeks? Had she heard that right? The door to the room opened, and a quick wave of anxiety spread through [Y/N]'s body before she saw it was a woman, not Mark. The woman walked into the room and took the place of the nurse, who handed off the tablet before leaving.

"Good afternoon [Y/N], my name is Dr. Greene, I am so glad to see that you're awake". She offered a comforting smile. "I know things might be a bit muddy for you at the moment, but that's okay. You're here because you were attacked in a home invasion, your neighbour heard screaming and called 911 but your attacker had fled the scene before emergency services arrived. You suffered quite severe injuries to your head, and you sustained several broken ribs and four stab wounds with a punctured lung. It was rocky at the start but we are confident now that you will make a full recovery. We'd like to keep you here for another few days for observation, but the fact that you're awake and aware is the good sign we've been waiting for. The police would like to interview you as soon as they can, they want to know if you remember anything about your attacker." [Y/N] noticed the beeping was starting to get faster again. She couldn't see Mark again. "Don't worry, I will refrain from letting them know that you're awake until Mark gets here, he has visited you every day and has stayed by your bedside every moment outside of his work." The doctor offered another comforting smile but [Y/N]'s focus was on the door. "If you need anything, just press the button here on the side of your bed and someone will come in to you. I will come and check on you in the next half hour anyway".

As soon as the doctor left the room, [Y/N] was pulling the IV out of her arm and leaning up to get out of the bed. She managed to swing her legs over the side of the bed, but she immediately felt pain in her side and had to stop moving to catch her breath. More carefully, she planted her feet on the ground and stood up, leaning on the side of the bed for support. She spotted a bag on the couch in the room and slowly made her way towards it, and was relieved to find some of her clothes in it. She lifted off her hospital gown and inspected her side, she wasn't surprised to see a series of stitches where the apparent four stab wounds had been. She slipped on some underwear, a pair of jeans, and a loose hoodie, not wanting to wear anything too constricting over her cuts. She found some socks, and her shoes were on the floor beside the couch. Once she was fully dressed, she took another look in the bag, hoping to find her phone, but it wasn't there. Looking around the room one last time to see if there was anything of use she could take, she spotted a wallet on the table beside the bed. Mark's wallet. Grabbing it she opened it to see what was inside and was almost excited enough to smile when she saw all of the cash he'd left inside it. She took all of it, zipping it into a pocket in her bag, leaving all of his cards and the wallet itself behind. She couldn't risk taking and using the cards, giving him an easy way to track her down, the cash would have to be enough.

She managed to make it out of the hospital and to a bus stop down the road, not sure exactly where she was going, but knowing she wanted to get as far away as she could. She didn't even want to be in the same state anymore. She got on the first bus that was heading out of town, and stayed on it until its last stop. She then got a second bus, and then a third, and a fourth. She spent the entire day on buses. It was 9pm when she finally decided that she needed something to eat. She found a diner not far from where the last bus left her, and she sat awkwardly at a booth, trying to organise her thoughts. She definitely got a few stares while she ate; she hadn't seen herself in a mirror since waking up but she couldn't imagine that she looked good having been unconscious for a month, just escaped a hospital and then sat on buses all day. She hadn't even realised just how hungry she was until she had taken her first bite, and she quickly finished all of her food.

Luckily there was a motel beside the diner where she was able to get a room for the night, but it left her low on cash. Counting out what she had left, she figured she had enough for one last bus journey which should at least get her to the next town over; Smith Center, Kansas. She had picked it out on the map at the last bus station, noting that it was small; no one would look for her there. It would then leave her with enough cash for a cheap motel for a couple of nights to give her some time to look for help or figure out what to do next.

***

Late morning the next day she found herself walking around Smith Center. It was a very small town, the choices of motels were limited. She arrived at the first one just to be told there were no rooms available. Her heart dropped when the next two, the only other two, told her the same thing. There were no other buses for the rest of the day, and she needed to find somewhere and fast. With no phone, she could only go by the map on the wall of the last motel. It looked like the nearest motel was a ten hour walk east, meaning it would be very late by the time she got there, and if they didn't have a room, she'd be stuck. She bought some cheap snacks and a bottle of water from the vending machine at the last motel before she set off on her journey.

***

Four and a half hours in she was walking along the edge of a road, only a couple of cars had passed her the entire walk so far. She had to keep stopping to catch her breath, and she had already finished her water. She cursed herself for not buying more than one bottle. It was also cold out, and her hoodie was doing little to shelter her from the breeze. Her side was killing her and her head was aching, her vision was becoming more and more unfocused the farther she pushed herself. She was pulled back to awareness by the loud beeping of a horn; a truck had slowed down beside her and a man was shouting something out of the window. "Are you alone out here?" He called. She ignored him, not even looking at him. "Hey, I asked you a question, are you alone? Do you need company?" The man was creeping her out and still without looking at him she turned sharply into the forest along the side of the road and just ran. She ran through the pain, she ran through the fogginess of her brain, she ran as fast as she could through the trees.

She needed to find her way out of the forest. She was cold, tired, it was dark, and the ache in her head and pain in her side had spread throughout her body. She knew that she was only moments away from collapsing. Then she found a door, surrounded by concrete and sunken into the side of a mound of earth, with a solid concrete building sitting on top of it. She grabbed onto the metal railing and made her way down a few steps to the door. She tried to bang on it but her strength was gone, she could only manage light taps; no one would be able to hear them. Too exhausted to walk back up the few steps onto the road, she leaned against the door. Any adrenaline she was running on had finally run out, and she slid down against the door, falling onto the ground and losing consciousness.

***

[Y/N] wasn't woken up by sunlight the next morning, or the rumbling of a car engine as it stopped outside the door. She wasn't woken up by the low voices, the hand on her shoulder, or the tap on her cheek. "Who do you think she is?"

"I don't know Dean, I got here at the same time as you".

"Hey". There was another tap on her cheek, and this time she stirred. "Hey, wake up". The sound of a man's voice startled her and her eyes shot open. The light from the sun hit her eyes before she could focus on the face in front of her and she shut them again while letting out a groan. "Who are you? Where did you come from?"

"Maybe let her wake up a little bit Dean, she doesn't look well".

"Should we take her to the hospital?" The word 'hospital' triggered an immediate response in [Y/N]'s mind. Hospitals within the radius that she could have travelled to within the period of time that she'd escaped would be at the top of his list of places to check for her.

"No, no hospital, please". Her voice was only a whisper, she was completely dehydrated.

"Okay, okay, come on, let's get you inside then". The man, Dean, pulled her into his arms and stood up. He looked down at her face to see that she had lost consciousness again. "Sam can you get the door?" They made their way down into the bunker, and Dean brought [Y/N] straight into one of the bedrooms, laying her down gently and brushing her hair out of her face.

"What do you think she has against hospitals?" Sam walked into the room with one of the bunker's first aid kids.

"Not sure, but it looks like she came from one. Look, she has stitches on her head, under her hair". Dean pushed back [Y/N]'s hair to show Sam. Sam leaned over to take a closer look, and then reached for her arm and pushed her sleeve up.

"Bruise from an IV too. I dunno Dean, maybe we should take her to the hospital anyway. Look at her, she's sick".

"How many times have we had to avoid hospitals for one reason or another? What if she's running from someone? No, we can watch over her until she wakes up again and then we can figure out who she is and why she was at our front door".

Sam scoffed at him. "Why do you care? She's a stranger, we don't even know her name". Dean just waved him off.

"Just bring in a glass of water, I'll try to wake her up again". Sam left the room and Dean sat on the edge of the bed. He put his hand on [Y/N]'s shoulder and gently rocked it. "Hey, wake up". She didn't respond, so he tried again. "Sweetheart, can you open your eyes for me?"

She could hear a man's voice, and she felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. She bolted up and pushed the hand off her shoulder, how had he found her? She was in the middle of nowhere, she'd left the hospital, she didn't have anything trackable, how had he found her so quickly?

"No, please, get off me". Her eyes were already full of tears and she couldn't make out the face in front of her, but she assumed it was Mark, that he had managed to find her. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to run". She sobbed. Dean didn't know what to do, he just held his hands back and slowly stood up from the bed to give her space.

"Hey, hey, I don't know who you're apologising to but you didn't run from me, I found you outside my door". Why did Mark sound different to usual? His voice wasn't that deep.

"What's going on?" Sam walked back into the room with a glass of water and looked from Dean to [Y/N].

"Hey, my name is Dean, you're safe here okay? I'm not gonna hurt you". [Y/N] sniffed and blinked the tears from her eyes, trying to focus on Dean's face. Not Mark, Dean. Once she could see his face she moved her eyes to Sam.

"I'm Sam, you were kinda unconscious at our front door... here, take this". He cautiously handed her the glass and nodded approvingly when she took it from him. Neither of them missed the way her hands trembled as she brought the glass up to her lips. "Can you tell us your name?" She shook her head and Sam looked to Dean with a confused expression. "Do you know where you are?" She looked around the room and shook her head again, her lip starting to quiver again. "That's okay, you're in Lebanon, Kansas. Like I said, I'm Sam, and this is my brother Dean". Dean smiled reassuringly at her. "We noticed some stitches on your head and an IV mark on your arm, were you in hospital?" [Y/N] nodded. "Okay, and you don't wanna go back?" She quickly nodded and cleared her throat.

"I-I can't".

"Why can't you Sweetheart? You're hurt". Dean asked.

"I just can't, not safe". She looked down at her glass of water.

"Okay, that's alright, but can you let us look at you properly? We're actually both pretty good with taking care of injuries. Those stitches will need to be monitored for one". Dean pointed at her head.

"Okay". She whispered.

"It will be a lot easier if you tell us your name, even just your first name, I promise we won't try to contact anyone". Sam smiled comfortingly at her when she looked up at him.

"[Y/N]".

"Alright [Y/N], welcome to the bunker, just so happens to be one of the safest places on earth". Dean had a look of pride on his face as he made that statement, but [Y/N] wasn't so sure she got what he meant - bunker? Were these brothers some sort of paranoid conspiracy theorists? They weren't wearing tin hats or anything and they looked genuine, but living in a bunker seemed pretty odd. Sam seemed to understand the expression on her face because he was quick to change the subject.

"Do you wanna take a shower or something and get some rest? Or a bath maybe if you're feeling too tired to stand?" A bath did sound pretty good, she was starting to think she probably didn't smell great after being in a hospital for a month, riding on a bunch of buses, walking for nearly five hours and then running until she collapsed.

"I-I'd like a bath".

"Come on, I'll show you where to go and I'll get you some clean clothes". Sam held his hand out to her. She knew she should be weary of these unusually tall and handsome strangers, but she couldn't help but feel trusting of them. She took his hand and he pulled her up while Dean helped to steady her on her feet. Sam let her hold onto his arm for support as he walked her to the bathroom. He gave her soap, shampoo, conditioner, and a warm fluffy towel and told her to take as long as she wanted, and that he would leave some clothes outside the door for her.

The bath definitely helped. At first it stung where her stitches were, and also the little scratches she must have picked up running through the forest. Once she properly got soaked in the hot water however, the stinging faded and she could feel her muscles relax. She was surprised to see that Sam had given her pretty high end shampoo and conditioner for her hair, which took awhile to wash since there were definitely a lot of knots and even a small twig in it. She looked down at her body while she was washing it and was shocked at the number of bruises she had. Luckily the stab wounds looked like they were healing pretty well, though they would definitely leave some scars.

Once she felt clean, she carefully got up from the tub and wrapped the towel around herself before opening the door to see what clothes had been left; a t-shirt, a warm looking flannel, and pyjama pants. They were all far too big on her, but they were definitely comfortable. She made her way back to the bedroom she had come from, and found Dean sitting at the desk in the room flicking through an old book. He looked up at her when she walked through the door and smiled. "Feeling better?" He asked her.

"Yeah, it definitely helped". She made her way over to the bed and sat on the side of it. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course".

"Why do you live here? In a bunker?" Dean scratched the back of his neck nervously, not really sure how to explain it.

"It's kind of a long story". He chuckled. "Why don't I tell you tomorrow after you've had some rest?" He closed the book he was flicking through and stood up from the desk, making his way to the bedroom door. "I'm just three doors down on the right, if you need anything at all during the night just knock. I've left another glass of water for you on the bedside table there, did you want something to eat before you go to bed?" [Y/N] shook her head, she wasn't sure her stomach was up for any food just yet. "That's okay, but will you try and eat some breakfast tomorrow? I make some pretty good pancakes". He smiled at her and she smiled back. Her smile was beautiful, and it pulled his attention away from the bags under her eyes and the scratches and bruises that he'd noticed earlier. He blinked a few times when he realised he may have been staring just a bit too long and he excused himself from the room, closing the door behind him.

***

[Y/N] woke up to the sound of screaming. She shot up in her bed and looked around frantically, momentarily forgetting where she was and not knowing where the scream came from. The door burst open and Dean was there, holding up a gun, which startled [Y/N] even more as she tried to push herself back into the headboard to try and distance herself from him. Once he saw that there was no one else in the room, he put the gun away and held up his hands to [Y/N] to show he wasn't armed anymore. "Hey, you're okay, I heard you scream so I'm just here to make sure nothing happened". [Y/N]'s breathing was uneven and she could feel that her forehead was covered in sweat and her cheeks were covered in tears. "Can you just breathe for me?" [Y/N] didn't respond, she just kept staring at him and struggled to deepen her breaths. "I'm going to come over to you now, is that okay?" Dean kept his hands up as he took a step towards her; she didn't object.

He sat down beside her and put his hands on her shoulders, making sure to move slowly and give her time to tell him to back off if she needed to. When she didn't say anything, he pulled her closer to him. "I want you to try and match my breathing okay? Just focus on me". His hands were wrapped around her back and she instinctively wrapped hers around his. Dean's breaths were even, and deep, and slow. After several minutes [Y/N] had calmed down, and she closed her eyes and leaned her head again Dean's chest. His hand went to her head, careful to avoid the stitches, and he held her. "Did you have a nightmare?" She shrugged her shoulders, not really remembering what caused her to wake up. "Okay, do you wanna lie back and try get some more sleep?"

She looked up, the tears on her face had dried and she just felt tired now. "Would you stay with me?" Her voice was quite and Dean looked down at her.

"Do you want me to lay with you?" She nodded shyly. "Okay, we can do that if it will help you sleep." Dean lay down beside her, staying on top of the covers while she got back under them. He slid his arm around her shoulder and she lay her head on his chest, letting him rest his chin on the top of her head. His fingers lightly traced circles on her arm, and her breathing became slower, and deeper. She didn't know why she felt so safe in Dean's arms, but she wasn't going to resist. She needed to rest, and he helped her do that.

***

When [Y/N] woke up she didn't feel right. She opened her eyes and blinked, looking around the room. She had a vague memory of the man, Dean, staying with her last night, but now she was the only one in the bed. She had an ache behind her right eye, and there was something moving in her peripheral. She looked over to the door to see what was moving, but the door was closed and no one was there. The movement was still in her peripheral, so she turned her head farther to the right to catch it, but it stayed in her peripheral. She groaned, knowing exactly what this meant. She'd had migraines as a teenager, but hadn't had one in years. They always started the same for her; a pain behind her eye, and an aura which would grow from her peripheral over the next couple of hours to the point where she wouldn't be able to see anything out of the affected eye. She knew the pain would also grow, and it would get so bad that she would throw up.

She needed to get up and get to a toilet fast. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and pushed up quickly, which was a mistake, because she was instantly dizzy and the pain in her side reminded her of the wounds, and then everything that happened came rushing to the front of her mind and it was all too much. She fell down onto her hands and knees. The ache behind her eye was turning into a pounding sensation, and the aura in her peripheral was creeping towards the centre of her vision. There was a knock on the door, and she had to cover her ears it sounded so loud. It slowly opened and Sam looked through, he had called her name but she hadn't answered. When he spotted her on the floor he rushed over to her and lifted her up onto her knees so she was kneeling. He scanned her face and his concerned expression intensified. "[Y/N] can you hear me? What's wrong? Where are you in pain?" She slowly removed her hands from her ears and placed them onto Sam's shoulders for balance.

"Mi-migraine". She managed to stutter. "Going t-to throw up, need t-toilet now". Without another word Sam hoisted her up and into his arms, carried her straight out of the door and down to the bathroom. He set her down quickly in front of the toilet and pulled back her hair as she threw up. It was basically just water since she hadn't eaten, but it was unpleasant anyway. Sam rubbed his hand in circles on her back and stayed there with her until she leaned back. "Sorry". She whispered.

"It's okay". He continued to rub her back. He thought about bringing up the hospital again but quickly decided that triggering a panic attack in the state she was currently in would not be the best. "There's a spare toothbrush here, you can brush your teeth. I'll get you a clean glass for some water too. You okay here by yourself for a couple of minutes?" She nodded and he left. She stood up and leaned over the sink. Looking up she saw herself in the mirror for the first time since the attack. She looked terrible. While the bath the previous day had cleaned her skin and hair, she was covered in scratches and bruises. Her eyes looked sunken in and her eyes were red, she hadn't even realised that she'd been crying since Sam found her on the floor. He came back into the bathroom several minutes later with some water and some clean clothes. "Thought you might want to change out of what you slept in last night. Sorry we don't have anything that would fit you, it's just me and Dean that live here. I do have some medicine for that migraine and nausea though". She took the water and pills from him and smiled as he set the clothes down on the counter. "If you take a right from the bathroom and continue down to the end of the corridor, the last right will lead to the kitchen, meet me in there when you're ready?"

***

[Y/N] sat at the kitchen table in her clean clothes and sipping her glass of water. The migraine's aura had disappeared and the nausea had passed, there was just a dull throb behind her eye left. She blinked, looking between Sam and Dean who sat opposite her. "Are you serious?" She asked. They had just explained to her what the bunker was and what they did for a living.

"I know it's a lot, but it's all true". Sam responded.

"You hunt monsters?"

"And save people". Dean added.

"You're right that is a lot".

"Look, I don't know what your deal is, or what you're running from, but we have lots of space here. You can stay while you recover, just try not to touch something if you don't know what it is, we're still cataloging everything. Don't want to accidentally send you to another world or something". Sam chuckled but she could hear a serious tone beneath it. "You should really have something to eat, how's your stomach?" He asked.

"Maybe something small?"

"How about some cereal? I can get you a bowl now and then you can go back to bed and rest. Consider that room yours for now. While you're resting I can go get you whatever you need, just let me know your clothing sizes and preferences okay?"

"I don't have a lot of cash left". [Y/N] looked back down to her glass of water. She flinched slightly when Dean reached out to cover her hand with his, but she didn't pull away; he was incredibly gentle for someone who looked so big and tall.

"We've got you. We have an unlimited credit card thanks to a good friend of ours". He smiled at her.

***

[Y/N] ate and thanked both of the boys for the hospitality they'd shown her before heading back to the bedroom. Her headache had completely subsided and she felt better having eaten something. Her side was the only thing bothering her now, but it was bearable. She had a dreamless sleep, and when she woke up the clock on the wall showed that she had slept through the entire night and most of the next morning too; it was nearly 12pm. She sat up and noticed that there were bags on the desk in the corner. She made her way over to have a look inside, and found clothes in her size. She'd asked for underwear, pyjamas, leggings, jeans, socks, and some t-shirts and hoodies, and surprisingly whichever of the boys had bought them had managed to find stuff that suited her style. After a quick shower and change of clothes, she went back to the kitchen and found Dean there.

"Hey Sweetheart, you sleep okay last night?"

"Yeah, thanks for the clothes, they fit".

"I'm glad to hear. You want some pancakes?" He asked while already shovelling some onto a plate for her. She started to eat when he sat down opposite her.

"So listen, Sam's gone off on a hunt today, should only take a day or two. I was wondering if you'd wanna help with some research? We're thinking it's a banshee but we're not too familiar with them".

"Yeah of course, you've done so much for me, if there is anything I can do to help you guys out just point me in the right direction!"

***

[Y/N] had been helping the boys out with their cases for a few months now. Her stab wounds had healed, and all of the scratches and bruises were gone. She still couldn't run without finding it difficult to breathe, and her head still hurt from time to time, but overall she was much improved. Dean often commented on her improved appearance, constantly complimented her and stole glances when he thought she wasn't looking. She also stole a lot of glances at him, and Sam found it entertaining watching both of them. Dean wasn't usually one to shy around women, but [Y/N] had some sort of special effect on him. Sam often brought it up to Dean, but every time he told him to shut up.

"Why don't you just ask her out? You act like a shy schoolboy around her. You've seen her every day for months and she doesn't seem to be annoyed by you yet, just give it a shot"

"We still don't really know a lot about her Sam. Sure she's been here for months and she's awesome, and don't get me wrong, she's hot, but she hasn't told us anything about her life before she showed up here. I feel like she knows everything about us and we don't know shit about her. She hasn't left the bunker since she got here, she's obviously terrified of something out there but won't say anything".

"Do you think we should talk to her about that? Like properly sit down and try get it out? She's improved a lot but it's still not healthy for her to stay in here all day for months".

Dean didn't answer right away. He'd been wanting to get the truth out of her for weeks now, but every time he tried to get some information about her previous life out of her, she'd either start crying or just lock herself in her bedroom and not come out until the next day. "I'll try to get her to come out on a supply run with me, see if she can handle leaving the bunker for an hour". Sam nodded in agreement with Dean's suggestion.

Dean made his way down to [Y/N]'s room and knocked on the open door, she was sitting on her bed reading through one of the bunker's many lore books. "Hey". He smiled at her.

"Hey, what's up?" She asked.

"We're kinda low on food at the moment, I was wondering if you'd like to come out on a supply run with me?"

"Oh, today?"

"Yeah, now actually".

"I-uh-can Sam not go with you?"

"I think it would be good for you to get outside for a little bit".

"I don't want to". Dean sighed and walked over to sit on the edge of her bed.

"[Y/N], can you please just shed a little bit of light on the situation? You've been here for months, we've fed you, clothed you, helped you heal, and you haven't told us anything about your life".

"You think I'm just taking and not giving anything? I've tried to help as much as I can with researching..."

"No, no I'm not saying that at all. I'm just saying, we've become pretty close, don't you think? I'd say you're a good friend at this point". He smiled and placed his hand on her leg. "I just want to know more about you is all".

"I don't want to go outside". Dean could see that she was starting to breathe quite quickly.

"Hey, that's okay, I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't want to do". She had put the book down and was now picking at her fingers. He reached over to grab her hands to stop her from doing that when she yelped and pulled herself away from him, falling off the bed and landing on the floor with a soft thud. "Shit, sorry [Y/N], are you okay?" Dean knelt down and reached a hand out to put on her shoulder but she jerked away from him.

"Please leave me alone, don't touch me". He quickly pulled his hand back and stood up.

"Okay, okay I'm not gonna touch you. You're safe here, remember?" She slowly nodded as she tried to steady her shaky breathing. "Can you stand up?" She nodded again and pushed off her hands so she was kneeling. Dean held out his hand for her, half expecting her to swat it away but she did take it. He lifted her up and before he could say anything else, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hid her face in his flannel. One of his hands came up to hold the back of her head while the other snaked around her waist. They stood there together in silence for several minutes before [Y/N] pulled away from him. "Is there anything you need while I'm out?" He asked her. She shook her head.

"No, I'm okay". He sighed but nodded. "If you need anything while I'm out Sam is in the library".

***

[Y/N] struggled to get to sleep that night. She knew she couldn't stay inside the bunker forever and would have to brave the outside world at some point, but she was just too scared of running into Mark. She knew that Lebanon, Kansas, would be an extremely unlikely place to run into him or anyone else she knew, but every time she pictured herself out shopping, he would appear there too. Both Sam and Dean had been bringing up the topic of getting out of the bunker more frequently recently, and she was starting to think that they didn't want her around anymore. It was true, she hadn't really told them anything about her life before the bunker, while she knew pretty much everything that they'd gone through since Mary died when Sam was a baby. The images of being outside the bunker and running into Mark turned into nightmares as she drifted off.

She was back in her old bedroom, the footsteps were getting closer, she knew what was coming. She was begging him before he even opened the door not to hurt her. "Please, I'm sorry, I haven't done anything I swear, there's no one here". She locked the door to her bedroom and he began to bang on it from the other side. "Please go away!" She sobbed as he yelled her name, demanding to be let in.

"[Y/N]!" Mark shouted, pounding on the door. "[Y/N]!!"

"[Y/N] wake up!!" [Y/N]'s eyes opened and she gasped, sitting straight up in bed and frantically looking around for Mark. "[Y/N] you're okay, it was a nightmare. It's just us". She looked from Dean who was sitting on her bed with his hands on her shoulders, to Sam who was standing beside her with a worried look etched onto his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry". She wept. "Please don't hurt me, please don't touch me, I didn't do anything, please". Sam and Dean exchanged a look before Sam knelt down beside the bed.

"[Y/N], hey, it's Sam, I'd never hurt you". She continued to cry. "You're safe, no one here is gonna hurt you". She sniffed and finally looked at him, and then at Dean.

"Hey". Dean smiled at her. She reached out to both of them with shaky hands, and they met her half way, gently grabbing a hand each. "It was just a nightmare". He reassured her and she nodded. He reached over with his free hand and wiped the tears from her face. "Do you want me to stay with you the rest of the night or do you want to be alone?"

"Could you stay?'

"Of course". Sam let go of [Y/N]'s hand and leaned in to kiss her forehead, relieved when she smiled. He left the two of them alone. "Alright, scooch over". [Y/N] moved to the side of the bed and lifted the covers. "You want me to get in?" Dean lifted an eyebrow.

"Yeah". Her voice was very quiet. He pulled off the hoodie he was wearing and slid in beside her. She lay her head on his chest and he slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulder and started to trace circles on her arm like he had the first night. He stayed awake long after she had fallen asleep. He needed to get the truth out of her so he could help her. The nightmares, the panic attacks, the apologising while sobbing and begging to be left alone were not going to get better unless she faced the truth. He had a growing suspicion about what had happened to her before she arrived at the bunker, but he had no idea how to confront her about it without setting off a panic attack. He hadn't voiced his suspicions with Sam yet, but he made a mental note to do that first thing in the morning.

***

[Y/N] woke up to an empty bed, her memories of the night before a blur. Her nightmares had been getting worse recently, but waking up screaming like last night was a rare occurance. She made her way to the kitchen, hoping to find the boys there and apologise for waking them up last night. She stopped just outside the kitchen door when she heard Dean say her name.

"I don't know Sam, I'm just.. disappointed".

"You think she's getting worse?"

"I think she's keeping secrets that are hurting her. It's keeping you and me awake at night too. It's just disappointing that she won't tell us anything. Literally everything we know about her is from when we found her onwards. Fuck, it's frustrating".

"You feel hurt that she won't let you in?"

"I.. I guess I feel-" [Y/N] didn't stick around to find out how Dean felt about her. She ran back to her room and quickly got changed out of her pyjamas into a pair of leggings that the boys had bought her, and Dean's hoodies that he'd shed before getting into her bed the previous night. She made her way up to the front door of the bunker without the boys noticing, took a deep breath, and walked outside.

***

There was snow on the ground, and the sun hadn't risen yet. She didn't know how long she had been walking for, and she had no idea where she was; somewhere in the forest near the bunker. A phone rang, and she could feel a vibration against her stomach. She reached in and pulled a phone out of the hoodie's pocket. It was one of Dean's spare phones, and the name on the screen was Sam. Even if she wanted to answer it she wouldn't have been able to, her fingers were numb and she was struggling just to hold the phone. As soon as it stopped ringing, it rang again, this time Dean's name appeared on the screen. Staring at his name and thinking about how angry he sounded that she wouldn't tell him anything, she could only focus on the disappointment in her that he felt. Both Sam and Dean had done so much for her, a stranger, yet she wouldn't open up to them. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice the branch on the ground right in front of her. She tripped, landing the loose rocks on the ground. She couldn't get up. She didn't have the energy.

***

"How long do you think she's been gone?!" Dean was pacing up and down the bunker's bedroom corridor having not been able to find [Y/N] in her room or anywhere else. Sam had his phone pressed to his ear.

"Are you sure she has your phone?"

"I left it in my hoodie, and I left my hoodie in her room last night, and that hoodie is no longer in her room. So yes Sam, I'm pretty damn sure she has it".

"Well we've both called it and she hasn't answered".

"Can you track it?"

"I mean, yeah, do you think that's a good idea? Just given the fact that she was obviously terrified by being tracked before..."

"You know what clothes she has Sam, they don't exactly scream 'winter wear'. Track the phone. Now".

***

Sam and Dean set off into the forest after they had tracked Dean's phone. It looked like [Y/N] hadn't actually gone very far, they would have been able to walk to her location within twenty minutes, but Dean insisted on running. "She should be somewhere around here Dean". Sam slowed down as he caught his breath. "I'll ring the phone, see if we can hear it". Dean came to a stop and listened while Sam called. He heard a faint ringing sound to his left and ran in that direction.

"Shit. Sammy get over here!" He knelt down beside [Y/N] and grabbed her hand, it felt like ice. "[Y/N]?" She didn't answer, her eyes were closed and her body was still. Dean shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around her.

"Is she okay?" Sam asked from behind him.

"She's unconscious. We need to get her back inside and warmed up NOW". Dean slid one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. He and Sam walked quickly back to the bunker.

"You get her to bed, hold her, I'll get a hot water bottle". Sam moved towards the kitchen while Dean brought [Y/N] to his room. He got her under the blankets before taking his flannel and t-shirt off; he knew he was going to get hot under the covers, especially with a hot water bottle. He pulled her so she was laying completely on top of him, and he tucked the blanket around her as best he could. Sam came back in with a hot water bottle and felt her forehead with the back of his hand. "She's still cold, but she's starting to shiver again, that's a good sign". Dean was trying to keep his breathing steady but it was difficult when he was fighting back tears.

"Is this my fault?" He whispered to Sam.

"What? Why would this be your fault?"

"Do you think she heard me? When I said I was disappointed earlier, do you think she heard me?"

"Let's ask her when she wakes up, there's no point dwelling on that now. Just focus on getting her warmed up Dean". Sam took a seat at the desk in the corner of Dean's room, he didn't want to leave until he knew she was okay. He was also a bit worried about Dean, he was unpredictable whenever he felt consumed by guilt. Dean rubbed his hand up and down [Y/N]'s arm to try and create some friction. Sam took [Y/N]'s temperature every ten minutes for the next couple of hours, reassuring Dean that she was getting warmer.

Sam had refilled the hot water bottle, and when he was putting it under the covers [Y/N] stirred in Dean's arms. "[Y/N]? You awake?" Sam asked and reached over to tuck some loose hair behind her ear.

"Sam?" She blinked her eyes open.

"Hey, are you cold?" She shook her head. She actually felt quite warm, and she only just realised that she was lying on something very warm. She looked up and saw Dean looking down at her, concern very apparent on his face.

"Hey". She whispered.

"Hey". He whispered back. She was very aware that Sam and Dean had just saved her, again. She felt a bit silly for running away now that she was thinking more clearly.

"I want to tell you what happened". She looked over at Sam. "I want to tell both of you".

***

When she had finished telling them about Mark, she was scared to look at either of them, worried that she would see pity, or disgust. She was still lying on Dean, and his hold on her only tightened as she told her story. "Thank you for telling us [Y/N]. We had a suspicion that it was something like that, but wow, you've been through a lot". It was Sam that had spoken first. She looked up at Dean to see that his jaw was clenched; he looked angry.

"Are... are you still disappointed?" She asked him. He shook his head and loosened his hold on her, suddenly aware that he was squeezing her.

"No Sweetheart, I'm just angry at what that dick did to you. If I ever see him... he's a monster [Y/N]. You know what we do to monsters". Sam nodded in agreement, though he was better at hiding his anger than Dean. "This is your home now. I'm your family, Sam is your family. We'll keep you safe. You're safe here, but we'll keep you safe no matter where we are. We'll get your confidence back, it will be easier to help you now that we know the truth".

"Can I stay with you tonight?" She asked.

"You can stay with me every night if you want to". He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead and her eyes fluttered closed. She breathed in the Dean's flannel, taking in his comforting scent. She was safe here, with Sam watching out for her and Dean holding her in his arms. Tomorrow would be better.

The end

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Of All The Places to Meet

Summary: When the reader gets into a bad accident, she doesn’t expect to meet her true mate at the same time...

Pairing: Alpha/Firefighter!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 2,500ish

Warnings: language, car accident, major injury

A/N: Enjoy!

_______

“She’s fucking jammed in there good. We need to cut her out.” You blinked open your eyes slowly, very aware of how…off the world seemed. Your head was killing you, that was for sure. Something about the fact you were upside down in your car told you that had something to do with it.

Lazily you turned your head at the scent of vanilla and tobacco, humming at the pleasant smell in the otherwise metallic and burnt rubber scented air. Beside you, crawled in your passenger window on his back, laying on top of your roof was a pair of gorgeous green eyes staring back.

“She’s awake!” called the man, his attention on you the whole time. “Hey, sweetheart. You were in an accident. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

“Smell pretty,” you murmured, fighting off the urge to pass out again. “I’m gonna…”

“Miss. Miss, try to-”

Dean’s POV

“Fuck, she’s out cold again,” I said. I could see where her door was pinned against her left side. It’d be a miracle if she hadn’t shattered her hip or femur. My stomach churned once more, hands gripping the center console that was partially cracked and pushed forward. 

This was not how this was supposed to happen. You don’t meet your true mate in a goddamn car wreck when she’s critically injured. You just don’t.

And now there was another problem.

Alpha’s were notoriously protective of their mates, especially true mates. That instinct skyrocketed when they were injured, even something as small as a cut thumb.

Seeing, smelling, my true mate when she was broken and battered and hurt out of her mind?

Yeah, there was no way I was going to be able to physically get away from this little omega.

“Winchester! Let the medic get in there and we’ll work on getting the driver's door off,” called Benny. My gut said to stay but I also knew she needed someone more qualified than me to attend to her at this moment. Reluctantly, I climbed out and ran around to the outside of the car, a few guys already working on ripping the metal apart.

“She’s got the neck brace on!” called the EMT. “We’re ready for whenever she’s loose.”

Twenty minutes later we finally had the door off, a backboard slipped underneath her and she was being pulled out of the vehicle.

The EMT’s packed her up and somehow she wasn’t bleeding out. There was always the chance for internal injuries though. I wandered over to the back of the ambulance, climbing into the back much to the displeasure of the two EMT’s.

“What the hell are you doing Dean?” said Benny. I chucked my helmet at him, Benny barely catching it. “De-“

“She’s my true mate. I can’t…I need to go.” He sighed but nodded. 

“Let him ride with you. I’ll pick him up at county later. Dean?” I nodded as they started to close the doors. “Listen to the doctors and stay out of their way. That’s how you can keep her safe.”

I nodded as they shut the doors, my focus going to the woman strapped to the stretcher. She looked so broken, covered in blood and scrapes.

I squeezed her hand, a gentle twitch of her finger in my palm. 

“You’ll be okay, Omega. I promise.”

Reader’s POV

You blinked open your eyes slowly, grateful this time you were right side up. The bed was soft and warm even if your body felt achy. A buzz was thrumming through your veins as you looked down, the drugs in your system keeping you calm as you took in the sight. 

Your entire left leg was bruised. Literally every spec of skin was bruised. 

And then you saw the monstrous contraption encasing it, pins holding your thigh in place. Beeping rang through the room as your heart rate shot up, eyes fixated on your wiggling toes.

“Okay. Okay, I can still walk,” you breathed out, inhaling deeply. “Hopefully.”

A wave of exhaustion hit as the door opened, an Alpha!nurse walking inside. “Well good evening Y/N! How are we feeling?”

“Shitty.” You frowned and closed your eyes again.

“Do you remember what happened?” he asked, checking the monitors and then bending your arms. 

“Uh. I was driving on the highway and then I woke up here,” you said, nose twitching. “Something smelled pretty.”

He just hummed and checked your leg that wasn’t secure, offering you a smile. “I’m going to check a few things and then I’ll bring the doctor in.”

An hour later you were laying back in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to wrap your head around everything the doctor had said. Intensive physical therapy would be needed for months and even then your leg may never be a hundred percent again. You had a concussion and wouldn’t be able to drive a car for six months most likely. You’d need to take a leave of absence from work. Although that one might not be that bad actually considering how stressful it’d been lately.

On top of all that, apparently there was some creeper Alpha firefighter hanging out in the waiting area. 

Waiting for you.

Because your day hadn’t been unsettling enough as it was.

Before long you were fast asleep, hoping that tomorrow you’d wake up and find out this was just a nightmare.

“Good morning Y/N!” said your nurse, Alfie. You twitched your eye, not deterring his chipper mood one bit. “Feeling any better today?”

“We’re going to have problems if you’re always this bubbly when I wake up, Alfie,” you grumbled, sighing as pain shot up your leg. “If you could just do me a favor and cut off my leg, that’d be appreciated.”

“Oh, don’t be drastic, Y/N. I know the doctor wants to wean you off the pain medicine as soon as possible but it shouldn’t be that bad.”

“Did he shatter his femur yesterday? No? When he does he can talk to me about taking away my pain meds,” you said, hitting the button for morphine but nothing coming out. “Alfie. I need something.”

“The doctor gave strict orders to have you on only over the counter-”

“It fucking hurts!” you shouted, surprised at how agitated you were. Normally you were always kind and polite to strangers. But this? You were in pain and you didn’t have the patience to be a socially acceptable human being today.

Alfie looked sympathetic but his reply was cut off when a man with disheveled hair and dirty clothes came barging in the room. Strike that. The creeper Alpha firefighter that was stalking you outside was suddenly barging in the room.

“What are you doing to her?” he spat out, venom in every word. You could hear him audibly growl as he stalked over to Alfie, the poor Alpha shrinking back like he was an Omega cornered in a dark alley.

“Hey! Get out of…” you paused when you caught his scent. The heart rate monitor beeped dangerously fast, both of them turning to you. The scary Alpha firefighter suddenly made you calm, his scent giving off clear signals.

Relax Omega. You’re safe and protected.

“You can’t be in here,” said Alfie as he got his wits back. He grabbed the firefighter, shrieking when the man growled so loud it sounded like he’d gone feral. 

“Alfie’s right,” you said, pain filling your heart as you breathed deeply. You had no idea who this Alpha was but you knew his instincts were in overdrive. “You’re filthy and this is an ICU. Go home and clean yourself up. Come back this afternoon and we’ll talk then. That’s an order, Alpha.”

“Yes, omega,” he said softly, nodding once. “Are you okay?”

“Later, Alpha.” He apologized briefly to Alfie before leaving, Alfie relaxing when his scent went with him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t know how you got him to believe you like that. He was this close to snapping.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s my true mate.” Alfie raised his eyebrow and cocked his head.

“We can do a blood test. And make him take one too before we let him back in. On second thought, that’s absolutely happening.”

You raised a hand, wincing as pain pulsated through your leg. “Tell him I asked him to please take the test so he doesn’t take it out on the staff. Please.”

“Will do.” He paused as he exited the room. “I’ll talk to the doctor about your pain meds, see if we can make the steps down not so drastic.”

“Thanks Alfie.”

You were tired when you woke up after lunch and physical therapy. So much so you could barely open your eyes. You wouldn’t think you could be all that physical with a damn broken femur but after they moved and worked you to the point of shouting, you’d changed your mind quickly.

A large, calloused hand stroked your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that fell. The air smelled sweet, like pine and vanilla. “Omega. How can I help the pain?”

“You being here helps,” you murmured, his long fingers brushing away more tears. You squeezed your eyes when pain ripped through you. “They say I don’t need the morphine but I only can sleep today when I’m exhausted from the pain. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get through this.”

“With me, Omega. I’ll talk to the doctors. You were injured only a day ago. They must  have missed something if it hurts so badly.” He bent down and kissed your temple, your eyes fluttering open. “Please don’t worry. I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

You stared up into his green eyes, surprised to find him smiling at you. “Why are you so handsome?”

“Makes up for my lack of singing ability,” he chuckled. He brushed your hair behind your ear, his scent coming off in powerful waves to soothe you. “I’m sorry for scaring you earlier. I know you don’t quite know me but I was one of the responders to your accident and when I scented you…my instincts went a little crazy.”

“It’s alright,” you whispered, a flash of pain rising up again. “Can you find the doctor?”

“Yes Omega,” he murmured. “Try to rest.” He got up from the nearby seat and hummed. “I’m Dean.”

“Y/N,” you said, shutting your eyes once more.

“I’ll make it better Y/N. I promise.”

Two Weeks Later

“Hey,” said Dean when he entered your hospital room. “I heard you’re getting discharged today.”

You grumbled from bed, wearing one of his fire station hoodies. He pulled the curtains open, smiling wide as you tugged the hood up. 

“Aren’t you excited to be getting out of here?” He had a point. You were happy to be leaving, with some pain medication too. But your leg was still incredibly fucked and you couldn’t go back to your apartment. Not when it was on the third floor. Dean luckily lived in a ranch style but you hated imposing on him.

“I wish I didn’t have to move in with you.” His smile fell as you groaned. “I meant like this. Because I’m hurt and can’t be alone. I wish we could be like a normal pair of mates.”

“Hey,” he said. He sat on the edge of the bed by my good leg, lightly stroking over the bonding gland in my neck. “We are normal. We just need to practice a bit more patience than other true mates.”

“You mean how I can’t have sex for months until my leg is healed. It’s going to drive both of us crazy to wait.”

“We can bond, just without the knotting. We’re already scent bonded and as long as we don’t stay away from each other for too long-“

“You mean an hour tops? You’re stuck by my side for the next three months minimum. I might not walk correctly again. I might always-“

He put his hand over your mouth, annoyance rising in your veins. 

“I’m your Alpha, even if you don’t bear my mark yet. I never want to hear you say you think I’m stuck with you. Being with you is the only thing I could ever want. We will figure this out and I will not mate you until you are fully recovered. Am I clear, Omega?”

The use of your title from his lips sent fuzzy, calming feelings throughout your body, your head nodding without thinking. Large fingers gently stroked your cheek, a soft hum escaping him.

“Are you ready to go home with me?” 

“Okay, Alpha. You can take me home.”

“You all set?” asked Dean later that evening. You were in bed, leg propped up on some pillows. Dean had spent the day with you, helping you get discharged and set up his house so it was a bit more friendly for you to get around in. 

“As good as I can be,” you said, watching him disappear into the closet, returning in a fire station shirt and a pair of skinny black joggers. “You have work?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, no. Just getting comfy for the night. I can order us some food. I’m sure you’re starving.”

“A little,” you said, Dean sitting beside you, urging you to curl into his side. “Thank you for helping me that day. The accident.”

“It’s my job, sweetheart,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “I’m just happy you’re still here. You got lucky.”

“Hell of a way to meet your mate.” He hummed, quietly stroking your bare arm with the tips of his fingers. “I’m really glad I’m not doing this on my own.”

“You’ll never be on your own ever again, Omega. I promise.”

“I know, Alpha. My leg might never heal the same way but at least I got one good thing out of this situation.” He smiled, brushing your hair behind your ear. “This comfy ass bed.”

He rolled his eyes with a smirk, kissing the top of your head before he got up. “Alright. With that, I’m off to go be your manly Alpha and hunt down some food for us.”

“You mean order takeout?” you teased. He tossed a pillow at you, laughing lightly.

“For that I’m ordering pineapple on the pizza.” You dropped your jaw, Dean laughing a bit harder, his scent the calmest you’d ever smelled it. “I’m kidding. I’m not deranged.”

“Good cause true mates or not, that is not happening,” you said. 

“Glad we can agree on it,” he said. “What about a supreme?”

“Now we’re talking,” you said. He left the room with a nod, returning a few minutes later with a soft smile. “What?”

“Nothing. Just really glad to finally have found you. It’s…easy with you.”

You knew what he meant, patting the spot next to you. He returned to your side with a smile, pulling you to rest against his chest. His scent filled the air, a relaxed cozy feeling settling in your bones.

“Yes, yes it is Alpha,” you said, taking a deep inhale, exhaling slowly. “It absolutely is.”

________

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

A Broken Outing

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: a mishap on a fun trip to the park leads to Sam and Dean comforting their injured little sister.

“The park?” Dean sounded dubious as he glanced in the backseat to make sure you were asleep. “Why?”

Sam sighed. “We’ve been on the road for days, Dean. She needs to run around, and the motel parking lot won’t cut it. C’mon man, she’s just a kid, she needs a break, and we all need fresh air. It’s only five minutes from the motel.”

Dean was silent for a long moment. He had been a little obsessive in the search for a job lately, and tensions in the car had been high for the past day. Some fresh air really couldn’t hurt, especially if it syphoned off some of the energy that had been electrifying you and driving the boys insane.

“Are we there yet?” Your voice from the back seat startled Dean out of his thoughts.

“Almost, kid.”

“You said that forever ago,” you whined, rubbing your eyes.

“We’re really close, promise,” Sam said before Dean could respond. Dean was quick to get impatient with attitude, but Sam understood. You were just a little kid with a lot of energy, and you never slept well in the car.

Your face scrunched up in discontent, but thankfully you didn’t cry.

“Sammy and me were thinking,” Dean began reluctantly. “There’s a park really close to the motel and—“

Dean hadn’t even finished his sentence, but you suddenly sat up straight, your eyes lighting up.

“A park? Can we go, please can we go?”

“Tell you what,” Dean relented. “If you don’t ask me if we’re there yet anymore, then when we get there we’ll take you.”

You were completely silent for the rest of the ride.

…

“Ok kid,” Dean helped you unbuckle your seatbelt, as you were bouncing around too much to get it off yourself. “You’ve got one hour, have at it.”

“Thank you!” You squealed as you ran away from Dean and towards the giant slide.

Sam chuckled softly as he stepped up next to his brother. “See? This won’t be so bad.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grunted, making his way towards one of the benches.

The stubborn frown on Dean’s face struggled to remain there as he watched you. It had been far too long since he’d seen you smile like that.

“Is she tall enough for that?” Dean looked up at Sam’s question to see you clinging onto the monkey bars. You stretched one arm out to grab the next bar, but you were too short. Dean was just about to go help you down, but stopped when he saw what you were doing. You didn’t fall, instead you readjusted your grip on the bar and tried a new strategy. Instead of reaching for one bar while holding the one behind you, you swung your whole body and let go completely. It worked, and you grabbed onto the next bar, repeating that method each time.

“She’s pretty good at that,” Sam commented. Unfortunately, he spoke too soon.

You swung again, releasing the bar behind you and stretching your arms out for the next one…

Your little fingers struck the bar, but you’d tired your grip strength out by then, and you couldn’t hold on.

The little grip you had managed to get on the bar only hurt you, because it meant that when you fell, your body twisted at a strange angle. You landed hard on your arm, and the brothers were up in an instant at your strangled cry of pain.

Sam, with his monstrously long legs, got to you first, Dean right behind him.

“Hey honey. Shh, you’re ok, you’re ok.” Sam focused on soothing you while Dean examined your arm.

On simple touch to your arm had you wailing in pain, and Dean pulled away quickly while Sam held you in his lap, careful not to jostle your arm.

“I know, I know honey I’m sorry,” he breathed.

“Broken, definitely,” Dean sighed. “There’s a hospital just a few miles away, we passed it. Let’s go.”

Sam carried you to the Impala, taking extra care not to move you too much. He put you down in your seat, buckling you in carefully before jumping into the passenger’s seat.

“It’s gonna be alright, baby,” Dean turned to look at you as he spoke. “You’re gonna be just fine, just hang in there.”

Dean could tell by the way your face was scrunched up and your lips were pursed that you were trying not to cry. It wasn’t a very successful attempt, and though you weren’t making much noise, tears were streaming down your face. But Dean was so proud of you for the effort.

Tough kid, he thought as he turned back in his seat and started for the hospital.

…

“De, Sammy, look!”

The boys had hardly stepped into your hospital room before you were calling out to them.

“What?” Sam asked, coming to stand by your bed.

“I got to pick my cast color!” You waved your purple cast around, an ear-splitting grin on your face.

“Easy, tiger,” Dean chuckled. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“That’s so cool,” Sam grinned.

“Can you sign it?” You asked, tugging on Dean’s arm.

“You bet,” Dean snatched up the marker you offered him. “Alright baby, where do you want it?”

“Right here,” you pointed. When he was done you held your arm out to Sam, and after he’d signed it you stopped him. “Can you put that on it?” You pointed at Sam’s chest and he looked down, confused.

“Put what?”

“Your tattoo! Can you draw it on my cast?”

“Not a bad idea,” Sam shrugged as he leaned down and began drawing. You had no idea what the tattoo really meant—you were far too young to learn about that—and Sam thought it was cute that you wanted it just because the boys had it.

“All done,” he said after a minute, and you grinned when you looked at it.

“Now we match!”

“We sure do, honey,” Sam said.

“Hey Sammy?” You asked.

“Yeah?”

“Can we go back to the park now?”

Sam and Dean didn’t hesitate.

“No!”

[hawkeyetrained]

All Over Him

Dean Winchester x reader (established relationship)

Other Characters: Sam Winchester

Warnings: language (like 1 i think), mention of blood and cuts, stitches

Summary: The boys come back from a hunt injured. Dean gets a little jealous when Sam gets the attention first.

Word Count: 853

Sam, Dean, and I were working a small salt and burn case in a town about three hours from the bunker. “Something easy.” Dean had said when we packed up to go. I was in charge of research this time, needing more time off from hunting due to a messed-up shoulder I got on the last case. Long story short, the witch was stronger than we thought, and I was thrown through a wall, my shoulder taking the entire hit. Dean instantly benched me until I could work without wincing from pain, leading to my curled-up position on the motel bed with the TV on and some random movie playing, even though I was reading my own book, relaxing in my pajamas with one of Dean’s flannels wrapped around me and rolled up to my elbows.

So, when the front door slammed open and two mountains of men came barreling in, both bleeding but one far worse than the other, I was on my feet. “The hell happened?” I half yelled, shutting the door, and throwing my hair into a bun in order to help my boys.

“Damn ghost got the jump on Sam. Took a shard of glass to the shoulder, got hit a few times.” Dean dropped his baby brother onto his bed as I grabbed the first aid kit from my bag.

“Go take a shower so I can see your cuts, De.” I told him, already starting to work on helping Sam. I sat myself beside Sam, pulling his shirt down in order to see the cut on his shoulder from the glass. “Damn Sammy. You’re gonna need stitches.” I quickly grabbed the needle and thread before handing Sam the whisky bottle from the bedside table. “Gonna need it.” Sam took a large swig from the bottle then handed it back, allowing me to pour a little on the wound to clean it.

Sam hissed in pain and his fingers twisted into the back of Dean’s shirt I was wearing. I started the stitching and made sure to be as careful and gentle as possible, keeping the stitches straight and even like my mother had taught me years ago. Dean had come out of the bathroom around the time I had moved to cleaning the cuts on Sam’s face. The older Winchester got dressed in a pair of sleep pants and a simple grey shirt. He had a glare in his eyes that was directed to his little brother and that he didn’t have when they came in.

“Ok.” I finished cleaning the last cut and picked up my trash, being careful to keep all the little pieces of glass in the tissues. “You’re good to go. Be careful with those stitches so you don’t rip one.”

“Thanks.” Sam released his hold on my shirt before he stood and took off for the bathroom to shower. I tossed my trash away then moved over to the other bed with the oldest Winchester laying across from it, favoring one side of his body.

“Dean? Can I look you over?” I asked as I sat down with my supplies.

“Why? You and Sammy looked pretty comfy over there. Sure, you don’t wanna go check on him again?” Dean had a venomous tone to his voice.

“The hell his wrong with you?” I questioned, crossing my arms over my chest. “You never let me check you first. It’s always Sam so I’m used to going to him first. He had glass in his wounds.”

“You didn’t have to be so close to him.” My eyes widened at his words. He was jealous of his little brother. “He didn’t need to be holding you.”

I took this time to gently toss a leg over his hips and sit in his lap. “Dean, baby? Sammy is like the big brother I never had. He was hurting and needed something to ground him.” My hands slid up his chest as I spoke, drawing a sigh from his lips. “Can I check your wounds now?” Dean nodded ever so slightly.

I repeated the process with Dean, getting him to sit and take a drink of whiskey to mask some of the pain that will come from cleaning his wounds. He didn’t let me move more than a few inches in order to get supplies, keeping me in his lap as I cleaned his cuts along his face and then checked the ribs he had been holding. “So, what’s the diagnosis doc? Will I live?” Dean asked as I finally packed away my things.

A smile crossed my lips. “Eh, there’s a possibility, but that all depends.”

“On what?” Dean played along.

“On if you take me out to breakfast tomorrow morning, just you and me.” Dean pulled me down to lay with my head on his chest and his arms around my hips, the blanket resting just above our legs.

“Of course.” He placed a long kiss to my head as Sam re-entered and flicked the lights off for bed. “Love you.”

“Love you too, De.” I snuggled into his side further as sleep engulfed me.

@thetallassgirl @hallecarey1